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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Alley Drunk!Danny AU- Part 3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4]

“Have you considered anger management classes?”

The Batman turned sharply, cape flaring out as he raised his weary fists in preparation for another fight. Only to pause, as he caught sight of a bedraggled man leaning against the pockmarked, water worn, Gotham variety stone of the abandoned post office. Non-hostile. Scent of booze, not strong enough to be fresh, but prominent enough for him to clock the stranger as a habitual drinker. Young. Sympathy softened Batman’s stance. Still, Batman kept his guard up. Good thing Robin was benched, he was off his game today if he hadn’t noticed the young man.

“Nevermind. You run around as a bat. Clearly anger management classes aren’t on your to do list.”

“What do you want.”

He’s young. Not as young as Robin, but… enough that it made Batman gentle his approach. The young man pushed away from his spot, fearlessly slouching towards him. Casual. Unafraid. How curious. Even Gothamites were wary around him, correctly assuming and witnessing his takedowns of Gotham’s Underbelly.

“You do this a lot, don’t you?” The bedraggled young man asked, head tilted neutrally at the bodies strewn around the Batman.

“Hm.”

“Why do you never swing by Crime Alley?”

Batman’s guard faltered at the blunt question, but he regained it quickly.

“I do.”

“You don’t.” The man disagreed amiably. He reached down towards the victims but Batman grabbed his arm in an iron hold before he could rifle through their belongings. The young man laughed and pulled back agreeably. “Is it classism, why you avoid us? The poor isn’t good enough to deserve protection from Gotham’s knight?”

“No. I do this for Gotham. All of Gotham.”

“…Well, there’s always room for improvement, I guess?”

The stranger pulled back and broke Batman’s hold, which had the vigilante sharply focusing onto the man. The stranger was strong, despite how skinny and starved he looked. Few people could casually break his hold and tonight, he added one more to the tally.

“You should tell your sponsor to look into creating job opportunities in Crime Alley. The problem isn’t actually the crooks,” the man told the vigilante, gesturing around them. “That’s just the symptoms. The actual problem is the poverty.”

“I know.”

“And yet, you still avoid Crime Alley.”

“Who are you.”

The man began walking away, throwing a dry “The Crime Alley Drunk, apparently,” behind his shoulder. When Batman took to the roofs to track him, the man had thoroughly slipped away.

“Agent A, did you catch that?”

“Yes, Batman. It appears you’ve gotten the wool pulled over your cowl by a rather mysterious youngster.”

Batman heard a younger snort of laughter. Robin. Who was supposed to be doing homework.

“Please stop making fun of me.” Batman sighed half heartedly.

“Not on your life, B.” Robin chirped.

——

“Ya talked ta Batman?!” Jason crowed at him, excited. Danny had done as promised and met him at the chili dog stand at the correct time, which increased his credibility in Jason’s eyes.

“Sure did. He knocked out like, five guys by himself. It was pretty cool.”

“Fuckin’ woah.”

“Right?” Danny smiled tiredly at the kid. He stayed up all night to pull his shit together, and outright bought an apartment for them to stay in. That safe had a lot of cash, after all. “Come on, kid. We’re heading back to base but before that, we gotta pick up a few things.”

“Like what?” Jason asked suspiciously.

“Like curtains in the color you like, groceries, and blankets and bedding, and general cleaning stuff.” Danny ticked off a finger per item.

“We killin’ someone?”

“What? No!”

“Ya said general cleaning stuff!” Jason defended himself. The raggedy kid peered at Danny cautiously, and brightened when Danny only snorted in amusement.

“Oh my ancients, you Gothamites. No, those are for like, actual cleaning. You know, for the apartment I just got you.”

Danny missed the burn of booze, but when Jason looked at him like the child he’s supposed to be had Gotham’s streets never laid its claim on him, Danny didn’t want to fail the kid.

Even if the kid thought he was buying chemicals to clean up a body. He’s the son of two mad scientists, he knows how to get rid of a body, obviously. As if he’d need chemicals to begin with, honestly. His ghost powers are quite versatile.

“An apartment?”

“Yep. It’s shitty, but it’s got all the utilities and I kind of miss having warm water to shower with.”

Jason straightened and trotted alongside the Alley Drunk with a little more purpose. People avoided them. Danny lead the kid to the apartment, handing him a key and letting him explore the sparsely decorated place.

“So, first thing’s first. You go shower. Then, we’ll go shopping for clothes, register you for school, get your school supplies, and grab some lunch. Not necessarily in that order, but ya know. And cleaning supplies.” Danny grinned.

Jason whipped his head around from where he was closely inspecting the windows for insulation- like Danny would let the actual kid live somewhere with drafty windows- and spluttered. Hope, fear, uncertainty battled across Jason’s face as he tried to say something. Danny watched Jason open and close his mouth several times before he finally managed to whisper something.

“I- I c’n go to school?”

“Yes. You are, in fact, legally required to do so, Jason.”

A pause as the kid grapples with the idea, of something he didn’t think he’d ever get to do. A grin bloomed over his face as he realized Danny’s sincerity.

“Then what are we waitin’ for?!”

“For you to shower. C’mon grubby, the shower’s that way. Towels are in the cabinet, and there’s some extra clothes in here,” Danny tossed Jason the plastic bag of clean kid’s clothes he bought from Gotham’s version of Walmart, a store that somehow had the energy of a Tesco and a Denny’s parking lot.

“Fuc- I mean- yeah! On it!”

——

Clearing out the drafts- feel free to continue ^^

#me the entire time writing this: Justice! for Gotham! Batman needs to go back to the batcave!#alley drunk Danny #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #dc x dp #dcxdp #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #Danny: Batman u got issues #alfred Pennyworth #alley drunk! Danny AU

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fuck-customers · 4 months

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Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

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kaunis-sielu · 6 months

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Dangerous Places: 3

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” Winter says after another hour of questions. How old are you? How did you get out? How did you get mixed up in Hydra? What are you hiding from us? Who did you belong to? Over and over, like they were trying to catch you in a lie. You give them as little as you can, you know better than to give them ammunition to use against you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised that they haven’t dragged Peter in here yet to use against you.

“We’re gonna bring her back. A peace offering.” He says and your heart plummets into your stomach.

“I’d rather you just kill me yourself.” You tell him seriously, you still haven’t told them who you’d belonged to, and if you can avoid it you’ll continue to keep that to yourself. Crossbones is second in command at Hydra now, at least from what you heard on the streets, you didn’t know what the two men would do with the information.

“No.” Captain says and Winter looks sharply over at him.

“What?”

“Since when are you the boss of the Howlies Buck? You don’t get to make those decisions.”

“Your judgement is clouded!”

“Maybe.” Captain agrees, “but we’re not just turning her over to them. I don’t want to ally with Hydra, I want to destroy them.”

“I know but,”

“No.” He growls and the ferocity in that single word is enough to make goosebumps rise on your arms. “We play this the way we have been, she changes nothing.”

“You’re going to just let her go?” Hope springs in your chest, please say yes, please say he’s just going to let you go.

“No, she’ll stay here until this is over.”

“Wait. What no.” You say finally interrupting their conversation about you. “I can’t just stay here.”

“Buck, go help Sam.” Captain says ignoring you until Winter swaggers out of the room, “Why not?” He asks.

“I have a job. A life. I can’t stay here.”

“Where do you work?”

“107. I’m a bartender, I can’t just not show up for work.”

“Not a problem.” Captain says sounding bored as you slip off of the counter and limp your way over to him.

“I cannot get fired.”

“You won’t.”

“You haven’t met my boss.” You argue and he pulls his phone from his pocket.

“Who? Thor?” He says still not looking at you.

“How do you know Thor?”

“I’m his boss.”

“You’re, what?”

“His boss, and yours apparently. Although he’s supposed to tell me when we have new hires so we’ll be having a conversation about that tomorrow. Consider yourself on paid leave.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I absolutely can. I own 107 and Nomad’s, as well as the building you were living in and a few other properties.”

“I can’t stay here all my stuff,”

“Is being picked up. Any other concerns that I can handle for you?” You scowl up at him but Captain only grins down at you. “Let me know what kind of food you want to eat and I’ll have someone pick it up.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re a liability. Hydra thinks I’m willing to cooperate but if they find out I’m hiding one of Rumlow’s girls in one of my buildings shit is gonna hit the fan. I won’t be able to convince them I didn’t know, I run too tight a ship for that. So I’m keeping you here, safe, protected and out of sight until I destroy them.”

“How did you know I was with him?”

“I know what his brand looks like. Last time I was too late, I won’t make that mistake again.” He gaze darkens and you very quickly decide not to ask. “So, this is your life until I destroy Hydra.”

“Um no thanks.” You tell him moving toward the door. You know he’s just humoring you as pain ripples through your foot with each step.

“What are you planning on doing Bunny? You’re hurt and I’ve caught you once.”

“I will not be controlled again.”

“Don’t think of it as control, think of it as protection.” You turn to scowl at him and stumble backwards with how close he’s standing to you. Captain catches your arm and gently rights you, “I know you don’t want this Bunny but if I could think of a better way to not have to bring you back I would.”

“Let me go.” You beg, it’s hard to look at him because you’re on the verge of tears but you force them back.

“I can’t.” He says, he looks like he actually feels bad that he can’t let you go. “I want this shit over as soon as possible but I have to be careful.”

“What does that have to do with me? I’m not his anymore, I never wanted to be his like that.”

“What do you mean?” You open your mouth but words don’t come, instead a sob passes your lips and he holds out a hand for you but he moves too quickly and you flinch away. He doesn’t move, just freezes where he’s standing and you attempt a half step back away from him but you bump into the couch. When you risk a glance up at him he looks furious, you drop your gaze immediately and pray that you haven’t offended him.

