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#and because of that i’m including a bunch of past drivers
queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months
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Whatever It Takes
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.5k
Warnings: angst, hating loki for what he's done, only one bed trope
Summary: You hate Loki and everything he stands for. He ruined a bunch of lives, and you don't want to hear some bullshit on how the mind stone influenced him. He knows he's not a bad person, and he has to figure out a way to prove that to you.
Squares Filled: “god, if only you knew what you did to me.” (2021) for @lokibingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You take some puzzle books and shove them into your bag along with some coloring books and markers. Where you’re going is known to have spotty Wi-Fi service despite you having the best service, so you’re making sure to bring something to do when you can’t get online. The last thing you put into your bag is noise-canceling headphones so you don’t have to listen to Loki yap the whole time.
The thought of him makes you so angry. You slam your headphones into your bag and zip it up angrily. You’re more than happy to go on missions for the team, but you’re not happy with going on missions that Loki is going on. Even worse, you two are going to be alone for this one. This is a highly sensitive mission that can only have a couple of people on it, and they chose you and him.
You haul your bag to the living room where Natasha and Tony are waiting for you. Loki is still getting ready but he can take his fucking time. You don’t like Loki and you’re not shy about it. Everyone, including him, knows your dislike for him.
“Where’s the fire?” Nat asks when you stomp past her.
“I don’t know why I’m going on this mission. Why can’t you go?”
“You can hack your way through anything. Right now, we need that skill. I’m not a hacker. I kill things to get what I want. You sneak in the back door.”
“Okay, why does he have to go?”
“He’s a master of illusions. You’re the perfect pair.”
“Don’t call us that,” you roll your eyes. “It’s bad enough I have to go with him, but going alone? Why do I have to be alone with him? Come with us.”
“You know why we can’t. The less people, the better. It’s only for a week. You can handle being with him for a week. I’ll even take your next two missions for you.”
“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with. Loki! Hurry up!”
Loki appears seconds after you call him with his bag slung over his shoulder. He knows you don’t like him. You make sure everyone knows it whenever you’re within close proximity to him. He doesn't feed into your dislike because that would only egg you on so he silently takes whatever you give to him. It’s cute how angry you can get at him.
Your anger is justifiable. After all, he is the one who fucked with New York and brought an alien race to kill humans. He took Clint and used him as a puppet for his own greed. He killed eighty people in two days. He’s the one who let the Dark Elves into Asgard, causing a war to be brought to Earth. He’s not a good person despite him telling you over and over again that the mind stone influenced him for most of it.
“Have fun, you two,” Tony smirks, “but not too much fun.”
“Gag me,” you roll your eyes. “It’s not going to happen.”
You take your bag to the car while Loki stays behind with Nat and Tony.
“Be gentle with her. I don’t need her coming back in pieces.”
“I’ll check in in a few days,” Loki chuckles and walks out to the car. You fit your bag in the trunk leaving just enough room for Loki’s bag. He heaves it into the car and shuts the trunk. “Give me the keys.”
“Hell no. I’m driving.”
“Darling, you’re a terrible driver.”
“No, I’m not, and I’m not going to let you drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel with my life in your hands. I’m driving and you can back the fuck off.”
Loki could have won this entire argument if he wanted to, but he’ll let you have this one. If you two are going to be stuck with each other for a week, he’s gonna have to pick his battles around you. This won’t be the only fight and it certainly isn’t the last.
You two pile into the car, and you’re off. Loki turns to you to say something but you immediately turn the music on so you can’t hear him. Loki sighs and lets you have your tantrum, but he does want to talk to you. He lowers the music to speak but you cut him off.
“Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? We’re doing this mission together but that’s all this is. The mission. I don’t want to talk to you unless it’s work-related. Got it?”
“You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later about something else.”
“I choose later,” you smile sweetly and turn the music up again.
Tony is responsible for your shelter and he picks the worst fucking place on the planet. The motel he chose is run-down and old with the sidewalk chopped up, the paint in the parking lots is so faded it’s hard to tell where the next parking spot is, the building looks like it’s going to collapse any second, and the numbers on the doors are no longer there. Only a faded shadow of what was.
The inside isn’t much better, but what did you expect? The people you’re targeting are weapons dealers who choose places like this for a reason. No one would go looking for someone if they were here. Tony is one of your good friends but you’ve always hated his sense of humor. If you call him now, he’s going to say it’s a mistake on his part because there is only one bed. One bed that you and Loki have to share.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in anger.
“It’s only a bed, love,” Loki says and walks inside.
“I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“Be my guest.”
It’s already too late to do anything so you two get ready for bed. You grab two pillows and drop them on the floor. This isn’t going to be very comfortable but you’ll do it if it means not sharing a bed with Loki. After you brush your teeth, Loki prepares to take a shower. He closes the door before he gets undressed, and you glance over in curiosity. He hasn’t closed the door all the way so you can see him through the sliver.
His back is turned to you but damn, it’s a muscular back. He may be lean but he has well-defined muscles. Thor likes to show his off while Loki is more reserved. His pale skin glistens in the dim glow of the bathroom light, and you look away before he catches you staring. Yes, he’s quite handsome for a God. You’re not blind, you have eyes. No, stop it. He’s a bad person. He’s not handsome.
You shake your head and grab the top blanket layer on the bed to get comfortable. Your back is going to hurt the whole time you’re here but you refuse to sleep on the same bed as him. Loki finishes his shower quickly and quickly changes into silk pajamas. Of course, this motherfucker would have silk pajamas.
He walks out as he’s drying his hair and scoffs when he sees you on the ground.
“Really? You’re going to sleep on the floor?”
“Yes, now go to bed.”
“You can have the bed.”
“No, you take it. I’m fine down here,” you say stubbornly.
Loki sighs and doesn't argue as he gets into bed. An hour after the lights are out, you’re no closer to sleep than you were before. Every time you move, you end up knocking some part of your body onto the cold ground, and it’s starting to piss Loki off.
“Darling, come up here,” Loki finally says.
“No.”
“I will pick you up off this floor and tie you to the bed if you don’t get in it yourself.” If you’re being honest, the thought turns you on. He will make good on his promise so you stand up and transfer the pillows and blanket to the bed. You get in it but stay at the very edge. There is no way you’re going to be touching him in any way. “You’re being a child.”
“Shut up and go to bed.” You close your eyes to get some sleep when you feel his cold hand on your skin. Chills run down your spine but you’re not sure if it’s from how cold he is or if you’re turned on. You quickly slap his hand away before you get your answer. “Don’t touch me.”
Loki chuckles and lays on his back. An hour later, he can hear your soft snores that he finds adorable. Knowing he’s safe, he grabs your waist and pulls you into him. Subconsciously, you snuggle into him which makes him smile. He runs the back of his finger down your cheek gently so as to not wake you up.
“God, if only you knew what you did to me,” he mutters.
He has to find a way to make you see he’s not a bad guy, and he’ll do it for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.
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greencways · 2 months
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Could you do a fic where JJ is nervous to tell the reader that she has a crush on them.
💌 i’m actually 100% certain that this is NOT what you meant but i hope you like it?
💌this fic is so long it’s like 3K lol
💌 extremely antsy, a little fluff if you squint
💌 trigger warnings include; gun violence, hostage situation, kidnapping, miscarriage, shouting and screaming, threatening
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It was your first day at the BAU, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was showing you around the BAU and introducing you to everyone "Jennifer Jareau is our Media Liaison, she'll be here soon" Aaron nodded as you profoundly thanked him for taking time out of his day to do that for you.
You were walking past the elevators when you heard someone come out in a rush, she accidentally bumped into you because she didn't look where she was going because of how stressed she was, you could tell she wanted to tell the team something you just weren't sure what it was "oh honey I'm so sorry" she said as you stumbled backwards a bit, managing to fall on the floor "here, let me" she held out her hand for you to take, you looked up at her and accepted her offer she was gorgeous, she was a tall blonde with these piercing blue eyes, she was wearing a white shirt and a matching plaid skirt and blazer with black heels.
"Some first impression, huh" the mysterious woman smiled "I'm JJ" she smiled, her hand still wrapped around yours, now gripping for a handshake.
"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, It's my first day" you mirrored the same smile "I'm sorry, are you Jennifer Jareau? The Media Liaison?" you questioned.
JJ smiled and threw her head back as she laughed and nodded "Aaron has already introduced you to everyone huh, that's normally my job"
"Afraid so" you laughed.
"Come on, don't wanna be late on your first day" JJ winked as you walked together in the bullpen.
————
From that day on you knew you had a crush on JJ, you knew that she was unattainable but that didn't stop you from liking her, being around a bunch of profilers didn't help either, normally it was fine and you could handle your crush around everyone but Emily Prentiss could read you like an open book.
It started when she made two coffees, one for her and one for Emily but Emily already thanked her and she shrugged as she gave you one, you have the same order as Emily so you gladly accepted, as she gave you the coffee, her fingers ghosted yours slightly and they lingered more than they needed too, both of your flushed cheeks as you smiled the other "Thank you for the coffee Jay" you quickly hid your face and nodded again as a thank you.
"You're the only one that calls me that, you know" she nudged you playfully as she laughed and tucked one side of her hair behind her ears.
What really solidified your crush was one night at girl's night, around 6 or 7 months into working there, you were all playing a game of truth or dare when Penelope asked JJ if "she would kiss anyone on this team" and she quickly glanced at you and then glanced down, she was drunk and she definitely wouldn't remember this in the morning, in fact, none of them would, you were the designated driver and you weren't really much of a big drinker anyway so it worked out.
Emily saw you leaning on the bars looking over the bullpen, starting out at everyone, JJ being in your vision, she playfully teased you as she walked over to you, leaning in the same position next to you "she has a boyfriend, you know, Will Lamontange"
"The detective on the Jones case?" you recalled from around 2 years prior.
"Hmm" Emily affirmed as she nodded her head "the very same one" she put a hand on your shoulder as her way of saying sorry.
A week later when you got to the BAU, Hotch was about to call wheels up when JJ stopped you all.
"Guys..." she started.
"Is everything okay, JJ?" Emily turned around, you standing next to her doing the same too.
"I'm pregnant" JJ gulped and closed her eyes, unsure of how everyone would react "and Will proposed to me and I said yes"
"That's great Jay, Im so happy for you" you beamed as you walked over to her holding your arms out to indicate a hug.
"Thank you" she whispered in your ear.
Another chorus of cheers and celebrations came after the news, you were so happy that your friend was pregnant, you knew from the way she acted around children on cases that she would be the best mother anyone would wish for, but another part you longed that you were in Will's position, you wanted nothing more than to wake up to her every morning, make her coffee and kiss her goodbye on your days off and in the elevator when you got into work, you wanted to be the one she would come home to when you were cooking food and she was vent to you about her day, you wanted to do it all, you didn't hold it against Will though, through meeting him several times because of how close you and JJ were, he became a friend too.
"Excuse me" you smiled as you made your way into the bathroom, you knew that this was ridiculous, you were stupid to think you even had a chance with Jennifer Jareau in the first place, Emily picking up on your sadness straight away followed you into the bathroom.
"Y/N are you in here?" she called out.
"No" you muttered through sobs.
"Talk to me" Emily replied sternly.
"Are you here on your own? is anyone else with you?" Your spoke, a little louder this time.
"Just me honey" she took a deep breath.
