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#THIS IS JUST THE START OF ADULT NONSENSE AND ALL THE BAGGAGE THEY CARRY AROUND
flyingkiki · 2 years
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We Played Dangerously (4/?)
Because there is so much history to unpack between these two. I love layering on history and drama very thick.
So here is some adult nonsense for our favorite TimRae birbs. Enjoy, my loves, the complicated storm that lies up ahead. This is just the beginning. If you're confused over what happened, oh boy, you just wait. These two are some work.
Chapter 3 is Here.
~~~~~~
Past, Titan’s Tower
Her phone rang incessantly, cutting through the stillness and quiet of her room and waking her up with a jolt. It was her personal line, the encrypted one. Raven blinked and stared at her dark ceiling, trying to see through the cloud of sleep that still blurred her sight. She listened to the crescendo of her phone’s ringing, wondering if she should answer or not.
The ringing stopped just as she was about to roll over and Raven paused. She lolled her head towards her bedside table and stared as the light of her phone’s screen died. Perhaps she could fall back to sleep.
Her phone suddenly vibrated again before ringing loudly, its melodic tones dancing through the air and forcing her to wake up. Sighing loudly, Raven rolled over and clumsily grabbed her phone, nearly knocking over her tea cup and dropping her phone.
“What?” she croaked into her phone, sinking into her pillows sleepily.
She heard the distant sound of someone breathing on the other end. Had it been anyone else, she’d have half the mind to just end the call and go back to sleep. Instead she blinked and stared blankly up at her ceiling waiting for a response.
“This better be good. It’s 3 in the morning,” she grumbled.
“Hey. What are you wearing?”
Raven woke up, immediately. She felt her nerves tingle and her fingers tightened around her phone as she frowned angrily at her ceiling. “Are you fucking kidding me, Tim?” she hissed.
“What are you wearing, Raven?” The voice hummed.
There was a breathy intake of breath and Raven could practically hear Tim smile into his phone. “It’s 3 in the morning. I am not having phone sex with you. Go to sleep or jerk off, I'm going back to sleep, asshole,"
“Are you angry?”
“No shit, genius,” Raven frowned into her phone, rolling over to her side as the last dredges of sleep seemed to slowly dissipate. What a fucking asshole, this was the last time, she thought angrily. “You’re gone for over a month, you leave the team without even a word, and now you call for phone sex? Are you fucking out of your mind? Don’t you have someone better to call for phone sex instead of me at 3 in the morning?”
“Raven —”
“No. This team is hanging on by a thread, Tim. Connor and Cassie had a fight and it’s been affecting the whole team. Rose and I have been putting out fires left and right. I swear, we’re at our wit’s end. You better hurry up and get your ass back to the tower,” said Raven, glaring darkly at her ceiling.
Raven listened to his soft breathing as he seemed to process her rant. She heard him take a long intake of breath. “I’m sorry,”
They plunged into silence as his words seemed to crawl under her skin and settle low in her stomach. His voice was soft as it carried through her phone. She knew Tim. His voice carried a lot of weight. “Tim,”
“I’ll be back at the Tower in two days. Batman and I finished the mission. I’m sorry I didn’t give you guys any heads up. It was strictly covert. I’ll tell you more about it once I’m back at the Tower,” Tim explained over the phone. Raven listened to his intake of breath. “Just need to recover from the gunshot wound so I can be a bit more mobile and --”
“You got shot?” Raven frowned.
“Err, yeah. GSW, left thigh. Still need to fish out the bullet. Sprained left ankle too and may or may not have a bruised rib, er, ribs?”
Raven finally heard the little slur in his voice and just the hint of strain and tiredness. Even if the world would be going up in flames and was at the brink of exploding, Tim rarely showed any signs of slowing down. Self-preservation be damned. “Are you high on painkillers?”
“May or may not have double dosed on morphine to make this call before I fish out this bullet,”
“You took morphine and wanted phone sex before treating your GSW?” Raven repeated, sounding incredulous. She heard him snort softly. “You should go to the Cave,” frowned Raven, rolling over on her bed and slowly sitting up to move out of her bed.
“Nothing I can’t handle on my own,” Tim waved her off, voice dismissive.
Raven rolled her eyes as she sat up and planted her feet firmly on her carpeted floor. “God you're stubborn,” she muttered into her phone, listening to his breathing. “Knowing you, you’re haphazardly bleeding out on your couch,”
“Bed and not bleeding out, I appreciate your confidence,”
“Shut up, I’m coming over,” she snapped. Not bothering to change into anything else, she easily opened a portal - the location of Tim’s apartment imprinted into memory. She stepped into Tim’s dark living room and her knee knocked into his coffee table, a few coffee mugs rattled noisily. She cursed softly under her breath as pain radiated from her knee up to her leg.
“Raven?”
Tim’s voice carried through his dark apartment and echoed through her phone, still on the line with her. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness, Raven sighed and unconsciously steeled her nerves as she walked through the apartment. She ended their call as she walked down the dark hallways and finally stepped into the familiar threshold of his bedroom, lights barely lit and she regarded his form from where he sat on the edge of his bed surrounded by medical equipment.
“Heeey,”
Tim offered her a tired, tentative smile and she did not miss how his eyes swept over her form as she stood in his doorway. She ignored the jump of his emotions as they stared at each other, a first in over a month, and she pointedly ignored how her chest warmed at his familiar presence and interest in her.
“You look like shit,” she said, brushing aside the soft tingle of emotions that burned under her skin and walked into his room. She watched him drop the bloodied forceps next to some of the other medical equipment he had laid out on a towel. His Red Robin uniform was strewn across the floor and he sat in his underwear in front of her, bruised and looking worse for wear.
“Thank you. You look absolutely lovely in that shirt,” Tim threw her another bemused grin before adjusting the tourniquet around his leg and applying pressure to the bulletwound on his thigh.
Raven rolled her eyes and stood next to him, briefly glancing at her oversized shirt. It was Tim’s very old Gotham Academy PE uniform. It was oversized, frayed, and terribly comfortable. It stopped barely below her butt, brushing the tops of her thighs as she moved. She caught Tim’s interested stare at her thighs.
“You should be at the cave and have Alfred patch you up, you look like you can barely stay awake,” she said, annoyed to see Tim’s all too familiar stubbornness come through. She looked at his poor choice of lighting, the bedside and study lamps offering not the best light support for fishing out a bullet from his thigh. “You could have at least turned on the main lights,”
“It’s just a bullet wound, Raven. And I really don’t want the demon brat up my ass right now. My nerves’ been frayed for over a month working with the little shit, already. I’d like some peace and quiet, for once,” Tim replied, voice laced with hints of venom. Raven sobered up. Since the timestream incident a few years ago, Tim’s relationship with his family still remained somewhat strained. She knew that Bruce was trying to mend the rift between the family, especially with Tim. But she knew well that some wounds ran incredibly deep and required more time to heal. She understood Tim’s discomfort and the strain it placed on his overall being. Over the years, Tim had turned, what was the word? Broodier? Just a hint of darker since the timestream incident and his Red Robin shift. With his emotions darker and tumultuous, Raven had unconsciously drawn herself closer to him without her knowledge.
She sighed as she watched Tim return to work on his wound, the mood in the room shifting and signaling an end to that conversation. “Let me do it,” she said softly, her hands gently brushing away Tim’s as he picked up the forceps again. Making room next to him, she sat down and quietly disinfected her hands and pulled on a pair of gloves. “I’ll need to remove the bullet first before I’ll heal you,” she said. “I take it you’re doped up enough from how you've been digging through that hole in your thigh as if you're looking for gold?”
Tim winced and leaned back with a soft huff of laughter, he gave her a little more room to lean over his wounded leg. He shot her pained grin. “Enough to call you at 3 in the morning for phone sex,”
Raven rolled her eyes at the sight of his grin, watching him carefully lean back. "You're terrible,"
"You know it," Tim grinned and leaned in just a little into her space, breath fanning over her cheek.
Raven hummed and proceeded to fully ignore him as she began working on his thigh. She ignored his pained grunt as she carefully pulled out the bullet from his thigh and dropped it into the ready steel kidney tray. It clattered into the container noisily. She looked up at his pained expression and eyed him curiously as she pressed some gauze firmly into his wound to stop the bleeding. "Any other bullet wounds? Or things that need stitching?"
Under the muted lights, Tim looked worse for wear. A large bruise blossoming on his right cheek, his chest looked terribly discolored from fresh and old bruises, a few cuts looked like they needed attention too. But tending to those wounds didn't seem necessary since she'd heal him shortly, she thought. She listened as he groaned in pain and tried to sit upright. "All good, Nurse Raven. Should have come in a nurse’s uniform tho,"
Raven rolled her eyes at the teasing lilt in his voice. Pulling off her gloves, she gently placed her hands on his side and upper thigh and felt the familiar muscles contract under her cool fingertips. Inhaling softly, concentrated on his injuries and allowed her powers to flow from her core and seep through her fingertips and into Tim’s body. Depending on the injuries, healing someone always was a different experience. She felt the familiar warmth of her powers seeping into Tim’s body, a warmth she had grown long accustomed with. Her magic wrapped around his injuries, strained muscle, and wounds, dragging them out of his body, along with the last dregs of drugs and medicine, ridding Tim from all of his injuries within minutes. Tim’s abdomen contracted under her fingertips. Her skin tingled as his injuries coursed through her.
Her head throbbed painfully and for a moment, it felt like the world shifted as her magic returned to her, having completed its healing intent. She processed his injuries, seemingly trying to sanitize her own body from his injuries she dragged back into her. She inhaled softly, sharply aware of Tim’s intense stare as she tried to come to. Drawing her hands away from his skin, she inhaled softly and opened her eyes. “All done,” she announced.
Raven blinked and absently stared at Tim’s Red Robin costume on the floor as she tried to center herself, while staying keenly aware of Tim’s stare as he watched her every move. Healing Tim had always that effect on her, the familiarity of his energy seeping into her much too closely for her liking. Her nerves tingle and she shivered involuntarily. She felt his hand gently around her forearm, jolting her out of her thoughts. “You good?” Tim asked gently, aware how much of a toll it took for her to heal someone. He eyed her in concern. “You didn’t need to do that, Raven,”
Raven looked up, catching the concern in Tim’s eyes. Maneuvering her hand in his grip, she touched his forearm and felt his pulse faintly under her fingertips. Smiling softly and tilting her head, she met his concerned stare. "I know. I wanted to," she said and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
Pulling away, she turned to stand and nudged his leg with her knee. "Go take a shower, you stink. I'll take care of this," she said while picking up the medical tools on his bed and avoiding his stare.
She watched him stand up and pause next to her, eyeing her as if he was weighing out what he wanted to say next. “You won’t join?” he asked tentatively, there was a softness in his voice but the teasing lilt covered the unsure waver in his voice. Despite everything between them, the confidence and secrecy, there was a hint of uncertainty that always peeked through.