“You don’t leave.” He says tightly before stalking out of the room. The door slams shut behind him and a soft whimper passes your lips. You sink back onto the back of the couch and look down at your throbbing feet, blood has seeped through one of the bandages so you slide to the floor and crawl your way to where you know the first aid kit is. You’re not too concerned about the blood, feet bleed forever and you haven’t been overly gentle with your feet.

You sit on the floor and add more gauze to your feet, wrapping them tighter than Captain had so the bleeding will hopefully stop. You’ve got to clean the floor too, there’s a blood trail leading from the door to the couch. Captain is still unpredictable, you know he was furious when he left, the slamming of the door told you that, but you don’t know why. That makes you uneasy.

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

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DHP Pt. 9

Warnings: angst, fighting, blackmail, masturbation, unprotected sex

Series ML

I’m dripping sweat by the time we’re done moving everything into the apartment. Half the furniture is from the Chateau so Sarah has an excuse to redecorate. John B can never tell her no. We all refused to let Y/N lift a finger so she went across the street to grocery shop with what little money I had until I got paid again. She also mentioned getting a job although I didn’t want her to work but that was an argument for another time.

“Are you going to name him after me?” John B asks for the tenth time, smirking as he hands me a beer.

“Or me. There’s plenty of John’s, not enough Pope’s.” Pope chimes in, particularly serious. I chuckle, looking over to see Sarah and Kie in a heated debate. Their words were hushed but knowing Sarah, she was probably putting Kie in her place. She had no right to start her shit last night. I didn’t expect her to help today but she did, remaining silent and keeping her head down. She almost seemed defeated.

“So have you told Y/N about everything that happened last summer?” John B asks.

“No. What’s there to tell?” I shrug.

“The gold. Kiara. Rafe.” Pope adds.

“There’s nothing to tell. I started a business that’s still not up and running and paid off a shit ton of debt. I’m not bringing in any money yet.”

“Yet. Key word.” John B says, his eyes darting to Sarah and Kie constantly.

“This will all be temporary. You know I’d let you guys live at the Chateau but Sarah is hounding me for a baby. Especially now that you have one coming. Her baby fever is through the roof. My dick is going to fall off.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” Pope grimaces.

“I know but I need to step up and be a man. I have to do this. I have a one year lease then I’ll find a house out in the marsh again. I’m selling my dads house so I’m not living there. That’ll be a little dough until the charter is up and running. I’d rather Y/N not worry about working but with everything that’s happened, she probably needs something to keep her busy before the baby comes.”

“Yea, she lost everything. Like her life was completely uprooted.” John B and I both shoot Pope a glare and he holds his hands up in defense. “Sorry! That came out wrong.”

“No, it’s true.”

“Shits tough. Sarah went through it. Y/N just has to find herself again. She’ll have you to support her.” John B nods.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to let her back in. It took a lot for me to open up to her the first time.”

“Oh yea? Then what did I hear last night? We got thin walls man.”

“Listen, pregnancy hormones are apparently no joke. She woke me up and I helped her out. That was it.”

“Maybe you should work on the relationship without being physical. Withhold sex until you both know what you want.” Pope says, earning another glare from us.

“Do you want me to die? Have you not heard how crazy pregnant women can be?”

“Yea I’m with JJ. Don’t risk your life, man.”

Sarah and Kie’s hushed voices grow louder, earning our attention from across the room. I lick eyes with Kie and she shakes her head, waving off Sarah and stomping out the front door. Sarah sighs before joining us, curling up against John B’s side. It made me miss Y/N and her softness.

“What was that about?” I ask, downing the rest of my beer.

“She doesn’t trust Y/N and she thinks you’re being stupid. She’s just mad and jealous. I think you need to just set the record straight with her.” Sarah opens her own beer and takes a long gulp. Kie was a problem I’d ignored for a long time. How clear can you make it to someone that you’re not interested without being shitty?

Thank god I wasn’t having a girl. These women were driving me fucking nuts.

I hated how no matter what’s happened, I still ached for her. She left me breathless and crazy. My heart skipped beats and shit. I’d never felt anything like this before but she was right. It’d been there since the beginning.

“Guys!” Kie burst back in through the front door, her curly hair whipped around her face like she’d been running and her chest heaving. “Rafe has Y/N cornered at the grocery store across the street.”

Those words send me into a blind rage as I jump to my feet and tuck the peacekeeper into the waist band of my shorts, concealing it with my shirt despite my friends pleading for me to stop as I shove my way out the door.

The closer I get to the store, the angrier I get. My vision is practically red when I see that he’s not only standing too close but he’s wearing a proud, cocky smile. Almost like he’s.. flirting. Y/N wasn’t tense or appearing to be in any distress. If anything they looked to be having a pleasant conversation. It’s when her eyes lock on my fast approach that her face falls, her eyes widening.

“J..”

I fist the back of Rafe’s pollo, all but throwing him away from her.

“Jesus, dude. We were just talking.” Rafe chuckles, holding up his hands as he smiles.

“JJ, stop.” Y/N snaps, grabbing my elbow but all I can think about is the shit Rafe has put my friends through. What he’s put me through. Now he’s talking to Y/N. Flirting with her.

“Stay away from her.” I growl, taking a step towards him just as the Pogues catch up.

“Okay, okay, enough. Let’s go.” John B says, stepping between the two of us and pushing back on my chest.

“How’s the Kook life treating you guys? Blow through all that money yet?” Rafe turns to Sarah, who stiffens under her brothers gaze. “Did you enjoy getting our father killed?” His gaze moves to Pope, “How’s that family legacy? I think I might still have a few pieces of that cross left.”

I can’t stop myself from pulling the gun and shoving John B away, pressing the barrel against Rafe’s chest. He only smiles, like the untouchable asshole he thinks he is. I hear the girls gasp but everything fades, my hatred for Rafe and his family masking everything else.

“What the fuck do you want?” I bite out.

“Y/N owes me a favor. I’m here to collect.” Rafe keeps his cocky grin as his eyes move to Y/N at my side, trying to talk me down. I can’t hear her.

“She doesn’t owe you shit.” I growl, pressing the gun harder to Rafe’s chest.

“Ask her. Just ask her.” Rafe takes a step back, casting a glance to Pope and Sarah before looking back at Y/N.

“JJ, stop. You’ll go to jail!” Y/N grabs my face, making me look at her pleading eyes. The gun is taken from my hand as Rafe gets back in his car and peels away. “What was that about?” Y/N demands, searching my face like I’ve been injured.

“What favor do you owe him? What did he want?”

“You’re being crazy right now! Chill! We were just talking!”

“Rafe Cameron doesn’t just talk to people unless he’s looking to gain something. So what favor did he fucking want?” Her face hardens as she takes a step back, too stubborn to back down from me. I was being an asshole but I couldn’t help it. This was too close to home.

“You’re not going to talk to me like that. You’re being shitty with me for no reason.”

“Guys, stop. This is what he wants. He wants us to fight.” Sarah says, gently pulling Y/N back so we’re no longer in each others space.

“She doesn’t know how much of a psychopath Rafe is. She shouldn’t trust him!” I shout, letting John B lead me away as Sarah tries to plead with her.

“Then tell me why! You never fucking tell me why! You have all these barriers you put up and your reasons for doing things but I’m not going to just blindly follow you without reason. I need to be in on it too. What did he do?”

“Both of you stop.” Kie says, catching a murderous look from Y/N.

“No, you stop. Mind your own fucking business.” Y/N shouts at Kie. God, this was only getting worse.

“He is my business, bitch! I’ve known him a lot longer than you! It’s not our fault you don’t know the man who knocked you up. You better adapt real quick to the way we do things because it’s his baby too.” I find myself diving between the girls as Y/N lunges for her. Kie’s eyes soften as she looks up at me but it’s not her I’m protecting.

“Get over yourself, Kiara. It’s never going to happen between us. It’s over. It’s been over. Whatever torch you’re carrying for me, you need to let it fucking go. Don’t speak about my child on my behalf.” I snap, a pang of guilt slicing through me when her face falls. She was my best friend but I couldn’t do this anymore. Tears fill her eyes before she turns away, stomping off to where she’s parked down the road.

“Really, dude? How about you let her down gently?” Pope scoffs, going after her.

“You could’ve handled that better.” John B adds, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her to the Twinkie. Y/N shoves past me, heading back inside the apartment building without a second glance in my direction. I’d be glad when today is fucking over.

It’s late as I walk by the bathroom door, a stifled moan stopping me in my tracks. My ears perk up as I listen in. It would be totally like her to try and pleasure herself knowing I’ve offered to help. I can’t pull myself away as her soft little whimpers grow closer and closer together as she nears her peak. My dick hardens in my shorts as I grit my teeth, listening for the moment that she comes undone.

I think she’s close when she lets out a frustrated groan and there’s a loud bang. I don’t even hesitate in shoving the door open, terrified that she’s fallen in the shower.

“What the fuck?” Y/N snaps, opening the shower curtain to look at me.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought you fell or something.” I say, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. She scared me to death. I’m not surprised when she rolls her eyes at me, sitting a bottle of shampoo down on the edge of the tub.

Her eyes soften just a little when she realizes that she scared me. I take slow, easy breaths to calm my heart as she starts to lather herself up with soap without shutting the shower curtain. I can't look away as her hands massage the suds into her glorious tits then down her baby bump and around her hips. My cock is throbbing painfully already in my shorts as her hands find her breasts again as she rinses, her nipples pebbled and begging for my teeth.

"Did you cum?" I croak, my throat dry as my body screams for her.

