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youwontlikethisblog · 3 years

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Betty! My Betty.

Two post in a day, or window of twenty four hours!

Finally we make it to the day of the new collection launch.

Now in the previous post I wrote I made note that we had established that Armando trusted, unwavering, Betty. He knew of her fidelity and trusted her for it.

He questioned her but, by the time she leaves he quits his show of being mad at her and asked Mario what he thought of what she had said.

Now I want to add some points here that discribe and prove my theory that Armando was already having feelings outside of work related feelings towards Betty.

1) When Mario tells Armando that Marcela has no idea who she's talking to we know he means that Betty is the owner of Eco Moda, therefore she shouldn't be yelling at her but Armando thinks otherwise as he tells him "I know! She's my guardian angel!" which once more proves that Armando wasn't mistrusting of Betty and his concern was with how Betty treats him and how she is with him, unconditional.

2) When Mario starts with his paranoia again Armando defends her, defends his trust, and lets us all know that he would never doubt Betty nor her unconditionality and fidelity.

3) That day Armando behaved differently towards Betty.

We've all at some point in middle or high school gone to google and searched "how to tell that he likes me." and the very obvious answers in every post is that he finds excuses to be near you, finds excuses to touch you, blah blah blah, and very cliché this begins to happen. I already had my theory that as the show progressed to this point of the story that Armando found excuses to touch Betty such as when he starts to rub her shoulders as he is telling her that he's very aware of her loyalty and all she does for him, hugging her, to then asking her to stay in meetings, being confused when she doesn't sit next to him whereas before Betty could sit anywhere in the meeting room that wasn't near him (don't quote me on this I didn't pay much attention to the first few episodes because I was zoned out most of the time)and he didn't care. During the business with Macro Textil he was leaning towards her as they discussed with Ms. Colombia and the guy incharge of sells. Which I already talked about this in another post as well where he finally stops having all eyes on Ms. Colombia and is absorbed by Betty.

At the meeting the day before the launch Armando pulls a chair for Betty and tells her to sit by him and when she goes to sit he pulls his chair closer to her and leans towards her, when he usually is always leaning to his right, he now leans towards his left, where Betty is. That's not the only noticeable change. When Marcela starts yelling and insulting Betty, Armando visibly looks ticked off until he finally raises his voice at her and then adjusted his tone and talked to her calmly. Then later that night when Marcela and him are together discussing Claudia, Armando tells her that he can't do anything because Hugo will throw a fit, then Marcela decides to let her vandetta with Claudia go and asks for another head, to which Armando says anyone's head.

Remember how I said that Armando is really dumb with feelings and that when he has them he blurts them out unthinkably and then proceeds to correct himself?

Here Marcela gives him the ultimatum; Claudia's head or Betty's head.

Armando pulls away from her and says no, to which Marcela asks "You can't do it or you don't want to?" and he says "I don't want to- I can't." and he looks bothered by the idea of it. Like a kid told to share his toys with someone. We then see him feeling guilty over Betty being the owner of Eco Moda because Marcela is saying that she's gotta run everything by Betty.

The last point was a long one :)

Armando still yells at Betty and he still is a crappy boss but the last two days he has blended and blurred the lines so much while Betty has remained a good employee and kept boundaries with him.

Now this is the scene we've all been waiting for.

Armando finds out that Nicolas is Betty's "platonic love".

The day starts off with Marcela going to yell at Betty, as one does, and Armando seems bothered by it, while before it did bother him it wasn't much where he interacted or reacted to it. As he said he knew Betty could handle of them[Paty and Marcela].

Now one could simply say "But this is all because of Eco Moda and Betty is the owner now and he doesn't want her to turn against them."

Had that been the intention of the writer we wouldn't had gotten any of the previous details mentioned in the previous post. We wouldn't be seeing the subtle change, the blending of their personal lives, the obvious act of defending Betty against Mario's paranoia and the obvious stupidity of Armando towards his feelings.

Remember! Armando wasn't paranoid and he sure as hell wasn't questioning Betty's loyalty to him.

So if he isn't having those feelings? Why does he all of a sudden run to her aid against Marcela? Why does he not only defend his decision to hiring Betty as he did in the past but Betty's role and job in Eco Moda?

Here's the thing we all need to understand Armando is somewhat smart in his line of work. He knows how to manipulate, convince, and make deals. He is a very mechanical guy. Women enter him through his eyes. We've seen him be a womanizer and seggs is the way to his heart. Which is exactly why he was so stupid and clueless about his feelings towards Betty because unlike all the other woman, Betty didn't enter him through the eyes or sex. She did through action and personality and it all comes crashing down in this very scene. However, Armando is very stupid and I mean colossally stupid when it comes to feelings. He is a mechanical man, even in his relationship with Marcela, his parents, his best friend, his lovers, and he isn't fazed by people's emotions. He is uncomfortable with them and as a person who happens to be the same, when it comes to recognizing feelings and defining them as what they are it's really hard to do that when you spend your time avoiding and running away from any feeling and it can take months for someone to identify those feelings. Which is why the subtle changes and his reaction to this news leaves him uncomfortable, confused, and most of all scared and he tries to justify and identify these feelings as other things. Once again I talk from personal experience.

The writing from the previous episodes is meant to bring all of this together. Scenes that we might asume had nothing to do with the romance between B and A all of a sudden hold a lot of weight here. For example the scene when Sofia cries over her husband's lover working there, it shows Armando visibly uncomfortable as he turns to Betty's office and looks like he wants to stand up and leave the room when he sees her crying. However the last time Betty cried in front of him without her even asking or making any insinuation of it, Armando goes to hug her so he can comfort her. Mariana once said that he could watch someone cry and be unfazed by it but we had two more incidents previous to that that show us little by little how he begins to change for Betty. If they weren't important than we wouldn't had gotten them.

Bertha burst into his office with a smile on her face. Armando is as normal and typical as always, Betty enters the room and hands him the paperwork for him to sign.

That's when Bertha mentions that "Your love, your boyfriend, Nicolas Mora just called you!" and we get a close up of Armando's face(they wouldn't have shown us this if it weren't important). His eyes are focused on Betty, brows narrow, lips on a line and nostrils flared, meaning my boy is mad. When Betty asks if he signed the papers, without breaking eye contact with her, with a very serious and dead tone he tells her he did and hands them to her.

Skip a scene ahead we then see Armando exiting Betty's office, head down, shaking his head, looking confused and angry. When Mario walks in he asks if something happened and Armando nods, goes back into her office, steps back out and leans against the door frame, wrapping his arms around himself which is something people do to self sooth and he proceeds to tell Mario that something very grave has happened. Mario's facial expression shows worry.

Now let's go back to the episode when Betty gave Armando the papers that showed that Eco Moda was now under seizure for the debt they had with Terra Moda, how his voice was during that, which was somber. We know it hurt him to see that and that it was a hard thing to accept as he studied that most of the scene. Here in this scene he has the exact same tone of voice, somber, which means he is truly bothered and sad over Betty having a boyfriend.

Mario then proceeds to laugh and joke about it. Armando angrily tells him that the monstrete that he is making fun of is the owner of Eco Moda now and then his voice changes to say "She has a boyfriend." to which Mario again proceeds to make fun of. We see Armando's body language, he turns his back for a brief second, he doesn't look at Mario or make eye contact while he is making those jokes and for a split second we see a confused look on his face.

What does this mean? Armando sudden change of heart and his frustration towards the news aren't solely based on Eco Moda for what he continues to make apparent and continues to repeat is that Betty has a boyfriend because that's what he is hung up about.

I'm sorry I keep saying let's go back to a post or episode but this all comes imploding here, now, to prove the theory. Remember how I mentioned that Armando seemed unbothered by Nicolas and even defended him against Mario and his paranoia?

When Mario asks who the unfortunate person was Armando does as he does best, react emotionally.

All of a sudden Armando is furious as he refers to Nicolas. All of a sudden the person who he himself said was trustworthy, who he assured Mario was someone Betty collaborates with becomes an idiot and an object of disdain to Armando.

While Mario seems more concerned over the company and who the owner is; Armando seems more concerned over the fact that Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend.

He then proceeds to tell Mario how he found out and he tells it like he were telling him something traumatic, he is stuttering every few words, pacing, talking fast, unable to sit for more than a second and mocking, something we later see as a jealousy act of his, and gets angry( he makes it more dramatic by saying that Bertha said Nicolas was Betty's eternal love, her lover) when he gets to the point of the story that they talked about Betty's boyfriend in front of him which lets us know he felt it was disrespectful for Betty to do that.

What kind of boss thinks it's disrespectful for their employee to have a boyfriend and talk about it in front of them?

One that likes you and thinks there's something special going on between you two.

My theory is that Armando wasn't in love with Betty at this point but he was mixing up his feelings because he liked her and felt possessive over her. He felt that Betty's unconditionality, fidelity, loyalty, and faithfulness was all towards him and that made him feel special(when Betty was offered that commission by RagTela when she confessed it to Armando he went to her and told her he was glad he was a part of such an important test in her life which feeds the idea that he felt special to her) because of course, the "ugly" girl would never have a boyfriend to give all that to and he felt special to be the one to receive that from her without Betty asking for anything in return. Those exact qualities were the things that lead Armando to even have feelings for her(that he's not aware of) and all of a sudden there's someone who could be receiving those exact same qualities of Betty's and more which makes him react the way he does.

In his own words what offended him most (which means he was offended by Betty and Bertha talking about her personal love life in front of him) was that Betty didn't say anything about it.

Why is that?

Up to this point we've seen Armando slowly blur the lines of personal and work with Betty. Little by little we see him let his guard down, expressing his inner thoughts and feelings regarding his biggest burden and how it'll affect him. Betty knows him very well and he is very well aware of that as he tells her that he knows she understands more than anyone what he's doing while Armando barely knows anything about her. He knows she's got ethics, morals, and principles she sticks by. He knows her family and how humble and moral they are. He knows the most important parts of her character that makes her a trustworthy employee but he knows nothing about Betty's personal life like Betty does his.

In his own words again he says "I don't know, I don't know why she didn't confide in me. Me who has been very special to her-" please, let me bring you back to the past. In a post I mentioned that every time Betty gave him more of herself her rewarded her by doing the same in return. For example, when Betty showed loyalty to him he became more kind to her. When Betty showed unconditionality he showed loyalty. We begin to see a pattern of behavior. Whilst Betty's affection is shown through means of work and being respectful and having boundaries with him and living off her daydreams, Armando's is different. His affection is shown by blurring the lines between personal and work. By giving more of himself to her in an emotional sense.

He then concludes to say "This hurts me a lot, listen to me Calderon, I don't like this at all." Mario's perspective is that Amranod is worried for the same thing he is: Eco Moda. However Armando is on a different solar system as Mario tells him they should have investigated her more and again Armando goes to defend her. Saying that she is unconditional and has always been loyal to him. That he knows her perfectly, wouldn't you say this contradicts the plan?

"How the hell was I supposed to imagine that Betty! My Betty... would have a boyfriend?"

Armando then gives way to paranoia saying that Betty's personal life is deeply entwined with his, the companies, and his family's personal lives. Which means that Mario's seed of paranoia has now began to flourish in Armando and it shows his confusion. One moment he is defending Betty, the next he is questioning her. One second he is sure of her loyalty and the next he is worried about her having Eco Moda.

This is when the roles switch. In the previous days and scenes when Mario was paranoid Armando truthfully defended Betty and her loyalty. He was so sure of it but why does her having a boyfriend change that? Because Armando felt betrayed by Betty. He felt that she should have told him this. In other words Armando feels bamboozled because he isn't Betty's special man and now instead of Mario being the paranoid one he is the one to remind Armando that Betty is trustworthy. He tells him that Betty says "He's important for the company." and that the fact he's her boyfriend doesn't change anything he then proceeds to ask "Or what? You jealous?" and Armando laughs.

Notice his body language? He's biting his thumb nail, eyebrows arched and eyes worried. Yes, he is paranoid but he's also now struggling with the feelings that are left behind from the revelation that Betty has a boyfriend.

This will be part 1 of the next couple of episodes to break down Armando's inner struggle and why he is so stupid.

I need to get some rest lol

#armando mendoza #Mario Calderon #betty ysblf #don armando #nicolas mora #yo soy betty la fea #beatriz pinzón solano #armando ysblf #betty la fea #i need to go to sleep

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youre-fired-s-seaborn · 3 years

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So you guys are never going to guess what I just did.

I might possibly be writing a tww fic (FOR REAL THIS TIME I PROMISE) and I just finished the first little snippet so I thought I’d share that with y’all!

It’s going to be several chapters, each one from the POV of a different senior staff member, basically just a random collection of scenes where everyone Works Out their Issues. Official summary= The senior staff + Donna think about the past, how far they’ve come, heartbreak, hard times, sleep deprivation, and what family means to them over a ginormous bowl of popcorn.

(Part backstory headcanons, part character study, part found family, part random other shit?? I have no clue where this came from tbh. Anyway enjoy this rambly dumpster fire) (the popcorn is figurative)

Part one is Sam, and I’m sure none of you are surprised 😋 Enjoy!!!!

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When Samuel Norman Seaborn was a kid, ‘I want to be a lawyer when I grow up’ was one thought that didn’t cross his mind, not even once. Which is saying something, because little Sam had a lot of thoughts. He had opinions about everything, even things he didn’t understand (especially those) and he had ideas, big ideas that everyone said were going to change the world one day, and he had an imagination the size of the Chrysler building and not enough room in his head for all the stories he wanted to tell. Everyone liked Sam. He was easy to like. At least, until he got a little older and suddenly his imagination was distracting instead of endearing and his ideas were silly instead of helpful and the big books he liked to read were taking time away from more important things. It didn’t make sense to him, because he had always thought they were the most important things in the world, but one day when one too many teachers had commented on it and one too many other children had teased him for it, he sat himself down at his desk and told himself he wouldn’t be like that anymore. Sam decided he wouldn’t be the dreamy one with his head in the clouds anymore. He would be focused, and dedicated, the model student and son.

