#unless i get Very lucky or manage to bullshit my way into this job | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mugentakeda · 5 months

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its like I desperately DO want to explore Iroh maybe emotionally manipulating Zuko his very manipulatable nephew. NOT because I hate Iroh and think his actions in the show are all 100% manipulation but because I love him and how shitty he is. He's like shitty on accident and it's great.

"Whoops accidentally isolated my nephew whoopsies accidentally formed codependency with him. Oh well time to play scrabble" its so slay

THERES THIS UNFINISHED FIC I READ ON AO3 THAT GOES SUPER INTO THIS ACTUALLY i loved it so much it had such a heavy hand in changing how i view iroh (because when i was a wee middle schooler and first watched atla i too viewed uncle iroh as a do-no-wronger). at least the emotionally manipulating part. heres the link if you wanna read it :) now under the cut im about to spazz a bit on the topic of iroh and zuko and im not gonna make anyone read this word vomit unless they really want to LMFAOOO

the way i see it book 1 iroh was still in the dregs of grief over lu ten and was also still dealing w The Order which i imagine had him on thin ice for a WHILE before he managed to score the grand lotus promotion.

i personally dont think iroh was THAT distantly caring of zuko like he was portrayed to be in the fic i linked above and on the contrary i think he was having a Horrible Time during zukos recovery from his burn. but he was still distant in the way that he didnt know zuko that well yet and it was mostly the guilt on top of projecting himself and his feelings about lu ten onto zuko (the first of what will become Many) and thinking along the lines of “how could any father do this to their son, it angers me because id give anything to have lu ten back”, but then once iroh comes to love ZUKO then its “how could ozai do this to zuko”

but despite all that theres still a seven layer salad of problems, miscommunication, misunderstandings, guilt, baggage, and projecting. iroh comes to love zuko fiercely by the end of book 1 after he snaps out of his apathy and is forcibly booted from the ship, therefore a fugitive and therefore harder for The Order to access. SO, he can finally focus on getting ozais venom out of zuko. sadly, as ive said before, iroh only managed to get some of the venom out of himself not even a full decade ago. And its worse, because irohs an older adult.

thats not just a childhood and teenage years of propaganda and crimes. its a whole lifetime. And hes on time limits. sozins comet is coming. his nephew is really good at catching up with the avatar. the order tells him that sentiment and guilt cant get in the way of their goals. its a nice idea to realign zukos ideals with The Orders so iroh has an heir if he decides to take over once they hopefully topple ozai, or if he doesnt want to rule at all so zuko can take over instead- but if ozais venom reaches too deep and zuko cant be helped, The Order will take the measures necessary to remove him from the equation.

between the stress of trying to get zuko aligned with being ok with the avatar toppling his dad and sister and entire nation in less than a year with whatever methods the avatar sees fit, only like a few gallons of his own fire nation bullshit problems being flushed out a few years ago with plenty to spare so hes Really not the best at trying to get his nephew see things iroh himself doesnt even fully see, not realizing that zuko isnt the kind of kid that does well with vague proverbs and prefers it straight forward (and with enough tact to phrase things in ways that wont make him flip out when he hears things hes not ready to hear yet but at the same time without sugar coating), iroh is obviously not gonna do a perfect job.

matter of fact, id go as far to say hes not gonna even do a good job. ill give him one chewed up star and say he did a halfway decent job. a lot of people credit him for getting zuko on the right path as if he was the one that did the heavy lifting, when really he got lucky that zuko managed to pull himself out from under a fucking MOUNTAIN of deeply embedded propaganda and violent physical and emotional abuse trauma in under a few months versus iroh whos still working on it after YEARS. and his doesnt even include the abuse trauma. zuko is strong as fuck and that is his strength and nobody else deserves to be credited for that. iroh gave him pointers and a nudge in the right direction, but didnt give zuko a map and also made him take the route that involved zuko crossing the bridge with an evil goblin that would only let him pass if he solved his riddles three.

but DESPITE ALL OF THAT! despite all of that never getting properly resolved and discussed and brushed over- partly because brykes stinky asses giving irohs character the 180 and making him all ~hoity toity righteous ive never done anything wrong despite my obvious hypocrisy thats so bad it smells~ in book 3, partly because parents like iroh who have 100 million things wrong with them along with being bad at communicating barely Ever get their head right enough to sit and talk these things out with their kids, iroh and zuko still love each other so, so fucking much.

its the little things and the implications that get me the most?? iroh basically collapsing onto zuko during the siege of the north when he leaves zhaos ship and burying his face in zukos chest. zuko telling iroh that for the last time hes NOT playing the tsungi horn. iroh pestering zuko into going back to the port to find a fucking tile for a game that iroh can just buy new of and zuko just growling and stomping off. iroh pumping his fist and grinning at zuko beating up zhao during their agni kai. their banter. his nonchalance at zukos bluntness and rudeness. iroh bothering zuko into going to bed to no avail. his snarky remark at zuko sitting in his room in the dark instead of going on a walk with him. iroh sucking up their argument from the night before over ozai and going with zuko to join azula despite his suspicions while glowering at all the soldiers like a huge snarly bear protecting their cub. like UGHHHH THE VOICES THE VOICES!!!!

its just not a realistic parent child relationship if there arent an equal amount of softness to ease through the complicated tangles.

its the apology plate of cut fruit after the shouting match. you hate it because its like why wont you just say sorry to my face with your words, but then you realize you wouldnt know how to respond in words yourself, so you just eat the shitty cut fruit and say youre sorry back by doing some equally lame act of service later that day just to make the ground fully even again and all is forgiven without even having to say it outloud and both of you are thinking we’ll definitely talk it out later. later wont ever come but the love wont leave anyway so who cares (you both care).

i literally love them SO much dude i dont have enough words they have so many issues we should feed them ibuprofen by the spoonful and put them in a blender

#IM SORRY THAT THIS IS SO LONG ANON #this isnt even the 10 page thesis i told you guys about i could go on longer but i shall Refrain #HEURGHHHHH #asks

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om-gay · 1 year

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I'd like to thank capitalism for all of this

and not to forget the two people who fucked me over to make it happen

When I started writing this post, I really had no idea where it was going, it turned out to be a cathartic unload of my situation. A lot of things are vague intentionally and I could easily rock that boat by pulling up receipts, but I'd rather not go back to that situation unless I have to. Read at your own peril.

I've not really written about the not-so-recent events that have given me a great amount of time to sit on my sofa calculating how long I can stretch 125g of rice for, since I don't really have the energy and I guess I'm spiralling down a hole of taking the opinions of people who I should not be giving free rent in my head to as truth.

Without going in to full details, I basically had a job I loved and the keyword here was had until I was lucky enough to get a manager who made every effort to make that worse. It wasn't just their inability to manage that was the problem, it was the fact that they did everything they possibly could to deflect their poor decisions on to everybody else and using manipulative methods like trying to convince you to agree to the stupid decision, so when it goes south, you're the one taking the blame.

Eventually we got to a point where I wasn't playing that game, so instead of being a capable manager they just ignored me and that was fine. I could do what I needed, be left out of everything, and not really any feedback in either direction. A true coward's way out.

I was then given another manager, who I had worked with before, had a good opinion of them and really did not expect the bullshit they'd pull on me a few months later.

I had been aware for sometime that the first manager wanted to push me out of the door, and it isn't the first time they had done that either. So when I was selected for a promotion I knew exactly what it was, a setup.

Because these two people weren't even remotely smart enough to setup what I was being asked to do, I knew once I had put everything in to a position that they could push me out and reap the rewards.

It is also worth mentioning that this new manager gave absolutely zero support or feedback either and when they pulled their hilariously poor constructive dismissal bullshit last year it was something I had already expected.

It started off with them interfering with my teams, telling them to do the opposite of my instructions which in the end started to burn me out from having to invest a lot of time cleaning up their mess. Then started the ambush meetings, where I'd be pulled in to a meeting with my team members giving me negative feedback (with this manager in the middle of this) that I was never aware of. Instead of letting them having the discussion with me directly, this person made them hold this for their ambush event.

Yet another mess to clear up for me, and I did very well considering.

This manager then decided to drop something almost too stupid I'm surprised the company humoured it, they pulled me in to a Friday afternoon no notice meeting and I was told at this point my job had already been given to the person I had just hired.

They had basically just sanctioned me without any kind of process or even any kind of feedback prior to this dumping of negative feedback without any follow up. Cool.

To say I was furious, was an understatement. While I did see some bullshit coming at me, I didn't see the level of absolute stupidity it could be in. I put down that little attempt quite swiftly, because it wasn't hard, its the kind of easy case an employment lawyer loves - receipts, the company taking the piss, and in front of a tribunal a hands down employer loses.

Even though it was a technical win, it wasn't, they had broken the trust between me and the company and at that point I had only one way to go - out of the door.

A month later I get an email trying to restart this action, but again, it was all nonsense. Trying to beat me with things I had come to them to raise the flag with solutions they refused without any reason, creating impossible targets, decisions they had changed at the last second after months of my work to make sure we were all on board, made up quotes from colleagues, and trying to apply rules they never followed or even had at minimum mentioned exists (this is a startup so it lacks a lot of processes and rules).

So I had to investigate each point, pull the receipts, and formulate a response. It took me a month to actually do that and it was a 10 page email after I cut responses to individual minor points. They were literally the most unserious clowns I had ever worked with and they really thought I was that stupid.

I had two options after that, sue the shit out of them, or take a rupture conventionelle. Because I really don't want to have to spend the next decade dealing with these clowns (if they manage to last that long) I went for the latter. The contract was done at the end of October and I was unexpectedly unemployed having to use the pay out to try and pay out big expenses as well as my rent before I joined the chômage. By the time I received my full payment from the chômage the payout was gone, mostly on rent.

Speaking of rent, what was before 1/3 of my salary is now 80% of my reduced income and covering the bills is a game of how late I can pay things or can I live on half a meal a day.

All of this because two clowns who have no self awareness of competence to behave like adults. They stole my job from me and took no serious thought of the negative effects their actions have to a person's life, especially in the middle of an economic crisis.

I should be fucking livid about this, but actually, I'm not. Sure my life is really fucking bad right now, my mental state is hit hard because unlike them I have spent months asking myself if I am capable of doing X job as well as being in a really dark place if I'm good enough. I have also met people at some of the courses I've been doing who are also in the same situation, but in their case they tend to be too close to retirement to get a bite and too far from retirement to be able to get out of it.

Back on the point - why I'm not angry - I, of course, get to hear what is happening at the old place and it really is as you'd expect when your capable employees flood out the door, poorly run, going from one disaster to another, and just a total shit show that I'm truly happy that I'm not in the middle of any more.

I might be taking the brunt of Macron's vicious changes to the support system we all pay for to get when we need it but at least I'm not an idiot who has to pay a consultant to do their job.

#capitalism #funemployment #job seeking sux #awful managers #terrible employers #ramblings #need to touch that grass

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quidfree · 3 years

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can you Please write the scene with bakugou's piercing SGDHEFEH the concept is too funny to me !!!

anon you’re lucky 報復性熬夜 is a concept i am firmly attached to so here i am at 1 am rattling this off instead of getting my beauty sleep. please excuse the standard of writing as a result

by the second day, katsuki is seriously considering agreeing to todoroki’s earlier and ambiguously sincere proposal that they play i spy.

he doesn’t know what it is about this particular job that’s so unbearable. no, scratch that- of course he knows what’s unbearable; it’s sat right next to him on a too-small chair in their too-small room staring impassively out of a too-small window. but he’s been thrown into so much shit with icyhot you’d think he’d developed some kind of immunity by now, the way vaccines microdose you on viruses so you can resist the real thing. call katsuki an antivaxxer, he guesses, because he has overdosed on todoroki ever since he met the asshole and he’s still not ready for how far up the wall he’s driving him when they’re stuck together for two straight days without a breather or any contact with the outside world.

cards on the table: stake-outs aren’t his thing. he does them just fine, fuck you very much, but he doesn’t like ‘em. why would he? they’re some ungodly blend of extremely boring and extremely tense, where nothing happens right up until way too long into it and then everything goes to shit unprompted. it’s rare he ever gets called in on jobs like this- people tend to assume he lacks the temperament for it, for one, and for another he’s too useful to lock away for days on end. it’s only because their suspected target is so insanely volatile and dangerous that it’s the two of them waiting for her to show her ugly face- no one else is even allowed in the perimeter. which is fucking fine, but he just wishes the cops would get their shit together for once and actually have the proof ready by the time they call the pros in so he doesn’t have to wait before he goes in guns blazing. instead they talked some bullshit about how critical of a stage this was and blah blah fifteen years of (obviously mediocre) work had gone into setting this trap, etc etc. the point is that it’s led to katsuki stuck in the world’s most disgusting little apartment, staring out of a splintered window for two-going-on-three days with no one but the world’s most annoying prodigy to keep him company. the place is such a dump they’re sleeping on mats in sleeping bags. it’s like fucking UA summer camp, and at this point he’d take the kidnapping over the waiting.

day one wasn’t so bad, right up until he realized there would be a day two. day two is bad from start to finish. they’re supposed to take turns on watch but there’s fuck all else to do except sit on their phones, and katsuki can only quote tweet so much dumb shit before he gets bored. he can’t talk to anyone outside because of confidentiality bullshit, and there’s no point checking work shit when he can’t do anything from where they are. so it’s either silently watching the warehouse or talking to todoroki, and todoroki is a fucking terrible conversationalist.

the thing with icyhot is this: katsuki doesn’t hate him, okay. like, he hates him, but also not really. they’re, at a push, maybe, sort of, friends. verging on close ones. not that he’d say so, but after the amount of dramatic self-sacrifices and final stands against a joint enemy they’ve endured he can’t really muster the energy to argue otherwise. todoroki’s tolerable, sort of maybe. usually katsuki borderline likes working with him, because if nothing else he’s good at what he does, and they know each other too well to be anything but in sync in the field. if they were doing almost anything else he’d be relieved at the choice of pairing.

they are not, however, doing anything else, and todoroki still fucking sucks at talking like a normal person. when he’d woken katsuki up for his shift of night-watch he’d loomed over him ominously like a fucking ghoul and said, voice belying no humor: “do you think plants can feel pain?”

there’s fucking nothing to talk about. anything interesting is essentially vetoed because it’d inevitably distract them from the whole intent observation thing, and katsuki hates small talk on a normal day but especially when todoroki’s doing his ‘alien attempting earth dialect’ bit and asking him about weather or the tokyo transportation system or whatever. so they just sit in semi-silence and occasionally go on very stupid tangents katsuki is glad no one can witness and remain overall bored out of their fucking skulls.

by day three they’ve already exhausted i spy and also the alphabet game and hangman, and katsuki draws the line at tic-tac-toe. todoroki looks implacable as always but his eye has started twitching a little. katsuki tries to think of literally anything that could plausibly take up their time and not take their eyes off the window, comes up short. twister is not a good idea even ignoring their lack of a board. shop talk is so very tempting, but he’s not losing this villain and wasting two days’ suffering because they get carried away on some long-winded discussion, so that’s not an option either.

“how’s your ear?” todoroki says, and at first katsuki thinks he’s really fucking lost it if he’s started asking after the wellbeing of his individual body parts, but then he remembers the last time they saw each other katsuki was throwing himself into the path of some jackass with a trumpeting quirk who nearly blew out his eardrum, so he guesses half ‘n half’s not entirely insane yet. he shrugs, shifts in his chair.

“fine. couldn’t hear shit from it for like three straight days, though. and my balance was fucked.”

“it hasn’t scarred at all.”

“yeah. lame place for a scar,” katsuki says, flexing his fingers absently. they’re all of them more roughed up than they were at UA, but talent and good healers have kept him mostly intact, give or take a few big nasties like the time he got gutted in first year or his near loss of an eye around graduation. privately he suspects genetics have dealt him a good hand, what with his gene donor’s perfect skin, but then todoroki doesn’t have that excuse and he’s not scarred anywhere ugly except the obvious, though katsuki could point blind to most of the nasties he’s accumulated under his suit.

not that he thinks about what’s under todoroki’s suit. god, he needs to get out of here.

“i don’t know,” todoroki is saying now, thoughtful. “a lot of people have ear-scars, no? from piercings.”

“that’s different,” katsuki says, immediately contrarian, even as he thinks about it. by the warehouse a truck stalls, but then moves on, lessening his momentary excitement. “most people don’t let that shit heal. unless you’re a moron there’s no point getting a hole jabbed through your ear if you’re not sure you want it.”

“would you?” todoroki asks, mildly curious, and taps his ear where katsuki can see him in the window’s reflection. “get a piercing, i mean.”

“what’s it to you?”

todoroki rolls his eyes at him like he’s being pointlessly difficult, which he maybe is a little. “i don’t know. i think it would suit you.”

“yeah?” katsuki sniffs, mollified and trying not to show it. it’s always a mistake to let icyhot know when his obvious ploys are working. “been thinking about it?”

“i can hardly sleep at night for thinking about it,” todoroki deadpans, which makes katsuki scowl and stomp down on the extremely unwarranted flush crawling up his neck in response.

“fuck off. i guess i’d do like one or two.”

“really? you always say no to tattoos.”

“that’s different. i don’t trust some asshole to draw a fucking infinity sign on my knee or whatever. sticking a hole through an ear is hard to fuck up, and you barely register it after. if you get a shitty tattoo you have to think about it all the time.”

“if it’s easy then why don’t you have any?” todoroki asks, but he sounds genuinely curious more than like he’s trying to catch him out, so katsuki thinks about it honestly.

“don’t have the time. ‘s not like i can really afford to pencil in an afternoon to the nearest parlor or whatever just for that.”

“i read you can pierce your ears with a needle.”

“i guess i haven’t fucking thought about it that much, then,” katsuki grumbles, forever irked by todoroki’s smart mouth. problem solver his ass. the guy goes around making problems for everyone.

they sit in silence for a beat, watching the breeze rattle the wooden planks barricading a window opposite them, and then he thinks needle, and does some very quick mental arithmetics to reach the conclusion that todoroki is probably also landing on, judging by the way he blinks when katsuki briefly glances his way.

he thinks about the job, and how close he’d come to throttling todoroki during i spy, and the great dawning nothingness ahead of them for fuck knows how long still. at the very worst, they have to start moving with a needle in his ear.

“pass me your medikit.”

todoroki does, but when katsuki unzips the pack he shifts. “it’d be easier if i did it.”

“it’s not rocket science,” katsuki mutters, considering the needle critically before glancing back out of the window. “'s not like i give a shit about precise location.”