Raven weighed her options, but ultimately decided against it, ignoring the warm tingle that ran down her back. “Tempting, but no,” she threw him an amused smile over her shoulder and wrapped all supplies in the bloodied towel. “I’m too tired,”
Tim cleared his throat and nodded. There was a fleeting emotion that flickered in his eyes as he stared at her briefly, before nodding again. “Right,” he said and quietly walked towards his bathroom.
Raven picked up all the supplies wrapped up in the towel with one hand and grabbed the kidney bowl with the bullet with her other hand. She listened as the bullet rattled noisily in the bowl as she silently padded through Tim’s apartment, heading towards the medical room on the third floor. She knew Tim’s apartment by heart, countless visits had her well acquainted with most of the rooms and their functions. None of the other Titans knew this of course. Or the Batfamily.
Entering the small medical room, Raven set to work cleaning the supplies and disposing the used gloves and gauzes into the biohazards bin. She meticulously cleaned out the supplies before setting everything into their designated sterilization chamber. Picking up the bloodied towel she quietly headed to the first floor into Tim’s laundry area and quickly ran a wash for the towel to get the blood stains out. It would be a waste to ruin a perfectly good towel that probably cost more than one of her civilian outfits. She silently threw in the towel and dialied in the right settings for the wash. As she pulled out the detergent, pine forest - tough on stains and gentle on clothes, it caught her by surprise how domesticated and normal this all was.
It struck her and her heart stuttered at the image of domesticity.
The laundry machine whirred to life and she momentarily watched the lone towel tumble in the machine. She ignored the inexplicable tightness that crossed her chest and Raven hugged herself briefly. How odd.
Leaving the laundry area, Raven contemplated what she should do next as she stood in the middle of Tim’s dark hallway. In the distance she could no longer hear the sounds of Tim’s shower, signaling he was probably done showering — or he had slipped and died in the shower while stepping out. Sighing softly, she decided that perhaps she could check on him before heading back to the tower. Oh the excuses she liked to make, she thought to herself.
She found Tim sitting on his side of the bed, in a pair of fresh Green Arrow underwear and leaning against his headboard, busy looking through his tablet. Sensing her step in, Tim looked up from whatever he was reading and offered her a tired smile. “Hey,”
Raven smiled. “Hey,” she said and eyed him curiously. “Feel better?”
Tim chuckled and carefully placed his tablet on his bedside table and regarded her with a smile. “Much better. It’s like I never got shot,” he blinked and his lips curled further into a smile. “Or broke a few ribs,”
Raven released a soft huff of laughter. She pushed herself away from the doorframe. “Seeing that you’re no longer dying, I’ll go back to the tower,” she said.
Tim looked confused. “You won’t stay?”
Raven frowned and eyed him incredulously. "It’s almost dawn. People will wonder where I am,"
Tim shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly not taking her answer. "We'll figure out an excuse. We always do," he told her and she watched that smile blossom on his lips that always seemed to disarm her. Didn’t she say that she needed to go back to the Tower?
"Stay? I know you're tired, Raven,"
She was. Healing always drained her and if she did get back to the tower she'd be more tired from traveling through her portal. She'd sleep through the morning and explaining to the rest of the team why she was so tired was not something she was up to. Sighing, her shoulders sagged in defeat and she allowed her body to be lulled into the familiarity of Tim’s warm presence.
Ah, the excuses she liked to pull give herself.
Tim looked triumphant as she walked into his room and silently slipped into the opposite side of his bed. She wordlessly sunk into his bed, keeping her gaze steady on him as she slid under his ridiculously comfortable sheets and settling into bed. Her body sank into the familiar softness of his bed, bones and muscles immediately relaxing. She watched Tim settle in next to her, their proximity enveloping her in a warmth that made her belly tingle and her body unconsciously curl closer to him.
She watched Tim turn off the lights, engulfing them in complete darkness. She listened to his breathing, soft and steady, next to her. His warmth and smell wrapped around her, lulling her softly to sleep. She listened as Tim inhaled softly, she could see his chest rise in the shadows of his bedroom and she watched entranced, her own senses tingling in anticipation and sleep.
Raven knew Tim was watching her as his heartbeat and breathing remained steady. She listened as Tim turned to his side, drawing himself just a little bit closer to her. His warmth seeped into her and she unconsciously leaned in, chasing his familiar warmth and presence.
"Come here," he whispered, breath tickling her nose. A large, calloused hand wrapped around her forearm and very gently pulled her towards him. She allowed him to drape her over his chest and she automatically sunk into him, pressing herself into his body and draping her arm across his chest.
She felt Tim shift against her, gently arrange them more comfortably, his large hand sliding down her back and resting comfortably against her. Her cheek pressed into Tim’s chest, and she silently listened to his muted heartbeat and allowed the steady rise and fall of his chest to calm her tingling nerves.
Legs slid into each other, tangling together, into a mess of limbs a motion practiced and familiar. As stillness settled around them, Raven felt the rest of the world melt away from them. She knew Tim was still awake, fingers lightly pressing into her skin and his unsettled thoughts boring under her skin.
Despite the quiet, Raven lay awake listening to the unheard noise that settled around them. Her emotions took a leap and her throat tighten, the distant thoughts of the Tower and the world outside of their little space gnawing at her.
She felt Tim shift under her, still awake and fingers tracing unknown patterns into her hip. Tim’s presence was warm and familiar — his emotions, thoughts, and aura she had since memorized over time, seemingly burned under her skin.
Pressed into him, breath fanning over her cheek, this silence moment felt terribly intimate. In the darkness, she could see the outline of Tim’s face inclined towards her. She could feel his gaze on her, thoughts running through his mind at a pace usual to Tim fashion. It surprised her (scared her) how well she knew this.
It felt intimate, it was intimate, being here practically enveloped in everything that was Tim. An inexplicable tightness fanned across her chest and her breath caught her throat as the stillness of the moment wrapped around them. Stray thoughts haunted her, gnawing at her stomach and tightening at her chest. She wondered if she should have just gone home. The world outside seemed to mock her.
“Go to sleep,” Tim whispered and he suddenly shifted them, his body curling around her and tucking her into his side. Arms wrapped around her tightly, and Raven felt like she was swallowed whole by his familiar warmth.
She released the breath she was holding, emotions practically buzzing under her skin. Closing her eyes, Raven willed herself not to overthink and allowed Tim’s breathing to lull her to sleep. She pointedly ignored the mess of emotions that mockingly gnawed at her skin.
“Sleep,” whispered Tim, fingers pressing into her hip and legs wrapping around hers just a little tighter.
“Good night,” Raven mumbled, her face pressed into his chest and she allowed sleep to slowly drag her into darkness. The world slipped away, momentarily.
She woke up hours later, her bones less tired and heavy, alone in bed. The sun was shining through the gaps of Tim’s curtains, a mocking reminder that she had slept through the hour she had promised herself she’d return to the tower. Laying on her side, Raven blinked away the last dredges of sleep and blankly stared at the empty space next to her. Funny, she barely noticed Tim slipping out of bed. Then again, when they shared a bed she always found herself sleeping more soundly.
Sighing softly, she quietly sat up and reached for her phone on the nightstand next to her, quickly sending a text message to Cassie that she’d be gone for the rest of the day — ‘Personal errands in the city. Went out early.’
No use trying to sneak back to the tower when she already missed most of the morning.
Silently walking out of Tim’s bedroom, she heard him move around in his kitchen. She could smell fresh coffee wafting through the air and she silently wondered how long he had been up.
She stepped into his kitchen and watched a shirtless Tim hunched over his laptop by the kitchen island, deeply engrossed with whatever he was working on. Raven always found Tim’s kitchen ridiculously large for someone who barely was at home (or cooked), with a sprawling kitchen island and modern black granite aesthetic. But then again, if you’re a billionaire, you could do anything with your money. Case in point, ridiculously large modern kitchen.
“Hey,” Tim finally took notice of her, looking over his shoulder and blue eyes brightening slightly at the sight of her standing in the kitchen entrance. “You’re awake,”
Raven hummed, ignoring the little jump in her chest and she tilted her head in amusement. “You’re awake too,”
The corner of Tim’s lips curled up at the lilt in her voice. “Woke up a little while ago, I figured I didn’t want to wake you while I worked,”
Raven blinked and eyed his laptop briefly before turning back to him. “Work?”
Tim shrugged and closed his laptop. “Budget season, just wanted to review a few plans in time for Monday,”
Raven hummed, throwing him an amused look before walking into the kitchen. “How exciting,” she drawled. She walked over the kitchen counter and grabbed one of the spare mugs and started prepping her tea. Thankfully Tim had decided to stock up on some of her tea blends over the course of her visits.
The familiar scent of chamomile and lavender filled the air and Raven turned around to casually lean against the kitchen counter, clutching her steaming mug, and catching Tim staring at her bemusedly.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head curiously and catching his interest in her. Tim had long stopped working and his excel sheets were abandoned.
“Nothing,” Tim chuckled and shook his head, long hair flying into his eyes. Raven thought his long hair suited him. “It’s been a while,” he said, tilting his head thoughtfully to the side and studying her.
Raven rolled her eyes, ignoring the curious tickle of emotions and took a tentative sip from her tea. She watched him studying her and she ignored his interested gaze as he swept his eyes over her form. “That happens when you just go and disappear on us," she said.
Tim winced and at the very least looked slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry. I won't hear the end of this, won't I?"
Raven shrugged, she honestly couldn't care any less. "Probably from Connor or Rose a whole lot, yeah. Heads up,"
Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Raven watched the movement absently. "Sorry," he breathed. Offering an amused smile, he continued. "I guess I owe everyone. Forgive me?"
Raven rolled her eyes at Tim's apologetic stare. Carefully placing her steaming mug on the counter next to her, she leveled him with an unamused stare. "It has been a shitshow since you left, not gonna lie. But we managed. Everyone's just a little dramatic. But you definitely owe a few people on the team," she said.
Tim threw her a small smile. "Anyway I can make it up to you?"
Raven fought the urge to roll her eyes again at that familiar lilt in his voice and the way his lips tugged into a smile. "You can start by making breakfast, I'm hungry."
Tim laughed and straightened on his stool. He picked up his phone that lay on the counter next to him and held it out to her. "Or we could order in from Royal Thai?"
She released a soft amused huff. Tim and his obsession over Thai food. Pushing herself away from the counter she was leaning against, she walked over him and took his phone out his hand with an amused roll of her eyes. "I feel like Pad Thai is more lunch than breakfast." She said while opening UberEats.
Tim laughed and hopped off his stool. Stepping closer to Raven he watched her type in their usual order of Pad thai, fried basil and pork, and pineapple fried rice into the app. "Okay, you're right. We could order in for lunch and we can add the sticky rice you like. How about I make, uh, pancakes? Eggs? French toast? Waffles." Tim blinked and watched her. "What do you like?"
She ignored how her chest fluttered at how he remembered her favorite sticky rice. It was ridiculous how she could get worked up over sticky rice. Absently adding that to their order, she scheduled their meal for a late lunch delivery. Granting Tim would get around making her waffles. 1 pm should be about right. She’d head back to the tower right after. Looking up, she shrugged. "What do you want?"