So somewhere in middle school, Sam Seaborn changed from the cheerful, somewhat dazed and forgetful child he had been into the most intensely focused little academic his teachers had ever seen. Focusing was usually...hard, for Sam. At least, focusing on the right thing. His mind wanted to go in so many different directions and think about so many different things, and none of them were what he should have been focusing on. But he found that if he worked really hard and forced himself to think about one specific thing, then he could usually achieve it. Homework and such wasn’t exactly what he was passionate about, but it was what his parents wanted, and what everyone else around him seemed to want, so he did his best.

He worked hard through high school and when he graduated, he got accepted to Princeton. Sam loved Princeton. He loved everything about it. He started working hard because he liked it, and not because he thought other people wanted him to. He worked towards his law degree, and he got it.

(He never did stop writing, though. It was like a disease. No matter where he was or what he should have been doing, he could never make himself not write.)

There was a bit of a gray area after that, and more than one bad decision, but then he got the job at Gage-Whitney. And Gage-Whitney was...well. He was good at it. It paid well. He kept working his way up the ladder until he made partner, and wasn’t that everyone’s dream? Shouldn’t he love his job? Maybe he should have. He didn’t.

Then there was Lisa, and he couldn’t decide if she had been a mistake or not. He had liked her an awful lot; even loved her. She had been quite fond of him too. It had been real. Once. He remembered nice dinners and radiant smiles and the joy of having a partner who was as smart as you.

God, what happened to us? He’d think sometimes, but it was stupid, because he knew exactly what had happened to them. Sam had quit his job and gone running off to New Hampshire with Joshua Lyman. He’d tried to build a presidential campaign from scratch, then actually managed to accomplish it, which was somehow even worse for their relationship because then he was zipping all over the country without a minute to spare and he told himself he called whenever he could but it wasn’t enough and he knew it. Whenever they did get to see each other, there was a...distance, that there never had been before. Eventually Lisa would say something passive aggressive about how apparently Josh Lyman meant more to him than she did, and Sam would get defensive and mutter something about how he never complained when she always went off to fancy bars with her fancy friends every other night, and she would bark out an incredulous laugh because of course he would find a way to insult her friends when he was the one who had left her in the dust, because wasn’t that just the kind of person he was!

It hurt even more because they cared, they both cared. A lot. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because Sam chose the campaign and she chose to stay and there was nothing they could say to change each other’s minds. Her eyes had gotten big and wet and angry, and he had been numb, staring out at nothing. That was the night she gave him back the ring.

But he tried not to think about it too much now. It was a sure-fire way to ruin his day. Or week, more likely.

“Did you know that supposedly the shortest telegram correspondence in history was between Victor Hugo and his literary agent?” he asked. He was sitting at one of the desks in the bullpen, hunched over some files that he really didn’t want to read. It was one of those days, where there was a lot to do but a lot of time to do it, so you ended up doing anything but what you were supposed to do. One of those days that felt lazy and slow when it shouldn’t have been.

Josh was leaning against an office door frame across from him. “Really.”

“Yeah.” he flipped through some of the papers absently. “To ask how the book sales were doing he just sent a question mark. The guy sent back an exclamation point. And all I’m saying is if Victor Hugo himself could restrain his verbosity like that, then just maybe the guys writing these files could-” he paused as Josh wandered over, resting his forehead against the back of Sam’s head and wrapping an arm around him from behind. “What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Josh chuckled. “You’re just a huge dork.”

“Oh.” He rolled his eyes. “Just part of my charm, I guess.”

“In that case, you are extremely charming.”

“Ha ha.” Sam looked over as Josh slid into the desk chair next to him. “Hey, did CJ say how the briefing went? I was on the Hill all morning.”

Josh shrugged. “It was fine. They were all just asking about whether Jancowitz was going to sink the healthcare bill with his insistence on antagonizing what’s-his-name at the DOD.”

“Ah. Should we send someone to smooth that over?”

“Yeah, you can put Ainsley on it. I’m not too worried.” A problem for another day, then. Josh leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk in front of him. “It’s supposed to keep snowing all night.”

“They said that the last two times it snowed.”

“I think they’re right this time!” Josh protested, tapping the side of his head. “It’s my flawless intuition as an outdoorsman.”

Sam laughed. “At this rate, we could put you on the Weather Channel. You’d be just as accurate as all of those guys.”

“Mmm. With their track record, I could be their boss by next Tuesday.” He squinted at something for a minute before hopping up. “Well, I should probably go work on my thing before Leo has an aneurysm. I’ll come see you later about the environment?”

“Yeah, see you.” He sighed, staring down at the papers while Josh went back to his office. After a minute, he just shook his head and stood up, gathering them in his hands and retreating into his own office. Sam unceremoniously dumped the files onto a shelf, settling into his desk chair. They could be read another day.

Straightening his glasses, he popped open his laptop on the desk in front of him. He tried typing out some remarks for the President’s conference next week, but didn’t get very far. He wandered over to his email, and replied to a few people who had asked him questions.

I should write my dad, he thought absently. It had been a while since his last email. The thing was, thinking about his father in any capacity was Sure-fire Way To Ruin His Week Number Two.

It was...complicated. Sam had never had the best relationship with either of his parents to begin with. They had always been busy, and now he was always busy, and he supposed that it was possible he had lost far too many important things in his life due to people being busy. It didn’t even sound like a good excuse.

His mother was a brilliant, industrious woman who had grown up poor and worked so hard to get their little family off the ground that there was little else left of her now. At least, that was how he’d always felt. She’d always been so caught up in working to secure his future, and seemed to not have time for him in the meantime. Oh, she had tried, but she was always on a phone call or an extra shift and so it had usually just been him and his dad at the house when he was little.

It made his blood boil to think about it too long. Sam had never been close with his mother, but she had worked so hard and given up so much to keep them afloat. And this was how his father had repaid her? By...by...he couldn’t even put it into words. Learning about his father’s mistress had shook him to his core, and hadn’t stopped shaking it since.

Family had never been a very comforting concept to Sam, and after that particular revelation, even the romanticized ideal of it had come crumbling down around him. Family wasn’t supposed to be built on lies and absence and forced smiles. It was supposed to be solid and warm and loving, not shaky and volatile and brimming with hurt.

He could feel his heart clenching with anger and bitterness and grief over what-could-have-beens, and Sam hated being that person. Instead, he stared at the blank white void of the email draft in front of him, forcing himself to breathe deep. What are the others doing right now? he asked himself, his mind latching onto a distraction. Josh was probably working himself up over the environment issue- that, or getting lovingly screamed at by Leo. CJ had just finished a briefing, and was probably high-fiving Carol or bickering with Danny. Toby was most likely scribbling notes for the energy conference, half of which would be crumpled up in the wastebasket by now. Or on fire. Sam smiled to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hey,” came a cheery voice, and Sam looked up to find Donna in the doorway with a file tucked under her arm. “Any important government business going on in here?”

“Absolutely not,” he assured her, leaning back in his chair. “You need me for something?”

“Nothing pressing,” she replied with a shrug, brushing forward and hopping on top of his desk like she always did. “Toby and Josh are in CJ’s office watching the game if you want to join. ”

“Don’t they have work to do?” he mumbled petulantly.

“I really wouldn’t know,” Donna said with exaggerated innocence. She smirked at him. “But you look so sad and lonely in here, the least I could do was extend the invitation.”

“Hush, you,” Sam lamented, stretching absently. He looked down at his laptop and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I really should be working.”

“So should everyone else,” Donna pointed out. She slid off the desk and crossed her arms, giving him a look. “Sam? Hey, are you feeling okay? You look a little…”

Sam frowned, looking down at himself. “Disheveled?” he suggested, noting his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “That’s the word I was looking for. But, hey, are you really alright?” She leaned down to rub his shoulder. “You seem gloomy.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sighing. “Just a long day, I guess.”

Donna raised her eyebrows. “And do you know what the perfect antidote for a long day is?”

“Watching the game with Josh and Toby and CJ?” he guessed.

“Exactly!” Donna smiled, bonking him on the head with her file. “See you in five?”

Sam looked back at his email, thinking. If he mustered up the sheer willpower to write to his dad, he would have no idea what to say. And it wasn’t like his relatives in California were truly family, anyway. Not if all he associated with them were pain and disappointment. Maybe he could leave this email for later. Maybe he could watch football with his friends and chuckle at Toby and Josh shouting at the TV and rib CJ when she didn’t understand anything that was happening and forget about all of it, for a little while.

“Yeah,” Sam said, closing the lid to his computer. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

#tww #the west wing #west wing #sam seaborn #josh lyman #donna moss #tww fic #first time writing for tww so be nice pls #featuring: literally no plot #also featuring: me straight up making up things that sound government-y and official #also featuring: lots of platonic friendship moments #when you watched a scene in the show and thought #this would have been a perfect place for them to hug and/or touch foreheads etc etc #BUT THEY DONT!!! it’s maddening #so i write them myself<3 #anyway enjoy ~2k of extremely self indulgent sam character meta

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itsoneofthemuses · 3 years

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There is a lovely chenford discord and it has a NSFW channel. Now, what happens in the nsfw chat stays in the nsfw chat, but I needed a distraction so I posed a whole bunch of questions and people were kind enough to offer up their head canons. Please feel free to do the same - comment, reblog, submit questions as asks 🤣

Please note: these are all about sex/intimacy.

1) Lucy - bra advocate or freedom fighter?

2) What's the context for their first time? Seriously. Does Lucy wait three dates? Are they angry? Is it super romantic? Do they wait on the kinky stuff until later?

3) Who is most likely to accidentally walk in on them? Tamara? Jackson? Angela? Wesley?

4) Period sex? Yay or nay?

5) If they're "taking care" of themselves (they were both single, although Tim only technically, for a while) what do they use? And yes, I'm asking about their porn/personal toy preferences.

6) Their favourite times - morning sex? Afternoon delight? Under the cover of night? In that one hour they get together when she's on nights and he's on days?

7) By the way, their personal feelings on sleep sex? Obvs assuming they've discussed it beforehand?

8) Who's the initiator? Do they have basically similar sex drives?

9) Who is the one more likely to talk about sex in general? With each other? With friends? With their kids?

10) What's one sure sign or thing they do to let the other know they're down? Like, I imagine Lucy showers, shaves, and leaves her intended underwear out on the bed

11) Preferred PJ's. Don't cop out (ha!) and saying they go to bed nude.

12) What's the frequency? I guess this goes back to sex drive. But they're busy, high stress professionals. Do they have down periods?

13) How many of their kids are accidents because Tim has super sperm according to fanon? (or just how many kids?)

14) Who do they (individually or together) walk in on? Also, who cockblocks who in this group?

15) How do they feel about PDA? At the station, it's obviously a no-no but otherwise?

16) What's the turn on for each of them? Like, if Lucy wears green? Tim wears Hugo Boss cologne?

17) What makes them feel sexy? Is Tim really feeling himself right after a workout? Does Lucy have a 'felt cute might delete later' after she gets waxed?

18) Going back to consent... Drunk sex? Is weed legal in California?

19) What could they watch the other do all day? Now or in future? (do we leave Dadford out of it because it's too obvious?)

20) Love languages... How do they like to receive/give love typically?

21) What's a shared activity that gets them mutually going? Is cooking super sensual for them? I don't know.

22) How much does this group know about each other's sex lives? Whether they talk about it or whether they just glean info from knowing each other.

23) Do they have any fantasies they'd never act on? (like gangbang or something because they don't share)

24) What's an intimate, but not necessarily sexual, activity they do or enjoy together?

25) Who is on their celebrity hook up list?Their free pass. You know Tim argues she already used hers on Nolan.

26) Speaking of comfort, what's like... A comfort sex thing? Or not even sex. Just a physical comfort thing they do for/to each other?

27) Let's get the basics out of the way - boxers or briefs? Underwire or sports bra? Sleeping touching but apart or all over each other?

28) Tell me about their sex noises. No, but for real. Is it just panting? Talking? Lucy seems like a talker. Do they laugh when it's not super rough? Are there a lot of body noises? Is one of them super sweaty? Let's get real detailed here.

#chenford #tim x lucy #the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #lucy x tim #therookiemidseasonmadness #the rookie discussion #the rookie headcanons

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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years

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“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 6

Summary: Erik hangs out with Tony...

NSFW. Mature Audience. Smut.

youtube

"Why are you selling dreams of who you wish you could be A prince in all of the magazines They'd have no words for the man I've seen Talk real fast 'fore they see your face

And would they love you if they knew all the things we know We've got these images We need them to be true Not ready to believe we're no more insecure than you…"

Res – "Golden Boys"

Erik wore his expensive suit again when he sat in the foyer of Stark's office. Tony's secretary Devika eyed him from time to time. She offered him water and juice to drink but he sat on the foyer couch rigid, muscles ready to spring and take him far away from Stark Industries and Los Angeles. His suitcase and duffle bag sat right next to his left leg.

"The restroom is over there if you need to use it," Devika said. She let her chin rest on her hand, her dark dewy skin looked radiant. Working for Tony must've been great for her.

"I'm good."

His voice came out gruff. Devika's eyes went back to her computer.

"I'm cool, just chillin," he said in a softer tone.

Devika's dark brown eyes watched him. She glanced down at his bags.

The door of Tony's office swung open and four of the intern project managers walked out. Erik's project manager, Yuri Deetz, stepped out last. When he caught Erik's eye, he gave a weak smile to him as Tony swept into the foyer.

"Erik Stevens is here," Devika said.

Tony glanced at his watch and then his eyes planted themselves on Erik's face. He walked over to Erik and stood in front of him, folding his arms across his chest. Erik kept his own stare steady. Face hard. He wasn't backing down over no bullshit white boy.

Tony looked as if he was going to spill a lecture, but then he glanced at his watch again.

"Come with me," he said.

Erik stood and followed Tony to a private elevator. On the ride down, Tony stayed quiet and Erik just stood in silence too. The ride down to a mid-level floor had Erik keeping a swift pace with Tony's stride. Passing through several security checkpoints, they arrived inside a cutting-edge computer lab. Erik's eyes marveled at the hardware and Stark employees programming with software that was never going to fall into the hands of the general public. Not even the military.

"Hi, Janine, this is Erik Stevens, one of the new interns…"

Tony stood next to a red-faced programmer with piercing gray eyes who leaned against a specialized programmer's desk and stared at Erik.

"Stevens…you programmed some Sandex code to be a placeholder for Yang's new software," she said.

"Yeah," Erik said. Janine's eyes stared him down and their intensity made him nervous. He glanced at her expansive four-dimensional screen.