“i’m just saying i wouldn’t have to go in blind. and you can keep watch while i do it.”

“or you can keep watch while i do. same shit.”

todoroki only shakes his head, because unlike some people who shall not be named he is not so incredibly psychosexually attached to offering help where it isn’t wanted. “fine.”

katsuki eyes the window, squints at his ear. tissue’s the best bet- he thinks he could probably manage cartilage fine, but on the off chance they have to drop everything and run he doesn’t want to accidentally snap a bone and start the fight inconvenienced. lobe it is.

“wait,” todoroki says, just when he’s focused, and then reaches over without removing his gaze from the window to press two fingers to the needle, tip going blisteringly red-hot before he releases it. cauterised. their kit’s sterilised anyway, but katsuki grunts his begrudging thanks, repositions himself.

“wait,” todoroki says again, and this time katsuki can’t help but turn to glare at him where he’s still watchfully staring outside.

“fucking what, icyhot?”

“two seconds,” todoroki promises, gaze flickering his way for half a second with something like self-effacing amusement before he turns his eyes dutifully away and reaches his other arm around to pinch his ear, which flares cold so quickly katsuki hisses even as his cheeks heat. fucking weirdo.

“could’ve just said,” he mutters, ignoring his not at all jumpy pulse to refocus on the task at hand as todoroki does that obnoxious lip-twitch thing that means he’s smiling internally.

physics dictates that he keep his wrist at an angle if he wants the needle to come out right, so he does, braces and jabs. it goes so easy he almost doubts his own success, not even the slightest twinge of pain ensuing. he twists for good measure, removes the needle, watches tiny beads of blood emerge from the piercing.

well, that was anticlimactic, katsuki thinks, retrieving an anti-bacterial wipe for the needle, and then pauses, staring at the window.

“motherfucker.”

“what?”

“what the fuck am i supposed to put through this?”

todoroki’s mismatched eyes go gratifyingly wide in the window, and for one spectacularly braindead moment two of the world’s most outstanding pro-heroes stare at one another in a shitty broken window with equal amounts of retroactive dismay.

“um,” todoroki says, or as close to ‘um’ as todoroki will ever say. katsuki wishes dearly he was still of an age where he could throw him through a wall. then his eyes focus elsewhere, sharpening with what could pass as professional focus but is mostly naked relief. “um.”

um in-fucking-deed. by the warehouse, a door has just opened a sliver.

“you owe me a fucking earring,” katsuki declares, but so fast it lacks any aggression, already halfway out the window by the time he finishes speaking, atrophied limbs reviving with an ecstatic chemical burn as fresh air hits their faces.

god. if he ever gets stuck on stake-out duty again he’s sleeping by himself under a parked car or some shit.

they make disgustingly quick work of the fight, in the end, days of pent-up frustration and skull-numbing boredom leaving them so bursting with power that it’s almost embarrassing for the villain, but when the first kow-towing police officer reaches them full of praise and suggestion that they handle another job he has queued up they chorus a ‘no’ so violent the guy actually jumps.

todoroki’s not so bad, katsuki thinks fondly, watching his face slide into frigid blankness with absolutely no idea of how shitless he’s scaring the officers around them. it’s almost enough to make him forget to kick his ass for the enormously shitty banter he’d had to endure vis-a-vis his still-bleeding ear throughout the entire tragically short fight.

almost. not quite. who even knew there was a ‘gay ear’?

#qui parle #qui ecrit #anon #todobaku #bnha #tdbk

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walkerwords · 4 years

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“In Her Sights” F!Reader & Negan (Daryl x Reader Background)

Summary: You are a former special ops member. When Negan killed Glenn and Abraham you were on a run for weapons. When you learned of what happened, you were pissed, especially since Negan now had your husband, Daryl. When Negan comes for week one pick up, you are waiting for him, unseen and with demands.

Word Count: 2250

Warnings: cursing

Song I Wrote To: “Bloodlust” by The Phantoms

Note: some things are different, just go with it! :) Requests are welcome, go ahead and send prompts for everything TWD.

-------

The rumble of the trucks alerted the scouts on the edge of the perimeter.

Tobin immediately called in the arrival of the Saviors. You wasted no time in getting into position. Since you had arrived back in Alexandria and learned about Abraham and Glenn, the rage that you normally kept at bay boiled in your chest. Then Rick had told you about Daryl. You had destroyed half of your bedroom when hearing of that particular news.

The guilt was heavy in your heart. You were their wild card, the one that always kept them safe. You were the one who took out the snipers at Grady and even most of the Termites that threatened them when Carol attacked Terminus. It was your job to be invisible. You and Abraham were the two veterans of the group and while he took charge with war tactics, it was you, the former special-ops member, to take out their enemies unseen and show their true strength.

However, the night that Maggie was sick and needed to get to Hilltop, You were out on a run to a nearby Air Force base with Jesus. You needed a few extra trinkets to work on your weapons and incendiary devices. When you had returned home to the news, you swore you wouldn’t leave them undefended again.

You made your way to the vantage point in the trees. You and Sasha had managed to camouflage it perfectly with the help of Eugene and Carl. It was invisible unless you knew what you were looking for and it gave you the perfect view of the front gate and the hostiles that approached Alexandria. You readied your rifle, adjusting the silencer on it as well as the laser sight. Through your scope, you could see both sides of the wall. Rick and Aaron were waiting for your orders. Aaron on the ground and Rick hidden on the watch post. Two other weapons were at your side on the platform as well as three soaked sheets of Walker blood to detract the Dead from circling your hiding spot.

You trained your weapon on the approaching vehicles, counting the Saviors and gaining a perspective on their weaponry. While they may have more ammo, they didn’t know about you, and Rick was careful to keep it that way for as long as possible. The Saviors exited their trucks and readied their weapons as the boss finally made an appearance. You sneered as Negan strutted towards the gate. His leather jacket hugging his broad chest and his infamous baseball bat hitched onto his shoulder as if he was putting on a show.

“Little pig! Little pig! Let me in!” He bellowed and you switched on your laser sight. You aimed it right at Negan’s heart. Immediately, the man to his right pointed it out. The man with the pornstache, Rick called him Simon, pointed to his boss, taking a step back. Negan glanced down and anger filled his face. “What the shit!” he yelled.

“Aaron,” you said into your walkie and the gate slowly slid open. The Saviors all turned their weapons on Aaron who ignored them and walked towards Negan. He held out the walkie to the leader without saying a word. Negan stared at him, unmoving, so you raised the laser to right between his eyes. Simon grabbed the walkie and offered it to his boss, a warning look in his eyes. Negan snatched the radio and Aaron walked back inside the walls, shutting the large gate behind him. Aaron nodded to you and you then lowered your sight back onto the man’s sternum.

“What the fuck is this, Rick?” Negan said into the walkie.

“This isn’t Rick, asshole,” you said calmly into the radio. Negan looked around, trying to guess where the shooter was, but he would never find you. Even if he discerned where you were held up, you had activated traps around the tree. The Saviors would be blown sky high before they even got the chance to reach you.

“Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” Negan asked, slipping back into his cocky performance.

“That’s not your concern,” you said, your teeth grinding together. “You know, we haven’t met, but I like to think we have something in common, Negan.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, gripping his bat harder.

“The whole ‘we are Negan’ bullshit. That’s how I work too. I’m everywhere you sick son of a bitch. The only reason you are still alive is because when you slaughtered my friends, I was out on a weapons run. If I had been in that RV, your first roadblock would be a pile of charred bones right now.”

“You’re real brave to threaten me, sweetheart,” he growled. “Why don’t you come on out and we can discuss this like grown-ups?”

“I prefer to keep my distance,” you responded.

“Sounds a bit cowardly to me,” Negan spat back.

“At least I didn’t kill an unarmed soldier and the husband of a pregnant woman who kneeled at your feet as she struggled to keep her unborn child alive,” you returned with as much venom as you could muster, feeling both Glenn and Abraham’s loss in your chest. Negan had gone quiet, looking at Simon.

“She was pregnant?” Negan finally asked.

“No, she just had a bad case of food poisoning. God if you were even still remotely human you would have asked what was wrong with her. Not that any of that matters now. Maggie is dead along with her son.” Negan hung his head slightly as he heard the news. You, of course, knew that Maggie was fine. The widow was now at Hilltop with Sasha and Enid as she finished her pregnancy. However, Negan didn’t need to know that. “Congratulations, asshole, you killed a pregnant woman.”

“What the hell do you want?” Negan fired back. “What game are you playing?”

“This isn’t a game, Negan, this is just how things are going to be from now on. I have some demands and you’re going to meet them or you die.”

“Again with the threats, darlin’,” he said, still searching the trees. It was silent for a moment. “Did you disappear on me?” You raised the laser sight to his throat.

“I know you have Daryl,” you said, your tone deadly calm.

“I do,” Negan said smugly. “What interest is he to you?” You watched as the man on his left, Dwight, you figured, glance back at one of the trucks. Even at this distance, you could see the unmistakable mop of hair of your husband.

“You’re going to release him,” you told him, “You are going to let him go and you will return both his vest and his crossbow or I start shooting.” Negan glanced around, nearly laughing amongst his Saviors as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Here’s a question for you mystery lady,” he said, taking a few steps towards the main gate. “Who is he to you and why shouldn’t I just put a bullet in his brain right now?” You flexed your hands around your weapons, trying to stay calm. Rick had warned you that Negan would try to get under your skin and that you needed to be careful. You were trained to control your emotions, but even you had to admit that this man knew how to get under people’s skin. It made you want to shoot him even more.

“If you even try to pull a gun on my husband, I will fill your body with so many holes that even your Walker body won’t be able to get up and walk again,” you threatened evenly. Negan nearly dropped the walkie at your words.

“Woah! Husband! Did you hear that, D? Your man Daryl has a goddamn woman to warm his bed!” Negan said to Dwight who was looking like a fidgeting weasel. “Well, shit, sweetheart, I didn’t know our Daryl was such a lucky man. Tell me, what it is that you find so fucking special about him? Cause if I’m being honest, he’s not much to look at, at least not since we’ve had him.” Negan sent a smile in your general direction, clearly enjoying all of this very much. However, you were tired of playing this back and forth shit.

“You have ten seconds to do what I asked or my rifle finds its first target,” you said.

“I have a better idea,” Negan said, “why don’t you take that rifle and shove it up your ass?”

“Fine,” you said and then quickly retrained your weapon, “Ten,” you counted and fired, shooting a Savior right between the eyes. The body dropped quickly. “Nine,” you shot another man. “Eight,” a woman to Negan’s left went down in a spray of blood. “Seven,” the man next to Dwight dropped.

“Stop!” Negan bellowed and your finger stalled on the trigger. Simon stared around in horror at the scene, seeing his four dead comrades creating pools of blood across the asphalt.

“Daryl. Now,” you repeated.

“Shit!” Negan cursed and then looked at Dwight. “Get him,” he ordered. Dwight wasted no time in running to the truck Daryl was being held in. You watched every move as Daryl stumbled out of the truck and besides a few bruises and cuts, he seemed to be in one piece. You would make sure Rosita took a look at the gunshot wound that must have still been bothering him. Dwight shoved Daryl towards the gate, past Negan who glared at him.

“And the vest,” you said into the walkie. Dwight shrugged out of the leather vest and shoved it into Daryl’s hands. Daryl approached Dwight, getting into his face. Leveling a stare that made the other man swallow hard. “I believe he wants his weapon,” you said, easily reading the body language of your husband. Dwight just stared back, being stubborn. Daryl took a few steps back and then raised his right hand hooking his fingers towards you. You adjusted your aim and shot at Dwight’s feet, causing him to jump a foot or so back.

“Dammit Dwight!” Negan yelled and Dwight grabbed the bow from the back of his truck and tossed it to Daryl who caught it easily. You then moved the laser sight towards Aaron and then back to Daryl and Aaron opened the gate. Daryl wasted no time in turning and walking back into his home, not even bothering to glance back at his captors.

“Great,” you said, “now, kindly fuck off because I still have six more bullets with Savior names on them.” Negan nearly crushed the radio in his hands.

“I’m going to kill you,” Negan promised.

“That’s funny,” you laughed, “my friend said the same thing to you.” You then turned to see Rick stand up and make himself known. Negan turned to the leader of Alexandria with a sneer. Rick stood on top of the gate like a king as he stared at the Saviors below. His hand was resting on his gun. Negan noticed that immediately. Rick smiled. “A friend recently made a visit to the Sanctuary while you were on the road,” you explained. “Don’t worry, Fat Joey is still alive, he’s just missin’ a few fingers.” Jesus had retrieved the colt only an hour before the convoy had arrived. It was just icing on the cake for your plan.

“Why don’t you just pull the trigger?” Negan said into the radio, but his eyes remained on Grimes.

“All in good time, Negan,” you said, recentering your crosshairs on him. “I want you to live for a little bit longer knowing that any point I can blow your brains out with a twitch of my finger. It makes me sleep better at night. So, you’re going to get back in your cars and leave Alexandria and if you come back, I will not only kill you, but everyone with you and then take them all back and let them loose on the Sanctuary and have your people fend for themselves. Do you understand?”

“We had a deal, dick!” Negan called up to Grimes, swinging Lucille around in his hand.

“She doesn’t make deals, Negan!” Rick called back. “Now go before I do kill you.” You didn’t wait for another witty comeback as you took aim and fired on another Savior.

“Six,” you said. Negan threw the walkie down on the ground and strutted back to his truck. You watched them leave, their vehicles disappearing down the road. You then turned the channel on your radio and called to Tobin and Carl who were on standby at the end of the drive. “You can release them now.”

————

A mile or so down, Tobin and Carl released two Walkers that stumbled out into the road.

As Negan’s convoy came across them, he slammed on the breaks. You and Rick had taken your time to perfect the art project. Both Walkers were male, dressed in biker boots, jeans, and leather jackets that they had found in the back of the closet of an empty house in Alexandria. Rick then had found two baseball bats and tied them to the Walkers’ hands. Letting them loose for Negan to see was Carl’s idea and you had loved it immediately.

Negan got out of the car much to Simon’s disapproval. He wasted no time in swinging Lucille and killing both of the Negan-Walkers. He smashed their heads until there was nothing left but red. He turned his face back towards Alexandria, roughly wiping the blood from his face. “I’m going to kill that bitch.”

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stitch-n-time · 3 years

Note

Can you explain how the US housing laws work? You have me interested

Short answer: they don’t.

Longer answer (because I have to work tonight and truly don’t have like 8 hours to write the thesis, because you bet your ass I could):

There is actually an internal structure that the low income housing system has been built around that makes it nearly impossible to navigate, difficult to get into, and specifically works against the people that it was supposedly built to help.

I’m actually not quite sure where to start with this, so it’s going to be all over the place and bouncing back and forth, but that’s also kind of on brand for the low income housing system.

The system as we know it is very much a post WWII thing, so the info here will be from after that point. A lot of this will be in kind of broad, sweeping terms. But since the US is like 60 different states in a trenchcoat trying to sneak into an R-rated movie, very little of it actually covers the entirety of the country. There are also state and city levels of bullshit that people have to wade through. Most people don’t make it.

I’m going to use my own experiences as an example. But know that my experiences are NOT typical. When I started down this rabbit hole, I was a 30-ish year old white woman, a part time student, presented as a professional female on a daily basis, had a fairly stable income from a job I had held for years, and a vehicle (though making payments). All of this put together meant I had it pretty easy.

Some of that caused problems, though. The vehicle was a problem. It was a newer model gently used vehicle. According to the dealership, the previous owner had traded it in because it was a manual transmission and they wanted an automatic. When I bought it, it had less than 60k miles on it and was in excellent condition. In the eyes of the people who approve the paperwork and rubber stamp applicants for low income housing, I could get rid of that vehicle, and the moneys spent on the payments and insurance could go toward housing. Which would be reasonable, except most of the US doesn’t have public transportation at all. What public transport does exist is sketchy, rarely runs on schedule, and often does not go into residential areas. I COULD have gotten rid of the car, but that would have meant a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4 hours on a bus to get to class and 5 hours on the return trip twice a week, then a 2 mile hike home OR a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4.5 hours on a bus, another 2 mile hike to get to work, and the same on the return. At that point, I would have been spending more time on the bus than either at work or school, and might as well just live on the damned thing, since all I would have time to do at home is shower and MAYBE eat a sandwich?

But that’s also typical. Part of the laws as they are written specifically state that a person or household can not own physical properties that are over a certain value, because those properties could be sold in order to elevate the person/family’s lifestyle. That also makes household absolutely reliant on public transportation, which is simply not available in many poor areas.

Which goes into redlining, and systemic racism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

The fact that I was a student also worked against me. If a person can afford to go to school, they can afford housing. So why would you want/need help from the government? I’m just thankful that I was a part time student when the need for low income housing arose… If you’re a full time student, you are automatically denied on any application for low income housing. There are different legal designations for “low income housing” and “student housing”. They can not exist in the same housing complex for legal reasons. So if I had been taking one more class that semester, I would have been denied, and would have been homeless.

That in itself doesn’t sound terrible. And there’s reasons for the legal differences. But think about it… What if I had been in the last semester of school and something had happened? What about the people who are both enrolled in school and are working, trying to make ends meet, trying to be able to do something better, and either their lease is up or they get evicted or… I don’t know… their house burns down or a tornado hits or suddenly medical bills? If a person fills out that paperwork while still a student, even if they say “I’m graduating next month and want to move in the month after that” they still count as a full time student and would get denied. Which means leaving school and being spit out into the post graduate world probably without a job, while being denied help with keeping a roof over their head, when it’s absolutely necessary to have a physical address while searching for a job.

Which goes into the anti-homeless way of thinking, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

I’m going to lump the “fairly stable income from a job I had held for years” and “presented as a professional female on a daily basis” into one, because they are directly related. I had worked my way through a trade school, and had been working in the medical field for nearly 4 years. The practice was open 4 days a week. I was there 2 days, the male counterpoint was there the other 2 days. If a client preferred one of us over the other, either they scheduled appropriately, or the doctor asked us to come in for that client’s appointment time. Because a large portion of the clientele were middle aged and older, as well as conservative, the dress code reflected accordingly. Since I actually REALLY liked the job, and the doctor and his family were pretty awesome people, I dressed and styled accordingly, on a daily basis. But because the number of hours on the clock varied with the number of clients scheduled for therapy appointments, there were times when those paychecks got mighty thin. There were absolutely trends of busy seasons and light seasons. Sometimes during that light season there were days when I would go to work for a couple of hours, go home until about 3PM, then go back for 2 or 3 hours. It was hard to pin that down.