Raven caught how the corner of his lips curled into that familiar teasing smile and Tim stepped closer, taking his phone out of her hands and carefully stepping into her personal space. "Well, there is something I'm hungry for,"
His voice was teasingly low and Raven immediately felt that all too familiar rush of warm press of emotions run over her skin and seep into her. Forgetting her better judgement, she leaned into his space, catching his hot breath fan over her cheek as her lips curled into smirk. “Oh?” she breathed. “Like?”
Fingers danced over her hip and slid tightly around her waist, digging possessively into her skin and pulling her closer to Tim. She inhaled sharply as her hips bumped into his and her senses hummed at the familiar feel of solid muscle against her. She looked up, eyes dancing teasingly as Tim’s dark gaze studied her face. She stood in anticipation and watched as Tim hovered over her, all but consuming her personal space and pulling her flush against him, fingers digging into her skin. She felt herself drawn automatically to him.
“I have a few things in mind,” he whispered, leaning in and barely brushing his lips against her cheek.
Raven hummed and raised her eyebrow playfully. Somewhere in the back of her mind, far, far in the back of her head , a little voice told her this was a terrible idea. But it’s been over a month since they last talked, and as Tim pressed a warm kiss against her neck and pressed her against the kitchen island, reasoning seemed to fly out the window and she allowed herself to get wrapped up in his presence — again.
Fingers slipped under her shirt easily, rough hands sliding up her waist and drawing up the old shirt painfully slowly. Teeth scrapped against her pulse point and Tim’s leg slipped in between hers, pressing into her. Raven drew in a sharp breath as her pulse stuttered under his subtle ministration. Tim knew how to play her like a finely tuned instrument.
Raven exhaled, not noticing the breath she had been holding. Catching his heady stare, her lips curled into a smile in challenge, catching how he easily goaded her to playing. “Do tell,” she mumbled, draping her arms over his shoulders allowing him better access to the curve of her neck. Heat began to pool low in the pit of her abdomen.
“Well,” Tim breathed against her neck after lavishing her with small kisses. He pulled away, offering just a hint of space between them to look at her with mischievous blue eyes that were dark with a familiar hunger that had her heart stuttering and her stomach knot eagerly. Hands slid down her sides again, resting on the swell of her hip and fingers teasingly hooking into the waistband of her panties.
“There’s you completely naked on my kitchen counter,” he said in a low voice while his fingers slipped into her panties, dragging against the side of her hips and sliding over the swell of her ass. She gasped as Tim cupped her ass and pulled her closer, rolling his hips into hers and Raven was sure her nerves were just about to explode. She whimpered as their hips pressed into each other, in an all too familiar hungry warmth.
Tim smirked down at her, watching her cheeks flush in satisfaction. “I’d think that’s an absolute breakfast feast,” He pressed into her further and Raven involuntarily bucked into him at the feel of his telltale erection pressing into her. She whimpered. Tim pressed a kiss to her cheek, warm breath fanning over her ear that made her slowly delirious. “Don’t you think?”
Her resolve broke and she released a soft moan as fingers pressed into her heated skin, drawing her closer. “Yes, please,”
Tim kissed her, a first in a very long time, and Raven all but melted into him, forgetting her distracting thoughts — that was something future Raven could worry about. But now, now she wanted this — all of this. She all but pressed into him, hungrily kissing him back and chasing after that all too familiar high only Tim could draw out from her.
With a ragged breath, Tim pulled away and hoisted her up onto her kitchen counter. Stepping in between her legs, Tim dragged his hands up the tops of her thighs and made quick work to remove her shirt. She watched him drink in her naked sight, blue eyes growing darker as they swept over her nakedness. Her emotions purred in delight.
"Where did you get this?" He asked as his hands stopped their curious exploration over her body. His left hand stopped over the dip of her waist, hand just stopping over a freshly healed bullet wound. His thumb feather over the discolored puckered flesh.
"Got shot with a silver bullet two weeks ago," Raven absently shrugged. She watched him stare at the wound intently, eyebrows drawn into disapproval. "I guess silver bullets don't just work for vampires,"
Tim hummed and Raven watched him gently slide his fingers over the new wound. There was a swirl of emotions from him before he leaned into her and pressed a kiss to the bullet wound.
Raven inhaled sharply at the intimate press of his lips. Her heart leapt and she stared in surprise at Tim as he pulled away and smiled at her. "There, all better."
Her heart swelled without her consent as she watched the smile blossom on Tim's face. He rested his chin on her stomach, blue eyes bright and teasing. Raven released a soft huff of laughter and ran her hand through his long hair. "You sap,"
Tim chuckled and pressed a kiss to her abdomen, staring up at her teasingly. Dragging his hands tantalizingly slow up her rib cage and slowly sliding them her body, fingertips pressing into heated skin and scraping down the sides of her legs that framed his torso. Tim squeezed her thighs and straightened, drinking in her half-naked form sprawled over his countertop. Raven inhaled deeply, relishing the musky emotions that draped heavily over them. Heat pooled low in anticipation as Tim once again studied her, memorizing her dip and cure of her body with nimble fingers and gentle kisses.
"Time to feast," Tim mumbled into her skin, sparking a fire within her that had her draw in a sharp breath.
Leaning over her, Tim pressed a kiss into her ribcage and gently slid his left hand up her side. He teased her panties a bit and Raven gently rocked into him in anticipation. She whimpered as his hand cupped her breast and began playing with her nipple, drawing into it into a taut peak. Tim gently pressed kisses into her side, lowering with every kiss and teasingly looking up at her as he drew gasps from his gentle ministrations.
He pressed a kiss into her right hip bone just above her panties and she watched him smirk in satisfaction as she gasped and squirmed underneath him. A fire of anticipation was building low and she was desperate for release. Tim kissed an old scar, lips lingering just above her panties.
"Tim," she whispered, her voice hitching and her eyes catching his teasing glint, thoroughly enjoying watching her come undone.
Over the time they spent together, only Tim could unravel her slowly. He knew every way to unravel layer after layer of her, to draw out the rarest of emotions. She whimpered as Tim dipped lower, kissing just above her waistband of her panties and his fingers dug into her hips, keeping her from rocking into his face. Her chest tightened, it was only Tim who could so easily squeeze himself into her tightly wrapped up space and draw her out.
A finger dragged across her wet panties, pressing teasingly into her throbbing core. Raven gasped and arched off the counter. His finger stroked her and she whimpered, as the fire Tim stoked slowly came to life and started to burn her skin. "Tim," she whimpered, legs pressing into his sides to lock him in place.
"So wet," Tim mumbled, looking thoroughly pleased at what he found. His finger stroked her a few more times before deciding she had enough and he made quick work to remove her panties.
Fully naked on his cold kitchen counter, Raven inhaled deeply as Tim spread her legs wide for him to stand in between. Raising her head off the counter, she watched his eyes darken and practically drink in her nakedness draped on his counter.
"You're dripping, Raven," Tim praised, voice close to a growl. He stared at her, drinking her in like a parched man in the desert. Raven felt her skin burn under his heated gaze.
And without much preamble, Tim dipped his head down and finally drank.
Raven gasped loudly, arching off the cold kitchen counter and her thighs strained against Tim's arms as they pressed her wide open. A groan rippled through her chest loudly as Tim’s tongue furiously flickered over her clit, shooting sparks of electricity up her spine. Without worrying over teammates overhearing and discovering them, Raven groaned loudly as her whole body burned under Tim’s thorough attention.
Melting into their smoldering desires that lay thick and heavy in the room, Raven meweled and jerked her hips into Tim’s face as he dragged his tongue over her. She saw the satisfied glint in his eyes as she caught him watching her while he continued with his furious attack on her pussy. The dark glint in his eyes and his possessive emotions wrapped hotly around her and Raven whimpered as pressure slowly started to build up.
His tongue probed into her as she felt him spread her wider with fingers opening her folds. She struggled to chase for release as Tim held her writhing hips down and started sucking her clit, drawing out a guttural groan from her. Sliding her hands over her head, Raven grasped the edge of the counter above her and held on as she slowly started to spiral into oblivion.
"Tim, Tim, Tim," she whimpered his name like a prayer, hips writhing into his face as he continued to furiously flick his tongue over her clit. He probed into her with his tongue, drinking greedily. She felt him hum into her, seemingly utterly pleased at her reaction.
She gasped as he roughly pulled her closer to the edge of the counter and buried his face into her, lapping and flicking his tongue over her pussy, drinking her like a thirsty man. Pressure pooled low in her abdomen and a fire threatened to just consume her. Drawing herself up breathlessly by her elbows, Raven watched greedily as Tim all but consumed her.
"Please," Raven whimpered, desperately rolling her hips into his face as his tongue fucked her senseless. She was ready to implode. Throwing her head back, she gasped as fingers slipped into her and his tongue furiously attacked her clit. "Fuck, Tim."
She heard him growl into her and his lust and desire burned her skin, singeing her soul and seeping into her very core. She mewled as she came fucking hard around his mouth and fingers and she breathlessly watched him lap her up, drinking her in and furiously pounding his fingers into her, drawing every last drop from her.
She rode his face through the high, desperating drawing it out, gasping and whining as the release all but burned her senses. Raven was sure she was loud and wanton, and she had an aching feeling that they looked like a scene straight out of a porn movie. They looked vastly different from their usual calm and collected selves, like two different personas of what the world knew them to be.
The thought of how they bared their rawness, their scars and their little little secrets to each other — and only to each other — caught her off guard. She gasped through her orgasm, a little delirious from Tim’s heated emotions. She caught his dark gaze, blue eyes filled with lust and desire and so much more. Her legs wrapped around his head and his tongue remained unforgiving on her clit, dragging out every bit of her orgasm. Her chest tightened and her stomach churned at the possessiveness and how, despite her better judgement, she wanted this — all of this. Raven whined and felt his fingers sink into her thighs just as she ground herself into his mouth, moaning loudly.
Fingers wrapped around her wrist and Raven drew in a ragged breath and watched mesmerized and drunk high as Tim slipped his hand into hers and their fingers intertwined. Mouth unrelentingly sucking and teasing her, and his fingers squeezed hers tenderly — a stark contrast of their dirty ravishing. It was tender and warm. And it had Raven’s heart stutter.
How dangerous this was, she thought through the fog of lust.
Tim released her, finally, mouth glistening and looking all too pleased. Her legs felt like jelly and Raven wasn’t sure if she could even keep herself upright. Her body practically hummed with electricity and fire. She watched him grin at her triumphantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before pressing a kiss to her neck and to the underside of her chin. “Delicious,” his voice rumbled into her skin and Raven marveled at the stark contrast of this Tim to the Tim everyone else knew. Darker, rougher, possessive, and gentler all the same. She was absolutely pleased to have this Tim for herself — for the time being.
Raven hummed, her skin buzzing as she relaxed into his looming form and slowly went limp against him. Her arms warped around his shoulders, fingers absently dancing over scars and muscle as Tim continued to press kisses against her shoulder and neck. She felt his emotions, smoldering under his skin from their little tryst, and she knew that they were far from done.
