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#But its not super intentional or anything. I just picture her a certain way
hajihiko · 23 days
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sorry if I phrase this wrong, I have a bad habit of doing that lol
First of all, UR THE BEST!!!! I love love love ur art so much and it makes me so many mushy ways and makes me ooper happy and whenever I’m having a bad day I look at ur art and I feel better. The way u draw is so… yay.
anyway, with that out if the way, I have a itty bitty question. I’ve noticed that a lot of the time you e drawn post game Mikan with a flatter chest. I was wondering if you have a specific head canon about that or if that’s just the way you like to draw her? Might be a weird question, but I was thinking abt it and didn’t see any harm in asking.
have a lovely day!!!
no i just legit think about women without a bra most of the time. If you don't wear a bra, your chest is gonna be way less pronounced. I like to imagine the ppl on the island being comfortable enough that they dot bother with that kind of thing
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reidsnose · 3 years
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happy campers
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overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together
genre: fluff
a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)
masterlist
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the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.
"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.
they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.
before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.
he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.
his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.
"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.
"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.
"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.
but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.
their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.
"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.
they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.
you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.
you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.
the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.
after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.
"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.
you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"
"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."
"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.
"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.
"yeah i know. goodnight pen."
"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."
you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."
you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.
you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.
"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.
"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"
"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.
"morgan keeps farting."
you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.
you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.
"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.
spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.
you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.
"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.
"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"
"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."
"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.
you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.
he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.
about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.
he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.
spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.
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ultra mega super cool taglist:
@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc
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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years
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One of Your Favorites
Jealous Bucky x Reader
Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.
Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 
Word Count: 8.3k
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   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 
   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.
   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.
   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.
   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.
   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 
   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”
   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 
   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”
   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 
   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”
   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.
   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 
   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.
   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.
   “All the easier,” 
~
   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.
   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.
   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”
   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.
   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”
   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.
   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”
   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 
   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”
   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.
   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.
   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 
   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.
   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.
   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.
   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.
   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.
   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.
   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.
   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”
   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”
   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”
   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 
   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”
   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”
   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.
   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”
   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”
   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.
   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 
  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.
   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”
   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 
   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 
   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”
   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.
   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.
   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.
   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”
   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 
   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.
   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.
   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”
   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 
   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.
   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.
   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.
   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.
   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.
   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 
   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-
   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.
   Fuck.
   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.
   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.
   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.
   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.
   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.
   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”
   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.
   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”
   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 
   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 
   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”
   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.
   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 
   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”
   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.
   “I’m not hiding myself,”
   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”
   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.
   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”
   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”
   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.
   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 
   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.
   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.
   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.
   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”
   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.
   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.
   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”
   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.
   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.
   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.
   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.
   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 
   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.
   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”
   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 
   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.
   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”
   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 
   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.
   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”
   “Brat?” You snarled.
   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 
   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”
   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”
   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 
   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.
   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”
   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 
   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”
   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”
   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 
   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.
   Water.
   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.
   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.
   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.
   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 
   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.
   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.
   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”
   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.
   Why? Steve asked again.
   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.
   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 
   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?
   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.
   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.
   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.
   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.
   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.
   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.
   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”
   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.
   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”
   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 
   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.
   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”
   “And what were you expecting?” 
   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”
   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.
   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.
   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.
   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”
   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”
   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.
   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.
   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.
   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”
   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”
   “But are you?” 
   “Am I what?” 
   “Enjoying yourself?” 
   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”
   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?
   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.
   “Thank you,”
   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.
   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-
   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.
   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.
   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.
   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”
   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 
   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”
   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.
   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.
   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.
   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 
   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.
   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.
   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 
   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.
   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.
   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.
   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.
   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.
   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.
   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.
   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.
   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.
   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.
   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”
   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.
   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.
   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.
   “No,” he responded curtly. 
   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.
   “No,”
   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.
   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.
   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.
   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”
   Oh shit. Your job. The job.
   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.
   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”
   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.
   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.
   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.
   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.
   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.
   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”
   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.
   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.
   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.
   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”
   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 
   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.
   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.
   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”
   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”
   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?
   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.
   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.
   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.
   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.
   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 
   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.
   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.
   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 
   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.
   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.
   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.
   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.
   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.
   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.
   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.
   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.
   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.
   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 
   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.
   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”
   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.
   “We?” 
   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”
   The shuffling started again.
   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.
   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.
   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”
   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”
   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.
   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.
   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.
   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 
   Fight. Move. 
   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.
   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.
   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.
   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.
   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.
   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”
   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”
   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 
   “Wha-”
   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”
   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.
   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.
   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.
   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 
   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 
   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.
   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.
   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.
   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.
   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”
   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.
   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.
   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.
   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.
   You nodded slowly, “I am,”
   Then a few more seconds.
   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”
   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”
   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.
   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 
   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”
   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”
   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”
   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.
   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.
   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.
   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”
   “Not to my face,”
   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 
   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.
   “I see your hands are exposed,”
   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”
   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”
   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”
   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”
   “Stunning,” 
   “Smart?”
   “Genius,”
   “Good at her job?”
   “Amongst the best,”
   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”
   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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What I Thought About "Through The Looking Glass Ruins" from The Owl House
Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!
When Disney announced episode titles/synopsis for the new season (On a day that left my head SPINNING!), there was one episode that I knew deep down that would cause controversy and discourse amongst the fandom. And that episode was "Through the Looking Glass Ruins." Not because it would be bad, far from it. Instead, because the episode was a Gus episode with a Lumity subplot, that meant that discourse would start as fans decide which story they prefer more. A situation that, might I add, would result in no winners.
Do you prefer the Lumity plotline? Well, guess what! You're a racist who chose to talk about an overrated ship rather than a heavily underrated character who just so happens to be a person of color.
Do you prefer Gus' plotline? Well, guess what! You're a homophobe who decided to shine a light on a character who's underrated for a reason instead of praising a ship that just so happens to involve two girls.
Either side you pick is going to result in making people mad. The only way to avoid that is by explaining in heavy detail that you still enjoyed one side despite preferring the other. Even if you loved both, you'll most certainly have to explain to everyone that you mean it and that you're neither racist nor homophobic. And all I have to say is this: F that.
F that S in the A right now.
Because I, or anybody else for that matter, shouldn't have to explain myself when it comes to saying why I prefer one plot line or the other. I shouldn't have to prevent getting ripped apart by some bulls**t, black and white mentality of people who can't accept that others like a show for different reasons than they do.
You wanna know what I think about "Through the Looking Glass Ruins?" Well, continue reading to find out. You'll have to make your way through spoilers, but it's the only way for you to learn why I consider this episode not worth any discourse that I'm already certain is cropping up.
Now, let's review, shall we?
WHAT I LIKED
The Opening Scene: I'm kind of digging how snappy and to the point these opening scenes are getting. In the span of what has to be less than a minute, we're given all the information we need to know: Gus is insecure about his illusion magic because he accidentally got Willow injured. It's a great way of setting up why Gus wants to prove himself to the Glandus students and a great way of showing how much Willow's friendship means to him. Look at how he's reacting a few days after the incident. He's still mopey and guilty about it, and I feel bad for the little guy.
Gus in General: And while we're already talking about him, let's give this episode a round of applause for giving Gus the spotlight without having him screw over his friends...except for Willow.
"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" really fleshes Gus out much more so than past episodes. As I said, it plays heavily into his own insecurities while proving how he's capable as an illusionist. He's also the best possible outlet to explore more about what illusionist magic can really do. It can't hurt anybody or work well in a fight. Instead, its strengths lie in the act of convincingly tricking others into thinking that something that should be fake is actually real. And Gus got to prove he really is a super witch because of his illusions through a jaw-dropping scene that's as dark as it was enthralling. The fact that he did it all by himself, without the help of an illusion elder who was right there, is honestly even more impressive. A lot of people aren't that interested in Gus as a character, but I feel like, after this episode, he certainly won a few more fans over.
Willow Getting Injured and Missing the Episode: This is a smart move, in my opinion. Willow acts as the voice of reason in the friend group, so if she tagged along with Luz and Gus right away, she would have easily talked Gus out of joining the Glandus kids on a dangerous quest. I love Willow, she's a solid character, but writing her out is really the only way the plot could have progressed.
(I also love that she wasn't mad in the slightest over Gus getting her hurt. She has every right to be, but she also understands that it was an accident, and Gus wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt her. And that's sweet!)
King’s Prerecorded Message for Gus: That's just adorable. We need more cute friendship moments between these two, DAMN IT!
Gus Being Sick of Luz’s S**t: Of all the characters I expected to get sick of the whole Lumity situation, Gus wasn't really one of them. I'd always thought it'd be Willow, primarily because the rest of the fandom latched onto that idea, but for Gus, I'd figured he'd be more supportive rather than annoyed. That being said, seeing him call Luz out for borrowing his library card to see Amity (Not ask her out. Just to see her) is not only a hilarious moment for Gus but also an adorable moment for Luz. It's something I would never have seen coming, but now that I have it, I want more. GIVE ME MORE!
(Sorry if I'm being a little intense)
Luz Trying to Cheer Up Gus: It's moments like this that prove why Luz is my favorite character.
Willow might have the most common sense out of the group, but it's Luz who still has the biggest heart. She knows her friend is down in the dumps, so Luz pulls out all the stops in cheering him up. Whether it's researching the first-ever human (really surprised he wasn't the tiniest bit excited about that, by the way) and lending him glyphs for his mission to help show up Mattholomule. She may be slow in the romantic relationship department, but episodes like this prove that she excels with a platonic friendship.
Bria: I consider Amar adorably optimistic, and I have no strong feelings for Gavin, one or the other. But with Bria? Holy hell, did the writers do everything they should with her!
At first, it seems like she'll be a generic nice girl for Gus to have a crush on. Only for that writing to be a perfect twist into how she's kind of the worst. You see hints of her true personality in the overly sweet way she threatens to force Amar to eat a bug he gets distracted by. A viewer's initial reaction to that would be to think that while she's sweet, she still means business. But no, it's actually a perfect way to reveal her true intentions while hiding them at the same time. Bria may be rotten to the core, but with how perfectly executed this twist was, I can't help but adore her contribution.
Mattholomule: ...I would sooner expect to have gone insane before believing that this little s**t weasel would make his way onto my good side. Despite that, here we are in episode five of the new season, and I like Mattholomule now.
The reveal that Glandus High forces students to believe that the strong survive and the weak are inferior explains so much for Mattholomule's thirst for power in "Something Ventured, Someone Framed." It doesn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot, but it definitely paints a clearer picture. It also explains his treatment of Gus, as well as Mattholomule's reasoning to help him. Because of Glandus High inserting a "the strong survive" mentality into Mattholomule, he belittles Gus due to thinking that illusion magic makes Gus weak. But after seeing how they're both stooges to Bria's mistreatment, he's quick to apologize and willingly helps Gus out. In the process, the two of them create a believable and cute friendship...a friendship that is absolutely going to be interpreted as something else by the fandom...which is something that I'm more than supportive of--HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! I WENT FROM ONE OF THE BIGGEST GUSTOLOMULE DENIERS TO ONE OF ITS SUPPORTERS IN LESS THAN A DAY! HOW DO THESE WRITERS MANAGE TO TAKE ELEMENTS THAT WERE ONCE ON MY S**T LIST TO THEN MAKING ME MORE THAN OK WITH THEM!