Having to explain that I could not pinpoint an amount of annual income with any accuracy while filling out the application worked against me. And just about anybody who works in retail, food service, etc. - all the jobs that people with low incomes tend to have – will tell you that they suffer the same thing. Go into work, put in a couple of hours, and have the manager come tell you to go home because it’s not busy enough to justify having people on the clock. But without having an accurate estimation of annual income (that could be verified by their calling your employer) means that the application is denied. The general consensus is that if you can’t pinpoint your annual income, then you’re lieing on the application, which means you’re untrustworthy, and therefore don’t deserve to get the help you need to keep a roof over your head.

That conservative professional look helped me here, though. I went into the office dressed well, in khakis and a nice blouse, to fill out the application and speak to the people. While I was there, another lady came in to fill out an application. This is somebody who I happened to know personally. She was also a professional, who was arguably in a slightly better place than I was because her income did not fluctuate (though it was low, as she was recovering from a divorce and most of the family income had come from her ex husband), but she was “dressed down” in shorts and a t shirt. We made the same arguments. I ended up in an apartment, and she did not.

Honestly, I was actually lucky to get into an apartment. A lot of people don’t realize it, but even with things being classified as low income housing, it takes a LOT of money to get into places. Just like every other rental in the US, before you move in, you have to pay the first month’s rent. And a deposit. And if you have pets, another deposit. And the cost of having the electricity and water turned on. And depending on the specific details of the contract you have to sign, possibly trash pickup. And if you want internet, either you pay for that and get a modem through the ISP, or you pay extra on signing the lease. And if you want to do your laundry in your home (if there’s even a hookup), there’s an extra rental fee for a washer and dryer, unless you bring your own.

I got lucky. When I applied and was approved, this particular housing development was running a “special” - if you sign a lease, you get one month rent free to use within 12 months of signing. I had to use it immediately. With all the extra fees and everything else, I could either pay for the rent OR the deposit, but not both – so I paid the deposit and laughingly told them I’d like to use that free month on the first month, immediately, right now, please and thank you, now where’s my key? They almost turned me away at that point.

I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for my professional clothing and the fact that I could point to a couple of scabs on my face, that I would have been denied at that point. (The scabs were from a dog. I had been renting a room from a “friend” who is no longer a friend. Her dog bit my face, and instead of punishing the dog, she decided I needed to move out that weekend. Note: this is literally the ONLY time I’ve had a dog bite me, despite having been around them most of my life, and this particular dog had snapped at multiple people before.)

Which goes into classism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now the thing that has been on my last nerve for a few years now is a good one. The laws state that if your household changes in any way, you have to fill out the application again. Doesn’t matter if you literally got approved the day before: you fill it out again. Because there have been household changes. It doesn’t sound terrible at all, but I know somebody who got evicted from low income housing and ended up homeless because his wife left. Suddenly the household size was smaller, but had the same income, and it was over the limit for the household size. Sorry not sorry you have to go. I know somebody who was evicted for “falsified paperwork” because she had a baby and was in the hospital for 2 weeks, so didn’t get the paperwork in on time. They ended up in a homeless shelter (in this city, homeless shelters are more expensive than a lot of low income housing). Now she’s in debt that she’ll probably never get out of, due to that.

What’s more is that the eligibility requirements to be able to pass those income thresholds change constantly. Out of curiosity, I tracked the changes over the course of a year. Just checking on the first of the month. In a single year, the income requirements changed 10 times. It’s not easy to keep track of, and there’s not much reason to track it unless it’s literally part of your job, in order to keep in compliance with the laws.

My own personal gripe is much less severe than that. I can’t get married. Technically, my fiance can’t live with me. On paper, he lives with his parents, miles away. But he spends most of his time in my apartment, which is under my name only, because I’m disabled (but ineligible for disability) and need his help. We’ve been together for a decade. We’ve been engaged for over 5 years. But if we get married, then the household changes, and we have to fill out the paperwork and get approved again. The thing is: if we put together our incomes into one “household” income, we would never be eligible for low income housing. Which means we would have to move out.

Moving out comes with it’s own difficulties. Because of the paperwork you have to sign to lease low income housing – and depending on where you are because 60 states in a trenchcoat – there are hoops to jump through. The lease in this particular development, you get a choice. If you break the lease you either a) pay the full amount of rent on the apartment through the end of the lease term or b) pay two months’ rent on the apartment after termination of the lease. So not only would we have to find other housing that we could afford (with all of the move in fees, deposits, transfer of service fees for utilities, bla bla bla), we would also have to pay 2 months’ rent on top of everything else. Which means either borrowing literally thousands of dollars from an individual – banks won’t do loans for this – or having to decide which bills get paid and which don’t while surviving off of ramen noodles for months at a time. Which… uh… would not work well with the man-thing’s diabetes.

Which all goes into respectability politics, and deciding whether or not poor people deserve to have stability and emotional fulfillment, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now this may sound like a whole lot of personal whining. And it kind of is. But I can’t speak for anybody else. This is my personal interactions with these people and with the laws behind their behavior. But it’s the laws themselves that are written to be exclusive of the people that need help the most.

Homeless people can not apply, because they don’t have a current address.

Unemployed people can not apply, because they don’t have an income.

Full time students can not apply, because of the legal definitions of the different types of housing.

People with “disposable” property (such as cars) are often denied because they could turn those assets into monies.

People who rely on that “disposable” property for work are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People of color who have been relegated to specific neighborhoods where public transportation is not available due to the redlining of the last century are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People who do not have thousands of dollars readily available are denied because they can not pay both the deposit and rent.

People who face employment discrimination (even though it’s illegal) are denied because they can not provide proof of steady income.

People who have bounced from employer to employer are often denied for the same reason.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to change anything about their household.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to get out of it if their situation improves.

All of it is written into the laws surrounding the housing itself.

So…. Yeah. It doesn’t work. But if you want me to actually get into the nitty gritty, I can start actually researching. But somebody’s gotta pay me for it.

#long post is long #hey nonny nonny #what was that?

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inactive-seathesilverlinings · 3 years

Text

Let Me Help

Bonnie is back my friends and ready to keep making her brothers lives interesting! 🥳

@scarlett3drag0n @louthestarspeaker @willow-salix I know you guys like her 😁

When Bonnie walked into the main living area of the villa she had expected darkness but instead at the opposite side of the room, suspiciously in the location of Dad’s desk there was the faint blue glow of a holoscreen. This wouldn’t have been strange normally, she knew Scott often worked late, but no one was anywhere to be seen and the lights were usually on since they worked on a sensor through the night. As she stepped into the room the sensors did their job and the room was illuminated in a soft, warm, glow. That was when she saw it.

Scott was face down on the desk, asleep and dead to the world, a cup of what was probably now cold coffee sitting beside his arm. She approached him carefully, she didn’t like waking up any of her brothers out of the blue after the stuff they had seen but especially not Gordon or Scott.

She laid a hand softly on his arm.

Continue here on AO3 or

“Hey big bro…” She rubbed his arm gently, he stirred but seemed otherwise unaffected. “You can’t sleep here Scott, you’ll do yourself an injury.” She moved her hand and shook his shoulder slightly, still nothing but a snuffle and a twitch. “Hey, Scooter.” She raised her voice to a normal level. “It’s time to scoot your butt or Grandma’s going to give you such a roasting you’ll look like the thanksgiving turkey.” Nothing. “Scott!” She raised her voice a little more and it paid off.

Scott awoke with a start, knocking the holoprojector over the edge of the desk with one arm and sweeping the cup onto the floor where it landed with a resounding smash, spraying coffee and ceramic everywhere, with the other.

“Shit Bonnie! Were you trying to give me a heart attack!? Holy shit! Look at this mess! Don’t sneak up on a guy like that! What if it had been glass and not just a cup!”

Bonnie stayed silent but eyed him in such a way that put an end to his ranting.

“Sorry, sorry. Not your fault.” Scott muttered, stretching out his back and yawning at the same time.

“Too right it’s not my fault.” But she grabbed a mop and sweeping brush anyway. “For the record, I tried to wake you up subtly, but it didn’t work. You should be in bed. Beds are for sleeping, desks are for working.”

“Wish I could sleep, I’ve got too much to do.” He pulled the projector back onto the desk and pressed the restart button.

While it loaded up they cleaned up the coffee and smashed cup mess.

“Don’t tell Virgil, he’ll be very upset about that waste, it was some of his special stuff.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

There was a soft ping and the screen reappeared on the desk.

“What are you doing anyway?” Bonnie examined the files on the screen as Scott sat back down.

“Financials for TI, Rescue reports for the GDF, monthly costings for IR. You name it I have to sort it out. Oh, and stuff for Alan’s school.”

He selected the last file downloaded and a report card popped up.

“He’s doing well,” Bonnie nodded.

“He’s behind though, can’t tell you all of the passive aggressive emails I’ve had about him needing to prioritise his schoolwork.”

Bonnie snorted. “They know what he does, right?”

“They are more than aware.” Scott sighed. “I’m behind on everything apart from this.” He picked up the tablet and scribbled his signature onto the projected report card, sending it right back to the email it came from.

“How far behind?”

“Enough that I can’t sleep for thinking about it, unless I just crash after a long day.” Scott rubbed his eyes. “Even then I only get two hours, maybe three if I’m really lucky.”

“Scott…”

“I can handle it.”

Bonnie frowned. “Do the boys know?”

“John and Virgil help where they can, but they aren’t authorised on this stuff. It has to be my signature unless I one hundred per-cent was not there at all on the rescue, not even coordinating from here. They fill in their bits and then hand them off to me, and I fill in the official forms.”

“You need to rest.”

“I’m good. I just need to catch up.”

“Oh yeah? And how long do you have to play catch up for?”

“Month or so, no big deal.” Scott shrugged.

He tried to hide the screen from her then, but since she was fully rested and he still groggy from his nap she managed to push him away with little to no effort.

“Scott! This one is from February!”

“So what?”

“We’re in June.”

“It’s fine, I can sort it. Done it before.” He tried to shrug again and play it off but the yawn that overtook him was large.

“You need to go to bed.”

“I just need more coffee.”

“I’ll go wake Virgil, and he’ll give you a sedative, or just manhandle you to bed.” She smirked as her glowered at her. “Better yet, I’ll go wake up Grandma. She’ll get you to bed, and lock you in if she has to.”

“But then who would do this glamorous job?” Scott thought he had her beaten until he took one look at her determined expression.

“Me.”

“What?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll fill everything in that I need to, check over everything that I have to, and you just need to sign it.”

“But I - -”

“You’re not running yourself ragged over this. I’ll tell you that for nothing.” She turned the projector off and Scott made an annoyed noise. “You are going to go to bed, go to sleep, I’m going to check on you every so often and if I find you gone from your bed I’m going to call Aunt Val and she’ll put you down as not mission safe, then you’ll be stuck.” Her eldest brother glared at her. “Then tomorrow, when you’re fully rested, you’re going to talk me through what I need to do, and I’m going to do this bureaucratic bullshit so that you don’t dig yourself an early grave through a horrifying amount of sleep deprivation. I’m still injured and I can’t help in any way other than this, so let me.”

Scott held her determined gaze with a half-glare of his own, but eventually sighed. Logic winning over control.

“Alright. Alright. If you’re so determined, you win. Have fun dealing with the TI board and the GDF.”

“Oh, I will,”

“Play nicely.”

“Don’t I always?”

Bonnie blinked at him innocently and Scott laughed.

“Come on biggest bro, time for bed.”

#Thunderbirds Are Go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #Thunderfam #Thunderbirds are go OC #Scott Tracy #Bonnie Tracy #Tracy Sister

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the-fandom-fuckup · 3 years

Text

A bit more for that modern fantasy au I teased a bit ago

Character designs n stuff are slightly based off the official halloween n fantasy ending arts, plus whatever else I wanted to do, so Kiri is a dragon shifter here, Baku is a werewolf, n Ochako is a witch.

There'll probably be a hint of a/b/o dynamics here for weres n shifters, n the idea of alpha!Kiri n alpha!Baku has stuck to me like glue, so that's a thing here also

There's no real plot for this, just these three being dumb n pining, and everyone around them rolling their eyes n dealing with it lmao

I've thought about jobs n first meetings tho, n came up with this. Kiri's a firefighter (along with Tetsu, who is also a dragon shifter, bc I love him and their bro-bond), bc big fire resistent boy running into fires to help people just makes sense. Also I really like the thought of him in the uniform

Ochako works as a self defense instructor with Gunhead at a small gym in town, probably helping people with magic items n stuff on the side for extra cash or smth, I dunno. She might wanna move into a more magically dominant field one day, but she likes the environment of the gym n the regulars that come in n chat between classes. She's also very good at what she does n has put many assholes in their place after they've scoffed at "the cute little girl you have here".

Baku is a "park ranger", n I use quotations bc that's the only title he could really give himself to have any authority over the land he owns. He gives himself more leeway than what some laws may grant, tho tbh if you're coming into his territory with intent to harm those in it, you're lucky to walk away at all just sayin'

He runs an escape park of sorts for weres n shifters to run around during full moons and other times they need to shed their human skin, personally owned so he can avoid all the bullshit regulations n "safety procedures" found in bigger places that try offering the same thing, but ultimately make the shifting process shittier than it needs to be. And words gets around so it gets super popular super fast, n people of all ages come by

Tbh the thought of a teeny tiny wolf, like 10y/o at most running around Baku n trying to get him to play, nipping at his ankles n calling him the pack alpha is really what settled the debate on whether he should be an alpha or omega. And the added image of Baku rolling his eyes n putting on his toughass act but not really minding it as he gets them moving with a tap on the ass, muttering "Fuckin told ya squirt, I'm not your pack alpha. Now find someone else's ankles to bite at, I'm busy", makes me feel really nice

For some first meetings, tbh Kiribaku probably happens first, n they meet when Kiri n Tetsu accidentally trespass on Baku's territory bc they're new to the area n found a big ass lake to soak in during a flight over town, like dude!! Fuck yea that could fit both of us easy, man I haven't soaked in my big form in forever lets go!

And ofc if the giant shadows overhead hadn't tipped him off the security sensors would've so Baku's like who in the FUCK!! N storms off to confront them bc you don't just come on his land like that. That's how people get fucking hurt you dumb assholes 😤😤

N Kiri n Tetsu are mostly just minding their own business, settling down into the lake like aw yea that's the shit, almost passing out bc they'd just had a long day n the water was so cool n the fish eatting the dead skin n shit off their scales was so relaxing. They don't even realise they'd drifted into a light doze when they hear furious snarling n harsh sniffing coming their way, n barely have enough time to get up before Baku comes tearing shit through the trees

And like. Kiri n Tetsu know that they're big boys. Their full sized dragon forms are huge n there's not much out there that scares them, but nobody likes coming face to face with a snarling werewolf, standing in their territory without any warning that you maybe shouldn't be there

Despite the hostile intro, it doesn't take much for the misunderatanding to be cleared up. There's a lot of apologies from Kiri n Tetsu n a lot of irritated snorts from Baku, but they get straightened out. Baku tells them what kinda show he's running n Kiri inatantly get sparkly eyes like dude!! You do that all by yourself?! That's so manly bro you gotta let us help with that

Baku snorts like you don't have to make empty offers if you wanna use the grounds, I don't refuse people unless they pose an actual threat to the others. You guys aren't dangerous, just stupid. N Kiri goes hey rude, but also it's gotta be a lot dealing with all that on your own. We can at least watch out from above, keep an eye on shit or whatever bc face it man, you may be great but even you can't be in multiple places at once.

And the only reason Baku ends up agreeing is bc they pester him about it until he's well past irritated, n he's figured out the only way to shut them up was concede. They can't be there fulltime anyway consudering their professions, but they're sure to help when they can

Kirichako meet at the gym. Kiri's buying a membership or smth bc you gotta keep the stength up bro! Can't be slacking when you're the difference between someone living n someong dying y'know? Ochako's either in a class or dealing with some hothead, her furrowed brows n puffed cheeks distracting Kiri n reminding him of a chipmunk before bud says smth he can't hear but has Ochako seeing red. It doesn't take long for him to end up on his ass n Kiri's just stuck watching, jaw dropped n heart eyes as Ochako tells the guy he can either fix his attitude or find somewhere else to go

Kiri turns to Tetsu like dude holy shit did you see that?? N Tetsu's like yea bro everyone saw it, n Ochako comes up to them like sorry about that. We have a no harassment policy here that some people overstep, n it sucks that we get people coming in that need it enforced but unfortunately it's pretty common.

Then, bc she's still a bit sour, she looks them both dead in the eyes with a fire raging behind hers like if that's not smth you think you can handle then you might as well save us all the hassle n leave now. N they're both like no way that was great, totally understandable, just tell us where to sign

And while she came off as kinda aggressive during their initial meet, Kiri's quick to find she has just as much sweetness to match her bite. He watches her between sets sometimes n sees how kind n gentle she can be with the younger classes that come in, how she doesn't single out people who struggle n instead moves to help n provide tips without making a huge deal of it

She's also one of the first people to come running when someone gets hurt, he finds out. He'd admittedly been more focused on her sparring with Gunhead than he'd been on the super heavy equipment he was using for his reps, n managed to look over at the perfect time to get flustered n drop it directly on his foot. The resounding crack was loud enough to catch quite a bit of attention, tho he knows the equipment is more likely to be damaged than his foot

Ochako doesn't even hesitate to run over n levitate him to take the pressure off of his not broken foot, going "oh my god are you okay?? Someone clear that bench please, he needs to get off his feet now!" N Kiri does appreciate the concern, as embarassing as it may be, n tries to tell her it's really not a big deal, thanks for the help but honestly--

N she rounds on him like say that one more time n you'll be dealing with a broken nose instead, now sit your ass down n let me handle this!! Kiri can't even reply with anything other than a quiet okay😳😳 bc he's always thought her determination was super admirable, but being this close n seeing it burn in her eyes so intensely is taking it to a whole new level n he has no clue how to handle it

Kacchako meeting is kind of a hybrid mix of the other two combined lmao. Baku owns a pack house where he lives with Deku, then later with Kiri, Tetsu, Mina, Kami, n Sero, but he's so busy with the park that he's hardly ever home. N since Ochako's kinda embarassed about her tiny ass appartment, they usually hang out at the pack house to talk over magic studies or gossip over whatever's happened recently. At this point Baku n Ochako have heard of each other but never been around at the same time

Which causes a problem one day while Ochako's in the kitchen making tea when Baku comes home. He'd had a stressful day warding off poachers or smth, n his rut's just a few days away now, so when he opens the door n is greeted with a slightly unfamiliar scent it sends him into a daze, where he stalks to the kitchen before he even knows that he's moving

Ochako knows tho, can hear the low growls and deliberately quiet steps creeping behind her, setting her on edge bc ohhhh my god, someone just broke into Deku's place holy shit!! And when it gets close enough to barely feel hot breath on the back of her neck she's flinging herself into action, all muscle memory as she gets a few quick jabs into Baku's gut. It knocks the question outta his lungs, getting out a choked "who the--" before her magic kicks in and she's picking him up n slamming him down with his weight returned for maximum momentum, body slamming the following "fUCK!!" out as well before she placed her weight on him to keep him down. She gets right in his face demanding "who are you?! How did you get in here?!"