"It's stupid" you laughed it off as you unlocked the bathroom door.
"Your feelings are never stupid Y/N.... what's up"'she walked over to you and hugged you.
"I was stupid for even thinking I had a chance with her in the first place"
"Y/N" Emily pushed.
You laughed at Emily's seriousness "I'm really happy for her though" you smiled sadly.
"I know you are" Emily returning the same smile.
So now, here you were almost 10 years later, on a case with JJ, attempting to chase down a kidnapping, you and JJ sprinting into the building where a man was holding 2 women hostage.
"Everybody out" you screamed, people running past you as JJ held the door.
"GO get out, FBI" JJ screamed at the same time the unsub was firing a gunshot.
"Put your weapons down. NOW" the unsub, who's name you both learned was Casey, screamed as he was choking a woman to stop her from escaping.
"That's not gonna happen" JJ said calmly, your eyes darted towards JJ and then back over at Casey.
"Melissa take it" he screamed at the other girl stuck in the building "take it, I'll kill your daughter you know I will, point it at them. NOW!" both of your guns trained on Melissa as she held a gun towards you with a shaky breath and shaky hands.
"Drop your guns now" he demanded, you looked over at JJ and she nodded slightly, you lowered your guns at the same time "Pick them up" your eyes looked from Melissa to your gun as she did just that.
"Please just let my daughter go" she begged, her hands still shaking.
"Melissa, we haven't finished our little game yet"
You looked at JJ and she looked just as confused as you, both guns are targeted at you, you couldn't do anything and you never felt more scared.
Melissa made you drop the floor and she tied your hands behind your back with duct tape "don't worry, it's gonna be okay" you smiled slightly, her doing the same.
"Hurry up" Casey groaned "get over here" reluctantly she walks over to him "You think you're so much better than me, but you're not" both of the guns trained on her, he jerked his head to JJ and smirked "shoot her" he said smugly handing Melissa a gun "or i'll kill your daughter"
You looked over at JJ but she shook her head to indicate that she'll be okay.
"Come on, she's got nothing to do with this, okay? just let her go" JJ begged.
"Shoot her" he screamed, the gun inching more toward Melissa's face.
"Casey, she's not a part of this, okay? you have no reason to hurt her, just let her go" JJ's begs came out more of a demand, you couldn't even look at her, your eyes focusing on everything except from the woman you had secretly loved who was about to die.
Casey ripped the gun out of Melissa's hands and walked over to JJ, the gun shoved into JJ's chest and he gripped her hair tightly to stop her from getting away, you leaned over slightly to heat the conversation better.
"I wasn't talking to you" Casey seethed, his hand still gripped onto her hair, he tugged again and let her go, he got up and made his way over to Melissa's daughter and pulled her up, flinging her over to the other side of the room as she landed on a mirror.
You leaned around the corner to see if she was okay, when you felt a gun press to the middle of your forehead "do not move"
Casey screamed at you, too afraid to say anything you nodded as tears streamed down your face "new deal" she walked backwards still keeping eye contact with you as he gripped onto Melissa's bicep and swung her around to face him "now you need to kill one of these two" you turned to JJ who had her eyes focused on the floor, her eyes glassy, as she turned to you for a split second to turn back away.
Melissa took a deep breath and scanned the room "who's it gonna be?" Casey asked, her gun already pointing at JJ.
"Please, I don't wanna do this" she begged
"Focus, Melissa" he demanded.
"Judge, you got to decide, that's what you do right?" her gun now pointing at you "decide, life or death, with the flick of your gavel"
She was about to shoot you when the phone rang, it scaring everyone "answer it, Casey answer it"
"Shut up" he rolled his eyes at you and focused his attention back onto Melissa "Pull the trigger" he demanded, the telephone still ringing, he ripped the telephone cord so it was cut off "focus Melissa" JJ glanced over towards you, it was evident now that JJ was scared, she looked terrified and you couldn't do anything about it "pull the trigger" Casey demanded once more.
"Casey" JJ quickly spoke up, you turned her head to face her "if Melissa won't play..."
she balanced on her knees and sat up "I will" she said slowly standing up, your eyes followed her as she was fully stood up "truth or dare, that's your game, right? I'll play" she shrugged.
"Melissa, the weapon. NOW" you knew that he wanted JJ dead and you also knew that neither you or JJ could do anything about it.
"Casey" you spoke softly as he quickly turned towards you with the gun in his hands" I know what it's like to be wrongly accused"
Casey walked next to JJ and circled around her "okay, agent..." he waited for JJ to introduce herself.
"Jareau" JJ finished.
"Agent Jareau... truth or dare" he smirks.
"Truth" she whispers and you roll your eyes and reached out for the broken glass to cut myself free from earlier.
"If I think you're lying or stretching out the truth, in the slightest, I'll kill her" his gun now pointed at me.
"yeah" she whispered.
"You ever shoot anybody before?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes I have" JJ answered honestly, not being able to look him in the face.
"You enjoy it?" he smirked.
"No" JJ shook her head and closed her eyes in shame.
"LIAR" he screamed shooting at me, barely missing my arm slightly, as I screamed slightly.
JJ hid her face away from the gun and then turned to face me panicking to check if I didn't get hurt, her breath shaking "no no no, I'm not lying, ok I'm not lying, the people I shot I had no choice, but I did NOT enjoy it I didn't" she stammered "okay you asked and I told the truth, okay, I told you the truth" she said whilst I was still working through the duct tape with the glass "so now it's my turn, right?" she said sternly "that's how this game's played, we take turns." she stopped to take a breath "truth or dare?" her breath less shaky.
"Truth" he nodded his head in anticipation.
"What's it gonna take for all of us to walk out here alive, for this to end peacefully?" a hint on concern in her eyes.
"I ain't going back to prison" the gun still on her "my turn truth or dare?"
"Truth" JJ replied.
"I want you to say something you're afraid to say, that you'd never tell anybody and you better make it good, cause if it's not, it's gonna be the last thing you ever say, what's it gonna be?"
JJ's shoulders shook and she took a breath "there are only four people in trust in this world"
"Boring" he mocked as he shot Melissa's leg "NEXT!" he demanded to hear something better.
"Um... my.." she shook her head, it was evident that she hadn't really told anyone the story she was about to tell, she hadn't really told anyone that she trusted nevermind a complete stranger "my baby I lost. I um.. mmm" she grunted "I wanted to name her Maggie" tears came out slowly, her eyes focused on the floor as she was too afraid to look anywhere else.
"WRONG" he shouted in her face "come on, you can do better than that"
"Casey" you interfered.
"SHUT UP" his gun now on me.
"Okay okay okay" JJ said as he grabbed her shoulders and slammed her back down on her knees.
"Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner here, your deepest darkest secrets, impress me or I kill her"
She looked over at me apologetically and I looked at her back with a furrowed brow.
"COME ON" Casey shouted.
"Y/N/N, um" you could tell she was holding back sobs "Ive always loved you" you scanned her face for a hint of deception but there wasn't any, the woman you had loved for 10 years just admitted to loving you, your head started to hurt "and I was just too scared to say it before" she carried on, she was crying, sobs echoing throughout the building "and now things are just really too complicated to say it now"'she was right, now with a husband and two children, even though you still loved her, you couldn't tell her to divorce Will and leave her children that would be way to idiotic.
Your lip quivered as this conversation was actually happening, you wanted this conversation but 10 years ago, it was far to late now.
"You" he turned to you with a gun "truth or dare?"
"Um.." your lip quivered and your hands shaking "dare"
"Kiss her" he laughed.
"What did you say?" you looked up at him, your mouth open.
"You heard me, kiss her" he laughed again.
You looked over at JJ who nodded, signaling that it was okay to do so, she shuffled towards you and you kissed her, it was everything you imagined but you knew that you weren't going to be the same after this.
"I'm sorry" she exhaled loudly "but you should know" you gave her a gentle smile, her sound the same.
"Hot damn, that's what I'm talking about, now those are some last words right there, but not good enough to save your life"
Too distracted by the gun, what he didn't see was you pulling out yours and you shouting him you and JJ watched in awe as his body fell between you.
JJ stood there, both of you in silence as you cut JJ free, she turned to you slowly "Y/N I'm so sorry, I should’ve told you sooner" she gave you a tearful look, hiding it behind a smile.
"Don't" you stopped her with a hug.
All of a sudden, agents bursts through the door, JJ turned around suddenly "we need an ambulance, ever got three down, three have been shot" you watched JJ walk over to Melissa, JJ bent down and started untying her "hang in there, okay? help is on its way" you smiled slightly, the thing that you loved most about JJ was her altruistic response to almost everything, she would always make sure that everyone else was okay and checked out and safe, before she would even check to see if she had any bruises.
When you were out and all both of you had a medical checkup, you walked over to JJ in the bullpen as she was setting down her briefcase "hey you" you walked over to her and sat on her desk.
"Hi honey" she smiled as she carried on unpacking her things.
"Did you mean it? what you said in there?" you stuttered, picking at your fingers, not wanting to hear the answer.
"Y/N" JJ looked up at you "I have a husband and kids, I have Will, I-" she started.
You looked up at her "but did you mean it?" you questioned.
JJ nodded slowly "yeah" she whispered.
"JJ if it's any consolation, I felt the same way" you smiled "pathetically for a long time" you shrugged at the latter of the sentence, you and JJ laughed slightly
"You did?" JJ said shockingly.
You nodded slowly "Since that girls night, where you said you would kiss someone at worked and looked at me" you laughed, JJ returned your answer with a puzzled expression "you were so drunk, I just assumed you didn't remember it the next day" you shrugged once more "never brought it up again" you smiled pushing yourself up to jump of JJ's desk.
"I've always loved you too JJ" you smiled and hugged her.
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Hi. (Tw for bus crash, quite bad injuries, self harm, feeling depressed and mention of death)
Three days ago me, my friends and a bunch of other teenagers were on a skiing camp. We were 170 people so when we were going home we needed three buses. Me and my friends plus some other strangers decided to pick the last bus, and two of my other friends (that I had gotten to know when we were on the camp) took the second bus. Everything was going fine until people began talking about the second bus crashing. I didn’t really believe everything they said because no one seemed to be reacting or anything, but then we arrived to where the bus had crashed and I was so horrified to see it. The bus was entirely on its side in a ditch and you could see on the road where the bus driver had tried to stop the bus. It had rained the day before and it was so cold that the road had frozen, you could barely walk without falling. We had to park in the middle of the road behind the other bus and we saw everything except when the bus crashed and I’ve never been more scared in my life. We saw how they had to break the windows to carry people out, that one person was unconscious, how many ambulances, ambulance helicopters, police cars and fire engines there were. I texted my two friends that were in the bus but only one of them answered almost immediately and he said that he was okay, just scared. But one of them didn’t answer and I just remember feeling so helpless and I remember feeling panic in my whole body. I was so scared. After an hour she answered and she said that she was also okay, just in shock. We sat there and looked at the situation for two or three hours and so many people were crying, including me. I could barely breathe. After maybe one and a half hours, the adults in our bus told us some information. They said that only one person was severely injured, and others had crushed fingers and cuts from the glass, but it was fixable. The police and other “important” people decided that we could move, and we had to drive past the bus and I remember not being able to breathe when we began moving. And I remember looking at the bus that had crashed and seeing how incredibly damaged it was. It was so disturbing to see. I could also see some of the people that had made it out of the bus and the way they were crying was absolutely heartbreaking. After many people were sent to the hospital, we were able to drive again and I could barely breathe at first. I was so tired but I was too scared to sleep and I kept thinking: “What if we also crash? What if we die?” We were thankfully fine and we got home as okay as you could. But it was so traumatic to watch and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get on a bus again. I also feel so guilty because I wasn’t even the one who was in the accident. I’ve cried so much because of this and I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel more depressed than I already did and yesterday I relapsed with my self harm. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay after this again. How will I ever be able to go on a bus again? How will I stop feeling guilty? And how should I cope? I’m so traumatized and I really don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry if this is messy and I understand if this is hard to answer. Thank you in advance.