"No." She says firmly, turning the water off and wrapping her body then hair in a towel. She steps out, looking up at me with defiant eyes before brushing past me to go to the bedroom. I watch her go down the hall before glancing back at the couch where I told myself I'd start sleeping. I really should walk away. We can't work through our issues if we're constantly avoiding it with sex. But when I look back down the hall to see the door left open and her naked silhouette climbing into the bed, I lose the rest of my restraint.

I go to the door and lean against the frame, watching as she gets a vibrator from the nightstand she'd packed away and brings it to her clit. She glares back at me as she turns the toy on, her body jerking with the sudden vibrations. The toy gets turned up as high as it will go and her eyes threaten to close as she starts to pant softly, surrendering herself to the pleasure. I can't look away, jealousy choking me over the damn toy touching her instead of me. I'm tempted to pull my cock out and masturbate with her but I know that will tip her over the edge and I don't want to help her achieve anything without me involved.

She groans when she can't reach her peak and she throws the toy down on the bed, her breathing hard as she stares back at me.

"I think your pussy is a little spoiled by me." I smirk, bringing myself to the edge of the bed and gazing at her wet, swollen pussy. Her glare intensifies as her eyes trail down my body, stopping at the tent in my shorts.

"That's fine. I'm spoiled by your pussy too." I lower myself to the bed, crawling up between her legs and savoring the shuddering breath she lets out as I stop just at her pussy.

"I want you to cum on my cock." I say, looking for her permission before I fuck her brains out. By the look in her eyes, I know she wants it too.

"Okay." She whispers. I don't hesitate in flipping her onto her hands and knees, making her yelp then moan loudly as I fill her up from behind. She's so wet that I slip right in, touching her so deep that my eyes threaten to roll back in my head. I fuck her hard and fast, sending her into orgasm after orgasm as my own quickly builds inside me. I pull her hands back, her face pressed into the comforter as I use her as nothing more but a vessel for my pleasure.

I didn’t know how to talk to her but I knew how to do this. I knew how to fuck her until she forgets everything she’s mad about. In this moment nothing else matters. Not the secrets or the lies. Not Rafe Cameron or her loser ex. Not Kie. Just this.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #rudy pankow #jj maybank x you #jj obx #blueicequeen19

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

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tongue in cheek - three

Tom Bennett x f!reader

word count: 1.3k ▪︎ masterlist ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two ▪︎ part four

The reader finds herself properly settling in the Bennett household, much to Tom's pleasure.

a/n: I've set the story post-WW2. So if in S1 of the show, Tom was around 23-24(?), here he is 26-28. The reader and Lois are just a bit younger than him. Also, I've only watched Tom's scenes so I'm probably not going to write 100% in line with the world of World on Fire! But the focus here is - Tom and the reader 🖤

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Time seems to pass quickly under the Bennett household.

With everyone keeping busy – you with your job at the local paper, Lois as a secretary for the newly-created NHS, Douglas getting his veteran support group up and running, and Tom… well, Tom just does what he does, let’s put it that way.

Just two weeks prior, a few days after the window incident, an issue arose with your former accommodation. More so with your former landlord, that is, and how he has all but kicked you out of the flat due to “safety concerns”.

It all boiled down one morning, with that telegram sent to you by your landlord, telling you to retrieve the remains of your possessions from the flat. Apparently, he was enraged about the damage done to the wall, even though you had already explained that it was your neighbour’s doing. Additionally, you had been asked to pay a hefty fine for “reparations”.

And it wasn’t that bad. “Clearly the ol’ bloke is just trying to rinse a bit more money out of ya,” Tom exclaimed, after he fished the telegram from your hand.

“Impossible,” you scoffed, “how is he coming up with this shit now? We agreed that he would have that damned wall repaired. We even spoke to the man living on the other side of that bloody wall and he explained everything - ”

Tom put a hand on your arm, making you cease your rant.

“Want me to beat him up for ya, doll?” His thumb gently caressed your upper arm. For a second, you forgot all about the problem at hand.

“I… well…”

Douglas intervened, “There will be no beatin’ up anybody, son. Surely this man can be reasoned with, and if not, then there’s going to be a solution, y/n. We’re here to help.”

You breathed out, already relieved. “Thank you, Douglas.”

“Right, maybe it’s all for the best, doll. After all, I’ve gotten way too used to having you sleep in the same room as me.” Tom said with his signature shit-eating smirk. You attempted to appear unaffected, and rolled your eyes in return.

“Sure.” You shrugged your shoulders, looking around the living room. What to do now? “I suppose I should head over there, find out if anything can be done, but if the flat is lost…” Your voice broke slightly at the end.

“Then you can stay with us. I’m sure Lois will be happier for it.” Douglas smiled comfortingly.

“And me.” Tom mumbled under his breath, but you heard it clearly.

“I’ll pay rent,” you said determinedly, “I’ll help out with everything around the house.”

“There’s no need for that, kid. We’re happy to have you.” Douglas patted you on the back.

You turned to face Tom, who had been lounging in a chair, cigarette carelessly dangling from his lips. He breathed out a puff of smoke, and the motion catches your eye. His lips began to curve in mischief when he caught you looking, “So, dollface? Shall we?” He stood up, and held a hand out for you to take.

“Pardon?” You asked, startled out of your haze.

“There's no way you’re going to go meet this arse all by yourself. I’m coming with ya, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

And that was that. You found yourself saddled with your new living arrangement. Weeks on, you can admit that you have gotten used to being the “honorary Bennett”, as Lois kindly puts it.

You can also admit, albeit reluctantly, that Tom Bennett is starting to get under your skin.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“It’s just a small shindig, a few blocks from here. Should be fun.” Tom says. The partition between his and yours and Lois’ beds is pushed aside, and you can see him completely. Clad in nothing but boxers and a tattered wife beater, Tom sure has gotten comfortable around you.

Not that he ever wasn’t.

The three of you remain awake late into the night, conversing. You sit by the foot of your bed, sipping from a cup of tea, while Lois leans against the headboard, newspaper in hand.

“A bit too soon for that, isn’t it?” Lois remarks, referring to the end of the war, which officially happened just one year prior. Everyone still feels the effects of the devastation suffered, but life goes on. Britain is currently in rehabilitation mode, tending to the infrastructure and the various industries. Majority of the soldiers and officers have since been repatriated, including Tom.

“Don’t think so,” Tom puffs his smoke, “if anythin’, we should bloody celebrate.”

“Could be a good idea.” You shrug. “We haven’t had a chance to just… be… you know? Not for a really long time.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Tom smiles at you, and you mirror the gesture.

Lois narrows her eyes at the exchange. She hasn’t been blind as to how Tom is around you. Not that Tom doesn’t have his way around dames – he normally draws them in like moth to a flame, with his charm and devil-may-care ways. But with you…

It’s like her brother is the moth and you’re the sacred ball of light.

Lois thinks it may be only a matter of time before things get going, as it tends to be in these situations. But she also thinks that you might be too guarded, and Tom too roguish.

With the two of you, it could possibly take a while.

“Alright,” Lois relents, “tomorrow night, was it?”

“Yeah,” Tom confirms, “you can take Harry if you want.”

“I’m sure he’d love that.” Lois thumbs through her paper, her attention caught on the page.

Standing, you place your teacup on the dresser against the wall opposite the two beds. You stand in front of the mirror, and roll out the tension in your shoulders. The ease it brings causes you to momentarily shut your eyes, but after some movement, one strap of your nightgown falls.

Before you can pull it up in a haste, Tom stands behind you, his fingers taking hold of the fallen strap. Slowly, he takes it back up your shoulders, grazing your skin along the way.

The entire time, his blue eyes are locked on yours in the mirror. Tom is arrested by the way your lips are slightly parted, by your startled expression. By the feel of your skin, the sight of your exposed décolletage.

The reflection betrays the fact – that of the moth and his flame.

Then the sound of shuffling newspaper crunches in the room, and you turn to see Lois getting up to leave. “I could use some tea,” she mutters quickly, and she flashes you a knowing smile before shutting the door behind her.

What on earth? The moment persists for a few more seconds, before you found the nerve to speak.

“Hmm,” you place your hand above his and pry it from your shoulder, “good job, Tom. I think we’ve made your sister uncomfortable.”

When you turn around, he stands close. Very close. He towers over you, making you lean back against the dresser, almost sitting atop it.

One think you notice is that Tom doesn’t have his usual smug smirk. Rather, his brows are slightly furrowed, as if he is pondering something.

His teeth clamp on his bottom lip, and he just… stares at you.

You look to the side, searching for something. Anything. A distraction. But that doesn’t last long, because Tom finally makes a move, cupping your face with one hand, and prying it towards him.

He leans in, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Tom?”

He pauses halfway, “I’d like to try something, doll.”

“Try someth - ”

You don’t get to finish the words.

end of part three.

- - - - -

series taglist: @greenowlfactif @schniiipsel @tssf-imagines @aemond-secondson @ahdushenka @bat-revival @mefools @mischiefmanaged71 @svtansdaddyx @chainsawangel

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett #world on fire #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader

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grumpycakes · 6 months

Text

SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE VOTE 2, DISASTER BOOGALOO CONT. **UPDATED

DAY 3 10/19/2023 • OOPS NO VOTE • 12 Noon EST

< Previous (Day 2)

So McHenry saunters in w the entourage, calls them to order, and the Chaplin leads in on prayer.

Chaplin’s prayer is basically “we’re over it but got grant us the compassion and wisdom to get our shit together and govern for the country, Amen” just flower-ier and less sassy.

Still hate that we gotta have a prayer before govt work but

Still gotta have them pledge allegiance

AND THEN MCHENRY IMMEDIATELY CALLS A RECESS.

So what TF happened?

Jim Jordan in a moment of clarity (and probably some shaming from his colleagues) realized he doesn’t have the votes, and won’t for a while. So he has TEMPORARILY pulled his bid for the Speakership.