"How's that working out for you?" he asked, recognizing the AmDX7 computer language that was all the rage in certain programming circles.

Janine glanced over at her screen. A simulated biometric passport glowed before them and she enlarged it.

"Trying to figure out a way to keep data secure from RFID tech is proving to be quite a task. We want to be the first on the market with full-proof E-Passports, but the problem is—"

"Many national identity cards aren't ICAO9358 compliant, and a lot of countries don't want a universal chip," Erik said.

Janine smiled. She looked over at Tony.

"Can I keep him?" she asked.

"I'll pick him up at dinner time," Tony said.

"Pull up a seat," Janine said.

She didn't have to tell Erik twice.

###

Rubbing his eyes, Erik leaned back in the computer chair and took a moment to rest his brain. Ten hours straight he had been at Janine's desk coding for her, skipping lunch and dinner in the cafeteria. The regular staff was already gone for the dinner break, and Erik was left to be supervised by Janine's assistant Manuj and four other programmers. Janine's crew oversaw all of Stark Industries' facial, fingerprint, and iris recognition technology.

This is where Erik wanted to be. Stark was so far ahead in the future with biometrics that Erik felt confident that everything he learned in this department would secure his future. Technology changed at an extreme pace, but to be with a company that shaped future tech would bode well for him at this time. Learning the pitfalls of cybersecurity would help him devise ways to hack it when he needed to. A day would come when he would have to go into Africa…East Africa in particular…Wakanda to be exact. He needed to find ways to circumvent some of the tech that his father showed him before he was murdered. And if Wakanda really was that far ahead of the world, the lab he sat in at that moment was the start of his preparation to defeat it.

"Janine said for you to go home and be back here tomorrow at seven. We've sent you some time-sensitive cheat codes to help get you to speed. Read them over tonight and be ready to rock and roll again in the morning. Good work, Stevens," Manuj said heading back to his desk on the other side of the room.

Erik stood up and put on his suit jacket. Ten hours and not one word from Tony—

"There he is."

Tony walked in wearing a totally different suit from the one he had on that morning. Formal. Black. With a bow tie.

"I was told to come back here in the morning," Erik said.

"Well, Janine must really like you. She doesn't like very many people. Good on you."

Erik just stared at Tony.

"I thought we were going to talk this morning—"

"You sat in that chair for over ten hours, without a break I was told and did what you love to do. You want to be here—"

"What about Wesley?"

"What about him? His dad is just a Congressman. Who fucking feels threatened by a Congressman? A Senator…maybe a little concern. Let's go. There's a party at my house tonight and we are going to be late if we don't get you dressed to impress."

"My stuff is still—"

"Your bags are back in your apartment. Maria made sure it went in your room. We have about thirty minutes to get you some new threads before we go to mi casa su casa."

Erik grinned.

"You really think I would cut you loose just because you punched a drunk asshole? You know how many times I have punched people…or been the asshole? I brought you to Janine so you would know what you are here for. She's your new project manager. And she wants to know who else on your old team you want to bring over with you. So, if you could pick only two people to ride with you—"

"Valentina and Maria."

"Nice. Let's go."

Tony's Lagonda Vision was waiting for him in the parking garage with his personal valet standing watch over the car. Tony opened up the moon roof and the Cali air blew in.

"Tonight, I think we'll put you in Hugo Boss," Tony said glancing at Erik.

They drove into Beverly Hills and Tony ushered Erik into a Boss shop where Tony paid for a brand new tuxedo, shirt and bow tie for him. The shop owner threw in some free boxer briefs and dress socks to be nice. The tuxedo didn't even have a price tag on it. None of the suits did.

"I've been in an office all day. I need to clean up," Erik said.

"I already have toiletries at the house. Never opened. I've got you covered. And if we hurry, you will have time to shower and shave."

The PCH was packed and by the time they reached Tony's Malibu "house", hired valets and caterers were already looking after people in the ultra-luxury mansion overlooking a high sea bluff. They slipped into the mansion through a back entrance and Tony took Erik up to a private guest suite where he could shower and change.

Pepper was already hounding Tony when he arrived complaining that she had to entertain too many people without him being there as the real host.

Tony had everything he needed for Erik to get ready, and within twenty minutes, Erik was showered, suited and booted. He had trouble with the bowtie. He stuffed it in his pocket and made his way down several stairs looking for the party spot. Over one hundred people were already in the home and Erik found Tony standing next to a group of attractive white women who hung onto his every word.

"Kid, ya gotta wear the tie to complete the look, excuse me, ladies…"

Tony ushered Erik to the side and helped him tie the bow correctly. "I thought I looked suave without the tie," Erik said.

"No…no you didn't."

Tony stood back and admired his handiwork.

"You look good, kiddo."

Erik nodded.

"Stick next to me a learn something," Tony said moving back into the crowd.

The man was smooth. Memory impeccable. He knew names and nicknames and greeted each person with enthusiasm. When there was a break in the mingling and Tony sipped a bit of white wine, Erik could finally talk to him.

"What is this party for?"

"Some investors in the lower-tiered companies I own. I throw them a shindig every now and then to make them feel special. Let them know that no matter how global I am, I always remember the little guy. It's once a year and it makes me look peachy."

"Gotcha."

"I will allow you a glass of wine here…hey…one glass of wine," Tony said as Erik put one of the wine glasses back on a server's tray as they swept past him.

Two chic blondes walked over to Tony, red wine in their hands as they fawned over him.

"My, my, my," Tony whispered as his eyes took in the décolletage on their dresses that highlighted their fake breasts. The only things that weren't plastic on them were the leather heels on their feet.

"This is my assistant, Erik Stevens," Tony said. Erik went along with the ruse and watched Tony maneuver his way to the other side of the room without the women realizing he was dumping them.

"Does this ever get old?" Erik asked.

"Here in Malibu, yes. I'll take you to my European digs and you can see how the Euro Trash party crowd changes everything," Tony said winking.

"I'll hold you to that," Erik said.

Later in the evening, Tony gave a speech to the crowd touting the growth of the companies he owned and highlighted the party-goers fatter bank statements due to Tony's leadership and smart business acumen. Two hours in, Erik became bored. And tired.

Tony worked the room and his rock star status among his guests was apparent. He was truly the King of razzle-dazzle and Erik watched Pepper keep him in check as she also worked the room, helping to move Tony when he was tired of talking to certain people. Pepper must've been working for Tony for a while because on instinct almost, she knew when to interrupt and pull Tony away with her to meet other guests. As much as Pepper came off as nit-picky with Tony, Erik got the sense that she loved her job with him. Tony allowed her a lot of leeway to butt in when she felt the conversations were veering into territory that Tony didn't need to speak on. She was also good at cockblocking certain women who didn't seem to fit Tony's type.

That's where it got interesting.

Tony's only type was beautiful and female. He was a breast man and a leg man from what Erik could see from the women he took an interest in. One tall sleek white brunette eased into his orbit, and within an hour, Tony was walking around with an arm around her waist. She was now the chosen one.

At one point, Erik had walked around a staircase where Tony was speaking to the head of a law firm, and Tony had his hand up the back of the brunette's dress digging all in her ass. The woman was standing there as if nothing was happening while Tony fingered her. When the lawyer walked away and they thought they were well hidden from view, Tony lifted the back of her dress higher and openly fingered her shaved pussy. She had no panties on at all.

Tony whispered in her ear and the woman's eyes shut tight. Her moan was loud.

"Talk that talk, T," Erik said under his breath as he sipped on a glass of Chablis. Tony's fingers were glossy and he must've been digging deep in the right spot because the brunette whimpered and held onto his left arm that cradled her waist while his right hand went to work. After a few minutes, Tony positioned himself behind the woman, unzipped his pants, rooted inside the fly of his underwear, and inserted his lengthy erection between her folds.

"Damn, no condom…bruh," Erik thought to himself watching the action.

Tony's strokes were hard as he palmed the woman's pale breasts that spilled out of her dress. Slamming into her, he kept talking, his voice urgent.

"Take it…take it…like a good little slut," Tony grunted, his eyes pressed shut and his face tight with lust. He was getting close. Looked like it was going to be a fat nut too. He pulled out abruptly and the brunette fell to her knees facing him, her hungry mouth wide open.

Time to go.

Erik turned and walked in the opposite direction feeling himself wanting to find a babe to finger fuck and clap cheeks. But there was no one there worth his time or energy and he had no condoms. The reality was, the women who were young enough for him to step to had their eyes on Tony. A billionaire genius was better than a broke genius.

He pulled out his cell and contemplated calling Giselle. The memory of her hand on his dick had him wanting a part two encounter. Tony was out here getting his rocks off. Erik wanted to do the same.

"Erik."

Tony's secretary Devika walked over to him. She wore a copper-colored body con dress and her thick black wavy hair was tucked in a chignon.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"It's interesting," Erik said.

"Very diplomatic answer," she said, giggling.

"How often does he party at his house like this?"

"Four or five times a year. I think you might be the first intern to ever come here."

Erik's eyes swept over the entire first floor.

"He lives in this big ass mansion by himself?"

"Yes."

"Rich people."

"This could be you one day."

"My spot will be bigger than this. A palatial estate."

"Listen to you," she said slapping his arm.

She dug into her small purse and pulled out a cell.

"You'll be back tomorrow, hopefully?" she said.

"I'll be there."

"Good. I heard nothing but good things about you."

"From who?"

"Mr. Stark."

Pepper walked over to them, her eyes looking around the room as she approached.

"Have you two seen Tony?" Pepper asked.

Erik's eyes swept over to the last place he saw him and there was no sign of Tony or his dime piece.

"He was talking to that lawyer from Fielding and Houstons," Erik said.

"If you see him, tell him that Mona Richards wants to speak to him and it is very important," Pepper said.

She walked away from them on the hunt for Tony.

Devika's eyes scanned the room.

"He was with a brunette," Erik said, making sure Pepper was far away.

"Ah, let me guess, the one with the…"

Devika held her hands out in front of her chest.

"You be knowing," Erik said.

"I'm going to call it a night. If Pepper is hunting him down, it can't be a good sign."

"Where do you live?"

"North Hollywood."

"Can I get a ride with you to the Oakwood?"

"Party over for you so soon?"

"I'm beat. Gotta get up early."

"Was Mr. Stark your ride?"

"Yeah."

"I'll give you a ride."

"Cool, let me get my stuff," Erik said.

He stood for a moment trying to remember which direction he came down to the first floor.

"Come on, I'll show you where your stuff is. You were in the guest room on the third floor."

"Thanks."

Erik followed Devika to the East side of the mansion and they walked up some stairs.

"There it is," Erik said walking into the room and grabbing his original suit that he placed inside the Hugo Boss bag he kept.

"You know where I can get my hair lined up?" he asked her.

"I look Black so you assume I know where to get hair done?" she said.

Erik stared at her face.

"My bad. I thought…the name Devika…it sounded…"

"It's Sanskrit and means 'little Goddess'. My parents are Indian—"

"I didn't—"

"—and Black. My brother gets his hair cut on Crenshaw, right across from the mall."

Erik smiled. "Los Angeles is a melting pot," she said.

"A segregated one."

"I hear you."

"I'm ready. Let's dip."

"I just texted Mr. Stark to let him know you are leaving. Just in case he wants to keep you longer," she said.

When they made it back down the stairs, Tony was waiting for them. Erik noticed his tie was fixed back up in haste. His hair was not as perfect either.

"Pepper said there's a Mona looking for you," Erik said.

"Here? Now?" Tony said looking around like a sniper was gunning for him.

"Yeah."

"Shit. Follow me," Tony said.

Erik and Devika followed him out onto his ocean view balcony that circled the entire mansion. Tony's eyes darted around as he slipped past guests out on the balcony and entered his private den.

"You owe her some money or something?" Erik asked, intrigued by how secretive Tony was acting like they were in a spy movie.

"No, she's just a friend with benefits whose benefits I no longer want."

Devika rolled her eyes at Erik.

"Hopefully she didn't see you with that brunette," Erik teased.

Tony's eyes narrowed. Erik threw up his hands.

"Hey, you were getting it in. I just happened to be there when it went down."

"Really? In front of Devika?" Tony said.

"I'll just be leaving Mr. Stark. Erik asked for a ride—"

"Yeah, I saw your text. Thanks for taking him. Put it on your T & E report for mileage. I'm going to hang out here," he said. He swiped his hand over his desk and security cams popped up on a floating screen.

"There she is. Damn it. I thought I had her taken off the invite list," Tony huffed, his hands on his hips looking distraught, "…oh shit."

"What is it, Mr. Stark?" Devika said.

"Pepper found her…and…oh no…"

Erik and Devika stepped around Tony's desk to look closer at his security feed.

"Let's go, let's go!" Tony said shoving Erik and Devika toward the door.

They exited the den and headed toward Tony's private exit where he and Erik had first entered the mansion. They were practically running down a hall and jumping into an elevator.

"Why are we running?" Erik asked.

"Pepper is bringing Mona to me," he said. Tony glanced at his watch and the security feed popped up there.

They scurried into an underground garage. Tony made them jump into a silver Lamborghini.

"Where are you parked Devika?" Tony asked.

"Second level."

Tony sped them over to a little red BMW.

"See you in the morning," Tony said.

"Where are you going?" Erik asked.

"I have a penthouse downtown. I'm staying there tonight."

"You're leaving your own party?" Erik asked.

"Pepper will shut it down," Tony said.

"Goodnight Mr. Stark," Devika said.

"Night Devika. Good job today, Stevens."

Tony took off like the wind.

"Get in," Devika said.

###

Part 7

Tag List:

@fd-writes @soufcakmistress @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514 @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling @chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry @honeytoffee

#Stark's New Intern #killmonger #erik stevens #tony stark #black panther fanfiction #n'jadaka

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tolstoys-nemesis · 4 years

Text

Funsize list of literary classics :)

Hey so this is just going to be a very brief list of classics I've read and really enjoyed. Please do bear in mind that I've only read a handful of all the books out there so don't get upset if you don't find your favourite classic or whatever, this is intended to be a very short rec list for people who don't really like classics/want to get into classic literature but don't know where to start. This is probably going to be very basic, but uh, sue me!

1. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen Premise: The novel follows Elizabeth Bennet, a young woman, second-born of a family of five daughters. Her older sister, Jane, meets a man named Mr Bingley and the two of them fall in love. Bingley has a friend, Mr Darcy, who is remarkably haughty and inconsiderate. One day Bingley leaves town for no apparent reason. Cool stuff: Austen is peak feminist literature. Lots of female characters, amazing friendships, huge diversity in their personalities. Very nice and cosy, the book does have a plot and some conflict, but the stakes are quite low which allows for a peaceful read. Not-so-cool stuff: Ok so this might just be me, but I read the book and listened to the audiobook at the same time, and I found that a lot of the spelling was archaic, causing me to be quite reliant on the audio to fully grasp what was being said. But don't get me wrong, P&P is easier to understand than #3 on the list.

2. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens Premise: We meet the main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, on Christmas Eve. He's a greedy man who thinks socialism is a plague and is generally terrible. Later that evening, the ghost of his long-dead business partner comes to him and tells him that he must get his act together, lest he should be condemned to eternal damnation. That night, he is visited by three spirits, the first one takes him back to his youth, the second one shows him the horrors that he is passively contributing to, and the third one shows him what will become of him if he doesn't change his ways. Cool stuff: A Christmas Carol is essentially baby Dickens. The tone is ludicrously light for Dickens, and the book is very short (my copy is like 130 pages), so you can absolutely sit down one afternoon in December and read it in one sitting!!). The story is super famous so you already know what you're getting into, so the prose won't get in the way of your understanding of the text. Speaking of which. . . Not-so-cool stuff: ACC may be Dickens' most accessible book, but the style is still very, well, Dickens.

3. Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens Premise: Oliver Twist is an orphan brought up in a workhouse in the first half of the 19th century (read, under inhumane conditions). One day, he is drafted by his friends to ask the quartermaster for more food. This goes over quite poorly indeed and Oliver is sent away to learn a trade away from the workhouse. Things go from bad to worse, and we follow Oliver on his journey from the English countryside to the slums of London to his long-lost family. Cool stuff: While Oliver Twist is a famous story, a lot of people don't know the specifics of the plot, and trust me, they're iconic. You catch feelings (both good and bad) for the characters, and honestly it's just so aesthetic I'm- Not-so-cool stuff: Right so there's the obvious factor of Dickens' notoriously pompous prose, but that's still very superficial. On a more serious note, anti-semitism. It's there. Dickens toned it down himself after it was pointed out to him, but it's still uncomfortable. There's also a lot of abuse, both physical and emotional, and uh,,, femicide happens, so if those are things which are sensitive issues for you, you might want to skip on that one? idk, I'm not the boss of you.

4. The World's Wife, Carol Ann Duffy Premise: Is it too early to regard Duffy as a Classic author? What's that I can't hear you over the sound of my love for her! Right so uh this is a collection of poems published in 1999, which focuses on the women behind great men (kinda? that's the most general summary I can give of it?) or bends great men's gender and gives their point of view on the events their Great Man are famous for. Cool stuff: Women loving woman writes about women. It's amazing. Not-so-cool stuff: it's very sexually explicit? yeah that's it.

5. The Last Day of a Condemned Man (Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné), Victor Hugo Premise: Ok so most of the book is actually in the preface, an essay attacking the death penalty. (there's also a play in there for some reason?? I don't think all editions have the play but mine did and it was very confusing? I think the play is a satire of the society Hugo lived in, but yeah, quite odd). The actual narrative is more of an emotional complement to the very rational preface than anything and omg it's brilliant. Anyhow, the story follows an unnamed man, sentenced to death for an unknown crime (note: this is a far more solid way to advocate against the death penalty than your average "sOmEtiMeS iNnOcEnT pEoPLe aRe WrOnGLy aCcUsEd aNd eXeCuTeD", because that doesn't actually address what's really wrong about the death penalty) from about 6 weeks before his set execution date to moments before he meets the guillotine. Cool stuff: ok so if you're into activism, this is really an amazing book. It's short, can easily be read in one afternoon. Not-so-cool stuff: it's a bummer. You don't want to read that if you're going through some shit, you will make your existential crisis worse.

6. Animal Farm, George Orwell Premise: Do you know about communism and the USSR? Congratulations, you know about Animal Farm! Soviet leaders are pigs, soldiers are dogs, all the other animals are regular citizens. Men are aristocrats. If you like thinly veiled metaphors for autocratic regimes, but 1984 was too icky for you, this is the one! Cool stuff: Short and sweet, can be read in one afternoon. Gets you thinking but doesn't entirely rob you of your will to live. Not-so-cool stuff: Allegories can get very annoying in very little time.

7. Froth on the Daydream/Mood Indigo (L'Ecume des Jours), Boris Vian Premise: It's surrealism time sillies! Right so the main character's name is Colin, he's wealthy, he has a poorer best friend, and he wants a girlfriend. He meets this girl, Chloe, they fall in love they get married and everything is great for about 47 seconds! During their honeymoon, Chloe falls ill, and she is eventually diagnosed with *checks notes* a water lily in the lung! Everything goes to shits in record time! Cool stuff: It's very aesthetically pleasing. There have been a bunch of film adaptations and I don't want to watch any of them because I don't want images that are any different from those I pictured while reading the book. Best enjoyed with some ominous music playing in the background. Quite short, can be read in one afternoon but not necessarily advised. Can absolutely be read over one week-end though! Not-so-cool stuff: Remember what I said about the aesthetic? A lot of people I know read the book and disliked it because of the aesthetic. You just have to figure out whether that's your jam or not. Oh And, I've never been high, but finishing this book made me feel things that I'd never experienced before, and idk whether that's a good or a bad thing.

#classic lit #classic literature #classic lit memes #jane austen #pride and prejudice #charles dickens #a christmas carol #oliver twist #victor hugo #the last day of a condemned man #carol ann duffy #the world's wife #george orwell #animal farm #boris vian #froth on the daydream #mood indigo #book recommendations

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barb-aricyawp · 5 years

Note

Can we get a 3, 6, and 10 for the Winter Soldier please? Gotta get that Soft Torture Crave™

Drag ‘em, rabid dogs, and care-taking for Bucky + forced to watch for Steve. I’m more than happy to! This can be read as a continuation of this, for the lovely @aylwyyn228.

trigger warnings: forced nudity, mutilation, blood, broken bones, needles, violence against animals (I made it brief; I don’t like it either)

Rollins drags Bucky into the cell adjacent to Steve’s. No, not Bucky. The Winter Soldier.

Like a magnet, Steve’s entire body is pulled towards his friend when he sees him. He throws himself against the reinforced glass that separates their cells.

“Bucky,” he says. His breath fogs a circle of steam over the glass.

The Soldier’s head snaps to Steve. Recognition flickers over his face. Perhaps this is Bucky after all.

Rollins has got Bucky by the hair, hauling him backwards. His prosthetic arm has been removed, and his hand is still healing from where Rumlow sheared his fingers off.

He grips his remaining fingers–thumb to middle–around Rollins’ wrist. He thrashes his body and kicks his legs, but Rollins is bigger. Concrete drags and scrapes the backs of his thighs, his bare buttocks.

“Why does he have to be naked for this?” Steve asks Rumlow when he enters his cell.

Rumlow shrugs. “Aesthetic?”

“Last I checked, the Nazi aesthetic is Hugo Boss.”

That gets a laugh out of Rumlow. He tosses a plastic case at Steve. “You’ll need this.”

Steve turns it over in his hands. It’s a medkit. Inside are suture needles, surgical thread, gauze, disinfectant. A needle with a syringe full of pale yellow liquid. What the…

Steve looks up to question it, but Rumlow has already left the room. Rollins, too, is nowhere to be seen and Bucky is a heap on the concrete floor, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks through the glass.

“Yeah.” Bucky leans up onto his elbow, then stands. He doesn’t face Steve, he faces the door. Bracing himself. “Look, just because I recognize you doesn’t mean I remember you.”

Steve’s heart clenches, a rubber band snapped tight around the organ.

“I’m Steve,” he sighs. “I’m your best friend.”

Bucky’s eyes slide over to him, calculating and cold. Steve has seen that look before, but only when Bucky is behind a sniper rifle.

“Then where the hell have you been?”

Steve doesn’t get a chance to answer. There’s a clamor down the hall. The sound of dogs barking. Bucky’s eyes return to the door, his jaw flexing tightly. Whatever’s coming for him, he’s frightened of it.

“If you really are my friend…” he says slowly. The cell door unlocks. Bucky squares up. “…Then I’m real sorry for what you’re about to see.”

Dogs. Rabid dogs.

Six or seven of them rush into the room. Jaws snapping, saliva foaming. Steve is startled by the sight of them. By so many of them charging straight for Bucky.

And Steve watches, open-mouthed and horrified, as the hounds descend.

Bucky grabs the first one by the throat and tosses it against the concrete wall. But while he flings the first dog away, the second clamps its jaws around Bucky’s knee. It thrashes its head back and forth. Something snaps in Bucky’s leg.

Bucky cries out in pain and kicks it off. His knee buckles, ringed with a deep red crescent of bites.

That’s all he can manage to fight off. Another dog leaps and catches him in the face. Bucky is knocked to the floor, howling and struggling to get the beast off him. The remaining three dogs each grab a limb, tugging and fighting for a piece of him.

Flesh tears open. His hamstrings rip. Steve catches a flash of startling white bone.

He can’t watch. He has to do something. Steve picks up the metal cot in his room and hurls it against the glass. It cracks, but not enough to burst through. So Steve rams it again and again until he can throw his body through and shatter the glass.

The moment he crashes through into the cell, all dogs turn their attention to Steve. He likes dogs, loves them even, and snapping their necks feels like sacrilege.

At least it’s fast. At least they won’t feel pain.

The remaining dog has Bucky by the ankle, and drags him away from Steve when he approaches. It snarls around the joint, whips its head back and forth once, to establish that this meat is his.

Steve snaps its neck too.

The guilt is worth it to save Bucky.

—

The Soldier doesn’t often black out from pain, but this time he does. When he comes to, the man, Steve, is squeezing the bubbles from a syringe.

His hands are shaking. Tears streak down face, forming clean tracks through the splatter of blood. He’s pulled the Soldier’s head and shoulders into his lap, his body a protective hunch over the Soldier’s.

Maybe this man really is his friend. That would be…nice. The Soldier doesn’t have any friends.

“Have you ever treated rabies before?” he gurgles. That one dog, the big black one, it got him in the face. Ripped open a hole in his cheek. The Soldier can press the tip of his tongue straight through.

Steve shakes his head. He rubs his cheek against his shoulder. Still crying.

“That’s rabies immune globulin,” he explains. “Administer a bit at a time, as close to the bites as possible.”

The Soldier glances down his ravaged body. There’s a bite on his knee, at each ankle, on his forearm, his face. He only hopes there is enough.

“Start with the knee. Then my face. Don’t be afraid to get the needle in deep.” He swallows. “There’s no cure once the infection settles in.”

Steve nods. He does as he’s told, hands shaking.

“The other vials in the medkit, those are for later. You’ll need to give me one tomorrow…if they let you stay in here.”

A prediction flashes over the Soldier’s synapses. A bad omen. Maybe they want him to get rabies. Maybe they want him to kill Steve, rabid and out of his mind. For some reason, he can’t bear the thought.

Steve rests a hand over the Soldier’s shoulder, squeezes it comfortingly. He dabs disinfectant over the wounds and though the chemical stings, the Soldier is grateful. So grateful that tears prick his eyes.

He allows himself to sag into Steve’s lap. He allows Steve to wrap his wounds with gauze and stroke the blood-damp hair from his brow. The Soldier closes his eyes. Though his whole body burns and throbs, this is the best he can remember feeling.

Ever.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Steve says, using that strange name again. “I’ll take care of you, now.”

#torture tuesday #hydra trash party #whump bucky barnes #whump steve rogers #rabid dogs #forced to watch #violence against animals #animal violence #the dog dies #I'm so sorry I wrote myself into a corner and had to do it #thank you so much anons #I hope finals went well!#Anonymous #stucky

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1dreality · 5 years

Link

LIAM PAYNE has enjoyed "mind-blowing" romps with supermodel Naomi Campbell.

The pair, with a 23-year age gap, have been dating secretly for two months.

One Direction star Liam, 25, ex of Cheryl Tweedy, has seen Naomi, 48, in London and New York.

A source said: "He can't believe his luck."

But pals of Liam say he could be “eaten alive” by Naomi — who they fear will see him as a plaything.

The singer is said to be “head over heels” for the British supermodel.

He has raved to friends about amazing “liaisons” in New York and London during the secret two-month fling.

Naomi, 48, has introduced him to fashion giants such as Hugo Boss as he aims to boost his modelling career.

But a source warned: “People are worried Liam may have had his head turned — and end up heartbroken.

“From Naomi’s point of view, being with Liam helps keep her relevant and in the news.

“She could be seeing him as a plaything before moving on.

“She has a reputation for being tough and getting what she wants.”

Another source revealed: “Liam has been seeing Naomi for a while.

“He’s mad keen on her. He seems head over heels.

“They are definitely an item and have been seeing a lot of each other.

“Liam thinks she’s amazing and beautiful, and has said their intimate time together has been mind-blowing. He seems really into her and acting like he can’t believe his luck.

“I had seen some internet rumours but I was astounded when I found out it was a proper relationship.

“He obviously likes a beautiful older woman.”

The pair were spotted together at a Davido Adeleke concert last Monday.

A gig goer snapped Liam walking behind Naomi, wearing round shades, as they left London’s O2 Arena.

They are now said to be on the verge of going public with the relationship.

Romance rumours first swirled at the New Year when Liam and Naomi partied until dawn at a beach bash in Ghana.

A few days later they were pictured dining together in the African nation.

At the time an insider said: “Liam and Naomi’s closeness raised eyebrows.

“They are such an unlikely pair but there is a real attraction between them.”

Two weeks ago they flirted openly over Instagram.

Naomi complimented Liam, writing under a shirtless snap of him: “Beautiful soul.”

Liam replied: “Takes one to know one”, adding a kiss emoji.

Londoner Naomi then posted a photo of her own and Strip That Down singer Liam commented: “Perfection in a person . . . don’t give me those eyes.”

Speculation mounted about a romance, with fans dubbing the couple “Laomi”.