Hi anon,
I'm so sorry to hear about what happened. I'm glad that you and your friends are alright, but you have every right to be traumatized by this.
It's important to let yourself feel any emotions that may be coming up for you. Allowing those feelings to take space can help you process your trauma. You don't have to talk about what happened but of course you may find it therapeutic and so you may benefit from talking about it in other support spaces as well.
At your own pace, allowing other events and activities to take place can help you move forward from this, and fill your present life with more positive experiences. It may help to make a list of things you enjoy and set some time every day to do those things, even if it means going to a paint and sip or festival occasionally. You'll eventually learn how to balance "normal" life and grief (this is not easy, I'm still actively learning this).
I definitely recommend looking into getting a therapist if that is affordable or accessible for you. That would be one of the best ways to work through and heal from this. There all different kinds of therapy out there that you could try, though talk therapy is most common. There's also art therapy, dance therapy, EMDR, and other practices that could prove useful for you. If you don't already have a therapist or aren't sure where to look, I recommend Psychology Today (if you're in the US, I'm not sure if it's available in other countries).
Ultimately, it's vital to take care of yourself during this time. Practice self-care, treat yourself to things, be gentile and patient with yourself, and remind yourself that you have time to process this.
I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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booksandwords · 2 years
Text
Upside Down by N.R. Walker
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Read time: 3 Days Rating: 5/5
The quote: "All I want really big and rock-hard on a guy is his IQ, and what I consider to be hardcore porn is a picture of a guy reading a book with a hard cover. Soft-core porn is a paperback, and browsing Amazon is my version of PornHub, okay?" — Jordan O’Neill
Warnings: homophobia, acephobia, debatably sexual assault (main character, past relationship)
Most of this review is just my fave quotes from the book. 🥰 It is a joy when one of your favourite writers writes about your people, and these really are my people. Importantly for that, I guess, this is set in Australia, using our language though not to the extent that it would be illegible to others. It is worth noting that Hennessey and Jordan both have darkness in their pasts pertaining to previous romantic relationships, family and their dual asexual and gay identities. So warnings for homophobia, acephobia, debatably sexual assault. Look he claims it was consensual, but it was far from enthusiastic consent and it upset me, as was the point.
One of the two protagonists, Jordan, feels like me or eerily similar to me in training. Jordan O'Neill is a librarian who works in the stunning Surry Hills Library in Sydney's inner suburbs, he comes across as slightly clumsy, swears A LOT and most importantly he's a baby ace. He's at first trying to figure out if he is asexual and if he can be comfortable wearing that label along with his others (including gay) then he starts trying to reconcile his attraction to Hennessy with his ace-ness. You cannot read this if you cannot take harsh language. Jordan loves to swear. His favourite word is motherfucker. There is the rather memorable passage "Motherfucker, motherfucker, mother-fucking-fucker. I’m so stupid. I felt awful. My stomach was in knots, my heart was aching, my mind was a motherfucking mess." (Jordan). He swears when he's excited, swears when he's stressed, swears when he's sad. I like it, it suits him, it suits a young Australian. I mean he even swears at work, much to the chagrin of his manager. Jordan is gorgeous, he makes me smile. I love his constant swearing and anxiety. Hennessy is just sweet and knows how to handle Jordan and his anxiety well. Their relationship is just sweet, that soft flirting on a bus and their funny audience. Hennessy Lang is just sweet, known at first as Headphones Guy, then Hennessy the Headphone Guy. Hennessey runs an aspec support group and catches the same bus as Jordan every day. He works as a network security expert, honestly, it sounds kinda fascinating. Hennessey is so self-assured and feels not worldly per se but confident in guiding and helping others on their aspec journey. He's a comfortable character, he feels so different to Jordan while definitely on the same wavelength. But Hennessey doesn't feel as I don't know unique maybe as Jordan, I certainly don't relate to him on the same level. Overall Theirs is a sweet story of coming to terms with yourself, your identity, your limitations and how to be yourself with someone else.
The support cast. The Soup Crew are quite possibly the funniest wider supporting cast I've read in a long time. If they don't make you laugh I'm not sure anything will. Honestly, I think I've almost been those people. Jordan summed them up in one line "So God help me. The Soup Crew really were a bunch of weird and wonderful motherfuckers.". The idea of Hennessy and Jordan's relationship creating friendships among their supporters is a good one. Anyone who catches the same public transport at the same time on a regular basis knows the sensation of hey it's you. And has possibly seen people change over time. I know people watched me grow up when I was catching the bus daily for school. I know this because people commented on it when I was in my final days of year 12 and later 'haven't seen you in a while, how is life post high school', also regular horn honks from bus drivers while I'm walking. Other than them and more important than them in many ways are Merry Jordan's best friend and work colleague, Angus his housemate and Michael Hennessey's friend and colleague. These three all want what is best for their respective person. Even if they have doubts about the other party there is both trust and a want to defend their soft souls. Merry in particular threatens Hennessey with violence more than once if he dares hurt Jordan. Micheal is the poly rep with his wife whom we do meet albeit a little briefly. Angus, Angus is something like a brother to Jordan. But he is very, very odd. He needs to be read to be experienced.
Some of my fave quotes and comments on them
“We see repeatedly, we’re told repeatedly, it’s shown, it’s implied, it’s blatant that sex equals love. That we’re not complete without it. That sexual intimacy is the pinnacle of all relationship goals.” — (Hennessey) This with a tone of slight disappointment, and frustration. But an absolute mood for my aspec sibs. We've all had a moment of exasperation while trying to explain that this whole thing is bullsh*t.
“There’s a difference between normal behaviour and normalised behaviour,” Nataya said. “Normal is subjective. And by whose definition should we fit anyway? Do we take normality from people like my grandma who is horrified by just about everything we see on the internet, or do we take normality from guys who think it’s normal and completely okay to send dick pics to people they’ve never met?” — (Nataya) It is that first line that is critical to real-life and aces know that better than most. But while the first line has the most highlights in the book, I wanted to include the whole thing. The full quote explains the first line.
"I didn’t want to admit the asexual thing to myself for a long time, and I’m thinking it will take some getting used to. Like breaking in a pair of Doc Martens, ya know? Like they’re uncomfortable and tight and basically kill your feet until they’re the most comfortable shoes you’ll ever wear. They become like a second skin, and I’m pretty sure this whole asexual thing will be like that.” He made a thoughtful face. “I like that analogy.” — (Jordan and Hennessey) I too really like this analogy. I've had to come to terms with my aspec identity and all the things it means, more the cultural milestones losses, the broader implications and I have broken in Doc Martens too. Yeah, they kinda feel like the same thing.
And his eyes when I admitted it wasn’t music I was listening to… well, his grey-coloured eyes melted like silver, warm amber with hints of blue and green. And he smelt really good, and his nervous rambling was kinda cute. — (Hennessey) This about Jordan, I mean obvs. It's the description of his eyes they are gorgeous and this is a helluva way to describe them. And Hennessey is the analytical of the two, not the more creative one. Though there is creativity in what looks a lot like white hat hacking when he talks about it.
“Thanks. I like to add a little colour to an otherwise drab uniform.” “It matches, every day,” I said. “Of course it does.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m gay. Of course it fucking matches.” — (Jordan and Hennessey) I unashamedly love Jordan. It's Jordan that adds colour to his uniform every day, brightly coloured scarf and shoes, coordinated perfectly with his jacket. They always match and some of the colours are outrageous. But it was the last line that made me laugh... out loud... on the train.
“Sarcasm is in the self-help section, by the way.” “Self-help?” "Yes, so you can pull your head out of your own arse.” I barked out a laugh. “Are you always so funny?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s a fine line between comedy and horror. It could go either way.” — (Jordan and Hennessey) We do a love library/ Dewey Decimal joke. This is basically
“She’s the best. She knows how to deal with me.” “Which is…?” “Well, that depends. She either tells me to pull my head out of my arse and stop being such a dick, or she talks me back from the ledge. It totally depends on what I need more, which she seems to know better than me. And I work at the library.” — (Jordan and Hennessey) This about Merry. Merry is the best friend Jordan could ask for. We see her build him up, we see her talk him off the ledge and it's her that encourages him to push his limits, push through his discomfort for his betterment.
“Was that during one of my nervous ramblings, because you can probably disregard anything and all I ever say when I’m like that.” I chuckled. “I think it might be the opposite. I think the filter comes off and you say what’s really on your mind.”
I chuckled. “I think it might be the opposite. I think the filter comes off and you say what’s really on your mind.” — (Jordan and Hennessey) To this point I hadn't picked up on this point of Jordan's ramblings. Hennessey is transparent with Jordan and intuitive. Hennessey shares his insights with the audience
“It’s like a treehouse,” I whispered. Jordan grinned. “Isn’t it awesome?” “Pretty sure whoever designed this was a reader or someone who really loved books.” — (Hennessy and Jordan) Surry Hills Library is library p*rn, it's fu**ing stunning. Thank God it's not "architecturally designed" as is the joke made in my library technician TAFE course (Fiona if you do ever read this Laura and I have never forgotten those moments). Or designed by committee which is even worse. Basically, the libraries and spaces designed by architects (without consultation with library staff) are horrendous and usually borderline impractical. I'm wondering if this might be where NR Walker does her writing and research. I really want to go there now. I guess I'll add it to my library tour bucket list. I've got half a chance I only live 12hrs away, I go back to Sydney one day.
"And about the breed of bird you made up, do they look like puffins? Because they’re the cutest bird I’ve ever seen. You know, if one was curious.” “If one was curious, they’d be pleased to know the Australian Pygmy Puffin is far cuter than the Atlantic Puffin. Like all Australian animals, they look adorable but are either venomous, poisonous, or just total jerks.” “The Pygmy Puffin?” I asked, smiling. “Yes. Small fluff balls, incredibly rare. There are three rules when handling them: One, no bright light. Two, don’t get them wet. And three, never feed them after midnight, no matter how much they beg.” — (Hennessey and Jordan) Okay I lost it at this exchange. There is context but do you really need it? This is kinda where their conversations go off into wonderland.
“He quoted Lewis Carroll,” I tried to say, but it was barely a squeaky breath. “Oh, Jesus,” she whispered. Her eyes went from my phone to me, then back again. “So that’s it then. I’ll start planning the wedding.” — (Jordan and Merry) Merry is bestie goals. This kind of dry deadpan humour is key to her.
“Ask him why we send something by car and call it shipment but send stuff by ship and call it cargo? Or why do our feet smell and our noses run? Or why the number eleven isn’t pronounced onety-one? Is Disneyland a people trap operated by a mouse?” — (Rachel) Another quote where there is context to do with philosophical questions prompted by "Why isn’t cereal considered to be or called a soup?" and “Do you think maths is something we invented or something we discovered?” from Jordan. This is Rachel's sense of humour. Also, all three questions just made me think. I couldn't help it.