In the meantime, it looks like they are working on a proposal for McHenry to take over some speakership roles for a LIMITED TIME. We won’t know how long until the proposal is made/put before congress.

This move is most likely JUST to get the budget done and agree on how much aid we’ll be sending to Ukraine and Israel. Otherwise the Government will shut down and shit will go into free fall. This covers the asses of the Republicans while still not having to pick a speaker.

It also is taxing to force them all in session DAILY for at least 2 hours to do these votes.

SOME TAKEAWAYS I’VE SEEN

We could still get a 3rd vote today depending on how fast they make up the legislation

This isn’t great for Jordan, it’s a weak move to let someone else do speaker things while you beg and bribe people to vote for you

A lot of the far rights/hardliners are mad about the move to give temporary powers. Basically advocating for making everyone stay and suffer multiple rounds of voting again (cannot fathom why when it just made McCarthy look stupid last time, unless they truly just would rather burn the govt to the ground than do anything helpful)

Reportedly McHenry doesn’t want temporary powers either rofl

While the republicans will whine and moan that the Dems should have bailed them out (either by voting present for McCarthy or by the same for the new speakership votes) it is not their job NOR DID REPUBLICANS HELP THEM AT ALL WHEN THEY HAD THIS NARROW OF A MAJORITY. And they didn’t devolve into this kind of chaos

Dems are just asking to pass budgets and aid, and are probably just stepping out of the way of this train wreck

This has never been an issue till this year (and this partisanship/far right monstrosity the Republicans have fomented)

The next speaker will most likely IMMEDIATELY reverse that dumbass rule that one person can force a vote to remove the speaker

APPARENTLY some of the republicans that did not vote for Jordan have been receiving “Credible death threats.” Over it????? JFC

Yes, since they called a session to vote, they HAD to gavel in, pray and get set up to CALL IT OFF. And that’s hilariously stupid

ADDED EDIT 8PM 10/19/2023

Lolll fuck. So Jim Jordan had a “Closed door meeting” with the rest of the republicans to work out how/if to give McHenry additional powers and CAME OUT AN HOUR LATER SAYING THERE WILL BE NO SPECIAL POWERS. HE’S GONNA GO AGAIN. (Didn’t happen today lol) They apparently were fighting over whether or not it’s LeGaL or cOnStiTuTiOnAl to give the interim speaker powers. Loll but according to McCarthy when Gaetz tried to argue they basically told him to shut up. So it sounds like some of the repubs are still mildly homicidal abt Gaetz.

But a few things,

1. It’s legal and constitutional if y’all MAKE LEGISLATION FOR IT. And you can make the legislation be like ONLY THIS ONCE CAUSE WE GOTS PROBLEMS

2. I cannot fathom why they are so down bad to embarrass themselves. This doesn’t look good, this isn’t inspiring confidence, and since no one on the repubs are willing to budge or concede for each other you’re fighting a losing battle. You have the majority, use it.

3 . This feels like weird toxic grandstanding of if you just stand your ground it’ll bend but like, it’s not HAPPENING. And people will hate you worse for fucking w the government.

4. OH AND IF YHEY PASS THIS AND DEMS JOIN IN FOR IT TO HAPPEN IS RHAT NOT A WIN FOR THE REPUBS????? That they can get ANYTHING DONE?????

McCarthy talked to reporters and said it’s the fault of Gaetz, the “Crazy 8” (really classy dude) and the dems. And that he was taken out by less than a quarter of the house. But my dude. If it was 8 of your Repubs and then ALL THE DEMOCRATS. That’s. That’s a MAJORITY OF THE HOUSE.

Jim Jordan apparently did denounce the death threats agaisnt republicans.

END ADDITION

So that’s where we are @ u @ chaos-ville. I’ll make a new post or update y’all if they do a vote today.

Next (Day 4 Vote 3) >

#speaker of the house vote #October 19 2023 #10/19/2023 #day 3 #us politics #disaster boogaloo #oops no vote

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blackacre13 · 10 months

Note

More of Lawyer Lou and Defendant Debbie please 🥺🍁

Part 10. Part 9 is here

Things jumped again, but Debbie was suddenly dizzy, seeing herself and being inside and outside herself. Then there was the night. The arrest. The holding cell. Claude again. Danny dying. Tammy telling her it would be okay. Danny dying, Danny dying. Meeting her. Meeting Lou. Claude again.

We’re going to have a real problem, Deborah so listen up and listen good.

And then she was spinning, black and white tv fuzz before her eyes and the sound of a needle scratching a record as it bumped against the needle again and again and again, out of songs. Out of time. Out of—

“Inmate!”

“Inmate, your lawyer’s here!”

“Ocean!”

“Shit. Shit, can I get backup in here? Block A. Inmate down. There’s an inmate down. D. Ocean.”

“We’re dispatching extra guards. Can you get a read on a pulse?”

Lou rolled her eyes at her phone as it buzzed, skittering across the panel next to the window where it lay. She already knew who it was. And she already knew exactly what it would say.

She finally snatched it before it had the chance to ricochet off the ledge and onto the floor. She didn’t want to wake her or scare her.

Daphne: You shouldn’t be there…

Lou: She’s my client.

Daphne: So you’ve said…

Lou: Fuck off with the ellipses, Kluger

Daphne: You love her, Miller. Admit it.

Lou: I’m doing my job.

Daphne: You wish you were doing her.

Lou: You’re disgusting

Daphne: Interesting, counselor. That didn’t seem like a statement denial

Lou: Don’t you have your own cases to ignore?

Daphne: Lou and Debbie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G

Phone into her pocket it went, as she tried to ignore the burning against her cheeks. Even if Debbie was awake, it’s not like she could see what Daphne was texting her about. But it wasn’t any less ridiculous. She was a professional for fuck’s sake. Crush, attraction, lust. It didn’t matter. She had a case to pursue. A case to win. Debbie deserved to win no matter how she not-so-secretly felt about her. That Becker fucker had literally held her over the fire and coerced her into anything illegal she’d done. Well, aside from some security footage Lou’s paralegal had found a week or so ago showing a not-so-sneaky familiar brunette pilfering from Mac and Chanel counters at a department store. But she thought it was hilarious. Nominal. And a secret she’d decided to keep for herself. It wasn’t relevant to the profile of the case anyhow.

She checked her watch, frowning as the hands ticked by slowly. It had only been a handful of hours, but it felt like days. The beeping sounds in the hospital didn’t make things any better.

Cold. White. Sterile. That smell. She hadn’t been in a hospital since her mother died. She’d been hoping to keep it that way for the rest of her life. A small part of her did wonder how her brain had decided to flip that switch and drive her straight here without hesitation as if it wasn’t even a thought. She had to be there. For Debbie. There was no question. She’d followed the ambulance, tailing it like she was in a car chase, heels scuffing the hospital floors as she skidded through the emergency entrance ignoring the call of the nurse who asked if she was family.

She wasn’t letting Debbie on that gurney out of her sight. Apparently, a murderous rage and a shit ton of confidence was as good as having familial ties to a patient. She’d even gotten them to remove the handcuffs that were keeping Debbie’s wrists locked to the bedrails. She wasn’t an animal. She was a victim. And she was hurt.

Lou’d had to look away, wincing, as she took in Debbie’s hair, matted to her forehead with sweat and her eyes cinched shut. Her skin whiter than a sheet.

Lou didn’t know what she’d heard or done or saw. But she knew the cause. She knew it was Claude.

And passing out in real life was one thing. Passing out on the floor of a cell was another.

Concussion. Stitches. Monitoring brain activity.

Lou’s heart was racing along with the heart monitor as it beeped, her eyes blinking along with the clear IV fluid as it dripped from the bag.

She flung her blazer over the back of her chair, burying her head in her hands. She just needed her to wake up so she could talk to her. Check in with her. Make sure she really was okay. That she knew there was someone there for her. That Lou was there for her. Rooting for her. Fighting for her. Bringing her justice the best way she knew how.

She ruffled her bangs, digging her nails into her scalp before she rubbed at her eyelids, trying to keep awake. She hadn’t slept last night. And the coffee she’d brought to the prison for both her and Debbie was long forgotten. She cursed quietly as she saw the smudged eyeliner on the outside of her thumb.

“Funny seeing you here,” a soft voice spoke. “Is this the part where I get to tell you that you look like shit? Even though I’m the one in the hospital bed?”

“Debbie,” Lou breathed.

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thessalian · 10 months

Text

Thess vs Older Titles

So here we have one of the big problems with this “Always Online” bullshit.

Some games I own, I own in two places. Because Reasons, mostly, I think. One of them is Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning. And one of the things about that one is that all the DLC you get with specific editions can only be accessed when you’re logged into your EA account.

Amalur’s one of the ones I reinstalled on Steam, but apparently it has a tendency to bork out before it even hits the title screen on Steam. Does it on the EA app too, but ironically, that’s easier to deal with - you just run the Repair function and you’re fine. (Or rather, it was; today that fix is not working.)

Then I ran into the other problem of “Okay, it won’t log me into my EA account”.

First thought was “Did I misremember my password?” It’s possible; there’s a lot of autofill on passwords nowadays. So I changed my EA password and ... still no.

Did some Googling. Turns out that in May this year, EA shut down the server that services Amalur. Which means the base game is playable, but I don’t know whether we still get the DLC. I mean, if we have to be logged in for it, I don’t see how we can.

So there it is - I know there are other examples of this, but this is supposed to be a full-on single-player game with no actual need to be linked to Being Online, but they did it to validate DLC, and now they can’t validate DLC anymore because the servers shut down. So everyone who’s starting a new game at this stage loses their DLC, which includes entire zones, I might add, as well as some gear I really liked. Fine, it’s an eleven-year-old game, but ... people play those. *gestures emphatically at Dragon Age*

(I’d be gesturing emphatically at Mass Effect too but the LE kind of made that superfluous.)