He kissed her, it was sloppy and needy, stealing her breath away and greedily drinking in her whimper. Still high from her orgasm and hungrily feeding off his own lust, Raven returned the kiss in kind, fingers curling into the hard muscle of his shoulders, drawing him closer to her. She tasted herself on him.
“Can you stand?” Tim asked her, thumb swiping over her nipple and drawing a soft gasp from her. She nodded, albeit she wasn’t all too sure — her body felt like it was on fire and weak all at once. Mumbling into her skin, Tim kissed the underside of her chin before pulling her down from the counter and onto her wobbly feet.
They kissed and kissed, greedy hands slipping over skin and scars and Raven felt her skin ache again as Tim all but consumed her — her back pressing into the ledge of his kitchen counter, drawing out gasp after gasp, and rekindling a fire into an inferno.
Warmth seeped into her skin and Raven greedily took what Tim had to offer, allowing her own hands to take from the planes of his skin and milk every gasp and groan from his lips. She knew that this was a terribly dangerous field they were constantly threading in — and she knew that he knew that too. But, perhaps she was selfish, all she wanted was to take. And she knew Tim wanted the same — take every last bit she had to offer.
She groaned and her chest tightened as her thoughts disappeared as quickly as they came and she allowed herself to get consumed in lust and desire. Tim turned her around and she braced herself over the counter as Tim loomed over her bent over form, kissing her back and roughly grabbing her ass.
“Please,” she whispered into her arms, anticipation building as hands slipped over her back and ass, teasing her. “Tim,”
What dangerous little games they play, she thought over the sounds of their ragged breath and the delicious feel of warm, solid skin pressed against her. She felt her heart stutter and her chest tighten from being wrapped up so comfortably in emotions and feelings that were both his and hers.
Oh how dangerous.
She groaned as Tim sunk into her from behind, filling her and making her slip into bright, hot extacy that only he could bring. His warmth, the fullness, that he brought was uniquely Tim’s. Terribly addicting. Raven groaned, arching into Tim’s chest as he picked up the rhythm and absolutely debauched her from behind.
She forgot all about the world around her. And Raven allowed an all too familiar heat to all but consume her. Again.
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meggannn · 4 years
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Thoughts and analysis on Gen. Armstrong (if you don't mind)
oh absolutely. a lot of this is speculation on my part, but it’s just my reading and theories on how she kind of came to be who she is.
so i vibe with armstrongs being a very traditional, patriarchal family in a very old-fashioned country. they had four daughters, olivier being the oldest and (arguably) most capable, but alex, the second youngest kid but only son, was the one chosen to lead the family. i think that olivier carried a lot of the burdens of being the oldest sibling and oldest daughter.
maybe olivier was the first daughter in the armstrong family in a long list of sons? i like that idea because it kind of has the opportunity harden her to the world as a kid, in my mind. a lot of excitement for the firstborn in an illustrious family, and… it’s a girl. ugh. okay, well, we’ll try again.
except i think olivier really decided to just start doing whatever she thought a male firstborn would get to do, taking her studies seriously, preparing to be the armstrong heir, and her family just kinda sighed and didn’t take her seriously. when she joins the military, i am going to bet that she either had to fight for it, or there was a lot of familial backlash/tsking between her parents because ~a woman shouldnt be in the army~ (i am operating under the belief she’s the only female officer to ever make it to general, because to my recollection i don’t think we’ve ever seen another female officer as high or higher than her). and when alex follows her to the military years later, i’m going to bet she was L I V I D when their parents were like “well of course, he’s the oldest son, he’s going to make us proud.” there were screaming matches of epic proportions when she joined, and when he does, it’s all fine. (even alex as an adult isn’t entirely rid of sexism when he asks when she’s ever gonna change her attitude so she can get a husband. and when she challenges his right to head the family, he arguably loses because he underestimated her. although i’m also going to chalk part of that up to the fact that although alex wanted to head the family, he didn’t NEED to win as badly as olivier needed to, because she needed to kick their family out and use the mansion to house her troops to prepare for the promised day. that’s the kind of person she is, “i need this to happen and so it will happen, i will give myself no other option.”)
i don’t think that olivier is the kind of person who pushes her limits to try to “prove” anything to other people; maybe she started by trying to mostly prove it to herself, but it eventually just became who she is. no nonsense. very protective, but maybe tired of taking care of kids/siblings. highly capable, very savvy. perfect for briggs. i think she takes her role as their leader VERY seriously. she knows she’s earned it, and up north defending the border, she sees how every person matters.
i’ve always wondered if there’s something in how olivier is stationed at briggs, the furthest possible post away from central. i don’t think it’s to get away from anything, exactly; it does seem like the best job suited for her. i think partly this represents her physical distance and distain for politics: she clearly looks down on mustang, possibly because he’s a state alchemist, and maybe part of it is for his reputation of being an annoying flirt who can charm his way up the ranks while maybe she had to fight for every rank she earned, though i think also part of it is because she thinks he’s naive to join the very system he’s trying to abolish. but as we see in late show, she’s not terrible at the politics and backstabbing, i think she just doesn’t like to deal with bullshit. she’s a very blunt person. she’ll play chess if she has to, clearly, but when she pulls the sword on the room full of officers, you know she’s been waiting MONTHS to do that.
she also doesn’t like alchemy. i’ve always wondered if there’s a reason behind this – the wiki says “she views [equivalent exchange] as a mindset promoting easy handouts and unnecessary compromise” so i’m guessing she doesnt like philosophies that base themselves around quid pro quo agreements, especially since it leads very easily to corruption. the armstrongs are a very noble family that take that sort of thing seriously. i think she’s smart enough to realize alchemy is often NECESSARY, but the state alchemists themselves are… ugh. difficult to deal with and probably almost always really bossy. and think they’re so fuckin special. and also all male. so it’s no wonder she doesn’t give a shit about edward elric, some kid who shows up with no warning with a letter from her annoying brother, asking for her help.
so already she has a chip on her shoulder about alex: he’s a younger sibling she had to take care of; he’s a younger BROTHER who got more support and fewer roadblocks than she did for achieving (or even wanting) the same things way before he ever did; he’s also an alchemist, and state alchemist. she’d see that as annoying at best and borderline dishonorable at worst.
and then ishval.
so for the record, i fully believe that by the events of canon, olivier’s intense disgust for alex for his “cowardly” actions in ishval is mostly, if not entirely, an act. i think it’s EASY for her to act like it’s real, because she struggles with real feelings of hostility and annoyance toward alex for the reasons above, and she WOULD probably think he’s a poor soldier for defying orders…… but would she openly advocate for genocide? she’s not perfect, but i don’t think that of her. but she lets absolutely none of that internal questioning show on the outside. externally? “my brother is a disgrace. he failed to protect this country. if i were head of the family, i’d dishonor him publicly.” and alex, you know, i think he sees past this, a little? he knows she has to say these things otherwise she’d lose her reputation and might also be demoted, given she’s on a rickety foundation as a woman general as is. she doesn’t have to be so passionate about her opinions, but she might also have gained a target on her back by his actions in ishval; maybe they’d assume she had ishvallan sympathies because he was her brother. so she’s already got enough baggage against alex, and he inadvertently dumps some more political bullshit on her back just because he didn’t do his job. i think she’d say the things she did to distance herself from alex, not because she’s angry with him or disappointed in him (though there is a bit of that, but for unrelated reasons), to keep her position. she’s very ruthless politically. you could question the morality of this, like i do, but i don’t entirely blame her for feeling like she could lose her position as the only female general in charge of defending a politically hot border position.
fma has a rather annoying “we don’t see color” attitude wrt race at times, but in the case of olivier, whose attitude after all the years in briggs is “we literally cannot afford to be prejucide, there are so few capable people here, and if someone works, they are part of the team and will be treated with respect, full stop” it makes sense why she’d say what she said to miles. it’s not that i think she’s an ishvallan activist behind the scenes because of her lieutenant, but i think she knows the “war” was complete horseshit and fully respects his bitter feelings toward the amestrian government.
privately, though, i think olivier knows clearly that this country is messed up, before “the shape of this country.” but she has a very powerful family, and it’s hard to completely renounce that dedication. she still loves amestris a lot. she feels very protective of the people she’s defending, even if she doesn’t like them very much.
i respect that she swallows her pride, gives up briggs, and joins the political battle in central when it becomes clear that that’s the best way to get to the center of the matter. imo she and roy mustang teaming up, unnoticed, in the heart of the beast could have made an amazing combo, but ofc she’d never let that happen lmao. she is a good person without being a nice person. that’s refreshing. she’s ruthless, pragmatic, ambitious, angry, untrusting, and kind of an asshole, and yet you never doubt that she is, at heart, honorable and trustworthy. she will tell you what she thinks of you. she hates lying. but she will cave and do what the people of amestris needs her to do; we see she IS able to separate her government from her country. i think she always knew, but the events of the show are kind of her “put up or shut up” moment to stand up and show where her loyalties really are, and she delivered. she’d be offended if you ever even thought she might choose differently.
i love olivier a lot because she doesn’t have an arc in the traditional sense; her personality and position don’t change much from the time we meet her to the last time we see her. her biggest change is that she lets herself show pride in her brother, or maybe she’s able to admit that she’s proud of him in the first place. i think for her, that’s enough. i also really, really like that she’s not shown as someone who NEEDS to change. she’s allowed to be an angry, confident, strong woman in charge of a fort who likes things the way she likes them and expects you bend to her rules in her fort or you will leave. i think it’s a great accomplishment and testament to the writing and acting to show that she is not nice, and not always likable, but you never question she is a good person.
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intothedanvers-e · 6 years
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Young, Dumb, & Broke
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Word Count: 2.6k (whoops)
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: You just graduated high school and were ready to embark on your last summer of being a dumb teen and going on adventures before having to face the realities of the adult world. One day you were driving to a lake to meet some of your friends when your car broke down in the middle of nowhere. With no service and no gas stations around you wandered a little down the street and found one house where you went to ask for help. You expected to find an old couple living in the middle of nowhere, but a nice young British guy (Tom) answered the door. Due to unforeseen circumstances you spend the rest of the afternoon and most of the night together, but when it’s time to leave he says he wants to see you again. You exchange numbers with the cute British guy and embark on a long, secretive summer fling. You both lie about what you do for a living and what you were both doing in the middle of nowhere, but the moments you too bonded were all genuine. Will he find out about your plans after summer? Will you find out what he actually does for a living? Will this fling extend past summer?
Authors Note: Thank you for all the feedback on this series! So i think im officially commiting to updating this once a week on Tuesdays! Mondays are usually a drag for me so i end up finishing a bunch of writing anyway and it helps perk me up for the rest of the week! I know its monday but next week ill update it on tuesday :) if you have any feedback/comments or would like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know!! this chapter is a little longer but I wanted to sort of finish this part to move on to cuter angsty stuff ;) i genuinely hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoy writing it!! thanks for readin <3 
Here’s my masterlist!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5
Chapter 4
You jumped up from the couch, your phone alarm startling you awake. You quickly turned it off trying not to wake up a sleeping Tom on the other couch. It was too late, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He smiled at you as soon as he saw you were awake.