And when he can breathe again Baku snaps back like "who tf am I?!? I live here!! Who tf are you?!?!" And like, she's still in fight mode so she's looking him over like hmm, so this is Bakugou. Then she realises wtf she's doing n goes oh my god it's Bakugou!! N she's jumping off him and apologising so fast that she's barely saying words, trying to take his hands n help him back up but getting swatted away bc you've done enough touching don't you think??

And yea, Baku's kinda pissed. Being attacked in your own house does that to anyone, let alone a pre-rut alpha. But also, he's kinda impressed, bc he can count on one hand the amount of people who've gotten the drop on him like that, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. So he just huffs at her with a final "try that shit again n I'll kill you", n stalks off to his room, having more important things to worry about right then than who's fucking around in his kitchen

((His rut decides to be completely unhelpful that time around, his alpha brain locking in on the faint perfume she'd left on his shirt while tossing him around and how perfectly it mixed with his own scent, as well as the shirt he nabbed from Kiri's laundry basket the night before. He rubs the scents of these strong potential mates all over his den, knots his rut aid with his face plastered to the shirts then uses it to scent the shirts even more, drunk off of how well their scents all mix together. He's rightfully embarassed during the end when he can start thinking properly again n throws both shirts to the back of his closet to be forgotten about--as much as his alpha fights him on it--n moves on to his business like normal.

Tho if he tries to be home more often when he knows Ochako's coming around, n spends more time in Kiri's space, nobody's mean enough to comment on it. At least, not at first.))

Man I have many feelings about this, but I'll leave it here for now bc I could go on forever

#BnHA #Kirikacchako #Bakugou Katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #Uraraka Ochako #Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu #modern fantasy au #I have a lot of feelings about this like wow #this is barely scratching the surface n it's so fucking long #a/b/o dynamics #at least a little bit

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

A well-earned break

Fandom: Yakuza

Rating: E

Warnings: /

Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou, Kim Yeonsu/Zhao Tianyou

Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Blow Jobs, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou

Summary:

Zhao takes advantage of a break during an Ijin Three meeting to have some fun with Joon-Gi Han.

(Also on AO3)

It’s during situations like this one that his father’s words echo in Zhao’s head: he has no patience, which is a bad trait for a leader. Well, guess what, pops? He is a bad leader, and no working on his flaws will ever fix that, even if he were willing to try it.

Though, he supposes, if he were more patient, maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so excruciatingly fucking boring. This isn’t even Liumang business per se, but more like something that the Geomijul and the Seiryu clan should’ve been able to solve between them, but politics are politics and Zhao, as much as he doesn’t want to be there, isn’t so foolish not to remain, lest they disrupt the carefully crafted equilibrium between the Ijin Three.

Still, if there was a way to make things less boring, they surely wouldn’t be upset about it…

Taking advantage of a well-earned break, he goes to hang in the lounge with some of their boys, as well as members of the Seiryu clan and the Geomijul, when a stupid idea comes to him. It’s not mortal - because Zhao’s aware that, if he dies here, it would mean war - but it could still be dangerous, which in their humble opinion makes it even more alluring.

He scouts his surroundings, and he’s surprised to see that the person he’s looking for is actually here, which is weird because he’d usually be attached to Seong-hui during times like this, but Seong-hui isn’t here.

Oh well, it’ll be easier for him to approach him at least, which he does immediately.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joon-gi Han? Shrinking from his errand boy duties?”

If Zhao has managed to get a rise out of the other, there is no sign of it on his face. Stoic son of a bitch.

“Zhao-san,” he greets him, in that usual polite tone of his, lightly bowing his head.

“C’mon Han-kun, there’s no need to be so formal,” Zhao states; after all, his dislike for this kind of stuff is well known.

“Nonetheless, hierarchy exists for a reason, and it would be uncouth of me not to respect it,” Joon-gi replies, though he quickly adds, “And to answer your previous question, no, I’m not ‘shrinking’ from my duties. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Cryptic answers are Han’s specialty, but at least it’s enough for Zhao to understand that, whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it under Seong-Hui’s orders. Interesting.

“Then I suppose I couldn’t steal some of your time?” they ask, exaggerating his innocent demeanor so that he’ll make Han suspicious.

It works: Han narrows his eyes at him, though no matter how hard he’s trying to keep a neutral demeanor, Zhao can see through his bullshit. He knows he’s intrigued. If Zhao has picked on the signs correctly - and they usually do - then his interest for the other is reciprocated - and how could it not be? They’re both quite attractive after all.

“What for?” Han asks, and yet he hasn’t explicitly said no. If Zhao had felt like showing all his cards, he would’ve smirked at that.

They take a step closer. “Don’t you think this meeting’s boring? Personally, I hate that we’re stuck in here at least for another hour,” he says.

Joon-gi Han doesn’t say anything, but he raises an eyebrow at him, a silent invite to continue.

“Well, if you’re so interested, I might share the idea I’ve just had after all…”

“I-I don’t think we should do this here,” Han suddenly mutters.

What comes out of Zhao’s lips in an amused huff. “Could’ve said it sooner, huh?”

Did he really just wait for them to get inside one of the bathroom stalls and for Zhao to drop to their knees before having second though?

“If you really don’t want to, fine, but man, what a shitty timing…”

If Han is really getting cold feet, Zhao will stop, but this doesn’t mean that he won’t be a bit sad about it - though he’ll never openly show it because that would be admitting that he’s not as above everything as he appears.

Joon-gi Han stays silent for a moment, probably thinking about the repercussions this affair will have. Always the overthinker.

His answer, though, surprises Zhao.

“Very well. Carry on.”

“W-What?” Zhao stutters, taken aback by the sudden change.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Han asks, only to then smirk. “Unless you are the one who’s having second thoughts…”

This little…

Zhao furrows their eyebrows, and a frown appears on his face before he can stop it and keep his usual laid-back demeanor. As he reaches Han’s pants and fumbles with the belt, there’s only one thing they can think.

“I’ll show you.”

They do indeed show him, given the way Han is barely able to keep his voice down, even going as far as to cover his mouth in order to muffle those little noises that, despite his best efforts, still come out.

Zhao isn’t perturbed by any of this shit, and keeps sucking his dick like a champ. He keeps it quite simple, only pulling a few tricks when it looks like Han’s getting used to the rhythm he’s dictating just because they want to keep him on his toes; it’s not often that he gets to see the Joon-gi Han like this, with his guard lowered, and he intends to make the most of it.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, Zhao can’t lie. The more Han loses his composure, the more addicted they feel to it.

When Han’s hand shoots to grab their hair, Zhao knows he has him wrapped all around his finger, and so he begins to slow down, right when Han was beginning to feel close to the orgasm.

He almost smirks at the frustrated huff that he lets out, but no matter what, Zhao will not go faster than this. Well, there is something that could give them an incentive, but Han has to say it first.

“Zhao-san.”

Cute, he’s calling for him now, but unfortunately this isn’t what Zhao’s waiting for.

“Zhao-san… faster.”

Closer, but still not it.

Taking pity on him, Zhao pulls away, gaze fixed on his face. “What’s the magic word?” they ask, pointing Han to the right direction.

At first Han remains silent, but the need to come soon takes over whatever sense of dignity or shame he must be feeling right now. Zhao almost wants to take a picture of him, to immortalize how red he’s become - and he can’t even look at him in the eyes!

“Faster… please…”

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Zhao teases him, though he’s merciful enough to wrap their lips around Han’s dick again, sucking it way harder than he was doing before.

Now that he’s actually putting some effort in this blowjob, Han doesn’t last long.

You’d figure that someone so intent in trying to make the least amount of noise possible would keep it that way throughout the whole ordeal, but Han half-shouts that he’s close, surprising even Zhao. He either has a secret exhibitionism kink, or Zhao must’ve driven him so mad that he’s not noticing how loud he’s being. Zhao hopes it’s the second.

Knowing that they can’t make a mess - not that he truly needs an excuse to do this - Zhao doesn’t pull away when Han comes, swallowing everything. Only then they pull away, making a show of licking his lips just to fluster Han further, succeeding of course.

The expression on his face is almost comical as he watches Zhao. Is he going to act scandalized now of all times?

In response, Zhao flashes him a smile, and that seems to get Han out of his trance, as he helps him up. Zhao’s lucky their joints don’t crack, but damn it doesn’t feel good to suddenly stand after staying on his knees for such a long time. Eh, they’re not as young as he once was; being almost thirty, he’s basically decrepit now - mental note: never say something like that near chairman Hoshino, or he might get offended or worse, he’d try to lecture them.

“Zhao-san… Um…”

Han’s voice is enough to bring Zhao back to the present, saving him the embarrassment of going on a tangent in their head about aging. Right, he’s still in the bathroom with him.

He recovers immediately, diverting Han’s attention by lightly patting on his cheek. “So? Good, huh?”

“I fear saying so will only succeed in further boosting your ego,” Han replies, matter-of-factly as always. “But… it was.”

“Aw, thank you Han-kun~” Zhao replies, purposefully standing way too close to Han than he should, just to elicit another reaction out of him, but he wasn’t expecting Han to grab them by the neck and draw him for a deep kiss. They can’t help but to let out a noise of surprise, which cause Han to smile against his lips, but oh well, it’s not like Zhao can complain about it.

Wouldn’t you know it, not only he has a nice dick, but he’s also a good kisser.

As much as Zhao would love to spend whatever time they have left here, kissing Han and maybe going back to do something more, he knows that he has a duty to attend to, no matter how much they don’t want to do it, so he has to unfortunately pull away from those sweet, sweet lips.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here, we should go back,” they say, then. Han nods, but it’s hard for Zhao to understand how he feels about it; he hopes he’s going to miss this closeness too.

“Yes, Zhao-san. It would be wise to join back with the others.”

After getting out of the bathroom, Zhao still attempts to make some small talk, because lord forbids he keeps their mouth shut for once.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Zhao-san all formal like that, especially while I suck you off. Makes me feel older than I actually am.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot,” Han replies. “I have to respect the chain of command, no matter what.”

“Didn’t see you thinking about that back there,” Zhao teases him, pointing to the bathroom with their head. He almost laughs at the offended expression on Han’s face at his words.

“Well…” the other begins, clearly trying to find a clever comeback. “That was an exception,” is what he comes up with, before beginning to walk away.

If he walks faster, they might be able to keep up with him, running after him like a schoolgirl with her senpai isn’t something Zhao would do, so he stays behind.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like a child!” they shout after him, but Han doesn’t stop his tracks, not that Zhao expected him to do so.

“Well, that was fun anyway! Call me if you want to do it again!” he adds, then, but this time as well he gets no reaction from Han, though they notice that his step falters just for a moment, so he must’ve breached through.

After this nice diversion, unfortunately they have to head back to the meeting, but now his mind feels lighter at least. He’ll be able to handle another few hours of this bullshit.

And so they settle down at the business table and lets Seong-hui and Hoshino discuss what they need to discuss, all while his mind is pleasantly blank, focused only on remembering the sweet sounds that Joon-gi Han made while their lips were wrapped up around his cock.

Man, that was fun. The only downside is that he won’t be able to brag about it, because if word goes around of what happened, both his and Han’s reputations would suffer from it. Oh well, at least he can be internally proud of himself.

They wonder if Han will ever be willing to repeat the experience; as for him, he knows for a fact that he’d love to do it again, and maybe even beyond a hushed blowjob inside a toilet stall.

Oh well, he won’t get an answer just wondering about it, but they’re not worried about that, because of course he’ll try to ask Han again - see, having no sense of shame does help in life!

Despite their effort, he can’t contain a small smirk on his lips, though they’re quick to cover it with his mouth, pretending he’s pondering on what is being discussed.

This is going to be so much fun.

#zhaohan #tianyou zhao #joon-gi han #yakuza #rgg #yakuza like a dragon #spicy #mine #kim yeonsu #my fics

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fangirlextraordinaire · 3 years

Text

So Much More

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Pedro on the set of GoT, Your friendship blossoms immediately but will it lead to more?

Written for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo. Loosely inspired by this gifset. Saw it and knew I had to write about him!

Square Filled: Friends to Lovers

Growing up, you knew you wanted to do behind-the-camera work in Hollywood. You interned on a few movies and we're good at your job. Thankfully, your skills hadn't gone unnoticed which led to you landing an amazing spot as the top PA on the set of Game of Thrones. You met so many wonderful actors but none were quite as impactful as Pedro Pascal. You hadn't really seen much of his work so you weren't sure what to expect but Giant Ball of Fun definitely wasn't your first guess. Somehow, he managed to get you as his personal PA which meant spending lots of time together. Not that you were complaining because um, have you seen the man?! He had such an effortless charm about him so how could you not become friends.

Unfortunately, those friendly feelings began to morph into something very unfriendlike. It completely snuck up on you with no warning. It was another of your hangout nights and Pedro was drunkenly telling you a funny set story about Kit & Emilia when you looked at him and blurted out, "You have such pretty lips." Why the hell did I just say that?!, you thought, mortified. Thankfully, it seemed as if Pedro was too involved in his story to realize what you said. You silently thanked all the gods that you didn't completely embarrass yourself.

After that night, there was a shift in your friendship. Pedro started standing slightly closer to you when talking, always having a hand on you somehow, hugging that lasted a second longer than they needed to. You didn't want to allow yourself the possibility that your feelings were reciprocated. Not that there was anything wrong with you. Any man would be lucky to have you but this wasn't just any man. You didn't want to jeopardize your friendship so you just took his flirting and touches in stride.

Pedro’s POV

What you didn't know was that your feelings were most certainly NOT one-sided. Pedro was smitten practically from the moment you met. Your smile made him weak in the knees and your infectious laugh never failed to bring a smile to his face. He wanted to tell you, tell the world, how he felt about you but what if you didn't feel the same? What if it became awkward between the two of you? He couldn't risk losing you as a friend so he vowed to not say anything unless you did.

His wish came true during one night of drinking. He was sharing a story about on-set antics when you mumbled something about his lips. He was sure that he misheard you until he saw the mini panic attack you were having. Could you really feel the same way? Maybe but he needed some concrete proof. He started to become more tactile with you, touching you whenever he could. He loved how you responded to him but he needed more. He had to tell you how he felt before he exploded. The perfect opportunity arose in the form of the season wrap party.

*Two weeks later*

Little did he know that you were also planning something. Growing tired of hiding your feelings, you decided that tonight at the party would be confession night. You didn't get to dress up often but tonight you were going full-glam. Your dress was simple but did the trick because every head turned when you walked in.

You made your way around congratulating everyone on a great season, purposely leaving Pedro for last. You felt his eyes on you the entire time bringing a warmth to your body that wasn't from the temperature of the room. He wasn't doing much better, mouth suddenly dry and brain turned to mush. Finally, you made your way to him and gave him a smirk dripping with mischief and a hint of lust.

"Hi Pedro. You clean up nicely," you told him and you meant it. The blue was really working for him and doing unspeakable things to you.

He blushes with a chuckle, his brain finally deciding to work again.

"Me?! You look like you just stepped off a runway!" Suddenly remembering his mission to woo you, he invites out on the patio for some fresh air.

"Y/N, I have something to tell you. You are an amazing woman. You laugh at all my stupid jokes, not afraid to call me on my bullshit, and you help me keep my head on straight. I could be wrong but I feel there's something between us that I wouldn't mind exploring."

You hang your head and slightly laugh, telling him that this was your plan for tonight too. The moon was shining bright on you both and it was a moment straight out of a romcom. You both started to lean in slowly, giving the other a chance to back out. He gently cradled your face, soft breath fanning across. When your lips connected, you could've sworn you saw sparks fly. His lips were so soft with just a hint of scratch from his mustache. The kiss was too short for your liking but held a promise of so many things to come.

Epilogue

It’s been about a month since that night and what a month it’s been! Many nights sharing dinner and kisses, just like you were currently doing. Seated across his lap, you both come up for some much-needed air.

"What do you think of my lips now?", he whispers.

"You heard that?!"

#Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

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Never underestimate a black suit

Bill Hader x Reader

I'm not even going to pretend I regret this one. It all started in 2009 when I became obsessed with SNL, then he just kept popping up, here an there and the crush just grow, and since thanks to It chapter 2 he is finally getting the recognition he deserves I got this idea last night and I got to write it before it escapes my mind.

One shot: Imagine you are a PA in Barry and you have the biggest crush on Bill Hader but it seems like he hates you because he is dead serious all the time he is around you.

Warnings: Swearing, Age gap (I know he is just over forty but god I love him).

You were pacing on the set, the Steve Allen Theater, hoping for someone, anyone, to give you an order so you could pretend you were so good at your job as PA so they won't fired you. But the damage was done, all thanks to your verbal incontinence and now the most amazing job in the world was about to be over.

You had started working on Barry about a year ago, and you have loved every minute of it, the cast was so sweet and down to earth, and make your job so much easier, D'arcy Carden for example was always thankful with you for the simplest things like bringing her coffee and Sarah Golberg even had invited you to lunch after you helped her with a female problem one time. They were so talented and nice that you could not believe it when the production called you back for the third season to keep working there.

But then it was him, the titular character, the fucking genius whose hard work and imagination have created this magnificent show, Bill Hader. Yes you were 28 and he 42, but still you couldn't explain it, there was something about the way he spoke and the way he walked that made you weak on your knees every time, and his laugh, you were sure something had been fixed in your mind after the first time you heard him laugh.

And then it was that first week of shooting from last year, the retro outfit with the suspenders, you couldn't get your eyes off him and you almost made one of the sound guys trip with Henry Winkler. And then the table scene, you were in the back making sure the extras were in their right place and avoiding look at him because he was so perfect on that scene that you certainly will froze just by looking at him.