Not that it matters when the damn game really does not like Win10 and now I can’t get it to load no matter what I do. I guess I’ll just have to find something else to play. I struggle to decide which game to play, and get my wheel spoked at the outset with tech incompatibility and the problems inherent in lack of physical ownership of product. I mean, I’m trying really hard not to be “Old Man Yells At Cloud” here, but I look at my computer, which didn’t come with a disc drive because that was apparently a more expensive option somehow, and I look at this shit, and I go, “...Honestly, doesn’t anyone miss games where you just owned the disc and you played?” I can see console players being smug but given the online store and subscription services run by the biggies, we’re not far from losing disc drives on consoles either.

There’s a lot I could say about how precarious an existence it is these days. We own less and less, and there’s a security in ownership. There’s knowing that no one can take this away from you on a whim. But most people can’t afford to actually own a home, so they’re beholden to landlords who could play silly buggers with the terms of the lease at more or less any time. Job security doesn’t exist for most people, particularly given “at-will employment”. And as for things like entertainment...

Side bar: If Netflix wasn’t being such a stingy bitch about cancelling programmes before they’re due residuals, I’d probably be more or less okay with the renting of that particular service because I remember a time before all this when we couldn’t afford a VCR or cable TV so we were at the mercy of the networks a lot. And even with cable, it was just more channels where someone else controlled your programming entirely. They do have to consolidate server space somewhere - I just wish they’d do it more with older movies instead of original programming, and that it really was space consolidation instead of screwing the writers and actors and so on out of hard-earned residuals.

For things like video games, though? I mean, come on. How many of us are sitting on games we’ll play eventually but haven’t got around to yet? It’s absolute shit when we do get around to those, only to find out that no, apparently the publisher decided that it’s not profitable for them to run the game that we specifically paid for anymore. It’s one thing when it’s a MMO; it’s another when it’s a single-player game that didn’t have to be online that you paid full price for but suddenly can’t play because the publisher said so. I can live with the technology no longer being compatible because age - it annoys me, but I get it. But they didn’t have to make it need to be online. Yeah, I know, digital rights management, anti-piracy action, blah; it never works anyway and I have a whole other rant about piracy that I don’t really want to go into right now. I just want to be able to own what I bought.

Right. I’ll stop bitching and go find something else to play.

#Thess plays video games

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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

Text

MAG 114 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: cutting apples

Ah yes, Anya Villette. Very close to Anna Willett (or Anne, or Annie...)

Original statement given April 22nd, 2009. Hm. There are some continuity problems regarding Hill Top Road, which also very well may be canon as we can speculate from this statement here. Ivo Lensik's statement (MAG 8) took place in November 2006. Father Burroughs' experience however happened in 2009. No mention about the month I think, but he says in his statement, that it was chilly in 105 Hill Top Road because it didn't have any windows yet due to still being under construction.

"I should know this place, I think. I used to go to the Tate a lot when I lived in London, and I, I passed the building, but…" I've never been to London so I have no idea about this... But... So Google maps says the Chelsea area is further to the west than Millbank. Yet, the Chelsea College of Art & Design is also in Millbank, which we now know Jonny has envisioned for the looks of the Magnus Institute. How?? Why is that stuff called Chelsea when it's not in Chelsea? Sasha implied the Institute is in Chelsea with her "I love the Institute’s building, of course, it’s beautiful, but from a money point of view, I really wish it wasn’t in Chelsea." But Oliver said "All I know for sure is that I realised after some time that the red light was leading me towards Vauxhall and the Thames." and Vauxhall in turn is across the Thames to Millbank! Whyyyy? Is it just some... marketing bullshit? Does Chelsea have a better reputation? (Our neighboring town does that shit *grrml* Calling everything "[river name] valley" when they are outside the mountains and are just flatlands with no valley at all! The river barely brushes them. But I guess it sounds better than "flat fields".)

Movement in the dust sheets for the furniture, the tree with eight branches that apparently makes you have visions... The Web already had a bit of a grip in this world beyond the crack.

"Obviously it was my decision." Was it?

There is again a underlying sociocritical theme. This sense of duty to go all in when it comes to tasks in our jobs. Anya Villette checking the cupboard, even if it wasn't included. Checking the basement, even if there was no word about one. This is something that as been stewing over the course of generations now. Difference is, now the wages are so low, you can barely live with just that. So why go that far for our job if we're not paid adequately?

Interesting to see that there are versions of some of Anya's friends in this world. How? How do they know her if she doesn't exist in this world? Is this also some mind/reality fuckery by the Fears? To spread even more terror?

JON: "Interesting. I’m not really sure what to do with this one. Martin brought it up, said he’d found one that related back to Hill Top Road" Web!Martin!

Tim and Jon just spitting poison at each other between the lines...

JON: "And h– I would like to hear how you’ve been doing." Still, Jon is considerate to not ask any questions. No questions, no accidental compulsion.

TIM: “Nothing with that thing here, no.” Is that the “Not with that thong” blooper? xD

JON: "hat do you think is listening?" TIM: "What?" JON: [Strongly] "What do you think is listening to the tapes?" TIM: "Don’t do that." JON: "Sorry." TIM: "Don’t!" JON: "Sorry, I didn’t –" Aaand it still happened though, and Jon knows it's wrong, the way be immediately backpedals...

TIM: "And you know what I think. It’s that… the thing that runs the Institute. “The Watcher” or “The Eye” or whatever." JON: "I dis… I disagree. This whole place is a temple to The Eye, Tim. I don’t think the tape recorders make any difference." TIM: [Viciously] "Elias, then." JON: "In that case we’ll stick to talking about things he already knows." TIM: "Why are you so set on having it running?" THAT is an interesting conversation to have directly following a Web statement.

TIM: "So why don’t you ‘Archivist’ me, then? Just pull it straight out." JON: "Because I don’t want to. I am not your enemy, Tim." TIM: [Dismissively] "Like that matters. These things aren’t human. It’s… instinct. You can’t not." JON: [Softly] "I’m still me, Tim." [TIM HUFFS] "I’m still me." Arrr, there is so much emotion in these four lines. Jon still has to come to terms with what's happening to him, questioning his own "humanity". People, he doesn't know, already thrown the "not human" card at him and that is one thing. But Tim doing it audibly hurt him.

TIM: "No. How can I be sure who they are? You know how long that thing pretended to be Sasha?" JON: (BACKGROUND) "Oh… Oh god." TIM: "And I had no idea? I knew Sasha for years, we… I don’t know Martin as well as I knew her. I barely know what Melanie and Basira look like. Or that weird murder-cop. How the hell am I supposed to be sure of any of them?" I was wondering why Tim was so adamant on hating Jon. Because it seemed like he was long past the point of hating him for the stalking, which was totally valid. But Jon's hardly at fault for anything that has happened in the Archives. He asked Tim to transfer to the Archives, but usually a transfer also requires a "yes" from the questioned party. Even if not (which I have only encountered in public service, but other countries have other laws...), Jon had no idea what was going on in the Archives. But Tim just not being able to stand Jon (or Martin. I suppose he kinda gives a flying fuck about the others) because it reminds him how he didn't recognize his best friend being killed and replaced it so understandable. And I'm not even speaking of the paranoia this has led Tim into...

JON: "That’s not fair! Sometimes I was kidnapped." TIM: "Which is not a good look for a spy, is it?" The joke this scene definitely needed.

Icarus, the one who flew too close to the sun...

DAISY: "How long have you had that shirt?" [...] JON: "Uh, A-America. I had to borrow it, there was… there was blood." Heheh, love TMA for its vague clothing descriptions!

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 114 #tma #tma spoilers

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usergreenpixel · 1 year

Text

MALMAISON MEDIA SALON SOIRÉE 14: AT ABOUKIR AND ACRE (1898)

1. The Introduction

Hello, Dear Neighbors, and welcome back to Malmaison Media Salon. So, as I’ve said before, today we’re going to talk about a book by G. A. Henty, one of my archenemies!

Why archenemy?

That’s just how I label authors whose shit I reviewed before. Henty’s “wonderful” book about Frev left a bad taste in my mouth for a long time, so I was understandably mistrustful of any other piece of his.

However, after finding out he has one more Frev book AND several Napoleonic ones and this one (About the Egyptian Campaign, between the two eras), I had to make another review in spite of my lower than six feet expectations. So I went on Project Gutenberg to download the ebook for free. That’s where you can get it by the way.

But hey, maybe this book is better than the one I reviewed before. It’s always a possibility, right? The short answer is no. The long answer is not at all.

For an even longer answer, let us finally proceed with the review, which I dedicate to @koda-friedrich , @blackwidowmarshal123 and @aminoscribbles .

2. The Summary

As you might guess from the title, the book is set during the Egyptian campaign and, in classic Henty fashion, has a young English boy as the protagonist.

Edgar Blagrove, the boy in question, is a son of an English merchant who is left behind in Egypt during the war, so the book follows his adventures as he’s trying to survive, reunite with his family and have adventures along the way (as you do).

Even though Henty’s books are targeted at young boys, the premise sounds like something that I would actually enjoy, but I didn’t.

Let’s dissect this book to find out just how bad it gets, shall we?

3. The Story

The beginning isn’t so great. At first the opening scene promises some action, yet the immersion is broken like glass a couple of pages in with heaps upon heaps of Edgar’s backstory. Nice job, Henty…

Luckily, it’s the only time an extensive flashback like this is used, but the pacing can get about as fast as snail because often pieces of information get repeated in dialogues when nothing bad would’ve happened if the author avoided said repetition.

Moreover, while in the first half or so of the story the hero’s ways of getting out of problems stay realistic and justifiable, the second half has Edgar cross so far into Mary Sue territory that he may as well be called Gary Stu.