I’m no expert in art, but I know books, and there is such a misconception about what genre people prefer. I don’t give a fuck what people read, as long as they read. From manga to gardening books, it doesn’t matter, and why people scoff at romance, I’ll never know. Because isn’t it a beautiful thing? Romance, that is. People wanting a happy ending. How is that ever wrong? — (Jordan) I have no words for this other than it speaks to my librarian soul.
“Celebrity you’d love to meet?” “Percy Shelley but I’ll need a priest, a Ouija board, and the blood of a chicken.” — (Hennessey and Jordan) Just what??
Oh, and your questions earlier. My tattoo is the Marvel Avengers’ A, you know, but in black, grey, white, and purple, like the ace flag. Kind of like my superhero shield. — (Hennessey) I love this tattoo so much. And I like the idea of mixing our flag colouring and a beloved fandom iconography. I would so do this with the dagger I've wanted for years.
“Like I said before, desire and attraction are not the same thing. To experience sexual desire does not make someone less asexual than someone else. Asexual people can engage in sexual pleasure. It doesn’t make them any less asexual. Sometimes our bodies betray our minds, and it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you. Your asexuality is still valid.” — (Hennessey) This is from an extensive passage or series of passages from Hennessey about desire vs pleasure. In some ways because Jordan is such a baby-ace and Hennessey is his first real contact with the aspec community and a guide somewhat to him this makes sense. But what he really becomes is something of an educator to the reader, particularly readers who don't know much about what asexuality really is.
“Really? Dick jokes?” “Yes. Dick jokes. I’m asexual, not dead." — (Jordan and Hennessey) No comment. Just 🍆😆
In the interest of full disclosure any book that uses aspecs well, that explores asexuality gets an automatic five stars from me. We just need more representation. And Upside Down does explore asexuality well. That idea of coming to terms and adjusting to your new self and learning how to be that person with someone else. This has so much joy, power and representation. This is an Australian author going where so few dare to tread, with two ace protagonists and a setting in their own backyard. Better yet Hennessy and Jordan are fun, funny and written in a way that makes you just want them to be happy. Hopefully together but if with other people so be it. With an uber supportive and highly amusing support cast to boot. I really recommend this as a way to see a different world.
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formulazero · 3 years
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the fact that my pinned audio is circulating again reminded me that i have to finish the fe one hdhdhdhhd
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His Type
s7 msr | 1k words | ao3 | tagging @today-in-fic
It was Sunday night and Mulder and Scully were both on her couch, drinking beer and relaxing. Mulder was watching the basketball game on TV, while Scully read a medical journal, leaning against the arm of the sofa. Her legs were spread out so that her feet rested on his thigh and occasionally he would squeeze her arch, just to hear a little giggle. Scully was incredibly ticklish, a fact that Mulder was delighted to discover.
When a timeout was called, she nudged his leg.
“Mulder?” Scully prompted.
“Yes, my love,” he responded, eyes still focused on the TV.
“You have a type,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“A type?” he questioned. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about, maybe blood type? It would make sense since she was reading JAMA.
“Your type in women.”
At that Mulder looked over at her, still unclear about what she was asking. Her facial expression was completely neutral and gave nothing away. Sometimes Scully had a killer poker face - like now - and it always made his blood pressure increase because he was worried he did something to upset her. What was especially nerve-wracking was that Mulder had been involved in conversations like this before, with previous partners, and he knew that there could be landmines at every turn, just waiting for him to step on one with no warning. Though, thankfully, those kinds of mind games weren’t usually Scully’s style.
“My type in women,” Mulder repeated, before taking an extra long sip from the beer bottle to buy himself time. Was she referring to Diana? He thought they were past that whole situation.
Scully continued, “Well, I’ve met a few of your exes and they all look similar. Even the woman who thought she was a vampire had that look.”
“And what look is that?” Mulder wanted to know.
“Brunette, tall, leggy,” she easily ticked off on her fingers, like she had her whole hypothesis prepared well in advance.
“And bitchy,” she added under her breath, though Mulder decided to ignore that and fixated on something else.
“How do you even know what Kristen Kilar looked like?”
Scully shrugged, “I read the case file, Mulder. Her driver’s license was included. It also listed her height.”
“Well, how do you know she was ‘leggy’?” he demanded, putting air quotes around the word.
Scully just gave him a look. Fair enough, he thought.
“I never knew you looked at that,” Mulder commented, a little touched at her interest in what he was doing while she was gone.
“I read through all of the case files you worked on while I was missing. As soon as I got back. My mother told me a little about what it was like and I was worried about you, Mulder.”
This conversation had started out odd, but it was taking a pleasant turn. They had already talked about their feelings for each other and how far back they went, but it was nice to learn about how much she really did care about him, even in their second year working together. Scully should have been concerned about her own health after a three month abduction and coma, but instead was reading past case files to assess Mulder’s wellbeing. How did he get so lucky?
Because of this, he decided to throw her a bone:
“Okay, so I may have a type with some of the women I’ve dated,” Mulder conceded, “Though, I can assure you I never went out searching for women who looked like that. It just kind of happened.”
Mulder examined her face again for any insight into her thinking, but still came up empty so he decided to ask, “Scully, you’re not actually worried…”
He trailed off, couldn’t even bring himself to say the words ‘that I’ll choose someone else.’ The idea was completely preposterous.
Scully just smiled. “No, I’m not worried. I was thinking about us and past relationships and it suddenly occurred to me that I’m a deviation from the norm. I wanted to see what you would say. For all I know you could pull out a scrapbook with pictures of a bunch of past red-headed girlfriends.”
She said the last part completely seriously, but winked at him to show she was joking. Mulder rolled his eyes and pulled the magazine from her hands. It was his turn to ask some questions.
“Well, what about your type?”
“I don’t have a type,” Scully stated proudly. “You look nothing like my ex-boyfriends.”
Mulder tugged on her ankle. “I’m not talking about looks. Am I just another older man in authority to you? Are you going to leave me for Skinner?” he teased. They had recently discussed her past relationship history and she had admitted that several of her past partners had similar attributes.
She pulled her foot back and narrowed her eyes. “I told you that in confidence Mulder, not for you to use it against me! Anyway, you’re hardly older and you’re not in authority over me, so it doesn’t apply.”
“I think our birth certificates would beg to differ,” Mulder said with a laugh.
“Three years is nothing, Mulder.” Scully grabbed a pillow to throw at him, but he deflected it easily and moved over her body, playfully pushing her into the cushions.
He kissed the dip in between her clavicles and worked his way up her neck. He could feel her breathing change and he was pleased when her arms came around him to grip his shoulders.
“Really? No authority at all?” he asked with a smirk that she couldn’t see.
Before this went any further, Mulder wanted to set the record straight; he sat up so he could look down at Scully and make full eye contact. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her hair fanned out like a silk halo on the couch cushion and she looked up at him with big blue eyes, her face open and vulnerable
He gently cupped her cheeks and turned serious.
“You’re so beautiful. Not just in looks, but your mind too. There is no one else, past, present or future, for me. Except you. You’re my type.”
Scully was very still beneath him and didn’t say anything, but she pulled his hand from her cheek so she could kiss his palm and whisper “I love you” against his fingers. It wasn’t the first time he had heard those words but every time he felt his heart grow bigger. He would never get tired of it. Mulder moved his hand away so he could softly kiss her lips.
After a few kisses, Scully pushed him away.
“Mulder? I think maybe you can have a little authority over me,” she said with an eyebrow quirked. He was confused, until she rolled her hips suggestively underneath him and then Mulder understood immediately.
“Oh really?” he inquired, his hands inching up under her shirt to span her waist. “I’m in charge?”
Scully nodded, pupils starting to dilate. Her breath hitched as his hands moved farther up and he settled his hips more firmly against hers.
Oh he liked this idea a lot. Maybe having a type wasn't so bad...
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)
(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)
series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  
word count: 2.5k
warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall
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y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 
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caroldanvers 😍😍😍
flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry
1 HOUR AGO
He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.
The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  
Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors
You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver
Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau
Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.
He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.
‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  
Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  
‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 
Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 
However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  
Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(
a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 
He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol
I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!
Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.
she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together
He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry
Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.
You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”
“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”
“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.
“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”
Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”
“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”
He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.
“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.
“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.
“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”
“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”
He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.
"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.
"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"
"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."
“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.
“Always.”
//
Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.
“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.
He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.
“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”
Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.
“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’
“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.
“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”
“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”
“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.
“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.
Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.
“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.
“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”
“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”
“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.
Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”
“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”
“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 
“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.
The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.
“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”
“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 
You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.
“Probably,” you admitted.
His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”
“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”
“I don’t have anything to wear…”
You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”
“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.
“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”
“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”
“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”
He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”
“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”
“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  
“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked.
“If you want to,” you mitigated.
“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”
You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.
“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.
Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”
One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.
“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”
He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”
//
Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.
“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”
“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”
“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”
(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)
“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.
“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.
“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”
He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.
“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.
“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.
After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—
“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.
“Hey,” he returned.
“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.
“That was the plan.”
622 notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 3 years
Text
You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart
Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot
Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language
Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.
***
As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.
“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”
(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”
Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”
“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”
He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”
The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.
***
Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”
“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”
“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”
“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.
“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”
“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”
Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”
(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”
“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”
“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”
Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”
(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”
“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”
“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”
“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.
(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”
“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”
He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”
Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”
“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”
“Yeah. You painted that?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”
“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”
“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”
“Because of your job?”
“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”
Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”
“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”
“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.
“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”
“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”
(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”
“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.
“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”
He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”
“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”
Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”
(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”
Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”
At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”
(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”
Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”
“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.
“No shit, kid. What kind?”
(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”
Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”
“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”
“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”
“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.
“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”
“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”
He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”
“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”
“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”
“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.
“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”
“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”
Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”
“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”
The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”
“Bisexual.”
His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”
Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”
“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”
“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”
“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.
“What do you recommend?”
“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”
Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”
“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”
“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”
He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”
“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”
“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”
“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”
“You’re such a nerd.”
***
“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”
(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”
“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”
“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”
“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”
The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.
(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”
Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”
He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”
Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.
“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”
Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.
“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”
I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.
He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”
Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?
“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”
Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”
(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”
What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.
“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”
“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”
“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”
The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”
“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”
“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”
(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”
“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”
“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“I did not say that.”
“You did, but in more words.”
“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”
“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”
***
He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”
Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”
Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”
They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”
He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”
“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.
173 notes · View notes
wisteriasxx · 3 years
Text
a/n: had this in the drafts since tfatws finished streaming and I forgot to post it but here haha
18+
Warnings: Weed, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex
Smoke sesh with Marvel characters 🍃
this one is for all my stoner marvel fans💕 just my thoughts on what it would be like to smoke with some of our favs✨
———————————————————————
Steve
Well considering Steve is a super soldier, he can’t get drunk or high..........BUT for the sake of this let’s just pretend he can ;)
It would probably take loads of convincing for him to even try the stuff
If he decides to try it, he’s only taking one hit.
High Steve is definitely just super chill, and really cuddly, he’s gonna grab you and just hold you for the rest of the night.