This little crush was obvious for absolutely everyone, except obviously for Bill, you were sure that Anthony Carrigan even deliberately asked you for anything when he was talking to Bill to see you all clumsy and awkward, not to be a dick, just to push you to talk to him, but you were certain he didn't liked you, with most of the other members of the cast and crew he was always laughing, but in the limited interactions you had he was serious, asked you for a coffee now and then or to make a phone call but just that, and you were beginning to think your absurd infatuation was making him uncomfortable, so you tone it down, made a composed face and limited to do your job.

But now you had blow it. That morning they were filming the behind the episode, for the new season, at some point Barry had one of those daydreams and he imagine himself married to Sally, so there he was all perfect in a black suit sitting in his chair next to Alec Berg talking about the challenges of the new season and how thankful they were to come back.

"So the cast is amazing, the first two episodes of the season are incredible and you have managed to keep the same novelty feeling on the series, why do you think that is?" The guy interviewing them asked.

"Well I think it's mainly thanks to the cast" Alec started "This guys are just amazing, this season we are actually giving Sally a bigger arc and that is very interesting"

"And the crew too" Bill said then "I mean they make us all look good, even when some scenes are a total disaster, the set designers, the wardrobe and all that" they made a pause and you were there to put water bottles in the table between them.

"Bill I have known that you used to be a PA, you think that gives you a better understanding on how hard it is for and aspiring actor as Barry, and does it translate on the writing?" He asked and against your better judgment you stay there to listen.

"Totally, but on a more personal level I try to no be diva with my PAs, recognize they do a hard work and know them all by name, that sort of things"

And then your verbal incontinence kick in, and there, just a few feet away, your mouth was quicker than your brain and still looking at him you spoke, not that loud to be heard by the three of them but enough for him to look straight at you.

"That's bullshit" you instinctively took your hands to your mouth and turn around before you could saw him react and went away pretending you were taking coffee orders. And here you were just waiting for the "we are gonna have to let you go" speech when one of the other PAs called you.

"Hey Y/N Hader says you have to go to his dressing room ASAP" Your friend Danny said and you felt like something heavy fall down inside your stomach.

"Can someone else go?" You answered trying to find an excuse "I have to walk Kirby's dog" you lied.

"No, he said you specifically, something about a mail he asked you to sent?" You gave him a thumbs up and start walking to his dressing room, already feeling you were fired.

"Did you need anything Mr. Hader" You tried to sound professional, and not dead ass scared.

"Oh sure, Y/N, please come in" Great! He did know your name, so apart from impertinent you were an asswhole. And he was still in that stupid black suit that made him look so gorgeous, not like the tshirts and hoodies didn't. "Do you by any chance printed those documents I asked you to send last week? I seem to have deleted them and Alec is going to freak out" He said as nice and kind as always and the weight in your stomach start lightening.

"Yeah sure, I ... well unless someone says is confidential I make copies of everything, an old habit" You said looking for a flash drive in your purse. Since all the crew sing a NDA at the beginning of the production there was nothing wrong with that, unless of course you put it on Twitter if you wanted to go to jail.

"This is not your first work on a set right?" He asked while you started looking for the documents in his laptop.

"Oh no sir. I worked in Dead to me two years ago, but since they are in a break I try my luck here last year, and HBO has better catering" You said concentrated in your work.

"Oh so you met Christina?" He asked genuinely interested, "how old were you then?"

"26, a bit late to start in this business I know, but well I like it more" You answered with a smile and then pointed to the laptop "There they are".

"Thanks so much, truly a life saver" He said and let go a sigh "And you are never too old or too young to start, as long as you enjoy it, and tolerate your bosses... bullshit was it?" He said raising an eyebrow accusatory. You immediately turn white and then red and multiple apologizes started bubbling in your mouth.

"I'm so sorry sir, I really am, I sometimes speak my mind and say all this stupid stuff, I'm sorry" You finally managed to say. He started laughing, you didn't let go the painful irony of the situation, it was the first time you made him laugh, and probably will be the last.

"I'm sorry" He said finally " I couldn't help it, relax. I'm not mad. It was quite funny what you said, I sound like such a duchebag I know everyone by name" He said making an acute voice and you start calming down "But if anything I'm sorry I made you, or any of the crew, feel like you don't matter. All of you are actually great" He said and smiled again to you. "Also lose the Mr Hader, that's bullshit, you can call me Bill".

"Oh no, I couldn't, I'm already so embarrassed by why I did" you started and he looked at you making exaggerated puppy eyes mouthing please, and it was lucky you were so nervous otherwise you would have exploded with laughter "Ok Bill"

"Ok then you are 28, and recently started as a PA, you want to be an actress?" He said, leaning back on his desk.

"Absolutely not, I wanted to be a writer, I was a writer actually in a newspaper, but it didn't feel right and then I realized I wanted to write stories, scripts, and one of my friends was an extra in Stranger things, then she said Netflix needs PAs and well there I went" You said, it was easy talk to him. "Also I don't have the looks for it and hate to se myself in pictures"

"I don't have the looks for it, and here I am" He said opening his arms "But honestly you keep writing and trying, if it's what you want, I mean I get here"

"Well yeah but have seen yourself in that suit?" Your mouth betrayed you again and you look at your feet to hide your face. "Amm I think I have a dog to walk, bye" You said before he could said anything and run away.

The next weeks were difficult, you avoid being alone with Bill but you kept doing your job as good as always, and every once in a while you will notice him looking at you, thinking on how pathetic you must look to him. Until the last day of shooting, they wrapped up the season and it was amazing. The only thing left was to go for a drink at Henry's place and start looking for a new job, thankfully you had finally written a promising draft and your hopes were high.

Maybe that's why you actually choose to drink at the party, and dance with your friends and some members of the cast, and you were a little more talkative than usual, until Anthony who was talking to you about something you were not actually listening leave you alone next to bill.

"So what's next??" He asked in the middle of the loud music, and you didn't quite got it because he signaled the garden and you followed him. "Finally I couldn't hear my thoughts" He said once you were outside.

"It's really loud, but you all deserve it" You said and suddenly realized you were alone. "What where you asking?" You tried to sound casual.

"Oh if you could get me a coffee" he joked and then quickly add "No I was wondering what's next for you after this is over?"

"I actually waiting good news from Amazon, maybe with any luck I'll get a chance with one of my scripts" You said proudly.

"That's amazing" He said with bright happy eyes "I'm so glad for you, so we won't be seeing you in season four?"

"With any luck no" You answered "You'll have to find another impertinent PA to call out your bullshit" You add laughing.

"Oh I'm pretty sure we will find someone, or I can always call you and ask you to do it for free" He said and you could notice how close he was "You know as a concerned friend"

"Sure, I can do that, my contract finalized yesterday day so I guess starting today I'm just your rude friend that says come on man don't be a duchebag" You said letting go a small laugh but he was looking at you completely serious.

"In that case..." He started and took your face between his hands, he was so tall and you felt so tiny next to him but also it was so nice and comfortable being so close, he lean in to kiss you and stop just close enough to your mouth so you will feel his breath, as if he asked for your permission to continue, and instead of saying something that could ruin the moment you close the distance and kiss him.

His lips felt soft and tender over your lips, and he slowly started deepening the kiss pressing you against him from your waist, and you hold on to the front of his jacket trying to keep him closer to you, hoping for this moment to never end, until the absurd necessity of oxygen force you to split.

"I ... I didn't think it would be appropriate to do that when we were working together" He started, smiling like a child. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was avoiding you, Anthony messing up with me by having you around all the time didn't help either"

"Don't worry it's okay, and yeah it would have been super inappropriate but thank god I no longer have a job" you said still trying to make sense of the situation.

"Would you... I mean I love Henry but there's only alcohol in here, do you want to go grab some dinner?" He said pointing the exit.

"I would love that" you answered, overwhelmed by joy and you followed him to the door, happy with all the possibilities the future hold.

#I love bill hader #sue me #bill hader #bill hader imagine #barry berkman #barry hbo #fanfic #fluff #bill hader fanfiction #bill hader x reader #bill hader edit #100 #200 #300 #400

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kpopmalereader · 4 years

Text

helmet ; bang chan

• summary: dating biker!chan • pairing: biker!bang chan x male!reader • word count: 1207 • to do

A very familiar bike stops at your usual bus stop and your “boyfriend” looks around for you, intimidating everyone in the vicinity. He pulls off his helmet, something he usually doesn’t wear unless he has a dramatic reason to, the glare on his face further pushing everyone around you away.

You push down your feelings of happiness at seeing him in person in favor of rolling your eyes in the most dramatic way. You take a few steps towards him. Enough steps to get away from the crowd of people but not enough to be close enough to Bang Chan, forcing him to walk the last few feet to you.

The smile that first made you fall for him appears on his face as he crosses the halfway point to you. “Hey, baby boy.”

Your unamused expression must not falter too much because he has the decency to look minorly embarrassed about his actions.

“Is this what we do now?” You ask. “I don’t see you for a week and then you surprise me somewhere and expect to sweep me off my feet all over again.”

He holds the helmet he was previously wearing out. As the helmet lightly bumps against your chest you become even more upset that he doesn’t have helmet hair, because of course he doesn’t, and roll your eyes.

“I’ll ride the bus.” You state, pushing the helmet back at him. “Thank you, though.”

“Hey, hey,” He pulls your hand back as you turn away. “Baby. Baby boy, come on.” He attempts to bring you closer to him, blocked by your planted feet. “Babe, I’m sorry, really. I had a job I had to go to, I should’ve called but I was busy.”

You pretend to nod along. “Mhm, yeah, busy with what, Chan? Hm? Or who? Where? What kind of job?”

He sighs and rubs your hand, pulling out all the stops to win you back. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Yeah,” You hesitate on taking your hand back but follow-through after a few seconds. “I have a bus to catch, Chan, I’ll see you around.”

You step back and shrug your shoulders, adding something just for a little extra sting. “Probably after about two weeks.”

Chan sits in a barstool, pretending to glance at the drink menu in front of him. A bouncer hovers close before you wave him off, rolling your eyes at the situation.

“You’re coming here now? You know this is my job, right?”

“What else was I supposed to do, babe? You haven’t been returning my texts or my calls.”

“Normally after someone stops replying to messages and doesn’t answer the door when you show up, it’s because they’re upset for some reason and they’re ignoring you. Like, I don’t know, maybe they’re trying to get over you. They’re tired of your bullshit and want to get away for a while.”

“That’s harsh, baby boy.”

“You left, Chan, for a week. Again.” You start to aggressively dry a cup as your manager walks by. “And I’m lucky it was only a week. Before that, you left for three weeks, a week before that, two weeks before that… do you want me to keep going?”

He sighs and leans forward. “That’s my job, babe, I can’t help that I have to go away on business sometimes.”

You lean closer with him, glare more intense than he’s ever seen. “I’m not saying you have to leave your little wannabe crime syndicate. You don’t have to stay by me every second of every day. You can go off on work and I don’t have to know anything about it but when you’ll leave and when you’ll be back.”

“I-”

“I don’t need to go with you. I don’t even need you to message me every day. But if we’re going to be anything other than an occasional fling, I want to know that you’re not going to be around. I don’t want to wake up one day with you gone and go weeks at a time without knowing if you’re even fucking alive, Bang Chan.”

You don’t realize the sting at your eyes until after your sentences are finished, blinking away the emotions appearing suddenly. You step back and look around to see if anyone overheard you.

“When we first started whatever this is I thought I would be able to change you but over the time I’ve known you, I forgot about wanting to change you and just wanted to be around you. I wanted to spend time with you and get to know you and I thought that was what you wanted too but… recently it feels like you’re with me for my bed and steady ground and because you think that no matter what I won’t leave.” You straighten your apron and cross your arms. “I don’t want to be that, Chan, I want it to be equal instead of me chasing after you all the time.”

“Y/N…” He starts and you clear your throat as another customer walks to the bar.

You leave Chan in his thoughts to attend to the other customer, striking up normal conversations as you usually would. Chan watches the spot you were previously standing in while you work until you can once again occupy the space.

You wait for him to speak first, mentally taking inventory of the bottles around you while you wait for the silence to be filled.

“I can’t tell you where I go for work, I can’t tell you what I do, in my mind you already know too much to be safe. I want you to have deniability and be able to honestly say you have no clue about my life outside of you but I don’t want you out of my life. I pretend to be hard and tough but I really need someone like you. And I like being around you. You’re not just a bed or a body, but you are steady ground because I need something to want to come back to.”

You try to keep up your stony exterior as he speaks.

“I’m not just saying these things to win you back. I hope I’m winning you back, but I also want you to know I mean the things I’m saying. I’ll tell you when I leave, I’ll give you a time-frame on when I’ll be back,” He reaches for your hand and you begin to crack under his words. “Baby boy, give me one more chance. One more chance to prove that I’m not as much of an asshole as everyone sees me as.”

You roll your eyes, softer than before. “For someone who acts like you do, you’re very romantic when you try to be.”

“I’m trying to win back my boy, I have to pull out all the stops.” He kisses your knuckles and winks. “He deserves it.”

“You’re lucky I like you, Bang Chan. Fine.” You pull your hand away and lean onto the bar. “The first thing you’re going to do to win me back is take me to dinner when I get off work.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I brought you a helmet and everything.”

“I need it with you.”

#stray kids #kpop #kpop scenario #stray kids x reader #male reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #chan #bang chan #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #stray kids male reader #chan x reader #chan x male reader #chan x male!reader #bang chan x male reader #bang chan x male!reader

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awhitehead17 · 4 years

Text

You Bring Us Together

Tim & Dick & Jason, Magic AU, They all have powers, brotherly Bonding, Humour, Injury, Insecurity, Big brother’s Dick and Jason, Tim over thinks too much.

Summary: They're family and they're all supposed to look out for one another. It's kind of hard to remember that when all his brothers want to do is kill each other, however when the situation calls for it, they can in fact work together and be a family. It's just unfortunate that one of them gets injured in order for that to happen.

A/N: This is done for ‘AU: Magic’ on my Batfam bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“Jason!”

The scream gets Bruce’s attention, causing to look up from the newspaper he was currently reading. He pauses, listening out for more shouts and waits to decide on whether he needs to go and interfere with whatever is going on. He takes a sip of his coffee, ready to go back to the paper

“Stop it asshole!”

He puts the coffee down and sighs. He takes a deep breath and lets it before calling out, “Jason, don’t set your brother on fire!”

Bruce knows exactly what’s happened without even needing to be in the room witnessing it. He knows because he knows his kids.

“It’s not my fault!” Comes the response. “The little twerp knows to not sneak up on me like that!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d be in this room? I don’t always know where you are!”

“That's a total lie and you know it! You always know.”

Bruce rubs a hand across his forehead, wondering where he went wrong in his life. He loves his kids, he does but sometimes they are a pain in the ass. In the room not too far away he hears a couple more screams and arguments between his middle two sons. One of them had clearly upset the other and now they’re fighting.

Despite what was going on in the room next door, Bruce stays in his seat and ignores the commotion. He’s learnt that sometimes it’s best just to let them fight it out. He’ll check on them and scold them in a bit when things have calmed down.

He was just getting back into reading the paper when he’s joined by another body. Bruce glances sideways as his eldest son comes strolling into the kitchen, picks up an orange from the side before joining him at the table.

Dick wordlessly peels the orange and starts eating the segments, after three he finally speaks up. “So, any reason why you’re in here instead of pulling Jay and Tim apart?”

Bruce hums noncommittedly, “I’ll deal with them in a bit, once they’ve calmed down.”

As if on cue, a loud crashing sound could be heard and another scream. Bruce continues to ignore it in favour of the paper, deciding that it was too early to be dealing with such antics.

Next to him Dick snorts, “Bet you wish you just stopped at one huh?”

Bruce shoots him an amused look with a raised eyebrow in question, “Just one? Most of the time I wished I never started at all.”

Dick looks at him for a moment before pouting, “That was mean.”

He doesn’t give Dick a verbal answer, only a smirk in response and goes back to his paper. He loves all his kids and they all know it, even if he was sometimes bad at showing it. He wouldn’t change his life now for anything else.

It goes silent between the two of them while they do their individual tasks. Bruce sips his coffee and reads the paper while Dick munches on the orange. After a while an audible sigh comes from next to him, “And once again I’m doing your job. You really ought to step up Bruce, you’re lucky I decided to come and visit this weekend. How do you guys all survive without me?”

“We have Alfred.”

Dick pauses from where he was getting up and considers his answer for a moment. He nods in agreement, “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that, but still…”

Bruce watches as his eldest chucks the orange peel in the bin and as he heads out of the room towards where his brothers were still arguing. There was another crash and Bruce lets out another sigh, he wishes he had something stronger than coffee in that moment. Kids. He loves them but they are most certainly a pain in the ass.

----

As Dick heads towards the room his brothers were in, he mentally prepares himself for the onslaught that’s about to come. He stops outside the door, rolls his shoulders back and grabs the fire extinguisher that’s placed outside of the room.

Since Jason developed his powers, they’ve taken to having fire extinguishers in every corridor of the Manor just so they can be on hand as Jason often lost control of his powers, they were helpful in managing the outbreaks.

He walks into the room and finds a scene that was familiar. Tim was crowded on top of the cabinet, shouting curses at Jason who happened to be on the floor shouting back up at him with his hands lit up.

“Come on Timbit! Just come down here I promise I won’t do anything to you.” Jason said after Tim called him something Dick doesn’t want to repeat. Why he doesn’t just teleport away Dick wasn’t sure, unless he’s injured somehow.

Tim’s powers were a little different, unlike Jason who had fire manipulation, Tim had teleportation powers, but if he was injured in anyway then he couldn’t use them. The only explanation for that is because they’re fairly new and Tim was still getting used to them, once he’s older and stronger then he’d be able to do more.

“Fuck off you liar. As soon as I come down, I’m toast. Literally!”

Without even being near his brothers he could feel their emotions and he knew straight up that Jason was planning something harmful to Tim as soon as he touches on the ground. Jason was lying and they all knew it.

His powers were different again, he was an Empath. He has the ability to read someone’s emotion by simply touching them, to a further degree he can manipulate them and a few other things.

“Come down here!” Jason yells, clearly losing his patience now.

Tim doesn’t move from his spot.

“Jason!” Dick calls getting both of their attention. “Put out your hands and let him down. Tim knock it off and get your ass down to the ground.”

Jason’s hands light even more as he turns and glares at Dick, “Oh I see how it is. You come running when he cries for help and makes me look like the bad guy but where were you when I needed help huh? Playing favourites much.”