(Spoilers ahead)

This kid gets hired by SIDNEY FUCKING SMITH as a midshipman and interpreter. I’m not kidding, that’s an actual plot point!

Let me repeat: A kid who DID NOT previously serve in the navy is made midshipman and interpreter by SIDNEY SMITH, who meets said kid by pure coincidence! And only the interpreter part is justified, since Edgar was educated in several languages from a young age and learned the mother tongues of servants and citizens of Cairo too.

That, in all honesty, was the point where I just lost what little investment I had because it just became too apparent that everything will be fine and Edgar will have a happy ending.

4. The Characters

Before crossing the Gary Stu threshold, Edgar actually had potential to be a good character.

He is a reckless kid who was so bored with his monotonous life in Cairo that he wanted to see the English kick the French in the ass.

He cares about his friends, is kind and ready to help his loved ones and sometimes makes risky decisions.

But then he just becomes somebody who is always right and he gets too perfect. So all the potential goes down the drain like a dead goldfish. Hooray…

Sidi, an Arab boy Edgar rescues in the beginning of the story, is a bit more interesting, mainly due to his dynamic with Edgar as basically adopted brothers. He and his family provide Edgar with shelter in their oasis and help him out in a time of need too. Unfortunately, Sidi is a bit of a flat character for someone who gets a pretty major role in the story, but Henty isn’t too good with characters anyway.

Other characters are flat too. To various degrees. Unfortunately, that’s all I can say because there’s a ton of characters.

However, English officers like Nelson and Sidney Smith are whitewashed and glorified to no end. Henty loves sucking the dick of English nationalism, but I already saw that in my other review so no surprise there.

As for the French side of things… I was genuinely surprised that Napoleon was NOT portrayed as Devil Incarnate and it’s mentioned that he does care about his troops.

Many historical figures are name dropped but don’t appear in person, such as Kleber, Desaix, Junot, Menou, etc. Personally, I’m glad they don’t get a cameo in person for several reasons:

A) the book isn’t about them

B) it would be too unrealistic for Edgar to meet those people

C) after the atrocious portrayal of Montagnards, I DO NOT trust Henty with accuracy when it comes to French Republican generals

Eugene de Beauharnais is omitted once again, even though I’m pretty sure he participated in that campaign. Oh well, shout-out to Eugene from me!

5. The Setting

Henty is, once again, bad with settings and his descriptions are, at times, too minimalistic.

I didn’t feel the action in battle scenes, I couldn’t envision the oasis, the streets of Cairo or any other settings. There’s just not enough to achieve immersion.

6. The Writing

The writing is old fashioned, as it was a book written in the 19th century, but for people who are fluent in English there shouldn’t be a lot of issues with comprehending the vocabulary, except maybe all the naval terms that have no definitions given. Grrr…

I can’t necessarily call Henty’s writing awful, but it’s not for me so it didn’t help my overall impression of the book.

7. The Conclusion

Even though it’s not as bad as “In the Reign of Terror” was, it’s still not a book I would recommend and the improvements are insignificant.

Most characters are still flat, the annoying nationalism has still reared its head, the pacing is longer than the Amazon River and the protagonist becomes a Gary Stu in the end.

The verdict? Please find something else to read.

Anyway, the soirée is officially coming to an end. Please stay tuned because more updates are coming soon.

Love,

Citizen Green Pixel

#malmaison media salon #history #historical art #french history #napoleonic literature #napoleonic media #napoleonic art #g a henty #at aboukir and acre #book review #napoleon bonaparte #louis charles antoine desaix #jean baptiste kleber #general menou #eugène de beauharnais #sidney smith #horatio nelson #jean andoche junot

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vaal3nt1na · 10 months

Text

IFHY | kim sunoo x reader

chapter 8 - r u sure u aren’t gay?

warnings ‼️‼️

i don’t think they’re any in this chapter 😧 but lmk if i did miss any

you, heejin, chae, and hina were sat at your usual spot for lunch. the other 3 had their classes in the morning, leaving you with afternoon classes, it’s not like you minded since you got to see sunoo after this.

“and then he told me to just leave if i was going to wear this, like excuse me do you not see the girl in the front with the shortest shorts imaginable?” hina complained, apparently one of her professors had a problem with the shirt she had on, you honestly don’t see the problem. it was a simple shirt, sure it was low cut but we’re all in college so who really cares? “he’s too grown to be acting like that, he has a wife and kids at home.” you replied, you liked indulging in hina’s daily gossip or just complaints.

“i heard his wife and him are getting divorced” chaewon spoke up, placing down the sandwich she was eating. the other two girls asked endless amount of questions and pieced together a shit ton of drama that could potentially cost this man his job.

you were zoned out, scrolling thru the apps on your phone, no longer interested in the conversation the other girls were having. that’s when you noticed a girl approaching you, “excuse me?” she said, snapping you out of your thoughts. she was pretty, gorgeous even, long wavy black hair, pretty eyes, she had good style and she was tall. “yes?” you replied later than you would’ve liked. “do you know where professor lee’s room is at?”

“yes, i have him after this. i can walk you there if you’d like?” her lips curved up before she quickly replied, “i’d like that”

“oh also could i get your number? so you can text me whenever your done and we can head out together.” she asked, her phone in hand. you exchanged numbers and names and she returned to which ever table she was sitting at and you turned back to your friends.

“are you absolutely sure you aren’t gay yn?” heejin asked causing you to laugh. “what are you talking about jinnie? you’ve seen my private twitter account” you said before taking a sip from your drink.

“you looked like you were in love with that girl!”

“i just think she’s pretty” you shrugged, knowing heejin meant the whole thing as a joke.

heejin, chae, and hina left after saying there goodbyes and giving you hugs. shortly after you and sujin were walking thru the halls, “so, why’d you come here?” you peered over at her, she had a beautiful smile, it seemed to never leave her face. “i was living with my parents, it was hell i hated it so much, so i saved up and came here. they hated the idea of it but i’m an adult so i could care less” you made an o shape with your mouth. “i understand, my mom was the opposite tho, she wanted me out as soon as possible” you laughed along with sujin.

she was nice enough, had a nice sense of humor and reminded you a lot of sunoo. maybe its how she always has a smile plastered across her pretty features or how smooth her voice is, you really can’t tell. hell it might even be both. soon you made it to the class room, walking in together, laughing about some snarky remark sujin had made about the professors outfit.

sunoo was already seated, his eyes immediately fell on you, seeing you laugh like that sent butterflies straight to his stomach. your smile had to be the prettiest he’s ever seen, your laugh is his favorite sound, it plays on loop in his head. however your laugh is what makes him question why exactly your laughing, that’s when he noticed the taller(or shorter) girl next to you. sure she was pretty but sunoo would much rather look at you.

“where’s your seat?” you looked to see sunoo already seated, you pointed to the seat next to him. “there”

“so, where should i sit?” you scan the room for an empty seat, finally you find one right behind you and sunoo. “that one is empty, you can sit there” you continued the conversation from earlier as you walked to your seats. ending it almost as soon as it started.

“didn’t know you had friends other than hina, chaewon and heejin” sunoo said, as he pulled out a pencil and notebook. you rolled your eyes, “can you shut up?” he shook his head,

“i’m afraid not love” the pet name slid out of his mouth so smoothly and easily, it was as if he was saying your name. sunoo realizes this too, he’s been doing this whole petname thing since high school, yet you still aren’t used to it.

sunoo stuns himself with how easily it comes out. “would you quit it with those names” you groaned out, using your hair to shield yourself from him so he doesn’t see your flustered state. “never,” he pauses and you make the mistake of looking at him, his lips curve into a familiar smile, yet you react the same way you did the first time you realized your feelings for him and saw him smile like this. “my love” he says in a hushed tone, as to make it feel like it’s only for your ears.

you feel the heat rush up your neck and creep up your cheeks and to the tips of your ears. “stop” you whispered back, quickly turning your head back to your text books.

suddenly you feel a vibration in your pocket. hesitantly you pull it out, in some part of your head you wished it was sunoo.

previous | masterlist | next

☆ an - um so i lied 😍 chapter 9 and 10 might have written parts just bc idk how i would describe the events that r supposed to happen in text or tweet form yk? so im sorry 😞 but my wrist hurts now and i don’t wanna ever write again and i didnt re read it bc i aint reading allat‼️‼️ but new character?!!!?? how do u feel abt her? i felt like i needed to add a character so sujin is here now!!! n e ways, i’m very sorry that this is saur long me personally my jaw would’ve dropped if i saw there was a new chapter and it was this fucking long like what anyway i’m done talking have a nice night day or afternoon 💋💋!!

TAGLIST - open!

@arizejkt19 @yanagisprettygf @naddii @kkalechip @valentineluvr

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waywardnerd67 · 2 years

Text

Midnight in Austin

Title: Midnight In Austin Summary: Loving her was the only constant he had in life, but was it enough to drag her down in the mess of a life he lived. Main Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Rating: M - Mature Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Implied Smut Word Count: 1854 A/N: I’m currently obsessed with “Rock and a Hard Place” by Bailey Zimmerman and Dean has been on my mind a lot. Lyrics are bold.

Strong hands tightened around the steering wheel as another mile marker passed by. The stars were shining bright with the full moon in the night sky. The only other lights were from the headlights on his Baby. Dean had crossed over the Texas state line an hour ago and still had a couple of hours until he reached his destination. His tape deck was broken leaving only the local stations for noise. Apparently everything station knew what kind of mood he was in because every sad, crooning, country song played one after another.

He could feel his eyelids slipping down under the weight of exhaustion. He smacked the side of his face a few times to wake himself up.

“Damn, I could use my Zeppelin mixtape right now.” He reached over into the green cooler riding shotgun and pulled out a soda to get some caffeine in him.