When it comes time for munchies he will literally eat anything, but his favorite snack when the munchies hit is Mozzarella sticks.
He’ll start talking about how things were back in the 40’s, including how crazy the youth is today with this stuff you’ve just given him.
Tony
We all know that Tony is KNOWN for being a party animal, so he’s definitely down for a lil sesh with the avengers
Tony definitely likes to drink more then he would smoking, but he’ll still smoke.
Probably owns a dab pen with indica for for his anxiety
Prefers indica but will settle for a hybrid (sativa and indica)
Gets really giggly and even more sarcastic when he’s high
Will not move from his current place of rest, someone will have to bring him food when the munchies come or he will complain the entire time
Favorite munchies food is potato chips
High tony will definitely accidentally start spilling your secrets in front of people, you might have to physically shut him up somehow
Thor
Will give you a funny look when you hand him a joint or a pen or whatever it is that your using.
He’ll understand that you smoke it, but he’ll think it’s just tobacco or something
Before you can tell him what it actually is he’s already taken a couple of big hits
Once you tell him what it is that he’s smoking and what it does, the only response you’ll get is “this tastes funny and it will have no effect on me because I am mighty”
Fast forward to ten minutes later of Thor being loud and laughing at everything and just being an absolute goofball
Will eat and drink everything in sight once the munchies hit for him
“Where can I get more of this midgaurdian herb!??!!?!!” He’ll yell from the couch
Like Steve, he’ll get grabby and just wanna hold you the entire time. If you’re standing he’s gonna stand behind you with his arms wrapped around you and his chin resting on ur head. If you’re sitting he’s putting his arm around you and pulling you close.
Definitely ends with him passed out on the floor
Natasha
When she sees everyone playing “puff puff pass”, she’ll roll her eyes.
“What are you guys in high school or something?”
She will insist that she wants nothing to do with it, but after tony makes some remark about it, she decides to prove him wrong.
After a hit or two, Nat becomes more comfortable, she becomes less uptight.
Likes to shoot out more sarcastic one liners then usual
Becomes very flirty ;)
She gets smiley but in a tired way
In fact, She doesn’t stay awake very long after she’s had a hit or two in her system, she gets too tired and calls it a night
By “calls it a night” I mean she basically droops onto you and refuses to move, you’ll have to move her if you want to.
Doesn’t get the munchies because she’s asleep before she can
Clint
Clint will take a hit or two, just because why not? He could use the relaxation
He’s super chill when he’s high, he keeps to himself
He’s quiet when he’s high, but that’s just because he’s vibing, he’s taking in the music or just simply listening to the nearest conversation.
Wears sunglasses the whole time because he doesn’t want anyone to see his red eyes
He doesn’t really get munchies, he just chills the entire time
You can’t tell if he’s asleep or if he’s just vibing
Will only give one word answers if you ask him something
Not the most fun to smoke with but he’s just chilling and minding his own business so he’s welcome.
Loki
Will look at you with irritable confusion when you offer him a hit
When you tell him what it is and what it will do to him he’ll simply ask, “why would I want to do that?”
He won’t do it in front of anyone, that would mean letting his guard down and becoming vulnerable
He will definitely try it later in private though
When he’s high, he’ll want you to join him
He’s still basically loki when he’s high, he’s just more relaxed
“This is quite nice I must say.”
There will definitely be a conversation about how he can’t believe this is what mortals do for fun
He’ll become a little more open with you because he’s more relaxed
He’ll become confused when the munchies hit, but after you tell him it’s normal he’ll go with it
His favorite munchie food is definitely popcorn
I’m gonna flat out say it, high loki has a higher sex drive
Gets lost in the moment type of guy
In his opinion, the weed helps him block out everything else except for you, and that’s why he likes it
His mischief meter also skyrockets, you thought normal loki was good at pulling tricks? Just wait till you see how creative high loki can get
Bucky
Bucky is gonna look at you like your crazy
Then he’ll remember that he is also crazy, and figures the weed might help ease his mind a little.
Bucky becomes more relaxed when he’s high, his guard has dropped a little, but he’s still aware of his surroundings.
He’s funnier when he’s high 
Smiles more which makes you smile because you think he doesn’t smile enough
He still does the staring thing when he’s high, but it’s not as intimidating now, there’s a softer look in his eyes and a small smile on his face
Will open up a little more about his feelings towards you
After his first time trying weed, he’ll get some cbd gummies or something on a regular basis to help relax him
When the munchies hit for him, he’ll eat anything, but his favorite munchie food is anything Italian.
He just wants to cuddle man
Wanda
Wanda is surprisingly chill
She’s more open, more humorous, and even nicer.
her magic can resemble her current state of mind if she wants it to
So when she’s high, her magic becomes really pretty and elegant, like it’s in slow motion
In fact, she glows a little when she’s high
She’ll make her magic do pretty things for your entertainment
Due to her magic though, I feel that her high wouldn’t last very long
For her, smoking is just a quick little get away from her mind, something that just takes the edge off a little
Doesn’t get munchies
Prefers indica
Peter (quill)
He’s never had earth weed, but he’s definitely smoked and drank all kinds of substances through out the galaxy
Definitely likes sativa
He’s down for whatever, he likes to try new things
He’ll complain about the taste, but then love the way he’s feeling in 10 minutes
He becomes very stupid when he’s high
He’ll turn his favorite music on full volume and just start doing things, he won’t be able to sit still.
He’ll try to do things to keep himself entertained, but he’ll be bad at doing them because he’s high
When later or the next day comes when he’s sober, he’ll look at the evidence of him trying to do whatever it was he was trying to do and be totally confused, but not surprised
When the munchies hit, he’ll eat anything he can find on the ship that’s edible
It will end with him passed out in some weird spot on the ship or wherever he’s at
He once got high and woke up cuddling with Drax-
Gamora
Will not smoke
The designated driver
The “chaperone” of the night
Sam Wilson
When you offer him a hit, he’ll be unsure and say something like “man I haven’t done something this stupid since high school, I don’t know”
But he says “screw it” to himself and takes a couple of hits
Becomes really smiley when he’s high, like the dude won’t stop smiling. It irritates Bucky.
Definitely will start singing out of nowhere, even if there’s no music playing
He’s also gonna tell crazy stories about his past, things from high school stories to military stories
He livens up the session for sure, after a few hits in, he makes it his goal for the night to make everyone happy and vibing along with him
When the munchies hit for sam, he goes straight for pizza. This man absolutely loooovesss pizza when he’s inebriated
Dr.Strange
Is obviously familiar with the substance
Definitely used to do it all the time in college (helped with the stress of med school)
Will question if it’s the best choice for everyone to be making right now
Most likely will not do it, it wouldn’t look good if the sorcerer supreme was getting high
You’ll ask him if he knows some kind of spell that can sober you up
He’ll tell you “yes” and proceed to hand you a water bottle and roll his eyes
He’ll do the portal thing above you and a bunch of your favorite snacks will land on your lap when the munchies come
He’ll take care of you once you pass out, carrying you to your bed or your couch or whatever and setting a glass of water near you before he leaves you alone
Scott Lang
Oh yeah, he’s definitely taking a couple hits
Prefers bongs
Prefers hybrid blends (sativa and indica)
This man knows his kush okay? Would not be surprised if he had a plug, or if he was the plug
Weed makes him more productive, he’ll start doing things and multi tasking, he’ll do anything from messing around in the suit to playing rock band
Chinese take out is this mans go to munchie food, nothing brings him greater joy then inhaling wonton soup or lo mein when he’s high
He’s bringing his friends too, there’s no arguing
Like Sam, he livens the session up
Somehow become bolder, dumber and flirty at the same time when he’s high
When he comes down though, he comes down hard, and sometimes literally.
He’ll pass out or fall asleep in the weirdest places, but he’ll be enjoying it and wake up feeling well rested somehow
Bonus cuz i think it’s funny ++
John walker
Will be all cocky about taking a hit, thinking it won’t affect him or that it’ll make him cooler or something dumb
Gets scared and paranoid
Starts literally tweaking and saying stuff like “they’re coming for me”
Freaks out because he can’t handle the kush in his system
Definitely locks himself in the bathroom and cries, calls Lamar to come pick him up
Ends up becoming a hazard for everyone, so Bucky has to knock him out cold
Will probably snitch on everyone for smoking just because he had a bad time with it and he’s just jealous that he can’t vibe correctly
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tennessoui · 3 years
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FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.
ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me
but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!
(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)
Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.
She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.
“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.
A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.
“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”
Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.
“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”
He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”
He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.
“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.
“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”
Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.
There’s more than enough.
There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.
“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”
“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”
This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.
Shmi stares at him.
“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”
Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.
Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.
He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.
He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.
His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.
Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.
“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”
No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.
“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”
Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”
“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.
If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”
“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.
“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”
---
Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.
It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.
“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”
Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.
But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.
He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”
Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”
The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.
“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”
It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.
“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.
She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.
“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”
Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.
“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”
The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.
“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.
Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”
The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.
Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.
“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.
“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”
Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.
“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.
Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”
Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--
“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.
But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”
He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.
“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”
To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.
The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.
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elliesguitarstrings · 3 years
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Please do a Peter or Tom (you choose which guy) imagine where the reader always feels left out by the gang and the loneliness grows until one day she can’t take it anymore and tries to leave/move out. Peter/Tom find her and when both are confronted, it’s revealed that he and the rest only ignored her because of a rumor that she was just using them and it ends with feelings being confessed and a kiss please
i chose tom for this one bc i don’t get many requests for him!! sorry this is kinda shit because i’m feeling super under the weather from the covid vaccine but i tried my best 😖
~~~~~~~~
Living with Tom and his friends is a struggle. Not only are you the only girl in the household, but lately they’ve been leaving you out, and it seems like they don’t even want you in the house anymore.
When you first moved in, the boys would include you in their social media, Brother’s Trust events, and group outings. But now, they leave you out of their instagram lives and often go out without you.
This definitely does not go unnoticed by the fans. Over the past few months, you’ve seen rumors speculating that you’ve moved out all over social media. Normally, stupid stuff like this wouldn’t bother you, but the boys have done absolutely nothing to shut them down. In fact, none of them have even addressed it.
You’re eating alone tonight, the third time this week. Ever since covid restrictions were slightly lifted, the boys have been going to the pub almost every night. When you expressed that you still weren’t comfortable with going out, they just went without you, leaving you to spend many nights in the house by yourself.
After three glasses of wine, you’re starting to wonder, maybe you should just move out. The boys obviously don’t want you there and the fans already think you’ve left, so what would the difference really be? You’d miss them, sure, especially Tom, but you’d get over it. You check your phone, seeing that it’s only 10:30 pm. The boys won’t be back for at least another three hours, giving you plenty of time to pack the necessities and leave. You can pick up the rest of your stuff tomorrow night - they’ll most likely be out clubbing again anyways.
You stumble upstairs to your bedroom, grabbing a suitcase and opening it on your bed. You grab enough clothes and toiletries for a few days and quickly stuff them inside along with a few of your valuable items. In your drunken and flustered state, you don’t hear the front door open or Tom walking upstairs.
“Hey I heard you crying, is everything okay up here... what the fuck?” You spin around to see Tom at your door.
“Tom? What are you doing back so early? Where’s everyone else?”
“Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine are still at the pub, I forgot my wallet and I promised to pay tonight, so I came back here to pick it up.”
Before he can ask any questions about you, you slur, “You’re drunk, you shouldn’t be driving.”