IT'S INSANE!
Mostly impressive.
BUT ALSO INSANE!
Edric and Emira: More so than ever, I am so happy that the writers took their course correction with Edric and Emira. These two work so much better as supporting characters rather than minor antagonists like several fans thought they would be after their treatment of Amity in "Lost in Language." They're quick to pick up on Luz and Amity's mutual affections for one another and do their part to help their friend and baby sister out. It's wholesome to watch, and, you know what, I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Edric and Emira Blight are much better mischievous twin characters than Fred and George Weasley. As much as I adore Fred and George, there is an issue how they're always referred to as Fred and George, not Fred or George. It's because their personalities are as identical as they are, so separating them is pointless. With Edric and Emira, they have enough individuality that you could enjoy them separately as much as you could seeing them together. Emira is more emotionally supportive in how she listens to Amity vent her frustrations about her feelings, while Edric is more of a doofus who can't take a hint to save his life. It creates a great set of characters who can potentially work well on their own. I hope they get explored more at some point, but for now, I'm happy with the cute moments these two offered already.
Lumity Moments: BUUUUUUUUUUUUT, nothing compares to the cuteness of these two.
I don't care if I'll be called a racist for it because these! Moments! These moments are the highlights of "Through the Looking Glass Ruins" for me! Seeing these two interact in this episode, now that the pining is mutual, was everything I could have ever hoped for, and so much more. Seriously, how can you complain about anything about all of this when you get cute bits like:
Luz getting flustered of seeing Amity with her hair down
Amity risking her job to help Luz
Amity being motivated to find the diary due to the possibility of a date with Luz in the human realm
Luz going through hell and back to get Amity her job back
All of the blushing
And that F**KING KISS AT THE END HOLY SH--Don't you dare think I'm not going to further discuss that. DON'T YOU DARE!
Gus' story was entertaining with how it surprised me in all the right ways, don't get me wrong. But seeing Luz and Amity's relationship develop more and more always fills my heart with glee that, believe it or not, I'm always going to remember it more. I love you, Gus, but I love Lumity more.
Philip Whittabeen: So we finally have a name to the alleged human who was here years ago, and we get properly introduced to him through a really visually appealing animation change. I'm personally curious to see where the writers go with him, but it's too early to say if his inclusion will be worth something. But I will say one thing, though. One thing, and then I'm going to move on.
Here it is:
Philip sounds eerily similar to Emperor Belos to me.
That is all I'm going to say about that.
Luz’s Sentences in Spanish: I want to give a personal shout-out to mi buen amigo @l-egionaire for pointing this out because there are some things to analyze in what Luz says in Spanish in this episode. Knowing what she means, it's clear that they are ideals that Camila instilled into Luz. Ideals that possibly show a lot about Camila's personality on top of revealing where Luz got her hopeful optimism and sense of determination. It's the second sentence that Luz says later on that I really want to delve deep into:
"Nada funcionará a menos que lo haga funcionar."
Translated, that means "Nothing will work unless you make it work." Again, this proves the dedication that Luz has filled into her soul, but to me, it says a lot about Luz's dedication to Amity. She wants to make this relationship work but fully understands that it won't unless she puts in the effort. It's a sweet sentiment that says so much about how Luz feels about Amity that some fans might not be able to pick up on if they don't speak Spanish. Or, in my case, have a good friend who finds the translation for you (thanks again @l-egionaire).
The Galderstones: Pretty interesting concept, I'm not going to lie. It's also interesting that of all the types of witches in the Boiling Isles, it was illusionists who were the ones that guard over the Galderstones. Because illusion magic can't really harm anyone, it makes a weird type of sense that they would be the ones to keep the Galderstones out of the wrong hands. And, even better, it showcases Gus' strength as an illusionist when he was able to take down Bria, who was hopped up on Galderstone power, through that same "harmless" magic. It just goes to show that if you have a big enough brain, you don't need to overpower somebody. You need to outthink them.
Malphus Being a Surprisingly Cool Dude: What can I say? I'm a sucker for expectation subversion.
Luz and Amity Crying: First of all, a HUGE round of applause to VAs Sarah-Nicole Robles and Mae Whitman through their vocal performances in this scene! They really sold how upset and broken apart Luz and Amity were due to their feelings for each other messing things up. More so with Sarah-Nicole.
Second, this might be the closest these two have gotten to a confession so far ("so far" being the keyword). I specifically latch onto Amity's expression after hearing Luz agree that she's always weird around Amity. In one way, it looks like Amity is surprised to see she made Luz cry, but in another, it could be that she realizes that perhaps that Luz has feelings for her as well. Or, at least, that's how I interpreted things. The thing about art is that there's no one interpretation to agree on. And that's what this scene is: Art. It's performed, written, and animated well, that no matter how you look at it, it's a masterpiece.
“I’ll call the hounds”: One line. One line was all it took for me to love the Keeper of the Looking Glass Graveyard.
Amity Dyes her Hair: I always assumed that Amity would let her original hair color grow out as defiance to Odalia. But dying it lavender? Thus crafting her own identity without having her be compared to either Odalia or Alador?
...yeah, that's brilliant. Whoever thought of that, you are a genius and deserve all of the credit that comes from it.
ALL of the credit.
Amity Kisses Luz on the Cheek!: I'll save my "Wha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo" for an actual kiss, but for now, THIS IS AWESOME!
This moment, much like other Lumity moments, was everything I could have ever expected and so much more:
Amity's instant panic after realizing she seriously just did that
Ed and Em looking fondly at their sister taking such a big step
The look on Luz's face, which may or may not hint that she realizes that the feelings are more than mutual
And the fact that Luz's legs give out soon after Amity leaves
It was adorable as all forms of hell, and it was a perfect way to end such a perfect episode...or, at least, an almost perfect episode. I do have some issues.
WHAT I DISLIKED
Mattholomule Helping Gus too Easily: The Glandus kids were right there, in-ear and eye-shot, yet did nothing as Mattholomule effortlessly helped Gus and the Keeper escape...how?
Gavin falling for Gus’ Illusion: I want to laugh at how stupidly easy that was...but it's too stupidly easy for me to forgive.
And that’s about it. Just two nitpicks that don’t really take away that much enjoyment from the episode
IN CONCLUSION
"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" keeps Season Two's winning streak going by being another solid A. It fleshes out characters, develops cute relationships, and keeps the story going despite being so character-driven. It's easily more than worth the time...but it's not worth any discourse that comes from some fans preferring one plot over the other.
I highly doubt that some people are racist for loving the Lumity plotline or homophobic for loving Gus'. Maybe some people are, but also consider that maybe, just maybe, a person loves a ship because it's their favorite, or a person likes a character cause he's their favorite.
Which.
Is.
Fine.
There's no definitive way to like a series, and demanding that people like it for the same reasons you do is not worth anything. Because, believe it or not, even Dana Terrace doesn't care how people love her show. In the AMA she did, when a fan asked if she's upset about fans obsessing over Amity's crush on Luz, this is her word for word reaction:
"Not at all! No, the main focus of the series will never be on any romantic thread but that doesn't mean those threads aren't important. And I'm thrilled that people connect to our characters!"
THERE YOU HAVE IT! The creator herself fully admits that she doesn't care what fans latch onto. She's just glad to have people who like the show in the first place! So don't create discourse just because some people enjoy a part of an episode more than others. The second you get that through your heads, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.
(Also, that's five episodes in a row that are hits. And, man, is that stinker going to hit harder because of it.)
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lyracasstuff · 3 years
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Heya!! I actually just found your blog and I would like to say how amazing your writing it! Aaaa it's so cute and you seem very sweet!! <3
I came here to ask for a idv match up! I'm a female, she/her, I'm bi but I do have a preference towards men. Also, I don't mind a survivor or hunter!! Whatever you feel like atm dear. I'm very energetic when you get me in the right mood!! I love baking and editing! I also quite like photography. I'm a very loving person but can get cold if I feel bad so it's a bad habit TwT. I do give lots of compliments to people and it may seem like i like them but I just really like pointing out nice things about people. I love hugs and kisses especially!! I love it if my s/o could give me attention but not too much yknow? Like i want them to be happy with their life with me and their life outside of our relationship. Umm I hope that's enough!! Thank you for making your blog! It is very nice!! You're doing great!! I appreciate you <3 (ps. Make sure to eat and drink enough~)
Thank you for caring about my health dearie~ Honestly,, I could also say the same for you..(。・ω・。)
And I'm quite glad that you enjoy reading my blog posts! It means quite a lot for me whenever I hear people enjoying my blog as much as I enjoy writing them..( ´ ▽ ` )
After much thinking,, I've decided to match you up with...
Joseph Desaulnier!!📷
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Let's first address the big elephant in the room: Photography..(・∀・)
Since the both of you love photography,, I can most *definitely* imagine you two taking pictures of scenery found in the manor..
As well as *some* of the silly things that happen outside of matches.. Although,, it's more on your end than Joseph's..
However,, I must also remind you that you WILL be bombarded with questions partaining to your "equipment"..(。・ω・。)
Whether it'd be a modern HD camera or your smartphone,, it's safe to assume that Joseph will be VERY much curious about these "equipment" that you have brought from the "future" ((even though we call it anything *but* from the future..))
"Are you telling me that this camera of yours can capture pictures instantly??? With just a simple press of a button??? Then, does that mean you won't have to stand for long periods of time to take your picture???"
((Fun fact: the first cameras that were patented require you to stand for long periods of time to take your picture which explains why plenty of the pictures during the Victorian Era were people staying in one position like standing..))
"This "smartphone" can ALSO capture pictures?? Would you mind showing me how, ma chérie??"
"The quality of the pictures are ABSOLUTELY DIVINE! From what time period must you be to access this kind of machinery, ma chérie???"
I highly suggest that you study your equipment thoroughly because Joseph *will* be asking questions about your photography equipment..
Well,, that and Joseph will *literally* fumble with *every* single nook and cranny of said equipment where he might actually break something on accident..
Which is rare for the gentlemanly and disciplined Joseph,, however we ARE talking about one of his biggest passions here..╮(─▽─)╭
Another topic here that is perhaps connected somehow is editing!!(⌒▽⌒)
Joseph is quite astonished when you told him one time that photos can be tweaked from your time period..
Now, on one hand,, he is amused as he sometimes *does* struggle with getting the perfect picture when the environment around him just isn't having it..
But he also can't fathom the idea of people actually editing their photos so much that sometimes,, the unedited version looks far too different than the edited version...
When I say that,, I specifically mean people who probably use photoshop just a *bit* too much..(^_^;)
Not that there is anything wrong about it as everyone knows.. After all,, sometimes we just use it solely for entertainment by making weird, abstract collages of people..
((Like photoshopping a bunch of characters from different fandoms to make some sort of crack-crossover movie poster..╮(─▽─)╭))
It just that Joseph prefers less edited photos as he believes that a photo can shine on it's own when it's taken skillfully..
((Another fun fact: Based from what I can gather, the French in the 1800s preferred a more natural look, which is evident by their choices in makeup like powder for the face or some simple rouge for the lips and cheeks.. Of course,, we are excluding the hair as we all know that big, elaborate wigs were all the rage in this era..))
In fact,, he might even throw a *little* shade towards photos that are super edited...(◎_◎;)
Pls tell him to calm down and not insult people who do something similar to that.. It'll only escelate and get worse in the future..