“Sorry about that, I forgot I put an alarm on my phone so I can get up to shower. I didn’t mean to wake you up”
“S’alright. I should probably make breakfast before we go on and take a look at your car,” he said getting up from under his blanket.
“Oh you don’t have to come with me I don’t want- “
“Already decided!” he yelled as he walked into the kitchen.
He started playing music from a speaker as the sound of pots and pans being shifted around became louder. You quickly took a shower and came back out to meet Tom for what you thought was a quick breakfast. To your surprise he’d made a full spread; pancakes, cut up fruit, a ham and cheese omelet and some toast.
“Whoa thank you for breakfast,” you said sitting down in the seat next to him.
He just gave you a big smile considering he was already shoving things in his mouth. His hair was super bed-head curly and his eyes seemed sleepy but content. He looked adorable to say the least. You realized you were staring at him and quickly looked down at your various plates of food, quietly cursing yourself for staring at him for so long and hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“The car should be coming to get us at about 10, if that’s ok with you.”
“Do you mean like a taxi or something?”
“Uhh yeah,” he said quickly.
“You didn’t have to; I could’ve just walked.”
“Nonsense. Y/N when will you just let me be nice to you?”
You blushed and simply nodded your head. You spent all night trying to not be an inconvenience you didn’t even consider maybe he was just a really nice guy. He finished all the food in front of him and got up quickly.
“I’m going to go get ready before they come get us,” he said walking toward the stairs, “don’t you dare wash dishes, just put them in the dishwasher okay?”
You shot him a thumbs up and he disappeared up the stairs. 30 minutes later he walked into the living room as you were casually laying on the couch reading a book. You looked up at him and felt the butterflies again. His outfit was nothing special, a plain white shirt with regular jeans and a dark flannel, and his hair was slightly more tamed but just looking at him made your heart race. You didn’t want to admit it, but you may have a slight crush on him. You sat up as he walked over to you and plopped down on the couch next to you. He had a small box in his hands.
“I, uh, found an extra one of these in one of my suitcases. I ordered one online and they accidentally sent two. I was going to return it but seeing how much you like the character I really think you should have him.”
He handed you a tiny box with a Spiderman keychain in it. He was hanging upside down in his classic spidey suit.
“Oh my god this is adorable. He’ll look great next to my tiny Iron-Man. Thank you.”
“Just a little something to remember last night by,” he said looking deep into your eyes.
“How could I ever forget?”
He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. He looked at the watch on his wrist and stood up.
“The car should be here any minute if you’d like to wait outside.”
“Sounds good.”
He quickly grabbed your duffel bag and headed out the door. You were going to tell him you didn’t mind carrying it, but stopped yourself and let him be a gentleman. He locked the door as a fancy blacked out Range Rover pulled up.
“What kind of taxi service is this?” you said your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.
“It’s not. He’s more like a, uh, chauffer?”
You turned to him and looked at him like he was crazy.
“What?!”
“Hey I’m not old enough to drive a rental car so, uh, my friend Harrison always manages to hire a chauffeur for if I need to get around places! It’s no big deal, I know the guy.” he said doing a quick handshake with the driver who had gotten off to open the back door for you. You climbed in the car shaking your head at Tom who got on the other side. Within a few minutes you were pulling up next to the mechanic. You could see that they were working on your car. You quickly thanked the driver and climbed off. Tom grabbed your bag and sent the driver on his way.
“Hey if I need you I’ll call you big guy. You’re the best man.”
They did their little handshake and he drove off. The both of you walked into the small office together. A middle aged man turned around in his chair to face you.
“How can I be of service to you today?” he said in a thick southern accent.
“Hi I’m Y/N, uh my car is the one that got picked up late last night. The small green one.”
“Oh that car. Got some of my best guys working on it, although I will say I do think you’d be better off selling that piece of junk and buying a new car little lady. Don’t know how much longer it’ll last.”
“I just need it to last through the summer.”
“Well let’s go ask Hal how it’s comin along and we’ll see if it’s even fixable okay lil lady?”
You nodded and followed close behind him, Tom close on your heels. You walked over to the car and saw that four guys were working on various different parts of it. The guy from the office was talking to who you assumed was Hal. You took a step closer to see if you could hear anything. Hal turned to look at you and extended his hand toward you.
“Hello ma’am I’m Hal, the best mechanic at this here Complete Auto Body. I take it this is your car?”
“I’m Y/N, yeah this is my baby.”
“Well no offence ma’am but I think she’s far gone. We can repair her for the time being and make her drivable but I think in about six months’ time you’ll be back in here with some irreparable damage. Might consider selling her off.”
“Six-month reliability is fine. I just need her to pull me through the summer.”
The guy looked at you confused and nodded. He turned to the three guys who were all hovering around your car.
“Well you heard the lady.”
They all went back to working on your car. The guy from the office walked you back into the tiny room.
“They should be done within the hour ma’am. If you give me a few minutes I can gather up a quote for you.”
You nodded and he left the room quickly. You and Tom sat on two chairs that were up against a wall. He turned to look at you and you realized he had a confused look on his face.
“What?”
“Why do you only need your car through summer? Are you planning on buying a new one?”
You looked down and started picking at your nails.
“No but, um, I’m moving away after the summer. I was planning on selling my car right before I moved so that I don’t have any more baggage that I don’t need.”
“Oh for like college or something?”
“Yeah kind of. I just need it to get me to and from work this summer. After my last shift I’ll drive it off to sell it and I’ll be done with this town.”
“I thought you liked it here?”
“I do, I guess. But I just need a change of scenery. Its home. It’ll always be home; I don’t think my mom wants to move anywhere else. I just need to not feel like I’ll be stuck here forever you know?”
He gave you an empathetic smile and looked like he was about to tell you something but was cut off by the guy walking back into the office.
“Here you go ma’am,” he said handing you a yellow receipt.
You smiled and looked down at the paper. You felt like your head was going to fly off your body.
“1500 dollars?!”
He walked over to you and began explaining everything you were paying for but you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. All you could think about was how big of a setback this would be toward you finally getting away from this town. You had just about 1500 in your savings account but that was going straight toward your moving away fund, or at least it was supposed to. You suddenly thought about the emergency credit card your mom gave you. She would probably be mad as hell if you used it but at least this way you could pay her back in payments and not all at once. It would set you back a month or two but you could continue to make the payments from anywhere in the world which meant you could technically still leave whenever you had enough money. You cut the guy off and stood quickly.
“I need to make a phone call.”
You quickly walked out of the office and dialed your mom. She was out of town and probably working but you had to try, you didn’t want her to find out about the credit card charge from the bank but from you instead. It went straight to voicemail. You tried a few more times with no luck. You decided to try one last time and this time it only rang once and went to voicemail. You decided to leave a message.
“Hey mom. So something came up and don’t panic but good ole Patricia took a beating last night. No it wasn’t a crash but she got pretty fucked up. Anyway unfortunately it’s about 1500 to fix her and, uh, I’m using the emergency card to pay it. Please don’t be mad. I’m going to pay you back every last cent, with interest if you want. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up. Call me back. Bye.”
You hung up and groaned into the sky. This was just your luck. You wanted nothing but to leave and expand your horizons but something kept having you tethered here. Despite how nice and good you were to people, you always seemed to get the worst karma. While you were standing there feeling sorry for yourself Hal walked over to you.
“She’s all yours ma’am. My boys are just dustin’ her off for you.”
“Thank you Hal. I just need to go back inside and pay her off.”
“My pleasure ma’am. Be safe out there.”
He shook your hand and quickly walked off. You dug your wallet out of your backpack and walked back into the office. To your surprise Tom was standing in front of the man’s desk shaking his hand.
“Nice doing business with you kind sir.”
“Yeah whatever,” the man said handing him your car keys. He saw your confused expression and quickly pushed you out of the office.
“I have to, uh, pay him.”
“All taken care of Y/N,” he said pushing you toward your car.
“What are you talking about Tom? I can’t just leave without paying him.”
“It’s paid for,” he said using your key to open your trunk to set down your duffel bag.
“What do you- “
It instantly clicked in your head. Had he just paid 1500 dollars to get you your car back?
“Tom what the fuck?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you just pay 1500 dollars?”
“No.”
“Tom!”
“Not technically.”
“TOM WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“Can you please get in the car and I’ll explain everything where 15 guys with heavy tools can’t hear us?”
You quickly climbed in the driver’s seat. Your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest and it felt like you were sweating bullets. You didn’t like owing people things, and you already felt like you owed Tom a lot for letting you crash at his place overnight; you didn’t want to owe him actual money at this point.
“I’ll pay it all back. We just need to go to an ATM so I can take the money out of my savings,” you said turning the car on.
“No Y/N it’s really not a problem. The guy was trying to scam you. While he was explaining everything you were essentially paying for, some things weren’t adding up. I know a thing or two about fixing and restoring old cars, and he was telling you about things that didn’t even exist. When you left to talk to your mom I asked to see the receipt and called his bluff. You really only owed him 650 dollars, so I decided to pay it off so you never had to look at that sleazebag again.”
You were trying to process everything he was saying, your head was spinning so much you had to pull over.
“Wait how did you know I left to call my mom?”
“The windows might have been open?”
You gave him a death glare.
“Okay look think of this as an investment. I could tell by the tone in your voice that you’re the kind of person who hates asking people for things, especially your mom. I figured you’d probably been saving up to move out of here for as long as you could remember and I didn’t want this to fuck it up. I’m investing into your future Y/N. I could feel the passion you had in your dreams from the way you talked about them last night in the pool, and I believe in you. I had the resources to help you, so I did. No strings attached. I just really didn’t want to see a bad thing happen to a good person.”
You sat there a second without saying anything, hands glued to your steering wheel.
“650 dollars is still a lot Tom. I can’t just accept that from anyone, especially someone who has already opened their home and risked their life to give me a place to crash. Let me pay you back, please?”
“Y/N I promise you you don’t need to.”
“Let me be your unofficial tour guide,” you said quickly.
“What?”
“Let me show you around, from the point-of-view of someone who knows this town like the back of my hand. Whenever I’m not working and you’re not busy I’ll come pick you up and we’ll go on an adventure.”
He looked at you and smiled.
“Deal. I was hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I would see you this summer.”
You pulled off the side of the road and began driving.
“Oh you and I are going to get real close this summer Tom. That’s my official Y/N promise, and I never break a promise.”
You took a quick glance at him and smiled, he gave you his signature goofy smile with a slight shade of pink in his cheeks. Your summer just got a lot more interesting.