He needed to get to Austin, no matter how tired he was. If he could get to Austin then everything would be alright. He could make everything right. He had to or else everything was meaningless. Chugging the soda down and letting out a loud carbonated blech, Dean pressed on the accelerator launching Baby faster down the empty highway.

As soon as he was within the city limits of Austin, his heart settled to a steady beat. Only one other place had brought him the comfort and peace that Austin did. The city was not particularly the reason but the person who resided there. Cruising on auto pilot, the memory of his last visit filled his mind.

One Year Earlier

Dean sat on the edge of the bed looking down at the beautiful woman sleeping peacefully. To this day, she could take his breath away. His heart raced in her presence and his body demanded to be pressed against her in any way it could be. However, his mind always reminded him that they could never truly be together the way they had always talked about.

He stood, turning from her to walk away when her soft hand grabbed his, “Don’t leave.”

“You know I have to.” His heart cracked saying it out loud.

(Y/N) stood up grabbing one of his many shirts that always seemed to be left behind. She pulled up her panties and laced her hands on her hips. She was gearing up for a fight and Dean did not know if he had it in him to do this again.

“We've been swingin' and missin'. It ain't broke yet, but damn, it needs fixin'. Been a while since your kiss felt like kissin'. It's just different.”

Another crack echoed in his chest, “(Y/N)... I can’t do this…”

She went to say something, but he continued before she could.

“We've been talkin' 'bout forever since we've been together. Somethin' 'bout a ring makes you think we're better off with all this but we're caught in between a rock and a hard place. Red wine and mistakes. Tears rollin' down your face. When I walked out that door.”

“Then don’t go, Dean!” She yelled, fresh tears falling down her cheeks, “We’ve been together since we were twenty-six. I stuck around when you ran off to get your brother from college and work for your dad. I was there when you lost him and cried all night in my arms. I was there when you were gone for four months without a word and no explanation. What else do I need to do to prove to you that I’m in this for the long run?”

Every word sliced through him like a knife. She had no clue about his life, his real job and all the ugly shit he dealt with. She still could see a light at the end of this tunnel. She could still feel hope for the world around them. He would be damned if he would tarnish that with all the darkness that surrounded him.

“That’s the problem, (Y/N). No matter what, no matter what I would tell you… you would stay. I can’t bring this shit home to you. I won’t bring it home to you.” He let out a shaky breath, “For the record, shit… Throwin' in the towel takes some effort. So I'd rather ride it out for better weather. Together, but I can’t.”

Dean turned on his heel heading for the door quickly. He tried to block out her calling out his name and begging for him to stay.

“Dean! What the hell's this all for? Dean, answer me! Is this where it mends or it breaks? Damn it, for once just talk to me! How much more of this can we take? Dean! DEAN!”

He made it through the front door slamming it behind him as an agonizing sob ripped out of (Y/N)’s mouth. A final crack snapped his heart into two, the pieces crushing his lungs making it difficult to breathe. He got into Baby and drove like a bat out of hell not looking back at (Y/N) or Austin.

Present Day

Dean sat in Baby a few houses down from (Y/N)’s. She still had her beat up Jeep that he spent hours and hours fixing for her. Parked next to it was a newer Ford sedan he did not recognize. He had not been delusional enough to think that in a year, (Y/N) had not moved on, but he did not have to like it.

A beam of light came from her door as a man walked out to the car. For the first time in a year, his eyes landed on (Y/N) and immediately his body, mind, soul was desperate to be beside her. She leaned against the door watching as the car drove down the street. When the car passed by Dean, he watched as her body went rigid as her eyes landed on Baby.

Dean looked up to the rearview to see the taillights disappearing before driving down to her driveway. The front door was still opened as he walked up.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hi (Y/N)...” He paused for a moment before the question burning in his mind popped out, “Who was the guy?”

Her beautiful (Y/C/E) eyes rolled, “Really? You ran out over a year ago and think you can ask me that?”

“When I walked out that door and that's when I lost it. A midnight in Austin between a rock and a hard place.”

(Y/N) scoffed, “That was your choice, Dean. You could have stayed… we could have worked things out. You left… and I had to pick up the pieces you broke and move on.”

The void in his chest throbbed, “So, you have moved on?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but…” She let the moment of agonizing silence linger, “No. He’s a friend that I’m designing a website for. He was anxious to get home to his husband.”

Relief rushed over him, “Ah…” Dean looked around her house seeing it mostly unchanged from a year ago.

“Dean, why are you here?”

He watched her walk over to her liquor cabinet and pull out a bottle of whiskey. She spun the cap off on the table and took a long drink straight from the bottle.

“I want to make things right. I want to tell you everything.”

She handed him the bottle, “Well then, may I offer you some liquid courage?”

He took the bottle and let the burn run its course over his body. His eyes never left hers as they traveled down his body. A familiar spark ignited deep within him watching her eyes darken. Dean walked slowly towards her, backing her toward the nearest wall sitting the bottle on the table next to them.

“D-Dean…” She whispered.

“I’m going to kiss you. I promise I’ll explain everything, but only after I kiss you.”

The moment his lips pressed against hers, everything in his world was set right. Scooping down, he picked her up and wrapped her legs around him. Moaning into her mouth as her hands went up into his hair. His heart was racing and his body ached in wonderful need to feel (Y/N)’s bare body against his as soon as possible. As they entered her room and tumbled onto the mattress in a fit of giggles and chuckles he paused for a moment.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do anything you don’t.” He asked, hovering over her.

She began to chuckle as her hands ran down his body stopping at his belt, “If you can’t tell that I want this then it has been too long since you’ve gotten any.” Her hand slipped into his pants stroking him slowly.

“I’ve only ever wanted to love you.”

Her hand stopped bringing forth a whimper from his lips as she spoke, “Then get naked and make love to me.”

When Dean opened his eyes, he saw midnight flashing on (Y/N)’s clock. Looking down, he found (Y/N) peacefully sleeping on his chest. Running his fingers down her bare back, grateful to have her in his arms again.

“You’ve kissed me… and various spots on my body,” He chuckled as she continued, “Now start talking.”

“We were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Red wine and mistakes. Tears rollin' down your face. When I walked out that door and that's when I lost it. A midnight in Austin and damn, I was exhausted.”

She sighed, resting her chin on her hands looking up at him, “I remember… I was there.”

Dean tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “I nearly ran back inside when I heard you crying on the other side of the door.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Such a simple question had a complicated answer and for the first time in his life, Dean held nothing back. Who he and his brother were, what they did, all the family business came out of his mouth.

“So that’s everything. I left that night, because I had to go fight God with my brother and our kid. Now the world is safe… kind of. There are still people who need saving and things that have to be hunted. The family business continues, but Sam and I agreed to live our lives as much as possible.”

Dean sat up resting his back against the headboard as (Y/N) curled into his side, “What does that mean for the Winchester boys?”

Dean smiled, “Well Sam is currently at one of our friends, Bobby’s cabin with who will hopefully one day be my badass sister-in-law. As for me, well…”

He lifted (Y/N) up to straddle his waist. His hands drifted up her body to the sides of her face bringing her lips to his.

“We've been talkin' 'bout forever since we've been together. No better time than right now for us to start a life together. Just know, I’ll have to leave from time to time to head back to the Bunker. For now, I want to spend my midnights in Austin.”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

For updates please follow #waywardnerd67fics

Taglist: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @destiel745 @carribear31 @whimsicalrobots @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @imascio08 @mannls @time-travel-bouqet @myinconnelly1 @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @stoneyggirl @mimaria420 @emoryhemsworth @atc74 @cosicas-cuquis @stixnstripesworld @sexyvixen7 @samsgirl93 @perpetualabsurdity @deanwanddamons @smoothdogsgirl @lyarr24 @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @dnnwnchstr22 @nancymcl

#waywardnerd67fics #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural

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missnight0wl · 1 year

Text

Alright, alright. But let’s talk about R and Death Eaters.

So, in Y7Ch48, Peregrine is very upset about Death Eaters in the Ministry, right?

And honestly, when I was reading it, I was like: “Girl, what were YOU doing at the devil’s sacrament??”.

Seriously, how he is so certain of any of that? I mean, okay, maybe Rookwood’s case was known to the public, but still. I’m pretty sure that the Imperius Curse was pretty commonly used during the war. And I’m pretty sure that’s actually the reason why Malfoy and Macnair were able to use it as a believable excuse. Y’know, because things like that happened. On top of that, there’s no implication that Peregrine knows either of them well enough to have personal reasons not to believe them. So… what gives?

Imagine that a person in your workplace gets stomach flu. Then, the second one and the third one report that they’re vomiting for hours. When Johnny says that he has stomach problems as well, you’re probably not assuming that he’s lying, unless you know that Johnny is a slacker who would use any excuse not to come to work. But even then, you should admit that it’s quite probable that Johnny got sick for real this time.

So again, what’s the deal with Peregrine vs Malfoy and Macnair?

Admittedly, the writers might be simply trying to use it against the audience. Because we know that Malfoy and Macnair are indeed Death Eaters. Therefore, in theory, we’re more likely to get tricked and believe that Peregrine has a point here. You know what I mean? However, from the story's point of view, it just doesn’t really make a lot of sense.

And at first, I thought that I feel off about it simply because I’m always suspicious of Peregrine. But then, I remembered that there actually is a specific reason to be suspicious about it. Because back in Y6, Moody told us:

Now, I know it’s bold of me to assume that JC is capable of this kind of continuity, but… what if Peregrine knows about Death Eaters in the Ministry and is so certain about it because he was told about it by former Death Eaters who are now members of R? I mean, doesn’t this kind of hypocrisy suits Peregrine perfectly?