Okay,, now that we've discussed those, I think we shall head on over to other things, don't you think??(・∀・)
Another reason as to why I paired you with Joseph is because of your upbeat and loving energy!!(〜^∇^)〜🧡
Joseph's life before the manor was already pretty gloomy, and it hasn't really improved when he got into the manor..
So your very energetic and affectionate nature will surely bring in some lost warmth to his life!!(>y<)
Although,, please be patient with him for at least a little while.. After all, him *suddenly* receiving love and attention is a bit overwhelming for him to process all at once..╮(─▽─)╭
When he *does* gets used to it, he appreciates it very much..(∩_∩)
With that being said however,, he is still quite disciplined about the time that you two spend together AND the time that you two spend seperately from each other so you won't have to worry about having your boundaries being meshed together..(・∀・)
On the topic of affections,, Joseph will actually be a bit shocked to hear you dish out compliments to everyone in the manor.. And quite frankly,, as well as everyone else that you complimented
((Listen,, we're talking about the Victorian Era,, where modesty is highlighted as a core value..))
I'll be honest in saying that for a split-second,, Joseph *might've* actually thought of you as a flirtatious person
So when you explained to him that that's just how you are and that you just like to point out nice things about other people,, he's confused..(^_^;)
"Wait, but you complimented Mike's juggling act. Shouldn't that mean that you would like to court him??"
"Didn't you tell Victor that you thought he was sweet?? Pardon me for asking this, but are you... Interested in him, ma chérie?"
You're going to have to explain to him that just because you like a certain aspect of a person,, that doesn't mean you actually like them AS A WHOLE...
He may or not have demanded that you bake for him the next time that you two will have your afternoon tea together..(⌒_⌒;)
It's his "apology gift" as he puts it...
Okay,, I know I said that Joseph absolutely appreciates your loving side,, but he also *adores* your more "colder" side..
And no,, it's not because he's a masochist..(。・ω・。)
See, as much as Joseph relishes in the feeling of protecting someone he cares/loves.. Even he can admit that sometimes,, it gets too exhausting when your partner is the *literal definition* of a walking doormat..
I don't know about you,, but I kind of picture Joseph as someone who wants to have a partner that, at the *very least*,, can stand on their own two feet.. It gives Joseph a sense of pride,, see???
In conclusion,, I personally think that you and Joseph would work wonders for each other!! Different in your personalities, but united through the same common interest of photography.. I'd say its a decent balance of "opposites attract" and "similarities attract"..
🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷🎞📷
Author's note: On the topic of people photoshopping the heck out of their photos.. DON'T HARRASS/BULLY/INSULT THEM PLEASE!!! I will be blunt in saying that I frankly do not care whatever your intentions were, because when you strip said intentions away from the grand scheme of things,,
All that's left is a situation where someone insulted/bullied/harassed another person just for editing their photos a bit too much..
And when you put it like that,, wouldn't you agree that it sounds idiotic? Because in all honesty, it is..(¬_¬) After all,, those photos won't be affecting you much in the long run now,, would they??
And even if you said that you did it with good intentions, the way you acted upon these "intentions" was poorly done when it could've been handled *much* more efficiently...
So in short,, pls don't harrass anyone that you know that does these to their photos, it's not only for their sake but also yours..( ´ ▽ ` )
I apologize for ranting like that,, however I feel as though these types of situations are completely meaningless AND avoidable had it not been for the people that continue to stick their fingers into others' honeyjars.. So I personally as though it needs to be said.. Again, sorry if this rant is a bit unsettling and a bit "rough on the edges"..(⌒_⌒;)
Well that's about it.. Until next time,, I'll see you all in my next post!!ヾ(@^∇^@)ノ💚
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generallypo · 4 years
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[   Constellation ’Director of the False Last Act’ is looking at you.   ]
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dark academia!hsy, yeeee! the white coat is fantastic, but unlike kdj and yjh, she doesn’t really switch up the color scheme. no, her bum-aesthetic purple hoodie does not count. i think she’s super hot. i yell about how much i love her under the cut.
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yo han sooyoung is actually amazing, incredible, powerful, witty, drop-dead sexy... what makes her so irresistible? let me explain
1) yeah, kdj takes the kdj company to end of the scenarios, but please. how many times does he have to kill himself to get there? not to mention his intentional (and unintentional) kill count? 
sure, he does the job, but damn is he kind of inefficient about it. say what you like about hsy’s methods or personality, but the 1863rd round far surpasses the 1864th in terms of the lives preserved while still managing to take the team to the end.
without the benefit of cheat-like knowledge, skills, and resurrections, hsy almost single-handedly orchestrates the events of the 1863rd round to a satisfying finale. kmw, problematic as he is, survives and becomes an admittedly better person, yjh finds a timeline where he can rest in peace, and the rest of the cast have their eyes set on the hopeful end of all scenarios. all this, while only being HALF of a person (hsy originally split off into two after misusing her avatar ability). do her actions lead to the happiest ending? no. but it’s the one that sacrifices the least and saves the most. for the greater good, in other words. 
hsy may be an intrinsically selfish person, but unlike kdj, she has the ability to grasp the entire picture and avoid tunnel-visioning into a crappier, more convoluted and self-sacrificial solution. ironically, it ends up saving more lives. perks of being a talented writer, i guess. 
and the 1864th hsy emerges as a leader in her own right as well. the epilogue arc shows her assuming roughly the same role as her 1863rd self in kdj’s absence: yjh breaks off from the main group (AND BECOMES A TERRORIST AKFDJDSLKSL HAHAHA) to assume a similarly antagonistic role to the remaining members of kdj company. as a result, she’s the most powerful lawful incarnation remaining, and once more the incarnations circle around her for direction.
2) independent, confident, competent (hot and kinda shameless about it). this woman has the most delightfully unrepentant attitude towards life -- how to defeat the man with the strongest defensive ability without dealing a single blow? summon a horde of your naked dancing clones to terrify his innocent sensibilities, and then cackle at his helplessness. the fact that her sponsor is literally the chuuni-est cringefest in the entire galaxy and she gives no fucks about him is just additional comedic gold. her undisguised disgust for what should otherwise be a highly respected/feared entity is a clear indicator of her supremely dominant position over everyone else, and i admire her consistent irreverence of everyone and everything.
hsy is the only character who can consistently bully kdj, brush off his deflections, and bully him again. 1863rd round hsy gives kdj about 50 migraines in the span of 5 minutes of conversation before confirming her superior wit. jhw comes close, but unfortunately, she actually respects the rat bastard. i wish i could mention yjh, but let’s be real: he -- and just about every existing version of him -- has been whipped for the guy for at least 250+ chapters now. 
hsy, on the other hand, has no regard for anything except herself... man, i respect that so much. what a queen. 
and i won’t lie! i didn’t like her in the first fifty or so chapters. plagiarism? homicide? kind-of-in-general-just-being-an-obstacle-to-kdj’s-plans? yeah, i almost fell into the trap of disliking her purely because she didn’t cave immediately in the grand scheme of kdj’s plotting -- thereby denying me the power rush that came with seeing kdj bulldoze his way through the puny attempts of small fry characters. she’s neither a friend nor a despicable foe, but rather someone who acts independently and in her own self-interest, WITH the ability to thwart major players if need be. aka, the one who frustrated kdj’s plans -- and me -- the most. 
going by my previous isekai/power-fantasy trope experience, i figured she’d get pegged into the sexy-but-sassy harem candidate, or get killed off if that didn’t work out. in hindsight, i’m just pretty fucking dumb, but honestly, i can accept that with gratitude -- 
-- because in fact. the whole ‘she-gets-in-my-way-so-she-either-goes-into-the-harem-or-dies’ trope in light novels/webnovels and the like, is, frankly, misogynistic and boring as hell. i had some admittedly low expectations for ORV, which consequently blasted my ass to the moon and left me there sobbing for 42 years as i mourned my stupidity and paid my respects to its incredible ending and character development. hsy is a particular delight, especially in her meta awareness of these tropes -- blatantly stating she isn’t obligated to kdj for saving her life and declaring the damsel-in-distress cliche as ridiculous, for example. 
and it really is, because suspension bridge effect aside, you’re not gonna want to bang a total shady stranger in the middle of the apocalypse. it’s the little statements of self-awareness, self-worth, and frankness that build up hsy’s charm. as ORV progresses, these little windows of her personality bloom as her presence takes stage center -- and then BAM! you really get to know how strong she is, how hugely capable of love she is, how subtly but wonderfully she expresses it, how she leads and protects those close to her, and how damn good she is at it. hsy is amazing. we stan an iconic queen -- no, black flameS EMPRESS. *kneeling*.
3) writes an entire EPIC, just to keep one lonely, broken fifteen-year-old alive. like. at that point in ORV, i knew. i knew. hsy is the fucking GOAT. seeing her spend the rest of her life on WOS, making sure it reaches completion because it’s the only thing that will sustain kdj until the advent of the scenarios... that hits too hard. inadvertently, it also damns the rest of the world to the terror and tragedy that the star stream brings.. but that’s the call she makes in order to save kdj’s life. 
obviously, there’s no precise beginning to the timelines -- ORV is so neatly crafted in its cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader -- but i’d have to argue that hsy holds the greatest power in the trinity. creating the existence known as ‘yoo joonghyuk’ and granting life-changing hope to an otherwise forgotten boy.. is pretty powerful. yjh, for the most part, is a slave to the scenarios (until he breaks free in the 1863rd and 1864th rounds, in particular), while kdj (unwittingly) admits it himself: he’s truly the most powerless god in existence. i forget exactly where he mentions it, but it’s in response to lgy’s reverent commentary that, with all his knowledge and presumed confidence, kdj seems like the protagonist of story or a god to him. kdj’s inner monologue, of course, is appropriately self-deprecating and scarily accurate.
in a lot of ways, WOS -- and ORV itself, really -- is a love letter to readers. it’s a two-way connection, writer and reader, between someone who creates with all their passions and someone who consumes and responds with equally sincere feelings. Ways Of Survival -- the story of a man who defied death and grief and great powers far beyond his being -- is a fictional guide to surviving in a ruined world. but to a battered, bullied, and ostracized boy, it’s not just escapism, or wish fulfilment anymore. WOS is the map to navigating the hell of his reality. there’s a certain power in the right words being spoken -- or in this case, written -- at the right time, even if it’s only for the temporary burst of endorphins upon reading an especially delightful chapter. even if it’s forgotten the next day, you’ve managed to connect. you’ve touched another person’s heart. you made them think about questions they’ve never considered before; maybe, you made them smile. 
what can i say but the honest truth? ORV, without a shadow of doubt, has most certainly reached me. i’m a goner for this story and its excellent characters -- long, long gone. something has changed, something that wasn’t there the previous day. 
the mark has been made on the reader -- small as it is, it’s irrevocable. behold, in all of its little magnificence: the power of a writer, and their story.
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solastia · 4 years
Text
The Dragon’s Lair | 6
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- Riddle Me This -
Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader
Word Count: 5,094
Notes: It feels like so much has happened and this has been going on for so long, right? But this is actually the very beginning of my long and complicated outline lmao. Anyway, it’s time to meet our Sphinx! I wonder who this could be *insert lenny face here*  And if you’re wondering if there will ever be an end to me adding other kpop fandoms: no, no there will not be. We’re catchin em all. 
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The winter storms were slowly giving into the spring rains. Of course, this made everything horribly humid and muddy, but at least you weren’t snowed in for days on end anymore. 