“Designated driver, I haven’t had anything to drink.” Tom comments, “Can’t say the same for you though huh?” he looks worried.
You sigh, “Whatever. Can you just get your wallet and leave so I can get back to packing?” Shit. Why did you just say that?
“Packing? Why are you packing?”
Fuck it. You were planning on having a civil conversation about this when you were sober, but Tom’s here now, so why not? “I’m packing because I’m moving out. None of you guys want me here, and you always leave me out, so I’m leaving.”
Tom, being the sober one, tries to reason with you. “Y/N, of course we want you here! Why in the world would you think we wouldn’t?”
You start to raise your voice, “Because Tom, none of you ever invite me to shit, you always leave me out of your instagram posts and stories, and half the time you act like I don’t even live here! Plus, the fans think I’ve already moved out, so I’m just fulfilling their wishes!”
Tom sighs, obviously distressed, “Y/N, you can’t leave, you’ve gotta stay here. Please?”
“Why? Why should I Tom? Why shouldn’t I just pack up my stuff right now and leave?”
“Because I fucking love you!” Tom screams.
Your tone lowers to almost a whisper, his confession practically sobering you up, “You what?”
You and Tom have been close ever since his old makeup artist went on maternity leave, you replacing her. There’s always been something between you two, like subtle touches and playful flirting, but you never thought that your feelings would be reciprocated.
Tom buries his face in his face in his hands, “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just really need you to stay here, but now I’ve ruined everything and you’re definitely going to leave-”
You step closer and take his hands in yours, shutting him up by pressing your lips onto his soft ones. “I love you too.” you say quietly.
“I’m sorry for leaving you out,” he starts, his hands still intertwined with yours, “It really wasn’t our intention. We just saw a bunch of rumors saying that you were using us for money and shit, and obviously we know that’s not true. But we thought it would be better to get you out of the spotlight so the rumors would go away, or at least some of them would.”
“Tom, why didn’t you tell me? We could have all sorted it out together and we could have avoided this mess.”
He looks down, “I know, I’m sorry, we just didn’t want to worry you or anything. It was stupid.”
“It’s okay Tom. I know now, and it was a good effort. It’s actually really sweet that you thought to protect me like that.” you smile.
“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he grins cheekily.
You grin, “Depends, did you only say you love me just so I wouldn’t leave?”
Tom’s eyes immediately widen, “No, no, oh my god no! I’ve loved you for like, three years now, I-”
You shut him up with another kiss, this one longer. “Calm down, it was a joke. I know you love me, and I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”
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Text
modern!au random quirks headcanons for the aot veterans
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i’m back bitches with more brain rotting headcanons (if you want to see the ones for the 104th they’re here and if you think i should do some for the warriors then let me know!) - mac
masterlist
erwin smith:
erwin has the loudest fucking sneezes, like you jump out of your skin when he does it.
definitely texts with proper grammar and punctuation. never used an emoji in his life.
eats pizza with a knife and fork.
don’t ask him to take a picture of you. it will be blurry and his finger will be in the frame (why do all my headcanons make him sound like a grandpa lmao.)
doesn’t have spotify/apple music because he still listens to cds!! he’s got a massive collection of them hoarded in his house and car (don’t you dare put a cd in the wrong case unless you want to feel his wrath.)
levi ackerman:
he has every group chat he’s ever been invited to on mute. would only ever open them just to get rid of the notification bubble.
talks to children and babies like fully grown adults.
wears headphones even if he isn’t listening to music so strangers don’t disturb him.
levi’s also the master of untangling headphones, or anything that needs untangling for that matter (he’s petra’s go-to necklace untangler.)
paints his nails black and wears a few rings on each hand “because it will hurt more if i ever need to punch someone.” (“okay but the nail varnish??” “oh that’s just because i think it looks hot.”)
hange zoe:
never shuts up about conspiracy theories - even if they don’t believe them they’ll spend hours watching videos about them on youtube (“moblit did you know that beyoncé is part of the illuminati-” “go to sleep hange it’s 3am.”)
is double jointed and isn’t afraid to show people at the strangest of times (“hange no one at the store wants to see how you can twist your body into a pretzel!”)
refuses to go to a doctor unless they’re on the brink of death. not to mention they’re the most accident prone person on this planet (moblit suggested that they wrap them self in bubble wrap - they actually did it much to his dismay.)
has three cats with really human names if that makes sense?? probably called phil, sandra and dave.
will only eat cereal at night. they will refuse it for breakfast but will eat 3 bowls between 9pm and 11pm.
mike zacharias:
i saw this drawing once of mike doing woodwork and i have come to the conclusion that yes, he is a DIY husband! he makes gifts out of wood for his friends but he will also put together your IKEA furniture, fix your boiler and put up that shelf you’ve been meaning to put up for 8 months. he’s just the best.
go-to person if you ever can’t open a can or a lid. mike is undefeated when it comes to opening things.
he and erwin definitely got drunk and dressed up in drag (petra did the makeup and nanaba has pictures.)
cracks his knuckles like 5 times a day. if you ask him he’ll crack your knuckles for you.
is the person who will ask what drinks people want and make them for everyone (he’s a sweetheart.)
moblit berner:
definitely has a karaoke sesh every time he’s in the shower. hange has secretly recorded for blackmail purposes.
is that person who locks their car doors twice for good measure.
bought a pregnancy pillow because he likes to be comfy.
took a first aid course because he was sick and tired of hange burning them self every time they cooked dinner.
mixed a bunch of spirits together once and called it his ‘cocktail of death.’ he had to get his stomach pumped the very same night.
nanaba:
get her to braid your hair, she’s amazing at it. she can do really cool french braids and fish braids and it looks so pretty !!
definitely the ‘mom’ friend. always the designated driver (okay but imagine nanaba having to put up with a drunk erwin and mike that’s so funny - “erwin did i ever tell you that i fucking love you so much?” “oh mike, buddy, i love you too.” “okay lovebirds it’s time for bed.” )
bakes a lot and makes the best fucking brownies and cakes ever. every weekend she will bake and bring whatever she makes into work on monday and everyone loves her for it.
can fall asleep anywhere. mike once found her asleep on the floor next to her bed because she was too tired to get into the bed itself.
has a knack for interior design. knows what looks good and what matches. her house looks like an IKEA showroom.
petra ral:
okay but why can i see petra going to zumba twice a week?
snorts when she laughs. she’s also got that kinda laugh that makes you laugh yourself so you just spend 10 minutes laughing for no reason.
wears cute dangly earrings all the time. always got the perfect manicure too (”just in case i need to scratch oluo’s eyes out for looking at my ass for the tenth time today.”)
you know when you walk past a stranger and get a whiff of their scent and it’s like, really nice? yeah, petra is that stranger.
organises the birthday cards and secret santa for her friends and workplace every year.
oluo bozado:
probably drives just over the speed limit because he thinks he’s cool (until he gets pulled over and given a ticket lmao.)
drenches every meal in mayonnaise. doesn’t season his meat either (disgusting.)
won’t open doors for people unless he thinks they’re attractive.
obnoxiously yawns loudly and probably chews with his mouth open (apologies to oluo fans, i just see him as being super fucking annoying ahahah.)
cuts the crusts off his sandwiches. also refuses to eat the crust on pizza.
gunther schultz:
made an instagram for his dogs. doesn’t even have a personal instagram, he just wants the world to see how cute his dogs are.
if you’re on a roadtrip, pass gunther the aux cord, he’s got the best taste in music.
always wins card games - from poker to UNO, he will always win.
has loads of old gaming consoles for nostalgia purposes. he is unbeatable on smash bros and mario kart, don’t even attempt to challenge him - you will lose.
such a good cheesy party dancer. pulls out the moonwalk and the robot every time.
eld jinn:
always wearing plaid?? does he own anything else? We will never know.
gives everyone head pats and fist bumps.
will do that really annoying thing where he goes ‘what’s that on your shirt’ so you look down and he flicks your face with his finger.
touches the top of the door frame every time he walks through one.
if anyone ever asks him to do something, he responds with ‘yes chef’ (and on that note, watches loads of gordon ramsey. quotes him at least 6 times a day - including calling oluo an ‘idiot sandwich.’)
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
Text
Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 
(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).
Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.
In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil
“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”
Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).
“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”
The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.
But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.
“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”
Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”
“My what?”
“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.
“Huh?”
“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”
He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.
“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”
Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....
“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”
He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.
“Listen, you - “
“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”
“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”
Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.
“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”
The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 
For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.
Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 
“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”
She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.
He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.
“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”
His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.
He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”
Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”
“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”
“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?
Jason sighed gustily. 
“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”
The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.
“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”
Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”
He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.
“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.
She ignored him, because of course she did. 
“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.
“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”
Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.
“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”
She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?
“What’s this all about anyway?”
“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”
Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.
“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.
“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”
She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.
“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”
Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.
Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.
“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”
Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.
“What are you doing?” Cass asked.
“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?
“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”
Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.
“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”
She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.
“What?”
Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 
“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”
“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”
Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”
Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.
“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.
“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”
Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.
“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”
Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 
TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?
TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.
TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.
TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?
TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.
TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.
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formulatrash · 2 years
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hi Hazel, I know you're a journalist, but I hears you have done socials before? do you have any tips on how to get a foot in the door with motorsport socials or broader communications without prior connections? seems like there's so many young girls on twitter who are trying and that's a bit discouraging. there aren't that many roles, are there? :((
hello,
yeah, I worked in social media for a few years between journalism gigs (I sort of thought it might be what I wanted to do but honestly: no)
there are a lot of jobs in motorsport social media. we see primarily the ones for the big F1 teams or whatever but of course that’s not where a lot of people start and for instance, most sponsors will want social content related to the team they work with over a race weekend, even within the F1 environment. and of course, across media there are lots of sports social media jobs including F1 and then the championship itself. then when you think across wider motorsport like endurance and junior categories and Formula E and IndyCar.... there are a lot more roles than you’d think. oh and then the broadcasters... you get the idea, there’s a bunch of places.
idk how much NDA-bustoing trouble I’m likely to get in for saying this but I used to work for a supplier to an F1 team and then for the championship itself on social stuff. prior to that, I’d worked on social for Netflix and the BBC, so I wasn’t coming in as a rookie, which certainly helped. for the past two years I was also the racefanslive livetweeter, although I’m not anymore.
social media takes the form of lots of things, now. so you need to decide what aspect of the job you want to work in; are you a graphic designer, someone who can put together genius TikToks, someone who can present on social, copywriter, a producer, a strategist, etc? 
some roles will require you to be an all-rounder and it’s good to have basic skills across it all but when you’re looking to develop a portfolio, that’s something to think about. do you have a TikTok full of awesome bits of presentation? can you make a show reel? are your gifs and edits super beautiful? are you an illustrator, you get what I mean.
one of the reasons “getting into social” can seem hard is because “getting into social” is about as vague as “getting into F1″ - like what, you’re gonna be a driver or a mechanic or? likewise, you need to work out what you want to do and then show that you can do it.
a good way to gain experience is by, basically, doing some stuff. I realise that sounds incredibly stupid but basically: start making things you think you’d like to make for a job. you don’t need to do a ton, just put a few bits together, put it on a professional instagram as reels and posts and saved stories and so you’ve got somewhere to point to if you get an opportunity, to say what you can do.