But our insider revealed: “Liam and Naomi were already together by the time they were sending those lovey-dovey Instagram messages.

“That wasn’t him trying to woo her. That was him telling his girlfriend how he felt about her. He is seriously into her and it is not hard to see why.

“She is absolutely stunning in the flesh and — to Liam who is kind of still making his way in showbiz — she would seem to be very experienced with loads of contacts.

“She’s got a massive apartment in New York, and I think Liam has been there.

"I have also heard that she has introduced him to lots of people and helped him to get his foot in the door with Hugo Boss.

“He hopes to appear in one of their adverts.”

Liam had admitted feeling “fragile” after his split last year from The Greatest Dancer judge Cheryl Tweedy, 35, mum to their 22-month-old son Bear.

Wolverhampton-born Liam has forged a solo career since the One Direction split and is worth more than £42million — putting him in good company with Naomi’s mega-rich exes.

They include movie legend Robert de Niro, 75, and F1 tycoon Flavio Briatore, 67.

Liam was said to have enjoyed a brief romance with US model Cairo Dwek, 21, following his split from Cheryl.

He was holidaying with pals in the French Riviera when he and Cairo got close in a nightclub. They were later spotted together in Italy.

Last August The Sun on Sunday told how Liam had got cosy with Instagram sensation Maya Henry, 18.

Those flings came after Girls Aloud star Cheryl announced their split online last July, saying: “We are sad to announce that we are going our separate ways.

"We still have so much love for each other as a family.” Liam later revealed in an interview the separation had been “doubly difficult”.

He explained: “Obviously we’ve broken up . . . then it was a couple of days, or weeks, before we put out the announcement.

“And that’s the bit when it really hits home.

#liam payne #liam & naomi #liam & cheryl #liam's solo project #liam & fashion #liam's promo #tabloids being tabloids #well damn!!!!!!!!! So it's like that... Liam actually has some sort of game... SHOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#THIS IS GOING TO BE INTERESTING... PLEASE LAST UNTIL THE MET GALA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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the-man-who-would-be-king · 5 years

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i was tagged in this something by @aquarelleskies thanks stranger Favorite song to sing/hum?

Ohhh anything it changes day to day.. i sing so poorly and loudly it must hurt to know me.. but lately it’s Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye by Leonard Cohen

Favorite flower/tree/plant?

I’m bad with names.. and i’m not judgmental, most are nice so long as they stand out just a little

Favorite colors?

Dark red and Claret i guess

What do you always doodle?

A fish, cos of narcissism i suppose

How do you take your coffee/tea?

I don’t. If i’m spending money on a drink it’d better get me drunk

Favorite candle scent?

I don’t know.. i like the natural smell of smoke enough, right after you blow it out

Sunrise or sunset?

Sunset cos i’m too lazy to wake for the dawn

What perfume do you wear?

I don’t have a fav go to brand.. I have a few nice bottles of things given as xmas/birthday gifts over the years.. i think i have a hugo boss one but did you know they dressed the nazis so i’m not inclined to use it

Favorite quote?

Lately i like this one Carl Barat said in some old interview, idk if it’s his originally, “Nostalgia is a thing of the past.” ahaha

Favorite self care routine(s)?

Large spates of unemployment, then a brief job that i quit once i have enough money to travel

Fuzzy socks or house slippers?

Slippers cos they’re easy, you know you can just ‘slip’ them on.. god i’m sorry i hate myself for all these answers

What color are your eyes?

basic bitch brown

What’s your favorite eye color on others?

Oh there are these lovely pair of blue eyes i know on a girl, they do suit her so well

Favorite season? Why?

I like them all for different reasons, but maybe the end of summer/autumn stage is the nicest.. all the colours at no great cost of the warmth..

Cheek, neck, or nose kisses?

Neck when it’s heated, cheek when it’s soft.. and nose kisses?? idk when we’re drunk and can’t see straight

Favorite breed of dog?

My black lab is the greatest, then lovely friendly czech stray ones.. but they’re closely followed by all other dogs.. so it’s hard

Do you ever want to be married? If so, what colors would you pick for your wedding theme?

Err idk.. so long as it’s a small crowd.. the fact that there should be a colour theme is why it needs to be small

Cursive or print?

what.. I don’t know.. they’re both.. things.

Favorite weather?

as @aquarelleskies put it so well: ‘late summer nights when the air finally gets flowing fresh and soft and you can breathe at last and sit on the ground cause it’s warm but it’s not horribly hot anymore? that!, also anything really.. just not extereme temperatures please’

Thanks for the tag.. i’m sorry if my answers all come across as pretentious i’m in that kinda tired mood

I tag @suchasinistergame, @liza-radley, @stonerose-elephant cos why not.. but yea no obligation to do it of course

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downey75haas-blog · 5 years

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A Social Background, Lynch.

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If a task or job is not working out, it is necessary that the brand-new supervisor allows their manager recognize there's a trouble as well as has a plan for how you can resolve it. Things do not constantly go to strategy, but having techniques in position to manage it shows that somebody is qualified and also trustworthy. Regardless of http://buyitdirect-my.com , Simply Friends eventually fails to live up to its early capacity, clearing up right into wide funny that rips off the charming possibilities. Quiting your hobbies as well as interests for your partner will certainly have an unfavorable impact on your total well-being, as well as ultimately injure your connection. A policy implemented such as this will not automatically develop that sort of environment, so the rule isn't mosting likely to aid as well as might rather create even more problems than it addresses. Their connection is initially based solely on sex, however their connection is so powerful, that they are bewildered with the have to be with one another. Numerous staff members shy away from offering their manager any type of comments and also you may coincide way. While you could totally enjoy having a short term partnership it could still be painful if things finish Having pals or family around who could sustain you is essential (although is not feasible for everybody). And also including a divorcing pal in invites to group occasions - even if they do not accept - helps them feel that the rest of their life continues to be undamaged. You have actually taken a house maternity test, you have actually validated the outcomes with your physician and also now you can't wait to inform your best friends that you're pregnant. This is the final as well as 6th in The Boss serial by Cari Quinn as well as Taryn Elliott. I likewise made use of to be homeschooled, because I don't intend to have new buddies not till Nick will come back. Not that I don't appreciate the jump right into the unidentified you would certainly be taking and also the real possibility that you might harm a partnership that presently receives you in various other means. It's no coincidence that individuals keenest to tell me regarding their fictional good friends are females. The former kids's solutions employer at Haringey Council was sacked when a report highlighted mistakes by social workers accuseded of securing Infant P, genuine name Peter Connelly. While Abby naively attempts to enlist the assistance of every grown-up around her fruitless, Gretchen undertakes damageding mayhem on the lives of Abby and their common close friends. Nonetheless, self-image objectives might indirectly have effects for future thoughtful goals; self-image objectives add to reduced responsiveness, which ultimately leads to reduced thoughtful objectives for both partners. This year, I made trips especially to check out family and friends in Arkansas, North Carolina, Ohio, as well as the United Kingdom. Their connection is rocky to begin with each of them pressing the various other buttons. That's how Chase ends up being bossman." After previous disappointments with office romances previously, Reese has actually forgoed ever before becoming entailed with a person from the work environment once again, particularly not the one in charge. Whether it's been a long marriage or a brief one, as Garrett puts it, 'a separation has to do with a connection between 2 individuals - not the moment on the calendar that they've been with each other. By his late forties, he was still a postal employee by day, creating a column for LA's underground magazine Open City in his leisure and also teaming up on a short-lived literary magazine with another poet. Many human beings have a main relationship with their lover and preserve a variety of pastimes and passions during different periods. 2 months back, he finished the connection (once again) because he had actually fulfilled another person as well as was intending to relocate to France with her. Other clothes-from informal Reyn Spooner island t shirts to Hugo Manager suits-came from Garys & Co It's okay to be controlling and let others know that you remain in a relationship with your SO, however gah. The other half of the volunteers check out a declaration that simply described Patricia as Christopher's employer (or Peter as Christine's employer), with no reference to their work environment love. Once again, we expected both social and intrapersonal effects of thoughtful and also self-image goals. Participants finished steps of their caring and self-image goals, understandings of roommates 'responsiveness, responsiveness to the flatmate, relationship high quality, self-worth, as well as esteem for flatmates at pretest, posttest, and also daily. The pretest step likewise included questions about demographics (gender, race/ethnicity, age, adult income). Relationship quality included actions of commitment, satisfaction as well as closeness. Since all ranges were highly associated at each time point (all rs > 67), One of the old Philosophers, Plato, I assume, claimed that 2 pals resemble 2 bodies with just one Spirit between them. On top of that, a boss must demonstrate the behaviour they expect of staff members, and if you desire staff members to confess to blunders after that you need to do the exact same. The connection, the connection in between the hero as well as heroine, despite the setting, the number or sort of sex scenes, the moment duration or sub-genre. It deserves discussing Pal Me is a Christian suspense, meaning a lot of the story's main problems-- primarily Scott's battle to resist lure as well as remain devoted to Rachel-- reference straying away from the course of God, and have lots of prayer as well. The one in charge notes the tasks as well as doesn't tell how to do it. This is most typical issue facing IT employees. Spotlighting a cult phenomenon and also its fans, a lot of who count the number of times they've seen the movie in the hundreds, this contribution to the Fan Phantasm collection covers never-before-explored topics associated with The Rocky Horror Image Program. Remember to subsequent with your employer one to 2 weeks before your trip to remind them you'll be out of the office quickly.

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asriels · 6 years

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i'm curious about your hugo and his relationship with leonora since he was absent in the cousins piece. also what is your hugo like generally?

With Rose, it’s so much easier than Lo ever imagined. She’dexpected to be shut out and shunned, pushed away, but if there’s a divide thenRose is reaching across it too. Darling Rose. The sister she never knew sheneeded.

Hugo is a different kettle of fish entirely.

It occurs to Lo one day that she hasn’t seen Hugo in aboutfour months. She’s at coffee with her Greengrass-side cousins, who she sees farmore than she should, probably, and they’ve come to a coffee place called StarWhale!, complete with exclamation mark. It’s the last place she saw Hugo, quiteby chance, and that gets her thinking while she’s waiting for her turmeric latte.

‘That,’ says cousin Julius, his nose wrinkled up, ‘sounds sodisgusting.’

‘I’ve given up caffeine.’ Lo shoots him a very cold look. ‘Whatdo you expect me to do, drink hot chocolate instead?’

‘Maybe tea?’ ventures Fenella a bit nervously. ‘Roiboos issuper nice.’

‘Roi-what the fuck?’ Scorpius looks up from his phone at last.‘You’ve got fancy as fuck, Fen-fen.’

‘Don’t swear,’ gasps Julius, fumbling to cover Fen’s earsway too late, ‘fucking hell, Scorpius.’

‘She’s fourteen, not six.’ Scorpius tips a lazy wink over atFen and she starts to giggle, turning away to avoid her older brother’s glare.

They’re annoying, Lo’s cousins, but she loves them anyway.Plus, Uncle Aeneas always buys her nice things to piss off her mum, so there’sthat.

‘Okay, so, hypothetically,’ she begins, twirling a finger, ‘howoften would you say it’s normal to see adult siblings?’

‘How adult?’ Julius raises an eyebrow at her. He’s very goodat it. He’s got the traditional heavy Greengrass brows (so does Fen, but she’syet to grow into them) and when he lifts one in that way, slow-slow, he lookslike an Ancient Greek sculpture. Lo’s been jealous of that since he learned howto do it. It seems highly unfair that she got the ginger genes while he and Fengot those.

‘Like, newly adult. Recently left Hogwarts. Not, like,middle-aged adult with kids.’

‘Dunno.’ Scorpius scratches his chin, expression pensive. ‘Depends,I guess. Al sees James quite a lot, I think. And you see Rose, right?’

‘Yeah. All the time. So we’d agree four months is a longtime not to see them?’

Fen frowns thoughtfully. ‘I guess not if they live, like,across the country? If they can’t apparate.’

‘But if they can apparate, and also live in London too?’

Fen shrugs. ‘Then yeah, I guess that is a long time.’

‘Don’t say I guess so much, Fen, it makes you sounduncertain,’ butts in Julius, always keen to seize a brotherly teaching moment,and then turns to Lo. ‘But yeah. I’d say that’s a while.’

‘Cool. Thanks. I have to go in that case.’

‘What?’

‘Aw, Lo, c’mon. I need you to get me Caterwaul tickets.’ Scorpiusmakes the very picture of misery sat there, but Lo ignores him. He haspractised the pose enough times to be a master.

‘Laters, losers.’ With that she sails off, pausing only to switchher turmeric latte into a take-out cup.

She bins it first chance she gets. Disgusting. She’s goingback to coffee.

‘Hello?’ The boy who answers the door is not at all what Lowas expecting. She sizes him up with intent consideration. He must only beeighteen or nineteen, still teen-young, a little too much youthful intensity inhis eyes and awkwardness in his long legs. All the same, he’s hot, in an indie-emo-rockerkind of way. Lo likes the way his dark curls fall into his eyes.

‘Who are you?’ She says it rather less dismissively than shemight otherwise. It’s never a bad thing to have a hot boy on-side.

‘I’m Leon. Who are you?’

‘I’m Leonora. Look at that.’

‘Hm,’ he says, a sudden smile easing its way across hisface, ‘would you look.’

He leans one shoulder against the doorframe, casual as youlike, and makes no attempt to hide it as his eyes rake up and down her and comeback up looking interested.

‘I’m Hugo’s sister,’ she tells him, before he says anythinghe might regret. ‘He does live here, yeah?’

‘Oh, shit. Yeah, he lives here. He never told me his sisterwas hot.’

‘I’m his bastard half-sister,’ Lo clarifies, following Leoninto the dingy flat. ‘Oh, fuck, this place is gross.’

It smells of weed and unwashed boy. The curtains are stillclosed, dirty clothes all over the floor. The only clean things Lo can see area set of drums in the corner and a few gleaming guitars, so shiny she can seeher distorted reflection in them.

Leon catches her looking that way. ‘We’ve got a gig on theweekend. We were practising late last night, so Hugo’s still asleep. Dunno howwe didn’t get any noise complaints, but we’re not going to tempt fate byasking.’