As soon as you were able, you scheduled contractors that specialized in hybrid-friendly rooms to help get one prepared, as you fully planned on starting the adoption process for Mark when it was done. You had to make sure it had its own heating and cooling system separate from the rest of the house, insulation for winter, and UV lighting, among other things. Needless to say, it was not going to be a quick process, but Mark was safe at the shelter with Heechul’s near-constant vigilance. 
You’d also begun to clear out the barn that you’ve only been using for storage since your grandparents had adopted out all of their animals. You weren’t quite sure how serious you were yet about getting some animals in there again, but for now, it gave you something to do while construction was going on inside your home. 
You spent a lot of time throwing out or giving away anything unusable, sweeping out stalls, and scrubbing everything down until it shone like it hadn’t in years. Thankfully you still kept in touch with a lot of the people that had worked with your family over the years and it was easy to have fresh supplies brought in, half of which you weren’t even sure you’d ever use, but everyone was happy to hear that the farm was going back to work in a sense. 
Despite all these other changes, your relationship with Namjoon was settled into a comfortable path. Not to say that things were unexciting - the man never failed to find some new way to make your heart flutter - but it felt secure and steady now. Like the two of you being a forever thing was assured. It continually surprised you when you remembered that you actually hadn’t been together for very long. He felt like he’d always been there. 
Most days were simply routine. You’d both wake up at the same time and shower - together more often than not -, have breakfast and then he’d head to the shelter while you’d work in your office. At least three times a week you’d meet up to have lunch together, thankful that both of you had lenient bosses that wouldn’t freak out when an hour-long lunch turned into two or three. Once he was home for the day, the two of you usually just spent your time together. You’d watch a movie or read while you cuddled on the couch, oftentimes ignoring the screen to simply listen to him talk. The way he viewed the world was beautiful and you never grew tired of listening. 
Namjoon had put his foot down and declared date night mandatory. So every single Saturday without fail he’d drag you into town for some event or into the mountains for a hike, always doing his best to create the most romantic day possible. You’d tried to convince him that he didn’t need to do all this, that simply walking with him in the forest near your home was romantic as long as he was there, but he claimed he was still “courting” you so it wasn’t something he could just stop. You assumed that meant it was something to do with his Dragon side and let him do as he pleased. 
Once a week you’d usually tag along and go to the shelter, spending most of your time in the playrooms. According to one of the volunteers, Heechul’s shelter held an average of one hundred and fifty hybrids at any given time, which seemed an astronomical amount if one didn’t know about the secret wings and the fact that you were pretty sure he’d borrowed the whole ‘bigger on the inside’ concept. 
You tried to spend as much time as you could with all the hybrids, but as you were only one person there was only so much you could do. Still, you did have your - as Heechul called them - “cub club.” There have been many arguments in the little group about the name - starting with you wondering why they needed a name at all - since they were composed of all different species, but they gave in after Heechul’s continuous use of it and the fact that it apparently was cute, according to Namjoon. 
Basically, it was a group of hybrids that seemed to have singled you out as a clear favorite and would follow you around the moment you stepped into the building. The unspoken leader of the group was your little Mark, who was always waiting by the front door of the building when you would come in. Usually right next to him was Felix, who seemed to split his time between your cubs and Namjoon’s fan club fairly equally. Some newer friends of yours were a teen tiger hybrid named Seonghwa, and wolf pup siblings Changkyun and Jooheon. There were a few others that came and went, but these were your regular crew. 
Today was one of your shelter days, and you were once again surrounded in the playrooms. Mark was sitting next to you with his raccoon hybrid friend Donghyuck, who was an honorary member of Star’s Cubs at this point with how often he was attached to Mark. They were both coloring a picture of their dream bedroom - a sneaky idea you’d gotten so that you could have Mark’s room ready and decorated when the adoption finalized. 
Felix was having a Namjoon day, so after he’d run up to hug you when you’d first arrived, he’d gone right back to the class that Namjoon was currently teaching. You’d probably see him again at lunch, and then he’d talk a mile a minute about everything Namjoon was teaching him and demand cuddles. 
Changkyun and Jooheon were currently wrestling around on the floor near your feet. They were a complicated pair. They had both been found in the wild several months ago, seemingly without any sort of parents or guardians whatsoever. The boys themselves weren’t sure, but you judged them to be around nine or ten. They were smart kids but had obviously been living on their own for quite some time. They mentioned a “her” a few times, speaking of someone from their memories that would make certain foods or clean them, but they couldn’t remember who she was. Their mother, you assumed. 
Needless to say, they were perhaps not the most well-mannered children, but they were sweet and eager to please. To you, at least. The other volunteers usually tried to interact with them as little as possible after a few too many bites and temper tantrums, often referring to them as feral monsters. You had, of course,  taken that up with Heechul, but the damage had already been done and they were labeled as such by everyone. From the day Jooheon had met you, however, he’d decided you “smelled nice” and would bring you scraps from their dinners (that they apparently hoarded - bad habits left from living in the wild). It had taken Changkyun a little longer to warm up to you, but one day he’d just walked up and pushed Felix out of your lap and took his place. You’d scolded him and made him apologize, but you’d let him stay, deciding it had probably been a very long time since he’d been hugged by anyone besides his brother. They’d gotten better about waiting their turn and learning to ask first, but you still went out of your way to cuddle them as much as they’d let you. 
Seonghwa sat nearby doing his homework. He was...interesting. It was the nicest thing you could think of to say about that whole situation. The thing was, he was a nice kid. Almost seventeen, had been here for a few years. Definitely beautiful, no denying that. You didn’t know too much about his past yet, as you hadn’t wanted to pry and he didn’t volunteer much information. He helped you with the younger kids a lot though, asked you about your work, was genuinely sweet, and fun to talk to when he was just chill. The issue was...you were apparently his “first love.” 
He wasn’t creepy about it or anything. He really was super sweet. He would bring you flowers and treats, help you carry anything heavy, and was just really attentive. Unfortunately, then he’d start walking around you in circles, staring intently with his tail flicking around in the air as he sang to you. He had a sweet voice, but they were of course all highly inappropriate love songs to be singing to an older woman. And according to Namjoon, the circling and singing thing was a tiger courting ritual, so you took great care not to acknowledge it. You’d tried letting him down as gently as possible, but somehow he seemed to just consider it more of a challenge, and you really didn’t want to be mean and be his first heartbreak as well. Namjoon surprisingly - or not since he could be a brat himself - thought it was hilarious. He’d often ask how your tiger cub was doing, laughing when you’d swat him. Of course, he was still a territorial dragon, so he would occasionally go out of his way to kiss you with a bit too much tongue or pinch your butt where everyone could see to get the message of your status across. 
Things at the shelter have been fairly quiet and routine, as far as such a big place could be. That’s why you were awfully surprised when Heechul storms into the playroom looking distraught and frazzled. He brightens slightly when he spots you, rushing over and placing his hands on his hips. 
“You’d be perfect, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier!” 
You frown, thoroughly confused. “Thanks, I think. For what?” 
He clucks and shakes his head. 
“We have an exotic on his way here. He was one of mine that I raised until he was ten, and then he was adopted by this lovely couple. Unfortunately, they were a bit too old even then, but they adored Seokjin so I let him go.” He sighs wearily and flops into a nearby recliner. “They passed away last year and left him everything. He’d been living on his own just fine until someone tried to rob the place and he ended up hurt. Then the police of course had to see his medical records and - surprise! - a hybrid had been running around owning a house and living free for an entire year and they don’t like that. They were going to send him to a state-run hybrid institution, which essentially means death if you’re not a baby or usable on the black market. So, he called me in a panic and I have it all settled with the police that he’s officially one of ours and they don’t have to worry about him anymore. But he’s too used to independence to stuff him back into regular hybrid life, so I was thinking maybe you could foster him? Just like, let him hang out at your place until we figure out some way he can go back to living how he likes?” 
“I mean, I have to check in with Namjoon, but I don’t see why not. What kind of hybrid is he?” 
“Sphinx,” Heechul answered, his deadpan voice at odds with his amused eyes. 
“A what now?” 
“Sphinx. You know, part bird, lion and man. Likes riddles. Has big statues.” 
“Sure, why not,” you sigh. This place really made your brain hurt. 
Heechul chuckled and reached out to pat your shoulder. 
“Thanks. I know it’s a lot to deal with right now, with your new romance and getting ready for Mark, but Seokjin deserves a chance. I think you’ll like him.” 
“You know, it’s really creepy when you do that. At least let me tell you with words what I’m planning about Mark.” 
“I didn’t even need to use magic to see that’s where it was headed. He’s basically already yours,” he scoffs, standing up with a light groan. 
“When is this Seokjin going to be here?” 
“He’s on his way to the shelter now. I figured he could just come here first, meet you and have dinner with everyone, then head home with you guys after. If that’s okay.” 
“Again, just have to check with Joon, but it should be fine. Sphinx and dragons aren’t like, mortal enemies or anything, are they?” 
Heechul grins, “Hardly. In fact, I remember they were actually pretty good friends when they were little. Jin was older and would tolerate Joonie like a big brother. Not sure how well Namjoon remembers him, though.” 
“Alright, I guess. Joon’s class is over in a few minutes. I’ll go talk to him now.” 
“Thanks, Star!” 
You shake your head as he flounces away, wondering when he’d started using that name too. At this point, that was basically your official name. 
“Does that mean you’re going to have to stay home all the time? To take care of a new hybrid?” 
A little sniffle came from your right as you registered the fact that your cubs had just been quietly listening to your conversation with Heechul. Mark’s eyes were beginning to glisten with unshed tears and you quickly snatched the boy up and cuddled him close. 
“Of course not, sweetheart. By the sounds of it, he’s older than both me and Joon, so he’s not going to need much looking after. He basically just needs a place to crash until he figures out what to do.” 
“Oh,” he sniffles again, and you try not to laugh about the fact that it’s not helping, as his nose is starting to water too. “So you’ll still come to see me?” 
“Of course! And as soon as the farm is cleaned up you can come to visit me too. How does that sound?” 
“Really? And Felix? And Hyuckie? And...and…”
“Yes,” you interrupt, knowing the boy will try to name literally everyone he’s ever talked to. “Anyone that wants to visit will be able to. I just wanted to make sure it’s safe first, so no one gets sick.” 
“Okay!” Mark squeezes you clumsily but is quickly back to being a ray of sunshine and crawling off of you to go back to his picture. 
“Seonghwa,” you call, snorting inwardly as the tiger practically jumps to attention, “Watch the kids for a bit, okay? I’m going to see Namjoon.” 
He nods quietly and sets his books down, smiling softly as he watches you leave the room. 
*** 
As you’d expected, Namjoon was more than agreeable to the idea of helping his childhood friend but was understandably concerned over how his dragon instincts would react to another creature in his new den with his new...well, mate. (Although he insists that you aren’t official mates yet. And he blushes and refuses to answer whenever you ask what makes you official).
“It’s just, like, I don’t want to stress him out even more, you know? If he’s already going through all this, then I don’t want to be growling and snapping at him,” Namjoon sighed as he stood with you in the lobby, grasping your hand tightly as you both waited for Seokjin to show up. 
“I know, but Heechul told me that Seokjin is the only one of his kind as well so if anyone were to understand that this is a learning situation and not blame you for it, it would be someone like him, right?” 