Dick rolls his eyes, Jason can be so childish and this isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument. Dick sends him an unamused look, he holds the end of the extinguisher up and pointed at Jason, “If you don’t put your hands out I’ll spray you.”

His brother raises an eyebrow, “Wow, such a cold threat Dickie.”

“Just do it.” Tim pipes up his place on top of the cabinet.

There’s a beat or two as both Dick and Jason look at him. Blinking at the teenager who simply stares back and shrugs but doesn’t offer any further comments.

Jason turns back to Dick and lights his hands even more so there were small flames in his palms. “Is this challenge? I will beat your ass and once I beat yours I’ll beat his.”

Dick really wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with his brothers bullshit, or more accurately, Jason’s bullshit. This is the stuff Bruce really needs to sort out, not him.

He gives Jason a deadpan look and says, “No, not really,” before spraying him with the hose.

Dick isn’t going to deny that he didn’t enjoy seeing Jason getting doused with the foam, it was always fun to spray his brother but again he really shouldn’t have to do this. About a minute later he turns off the extinguisher and puts it down to the side before walking over to where Jason was coughing and spluttering. The foam was everywhere and he’d have to apologise to Alfred for the mess but that’s a bridge to cross when they get to it.

While he waits for Jason to get himself together movement catches his eye and he sees Tim starting to climb down from the cabinet. He waits until the teen was on the ground before addressing him, “Don’t even think about it.” He says sternly, halting Tim in his tracks on the way to the door. “Come here.”

He gestures with his hand to Tim who looks at him with wide eyes.

“Tim. Come here.”

The teen reluctantly walks over to him and once he’s in reaching distance he reaches out to grab Tim’s wrist to bring him in close. Dick looks over his brother in concern, “Where are you hurt? And don’t say you’re fine because you aren’t, you would have teleported if you were fine.”

Tim grumbles under his breath but slowly lifts up his t-shirt which was burnt black. Underneath, his pale skin was now a harsh pink colour and looking very sore and Dick winces at seeing it. From where he still had Tim’s wrist in his hand, he could feel his brother’s pain through his powers

Knowing that Tim wouldn’t admit it, he simply says, “That looks sore Timmy, go and see Alfred okay.”

“I’m fine, it isn’t my first burn.” Tim snatches his wrist out of Dick’s grasp and sends a glare in Jason’s direction. “There’s no need to bother Alfred over this.”

Dick rubs a hand tiredly over his face before giving his brother a stern look. “He’d rather you go to him than get some sort of infection or even be in pain. He’ll heal you in under three minutes. Now go.”

They stare at one another for a minute or two. Dick doesn’t back down and eventually Tim relents. He stalks away mumbling unhappily under his breath. Dick watches him go before turning around to face Jason with a disappointed look.

“You could have seriously hurt him you know,”

Jason glares at him, “He startled me. I jumped and reacted in defence and he was in the way. That’s on him, not me.”

“You need to be more careful with your powers.”

“Don’t have a go at me! It’s his fault in the first place for sneaking up on me when he knows he shouldn’t. Why aren’t you having a go at him huh?”

“I’ll have a word with him once Alfred has healed him alright. Just try and be more careful, please.”

Jason narrows his eyes before looking away, quietly and reluctantly agreeing. Again, this is the sort of shit Bruce ought to be dealing with, not him. It probably doesn’t help that they’re all stubborn mules that constantly butt heads but here they all were as a dysfunctional family.

He snorts, “Sometimes this is the reason why I moved cities in the first place, you guys drive me nuts.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, “Oh please, you would be bored if we weren’t here. We keep you on your toes, make things exciting.”

“You certainly do.” he agrees exasperatedly but fondly. No matter what he says he wouldn’t change them for the world. “Now that's been sorted I’m going to go check that Tim actually did go to Alfred and then have a word with him and then one with Bruce while I’m at it.”

-------

It was halfway through the battle when Tim sees Dick fall to the ground and not get back up again. He knocks the goon he was fighting to the side, whacking him on the head with his staff so he crumples to the ground unconscious before rushing over to Dick’s side. Sliding to his knees, Tim takes in his brother’s form and tries to work out what’s wrong.

“Nightwing? Nightwing!” He scans his brother’s body until he finally sees a small puddle of blood forming at the man’s hip. Being as careful as he can, he maneuverers Dick’s body so he was lying on his back so Tim could see the wound. He tries to not let panic seep in at what he sees.

He raises a shaky hand to his comm, “Nightwing’s down. A bullet wound in the abdominal area, not sure on the severity of it yet but its bleeding profusely. I’m going to try and slow it down.”

He starts getting bandages out of his belt and applying pressure to the wound, he doesn’t know if the bullet is in there or not but a quick glance at Dick’s back, it looks like it went straight through in what was hopefully a clean shot. But something else must have happened for Dick to be knocked unconscious. Tim hopes there wasn’t a head injury to pair up with the bullet wound.

He needs to move him, get him to Alfred who would be able to heal him, but there’s no way Tim would be able to teleport him in this condition. He’s prone to bleeding out before Tim could get them at the cave. Teleporting now would do more harm than good.

“I’m coming Red, don’t do anything ‘til I’m there.” Jason’s voice comes through on his comm and he frowns. What was he going to do beside try to not get shot or let Dick die? He’s not stupid.

What seems like years later, Red Hood was sliding down on Dick’s opposite side. Tim says nothing as he watches the older man do his own examination of the situation.

“I’m going to cauterize the wound, that should hold off the bleeding until you’re able to get him back to the cave.”

Tim blinks up at him behind his mask. “What? Hood, I can’t move him like this! He’s in too of a precious state, it could just end up doing more damage. And I’m not exactly experienced enough to move an unconscious body!”

He was still learning his powers. They hadn’t developed too long ago and Tim was still working out all of the kinks to them. He can barely teleport someone who is conscious let alone someone who is unconscious, he isn’t skilled or powerful enough to achieve that yet!

Opposite him Jason starts tearing away the Nightwing suit to reveal Dick’s bloody and wounded skin. If he wasn’t used to seeing this sort of thing, Tim would have puked. Jason rips his gloves off and lights his hands up, a small flame alive in the middle of his palm.

Tim swallows thickly, knowing what was about to happen wasn’t going to be pretty. He shifts around so he’s pressing Dick’s other side and arm to the floor to try and keep him in place just in case he wakes up and thrashes.

“As soon as I’m done I want you to take him, understand Red?” Tim swallows again and nods in acknowledgement but he refuses to meet Jason’s eyes, or at least the direction of his gaze as his brother was wearing his helmet.

“Red.”

Damn him, Tim thinks. He still refuses to look up, he grits his teeth and says, “Yeah I get it Hood. Just get on with it.”

Understanding what he needs to do is different from actually doing it.

“Right I know what you’re thinking and you’ll be fine, Dick will be fine. Quit thinking with that oversized brain of yours and just focus on getting your ass to the cave along with Dick.”

Tim finally snaps his gaze up, glaring at the man through his mask. “What if I can’t! I don’t know what’ll go wrong with my powers!”

A frustrated sound comes from Jason’s helmet. “Jesus Christ Red, nothing will happen. Do you know where you need to go?”

“How do you know that?”

“Do you know where you need to go?”

“Yes.”

“Then picture it and go there when I tell you to. Don’t think about anything else. Ready?”

Tim grits his teeth again to stop himself from commenting, instead choosing to nod and try to listen to what Jason was telling him. The cave. He needed to go to the cave where the medical bay was. He can picture it, knows the image off by heart. It’s an easy place to teleport too, or should be.

Jason places his hands on Dick’s wound and for a moment nothing happens but then his brother was awake and screaming. His body jerks and thrashes as it tries to get away from the pain but both Jason and Tim hold on, making sure he doesn’t move away from Jason’s hands.

Then like that it was done, and the lovely smell of burnt flesh hangs in the air. Once again, Tim wants to vomit but he’s able to keep control of his stomach before anything happens. Dick slumps back down on the ground, his body going limp and was breathing heavily, seeming like he’s fallen unconscious again.

“You need to go.” He looks up to find Hood staring at him as he puts his gloves back on, hands clear from any flame or fire. Tim blinks at him, digesting his words. “Red you gotta go.”

“Right, right,” Tim mumbles looking back down at Dick’s body. He grips his brother tightly and wills his powers up. He can do this. He can get them there. To the cave where Alfred was and where the med bay was.

He wills his powers up, letting them wash him as well as Dick and concentrates on the picture of the cave in his mind and powers himself there.

The landing could have gone much better. They sprawl out over the floor in a heap and in a tangle of limbs. Tim squirms away and shoots up looking at their new surroundings, he lets out a cry in relief when he finds that they are in the cave. He did it, he actually did it.

“Red Robin are you alright?” A voice with a British accent speaks out.

Tim turns to find Alfred rushing to them, he gestures to Dick’s limp body, “You need to heal him, quickly, he’s got a wound. Hood cauterized it but it needs proper healing. Please, just help him.”

Alfred doesn’t waste anymore time, he picks Dick off the ground like he weighed nothing and drops him onto the cot. Knowing his brother was now in good hands Tim slumps down to the ground and doesn’t move. A voice comes through his comm, letting him know the battle is more or less wrapped up now.

About an hour later Alfred tells Tim that Dick will be alright, once he’s had food, got some rest and sleep he’ll be good as new. Tim thanks him and appreciates how lucky they are that they have Alfred and even better that he has the ability to heal people. He’s saved their asses so many times it’s unreal.

Once Tim has showered and had something to eat himself he goes and sits by Dick’s bedside, watching his brother sleep. While today hadn’t been that bad it was still terrifying, it’s never nice when one of them gets injured. Then of course there’s the part with his powers, he had managed to teleport them both with no trouble. That’s great news because it means he’s getting more fine control over them but also now he’s getting stronger.

Tim’s brought out of his head when a hand lands on his shoulder. He jumps and looks around to find Jason grinning at him. The older man moves his hand off his shoulder and ruffles his hair before collapsing into the seat next to him.

“Told you, that you could do it,” he states simply.

Tim snorts and rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” Of course he was ecstatic over that fact, but he wasn’t going to let Jason know that.

“Confidence is key Baby Bird, stop using that too massive of a brain of yours to overthink everything and just get on with things.”

“Only if it was that easy.”

Jason opens his mouth to comment but he gets cuts off by a groan. Their attention moves to the bed as Dick starts to shift and his eyes open to look at them. A dopey grin takes over his face, “Hey guys, how’s it goin’?”

“How do you feel?” Tim asks him instead of answering. Dick blinks tiredly at them and takes a moment to answer.

“Tired, a little achy. I’m fine though.” He pauses as if thinking about something he looks down before looking back up. “Did Alfie work his magic on me?”

Tim nods, “He did. You got shot if you remember, we got you to the cave and he fixed you right up.”

Movement by his hip gets Tim’s attention and he finds Dick’s hand opening and closing, he reaches over to grasp it in both of his, holding it tightly.

“How did you get me to the cave?”

Tim goes to answer but he’s beaten by Jason, who stands up and clamps his hands on his shoulders. “Our little birdie is growing up, he got you to the cave by himself. I had to cauterize the wound with my powers but he got you here to Alfred himself.”

Dick blinks at both of them before another smile crosses his face, “Thank you Timmy. I’m proud of you. I would give you a hug but y’know, not right now.”

Tim shrugs, knocking Jason’s hands off as he does so, “It was nothing. I’m just glad you safe.”

Something else seemed to click in Dick’s mind because he’s giving them both a thoughtful look, “You guys worked together? To help me?”

Tim shoots Jason a confused look, “Uh kind of?”

“I’m so proud of you guys! You can work together, we’re family we all love each other really.”

Tim lets out a chuckle, hearing Jason do the same next to him, “Uh sure Dick.”

“Just this once Dickie,” Jason says, “I ain’t promising there won’t be no more fights after this.”

Dick pouts at hearing that but he seems to resign, “Fine, I’ll take the win while I can. We’ll work on it.”

They both laugh again and let Dick drift off back to sleep. Tim glances at Jason before looking away again, “Uh, thanks for today. It, um, it helped.”

“Not a problem runt. Like I said confidence. Perhaps we could work on it if you like sometime?”

Tim looks back at him with surprise, “Really? Sure if you want to.”

Jason grunts and nods, he stands back up and starts walking away. Tim figures he’s probably had enough feelings for one day. “I’m done for today, talk to you tomorrow about it.”

Tim lets him go without any words, he turns back to Dick’s sleeping body and smiles to himself, feeling stated in a way he wasn’t before. It’s something to look forward to at least, there’ll undoubtedly be hiccups ups along the way but it’s something at least.

#Tim Drake #Jason Todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #batfamily #humour #fanfiction #injury #insecurities #big brother dick #big brother jason #magic au #powers au #batfam bingo 2019 #over thinking

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 19

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud

Nik has managed to arrange a private flight; a jet owned by a high-profile business big wig she's provided previous -and successful- services for. He has all the toys and all the connections: his own gulf stream, no checking of passports and baggage through either the small municipal airport in Telluride or the much larger one in Belfast, a flight manifesto with all fictitious names, and absolutely no contact with the general public. Normally Yaz would fly them in and out of extractions, but with many unknowns and the need for him to run point on the tech side of things in Ireland, a private flight had been the best and safest choice.

Tyler had taken the seat at the very back of the jet; preferring to space himself out from the other two passengers and the small flight crew. He'd needed a chance to clear his head; a stampede of thoughts surging through his already weary brain. Unable to get Millie's meltdown out of his mind, the way she'd become a child possessed and he'd had to physically restrain her. Heart still aching over the words she'd said: “I hate you”, “Don't come back. EVER.” Stunned by the vehemence and hostility that had just spewed from such a tiny, innocent body. The look of the utmost betrayal written all over her face.

And his wife. That heartbroken, lost, and haunted look in her eyes when she'd kissed him goodbye. The way she'd clung to him when the made love for the last time; her hands slowly moving over his body, as if committing every inch of him to memory. Of their desire to have another baby: the first and last. And how he hopes and prays that the news doesn't come while he's away.

His eyes are closed, arms folded over his chest, legs stretched out under the seat in front of him when he feels someone slip into the seat beside him. And he cracks open one eye just as McCann, a glass of whiskey in his hand, plops down next to him. Part of him wants to tell the guy to fuck off; after all, he's the main reason behind Millie's meltdown and harsh words and Esme's heartbreak. But his more logical and humane side reminds him that this is a man who genuinely needs someone to prop him up Who is going through quite possibly the worst shit a husband and a father could ever deal with.

“It's always hard saying goodbye,” McCann says, as he sips his drink.

Tyler nods. “My wife takes it pretty bad. She's been struggling with some things. Since Dhaka.”

“PTSD?”

“Undiagnosed. But yeah, I think so.”

He'd been so caught up dealing with his own issues and getting Ovi the help he needed, that her struggles had bee pushed to the back burner. And they've spent so much time, effort, and energy during their five years of marriage having a babies and raising them, that he's never really pressed the issue of her getting some kind of help. But he sees it. Every day. The way she struggles with her up and down moods; hyper and manic one moment, horrifically down and depressed the next. Her battle with self confidence since having Declan and being unable to lose the last ten pounds she is always obsessing about. The sleep issues. The days when she can't even get out of bed because the weight of the world is just wearing her down.

“How about your kids?” McCann asked. “How do they handle it?”

“The baby's too young to understand anything. The twins handled it pretty well. They're just disappointed that we didn't get to do all the things I promised we would when I got back last week. My daughter...” he sighs, leaning his head back against the seat. “...she didn't take it too well.” He leaves it at that. It's too painful to relive, and the man sitting beside him doesn't need to know every detail of what goes on behind closed doors.

“She's a daddy's girl?”

Tyler nods. “Well, she was. I'm not so sure about now.”

“Kids are resilient,” the other man reasons. “By tomorrow she'll have bounced back and all will be forgiven.”

“I hope so. She's a stubborn little thing. Like her mother. She doesn't forgive and forget easily. If at all. I've been on my wife's shit list a few times and the past and it felt like I was never getting off of it. She's amazing though,” he smiles. “She's put up with a lot. Keeps putting up with a lot. I haven't always been the best husband for her. I'm not an easy person to live with. Yet she keeps hanging in there and giving me chance after chance.”

While infidelity has never been an issue, his own struggles with mental health problems and substance abuse has caused a lot of angst within the last few years, as has his often volatile temper and his need for control and issues with seeing her as a possession instead of an actual person. But they've battled through it; a lot of fights, counselling, even a trial separation when the twins were only two.

They latter they'd kept a secret from everyone they knew. Friends and family alike. It had been the wake up call that he'd needed; living in a shitty hotel, relegated to seeing his kids once every two weeks, wanting so badly to beg and plead with her to just take him back yet his pride never actually allowing him to do it. For six months they'd lived like that. Barely speaking except for him he'd stop by to grab the kids or when he took them home. Never actually setting foot in the house, instead having to carry on awkward and tension filled conversations with her on the front porch. Until one night she'd called him and said she missed him. That she wanted him to come home.

After that he'd made it his mission to make up for all the bullshit he'd put her through.

“You're lucky,” McCann says. “That you found someone like that. Not many in the game manage to, you know. It's hard finding someone that gets it. That understands why we do what we do. It's a hard life. Not just for us, but for them too. Having to put up with us gone all the time, taking care of a house and a family all on their own. It's why so many people in this job never get married. Or if they do, it never lasts long.”

Tyler thinks about G. Finally meeting the love of his life and settling down, only to never get the chance to grow old and gray with his bride.

“Drink?” McCann offers. “I can wave the stewardess over.”

“I'm fine, mate. Thanks. I'm trying to stay clean for a couple of weeks. I've been going a little overboard lately and I need to slow down. For my family.”

“Battles with the bottle?”

Tyler hesitates on using the word 'alcoholic'. He's never felt that things have been that out of control. At least not within the past five years.

“I struggle from time to time,” he admits. “It's my weakness. I try not to let it beat me.”

“Must be hard. Seeing what you see. Doing the things you do.”

“It has it's moments,” he agrees.

“You know,” McCann downs the remains of his drink, the motions to the stewardess that he'd like another. “You didn't have to stay in a hotel. I've got enough room at my place. Why waste the money?”

“I'm not actually paying for anything. Nik takes care of all that. I appreciate the offer, but I work better on my own. When I have my own space and my own little bubble. I focus a lot better. Besides, the last time I stayed under the same roof as someone while doing a job, I ended up marrying them. And no offence, but you're just not my type.”