Lo might not be the best witch who ever lived—indeed, mightstruggle with some of the basics—but she does have an uncanny way of tellingwhat wards are on a place, and she felt the twelve noise-muffling ones as shewalked through the door.

‘Probs the spells,’ she says off-hand. ‘Is that… did thatuse to be pizza?’

Leon’s looking at her in that way boys do when a hot girlsays something weird, kind of put-off, patronising, and intrigued all at thesame time.

He shrugs. ‘Dunno.’

‘Okay. This is awful. Where’s Hugo’s room, please?’

Leon points at one closed door, the paint peeling off aroundthe handle, and Lo picks her way across the filthy floor to get there.

‘Have none of you heard of housework charms,’ she mutters asshe goes, and behind her Leon makes a confused noise. Guess that answers thatquestion.

She knocks on the door four times, then four times again,and when she gets no response she just pushes the door open and slides in. Thisroom, blissfully, is a little cleaner than the sitting room. Lo can only seethree pairs of unwashed briefs on the floor, for starters, and there’s a sheeton the bed, which is a good start.

Hugo’s still fast asleep. Unrepentant, Lo pulls out herwand.

‘Aguamenti.’

Hugo sits up with a gasp, thoroughly doused in water, andbellows.

‘What the fuck!’

When he spots Lo, he gathers his wet duvet to himself asfast as he can, expression thunderous, and repeats, ‘What the fuck.’

‘We’re going for breakfast,’ says Lo, tucking her wand backdown the side of her boot. ‘If I stay in this stinkhole one second longer, I’llhave to go Voldemort on all your arses.’

Hugo just glares at her balefully, sleep-mussed, one side ofhis curly red hair squashed flat. ‘I’m too hungover for breakfast.’

‘Get over it. We’re going.’

Thirty minutes later—delayed by Lo’s insistence Hugo shower—theyare sat at a brunch place in Clapham. Lo is eyeing Hugo up with interest. She’sonly ever seen him with Rose since school, and with family he always wears justjeans and a t-shirt or sweater, the most basic boy uniform there is.

Now she’s made him choose in a hurry though, he’s full-onindie rocker. Ironic floral shirt, tight-fitting jeans, boots, silver rings, thewhole fucking caboodle. She’s slightly surprised he’s not put eyeliner and ahairband on.

‘So this,’ she says at last, gesturing up and down Hugo, ‘thisis a Look.’

He squints at her from behind his sunglasses. Those arecool, too, hipster-style, and Lo’s still trying to process staid little Hugobeing… well, this.

‘So is this like a rebellious phase, or something?’ Shestarts to play with a packet of sugar, squishing it between her red-paintednails. ‘Or a gender thing, or—’

‘Our band’s doing well,’ Hugo interrupts. ‘I mean, reallywell. This gig we’ve got at the weekend—there’s a scout coming. He’s been tohear us before. He’s bringing his boss this time.’

‘Wait, really? You never mention it. I assumed it was somesmall-time thing going terribly.’

‘I don’t,’ says Hugo carefully, ‘like my family nosing intomy business.’

‘Why are you telling me?’

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a half-smile, achinglycool. ‘Because you won’t tell.’

Well, Lo supposes that’s true. Who would she tell amongstthe Weasleys, anyway? Only Rose, and even that she’d hold out on, because sensibleRose would probably think it was nuts.

‘Can I come?’

Hugo frowns. ‘Where?’

‘To the gig. I want to hear you.’

He shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. ‘Why?’

‘Because you’re my brother, dipshit. I want to be supportiveand all that lame crap.’

‘I don’t know.’ The blank lenses of his sunglasses stare ather. ‘I mean—they’re Muggles, Lo.’

‘Oh,’ she says, and then, ‘Oh. That explains a lot. Is that why you never bring them to meetus?’

‘Partly.’

‘Well, what else?’

‘It’s just… I’m really enjoying being away from the family.With Muggles, you know? None of them even know about Uncle Harry or Mum and Dad.They don’t give a single shit. It’s amazing. It’s the first time I’m not beingcompared to anyone or told stories about my cousins or—you know, all thatbullshit. I don’t want to change that.’

‘So you haven’t told them you’re a—’

‘Wizard? Fuck no. They’d think I was on a bad trip.’

‘Well,’ says Lo, processing all of this. ‘Fine. I won’t sayanything. Can I come?’

‘You really want to?’

‘Fuck yeah. I’ll chat you up like mad to this scout. I’m very persuasive.’ She smirks at him overthe top of her coffee, fluttering her mascara-laden lashes to prove the point,and Hugo wavers.

‘Well….’

‘I’ll tell Rose if you don’t.’

‘Fine. Deal.’

They’re good. Lo doesn’t know what to do about it. Up thereon stage, the crowd frantic with adoration around her, Hugo leaning into themicrophone like he’s never done anything else—they’re fucking good.

She finds the scout quickly enough, his suited boss standingout like a sore thumb in a sea of ironically ugly outfits.

‘Good, aren’t they?’ she asks, inserting herself neatly betweenthem. ‘That’s my brother. The lead singer.’

‘Mm,’ says the boss, non-committal. The scout just nods, buthis face belies his enthusiasm.

‘Seems to me,’ she says casually, tossing her hair, ‘thatthere’s a bit of a gap in the market right now for an indie boy band. All theindie teenage girls are desperate for something to… ah… plug that gap.’

For a second, there’s silence, but Lo knows she’s judgedcorrectly. Sure enough, the boss snorts with laughter, and shakes his head.

‘You might be right there. You have a phone number for them?’

‘Here, sir.’ The scout hands a card over. ‘Got it last time.They don’t have a manager.’

‘They’ll need one.’

‘They’ll get one,’ says Lo hastily, laying a hand on theboss’ arm. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’

‘You do that. Once they’ve got one, we’ll talk.’

Lo smiles, her very best seductive smile, and then walksaway into the crowd, swinging her hips.

She gives Hugo the news later, and pats his arm gently whenhe and his bandmates go into hysterics at the idea of a manager.

‘I know someone,’ she says reassuringly, already pulling herphone out. ‘I’ll make a call.’

Julius comes out of his first meeting with the music bossgrinning ear-to-ear.

‘We did it,’ he says, holding a signed contract above hishead. ‘We got all the edits approved. You’re signed, lads!’

The band leap up as one, hollering, and close each otherinto a wild hug.

Lo draws Julius to one side, trying to read the contract asshe does so.

‘Knew all those Muggle law books would be useful one day,’says Julius, handing it over to her. Then, in a lower voice, he adds, ‘oh, andall that time practising Confundus charms.’

‘Love it,’ breathes Lo, flipping pages over. ‘You got themeverything?’

‘Yeah.’ He collapses onto a sofa. ‘To be fair, only had toConfund a couple of times, and those were minor things. They were very accommodating.They really think they’re going to be huge. Hugo’s songs, especially—they weretalking about having him write for some of their biggest acts right now, whenhe’s done with their first album.’

Lo looks over at the band, Hugo in the middle, shining. She’snever seen him like this. He’s always faded into the shadows, silent anduncertain, lost in his own little world. Now here he is, a superstar in themaking, and he’s her very own brother.

The feeling that suffuses Lo from head to toe is alien. Shetries to analyse it, to pin it down and figure out what it could possibly be.

‘That’s pride,’ Julius leans in to whisper to her. ‘You’refeeling proud.’

Oh, thinks Lo. Oh. I suppose it is.

Hugo catches her eye from within the wild celebrations andhe grins, sudden and childlike and thrilled, and Lo can’t help smiling back.

Maybe it’s never going to be the same as what she has withRose, her and Hugo. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be just as good.

#hugo weasley #leonora greengrass #next gen #next gen fic #hp #w mine #hp fic #mine #Anonymous

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dwadasfea · 3 years

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Mr. Donald won the Honda Classic

In adults the most common cause is losing blood faster

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than the nike pegasus 34 hombre sprinterbody can replace it. Less commonly, small ruptures in the intestine due to cancer or polyps (small growths), and ulcers in the stomach and small intestine can cause iron deficiency anaemia. In rare cases, iron deficiency can cause permanent changes to the soft lining in the throat (Plummer Vinson syndrome). It was for this precise reason that Stuart and Brent were idling on the porch of Tara this April afternoon. They had just been expelled from the University of Georgia, the fourth university that had thrown them out in two years; and their older brothers, Tom and Boyd, had come home with them, because they refused to remain at an institution

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buzzfeedwheeze · 6 years

Text

The New Teacher - Shyan fanfic

Ugh

Sorry it took me so long to post the new chapter. I didn't know what to do with the fic (I blame the new Star Wars movie and the WiFi at my beach house), but I think I found my way again!

Hope you enjoy.

You can find it at AO3

Two months passed really fast and Shane got into a new routine. One that he actually enjoyed. Apart from having to give his son up two weeks a month, he was actually quite content. He would wake up earlier than what he used to, just so that he could have breakfast with his kid, generally milk and cereal because it was the fastest option and they were both lazy suckers. Then Shane would drop Andrew at school, go to work, banter with Ryan Bergara on Twitter and sometimes prepare a nice meal for Andrew and his boyfriend Steven. Yeah, somehow the new teacher became a part of his life, whether it was a conscious or unconscious decision of his. Usually at the lunch break he would find himself engaging of multiple discussions with Bergara about aliens, ghosts, movies and one time they even had a passionate debate about popcorn.

After one week of smiling like a teen after he received a new notification of @ryansbergara, he was forced to admit that there was more than simply bantering going on. Their fights didn’t feel real, or maybe they never were. When he took Andrew to school or went to pick him up he would wait to see Bergara arrive and then would tease him on twitter about how he looked ridiculous with his weird love for yellow clothes, especially one vest that he wore a lot. Ryan would always reply with a “stalker :)” and Shane would grin from ear to ear.

Now, he found it kind of hard to look at the man, that being the reason why he adopted the method of avoiding at all costs to get out the car near school grounds. Andrew reacted to this novelty with curiosity at first but now all he did was smirk when he got to the car, always making sure to mention the damn teacher. But although he wanted to avoid Bergara he couldn’t help but show up at the exact time he knew the teacher was about to arrive at school. He didn’t want to confront his feelings, but hey, he could still appreciate a nice body, with a great face, fantastic humor, amazing knowledge, sweet eyes... Ryan Bergara was the closest thing, for Shane, to proof of the existence of supernatural beings. Of course, he had flaws, Shane knew there was no such thing as perfection, but that man was pretty damn close to it.

But today was saturday.

Meaning no Bergara and no need to confront what was going on between them. The only thing planned for the day was a draft of a new cartoon he had to present for his superior on Monday and a dinner at the new restaurant that opened near his apartment. He was going to take Andrew and Steven and they were going to order enough food to make themselves ashamed on the next day.

A great plan. He had a cocky smile in place as he skimmed through the newspaper.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he looked up to find a very sleepy Andrew exiting his room. “It’s kinda creepy since you’re reading the Sports” the boy then rubbed his eyes.

Shane rolled his eyes. “Keep that attitude young boy and you won’t be having any pancakes today”

Andrew frowned. “You wouldn’t dare…” then his dad wiggled one eyebrow. “YOU WOULD! YOU SICK BASTARD!” Such a drama queen… I taught him so well. Shane smiled fondly as his son threw his hands in the air as he grunted on his way to the kitchen.

Shane got up quickly and took over his position on the stove. Andrew had already set up the table and was now resting his face on his hands as he watched his dad. Shane prepared the dough and after a few minutes, full of flips and a lot of cursing, the pancakes were ready. Before placing them on the table he turned to Andrew.“Want me to cut them on Disney characters shapes?”

“What is the point of eating pancakes if they are not Disney themed pancakes?” he raised an eyebrow.

Shane had to blink a few times because he wasn’t seeing big grown up Andrew, there, right in front of him, was little Andrew with chubby cheeks and small hands. He quickly turned and focused on the task of cutting the pancakes into various shapes to make Andrew’s new favorite character from ‘Disney’. The sound of nervous fingers tapping on a screen and the rhythmically sound of the knife hitting the board helped Shane concentrate and suppress the treacherous tears. It was hard to get around the idea of Andrew no longer being his little boy. I’m becoming one of those dads.

Soon he placed an almost perfect, considering that it was made with pancake, BB-8 right in front of his son. Andrew gasped and stared at the plate he like used to do when he was a kid. “I was going to do a Kylo Ren. But since you are probably going to post it on Instagram, and I know you are not ready to share your obsession with Kylo, I thought it was better to play it safe. A good ol’ bot for ya.”

Andrew reached over the table and hugged his dad. “You are the best”. He snapped a photo and munched on his BB unit quite happily. Shane just ate his regular stacked pancakes but his heart was so warn that he felt like they were made of pure gold.

They ate in silence and after breakfast Andrew washed the dishes and left to meet Steven and head out to Matt’s place. Some other friends were going to be there as well, their friend Adam, Ashley and a girl called Jen. Apparently they were going to have a Harry Potter marathon and survive out of popcorn the whole day. They were living the dream. Shane tried to tag along and Andrew said that even though he was cool there was no chance he was going since he had a project to begin. Boo hoo adult life sucks.

Shane got all his stuff and found a comfortable spot on their dining table. Put on his ‘Thinking Cap ON” playlist and started to take notes of some ideas he had on the past few days. But as he jotted them down he felt like they weren’t exactly very creative or even original. No one would ever bother to invest on a cartoon like that. So he decided to start by designing the main character. It wasn’t how he normally worked but he had a deadline and he needed to present something to his boss. Anything. He opened his memos and found some notes from the briefing he had had last week about the new cartoon. The notes were kind of confusing but at least he managed to get some of the things his boss wanted.

“Supernatural. Two main characters. Diversity. Funny. Not too scary. A bit of sarcasm.” Shane wanted to throw his phone on the street so a car could smash it. “I’m so fucked right now.”

The hours flew by like minutes and he only had the sketches of the main characters done. He opted for two girls. One was blond with a big nose and thick glasses. He decided that she was going to be a bucket full of sarcasm and bad jokes. The other one was smaller, a mix of Asia and Latin America on her features. He didn’t know what to do with her. He stared at the page in front of him and tried to see what was behind those big beady eyes he drew. Maybe she was going to be more like a sidekick, always scared and hiding. Shane was about to to write that, but something stopped him. That wasn’t right. There was more to those characters and without a plot he couldn’t fully comprehend them. Especially the tiny girl. Shane shut the sketch book and decided to prepare his lunch.