Namjoon shrugs, “I guess. From what I remember, Jin hyung was really outspoken too, so I think he’d be sure to let me know if I do something to offend him.” 
“And if all else fails, you can just take him behind the house and piss on him,” you try to hide your grin as you tease him. 
He growls playfully, leaning down to tug your hair. “Watch it. I’ll mark you next.” 
“I thought you already did,” you quirk an eyebrow as you refer to certain activities that had taken place before he’d let you leave your bed that morning. 
“Hey, let's keep the rating down in my presence, please,” Heechul sighs wearily from the other side of you. 
The two of you fight valiantly to keep your giggles under control, only able to stop fully once a taxi pulls up in front of the building and nerves once again take over. 
The man that steps out takes even your breath away - quite a feat considering how whipped you were for your own boyfriend. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Namjoon, and has a regal bearing. He has a face that many would pay millions for, with full lips and wide expressive eyes. His hair and lion ears were the same mahogany brown shade, as was the fluffy tip of his long tail. It seemed he had no trouble showing off his lion side. You weren’t sure if that’s all there was to his transformation though, considering he was a Sphinx, not just a lion. 
He turned to pay the driver, who was actually smiling and laughing like the two of them were old friends. Seokjin reached out and shook the man’s hand heartily and shoved what was apparently too much money towards him if the way the man tried to argue about it was any indication. You supposed this meant Seokjin was the friendly sort, which boded well. 
You were a little confused by the fact that the hybrid was only carrying a single suitcase. Perhaps he had left the rest behind to be picked up later? From what Heechul had told you, the hybrid had grown up in a fairly wealthy household, spoiled and doted on. You would think he would be walking in here with twenty name brand suitcases, and yet here he was with only a small rolling suitcase meant for a child with Mario on it. Something about that felt wrong. 
The hybrid seemed fine, however, breezing through the front door with a wide smile like all was right in the world. He stopped right in front of Heechul and stared at him a moment, cocking his head. 
“You haven’t changed a bit, hyung. You don’t have a single new wrinkle. Are you trying to compete with me?” 
Heechul huffs and reaches out to hug the man. Seokjin laughs quietly, pulling Heechul into a bear hug so fierce Heechul squeaks a little. He releases him and pats him on the shoulder before he turns to Namjoon. 
“Don’t tell me you’re little Joon bug? You can’t be anyone else, with those dimples. I used to swear I could use them as cereal bowls if we ever ran out.” 
Namjoon shyly looks down and kicks his foot, but he’s smiling. “Hi, Seokjin-ssi. It’s nice to see you again.” 
The hybrid waves his hand carelessly, “Just call me hyung, Namjoon. Or even just Jin.  We don’t need honorifics with our kind.” 
Namjoon nods and pulls you closer, drawing the Sphinx’s attention. His thick brow raises your way as his smile quirks mischievously. 
“And this must be Miss Star, the one I’ve been hearing so much about,” he raises up his hand like he’s going to shake yours, but the moment you grasp it he holds on tightly. His face suddenly settles into serious lines as he looks down into your eyes. 
“Answer me this. As small as your thumb, I am light in the air. You may hear me before you see me, but trust that I’m here.” 
You hadn’t been prepared for this, for some reason. Duh, Sphinx’s whole thing was about riddles. 
You bite your lip and give it some thought for a moment. “A hummingbird?” 
His smile brightens back up and he releases your hand before he slaps Namjoon’s back. 
“Hey, she’s smart. You got a good one” 
“Yeah…” Namjoon answers dreamily, staring down at you with a dopey grin. You blush and grab his hand. 
Jin’s arm was back to flailing around again, and you were wondering if he was in control of his limbs or if it was the other way around. 
“Hey, listen, want to hear a joke about construction?” he asks. You’re not sure if he really expects an answer, but you squeak out a somewhat genuine sounding “Sure,” anyway. 
“I'm still working on it,” he answers, before cackling loudly, his laughter practically shaking the glass windows as he slaps his leg in amusement. 
You decide, if nothing else, he seems easy to keep entertained. 
You politely laugh and wait for him to finish before taking the chance to steer the conversation in another direction. 
“Are you hungry? We thought we’d stay and have dinner here before we went home. Only if you’re comfortable with that, though.” 
“I’m famished,” Jin answered, slapping his flat and obviously in-shape stomach like it was the opposite. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around. Kyungsoo still the cook here?” 
“Yup. And Wendy is making dessert,” Heechul tells him as he grabs the little suitcase. 
“Sounds great.” 
It hadn’t escaped your notice that no one brought up his past owners or any difficult subjects. You sigh quietly as you walk behind everyone as they went to the dining room, knowing that it was probably going to be all up to you. 
***
Dinner had gone as it usually did, with only the occasional fights to break up between over-enthusiastic kids. You used the time to observe Seokjin, trying to see what you could pick up about him in a group setting like this. He was polite and charming, yes, but very quick to steer the conversation away from himself. You supposed he wasn’t ready to talk about his problems, which was fine. You had time. 
He was also an enthusiastic eater and at one point seemed to have an almost mini-competition going on with the elephant hybrid over who could eat the most. You’d decided to break it up before anyone found out since the elephant was only seven and didn’t need to compete with a grown man. 
Seokjin and Namjoon seemed to get on perfectly well, thank goodness. Jin treated him like a little brother - making sure his bowl was full, teasing him every time he stared at you, telling him at least five jokes about giants. 
The man didn’t seem to have a shred of animosity in him at all, which would normally be a good thing. If one didn’t take into account what had happened to him. He should be upset and crying, or at least mad. Irritated. But he seemed more like he was just visiting some dear old friends, with nothing to fret about. That worried you more than anything because the poor man was probably just really good at covering it up then, and you hoped you’d be able to help him. Or that he’d even let you. 
These thoughts plagued you the whole way home, as you occasionally peeked into the rear view mirror to see Jin sitting quietly with his tiny suitcase that you still hadn’t been able to bring yourself to ask about. 
At least he was here with the two of you, somewhere he could be safe and have people looking out for him. That was the best you could do for now. 
After you show him to a spare bedroom, he thanks you quietly, smiling with his lips but not his eyes. The door closes and you sigh, retreating to your own room to wrap yourself in Namjoon’s arms. It haunts you that something like this could happen to him if anything were to happen to you. That he would get sent back to the shelter with nothing, despite the fact that you wanted to give him the entire world. You’ll have to ask Heechul what you can do to make sure he’s safe. 
***
When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the smell of meat cooking. Normally, this would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, you’ve been living with Namjoon for far too long and your mind now associated unsupervised cooking with near-death experiences, so instead your first reaction is terror. 
You jump out of bed, unmindful of your state of near-undress, and run to the kitchen. Your ears are hyper tuned to every sound, waiting for bellows of pain, but so far you simply hear the slap of your bare feet against wood and sizzling from a pan. 
You round the corner and grab the wall, catching your breath as you stare into the kitchen. Namjoon is sitting at the bar eating a heaping plateful of scrambled eggs and cheese, giggling as Seokjin preforms some a dirty gesture involving sausages and eggs. The Sphinx is standing over the stove with your bright pink apron, confidently cooking away, and both men are fine. You breathe a sigh of relief, slumping slightly as the tension leaves your body. Both men turn at the sound, smiling in greeting. 
“Morning, baby. Jin’s making breakfast. He’s a good cook!” 
“I see that. Morning, everyone,” you reply, walking in and trying not to let on how nervous you’d been. You peck Namjoon’s cheek and peek over the bar at the stove. 
Jin meets your eye and smiles mischievously like he knows what you were concerned about. 
“And here is one for you, madame,” he says with a flourish, setting a plate in front of you piled high with food and even garnished with a couple of tiny flowers from the garden. 
“Wow,” you blurt, honestly astounded by his skill. Everything looked perfect and you couldn’t wait to dig in. 
“What’s with that look?” He says loudly, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You just fell for me, didn’t you? Ah, I’m too charming.” 
You laugh and take a bite, nervously peeking at Namjoon to see if he’d taken the joke too seriously. Seokjin must have magic in his food because you doubted the dragon had even heard since he was too busy shoveling food in his mouth like you’d been starving him for months. 
“Slow down,” you cluck and tap his shoulder. He turns and grins at you with a disgustingly full mouth.
“Isth good,” he mumbles, and you laugh despite your disgust. 
“I can see that.” 
You swirl your fork around as you watch Jin settle in with his own plate, letting him get a few bites in before you strike. 
“So, Joonie and I both took the day off to help you get settled in. We figured you might need to do some shopping or something. I know the bedroom is pretty bare since we were focusing on another room right now.” 
Jin glances up and for a moment his gaze is troubling. You’d seen the brief flash of melancholy before he’d covered it up with a charming smile. 
“I could use a few things to tide me over until I’m out of your hair, I suppose. I do have my own money, but most places around here won’t let you shop without a license.” 
“That was nice of them to leave you money, They must have been good owners.” 
His eyes cloud over and he glances away from you, staring at one of the windows. 
“They were amazing parents. But the money that they left for me got taken away. I believe everything went to my Mom’s cousin - someone she didn’t even really know.”
“I thought you said you had money?” 
“I...uhh...had some stashed away. My dad never liked banks - didn’t trust them. He always had a rule that whenever you used your card, you should take out some cash and squirrel it away just in case. So we’d always take a little out and stash it in this fake book. From the outside it looks like Crime And Punishment, and who reads that willingly?” he snorts, peeking over at Namjoon. “Besides this kid, obviously.” 
Namjoon just shrugs, unbothered with the truth. 
“But...Jin hyung, you mean they kept everything?” 
The Sphinx sighs wearily and drops his fork, reaching up to rub his forehead. 
“Everything. The cousin’s lawyer grabbed my old suitcase from storage and told me I could keep anything I could fit in there as long as he approved of it. I got some clothes, my mom’s recipe book, my dad’s favorite fishing lures, and the stash of cash because he thought it was just another book,” Jin shrugs like he’s just telling a story, never mind that the sound of your heart breaking was probably audible at this point. 
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” you murmur, struggling to stay calm for his sake. 
He shrugs. “No big. I’m a hybrid. Should have expected it.” 
“No, you should not have. People treat actual animals better than they do hybrids and it’s disgusting. I’m so very sorry. I know nothing I say can erase what’s been done to you. Just know that you are safe here and welcome in my home for as long as you like.” 
Jin opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut again like he can’t figure out what to say. Namjoon grins proudly at you and slaps Jin’s shoulder. 
“Told you, hyung. She’s the best. And she’s right. You are welcome here and I can assure you that I feel no urge to fry you to a crisp.” 
“I...was not aware that was a potential issue. Thanks for not ruining my beautiful face, I guess,” Seokjin says, obviously done with the serious talk and choosing to fall back into humor. 
“And with that settled, I should probably go put on some pants. Thanks for the breakfast! We’ll meet up and go shopping in an hour, yeah?” 
You grin at them both and leave the room, the smile dropping the moment you were sure they couldn’t see. 
Poor Seokjin. 
He had grown up loved and cared for by those people, and just because he was a hybrid he’d lost everything. The fact that this could easily be Namjoon’s story if you were to kick it tomorrow didn’t sit well with you, either. You needed to figure something out that could stop this from happening. Or at least figure out somewhere hybrids could go besides back into shelters. It seems like an impossible task, but one that needs doing, obviously. 