McCann laughs at that. “None taken. I can definitely understand why you'd prefer to stay under the same roof with her. I hear Nik has a little project she's working on. Starting up the business in North America.”

Tyler nods.

“She said she asked you to run it. You given it much thought?”

“If I had to give my answer now, it would be yes. But ask me in two weeks. It all depends on how things go while we're in Ireland. Things go nice and smooth, then I go for it. Things go to shit, then I just go home and keep doing what I'm doing now. I've already told Nik this is my last year. That I'd give her twelve months and than I was walking away. My family needs me. They deserve to have me home. And we're trying to have another baby, so...”

“Another one? Five all together? You're mighty brave. Both of you. Why not go for two? Make it an even half dozen?”

“I don't think my wife would go for that. Unless this one ends up being twins too. If I do take the offer from Nik, I'd be home more. Not so much time out in the field. And let's face it, I'm not getting any younger. My mind may say yes, but my body is very much telling me no. I don't know how much more I can put it through before it just gives out entirely.”

“I keep telling myself...and my wife...that I'm going to give it up,” the other man muses. “I've been saying it every year for the last six. But something always comes up and I just keep hanging in there. My wife's a lot like yours. Stubborn as all hell. Fiery temper. Likes to hold a grudge from time to time. But she keeps me around. Lord knows why. I've put her through a lot. Because of the job,”

“I guess we're both lucky then,” Tyler reasons. “We both managed to find that balance. Between the job and a real life. It's not easy. Far from it. But it's worth it. Every time she smiles at me. Every time my kids hug me or tell me they love me. It makes all the bullshit worth it.”

McMann nods in agreement, slowly sipping his drink. Contemplative now. Eyes dark. Lips set in a thin, firm line.

“We'll find them, mate,” Tyler assures him. “We'll find them, and we'll bring them home.”

“I've been thinking about what you said the other day. When you talked about why you didn't want to be the one to get the kids. About not wanting to have to choose between the two of them. If you knew you could only get one or the other.”

“I never should have said that. I was way out of line. I never...”

“You made a very valid point. As much as it hurt to hear you say it. What if you couldn't get both out at once? What if you knew there'd be no chance of going back to get the other? How would you decide? If you had to pick between your two sons. Your twins. Which one would you pick?”

“I wouldn't,” Tyler's answer comes easily. With absolutely no hesitation. There isn't a scenario that he hasn't run through his mind at least once or twice. A solution that he hasn't come up with. “If it came down to that, I’d make a deal. My life for both of theirs. If something like that were to happen, it would mean that whoever it is, is after me. They don't want my kids. Not really. They just know that taking my kids will bring me to them. I'd give them what they want. Me. As long as it means they let go of my kids.”

“And if they won't? Let them go?”

“Then they better make sure the first bullet is the one that kills me. Because I won't go down easily. I'll do whatever it takes to save my kids. Or my wife. So they better make sure they put me down permanently the first time because I'm going to just keep getting back up.”

McMann nods slowly, considering the words as he swirls the ice within his glass.

“If you're not willing to do that, what the hell are we even doing here, mate? If you're not willing to sacrifice yourself for your kids, so they can live and get home to their mother, why are you even bothering with all of this? You know it's you that they want. They're just using your family to get to you. If it comes down to it, are you willing to give yourself up so your kids will get back to their mom?”

“They have to have a mom to get back to you. That's your job.”

“And I'll do my job. I'll find your wife. I'll get her out of there. But I'm not worried about my end of things. I've got my shit under control. But if you're not willing to give up your life for your kids, this is all for nothing. You don't offer yourself up, they'll kill all of you. You pick one kid over the other and you'll kill yourself in the end. Because you'd never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. So you better be ready for that, mate. To make that choice. Yourself or them. Because it's a damn good possibility that that's going to happen.”

McCann finishes his drink in one large gulp. Coughing as the whisky burns his throat. “And what if you've got a choice to make? When you find my wife? If they want your life for hers? What decision are you making?”

“It's simple,” Tyler says. “I'm going home to my family. And it's not going to be in a body bag.”

The other man blinks at the brutal honesty.

“Let's get one thing straight. I'm here to help you. I'm not here to die for you. For any of you. If it comes down between me and your wife, I'm being a selfish bastard and choosing me. Because I've got my own wife at home. I've got four kids. And I made a promise to all of them that I was coming home. Alive. And no one is going to stop that from happening.”

“Your family gets the money,” McCann reminds him. “If you don't make it, they still get the money. As long as my wife gets out of there.”

“I don't give a shit about the money. Five and a half years ago, when I had a death wish, I would have gladly gone in there and offered myself up for a complete stranger. Back then I wouldn't have given a shit. I was close to putting a bullet in my own head, so it wouldn't have mattered if someone did it for me. But now? I have way too much to lose. People that count on me. Depend on me. And as big of a dick as I sound for saying it, your wife's life is not worth more than mine.”

“I'm counting on you, Rake. I'm counting on you to get her out of there. To make those bastards pay. Don't fuck me over just because all of a sudden you can't take the heat or because you get a little squeamish.”

“I can take the heat. And I don't get squeamish. We're not buddies. We're not partners. So you better watch who you threaten. I'm not scared of you. Or your buddies in the IRA. You asked for my help. I could have easily just told you to fuck off and leave me alone. But I'm here. I'm on your side. And if you're the one that's planning to fuck me over, you better start thinking twice right about now.”

“You don't trust me?”

“I don't trust anyone. It isn't personal. If I find out there's any hidden agenda or something you're not telling me, you better run and hide. Run far. Find the darkest, deepest hidden place you can. I will come for you. If I get to Belfast and this was all some kind of bullshit to get me away from my family...to make me vulnerable...there isn't going to be a place I can't find you.”

McCann smirks. “Now you're threatening me?”

“That's not a threat. That's a promise. Don't fuck me over. I'm warning you right now. Because if I come for you, you better have a goddamn army to help you out. All those stories you've heard? The things I've done? The people I've killed. They're all true. Bigger and better than you have tried to put me down. And I'm still here. So if this is some kind of game...”

“This is all true. Every word of it. The videos you saw. All real. This isn't some kind of ploy to get you into a strange place and catch you off guard. This is exactly what it is. A job. I need your help. No games. No bullshit.”

“Fair enough,” Tyler says, once more leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. Hoping the other man will take the hint and leave him alone.

“You just do your job, Rake. You get my wife out of there and you make those bastards pay. In whatever way you have to. I need you to give me your word. That you won't leave her there. That you won't just drop her off in the middle of nowhere or leave her in the street. At least give me that. At least give me your word that you'll do whatever it takes. That you'll make them pay.”

He sighs and opens his eyes, seeing the hand that is being offered.

“You have my word,” he says, and they shake on it.

*****

While not exactly five star, the hotel in Belfast is a far cry from the one he’d stayed at in Dhaka. Clean. Spacious enough for two queen sized beds. Fresh carpet and paint; no unusual or concerning stains lingering on the walls. No weird smells. No obnoxious noise from the street below. Running water -hot water at that- and a normal shower and tub. A toilet that flushes.

There’s two closets. The first one he uses to stash his clothes and personal effects. The second he uses for the ruck sack filled with weapons; using an abnormally large and powerful combination lock looped through the handles on the doubles door to keep it safe and secure. He removes the holster from his right hip; setting both it and the Glock in the top drawer of the nightstand that separates the two beds.

He hangs the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of the hotel room door, then sets both the locks; deadbolt and flimsy chain. Toes his boots off and leaves them in front of the closet that holds the weapons. The SAT phone he uses to send a message to Nik that he’s arrived and to expect a call soon from her brother, then he places it in the drawer next to the Glock. There’s an unlocked mini bar in the far corner; next to the dresser and the wall mounted TV. Locating the remote, he turns the latter on and selects a local news channel, volume on low as he grabs a travel bottle of scotch from the bar and cracks open the seal. He doesn’t even consider grabbing a glass from the small kitchenette, taking a long pull straight from the bottle as he stands in front of the sliding glass door that leads out onto the small balcony. The room overlooks the downtown area, much cleaner than the market area in Dhaka. Less populated. White mini lights strung up in the trees that line the curbs, shops with illuminated closed signs, flashing neon advertising which bars and restaurants are open to patrons.

His stomach growls. Prompting him to make a mental note to order room service.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he places the bottle of scotch on the floor and his elbows on his knees, running his hands over his weary face, then clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. Contemplating his first moves when the new day breaks. He has to wait for Yaz to get some information; even the smallest tidbit that will send him in the right possible direction. Wandering aimlessly through town will only draw unnecessary attention. People will find who he is and what he’s there for when the time is right.

He opens his eyes, meeting his own reflection in the glass. His beard needs a trim. He already needs to take the clippers to the shortest parts of his hair.

He’ll do that in the morning.

Taking another swig of scotch, he stands up; wincing as his knees crack noisily. He finds his cell phone in the inside pocket of the flack jacket that he’d worn from the airport and now hangs in the unlocked hall closet. Hitting the second number on speed dial as he slides open the patio door and steps outside. The air is crisp and fresh; an unusually cool evening for summer in Ireland, he’d been told by the desk clerk. And he takes a seat on one of the patio chairs just as the call reaches the fourth ring and someone finally answers.

“Hey,” he greets, his heart immediately feeling a hundred pounds lighter at the familiar sounds of his ‘normal’ life in the background; the dog barking, the kids squabbling, the baby giggling and attempting speech.

“Hey,” he can hear the relief in her voice. He knows she’s smiling. “Did you just get in?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“What time is it there?”

“Eight thirty. PM.” He does the math in his head. He’s seven hours ahead. Making it one thirty, her time.

“How was the flight?”

“Long. No issues though. I don’t know who this guy is that Nik knows or what she has on him that he’s so willing to cough up his private jet, but I’m not going to complain.”

‘Maybe they’re friends. Special friends. If you catch my drift.”

He grins. “Maybe. I’m sure she has a lot of special friends.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am. Tired. Sore. Hungry.”

“Well make sure you eat. I know how you get when you start throwing yourself into something. You won’t do anyone any good if you’re trying to run on an empty tank.”

He smirks. “Worrying about me from even thousands of miles away, huh?”

“It’s what I do, Tyler. I worry. I try to take care of you. It would be a lot easier if you weren’t so damn stubborn. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he picks the bottle of scotch up off the ground and takes a swig. “You okay?”

“I guess. As good as I can be. The first couple of days are the worst. But I manage.”

“The kids?”

“They’re doing okay. They get sad and weepy every now and then. Tyler is grumpy as all hell. He is so much like you. He even has the same facial expressions when he’s mad or irritated. I see so much of you in him. Tanner is really stepping in to help him through things. He’s an old soul, that one. He’s just so sensitive and so intuitive. Such a big heart in such a tiny body.”

“Like his mom. All the best stuff he got from you.”

“Oh I don’t know about that. He got some pretty amazing things from you, too.”

He smiles at that. “And Millie?”

“She’s pretty bitchy. I’ve had to send her to her room twice already today. She’s just snapping at everything and taking it out on her brothers. She’s stronger than she looks. She almost beat the living shit out of Tyler because he looked at her the wrong way. And you know how strong and tough he is. Your daughter does not take shit from anyone. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I mean, at least we know she’ll be able to handle herself when she gets older if some asshole tries anything with her. But at the same time, she should not be beating the crap out of her brothers. She even goes after the baby. And all he’s doing is baby things.”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. If she’ll talk to me, that is.”

“She’ll be fine, Tyler. She’ll be happy to hear your voice. She’s already asked about you. Three times. If you’d gotten to Ireland yet and if you’d called to say you were okay. I know she feels bad. For what she said to you. Please don’t let it bother you. She’s a little girl. She just worries about you and misses you. She didn’t mean what she said. Don’t hold it against her.”

“I don’t. I just thought I had a lot of years to go before she said something like that. Like when I started scaring potential boyfriends off. I swear to God, if she brings home some guy with weird hair and tattoos…”

“You basically just described yourself,” his wife laughs.

“You like my hair.”

“I love your hair. You know she’s going to bring someone home that you just despise, right?”

“I’m going to despise all of them. Not just one of them. All of them. None of them will be good enough for her. Not a single damn one.”

“I’m sure someone will come along that you like. Maybe someone like you. A military guy.”

“Uh, yeah, no. That’s definitely not what I want for her.”

“I don’t know, you’re a pretty good catch. And you’re ex military. So…”

“Ex. You hit the nail on the head. Ex. Look what I do now. Is that really what you want for our daughter? This kind of life?”

“I think you’re overreaching. There’s a big difference between her finding a military guy and her finding a mercenary. And where would she ever find one of those?”

“You found me,” he points out.

“Only because I was already in the job. Our paths would never have crossed if I hadn’t had been. I doubt that is going to be a lifestyle that she choice. She’s beautiful and smart and…”

“So are you.”

“…and we’ll do our best to get her on a different path. That’s years away, Tyler. Why stress about it now? And why talk as if this is the worst possible life to have? It isn’t. I know you get down on yourself and you think you’re a failure as a husband and a father. You think that I hate you and that I hate this life. But I’ve never once hated you. Ever. And I don’t hate this life. It’s not my most favourite thing and it’s hard. But I walked into this. Willingly. I fell in love with you. I chose you. And I don’t regret that. So please don’t ever think I do.”

Silence falls between them as he considers her words; the power of them both comforting and overwhelming. And he closes his eyes against the hot, bitter tears that threaten.

“Tyler?”

He clears his throat noisily. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assures her. “I miss you.”

“Already?” he can practically hear the grin on her face. “That was quick.”

“I missed you the second I got on the plane,” he admits.

“I miss you too, baby. It was hard this morning. Waking up and not having you there. With your messy hair and your sleepy little grin. The way you kiss me awake. And the way you do other things to wake me up.”

He grins at that.

“Most of all, I just miss you. I miss your smell. The sound of your voice. Your smile. The way it crinkles the corners of your eyes. I miss all those things.”

He can hear the emotion in her voice; the way it chokes at her. And he can’t hold back the tears any longer; allowing them to flow freely down his cheeks and the sides of his nose.

“Please be safe,” her voice is barely above a whisper. “Because if anything happens to you…”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her, and uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears away. “You know how you said you didn’t trust McCann? That something about him just doesn’t feel right? And I said you were probably just on edge? Well I’m starting to think you’re right.”

The line crackles as she moves the phone from one ear to the other. “What’s happened?”

“Just a conversation we had on the plane. The other day when we first met, he wanted me to be the one that goes for the kids. I told him that I couldn’t do it. That I wouldn’t do it. That I didn’t feel confident that I’d be able to safely get three of us out. One kid was enough in Dhaka. And he was a teenager. Not a little one. I told him that he should be the one to get his kids. That I’d deal with the wife.”

“Makes sense. I mean, they might panic if they saw you. A complete stranger all dressed up like he’s going to war. That would just make things worse if they got scared and freaked out. They won’t do that if it’s their dad.”

“Exactly what I thought. It just makes more sense. I brought up what would happen if I could only get myself and one of them out of there. How would I make that kind of decision? About which kid lives or dies?”

“Tyler…” she sighs. “…don’t do this…”

“He threw it back in my face on the plane. He asked me how I would choose. If it came down to the twins. If I knew I could only get one of them out alive. Which one would I pick?”

“Tyler…”

“I told him I wouldn’t. That I’d make a deal. My life for both of theirs. It’s me someone would want. Not them. They’d just be using the kids to get to me.”

Silence from the other end.

“Esme?”

“I’m here,” the sadness hangs heavily in her voice. “Tyler, why are you…?”

“I would do it. In a heartbeat. Offer myself up for them. For any of my kids. For you.”

“I know. But…”

“It was weird. How he responded to that. Like he wasn’t on the same page. What father wouldn’t do that for their kids? Especially when he knows that he’s the one they want? What father wouldn’t give himself up to save his children? I can’t wrap my head around that. Then he asked me I’d do if it came down to saving myself or his wife.”

“And you said…”

“I told him that her life isn’t worth more than mine. That I have my own wife and my own family and I’m going home to them. And it’s not going to be in a body bag. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a selfish prick now.”

“It’s not selfish. It’s smart. It’s self preservation.”

“There’s something not quite right about this guy. I didn’t like the way he acted when I talked about how he might have to sacrifice himself for his kids. He was reluctant. He wasn’t willing to make that choice. And that’s fucked up. To me, anyways. It should be an easy decision to make. At least in my eyes.”

“Be careful, Tyler. Watch your back. Even more so than you usually do. Something isn’t right here. And I think you’re beginning to think that way too.”

“Yeah…” he finishes off the scotch. “…I am. I miss you,” he says once more. “I miss you so fucking much.”

“I miss you too. Be safe, okay? Come home in one piece.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Go and get something to eat. And try to get some sleep. You’ve got a big job ahead of you. I’m proud of you, just so you know. I’m so proud of you, Tyler. For doing the things you do. For other people. I know it’s not easy on you. But you still do it. You still put people ahead of yourself. Even knowing the consequences. Even knowing the ending might be horrible. You’re the strongest person I know. And the bravest. Whether you want to hear that or not. Whether you want to admit it. Ovi was right. When he said you were brave for rescuing people. You are.”

“I love you,” he manages through another wave of tears. “Just know that I love you. That I always have, I always will.”

“Please don’t talk like that. It sounds so…final.”

“I just want you to hear it. I just want you to remember it. Just in case.”

“I love you too. I’ve loved you right from the beginning. I meant it. When I said it to you on that bridge. I know it was way too soon. It shouldn’t have made any sense. But I meant it. I love you and I can’t wait for you to come home. Please be careful.”

“I will. I’ll call you tomorrow. Hug and kiss the kids for me. Tell them I love them. That I miss them. That I’ll be home soon.”

“I will,” she promises. “And eat, Tyler. Get something in your stomach. And then get some sleep. Or try to at least.”

“I love you,” he says one last time.

“I love you, too. We’ll talk soon.” And with that, she disconnects the call.

Sighing, he places his cell phone on the ground beside the empty bottle of scotch and runs his hands over his face. Unable to shake the feeling that he’s walking straight into hell.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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krreader · 5 years

Text

Monsta X scenario → soulmate!au.

pairing: monsta x x reader fandom: monsta x warnings: soulmate!au ; language genre: angst ;fluff ; crack

a/n: so, this is the person that I’m currently in seoul with, her name is nathalie and you all know her by me mentioning her name so many fucking times, SO HEY BABE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT even tho you probably won’t see this until we’re back, so SURPRISE BITCH ♥

son hyunwoo

You were just enjoying this beautiful, sunny day, eating ice cream and not giving a damn about anything, when suddenly something yanked you back and your ice cream fell from the cone to the ground.