After having lunch, Shane did no progress at all. All he had was two sketched and barely filled profile about the characters. He had longed abandoned the notion of having a plot or even having ideas for one. So until Andrew and Steven called for him to go pick them up, all he did was complain, play Disney Crossy Road and watch old episodes of Brooklyn Nine Nine on TV. Their call would be a true blessing. He would finally be free of his responsibility and be able to go out and enjoy his weekend. Or at least his saturday night since he needed the damn project ready.

Then as if by magic his phone screen lit up. Shane turned his attention from the TV to the now vibrating phone. It wasn’t a phone call but a series of text messages from Andrew asking his dad if it was ok to pick them up an hour earlier and that he didn’t want to disturb him now that he was focused on a new project. Shane replied quickly with ‘im already on the car’ and a ‘FREEDOM’ followed by a series of gifs to illustrate his state of mind. He got up, collected the car keys and soon he was driving on his way to Matt’s house.

The traffic wasn’t that bad so he managed to arrive in less than 15 minutes at the fancy neighborhood that Andrew’s friend lived. The house was at the end of Capt. Hugo Vega Street, it was a huge modern mansion that even had some bushes cut in the shape of animals. There was a fucking crab and a flamingo, for fucks sake. Shane pulled over in front of the house and was about to honk when he saw that Andrew was waiting outside. He waved at him and watched as he began to tow Steven by his hand. Andrew sat by his side while Steven took the backseat. Shane watched through the mirror Steven laying down on the seat and chuckled. “So how wa...”

“Dad please drive!” Andrew interrupted him. “If we stay here longer I might have to go inside and kill Matt with my bare hands. Do you want me to go to jail?!” he looked exhausted.

“Let me guess.”

“You wouldn’t be able…”

“Matt’s idea of eating solemnly popcorn was a disaster and you had to deal with a very hungry Steven Lim complaining.” Andrew gasped and stared at him with wide eyes. “I had to travel with you two to a festival when you were little and I know some things don’t change.” with that he drove to the restaurant as fast as he was allowed to.

Steven practically ran inside the place when he smelled the aroma of hot meals being served. They checked their reservation and, thank god, got a great table. Soon a waiter with a fake smile kept on for pure obligation asked for their orders. Eyeing the kids barely keeping it together, staring at the basket of bread as if it was some sort of rare item, Shane picked up the menu and ordered an absurd amount of food. Lots of chicken wings dipped on spicy sauce, french fries with olive oil and herbs, one small pepperoni pizza, medium portion of quesadilla and a basket with a mix of different nacho flavors. It will do. When he finished listing almost all of the items on the menu one very scared, or maybe impressed, waiter left to go deliver his order to the kitchen.

“Food will get here soon, kids, don’t worry.” he looked at them reassuringly.

Steven looked up and his tired expression was replaced by a huge smile, which left Shane feeling pretty smug. He was capable of making those kids feel the joy of life again. Then he noticed Steven poking Andrew on the forehead, which only made the other one glare at him. But it was all he need, pointing at something behind them he whispered something for Andrew. Andrew perked up on his seat and managed a small smile when he saw whatever Steven asked him to look. Shane couldn’t hear what they were saying so he turned to look for whatever got them all so happy. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Ryan Bergara was there at the hall gesticulating like a maniac while talking with the maître. Shane of course still felt the urge to fight Bergara, but watching the other man arguing with someone, that wasn’t him, made some weird protection instinct kick in. It was almost like it was his duty to protect Ryan Bergara from all evil in the world. I’m so pathetic.

Deciding to ignore the situation was the best option for him, so he turned to look at the boys and noticed that Andrew wasn’t at his place anymore. Steven just shrugged and nodded his head in the direction of the teacher. I raised a snake. Shane thought bitterly as he watched Andrew talking with his teacher at the hall. Bergara was blushing and Andrew looked at him with one of his, perfected through the years, puppy eyes look and Shane rolled his eyes. Surely he was inviting Bergara to sit with them. There was one spare chair and Shane considered throwing it across the room for a second or maybe throwing himself across the room. Lost on his thoughts and still watching the chair squinting his eyes, Shane didn’t notice when Andrew got back to the table with the teacher.

“Hi, Shane… I mean Mr. Madej.” Bergara was blushing and stuttering and all of his previous thoughts of destroying the chair vanished. Boy, he was a handsome man.

“Hi. You can call me Shane Madej.” Stupid mouth. “I mean, Shane. Call me Shane” Shane got up awkwardly, bumping on the table and almost knocking down everything. He shaked Bergara’s extended hand vigorously. Then Shane helped Ryan sit, which obviously made things worse. Internally he was a mess, an eternal replay on his mind of Gordon Ramsay calling him an idiot sandwich.

Steven and Andrew were sat on VIP places to watch the show unroll in front of them. They kept snickering and whispering thing to each other, which left Shane no option but to make small talk with Ryan Fucking Bergara as they waited for the food. When the meal arrived he kicked Andrew on his shins and got the boys to talk with the teacher, who seemed to relax and appreciate better his meal.

After they ordered the dessert and were waiting for it to arrive, Shane noticed Andrew leaning in on Steven’s direction to whisper something then he got up abruptly and announced he was going to the bathroom. But before he left he winked to his dad, and Shane knew this was no teenage hook-up-on-the-bathroom plan. No. It was a masterplan to leave him alone with Begara. And his suspicions were soon confirmed when Steven giving him an apologetic smile left to go to the bathroom too.

When they left Ryan began to laugh which caused Shane to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “What?” he managed between giggles. “It’s just that no matter how many years have passed teenagers will always try the bathroom excuse to go make out.”

“Yeah. The ol’ bathroom excuse to make out” he said through gritted teeth.

“They even try that at school!” Ryan wheezed. “I just look at them with one raised eyebrow and say ‘really? I’ll tell you kid, I invented this excuse. Go back to your work’.”

Shane’s annoyance left just as soon as it arrived. He looked at Ryan with glinting eyes and in a malicious tone asked. “You’re telling me, you skipped class to make out with girls in the bathroom, Bergara? The shame”

Ryan gulped and stared at Shane mortified. And stuttering a bit he managed to spit out the words. “I-I supp-suppose at the time they were girls.” he sipped his cranberry lemonade and eyeing Shane by the corner of his eye said in a much clearer voice. “You can call me Ryan, you know.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s rude.” Shane’s heart was beating so fast that he felt like it was going to escape his chest. “Considering that people always assume I’m heterosexual or just deny my bisexuality, I should’ve known better.” he didn’t want to look at the man sat by his side. He knew the look of disgust people generally had on their faces when he admitted his sexuality.

“Bisexual? That’s nice.” Ryan’s voice was so sweet that Shane had to look up. He was looking at him with those gleaming eyes and soft mouth curved into a beautiful smile. Shane smiled back.

“I guess it is.”

Ryan sipped his drink again. Coughed a few times then turned to Shane. “So, Andrew was telling me some other day after class, that you work at Disney?” then after stealing one of his fries added. “Your son really loves you, he’s always talking about you.”

“Yeah, I do. I work at the animations studio.” he was torn between hugging Andrew and cutting his allowance. He’s basically selling me to his teacher as if I’m a cow.

“That’s so cool! I love Disney!” he now was turning his whole body on Shane’s direction. “You see, I have this friend, Helen, and we go every year to Disney together. It was where our friendship sort of began.”

“That’s really sweet. I, too, love Disney. Otherwise I wouldn’t work for them.” he also tuned his body. Their legs were touching.

Ryan looked at their legs, coughed a bit and blushing continued to make small talk. “Yeah, you don’t strike me as the type of man who would work at a place you hated.” his eyes followed Shane’s movements as he sipped on his green tea. Ryan shook his head. “Hmm… Working on any new projects? The new Moana maybe?”

Shane didn’t listen the question since he was too focused on studying those full lips moving. Quickly, he reached for his tea. When he noticed Ryan waiting for something, he apologized and asked him to repeat the question. Questions about his new projects always got him excited. He would feel like a secret agent when he asked for secrecy and judging by Ryan’s expression, he was probably into it. Shane and Ryan leaned on the direction of each other, and Ryan’s legs were now between Shane’s. They were whispering but sometimes, one of them would laugh too loud (Ryan) and other would smile like a stupid RomCom guy (Shane).

The kids got back to the table at some point, but the two of them barely acknowledged them. Their desserts were left untouched in front of their places. Shane had to admit that maybe Ryan had some great ideas. Well, and some not so great. “What if they are like the ghostbusters?! But they hunt sea creatures instead of ghosts.”

“Are you insane?” The boys would chuckle and Shane would just keep shooting questions at Ryan.

“You said you wanted two girls, right? What about two girls that investigate allegedly haunted locations around the world. The skeptic one could be a ghost that came back to have some fun at the cost of the other girl. Always pulling pranks and ordering other spirits to scare the believer who is obsessed with finding proof of ghosts existence.”

“Ryan Bergara, you are basically telling me to make a genderbent version of yourself.” Shane chuckled.

“Shut up, Shane. There’s more” he rolled his eyes. “The skeptic girl liked to scare the other girl at the beginning. But then they started to go to more dangerous places and she began to protect her and grew fond of the tiny scared, yet brave sometimes, human. I’m not saying there needs to be a romantic relationship, since they are teens, but they can be really good friends.”

“I like this. A lot. Even the romantic part.” then smirking a bit he added. “Now it definitely doesn’t seem like you are trying to be the smaller girl.”

“Well, for me it does sound like genderbent fanfiction of you two” Steven mumbled to Andrew

“What did you say, Steven?” Shane nervously asked as he eyed Ryan. I guess he didn’t hear it. But he’s blushing a bit.

“Nothing.” Andrew replied while glaring daggers at his sleepy boyfriend. “He just ate too much cake.”

“I guess we should be going.” Shane said as he started to look for the waiter to ask for their check.

“Yeah, it’s probably better. I need to take the bus home. We need to see how much I…” Ryan began but was cut off by Shane.

“No need. This dinner is on me. Would like a ride home?” Bergara shook his head. “Then I guess you should be going.” Shane added a bit off.

Ryan got up and said his goodbyes. Shane watched him walking out of the restaurant and something ached on his chest. He left his credit card for Andrew. “Meet me outside kiddo”. Just after he got out of the restaurant there was no sign of the man nearby, then Shane saw a small bus stop in the distance and a small figure walking in the direction of it. Shane ran.

The bus stop was close when he felt a hand touching his shoulder which startled him “Fuck, sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” a familiar voice made him relax and Ryan turned to stare at its owner.

“Hi. Again.”

“Yeah, I could’ve asked you on twitter, but I guess my brain thought it was a better idea to ran after you in the dark.” Shane was rambling. “And you have no clue of what I’m talking about and…” a small hand slapped his arm and Shane looked at Ryan half surprised and half in pain. “What…”

“Just spit it out, Shane”

He looked at Ryan and gaining back his non-justified confidence ‘spat it out’. “I was wondering if you you would like to meet me tomorrow at a coffee shop. It’s a small place, very intimate. We talk about my new cartoon and maybe other stuff.” I can’t believe I’m asking my son’s teacher on a date.

“Like a date?” Ryan’s voice was hopeful.

“No” Yes. “I mean, maybe.”

Ryan smirked and added before making a signal for the bus approaching the stop. “Then DM me the details for our date of Schrodinger, Madej”

#fanfic #shyan fanfic #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed worth it #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #andrew ilnyckyj #mine #my fic

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scriptureofashes · 7 years

Text

(Not) Sorry

Based on this. (@crazypantsjewels)

Somebody kill me.

Tony groaned into what was probably a pillow. His body hurt everywhere, shoulders stiff and back screaming in hellish pain. For a brief moment, it felt like those times in Afghanistan, where he had all but a nice and dusty floor to sleep on, but the warm leg twisted over his accompanied by soft snoring rushed the panic away before it could even peek out.

"Friday, remind me why I made the terrible decision of sleeping on this horrid couch," he grumbled. His joints screeched at him as he sat up. I. Am. Old.

"Because you and Mr. Parker decided to play Mario Kart at 11:07 pm and fell asleep at 3:42 am, right before your character was thrown off Rainbow Bridge."

Oh, right.

“Wait, what? He threw me off?” Tony glared at the kid sprawled out on the narrow end of the orange couch. “Little shit. I picked Yoshi and he got jealous.”

“I told you to choose the purple one.”

“What the everloving—”

Tony shifted his glare over the back of the couch. Loki’s returning stare was of amusement.

“Jesus, that’s it! I’m gonna buy you a bell,” Tony stated. He gently lifted Peter’s scrawny leg from his knee and stretched – ow pain, ow pain, said his muscles – before getting off the couch. His gaming remote tumbled to the floor. “And you wanted me to pick Waluigi. Waluigi. Friendship revoked.”

Loki huffed, stabbing at his half-frozen waffles. He was still trying to figure out how some things were supposed to be food and seemed pretty keen on getting to understand. Even if sometimes it made him beyond irritated. He did not understand toast, for example. Or tacos. Or cheesecake. Or cookies. Or pop-tarts, definitely not pop-tarts, which had made for entertaining debates with Thor.

Tony snorted at his bemused expression. “Just pour some milk and granola on a bowl before you give yourself an aneurysm.”

“Your ‘milk’ is fowl.”

“Oh great, another one who thinks milk is murder. You gonna tell me the Earth is flat, too?”

“What? Quit speaking nonsense, Man of Iron.”

“You already working on your anti-vaccination petitions?”

Tony felt more than saw Bruce opening the fridge behind him, probably to dig out the eggs and the milk in question. He always made pancakes for breakfast when he was around in the mornings. Speaking of which…

“Friday, give me hours.”

“8:50 in the morning, boss.”

Cripes.

Vision’s hand suddenly stretched out to grab Loki’s uneaten plate of (mashed) waffles and started to bring out pots and pans to help with breakfast. Water was already boiling on the stove and Tony could bet that was Bruce’s tea.

“I think what Loki means is that he doesn’t really like milk,” Bruce said.

“Sacrilege.” Loki’s eye-roll was so damn near perfect, Tony envied it. He turned to the living room. “Up and at it, Spidey. You’re late for school. Don’t want Aunt May on my ass again.”