As laughter filters towards you from the kitchen, you smile. One thing is for sure, your first task is going to be convincing Seokjin that he’s already home. 
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Hello! I completely understand why you have both asks and messaging closed and don’t worry, this isn’t a magica question! Well, not specifically a request for my own, but if this does cross the line, you are completely free to delete this! First off, you all write amazing descriptions for the magica and witches!!! They are so vivid and amazing to visualize!!! I followed and put on notifications specifically because it is so exciting to see new posts and soon be able to send my own in time!!! So, somewhat connected to that and the magica question I had, is there specific things that help you in creating them? Like, do you have generators you use for the posts or is there a sort of prompt list thing set up? If possible, I would reccomend making a help post so that others could have help making their own magica, which could also help lighten your load! No matter what you do with my submission, thank you for the inspiration and joy I feel from finding this blog!
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Thank you so much for your kind words!! I’m really happy you’re enjoying our work here. So, this is kind of a hard question to answer, but I’ll do my best. 
To start, there is no generator or anything behind the scenes that you guys don’t see- just the prompts themselves and myself (or mod Kyoko) at the keyboard. I can’t really say how exactly they go about their writing process, but I would imagine it’s probably pretty similar to mine! Everything I write for these prompts pretty much comes from my head- I generally read the prompt over a few times and then let my mind take me wherever it wants to go! There are a few exceptions to this though, so I’ll give you those pointers here. Just know that creating a Magica is such a personal process that everyone’s interpretation of a wish is going to be different! 
Colors- usually these are just whatever comes to mind for me first, though they do occasionally have meaning (particularly in witch forms). These are the easiest intentional choices to notice- gold for riches, black for darker themes, white for purity, blue for serenity or altruism, etc. Sometimes though colors are picked more for their thematic appeal or just because they feel right. 
Weapons/abilities- Another “whatever comes to mind UNLESS” kind of category. Often times a weapon or ability will jump out at me for an individual- you see a lot of swords because I have a lot of graceful or knightly magica, though the type of sword is always deliberate. But my biggest advice there is to not get caught up on typical weapons! I don’t do them very often (only when I really think it fits the prompt) but I will occasionally use a really fantastical weapon in a prompt, like the pill bombs or a shovel. The best advice I can give here is to go with what feels right and don’t be afraid to get a little wild! Abilities work the same way- they should generally complement the weapon chosen as well as the thematic elements of the magia you’re creating. A gentle, dreamy magia may float, while an aggressive one is super fast, and a darker one may pass through the shadows particularly well. Definitely feel free to get creative with these too, because they really can be just about anything. Just be careful not to go too powerful- the nature of magia is that they will inevitably fall, and you want that to feel as organic as possible! 
Soul gem placement- this is ALWAYS intentional (except in the few prompts where I forget to write it in…)! This I do based on where I think the wish came from in terms of its motivation. Logical wishes come from the head, compassionate ones come from the chest, self-driven ones come from the belly, and action-driven wishes come from the hands! There are of course exceptions that lead me to put them in other places (strength can be shoulder, and escape can be ankles, etc) but most of them fall into one of those categories! The shape is usually thematic or vibe-based by the way. Dreamy ons are moons, love ones are hearts, and so on. Just pick what feels right to you! (noticing a theme yet?)
Witch names- Another one that ALWAYS has meaning. I’ve joked here before about the number of diaper ads I get because of this blog, but I mean it when I say that baby name pages are your best friend! If you look them up, every name I use has a meaning that is relevant to the magia or witch’s nature. Names are the easiest way to inject meaning, so don’t miss out on the opportunity! If you want to stay really canon-compliant, stick to German names! I usually try to at least stay European, but I’ve written so many at this point that I’d start repeating certain names if I didn’t branch out a little. 
Witch natures- like names, they’re always relevant to the wish in question, or particularly, how I turned them on their heads. By the way, the best way to go about making your character fall is to directly create a consequence of their wish (a theme you will notice in most prompts). Barring that, make it a downfall of your character’s personality if turning a wish against them is impossible or just crosses a line (I had a trans girl wish to have been born female once and turning that on her would have been incredibly cruel). If you’re really stuck, have them overexert themself in battle and fall that way. Anyways, the nature will usually have to do with the wish or how they fell into despair, like one who was betrayed by a friend might have a witch whose nature was suspicious or hesitant. 
Witch labyrinths and minions- My best advice here is to just go ham! Take the themes you established with the magia and dial it up to an 11. This is also a prime opportunity to use color symbolism or even look up classic symbols for certain things to incorporate. I use a TON of floral symbolism in mine, especially in older prompts, and usually if any animals are present it’s also intentional. Now is also the time to introduce references to the magia’s backstory and personality. If their hobby was art, work that in somehow! Did they have a love of fairy tales? Throw in a reference to a classic story! Did your magia feel like they were robbed of their childhood? Discarded plushies and toys are a cool way to make reference to them. Even how dark/bright or dingy/clean the labyrinth appears can represent something! Just write what feels correct and don’t be afraid to get super in depth with it. 
The Witch- Basically the same process as above. Think of the themes, and represent them how you want! From there, really try to picture how the witch would move and how it would attack. From there you can decide how it is best to fight the witch! A plant based witch may have quick, thorny tendrils whereas a technology witch may be bright and disorientating. I also recommend basing how powerful the witch is based on the magia themself. A really powerful wish might make an intimidating witch, whereas a timid or passive magia may become a relatively harmless witch. Two-stage witches are also cool but definitely call for a the right kind of prompt. Usually I only make that kind of witch when a prompt deals with themes of rage, deception, or a sense of underestimation. Witches are really complex, so make sure to spend a good amount of time thinking them through! 
Wow, that was… a lot more than I planned to write! So yeah, everything about my process 100% came from my own brain and years of experience doing this kind of thing! As such, every person who writes is going to create something that is truly their own, which I think is half the fun of it, really. I sincerely hope this helps and was what you were looking for! I can’t wait to create even more magia and wishes for you all to enjoy. Much love!
-Mod Mami ✏️  
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fireinmywoods · 4 years
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the heart of the matter (is Leonard McCoy)
Followers...friends. I come to you today, hat in hand, to ask for your support in a certain fandom matter, a trifling concern of little real consequence which nevertheless has been driving me absolutely cross-eyed bonkers for some years now.
Simply put: can we please all agree that Bones is the heart of the Enterprise???
In AOS, I mean. I’m not aware of any debate over this when it comes to TOS, where the roles of the triumvirate have always been explicit, though there are a few different ways to identify them:
Spock = logos = superego = head
Bones = pathos = id = heart
Kirk = ethos = ego = soul
So clear! So clean! So universally accepted by Trek fandom at large!
Oh, but things get murkier in AOS, and there are plenty of posts floating around which suggest that it’s Kirk, not McCoy, who serves as the heart in the Kelvin timeline. Even the writers of the first two AOS films have outright stated that their interpretation of the triumvirate had the original roles switched, with Kirk as the highly emotional one and McCoy as the arbiter between Kirk’s passion and Spock’s logic. It’s true that this technically counts as a Word of God pronouncement by the actual creators of 2/3 of the series thus far, which some would argue renders it canon. However, it’s equally true that those same creators also felt that Kirk was a fuckboi and that Benedict Cumberbatch wonderfully embodied their vision for Khan Noonien Singh, so honestly, who gives a hot hollerin’ fuck what those dingdongs think. This seems as justified a time as any to invoke Death of the Author, and in fact, it’s my firm belief that despite the writers’ intentions, Star Trek and Into Darkness both support the original triumvirate breakdown.
Under the cut you’ll find a long-winded and self-indulgent ~*~character analysis~*~ of the Kelvin-timeline incarnations of Jim Kirk and Leonard “Bones” McCoy, reviewing why Leonard is still unmistakably the heart, unpacking what the hell Jim’s deal is, and finally taking a look at some key examples from canon, because ya girl believes in showing her work.
Let’s get down to business.
[A quick warning, as this is starting to spread beyond my own followers: if you don’t like McKirk as a romantic pairing, you ain’t gonna like part IV, so I’d bow out before then or just take your leave now.]
i. Leonard
Independent of Jim’s characterization, it should be blindingly obvious that Leonard is the heart. He’s by far the most nakedly emotional of our seven core crew members, a trait we see writ large and small throughout the films. He’s reactive; he’s passionate; he’s humane. He cares, first and foremost.
Not about Starfleet, of course. Leonard doesn’t give a damn about playing the game or advancing his career, or even really about the Enterprise’s mission - he has no desire to explore strange new worlds, he’ll pass on seeking out new life and new civilizations, and he spends half his time trying to convince everyone else that boldly going where no man has gone before is a great way to die horribly. Fuck exploration, fuck space, and fuck the Federation while we’re at it. Leonard is perhaps the most improbable of the Enterprise’s senior officers for the simple reason that he seems to resent everything about the job.
Well. Almost everything.
See, what Leonard cares about is people. He cares about their lives, about their stories, about their hopes and dreams, about their suffering. That’s why he entered and has stayed in an extremely taxing caring profession, and it’s why he’s still on the Enterprise despite his incessant bitching about everything they do. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to take care of the crew he’s become so attached to, and he finds fulfillment in helping the people they encounter out there in the nightmare of space.
In every timeline, Leonard McCoy defines himself by what he can do for others: the pain he can ameliorate, the wounds he can heal, the diseases he can cure, the small amounts of good he can bring to a galaxy filled with so much absolute horseshit. Unlike most of his colleagues, he’s not motivated by curiosity or an adventurer’s spirit or a burning desire to make sense of the universe. (Fuck the universe, too, as a matter of fact.) Instead, he’s driven by the incredible depths of his compassion and empathy and concern for the people he serves alongside and those they meet along the way.
Sure sounds like the heart to me.
ii. Jim
I actually totally get why some people characterize Kelvin-timeline Jim as the heart. He’s quite literally a different man than the original timeline’s Kirk, and he definitely has more of the pathos qualities to him. Early on, he’s a total spitfire, fierce and hot-blooded, quick to anger and other sharp-edged emotions we’re not used to associating with James T. Kirk. Even as he grows into himself and leaves some of those traits behind, he remains spontaneous, passionate, protective, and self-sacrificing - easy enough to mistake for the heart if you squint.
But let’s not confuse having a heart for being the heart. Sure, Jim is more openly emotional and reactive than his TOS counterpart, but there’s still a marked difference between the way he and Leonard express and act on their emotions.
AOS Jim definitely has a lot of feelings - big ones - but at the end of the day, he’s not driven by his heart. He’s driven by his gut.
Whenever there’s trouble, Jim makes a beeline right for the center of it. He’s impulsive as hell, rarely pausing to think past his first instinct, because he just wants to be doing something, no matter the odds, no matter what it costs him. He explicitly calls himself out on this in ST:ID when arguing with Spock: “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I can do.” He doesn’t have the patience or the constitution to sit and debate all the options, either internally or with his crew. If there’s a path forward from where he is, even a bad one, Jim’s gonna take it.
[Sidebar: One could make the case that the roots of Jim’s instinct to act reach back to his childhood traumas - canonically ignored abuse and neglect on the one hand, and the Tarsus IV famine and massacre on the other - but that’s a whole post on its own and we ain’t got all day here.]