Interestingly, if you choose Barnaby in Y7Ch51, Peregrine says:

And like… DUDE. Barnaby’s parents are Death Eaters. So what, Death Eaters at the Ministry are bad, but if Verucca speaks highly of someone, it’s suddenly their advantage?

Just admit you’re jealous of Lucius’s fabulous hair, Perry, and so it’s a personal issue. I don’t know what’s his problem with Macnair, but I could believe that Peregrine wanted to be an executioner and Macnair snatched this job right out of his hands.

Oh, and by the way. I’m kind of surprised that Talbott’s past wasn’t mentioned at all if you choose him.

Talbott’s parents were killed by Death Easters, so technically, he has the most believable cover to come to the meeting: he learnt that R is against Death Eaters at the Ministry, so he wanted to know more about the organisation and their plans. But apparently, it’s too complicated reasoning…

Anyway! Here’s possibly another example of Peregrine being a piece of shit! I don’t know if it might lead to anything more, but I thought I can share it either way.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm datamine #hphm peregrine #hphm r #barnaby lee #talbott winger #analysis post

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aurumacadicus · 2 years

Text

Fictober 9/31 -- “Sounds like a you problem.”

Lottie’s back! And sassier than ever! Surprising absolutely no one, she is a twin, but she is also The Baby because her twin saw one older kid give her a look askance when finding out she was a mutant and decided from then on that it was her job to protect Lottie. This comes back to bite both of them in the butt but that’s for a future installment.

“I’m leaving,” Lottie announced to the room at large. She watched as each Avenger swiveled to face her with various expressions of shock and dismay and remembered, belatedly, that that wasn’t how people normally announced they were going out. So she added, unhelpfully, “I mean, I’ll be back. Eventually.”

“That sounds ominous,” Thor told her, with far more pleasantness than it probably deserved.

“Sorry. My family would usually answer ‘good riddance’ and then ask what time I’d be back,” Lottie offered, shuffling in place. “I’m going out. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Where are you going?” Clint asked.

Lottie turned to blink at him, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Nosy much?”

Natasha put her foot on his shoulder and shoved him off the couch, ignoring his squawk. “Just in case something happens,” she said, looking over at Lottie. “Like if your phone dies, or you need us to come get you in a hurry, or… villains attack New York.” She scowled a little. “It’s Tuesday. They usually don’t attack on Tuesday.”

“You said it out loud and jinxed everything,” Tony exclaimed, wounded.

Natasha looked like she was in physical pain. “I regretted it even as I said it.”

Lottie crossed her arms over her chest and frowned thoughtfully. “Um, well, since apparently an attack is now imminent, I’m just meeting my old neighbor to go shopping. We’re going to the Asian market and then lunch. We normally don’t pick a place until we finish shopping. I can text when we decide, if you want.”

“That would be really nice, Lottie. Thanks,” Steve said, smiling at her.

She smiled back. “I promise I won’t act like I’m fucking off forever next time.”

“If you’re going to the Asian market, will you get me some chili oil?” Bruce added, looking up from his book. “I used the last of mine and was just going to have JARVIS order some, but if you’re going out—”

“That sounds like a you problem,” Lottie replied, on instinct, then grimaced. She pulled out her phone. “Sorry. Force of habit. I’m the youngest of three so I’m really annoying sometimes without meaning to be. I’ll make a note right now.”

“Oh, shit, if you find any, will you get me some wasabi-soy rice crackers?” Tony asked, leaning over the back of the couch. “Just use the credit card I gave you for the whole order.”

“Wasabi… soy,” Lottie muttered, tapping it into her phone. “And chili oil. Okay. If anyone needs anything else, just text me, and I’ll see if I can find it.”

There was a scuffling noise. She looked up to find that Clint had wrapped an arm around Natasha’s neck. Natasha looked like she was about to make him regret it. She looked back down at her phone. She had sisters. She’d learned to mind her own business. If they were getting into a scuffle about him being nosy, she wasn’t going to get involved.

Then she jerked her head back up. “Oh my god. Wait. Are you guys doing that thing my parents did? Who are you going with, will their mom be there? I’m an adult.”

Steve and Bruce, at least, had the decency to wince. “You’ve… made it quite clear that you feel unsafe outside,” Steve finally admitted. “So are you really that surprised we’re curious?”

Lottie sucked in a deep breath, then let it back out in a sigh. “I guess not.” She dropped her arms and swung them a few times, trying to shake out the irritation she’d felt. “She’s my neighbor from the apartment building I moved from. Mrs. Tse. We met in the laundry room. She gets lonely because her kids are away at college, and I said I’d smelled her cooking some nights and it smelled really good, so she picks out a new recipe for me to make each month, and we go shopping for it, and then we go out to lunch. It lets her get a little mothering in, and I get to practice my Cantonese.”

“You know Cantonese?” Bruce asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I’ve got like… a two-hundred-day streak on Duolingo,” Lottie replied with a shrug. “I’m really excited. I’ve been working on my nasal tones so now maybe Mr. Cheung won’t make fun of me when I say ‘orange.’”

Natasha looked up from casually strangling Clint with her thighs. “‘Orange’ is a hard word. Good on you for practicing. Have fun, Lottie,” she added. “We definitely won’t be following you two.”

“Wow! That’s not convincing. Thanks anyway, I guess. Don’t bring Thor,” Lottie added, checking her purse for her wallet. “He’s very visible. No offense, Thor.”

“I’ll forgive you if you bring me something sweet,” Thor replied, unoffended.

“Something sweet,” Lottie murmured, typing it into her phone as well. “Anyway I’m going to be late if I don’t leave. Bye for real now.”

“Be safe!” Tony called out after her. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Lottie blinked at him. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Nodded, deciding she wasn’t going to say anything.

“Don’t do a lot of what he would do, either,” Steve added, and Lottie ran into the elevator to the sound of Tony’s offended squawk.

#aurumacadicus writes #original character #marvel #fictober

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kariachi · 9 months

Text

Random: Trying to get a sense of an ‘average’ lifetime egg count based on the numbers in Dragon Skies, even though they don’t line up with numbers from earlier books. Though I’m looking through Moreta right now and 25 eggs with a prospective gold is described as being "superb” for a queen at the end of a Pass, which would still make the 15 eggs per clutch mentioned in the later book on the low end, especially since Nemorth was getting shat on for 12, and we had golds early in the Pass laying clutches of 30+... And in Dragon Skies the gold mentioned is clutching every other Turn which with 15 eggs per clutch is supposedly plenty enough to do their share in maintaining the Weyr, but then other books have fuckers Rising every Turn...

It’s a mess, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to work out some numbers on how many eggs we should be expecting in a queen’s lifetime if these later numbers are accurate to the norm. Just means when we do out own work we need to shuffle numbers and make them work for what we’re doing- which is supposed to be the writers’ jobs but apparently nobody could make up their minds.

Anyway- 15 eggs a year every other year. Now the big question comes in ‘how long can a queen be expected to Rise?’. Of course this is going to depend, for instance based on this timeline I can find Nemorth first Rose- or at least first did so successfully- at age 7, while Ramoth seems to have been at age 2, but again we can assume this is an Interval vs Pass thing.

Actually, if we use that to explain then it gives us a potential standard space between clutches for the different periods of time- this is all theory but if dragons have as much time between clutches as it takes to mature then an Interval queen could be expected to lay every 7 or so years and we still get this every other years for the Pass number.

But, carrying on, we’re talking Pass numbers so we’re assuming a queen lays at 2 years old and then every other Turn after that until she becomes too old and/or worn to Rise. So we need a number for that, hence why I am looking at Moreta. Which then gives us the problem of never actually telling us how fucking old Leri and Holth are. We can assume from what we learn in it that dragons keep breeding until they're very old, however, Holth had only just stopped rising a few Turns before the start of the story and she and Leri are consistently described as old and arthritic, and Leri even implies that the two of them are on their last legs. So, we have to start estimating shit.

In Masterharper we’re told riders live well into their hundreds, but we’re not given any other back-up to that that I can remember or have read so, going with base human lifespan estimates for this one. More likely riders more typically live to an older age just because they have better access to care or good food than the masses, but still within a normal range. Now, even in the Middle Ages 60 was considered elderly, and arthritis becomes more likely after hitting 50 pretty much as a rule, and regular exercise make living longer more likely... Cane use is common in those 65+... If we go with medieval averages then 50 years would be a good baseline lifespan for regular folk who who reach adulthood, another 10-15 years on that wouldn’t be a shocker for riders, put Leri above that and it would make sense she’s so flippant about her time having passed and really it’s about time she died so she and Holth can rest...

So, for the sake of the math we’ll put Leri at 70, plenty old enough that she can still describe herself as having ‘few’ old friends left while still allowing for normal human age ranges and riders living longer on average than the commonfolk. Going with this Holth would’ve stopped Rising when Leri was 68, the average age of a gold-candidate is about 20, so we can estimate dragons Rise to mate until they’re somewhere in the vicinity of 50.

She would have had to miss Rising, so her last clutch would have been two years before she officially was listed past breeding, and this would be the norm, so we can assuming a Pass queen, using these numbers we’re working with, would have about 24 clutches in their lifetime. If each of those clutches is 15 eggs then she would be laying about 360 eggs in her lifetime.

Of course the numbers differ depending on how old Leri was which changes how long we can estimate dragons Rising (for instance if she was in her 110s, 120s, then Holth was likely nearly a century old if not older and would have laid closer to 50 clutches), how often they Rise (since the books can’t decide whether they Rise every other Turn or every Turn, and we know the time between clutches varies from Pass to Interval), and how many eggs are in a clutch (is 35 a proper number? 25? 15? 10? Nobody can make up their damn mind). But, it’s a number to work with.

Cut me some slack, I can’t work too many miracles with this series.

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