Twitter is less useful, professionally speaking but it’s also worth, for instance, making an account and doing some basic, clear livetweeting of a specific event. let’s say the Rome Eprix because I don’t livetweet F1 but I can talk about livetweeting FE. 
one of the worst things people do with livetweeting is either decontextualised information (”Ricciardo has come into the pits” ok but when and why) or unclear information that doesn’t fit the character limit. I don’t think I’m very good at a lot of social stuff anymore but I am really good at livetweeting (I used to do so much of it, professionally speaking) and so I am gonna use myself as an example here. here’s my thread from the first time the format was run - it’s pretty simple because I didn’t have any imagery but it gets across the information you need about what cars are through and who’s beaten who. that’s a skill worth practicing and also something it’s worth showing you can do, when you’re applying for roles.
beyond that it’s a case of making sure you keep your eyes open for opportunities. whether that’s getting involved with formulastudent and becoming a producer for the teams or just going out and making content, having a portfolio is incredibly important. then keep watch on things like Motorsport Jobs (you can set up a job alert) and follow and pay attention to people at agencies that work in motorsport, so that you’re aware of opportunities coming up. that’s places like Influence Associates, Re:Volution, Crunch, Veloce, Edelman, 115dgrs, etc.
also I know everyone thinks Tumblr content is for some reason verboten but if you make good memes on here that aren’t too obscene, for the love of god put them in your portfolio. if you make beautiful, hi-res gifs and clips then for the love of god put them in your portfolio. your edits? portfolio. some of the highest-quality and most standout work in motorsport is on here with people hiding it - ok, don’t send in your explicit fanart or whatever but there are so many beautiful edits on here which would look so immediately eye-catching to a team or broadcaster.
if you message me off anon I can reply privately with a friend who runs an motorsport social media agency and often has entry-level work going/would be willing to offer experience. she always pays, although it may only be sporadic work at first. 
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withallthingslove · 3 years
Note
Do you think Nick is a true believer in Gilead?
No, I think it’s been established that he is not. It’s pretty obvious that he was a young out of work man trying to support his family in a country that had a dying economy, got recruited by a cult when he was at his lowest point, and as a result he got swept up in said cult. 
That said, this absolutely does not excuse his actions for whatever he did with the SOJ, as a person is still responsible for the results of their actions regardless of what their intentions were. But it does explain them. 
In flashbacks we go from nick being recruited to him being a driver for established commanders as they are deciding how they want to run their new country. So there is a ton of stuff we don’t see, including nick’s role in the attacks and the take over. 
But what I think is also important is how the SOJ rose up before the attacks... when june is at the boston globe she finds a ton of newspaper clippings and audio recordings about how the SOJ bettered communities... think of christian-infused after school programs, community service, etc. Those types of things would not be alarming, and would hypothetically improve people’s lives even if enforcing religion is attached to it. 
I would bet that for a time, nick was probably a true believer in that at first the SOJ improved his life by getting him a job, so he was a happy member and had a community that was a support system for the first time in a long time. Which is why he did not quit, because to some extent he was “radicalized” until he was in too deep and in over his head without a way to get out. 
But when we see nick in the present day, he is clearly not a true believer, and instead he is just doing his best to survive: 
he became an Eye to try and take down commanders in a “if I’m stuck in this regime I can at least try to make the worst people that are part of it pay” way
pretty much anything he does that involves june (warning her about her interrogation, helping her escape, getting the letters out, etc)
he doesn’t report eden for cheating and when she gets caught his first instinct is to come up with a bunch of different lies to protect her from “them” (the Gilead system) and get her out of her execution 
when june tries to convince him to talk to the swiss (which people like to pretend that he didn’t try and talk to them, but he did), he tells her 1) not to get in bed with the govt because of his own experience getting trapped 2) that the swiss don’t give a shit about “us.” When he says this he isn’t saying the swiss don’t care about the people of gilead, he means the swiss don’t care about him and june as individuals and their interests, showing at his core he doesn’t think of himself as part of Gilead
I would love it if nick was more involved with the resistance up front, and obviously his past actions are troubling and when you look at history, someone “just following orders” does not excuse doing terrible acts. But I also think it is obvious that he is not a true believer and should not be compared to serena and fred
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Heuj valves, you know what I'm here for, go on. Make us a story dolly >:)
-cursed
Okay, in case you guys haven’t been around for like, the past day or two, let me explain. This is involving Bill Sykes, the villain of the movie ‘Oliver and Company’. Cursed came out of nowhere, showed me this man, and he has LITERALLY kept me up all night last night. I’m tired, majorly horny, and I hate this big, BIG man so much. Let’s go. (Also side note first attempt writing him, I'm trying)
Money. Money was a thing that made the world go round. It was something everyone wanted, something everyone would fight tooth and nail to get. Some people had nothing, and some had far too much. Like Sykes. Sykes had so much money, through brute force, through cunning, through anything and everything unsavory. And with so much money, came with the ability to have SO much power, of which he abused. If he wasn’t taunting people with how much money he had, he was luring more people in with his classic charm. As evil as he was, no one really seemed to see it at the beginning. They saw an older, rather likeable man. It was why no one blinked twice when he walked into the clothes store. If anything, he was welcomed, especially by the man behind the counter.
“Mr.Sykes! Just on time! Ever the punctual man! I got your new suit in!”
“Good, good. You’re one of the few in this city that DOESN’T disappoint me.”
“I should hope not, you’re my best customer! Speaking of, can I be daring enough to offer you a new set of shoes?”
“Wasn’t looking for a new pair, but what the hell.”
Sykes let him be walked to the counter. He JUST so happened to be on the counter next to some lady. Pretty thing, honestly. She somehow didn’t notice him, and pushed a handbag across the counter.
“Hey, I didn’t see a tag on this. Can you check it for me?”
This lady didn’t belong here. This was a real ‘if you had to ask, you can’t afford it’ kinda place. The guy behind the counter gave her a look, before glancing at the bag.
“Twenty nine fifty, miss.”
“Only thirty bucks? Okay-”
She went to dig into her current purse, before he cleared his throat.
“Ma’am, no. I’m saying it's two thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Ah. So when do I get the bull?”
“Pardon?”
“The bull. The one who's giving me this fresh batch of shit."
Sykes had to give her one thing, she had a mouth on her. Sykes sensed a fight, and decided to turn that into his favor.
“Hey, let me pay for the lady here.”
She looked at him, seeming to just now notice his presence. She was reasonably suspicious, and seemed to almost snarl at him.
“I don’t do freebies.”
“Not a freebie. Just thought a pretty lady should have pretty things. If you don’t want it, fine, won’t push it. Really, it’s on me.”
She hesitated, before seeming to put her guard down, pushing the purse back across the counter. He chuckled, swiping his card. This is how you brought the pretty ones in. Buy them something nice and shiny, show them you were a sweet guy. He grabbed his things, and stepped outside with her. She was staring at her purse in fascination, before turning to look at him.
“Thanks a bunch, by the way. Didn’t catch your name.”
“Sykes. Bill Sykes.”
He held his hand out to her, and she accepted the handshake. He took the chance to give her another look over, and realized; yeah. She was worth trapping. He threw his stuff into the car, before turning to look in her direction.
“You have plans for lunch?”
“No, why?”
“Feelin’ generous today. Assuming you can spare me some company.”
She looked hesitant, studying him and his ride. If he wasn’t rich, it would’ve been ‘hell no’. But she was, like many, allured by his obvious, flagrant weath.
“I mean...yeah, sure. Why not?”
Little did she know, she was digging the hole deeper and deeper.
-------------------------------------------
It had gotten WAY later into the night than he planned. He had meant to only spare an hour or so, but he found himself taking well into sunset. By the time they left the place, she was hooked, lined, and sinker, laughing and holding onto his arm as they walked back to his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, motioning for her to hop in.
“You want a ride back to your place? You DID have a bit to drink.”
She nodded, getting inside, practically giddy.
“Yeah, I can tell you how to get there, I think.”
“Good, good.”
He shut the door after her, and hopped in himself. He put on his seatbelt, and lit up a cigar. He hadn’t had a good smoke all day, and it felt good to finally get one in. He let her guide him to her house, and made a mental note of just where she lived. The drive was but a simple action, but it was a clever, discreet way of knowing just where to find her. He stopped right in front of her place, put the car in park, and exhaled the smoke into the car’s interior.
“You know, you put me in a real, real good mood. How about I do the same for you?”
She looked at him, confused, before he pulled out his wallet, and brought out a good chunk of cash. THAT sobered her up. Her first instinct was to clearly reach for it, but she stopped herself.
"What...is this for?"
"Spending money. Something for you to play around with, invest in stuff, whatever ya want."
"That’s...lots of money. A...LOT of money. You just carry that with you? You don’t think you’ll get mugged or something?”
“That doesn’t happen. Trust me on that.”
He chuckled. There were attempts, MANY attempts in fact, but...well. Didn’t end well, let’s keep it at that. She looked down at the stack, and he knew she was so close to being in his web. Just one movement of the hand. One moment of indulgence. And she fell for it. She took it from his hand, and counted it in her hand. The more she counted, the more lost she seemed to get, clearly in disbelief.
“Twenty five...t-thousand. That’s seriously how much this is?”
“Right on the dot. Now go on, get outta here. Sure I’ll bump into ya again, Doll.”
When she helped herself out of the car, he chuckled, and pulled out of the driveway. Soon enough made it home, where Roscoe and Desoto looked up at him, clearly wondering where he had been. It WAS a bit past their usual treat time. Fishing some out of his pockets, he tossed them towards his eagerly awaiting pups. He sighed as he sat down at his chair, leaning back a bit, and blowing rolls of smoke into the air.
“You boys ain’t gonna believe today’s catch. A real cute thing, you have no idea. Imma give her the usual week. Desoto.”
He snapped his fingers, and the mutt obeyed promptly, getting out of bed and sitting at his side. He allowed Sykes to run his big, firm hands through his fur, and thumbs rubbing at the tips of his ears. His master seemed VERY pleased by his new catch today, he almost never got special pets like this.
“You guys are gonna love her. Because If I don’t get a bite out of her, you two will.”
--------------------------------------------------------
He waited in his car, headlights off as he awaited her to return from work. He decided to take all this time to get back to some calls, rather than just sit here with his thumbs up his ass. 
“No. No. Swear to god ya bunch of morons- no. Take the teeth out BEFORE ya dump him. So what if he screams? Well ya in the warehouse right? Aight, ya gonna be fine then.”
His associate kept talking on the other line, but Sykes didn’t listen. He was too distracted by his hounds in the back, who were now fully sitting up and looking out the window. His dogs were a pain, but at least they were smart.
“Yeah listen, imma call ya back. Figure it out.”
He then saw her. She was even carrying the same purse he bought her. He waited till she went to her front door, before turning on the headlights, nearly blinding the poor thing. He stepped out of the car, hands out as if he was being welcoming.
“Aye, there ya are doll! Been a while!”
She seemed confused for a minute, but as he stepped closer, it clicked.
“Sykes, right?”
“Yeah, knew ya wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t forget ya in the slightest.”
He walked up to her, and leaned against the door, pinning her between a rock and a hard place. She shrunk a bit, before looking down at the floor. She had dropped her keys. Just before she could make the motion to reach for them, he covered it with the bottom of his shoe. He leaned down, blowing plumes of smoke into her face, making tears swell in her eyes.