Jim can’t not act, and while that gets him into a lot of trouble, it also saves lives. Sulu probably appreciated that Jim’s gut drove him to leap off Nero’s drilling platform without a moment’s hesitation after a man he’d only just met. He may have been a real shithead about it, but Jim’s impassioned insistence on going after the Narada and not wasting time on the possibility of a better option was key to saving Pike and Earth itself. And I don’t know why Spock was so surprised that Jim intervened to save him on Nibiru, considering that the reason they were there in the first place was because Jim couldn’t sit back and watch the Nibirans die when there was something his crew could do to help them, even if it meant risking a violation of the Prime Directive.
Jim is a good man with a big heart, and he cares about people, absolutely. But he cares most of all about Doing The Right Thing - which in the heat of the moment often translates to Doing Something, Anything, Hold My Beer.
iii. heart vs. gut (i.e., time for some receipts)
I think one of the main reasons Leonard and Jim’s characterizations get confused is because they both tend to act on instinct, only lightly informed by higher reasoning. However, I’d argue that their motivations and the nature of those actions are super distinct, and those distinctions remain relatively consistent throughout all three films. (And y’all know I really mean this shit if I’m out here calling ST:ID consistent.)
Jim is a big picture guy, figuratively and often literally heaving himself full-body into the mix of whatever problem the crew has encountered for lack of any better alternative. That energy propels the plots of all three films: the chaotic path he carves through the events of Star Trek and ST:ID, and the slightly calmer but still undeniably bananas course he charts for himself and his crew in the second half of Beyond.
As the heart, Leonard operates on a more micro level. His concern invariably lies with the individual people caught up in those grand events Captain Chaos is busy dragging them all through. While Jim’s zooming around flipping plot switches, Leonard can always be counted on to bring it back to the personal.
We frequently see this juxtaposed right there on film. Think of that slow pan through medbay in the first movie after the Narada’s ambush and the destruction of Vulcan: while Jim is stewing over what to do about the Big Bad, Leonard has stepped into the CMO role without fuss or fanfare to care for the wounded crew and traumatized survivors.
Or jump ahead to Beyond: during Krall’s attack on the Enterprise, there’s a gorgeous cinematic shot of Jim sprinting down the corridor with two crew members to take on the invaders - and then we cut to Leonard moving slowly through those same ghastly red-lit corridors, searching for casualties in need of help, visibly affected by what his scanner is telling him about the downed crewman he tries to save.
Actually, Beyond as a whole does terrific justice to each of their roles. (Perhaps because it was not written by dingdongs.) The first act finds Jim flailing around for a sense of purpose and forward momentum - an understandable consequence of a gut-driven character having stalled out for too long - and he ultimately gets his mojo back by spending the rest of the film careening through one insane seat-of-his-pants ploy after another. Meanwhile, in the quieter moments between all the mayhem, Leonard serves as the empathetic sounding board for both Jim and Spock as they struggle with deep emotionally charged secrets and Big Life Questions, helping them untangle their feelings and reminding them of the emotional attachments which are ultimately key to their respective decisions to stay on the Enterprise.
More examples, you say? Don’t mind if I do!
Star Trek
GUT: Jim hurtles around the Narada, improvising almost every step of the way and paying the price for his and Spock’s scheme in bodily harm, and ultimately succeeds in rescuing Pike. HEART: Leonard calls out for Jim as he runs into the transporter room, overwhelmed with relief that he’s made it back, and takes Chris Pike’s weight literally and figuratively onto his own shoulders to begin healing him while Jim runs back off to the center of the action.
Star Trek: Into Darkness
GUT: Jim argues with Leonard, Spock, and Scotty in quick succession as he’s preparing to drag them all off to Qo’noS, immune to their attempts to reason with him because, unraveled as he is by grief and pain, he can only focus on his visceral drive to Do Something. HEART: Unlike the others, Leonard is upset not about the larger moral questions of whether it’s right to go after John Harrison or bring torpedoes aboard the ship, but about the fact that Jim himself is hurt and hurting and won’t accept help.
GUT: Jim makes a snap decision to sacrifice himself by hurling his body against the warp core to realign it and save his crew. HEART: Shellshocked by the emotional grenade of his best friend’s death, Leonard suddenly realizes, through the haze of his own numbness and upswelling grief, that he might still be able to do something for this lonely radiation-ravaged body he’s been brought and the life it represents.
Star Trek Beyond
GUT: At the tail end of an improvised plan to out-maneuver Kalara, Jim quite literally shoots first and asks questions later, igniting a fuel tank and setting off an explosive series of events which he and Chekov just barely escape. HEART: The next time we see Leonard, Spock is opening up to him about Ambassador Spock’s death and his own plan to leave Starfleet for New Vulcan - and while he’s empathetic toward Spock (I can’t imagine what that must feel like), Leonard’s thoughts go immediately to the emotional impact of Spock’s plan on the other people he’s closest with. (I can see how that would upset [Nyota]. / I can tell you, [Jim]’s not gonna like that.)
GUT: Jim frantically strains to reach the final switch in the life support hub, believing that he’s going to die either way since the vent has already opened, but spurred on by the knowledge that his ability to move that switch is the only thing standing between Yorktown and annihilation. HEART: Knowing exactly what’s at stake, with the fate of the station and millions of lives hanging in the balance, Leonard’s greatest concern is that Jim won’t make it out in time.
iv. never bet against the heart
Let’s wrap this up with a deep dive on one of the absolute best examples of Leonard as the heart: his decision to sneak Jim onto the Enterprise in the first movie.
As relentlessly as I drag him for the, you know, poisoning and kidnapping aspects of that whole deal, there’s no denying that it is a god-tier heart move. Is it logical? Absolutely not. Is it really the right thing to do for either himself or Jim, as far as he knows at the time? Nope. It’s 100% the wrong choice for his own job security, reputation, and relationships with his fellow crew, and it’s almost guaranteed to get Jim into even worse trouble. Leonard is a smart dude who must understand that this course of action will likely end up coming back on them both in a real bad way. For someone who argues loudly and often in defense of self-preservation, this is a shockingly bad idea.
But none of that matters, because Jim shakes his hand and tells him to be safe with that horrible empty-eyed smile, and it gets him right in the heart, one-two-three.
One: sympathy, worry, and affection for Jim - his best friend, his wild and troublesome stray, his only family.
Two: guilt over adding onto Jim’s pain, and the instinctive urge to fix whatever‘s hurting him.
Three: fear of heading out into the unknown by himself, the agonizing uncertainty of not knowing what’s coming, craving for the security and reassurance Jim’s presence would give him.
“Dammit,” Leonard says, as his heart wins out over his brain. He knows this is a garbage plan, and he doesn’t care. His heart chooses Jim. That’s all that matters.
So he goes back for Jim, and to his own surprise it turns out that this Very Bad Idea was actually a Very Good Idea because Jim’s impulsive instincts end up saving Earth, and Leonard’s not in the habit of fixing what ain’t broke so he figures he may as well keep on chasing Jim’s crazy ass around the galaxy for a while, through jungles and off cliffs and into the goddamn afterlife when need be, until finally one day Jim’s gut drives him right into Leonard’s arms and he suddenly realizes that this is what his heart was choosing all those years ago: Jim’s wide terrified eyes, Jim’s voice breaking over his name, Jim’s hand pressing hard against his chest, reaching out for what’s his.
But that’s another story.
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cloviaglade · 3 years
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THE CRIMSON FLOWER ROUTE CORPORATE UNION AU
Yeah it came to me in a dream shared it with a friend and she said I should inflict it on the world so here we go
Warning: It's super long but I broke it up into chunks
(note not all members of the house fall into the categories listed also I'm not the best with corporate terms and positions. Also this was made for fun and isn't that serious)
The houses
The Black eagles generally were in accounting or sales. They dealt with a lot of the customers firsthand and were considered expendable
Blue lions where mostly in HR or IT
Golden deer mostly worked in maintenance and public relations.
Staff and church members are members of the board. Flayn has her position on the board despite her age because nepotism
The Seiros Co:
It's a large company that provide a large array of services and products that promote physical and emotional well-being. The company started out with good intentions but soon became a corporate monster
The company provides a host of benefits to its employees including on site housing, on site restraunts, on site pools gyms ect. They even have the best insurance on the planet. They even have horse therapy.
However they have to pay premiums on the health insurance, their rent is docted from their pay, they have to pay for on-site facilities, and those living on site are heavily encouraged to work overtime.
a lot of this is justified by cover every single health expense and days of for minor colds. Many employees seek mental health care more often than they seek physical care.
The on site living conditions vary heavily. Most are just a small white room with a single bed and a dresser. No visitors after certain hours and forget about outside visitors. However rumors are spreading that the board members have spacious luxury apartments.
The pay without all the benefits is not a wage you could live off of. But with the rent for these rooms doct from your pay you couldn't reasonably save up for different arrangements.
The strike begins:
Edelguard was finally fed up watching her team struggling. She hears constantly about how her workers are not making enough. How they have to scrape because they needed new clothes or shoes. Or worse how Petra wasn't able to support her sick grandfather
She hired a lawyer Hubert to look into information about their contracts and compare everything to labor laws. She needed to know how much of this was legal and if there was anything to be done about it.
Huberts lawfirm dealt with several lawsuits in the past. They are considered ruthless in court however media painted them out to be money hungry and demented
As expected, it was legal (mostly due to lack of regulation for these types of benefits) but really unfair, So Hubert suggested a strike. His firm would handle all the legal matters as they prepared a lawsuit and to unionize.
Edelguard was careful to organize it in private. Nothing was emailed. Nothing to tract them. Flyers were handwritten and posted in the dorms inviting members to secret meeting on slow hours.
Roles
What everyone did on the day of the strike/position they were in the office.
Black eagles
Edalguard: head of sales- she got everyone in her department and many others in different departments to simply stop working for the day when she commanded everyone to stop working via megaphone. She suck in hubert and went to a private meeting room to set up a list of demands.
Hubert: head of Vestra lawfirm- he snuck past security with the help of Edelguard. He brought a laptop and a phone with Hotspot so he could video call the rest of his attorneys from inside the conference room. Once the strike was in full swing he toured the place with Edelguard gathering evidence.
Ferdinand: senior sale manager has the highest customer satisfaction - when the strike was well underway he sent a mass email to everyone in every department including the CEO and founder herself in a very professional tone about how there is a strike. Lornez replied immediately and they when to the breakroom to enjoy tea while on the clock.
Lindhart: IT software specialist - first thing he did was turn off all the bans on websites. Everyone could go on whatever website they wanted to. He left the download blocker up and other safety precautions in place. Others could looks at memes and scroll through social media ect. He then returns to his dorm and takes a paid nap.
Caspar: manager in accounting slow but very accurate and a real team player - he hated the no pets policy with a burning passion so he let all the stray and feral cats that hang around the building in through one of the side doors. They stayed mostly on the ground floor and a few made a mess under the desks. He played with the strays with a few of his co-workers.
Bernadette: customer service rep. - she hated the calls filled with angry people. She clocked out, disconnected he phone, ran into her dorm and screamed into her pillow until calm. Once she calmed down enough she did some embroidery.
Dorothea: sales representative- has the highest upsale rate - she gets into her car and just leaves. She is still clocked in. Nobody knows where she went. Some say she met with a lover, others say she went on a binge. Nobody really knows.
Petra: bilingual sales rep. - she signed her phone off and immediately called up her family overseas. She proceeded to catch up and talk with her family for hours. She rarely got to speak with them due to the difference in timezones.