There was a low, dragged out groan from the occupied couch, a flash of feet – one with the sock on and the other in a sneaker – and Peter was up. Tired and disoriented, but still up. Maskless, even. Took him a while, but he’d finally decided at least some of the Avengers should know who he was in case of emergency. And what better half of the Avengers than the ones that were legal?

Discounting Loki, but Loki... was Loki.

“I was under the idea that schools closed during weekends,” Vision mused, closing a cabinet.

Bruce smiled at him when Tony raised an eyebrow, that exasperated yet fond smile he had really missed. “Tony, it’s Saturday.”

“Oh. Is it?”

“Yes, boss.”

Damn, I am really off track.

“False alarm, kid. Go to your room, catch some Z's. Or would you rather I drive you back home? I’m sure May will want to check up on you.”

Peter yawned in response and sat on his self-claimed bar stool. It was his favorite spot in the kitchen, for some reason. Did a lot of homework there, listening to Tony and Bruce’s heated science arguments. Tony supposed it was because of the vents’ entrance right over it. Easy access to a tall, dark place and whatnot. Freaking spiders and their spider-lings.

It also reminded him of someone who had a bad habit of sneaking around in vents and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Nah, I’m good, Mr. Stark. I wanna be awake for… you know.”

Tony watched him rub his eyes, and for a brief moment, was reminded of how young he was. “For what? Adventure Time reruns?”

All noise in the kitchen stopped at his words. Even Loki wasn’t unperturbed.

“Uh, no…?” Peter frowned at him. “Mr. Stark, you do know what day today is, right?”

“Is it your birthday? Shit I thought I had that memorized already—”

“It’s the fourteenth,” Bruce enlightened. He kept cracking the eggs, but his tone was clipped.

Vision didn’t look much better. “Today, the once fugitive team of former Avengers returns to the country, in order to sign the renewed Accords.”

Shit. Shit.

Rain poured outside when Team Iron Man (plus the Hulk, Thor and Loki) were ready and assembled in the common room of the Avengers facility. The TV was on, switched to some news channel, a weatherman describing the exact storm going outside.

Tony wouldn’t’ve had it more cliche than this. Yes, morning started out as beautiful as his mood. Yes, now the rain mirrored how drastically it had shifted. You’re kidding me. He was half inclined to dump the tea he was holding on one of the Asgard brothers, considering they were the closest things to gods he had in his life. And who do you curse when shit happens? Exactly.

2:49 pm, his wristwatch read. Eleven minutes. Eleven minutes until those doors opened.

Natasha stood against one of the kitchen counters. As always, her red hair was perfect and her leather jacket was immaculate. She’d arrived at two o’clock sharp and had barely said a word since then. Tony was actually thankful for that. He was not in the mood to get into a discussion about his so called ego and the consequences if often arose.

He was already feeling like shit (read: self-conscious and scared as fuck) enough as it was.

He glanced at his reflection on the mirror across the room. Ergo. Slim-fit Hugo Boss, black, an indigo-blue tie snug around his neck and tucked into the vest. Blue tinted Armani shades to hide his ever so permanent bags. Look your best when you’re at your worst.

“… So I take the tank, drop it right off at the general's palace, drop it at his feet. I'm like, ‘Boom, are you looking for this?’"

“I once did something like that!”

Tony smiled at the sight of Peter and Rhodey, on the couch, laughing and sharing crime-fighting stories. He knew the kid did a lot that the Colonel didn’t, but his enthusiasm didn’t seem deterred. Quality trait inc: humility.

“He’s a good kid.”

Tony looked at Natasha for a moment. Her green eyes were searching.

“He is.”

It was followed by the same silence it had hung in the air until then. 2:52. She pushed herself off the counter, arms still crossed, and rounded the kitchen island to stand closer to Tony. He had the sudden impulse to activate his emergency wrist repulsor and blast her back to where she was before. He sipped at the cup of tea Bruce had brewed for him instead.

“How did you convince him to stick around?”

Here we go.

“I didn’t.”

He saw her raised eyebrow from the corner of his eye.

“That’s an ominous reply.”

Look who’s talking, he wanted to say, but he was still not in the mood for this kind of self-destructive discussions. Checking his watch again – 2:53 – he moved closer to Peter and Rhodey, taking a seat on one of the other couches and blatantly disregarding Natasha’s irked expression.

Thor and Vision were already engaged in a conversation, something about the stone in his head again – reasonable, it pertained to the reason Team Cap was signing the Accords – and Loki, fully dressed in his Asgardian drapes like his brother, fiddled with his scepter on the other end of the same couch Tony and Bruce sat on. The good doctor seemed to be avoiding Natasha’s presence as well. Kind of ironic – he’d somehow made peace with a Norse god who had wanted to unleash the Hulk and spread terror, but he refused to talk to the woman he’d once had a chance with.

“You’re not gonna catch up?” Tony asked, pointing at the aforementioned redhead with his teacup.

“We already did.”

“… And?”

Well, it was a matter of time before I lost him, too.

“And nothing, Tony.” Bruce clasped his hands, taking a deep breath. “Indeed, I wouldn’t have signed the Accords at all when this whole fiasco went down. You know what went on between me and Ross. With him in control? Never.”

“Right—”

“But I never would have fought you, either.”

Tony could only stare. Bruce’s mouth quirked in a faint smile.

“The Other Guy wouldn’t have, I mean. Not you.”

“But you did sign the Accords. And you’re here.”

“Yes, because you were in charge, this time,” Bruce said. “I trust you, Tony. If you were the one to amend and dictate the main rules for the Accords, then I know it’s something safe for me to sign.”

“You don’t know that—”

“Yes, I do.”

Tony bit his lower lip, gulping. He was… at a loss for words. Something that happened once in a fucking blue moon.

He cleared his throat. “So, what? She thinks you shouldn’t have signed them?”

“No, Tony, she betrayed you.” Tony’s head swiveled so fast he almost got whiplash. “She was supposed to help you and she turned on you without good reason. That bothers me.”

“Really? Bros before hoes, you’re gonna go with that argument?”

Bruce laughed, and Tony smiled. It sounded damn good, especially after the hell that had transpired. Silence fell upon them again, but it wasn’t the awkward type anymore.

“You were just trying to make sure no more fatal casualties happened. And because Steve has trust issues—”

“Not to mention his undying love for Barnes—”

“Rhodey,” Tony deadpanned. Peter was snickering behind the mask.

“And because Steve has trust issues with the government,” Bruce continued, louder, despite his own smile, “And his own morals, he couldn’t compromise. Even though he should have, for the collective good he claims to fight for.”

“You’re kind of contradicting yourself there, Brucey, you too have issues with the government—”

“I had issues with the government. Which you managed to solve. Through your supervised Accords. And you managed to ditch Ross, too.”

“Well, it was nothing, you know, I...”

“The last time we engaged in a significant conversation,” Loki suddenly said, scepter gone, “You radiated threat. You spoke proudly, confidently. You strutted. What extinguished that fire, Stark?”

The answer came in form of more silence, thick and tense. Tony let the question turn rhetorical, let the others assume it was the Civil War some of them had not been present for.

Nobody knew about Siberia and Tony intended to keep it that way.

“Boss.”

“Yes?”

“They’re here.”

Oh, God. Indeed, the clock read 3:00 pm.

There was a collection of eye-contact amongst the group, before they all, slowly and grudgingly, stood. Tony could already feel the tell-tale signs in his chest of a panic reaction – his shield hit the arc reactor – and the sudden lack of oxygen worsened at the sight of shut windows – he was going to kill me.

He was going to kill me.

A small hand – well, smaller than his – touched his shoulder, and Tony was met with the concerned look of Spider-Man’s mask. Immediately, his chest loosened a tad. Peter was young, so young, but he looked out for Tony like nobody else did. Different from yet alike to Pepper and Rhodey.

With everybody but Bruce and Rhodey with their backs to them, Peter took the chance to hug him tightly, like Tony was anchoring him. How is this kid even real? He hugged back, hesitant and awkward – like that would ever change – but tears were already pin-pricking at his eyes, and he so did not need that now.

“Alright, kiddo, we’ve been over this, I don’t do hugs,” he said, but his voice cracked and outed him. Rhodey looked at him like he wanted to haul him over his back and take him out of there. Tony wasn’t opposed, but unlike some people, he fulfilled his duties.

Peter pulled away, nodding his head, Spider-Man eyes still conveying worry, but he made his way to the entrance hall to greet the incoming team, where everybody was already standing. Tony took a deep breath.

“Tony,” Bruce whispered, because Friday had turned off the TV and there was the familiar, metallic whirring of the doors opening down the hall. “Tea.”

Right. Tony took a gulp of it, a big one, shared a nod with Bruce, and placed himself on the middle-front spot the group had left for him. Next to Peter and Bruce, and far away from Natasha. Perfect.

For a moment there was just silence, the anticipating kind. Then, to join the sound of heavy breathing, came steps, multiple steps, echoing over the tall walls and ceilings, growing closer and closer and closer. Peter’s breath hitched next to him – spider senses – and there were shadows to match those steps, until—

T’Challa came first. He was in his civvies, not even in a suit, and that sort of eased Tony a little, seeing how comfortable the wakandan felt towards him. After all, he was the one Tony had been communicating with when the Thanos dilemma called for one last Assemble, the one he had discussed Accords matters with, the one who hadn’t gone against his choices on said Accords and merely relayed Team Cap’s conditions with neutrality. They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t enemies either, so Tony’s returning smile to the king was nothing if not genuine.

The rest of them trailed right after him. They all came. Wilson, Barton, Lang. Maximoff. She looked poised, self-assured even. She tried to meet his eyes, defiant as ever, but the two members that came last required more of his attention than a spoiled, insolent teenager did.

He had a beard. Tony almost didn’t recognize him, but where there was a one-armed, rumpled up soldier, there was Rogers. Out of all of them, he was the one Tony forced himself to make eye-contact with.

I’ll be damned if I ever give him the satisfaction of watching me suffer.

Rogers eyed him back with a strange expression in those blue eyes, like forlorn and fond at the same time, and Tony really didn’t know what to make of that.

There was a moment where nobody said anything – nobody knew what to say – but Tony was Tony.

“Did you have a disagreement with the Gillette corporation?” he blurted. Nice going. “That’s one hell of a bird’s nest, Rogers.”

In all fairness, he expected the indignation that crossed most of their faces, like they didn’t think he’d ever be so disrespectful towards the captain. He did not expect Rogers’ answering chuckle.

“Months of exile in Africa will do that to you.” Tony didn’t reply. “I can see you yourself look as prim as ever.”

Tony gave him his best press smile, but he still said nothing. He was upright and still on sheer concentrated power of will, otherwise he’d have already spun on his heels and legged it. Flashes of a red, white and blue shield aiming for his head came to mind, and he had to take a deep breath in order to not accidentally call for the suit.

“You didn’t call,” Rogers stated. Ah.

“I’m allergic to outdated technology.”

Behind him, Rhodey coughed to hide his laugh. Rogers’ reaction wasn’t nearly as pleased. He broke eye-contact, and for a moment, Tony managed to breathe.

He nodded at Bruce. “Dr. Banner.”

“Captain Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark,” T’Challa begun. Tony turned to him. “I would like to thank you for your efforts to finally bring us all into agreement regarding the Accords, and for housing us despite—”

“What the fuck.”

Tony almost jumped at the sheer rage in Barton’s voice. The archer strode forward, past Wilson and now next to Barnes – who still looked like he’d rather be anywhere than here, and Tony kind of related to him at the moment – and pointed an accusing finger at someplace to the right.

“What. Is. He. Doing. Here.”

Loki raised his eyebrows, but other than that, he didn’t react. Nobody took the initiative to reply. Really.

“He’s reinforcement.”

Barton’s glare was piercing. “Reinforcement. Nat, how the fuck did you allow this?”

“I wasn’t consulted,” Natasha replied. Her coldness was obviously not directed at the archer.

The entirety of Team Cap, excluding T’Challa, looked affronted. Rogers was no longer attempting to look amiable, steel gaze and furrowed brows in place.

“You called Loki as reinforcement?” he accused. His voice was chilling. “Stark.”

“You were made aware of our circumstances, Rogers. We need all the power we can get—”

“So you decided to recruit a mentally unstable, reckless murderer to protect the planet he once wanted to destroy?” Maximoff spat. “Oh wait, that makes sense.”

Rhodey bristled. Deep breaths, Tony reminded himself, wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

“How on Earth were you put in charge of the Accords, Stark?” Lang scorned.

“You don’t get to say anything, you don’t even know what you’re here for!” Peter shouted, angrier than Tony ever heard him.

Deep breaths.

“You’re one to talk, how old are you?! Twelve?!” Wilson retorted. “You’re a kid and he dragged you into this mess!”

“I’m sixteen, asshole, and I’m here because I want to! Don’t you dare bring Mr. Stark into this!”

Deep breaths.

“Loki has redeemed himself in our eyes—” Thor tried to explain, but nobody was listening.

“You brought a sixteen year old into this?!” Rogers barked.

“He’s here on his own, Steve, calm down,” Bruce defended, already looking a little green.

Deep breaths.

“See? See?” Barton turned to Rogers, finger now pointing at Tony. “I told you we shouldn’t trust him. We should never have trusted him in the first place, not after these goddamned Accords, not after Ultron, not even for the Avengers initiative! He doesn’t care how he fucked me up, he makes me team up with that alien fucker, after everything he did to us, after everything he did to me, like the soulless bastard he is—”

Deep—fuck no, what.

“Oh, does it bother you that I allowed someone who fucked with your mind onto our team without asking you if you were okay with it first?” Tony snapped, switching eye-contact between Barton and Maximoff.

Everybody froze at his words, suddenly and slowly realizing their meaning as they saw who he was glaring at.

Are. You. Kidding. Me. He turned to Rogers, who was wide eyed and speechless, all the ice and cold of Siberia in his eyes.

“So, so sorry.”

He slowly sipped the rest of his tea, watching their mixed reactions of anger, confusion and dawning realization. He smiled.

“I trust you’re all familiar with the accommodations, but if I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfy.”

With that, he turned on his heel, handed Vision the empty cup, and did what he needed to do since he first heard these traitors were coming back: he got the hell out of there.

He could swear Bruce was smirking when he left.

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