“Nooooooo,” you whined, more focused on the ice cream on the ground than the fact that something had formed on your pinky and kept pulling you back.

You were yanked back, couldn't do anything about it but let fate play out.

Until you were suddenly bumping into a.. very firm chest.

You looked into the eyes of a man who seemed to be as shocked as you were.

“Well.. hi there,” he grinned, “I'm.. Hyunwoo.. your soulmate, I guess.”

You cleared your voice, taking a step back as you watched the red string disappear from your pinkies that appeared once you and your soulmate were close to each other, “Well, Hyunwoo. I'm.. (Y/N) and you owe me ice cream.”

“Is this.. our first date then? As soulmates?”

“Mh, maybe.. depending on what kind of ice cream that you like. You can tell a lot about a person by what sort of ice cream they like, you know?”

Hyunwoo chuckled, “Alright then. Let's get some ice cream.”

shin hoseok

Everyone did this when they were young. When they were around nine or ten, they would gather in a circle, all of them having a random flower in their hand and play the good old soulmate game.

You rip out petal after petal, you start by saying: “Meet me, meet me not,” and if you're lucky enough to ever meet your soulmate in your life, you will know after this game, because it was always, absolutely always right.

However, you had never played this game, because you had seen the effect it had on people when they didn't get the result they wanted.

Most of your friends that were left with 'meet me not' were now unhappily married, single parents, drunks or hating their life, simply because they knew they would never meet their designated other.

However you were becoming older and you still hadn't met anyone close to someone you might call your soulmate and you were beginning to think that you never would.

And the only way to be sure about it was to play that godforsaken game.

“Here we go, then,” you sighed heavily, sitting on the rooftop of the building you were working in, ripping out one petal after the other, starting with meet me, like you were supposed to.

You were slow, with each fallen petal your heart began to speed up and the more petals piled on the floor, the more your hand began to tremble until there were only a handful left on the flower.

“Meet me.. meet me not.. meet me.. meet me not.. meet me..-” you started at the last petal, your heart sinking in your chest and your shoulders dropping as you sadly sad, “Meet me not.”

And as you were too busy staring at the last petal, Shin Hoseok followed a friend of his across the rooftop area with a small smile, “Thank you for having me today. It was a great meeting.”

“Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer? This area is great..”

“Uhm.. no. I need to fly back home tomorrow morning, so I'd better get a good night's rest. But thank you for the offer.”

He would have said yes if picking the petals had ended with meet me.. he would have fallen in love tonight.. you would have.

But you two were robbed.

Robbed by fucking destiny.

lee minhyuk

Sometimes you hated the voice in your head.

Mostly when it, or you, decided to laugh.

Well, just sometimes, though. Because it sounded so.. horrible.

Like a dolphin.. but dying?

“Hey, are you okay?” your friend asked with worry on his face when you rubbed your temples.

“Yeah, sorry.. it's just.. the voice.. my soulmate.. his laugh can be very annoying..”

“What does it sound like?”

“It's like a dying dolphin? But.. he's kind of laughing.”

“Sounds like you, hyung,” Jooheon laughed, nudging Minhyuk's side when they had overheard your conversation with your friend at the coffee shop.

Jooheon went up ahead to order, but Minhyuk kept staring at you.

“Can you say fuck for me?”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows. Deeply. Was this man okay? Mentally?

“Please.. I know it sounds weird, but.. can you please do it?”

Your friend just shrugged, you were confused as hell, but you said: “Fuck?”

“Oh my god, it's you!”

Should you be worried that he realized you were his soulmate because you said a swear word? Probably.

“You're the guy with the dying dolphin laugh?”

“I don't laugh like that. Well.. only sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little, a bit overwhelmed right now, “Only sometimes.”

yoo kihyun

You were both too busy being on your phones to notice that you were about to walk into each other.

You were texting a friend of yours, asking her for directions to the restaurant you wanted to meet at because you were a little lost, he was texting his members, asking them if anyone wanted anything from the grocery store he was walking towards.

And then BOOM.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Shit, I'm..-” but just as you wanted to finish your sentence, both of you started to feel pain in your shoulders.

You in your left one, him in his right shoulder.

He tried to tell himself it was because of practice, but then you pulled down your blouse a little and you saw..

“Kihyun? Is.. is that you?”

And he immediately pulled down his own shirt, only to find: “(Y/N).. is that yours?”

Both of you stared at each other for a good amount of time before you both let out a laugh.

“Well, fuck.. wouldn't have thought to run into my soulmate today. Literally.”

Kihyun chuckled now and nodded, “If I had known I would have dressed up and not worn Adidas sweatpants and a shirt with a stain.”

“It has its charm,” you grinned.

chae hyungwon

Hyungwon had always worn your name on his wrist proudly.

Other idols were trying to cover it up, but he didn't give a shit. He was one of the few who was trying to find you, no matter who you were.

And thankfully so.

Because that's how you found him.

“How do you know it's him? I'm sure there's a lot of Hyungwon's out there with your name on their wrists, doesn't mean it's you,” your mother tried to reason when you walked out of the house with a suitcase.

“I won't know until I try, mom.”

And you were willing to try.

So you booked the first flight to Seoul that was available, looked up the address for their company and then you walked inside, smiling at the girl at the reception and showing her your wrist.

“I'm here for Hyungwon? Chae Hyungwon?”

You thought she'd be happy. Or at least smile. But she looked unimpressed.

“You and the last five girls that came here with that tattoo.”

“There.. were others?”

“Yes. And they all turned out to be the wrong girl, so don't get your hopes up.”

But she brought you to a meeting room anyways.

And then you waited, anxiously, your mother's words echoing in your ears now that you knew there were others before you.

But when Hyungwon finally entered the room, you both knew that this was it.

He knew that you were the real (Y/N). He could feel it. You could feel it.

“Want me to get rid of her?” his manager whispered in his ear.

“No,” Hyungwon smiled, “I found her.”

lee jooheon

Some people would say that you were the luckiest girl alive, but you didn't see it that way.

You were fortunate enough to have Lee Jooheon as your soulmate.

Yes, Monsta X’s rapper Lee Jooheon.

And because everything that your soulmate ever recorded, be it voice messages, videos, audio in general.. it would all get sent to you.

So, as a Monsta X fan, you were lucky, because you got to hear what he was working on all the time. But as a soulmate, you weren't so lucky.

Because you knew that you couldn't reach him.

Well, sure, you could send voice messages and videos and he'd see it, but you and him both knew that this wouldn't work out because of who he was and who you were.

Your life's weren't compatible, even if you being soulmates said otherwise.

So each time your phone buzzed with another notification of him having recorded something new, you opened it with a sad smile, listening to the newest amazing thing that he had come up with.

And as Jooheon was writing his verses, he received a voice message that you must have sent to a friend.

“I wish we were different, you know? I just wish he'd be normal like me or I was talented like him so that I could be with him.. but it will never work out. And I'm just.. so proud of him.. of who he is and who he will become.. but at the same time I'd just wish he wasn't like this..”

Yeah.. so did he.

im changkyun

You had seen countless of movies where this shit happens.

Where the same day repeats over and over again. One time it was a horror movie and the guy kept reliving the day that he died, but kept dying differently. That one was bad.

But this was different, because this was what everyone went through once they were close to their soulmate.

Usually people were excited, really.

But you were fucking tired of it, because of all the places that you had to find your soulmate, it was the fucking airport.

“Listen to me,” you started, staring at the security guard angrily, “I've been trying to find my stupid soulmate for at least four weeks now, I know you don't remember me, but I remember you, George. I fucking remember you. So let me through, because this is the only part that I haven't looked for him and he has to be in there.”

“I'm sorry, Miss, but I can't let you through unless you have a boarding pass.”

“Fine.. you know what? I'll buy one. I'll buy one right now.”

You were tired of this bullshit, you just wanted to return to your normal life and not see these asshole airport people that were rude and hated their jobs.

So you bought the cheapest flight ticket they had to offer and then checked in, forcing yourself not to flip George off.

And as you were already through, you could see someone walk out of the Terminal out of the corner of your eye that was clearly in a hurry.

He saw you, then you saw him and you both immediately knew it.

“Ah fucking hell, where have you been, I was..-” but just as you wanted to turn back around, George shook his head.

“You can't go out this way.”

“George.. I am about to get really, really, really angry.”

“You need to go all the way around to get back out.”

Your soulmate better be worth all the trouble.

But when you looked back at him, Changkyun grinned at you sweetly and.. well.. he might be.

#monsta x reaction #monsta x imagine #monsta x #kpop reaction #kpop imagine #reader #requests

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jaa1682-27 · 4 years

Text

Violent Delights

Summary: Kia Karga, Greef’s daughter, joins Mando on a mission.

AN: First time posting a fic on Tumblr. This is also posted on my Wattpad as jaa1682. But since I am a full time Tumblr user now, might as well post them here!!

Also, I do NOT own this GIF!!!!

Chapter 1

“Mommy! Mommy!” I screamed as my father rushed me away from the burning building that was once our home. Dead bodies laid around us as my father ran through some rubble. I thrashed around in his arms as he handed me off to a woman with pale skin, shaggy blond hair, and a worn mechanic’s uniform.

“Get her to safety, NOW!” my father barked as he pulled a blaster out of its holster.

“But, Greef-“

“NOW, Rhonona!”

Rhonona nodded and ran into a shop nearby, trying her best to shield me from debris caused by a nearby explosion.

Later that night, I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I tossed and turned as images of my mother, gently patting my head before locking me away in my father’s weapon closet or being dragged away by Stormtroopers, looped behind my eyes. I clutched the R2-D2 doll that my mother gave me.

Soon, a door closed and I heard voices. I recognized them as Rhonona and my father. I rustled further underneath the covers.

“You had to know this was coming, Greef,” Rhonona said aloud.

My father sighed. “I thought we would have longer, but all good things come to an end.”

“I suppose they do.”

There was a pause. “What are you going to do about your daughter?”

My father sighed. “No one but you knows the truth…I plan to keep it that way.”

I flinched at the sound of a blaster being loaded, but there was no sound that it had gone off, just silence.

“There is no need for that, Greef. I owe you my life…and my silence. Besides, I made a pledge and vowed to keep it. I promise not to tell anyone about her…or her mother. The girl has already suffered enough.”

I heard my father shuffled and put the blaster back in its holster. “We were ambushed today, Rhonona, and by the Imperial forces no less. I’m gonna have to get to the bottom of this. Someone is gonna pay for the death of my wife.”

I heard footsteps grow distant, and then they stopped. Rhonona asked, “Do you really think she’s dead?”

There was a pause.

“She’s dead to me,” my father stated before he left.

Xxx

“Kia, it’s a speeder, not a war ship. I don’t know why you made so many modifications,” Rhonona said to me as she inspected my work.

My father was none other than Greef Carga, the head of the Bounty Hunters Guild on the planet of Navarro. I had been raised in the Guild most of my life, learning and training from various fighters and pilots in the Galaxy that passed through. Rhonona Kleegan was an old friend of my late mother’s and ran her own workshop near the Guild.

Even though, she used many repair droids, she still liked to employ live beings in the shop, mainly so she have someone to talk to and some people were still sketchy about droids working on their equipment. She and my father had realized my knack for tinkering with things when I was younger, and now at 28 years old, I was one of her best mechanics, fixing up things in her shop when I wasn’t on a job.

My father still hadn’t trusted me to handle a job on my own, so I was often hired to be a part of someone’s crew; as a mechanic, co-pilot, or sometimes just as backup. The cuts I earned were very small, not even enough for a cup of soup sometimes, but my father always chalked it up to me learning experience as well as the trust of the other members.

“It may be a speeder to you, Rhonona, but to Tee-ho, it’ll be the best present ever. He barely gets around on that thing he calls a speeder now,” I grumbled as I added new thrusters. Tee-ho and his wife, Primora, were also mechanics in Rhonona’s shop and two of my oldest and dearest friends. They were expecting their first child soon, and had gone off to make preparations for its arrival.

“How fast will it go?” she asked. Several repair droids rustled around her.

I glanced at her from underneath the bike. “Normal speed bikes travel up to 100 kilometers every 15 seconds. With my modifications, I’m guessing…probably 150 kilometers in 10.”

Rhonona laughed as I proceeded to resume my work. “You and your ‘modifications’. Everything doesn’t have to be improved all the time.”

I countered, “Just because something works, doesn’t mean it can’t be improved. Plus, I keep my modifications small. Just enough to make things easier or more efficient, but just on the line of the Republic’s modifications limits…which are stupid by the way.”

There was shuffling behind me and footsteps entered the room. “You grew up in the Outer Rim; why do you care about what the Republic does?” Primora asked as she entered with Tee-ho trailing behind. I quickly slid out from under the bike and proceeded to inch it behind Rhonona’s ship so he wouldn’t see it.

Primora was a few years older than me, and had pale skin, a round face, and big green eyes. Tee-ho had olive skin, a pointed nose, and dark curly head around his head. Tee-ho was also a large man, his hulking body towering over tiny Primora. I often wondered how Primora managed to stay upright with her large belly protruding out so much.

“I care because our clients care; at least, the ones that are allowed in the Inner Rim. And we know those are best paying ones,” I retorted once I safely hid the bike.

“She’s right. I earned 6,000 credits last week when I fixed up a client’s fuel tank and cleaned out the residue off of his ship. Turns out that guy’s brother is some Republic official,” Tee-ho added, coming to my defense.

“What modifications did you add?” I asked as I took a swig of water from my canteen.

“None. He didn’t need any,” Rhonona added.

“That’s bullshit. I saw the ship he came in. Lucky that piece of junk managed to land at all without falling into a million pieces. If I had done it, he would have had to pay me 12,000 credits just on upgrades and modifications alone…plus a set of new landing gear for an extra 500 credits,” I said aloud, calculating the costs of everything in my head.

“What if he didn’t have the credits to pay?” Primora asked me as she sat down on a nearby couch at the edge of the workshop.

“Then, I would take it all back…I probably would let him keep the landing gear, though. You know, as a way to remember me,” I answered with a sly smile.

“Hey, Kia.” Tee-ho called out for me across the workshop and he was already in position on our fighting mat. Tee-ho wasn’t a Guild member, but he was muscular and strong. He offered to start sparring with me a few years ago so that I could sharpen my fighting skills.

Rhonona had a droid help her down from the windows of the ship and programmed it to finish her work as she joined Primora on the couch.

“10 credits on Tee-ho,” Rhonona said to Primora as I took off my gloves and work vest, leaving me in a white undershirt and slim black cargo pants. I tied my short dark hair into a messy ponytail before I joined Tee-ho on the mat.

“5 credits on Kia, 5 credits on Tee-ho,” she answered.

“I only get 5?”

Primora shrugged, “I don’t doubt you, not for a second…but he is my husband so…”

“…And he’s bigger than you,” Rhonona added with a smirk.

“Thanks for the confidence,” I murmured. I knew that they weren’t being malicious about it; it was the truth. Tee-ho was twice my size and his arm muscles were bigger than my head. However, he never tried to use too much of his strength when we sparred; only enough to bruise me or throw me onto my back.

Tee-ho and I faced each other on the mat and then took fighting stances. Then, Tee-ho reached for me but I dodged his attack. He tried to strike another blow, but I dodged that too. In my training, one of the key things to remember was to keep moving, and stay on defense until you could land an offensive move.

I kept dodging his movements, intending to just tire him out. His movements began to slow and I started landing soft punches to his abdomen and chest, throwing him back a bit. Then, I sent a swift kick to his abdomen, causing him to fall on his back. He hit the mat with a loud smack, and I kissed my arms in victory, my chest swelled with pride. Rhonona and Primora congratulated me from the couch.

“Who’s worth 5 credits now?” I asked them, sticking out my tongue.

Suddenly, in less than a second, my feet were kicked out from under me and I was on my back as well. I groaned once I hit the mat.

“You are,” Tee-ho said with a laugh.

“Shit,” I groaned.

A pair of worn, brown came into my eyeline, despite them being upside down. I looked up to see the Mandalorian, my most recurring employer for the past 1 and a half, looking down at me, his shiny helmet tilted to the side.

“Never turn your back on your enemy…unless they’re already dead,” his modulated voice advised.

I closed my eyes and nodded before wiping my sweaty forehead with my arm. “Good to know.”

Tee-ho helped me to my feet and we nodded at each other before he went off to the showers in the back of the shop. I grabbed a stained rag to wipe my face. “What can I do for you, Mando?” I asked, calling him by his nickname.

He nodded for me to walk to a nearby corner, out of earshot of the others. “Picked up a new job.”

“Yeah, I got that,” I said as I took a swig of water from my canteen.

“My ship sustained some damage from the last job and it needs repairs. Your modifications…are very hard to repair.”

“Actually, they’re not if you know what to look for. But, I’m guessing, knowing you, that if you needed the ship repaired you would’ve done it yourself or brought it in. So…are you asking me to join you on this job?” I asked as I straightened up.

“Yes. However, I cannot pay you this time.”

I looked at him. Surprisingly, Mando was one of my most generous employers, often giving me almost double my pay of most of my other jobs. I chalked it up to the many repairs and modifications that I had done to his ship. Considering it was such a rare and out of date model, it was not an easy ship to upkeep either. On top of that, on the few times he had been too injured from a fight or scuffle, it was up to me to fly us out of a few unpleasant or sometimes literally, sticky situations.

“The Client is only offering direct commission and payment will be in Beskar,” He clarified.

In my readings, I had learned that Mandalorian’s valued Beskar very highly. No wonder he wanted to take this job, and pull it off; he would no doubt be earning a lot of Beskar, which was already rare to find anyways.

I shrugged, “Fine, but in lieu of payment, I’m joining you on the job.”

Mando sighed, “I don’t think-“

I held up a hand to stop him. “I can’t stay on the ship on every job, Mando. I need this. If we complete this job, I might be able to finally go out on my own. Just let me have this one.”

Another sigh, the defeated one I had learned to recognize after nearly 18 months of being in his presence. “Fine. Just don’t get in the way.”

I smiled. “Of course not. I’ll be quiet like a shadow-“

I ran into a half-hidden toolbox on a nearby shelf, causing a bunch of tools to fall out onto the floor very loudly.

The others, as well as some of the droids, turned to look in my direction. Mando shook his head at me and then said, “Meet me at the Crest in 15 minutes.”

I nodded as I tried to overcome my embarrassment. “Will do.”

#the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #greef karga #black female #original female character

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