Tag-list: @hollandlovely @greenarrowhead @justanotherfangirl2015 @oh-dear-tommy @marvelnerdxinfinity @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @hollandhugs @tiredofallthetroubles @marvel-ing-at-it-all @built4broadway
strikethrough means i cant tag you for some reason :(
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musicaldoodlebug · 6 years
Text
The Paris Princess and The Pastry Prince- Chapter Two
Marinette was not expecting the peace and quiet that met her when she stepped off the plane. But she wasn’t complaining. It was nice to have a break from cameras.
She walked closer to the baggage claim, preparing to try and find her luggage when a voice called her name. She turned to see a young woman.
The woman, and who she presumed to be his son, were standing next to a cart, piled high with the pastel pink luggage. Marinette cringed. She didn’t like it when other people treated her like a famous brat. She would much rather do her own work.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry you had to gather all of these. Here, let me-“ but Marinette was cut off by the woman. She laughed and looked at Marinette like crazy. As if she would be allowed to cart her own luggage!
“Oh nonsense Ms. Cheng,” Marinette inwardly cringed. She missed her dad so dearly, and it annoyed her that she was no longer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but just Marinette Cheng.
Marinette was jerked out of her thought by the woman putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Mrs. Francine Lahiffe. I’m your mother’s assistant. And this is my son, Nino.”
The boy, Nino, merely looked up from his phone to give the girl a nod. Marinette watched as his mother flicked the cap on the boy’s head and shot him a look. Nino immediately took off his headphones and pocketed his phone.
“How do you do Miss Cheng?” he asked, sticking out his hand for her to shake. Once Marinette shuck it, Francine seemed pleased.
“Well, I’m going to find this bodyguard of yours. He’s supposed to be here to carry out your luggage. Miss Cheng, Nino, stay right here. I’ll be right back.” And with that, she was off, typing on her tablet.
Once she was away, Marinette allowed herself to relax. She always was tense around adults. After all, most of them were judging her, trying to find any way to fault the girl.
“Okay, now I can talk to you for real.” Marinette looked up from the floor to see the boy smiling at her. “What would you actually liked to be called?”
Marinette felt her eyebrows raise in surprise. No one ever called her anything except Miss. Or the Paris Princess. But she honestly hated that name, Chloë was the one who should have it. If her father was still mayor...well, he probably was.
“Um...Marinette is fine.”
Nino seemed to be in a bit of shock. “Wait. You, you don’t have any nicknames?” Marinette shook her head. “Well, no offense, but Marinette is a bit of a mouthful. How about, Mari?”
From the look on his face, Marinette knew he was expecting her to be offended. But she only smiled. She really did like it.
“Mari it is.”
“So...Mari,” he said, giving her a wink. Marinette could only giggle. “What’s China like?”
Marinette immediately went into detail, telling him all about how crowded it was, but also about the interesting food she had tried that made it worth it. Marinette really felt herself relax around Nino. It was much more interesting talking to him than Chloë or her own cousins.
Nino would throw in jokes, and interrupt her when something intrigued him. He made her laugh and smile. And really smile, not something she whipped out for a camera. No, her cheeks were hurting.
Nino was just in the middle of telling her about his old school back in Lyon when his mother interrupted their conversation. She beckoned them towards the front, where Marinette could see people crowded.
She knew she was showing the disdain on her face when Nino shot her a smile from where he was walking behind his mum. It gave Marinette a little confidence boost. She straightened her posture, and plastered on a smile.
The second those glass doors opened, Marinette was swarmed with people asking her questions. There were so many flashes, all their own kind of blinding. But Marinette kept her head forward, still smiling.
Her facade didn’t break until she heard a kid crying. She turned her head to see that a child in a stroller had dropped a toy, and her parents were far more interested in getting pictures of Marinette than helping their daughter. Marinette stopped waking, and turned. She bent down, picking up the little plush cat. She handed it to the child, who immediately started smiling.
Marinette waved to the girl, before briskly walking, a lady never runs, to the waiting limo. She carefully climbed in, and felt relief when the door finally closed.
Nino could only shoot her a reassuring smile before he was ushered to the front to sit with Marinette’s bodyguard.
Marinette sighed as they pulled away from the airport, laying her head against the window.
Yes, it was good to be home. But Paris had defiantly changed since she had left.
——//——
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hekate1308 · 7 years
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The Baggage We Carry, Chapter Seven
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They were woken up by Dad, who bemusedly hollered “Aren’t you a little too old for that, boys?” as he looked in at them from the hallway.
“Make him stop” Sam grumbled.
“Been trying to” Dean answered before they got up.
“Did you have bad dreams last night, Sammy?” Dad teased them at breakfast.
“Let it go, John, they’re brothers, they were probably sharing secrets” Mom said as if they were freaking five-year-olds pretending they knew something the adults didn’t in kindergarten.
Sam was about to reply when he felt Dean nudge him under the table.
He had the feeling he’d have to learn to hold his tongue if he wanted to get through the next few years peacefully.
Despite Sam’s discomfort, on that morning Dean Winchester couldn’t help but feel elated.
The connection, the bond he had shared with his brother, that most precious of all human relations, which he had thought long extinguished, had returned just when he needed it the most; and so, with a mutual understanding that he hadn’t experienced in far too long, they were able to –
“Oh God” Crowley groaned. “He did his Austen essay. Cassie, make him stop or kill me, I’m not listening to him gushing about his brother in that style until the class starts”.
“Excuse you, what do you have against Jane Austen?”
“What do you have against sounding like you are actually living in the twenty-first century?”
“Dean, can I read your essay?” Cas asked, his eyes sparkling, and Dean pulled it out of his backpack and handed it to him, heart beating fast.
Crowley muttered something like “idiots” under his breath.
His friend read the paper as he usually did when he concentrated on something; his eyes rapidly tracing the letters, his tongue now and then popping out to wet his lips.
Dean’s own mouth ran dry. He didn’t dare meet Crowley’s eyes.
“This is amazing, Dean” Cas said earnestly a few minutes later.
He shuffled his feet.
“Just did my best, is all”.
“Your worst is usually more than most people could achieve, Squirrel”.
Dean looked up, shocked.
“Crowley – was that a compliment?”
He seemed as surprised as Dean felt.
“I mean – ah – you’re not mentally deficient. Yes. That’s it”.
Thank God. For a second there, he’d feared Crowley was broken.
“We need to go to class” Cas reminded him.
“I’ll see you two at lunch” Crowley said and disappeared before they could ask him where.
“Freak” he muttered under his breath, but he was smiling.
They only found out what he had meant when they walked into the cafeteria at lunch, intent on eating quickly so they could meet up (and Dean was definitely not thinking about how they were walking close enough that he could easily have grabbed Cas’ hand if he wanted to) and found Crowley sitting right there in the middle at an empty table that by all means should have been full of students, only they were busy staring at him and whispering amongst themselves.
And Dean understood.
For whatever reason, Crowley had decided that he was going to make him choose.
Cas’ approach was subtler; do his homework with him, praise him for it, make him feel important.
But Crowley was nothing if not a drama queen, and he wanted him to make a big gesture now or presumably never.
We are way too young for all this dramatic bullshit, a part of him thought, but at the same time...
There was something about saying screw you for once.
Dean and Cas moved through the mass of confused students side by side, even though neither of them had said a word, and after they had got their food, they sat down next to Crowley.
“Dear God, it knows the way now, Cas... We’re doomed”.
“It’s alright, I’ll watch over you”.
“Shut up, I just found myself feeling peckish” Crowley muttered.
Dean had the feeling that it was something more.
Ever since they’d been over to the Singers’ house, Crowley had been more... outgoing.
At least for him. Hell, he’d accompanied Dean, Sam and Cas to the park, even though he’d still protested against playing football.
One of these days, Dean would have to ask.
“Dean? Cas?”
He turned around to find Aaron with a tray full of food in his hands.
“Hi”.
His eyes were fixed on Crowley.
“It’s alright. He doesn’t bite” Dean assured him.
“Not unless you want me to”.
Crowley winked.
Aaron blushed scarlet – at least he wasn’t scared – and sat down and Dean’s side.
“Hello, I’m – “
“Aaron Bass. You have been close friends with Dean for about three years. No siblings, but you and your grandfather get along very well”.
“And would you believe me” Dean dead-panned, “I never told him anything about you”.
Anything wasn’t quite true, but most of the stuff Crowley had figured out himself.
“Alright” Aaron said slowly. “That wasn’t creepy at all”.
“I have a reputation to uphold”.
Surprisingly, he smiled.
“I can see why you and Dean would get on like a house on fire”.
“We sure do” Dean said.
“Crowley is a more than acceptable companion” Cas replied.
Aaron suddenly chuckled.
“Oh my god, I’m at the weirdo table.”
“Would you rather be among the starers and whisperers, Bass?” Crowley asked. “Didn’t think you were the type.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know what type I am exactly”.
Oh my god, Aaron was flirting with him.
Dean definitely hadn’t foreseen that.
Even Crowley looked surprised.
When nothing weird whatsoever happened during the course of lunch – to the disappointment of the student body, who had at least expected that the school bad boy would try and knife someone at the table – the interest in them slowly died down.
“So, your Highness” Dean said at the end, “might you even grace us with your presence in class today?”
“Not today” Crowley said cryptically, baffling Dean. Was he actually contemplating showing up one of these days?
“What do you think is up with him?” he asked Cas on their way back to class.
“I think Sam wasn’t the only one who learned something during that dinner” he replied carefully. “I think Crowley feels more comfortable with letting people see his true self now.”
“He... wouldn’t be the only one” Dean said carefully.
Cas smiled.
“I’ve noticed”.
Dean swallowed; was he really going to do this?
“Cas, I – “
“Mr. Winchester” Miss Moseley called out and he winced. The no-nonsense maths teacher had caused him to sweat more than many training sessions for the team.
“Yes, Miss?”
She stood still in the corridor and studied them, and he’d once more the feeling that she was reading his mind.
“Good call” was all she said before she swept past them.
Alright, it was officially a weird day.
“Dude, she’s scary”.
“She’s just... intense” Cas supplied.
“I’d say. Anyway, ready for physics?”
He grinned.
“Can’t wait until we finally reach the good stuff”.
Crowley ate at the cafeteria more and more often after that day. He also now and then showed up in the busier hallways, which he had avoided until now.
Dean hadn’t asked him about it yet; whatever it was that had suddenly made him decided to interact more with people, he seemed content enough, and he was the same old snarky Crowley when they were together.
People slowly got used to the sight of him, even though there were a few who still ran off in the other direction when he came near them.
Thankfully though, while people wondered at his and Cas’ and Dean’s apparent friendship – moreover, in his and Dean’s case a friendship with all the signs of longstanding camaraderie – the news never made their way outside of school.
Despite his very recent decision that hey, maybe there was something to the things Cas and Crowley and Sammy now as well continued to preach to him, he wouldn’t have liked explaining all of this to his parents.
Especially since Crowley’s mother had exactly once entered the garage after her car had stopped working in the middle of the road and had angered Dad so far that he’d used the word “witch” at the dinner table and had even gone so far as to attest he might have been tempted to say something else if Mom hadn’t been present.