“So, where’s my payment?”
“Payment?”
Of course she was confused. They always were. As if money was free in this world. He let the cigar roll in his mouth, before nodding.
“Yeah, my payment. You took a loan from me, doll. I need it back.”
“I didn’t know that was a loan! You didn’t say-”
“Little girl, nothing in this world is free, money included. Now, where is it? If you got it upstairs, I’ll go with ya to get it.”
Her little eyes looked so frantic under his gaze. He just needed to hear those words. Words that from any other mouth, would make him a very unhappy man.
“I...don’t have that kinda money.”
That was all he needed. He grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her to follow. She would’ve made a dash for her keys, had Roscoe not nipped at her heel, forcing her to back away. Turns out two barking dogs made for quite the deterrent. Sure, she struggled, screaming as his hand slapped over her mouth, but that didn’t matter. He managed to pull her away, and nearly threw her into the car. Desoto was a good boy, using those big, pearly whites to keep her there in pure fear.
“Roscoe, fetch.”
Roscoe went for the door, grabbed the keys, and placed them into his master’s hand.
“Good boy. Now get in.”
He waited till his other pup jumped into the back, before he went to the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of her scared little eyes. Yep. She was already worth every penny.
----------------------------------------------
“Don’t look at me like I’m a bad guy, sweetheart. You understand, ain’t nothing free. I fancy myself a good guy, but not good enough to just hand out money like that.”
Roscoe and Desoto circled her like vultures. She didn't even NEED to be tied up like this, he just liked the assurance, and the view. Like a little doe, she was still, powerless, and scared.
"I didn't know-"
"What you don't know, CAN kill you. I'm sorry, I know it ain't fair. But life is like that. Fortunately for you, I'm a very compassionate man. We can discuss methods of payment. Any family money?"
She shook her head, seeming to be a BIT distracted by Roscoe's sharp teeth. He gave a sharp inhale, shaking his head.
"Clearly YOU don't have the money, right? No 'under the sofa' cash?"
Another shake of her head. His fingers tapped against his table, shaking his head in clear disappointment. 
"Oh. I REALLY don't like your options now, Doll. Ya got two choices."
She squirmed a bit, stiffening as Desoto's teeth bared against her. He lifted his hands up a bit, and snapped his fingers. Roscoe followed the command, and dashed right for her, barking and frothing at the mouth. The weight of his body sent her falling, with the chair slamming onto the floor. He pinned her down, barking and covering her face in drool, teeth BARELY missing her own skin. 
Oh how she screamed. How she begged for mercy. How her legs thrashed as she tried in vain to get away. He let her sit there until he was certain there were tears in her eyes. Then he stood up, and slowly walked over to her, heavy footsteps clanking against the hard floor below them. He snapped his fingers, and Roscoe heeled, taking a seat next to his fellow fido. He squatted down to her level, blowing smoke into her already irritated face. He liked crybabies.
"That's option one. I'm assuming you don't want that."
She shook her head, sniffing. He rolled the cigar in his lips, before he lifted her face up with his hand, and pushed her chin down, forcing her mouth to open.
"Option two. You could provide me with a few...services. Then we can forget ALL about the pesky little debt you have with me. You're a pretty little thing, I'd be willing to let you work it off. I mean, you'd survive If I bit you, rather than my boys here. Not to mention if you're sweet 'nuff, I'll un do those pesky ropes of yours."
She clearly thought about it, but her mind was foggy, her eyes hurt, even her lungs felt sore from the second hand smoke. But, just as he suspected, she nodded. A huge grin came over his face, and he held onto the chair, pulling her off the floor.
"Alright sweetheart, let's EARN your freedom here. Open that pretty mouth for me."
He held onto her face as he pulled in, pushing that thick, rich smoke right into her mouth. All while his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing against hers. He took his time, getting a good, firm kiss out of her. He only pulled away when he needed to breathe. She needed it too, starting to fall into a coughing fit. It was cute. He put out his cigar on the ashtray, letting it sit there.
"Mm. You taste good. Damn good."
He undid his belt buckle, and whipped himself out. He turned her face at him, but with a bit of a...heavy hand, he pressed his cock against her face.
It was precious, watching such an innocent face under his thick cock. She whined a bit as he pushed her face into him, nearly smothering her with not only his dick, but his hairy, hairy balls.
"Open up for me Doll, nice and sweet. And don't you bite me. You'll regret it, trust me."
This time she seemed fairly willing, opening her mouth with not much more than a wince. He grabbed onto that pretty, pretty hair of hers, and pulled, really shoving her onto him.
"Oh that's the ticket, honey. Right there. Can feel that little tongue of yours."
He pushed himself fully, and held himself there, till he felt her gag, just like a good girl. He pulled away, watching her pant, lips covered in her own drool, and chest heaving. She was about to speak, before he shoved his balls right into her mouth, head tossed back in content. When was the last time he had his balls sucked by a cute, willing (somewhat anyway) little thing like her? He kept his fat, firm fingers in between her hair, really making a mess of it. Beautiful, poised girls were all swell, but cute, messy girls were such fun playthings. He granted her a bit of mercy, pulling away, while still pumping his cock.
"Mmm. You're a good little girl, ain't ya? Pretty too. I was gonna really put you through the ringer, but you're too damn precious NOT to be opened."
Not needing any scissors, he yanked at the ropes, making them snap under the force of his grip. He lifted her off of the seat, putting her on his desk, and using his big, strong hands to part those nice looking legs of hers. She was clearly hesitant, being felt up by essentially a stranger, but he didn’t care. Long as she didn't fight him, he could give less of a damn. He tore off her skirt, and took a gander of her panties. It was hot, knowing those lacey undergarments were paid for by HIM.
"Cute set here, Doll. Real, real cute stuff."
He took a hold of her ass, and pulled her closer to him, pressing himself right against that nice, cute fabric. With his free hand, he tugged at her shirt. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he couldn't be a bit refined.
"Shirt, bra, off. Case you wanna keep your outfit in one piece."
He saw her hands tremble, as if she was confused. He gave another tug, and she seemed to finally get the hint, pulling her clothes off. She was worth the wait, honestly. Hell, he was so excited, he took his own shirt off, laying it as carefully as he could off to the side of the desk (it was hard to keep your shit neat when you wanted to be messy). He dug his fingers into her hair again, and yanked her into another kiss, this time really pressing himself against her. It wasn’t just their bank accounts that differed, it seemed. Where she was soft, helpless, he was firm, foreboding against her. He loomed over her, nearly suffocating her with not only his greedy lips, but his large, hairy, heavy frame. He pulled her away for a moment, ignoring the way she winced. He was pretty heavy handed, especially when it came to such a darling looking thing. He started to roll his hips into her, pushing his tip right against her clit. He liked the way she jumped every time, liked the way her toes seemed to curl. 
“You’re gonna handle me REAL well, girlie. I can tell. You’re really just a kitten, ain’t ya?”
His hand cupped at one of her breasts, kneading and pulling at the flesh. He was heavy handed with her, using enough force to make her wince. Not his fault she had a cute pair, with a face to match. He would sit there and play with them till they were nice and raw, but he wasn’t sure his cock would handle this much stalling. He hooked his finger into her underwear, and pulled them off. They were pretty much soaked, and something about that was just so charming to him. He let go of her hair, and groped her pussy, palming at her wet, warm folds. She held onto his hand, writhing under his firm grip. He pulled his hand away, letting her whimper as he checked out just how much she left on his hand. Needy little thing, it seemed. He slapped that hand over her mouth, and pushed himself right inside. You’d think he’d give her just the tip, get her used to his size.
You’d be wrong.
He pushed himself fully inside of her, balls deep, and watched her shake. Not that he blamed her. He was a big guy, afterall. He kept his hand over her mouth, despite how much she clawed at his hand. He held her like that, not moving a single muscle until she decided to settle down. He pulled his hand away, watching as her own drool (along with her own fluids) smeared over her delicate little mouth. She looked at the cock stuff inside of her, before looking at his face. He was expecting some kind of retort, some kind of insult, maybe even a slap to the face, stuff he was used to.
“You’re a terrible, terrible man.”
He opened his mouth to give her a life lesson (one he gave everyone when they barked that at him), when she suddenly flung herself at him, nearly smashing her lips against his own. That...was a first. But he was NOT complaining. He grabbed the back of her head, and returned the kiss with fervor, letting her moan right into his greedy, greedy mouth. Laying her right onto her back, he started to slam himself right into her. He had no idea how his desk supported his weight, especially when he was acting damn near belligerent on his new toy, but god was he glad it did. Especially since his new toy seemed just as excited as he was now, running her hands through his absolute mess of chest hair, and even locking her legs around him, as if she didn’t want him to leave. He parted the kiss, panting huskily against her lips. She moved not an inch, in either obedience, or the fact that his strong, fat hands were still holding the back of her head, as if he was scruffing a mutt.
“You’re taking me real nice, doll. You feel nice and tight, and you’re feeling me up like you actually like me.”
She didn’t seem to be focusing on his words for a moment, but rather keeping her focus on his big, hairy tummy. Not that he cared, he favored looking at her tits moving in sync with his thrusts. He favored watching the lewdness in her eyes, he favored knowing that her ravenous pussy leaked all over his desk. All of these he favored, over her actually meeting his eyes (Sykes wasn’t a real romance type, case you haven’t guessed). He let her continue her grubby little hands as he lowered his face right to the nape of her neck. He could tell that she liked hearing him talk, given the way she seemed to pull at his hair every time his breath brushed against her ear.
“It’s gonna feel so good when I cum right in you. You’re already handling me so good, you’re already gonna cum yourself. I can see it. I can see it plain as day, you wanna cum on my cock. Even if I’m a bad, bad guy, you want me doll. And that’s SO sweet of ya, really.”
He could tell she was trying to give him a bit of a fight. Just a little bit of one. She had such a mean little scowl about her, as if she refused to let him see her cum. Unfortunately for her, he always took what he wanted. And after just a few more thrusts, after taunting her with his sweet, sweet voice, and after grabbing her so tightly she bruised, she came. She shook something fierce as he fucked her right through it, relishing in her cries of ecstasy. He was used to screams. Screams of mercy, of pain, but hearing one from such a cute little dame cumming for him, it was just so refreshing. She pushed his face away, only to bury her teeth right into his big, meaty neck. Most bites tended to happen on his hand, so feeling it here was just something else. He didn’t have a chance in hell. With a swear under his lips, he came. He forced her to keep still, pumping cum right inside of her. Even as it trickled out of her, he didn’t seem to quit. He wasn’t timing it, but he knew he lasted a damn good minute before he finished.
“Shit.”
Was his only response. A simple, satisfied swear. One that helped ease all the tension in his poor, old body. His stomach rested on hers as he panted, ever so slowly calming down from a damn good high. She was quite a vision herself, covered in sweat and bruises. Pretty thing. She forced herself to swallow, before speaking, wearily.
“We uh...square, right?”
That made him laugh. He shook his head, leaning over to his discarded jacket, and pulling out a cigar. He lit it up, taking a good, deep inhale, right before looking down at her.
“Honey, that was a damn good fuck, really it was. But that was NOT worth twenty five thousand. You still got a bit of work ahead of ya, Doll.”
He watched her wince as he tapped his cigar, letting the ashes fall onto her exposed skin. Yep.
She was a keeper.
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