Dean really hoped they never met, and that she didn’t marry some rich guy before her son was old enough not to get shipped away to some fancy school.
“So” Sam asked one evening, stumbling into his room without knocking, “do you want to go to the movies?”
“Can’t” Dean said, “have to study for a math test, sorry”.
Sam beamed and darted away to let him work.
At least until a few moments later, when Mom knocked on his door.
“Dean? I heard what you said to Sam... You’re not having problems at school, right?”
“No, Mom. I’d tell you if I had.”
She nodded, then smiled.
“I guess I grew concerned when I heard you were actually foregoing the cinema in order to study”.
For once, he didn’t force himself to laugh, and she left slightly confused.
He needed good grades for a scholarship solid enough to get him through four years of college.
“Winchester” Miss Moseley told him a week later, “Quite an improvement. I knew you had it in you”.
“Thank you” he said, honestly surprised when he saw just how well he’d done.
Cas and Crowley were already waiting for him on the roof during the next break, and he all but pounced into the former’s arms.
“She actually told me I did good! Can you believe it!”
“No. This is me, not believing you” Crowley said flatly.
“Maybe you should have a smoke” he suggested, still hugging Cas.
“Nope, I told you I am going to quit.”
“When did you tell me?”
“Just now”.
“Drama queen” Dean said, shaking his head, then stepping back to accept Cas’ praises.
“Dean, I knew you were amazing” he began, blushing. “I just didn’t know if you would be able to prove it already”.
Dean grinned.
“Yep, I’m pretty damn awesome”.
“I knew he could” Crowley said. “Why do you think I’m quitting cigarettes?”
“Because you actually went to biology for once and learned it’s bad for you?” Dean suggested, because it was surely never too late for even Crowley to visit a class now and then.
“Very funny, Squirrel. Nah, I just figured... If you’ll be around to save the world through biomedical engineering and whatever Feathers chooses to pursue with that giant brain of his, it might be worth watching”.
“So you can burn it down?”
“I told you the chance was fifty-fifty. And you’re not the only one capable of changing his opinion” he all but snapped and Dean wondered if he’d perhaps underestimated just how much his friend had changed over the years.
“I never said that you weren’t” he observed mildly.
“Neither did I” Castiel said, “and I had heard quite a few things about you before Dean introduced us”.
Crowley relaxed.
“Aw, it’s cute when you two decide to co-parent someone”.
Alright, maybe he hadn’t changed that much.
“You’ve got roughly one and a half years left” Crowley reminded him. “You better get to work if you actually mean it”.
They all knew he just wanted to make them forget about that moment a second ago.
“Oh, trust me” Dean said “I plan on winning this round”.
Because yes, despite that he had believed himself to be resigned to his parents’ plans, despite Sammy laughing with them for years, despite his early beliefs that he’d lose both Cas and Crowley when they left...
Somehow he had decided differently.
Had it been when they went to sit with Crowley? At the Singers’? He’d probably never know.
But here was the thing.
Dean Winchester would get a scholarship, and he would go to the best damn college he could find, and he’d go with his bestie and his...
Well...
He glanced at Cas.
That was a subject for another day.
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all i know abt transformers is the shia movie and the fact that darren criss plays one in the cartoons i think? should i get into transformers is what i'm asking
Oh god this is my favorite question. I’m not sure how to answer it but its my fave. Pull up a chair. I hope you’ve got some time on your hands.
The short answer: yes. You should at least give it a try. Transformers is a 30+ year old muti-media franchise that gets rebooted almost every 3 years so it basically has something interesting to offer almost any fan. If you end up not liking it that’s cool but there’s a lot to try before you decide.
The long answer is: yes you should and here’s why and here’s a rough idea of all the options you have to sample. I’m about to go on a long rant anon so you can check it out now or later or whatever but I’m just warning you ahead of time.
The basic Transformers plot (which I’m sure you know but I’m gonna go more in depth in a minute) is that a race of giant robot aliens who can turn into vehicles and other things have been engaged in a civil war that has lasted millions of years. This is the basic plot that all tf franchises spawn from although some explore slightly different subject matters. If that doesn’t appeal to you I mean there /might/ be a few other things you might find worth sticking around for because there’s just so fucking much of it, but you’re welcome to turn back now because that’s the basic things tf has to offer: giant robot aliens, cars and planes, fighting, some drama. Those are what tf is best at, with some variation.
It has a very active and long lived fan base and each section of the fan base is interested in different stuff with some crossover. There are people who literally only care about collecting the toys, people who wont try any other series except g1, people who only like the comics, etc. Etc. You’ll probably find people who like what you do pretty readily. If you like the toys there are toy forums and blogs. If you like the cartoons there are forums and blogs made for that too. If you like the comics, same. There’s a pretty active following of the comics and cartoon series on Tumblr alone; I would try searching the #maccadam tag since most tf activity has been moved there since the bay movies came out. Id also use the tf wiki liberally because it has pm all the information you’ll need to know about the fandom and the canon lore. There’s also plenty of fan fiction on Ao3 and ff.net if you’re into that and pm anyplace that hosts fan art has tf fan art.
Now there are several series, including comics, cartoons, the Michael bay films, the cartoon movie, spin off books, and video games. I’m gonna go over my personal favorites because I like and know them best but there are more than these if you’re interested in digging deeper.
(More under the cut)
G1: there are a lot of forms of what fans refer to as Generation 1 or G1 but if you live in the US its likely they’re talking about the very first cartoon series.
Summary: the autobots and the decepticons stripped their planet of resources and went looking for a new planet to continue surviving on. They both crashlanded on earth where they lay dormant for millions of years until conveniently awakened somewhere during the 1980s, where they continue their war all over again
Why you should try it: listen its cheesy as hell and full of nonsense plotlines and animation errors but not only is it good fun but at least watching an episode or two might give you a decent grasp on what spawned this enormous franchise in the first place.
G1 movie: this movie was a game changer. Its technically right in the middle of the g1 cartoon but it works as a standalone film too. while it has many trappings of the cartoon its better animated and has a more consistent and dramatic story.
Summary: Optimus Prime and Megatron fight, OP dies (yes he fucking DIES for the very first time. thousands of 10 year olds bawl their eyes out), Megatron gets mortally wounded, and the Matrix of Leadership (aka an autobot holy item/macguffin [this is the proto-cube btw]) has to choose a new leader.
Why you should try it: decent animation, classics lines, tons of 80s rock music, and it establishes a lot of tf conventions that would be carried over to all series that come after it.
Beast Wars: haha the 90s couldn’t be left out of the transformers fun, now could it? This was one of the first all-cg cartoon series in history and while its not much to look at nowadays, it was a big step in the 90s.
Summary: the series doesn’t center on Optimus Prime and Megatron but their decendants. The war is long over but some factions are starting to clash once again. Several members of these factions do the whole “crash land on earth while fighting” thing except they wake up during times before humans and instead of taking vehicle modes, they take animal forms, thus the name.
Why you should give it a try: it establishes the idea of Sparks for the first time, it has historical significance in the cgi realm, and it has a decent storyline with interesting characters. If you can muscle through the 90s-computer-animation look it might be the show for you!
Transformers: Animated: I dont think its a secret that this is one of my favorite tf series of all times. It was the first cartoon series I ever watched of tf and it also features my favorite toy line.
Summary: Optimus Prime is much less a war hero and more of a ..janitor really. He flunked out of the academy and spends his time repairing space bridges. One time during repairs though, they stumble across the Cube and just their luck, Megatron and some nearby cons are looking for it. They portal away to earth where they, you guessed it, crashland, until they’re awoken sometime in the future and go on adventures in futuristic Detroit.
Why you should give it a try: I like tfa’s art style and story and characterisation best tbh; Optimus is younger and more unsure of himself but also more earnest, with more visible baggage. The rest of his team feel like a ragtag band of misfits (which I have a weakness for no lie lmfao) who are still trying to find their place in this conflict and the future ahead of them. Sari is also one of the more beloved human companions and the show’s take on classics characters feels fresh and interesting, and the interpretation of the autobots and decepticons themselves is surprisingly nuanced.
Transformers: Prime: remember that 90s animation? Kiss that shit good bye my friend. This cgi is some beautiful shit. More than a few fans wish tfp is the art direction the movies had taken, storyline aside.
Summary: the autobots are already on earth, staking it out and fighting a more subdued sort of conflict with the cons. One day they get some human kids involved and stumble across some conspiracy shit and it all spirals out of control from there.
Why you should give it a try: great animation and atmosphere, gorgeous character designs, a solid interpretation go the characters, and it offers a more serious take on the story over all.
Rescue Bots: I’ve noticed this show doesn’t make the list a lot which is a shame? It has a much younger audience than any of then other series but its still quality and one of my fave tf series.
Summary: the ship of four non-combatants who were left in stasis before the war detect a transmission telling autobots to go to earth, so it…goes to earth. There they wake up on some island and are told they’ve gotta start building a repatoire with the native species…but they can’t reveal that they’re sentient aliens yet.
Why you should give it a try: ok ok, most of the series are made for 7-12 year olds with the teen and adult fans sort of in mind, this show…is a show made for pre-K kids, no joke. Its a lot less…murder-y, and this is especially saying something because it came out at the same time TFP did and in fact is supposed to take place in the same universe!
BUT, but it has a consistently well-written story and characterization, it addresses stuff I never thought it would, and its a nice break from the ridiculously high stakes of the other series. Honestly Rescue Bots is great and I wish more people talked about it because its a series totally worth watching, certainly as much as any of the others.
More Than Meets the Eye comics: there are a lot of comic series but so far this is my favorite one lol
Summary: the war is over, Optimus is done with everyone’s shit and splits the matrix in half, giving one to rodimus and they other to bumblebee. And what does roddy do with his newfound matrix half? Decide he’s going on a quest of course! And who better to go with than literally every unqualified misfit the autobot and neutral factions have to offer?
Why you should give it a try: ridiculous shenanigans, horror, drama, intrigue, strong characterisation, and a killer aesthetic. Damn it may not always give me what I want but its got a lot of exactly what I’m always looking for.
There are some video games (Fall of Cybertron, War For Cybertron, Transformers: Devastation), other comic series (Robots in Disguise, G1/UK comics), and the Robots in Disguise cartoon, however I don’t have a decent enough grasp on them to describe them super well I just know they’re pretty good and have had people recommend them to me. You’re welcome to try those as well of course.
Also if you’re into toy collecting or want to get into it there’s a lot of materials you can read and such but my personal advice is pretty simple:
1) go to walmart, target, a store that sells collectibles, a convention, or a garage sale
2) buy a cheap toy that you like. Don’t spend over like $20
3) decide if that was a fun experience or not and if you like having this toy or not
If you liked it enough to keep buying, then congrats, toy collecting might be right for you! Do your research, Don’t blow too much money too quickly, take it easy, have fun.
But yeah sorry this is really long but I do hope you consider giving transformers a try since I know I love it a lot and it really has a lot to offer. I hope this wasn’t like…a crazy response. That a crazy person might give. And that I didn’t scare you away or anything XS
the key is to try some stuff and have fun and if its not your thing that’s cool too! Have a chill night anon
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newt-grundy · 7 years
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Untitled Compostion
              It may be lunacy, but lunacy has done me quite a few favors in the past. I do not, as of yet, feel too bitter towards her, to completely forsake her contributions, to my life. I was warm many a night, completely contorted to another, whose shape fit within mine, and my own, would dare not release her. I was always sort of, just stumbling into friends, meeting people and fuddling around with words, and soon enough, confiding in them, being pleasantly surprised at their human qualities, and the wetness of my eyes that I saw within them. Heavy sigh after itchy eyebrows, but the ride did come did it not? And yet, even though all those aspiring art pieces have fallen by the way side, I suppose it was a better use of time, rather than pissing it away to the wind, as most of us tend to do.
               The older ones, with thin skinned scalps, wrapped with wire spectacles, not much considered for their fashion, but more so for reading the ungodly small print, keep telling me to quit this fuzzy nonsense. My friends who are dear to me, but have the shrinking collars of a suspended home owner, well, their admiration is outweighed by fear induced hesitancy. They see the footprints are in blood and look away aghast, never to follow them and find the honey they have never tasted. Stimulated, in a simulation, they are content and dull, like the man who masturbates not when he desires, but pre-emptive to that desire as to sort of, nip it in the bud. This is how you have fat men with winkled wives, wearing the cheery dispositions that I always have found unsettling.
               But lunacy’s fault is not in her attractiveness, as her romantic appeal is the basis of any true romance. No, her unappealing features lay in all the comforts she will inevitably take away. All persons seem to be grief stricken in some way, and I theorize that; grief’s blight would be lessened if it were never forsaken. I see them wedging whatever they can get their hands on, in between grief and their ankles and prying it away, only to step on it again when their eyes aren’t watching the path, but gazing upward and awestruck, always assuming this solution to be forever lasting, and taking no precautions for its fading effectiveness. The costs of lunacy are easier to bear if, one were to bear them prior, to ever even feeling their benefit. A coin flip chosen to be lost, since the odds of winning are now higher. Cut off the hand, the other will grow stronger.
               Now, I have not cut off either of my hands, but I have cut off alarming portions of my feet. As I write this, my feet clean and bare, washed in a massive waste of water, in preparation for an outing with a friend that did not happen, I suspect her fears of the slight awkwardness bound to happen with our excursion, intimidated her out of a chance to feel kindness, and to care for another. What could honestly be more important, than to give and receive kindness, but to just, discard this, at fear of its costs, anxiety of the effort, well, I’d say that is true madness. She has chosen apathy over love, since love is not easily attained, and apathy is the default of an anxious mind. But would not this anxiousness be soothed by love?! All of this infuriates me, as I watch people choose to be nothing, since nothing is simple. Nothing fits into any hole. Nothing can mimic, and nothing can pass for almost anything, but in the end, when it lies in bed, it will feel for a brief moment, the weight of such horrific ambivalence and this is typically, what puts nothing to sleep.
               I’d rather be maimed and damned by the many, in exchange for the love of one, than tolerated and enjoyed by the masses, as the masses enjoy sitcoms and fast food. I had rather be cold, and suffering, and have this cold relentless and punishing throughout the night, but know I wake with a purpose, timeless and honorable, rather than wobble with a full belly and an empty scrotum, agitated and frustrated at trying to figure out what to consume next. I want to see every other person, exactly as I see myself, rather than see figures to compete with, bodies to fuck, and potential amateur comedians to fill my free time. I desire the lunacy of not mapping every detail to a point, under the illusion of control, the lunacy of not buying into the scheme of legacy.  
               As I write this now, my dog is gnawing away at her feet, to the point of panting and bleeding, out of the anxiousness of purposelessness, and she will always stop, if I pet her, and show her kindness.  I see people burn themselves up with nervous energy, eating to avoid grinding their teeth, stuck in a glazed, silent expression, while hours transpire before them, rarely to be capitalized upon. The momentary present thoughts of regretful last interactions, missed apologies, feelings unsaid, tampered down with a rapid pressing of the pleasure button, like a rat being awarded a treat for sniffing the correct corner of an empty cage. They would rather wear their nails down, hammering away at this button, this control method, than face the realities of life. They temper such realism, and substitute its absence, by living vicariously through paid actors in fake situations.
               All of this, ultimately, out of survival. An aura of apathy used to push through a nine hour work day which then carries over to the home life. They pay strangers to support them, strangers to get them off, strangers to make them live, but would barely flinch at the news of their death. They prefer not to invest in any two sided relationship, with someone who could fulfill their needs, someone who is not being bribed to make the process more easy going, at the sake of saving time, since, a nine hour work day does not afford one much time to waste. Relationships are streamlined, made efficient, a whole list of prior set expectations and rules to abide by, to simplify the process, skip all the messy stuff, and get straight to the good fuckin, the chummy times, and addressing “baggage”. Or rather they think, why have a need, tended to imperfectly by another, out of that other’s love for them, when they can simply simulate many needs being met by mercenaries? Nothing breeds dissatisfaction more than being undeservingly spoiled, and only because one is paying the hard dollar for such a service.
               And so, I plead, and beg, that this horror be abandoned, only for a moment, so they could sample the life of one who suffers, at the cost of love, and not in the way where they put up with the annoyances of another, and make this the cost, but in such a way where those annoyances are rather so cherished, because the alternative is far more detrimental, than being slightly agitated, and growing to resent a loved one. I ask them to scrounge for food in a rancid dumpster, so they may be grateful for a hot meal, to beg on the unforgiving concrete in the morning, after sleeping outside, next to a highway, and be met with strangers who not only refuse to respond, but pretend they aren’t even there, so they may feel joy when someone finally does answer their request. I ask them to discard the friendships of many disconnected, terrifyingly inhuman personalities, for a meaningful and fully realized relationship with one, or a few, or many. All of this is about as appealing and asking someone, “eat one grand meal a day, as appose to several bland ones” or even more accurately, “don’t eat for a day, and when you finally do, eat a shitty meal, and be grateful for it”, but the fear of despondency overrides the desire for joy. Yet I know, they have not felt their needs met in such a way, and while they do have want for this, it is not in the same way as I, who do not want, but miss it. Now I require it as a basic need, since its absence is hard felt, and always harder felt when I refuse to drown out my internal voice, screaming for love, with synthesized satisfactions, manufactured by heatless business men, banking of me never really ever feeling fulfilled, since the one who is full does not hunger.
               I understand this all may seem like I’m trying to sell a philosophy, by means of making someone second guess their own happiness, and have them pursue mine, so I may feel affirmed. That’d I’d rather those around me change, instead of invoking change on myself, or that it is a cliché concept that has no merit in actual practice. Well I rebuke this by stating that I have taken on the change, the most influential and dramatic transformation I’ve ever undergone, and it was the single most challenging feat I have ever overcome, but, it’s results are, for the first time in my life, since I was just starting to have the awareness of a young adult, bout nine, ten years ago; I have not had to fight off any suicidal thoughts, or feel the overwhelming despair I have only felt, in comfort, and with excess. I allow myself to feel love, and to love others, and I see the world clearly and without the haze of buzzy bee spectacles. My only intention is to inspire anyone and everyone, to take that first leap, where one must give it all up, abandon the pointless ruse, accept the loss of everything and everyone, and by this, gain the humanity we’ve been taught to repress, with all its anguish and joy. A brave new world we inhabit indeed, where I am now, repeatedly imploring those around me, to choose suffering, over comfort, and not for a church’s God or the benefit of a company, but for love, with it’s many worthwhile costs, which our world now refers to as, lunacy.
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mikeyvoodoodunn · 7 years
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☠️ 🙁 😢 🤐 🤧 👿 ☠️ 💥 ☔️ 🥊 🤺 🎧 ⚖️ 🖤 💔
I went through the process of formally reporting my abuser, with supporting testimony from one of my male friends who witnessed some of the events. The Authorities were forced to shelve the case for now because other victims refused to come forward, but mainly because my abuser lawyered up, left the country and denied all charges, instead building a hurtful bizarre case against me for slander and other things designed to wound and humiliate.
Formal channels are now clearly broken. The law very often fails women who report, but I refuse to let him stop me. I will be pursuing justice until I get it.
The abuser told the authorities that “she wanted it”, a cliche response by abusers and creeps everywhere. Did a teenage girl who was drugged and raped want it? I think not. The abuser believes in bizarre and gross nonsense like young girls are a privilege of his profession.
The abuser openly admitted to banking on his status vs. my status along with sympathy from the law from being a victim of sexual assault himself as a young adult.
The abuser violated every boundary I set, and would never take no for an answer constantly begging me to the point of tears to be in a relationship with him when I’d clearly stated I wasn’t looking for or even ready for a relationship. This person even attempted manipulation such as claiming that my unwillingness to date is discrimination against gay men.(like wtf?)
On one occasion he came to my my home at 11 pm, clearly intoxicated threatening cutting/self harm if I didn’t sleep with him. He Clearly uses this tactic to manipulate and control others.
Abusers don’t want to carry the guilt for their own abuse. They won’t do it. They would rather let you know it hurts them and they won’t let you hold them guilty, they say the guilt is on you, they force you to take it, they drown you in the guilt and say it’s all your fault.
You end up being the one who feels like a monster.
You’re the one feeling like you’re toxic and somehow a danger to others.
You’re the one carrying around the shame and guilt as if you abused someone that badly, as if you caused that someone to abuse you.
You’re the one who gets self conscious over your own actions and words.
The abuser makes you feel like you’re the worst human alive, that you actually deserve to be punished and abused for speaking up.
There’s a feeling like you’ve done something horribly wrong, like you need to be forgiven but nobody will give you forgiveness. You feel like there’s something inherently wrong and evil inside you, like you’ve caused all this trouble and everyone would be better off if you just kept your goddammit mouth shut and went the hell away.
It’s like none of this could be prevented because of what you look like or what you wear, and so after all, you must have deserved it.
The whole ugly thing makes you end up feeling like the world would be a better place without you in it.
You end up hiding yourself from everyone and scared that you’ll be revealed for how accountable you really are for the abuse. It makes you end up feeling like you don’t deserve to exist.
But really that’s what the abuser should have been feeling. That’s what he should have been carrying. Instead it was forced on you when you haven’t even done anything wrong.
This should be their emotional burden. It’s what they should’ve been going through.
Forcing the victim to feel the guilt and shame of the abuser, forcing them to carry this burden on themselves, together with the burden of being betrayed and abused, that is actual torture.
It’s devastating because it makes you start to second guess yourself and hate yourself, you don’t even feel human anymore.
What’s it like to be free of guilt, free of thinking about yourself as a monster, free of being a burden and spoiling things for everyone else. instead you accept the shame, self hatred, self consciousness, anxiety, fear and paranoia that you’re doing something wrong, you feel like you deserve to be punished.
It’s time for the guilt and the baggage to be returned to where it solely belongs.To the abuser. Let them carry it.
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