Blue lions
Dimitri: head of IT - he doesn't actually know much about IT and has little intrest in it. He got the job because his dad recommended him. With the outside website ban lifted and the lost of control of his department he frantically tried to get everything under control
Dedue: cyber security and protocol educator - although the bans are lifted he is still concerned about a cyber attack. He is frantically try to restore the ban but it seems like lindhart deleted the code.
Felix: hardware specialists - he was the one who should've been promoted into Dimitri's position and is a bit smug about how everything is falling apart in front of his boss. He bypasses the download blocker and plays minecraft on the company computer. Dimitri is too busy to notice that felix isn't helping.
Sylvain: HR rep. - he knew from the start that working conditions were shit. He was tired of trying to raise moral by doing everything but paying the employees more, giving them time off, and reasonable working hours. He went to the break room where Ferdinand and Lornez were having tea and ate a bunch of the snacks the company was reselling at super high prices then faxed a picture of his ass and balls to rhea herself as a letter of resignation.
Ashe: new hire in IT - was called down to the first floor to replace a keyboard a cat peed on. Found caspar was the reason the cats were let in. Caspar then persuaded him to play with the cats instead of shooing them out. 3 hours later he completely forgot about the strike and clocked out per usual. He completely forgot about the strike
Mercedes: head of HR - she meets with the board and discussed what to do about the strikers. They can't force them to go home since everyone striking lives on site and has every right to be there. No significant damages is being done to property. The only loss is from those not working (and a keyboard covered in cat piss and $35 worth of snacks) Mercedes is forced to find a way to get them to stop but in a way that doesn't really change anything. She leaves the meeting when it is over clocks out and returns to her modest house she calls out sick for the next couple of months.
Annette: HR rep - she tries to stop the chaos on the floor and to convince everyone to return to work. She is ignored. She wanted to ask for a megaphone to help gain attention but edelguard took the one from HR and the person with the key to one in the event closet is striking as well. She runs around in a paint trying to answer emails and settle everyone down.
Ingrid: IT helpline rep - helping Dimitri reset the ban on outside websites is above her pay grade. She at least know some of the terminology and the basics. She manages to set up a very basic blocker but it didn't block whole domains just the homepage of every website she could think of that's wasn't appropriate for work. Logging into the site allowed you to bypass the block. Ingrid feels like she will be fired for not being able to do more
Golden deer:
Claude: event planner - noticing that there was no work happening he finally decided it was time to actually do his job. He dipped into those sweet event funds and ordered as many pizza's as he could from every pizza join that could deliver. He busted out the sport balls and got employees to clear some room for flag football on the 3rd floor. He got Hilda to organize games of hide and go seek in floors 4 and 5. All games and activities were not officially approved but followed all guidelines.
Hilda: claudes assistant - organized games on the 4th and 5th floors. The cubicle although uniform made excellent hiding spaces and the food plaza just got rid of the old tables and chairs awaiting delivery of new ones so there was a ton of space to run around. Hidia had to jump between floors pretty often which was a workout all on its own but it was worth it to see everyone smile at work for once.
Lornez: head of advertising - he was tired of writing jingles and stupid commercials for the company. He wasn't aware of the strike until he got the email from Ferdinand. He offered to treat him to some tea he brought from home. They had a lovely talk and watched Sylvain stress eat. He tried to talk Sylvain out of resigning but failed.
Raphael: pizza delivery guy - he thought it was a joke at first since they never delivered pizza to the Serios Co but was persuaded by Claude. He got stopped at the front by the front desk clerk who was ordered not to allow any deliveries. Soon more pizza guys showed up and some of them where not as nice as Raphael. He eventually got in and successfully delivered his pizza.
Ignatz: accountant - he wanted no part of this and tried to work despite being on the 3rd floor. He doesn't have any PTO and is frantically trying to get his absence approved because he cannot work under these conditions. He got walled in with desks and chairs and hand to crawl his way out to try to find someone in HR to help him but found their office empty. Worst day of work ever.
Lysithia: Intern- hopes to join the advertising department - She needs this job for school credits so finding out that her boss told her to take the day off because of strike she immediately thought of her record. Lorenz assured her that she would get credit as long as he had any say in it. She played a round of hide and go seek before studying in Lornez's office
Marianne: customer service rep.- she heard the rumors and on the day of the strike she freaked out and when to have a panic attack in her car. She was on lunch technically but she took a 3 hour lunch. She came back in clocked out and decided to try that horse therapy.
Leonnie: pizza delivery guy (not nice) - she knows the customer didn't care that the order took so long to complete and was very understanding that the 30mins or less delivery time but seriously! 50 PIZZAS!! She had to stretch and press dough at top speed for like 45 mins then she burnt her hand while boxing some of the pizza's and she had to deliver all of it to this company just outside of town and now the person at the front door is insisting that the pizza was ordered by mistake oh no! Not today! You will take the pizza and you will pay for it and tip 25%.
Church
Rhea: CEO and founder - she honestly believes her practices are helping the community. She doesn't realize that she doesn't give her employees much choice. She thinks her employees are ungrateful.
Seteth: president - also believes the company is doing the best they can. He knows the dorms are small and brand but they house 78.364% of their employees and they all see a doctor at least 3 times a month. He hates that he has difficulty finding a balance between competitive prices, compensating workers, and turning a profit.
Flayn: secretary - she saw the fun going on in the 5th floor while on her lunch and thought it was organized by staff and didn't connect it as part of the strike.
Catherine: front desk - tried to turn away all the delivery drivers but more kept coming. She kept getting calls from upper management about the social media platforms and tried frantically to get in to make a statement but had little luck. She gave up when Leonnie demanded payment and let all the delivery people in.
Shamir: social media manager- she originally attended the meetings as a mole but soon learned that her fellow employees hardships. She drafted huge posts on every platform exposing the truth, changed all the passwords then took a vacation during the strike.
Hanneman: chief operational officer - he is calling and emailing the IT department about the bans every moment he can. He organized the meeting as soon as the strikers got rowdy.
Manuela: chief financial officer - although she is worried about the finances she has also been pressing about where to cut the budget first. Horse therapy is ridiculous! They own the whole ranch and are responsible for the upkeep of every horse. And all the horses are carefully hand selected and trained too. It's too much nobody uses the horse therapy because nobody has the time off to go to horse therapy!
Alois: Chairman - his title is mostly empty. He joined the strikers in a game of flag football scored a touchdown. Then went back to work as usual. Didn't check his emails about the strike since he only checks them in the morning when he first comes into work.
Gilbert: treasurer - he puts business first. Doesn't know his daughter works for the same company. Was friends with Dimitri's father. He is stressing about how the company will recover financially. He is the reason for the pay cuts so they can fund most of the benefits.
Cyrill: gopher - he gets paid minimum wage and lives on site. He considers himself lucky that he can drive the company car to go pick up office supplies from the store. He was homeless before he got a job at Seiros and feels like he is important.
Results
Since several members of the board were caught participating in strike activities the hubert and his firm counted them at strikers and used this in court.
The dorms were not considered responsible accommodations saying that prisoners in jail cells at least have their own toilet.
The news when crazy with the posts on social media. The account never replied to any dms or comments. When called they said a rogue employee posted them falsely because she was being fired.
Rhea was forced to pay a lawsuit that gave all dormitory workers an allowance of $1000 for rent for life. Even if they choose to leave the company.
Dimitri was fired for not actually having any training. Felix was promoted to the head of IT and everyone respects him.
Rhea looses her company. And most of her assets. She kept the therapy horse ranch and manages that for a living.
With the entire company now belonging to her since everyone above her resigned she made a ton of changes making the company more normal. She pays a fair livable wage to every employee. She repurposed the dorms into offices or solitary break rooms.
Huberts firm gets rebranded as a honest firm that wants to help the little guys. He later goes on to help other corporations unionize.
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tuiyla · 4 years
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So I finally watched The Owl House
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I wish I’d do this with every show I watch but it seems like only a lucky few get the She-Ra style rant of love treatment. Well, I finally watched The Owl House after my dash having been flooded for the past couple of weeks and I have some thoughts. Slight spoilers below.
First off, I love the whole vibe. I had a faint idea that this show would be about magic but I didn’t know much before watching - except for one thing, we’ll get back to that. The way it builds its world and deals with magic, though, is so refreshing. And I just have to mention here that I laughed out loud at all the Harry Potter jabs, they were hilarious. I expect we’ll learn much more about magic and its users as the show goes on but as far as the first season goes the introduction was really solid. It strikes the right balance between leaving things to the imagination but being more than “wave wand and magic happens”. It’s colourful, it’s creative, and I even like the ovens and school tracks, despite knowing that the story is about not conforming to those. It makes the Boiling Isles unique and make me want to learn more about the world even beyond the characters and the main plot.
TOH also presents a world that’s much more macabre than I was expecting from the Disney Channel, not that that’s a bad thing. I found myself thinking of Adventure Time at certain points and pondering, at scary moments, how kids would react. I think kids love this, though, and besides, nothing can be more scarring than Courage the Cowardly Dog was. It’s not that terrifying, of course, just daring enough to stand out. Overall the show has what I would classify as more of a Cartoon Network vibe than a Disney Channel one, but I admittedly haven’t really been following many Disney shows. In any case, I dig it. I dig the weird creatures and the beautiful backgrounds and I appreciate how alive the Boiling Isles feel. It doesn’t take long for TOH to immerse you in its world so I’m for one am hooked.
I make a big deal of loving the world itself because rarely does it happen that world-building stands out to me so soon in a series. I do love carefully constructed fantasy worlds but for the most part I’m more interested in the characters themselves. Here, I’d say it’s close to being a 50-50, which is something that even Avatar can’t say with its elemental masterclass in world-building (which is mostly because the character depth there is unrivaled but still). So yeah, kudos to The Owl House for achieving this. From Luz’s glyph magic to the covens and the titans, I’m excited to explore this world more.
Now, the characters. The real meat of any story. Starting with Luz, I have seen some criticism that she’s a generic hero so far, the “I’m a weirdo”, heart of gold, upbeat variety. I don’t think this makes her bland, though I do admit that being told over and over again that she’s weird makes me less engaged, even she’s also shown to be weird. I like the message of her arc and that the chosen one trope was deconstructed almost right away. I like that she’s relentlessly enthusiastic and kind to people and I like that she doesn’t have to get more bitter in order to get development. Instead, she learns from her mistakes but keeps being herself and brings her unique spirit to the Boiling Isles. We need protagonists like Luz, not just because she’s latina and bisexual but because her learning process doesn’t involve cynicism. Sure, there is a lot she needs to learn but her heart is presented as an asset and a sort of source of magic. I’m excited to see where her story goes, for sure.
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I’m gonna write briefly about the other characters before I get to my favourite one. Eda is super cool and I quickly got over the fact that she’s not Beatrice Horseman, lol. She embodies such a youthful energy but the show also allows her to be a middle-aged woman comfortable in her own body - well, owl curse notwithstanding. Also, her relationship with Lilith is one of my favourite parts of the whole show. Eda subverts so many of the mentor’s traditional tropes and I’m here for it. I kinda thought she was the villain based on her design and when I didn’t know anything about the show but hey, happy she’s not.
I don’t think I’d even seen a picture of King before starting to watch the series and at first I thought I’d get tired of him real quick. He’s the type of character who can get really annoying instead of endearing really fast if he’s not given any depth or charm, both by way of writing and voice acting. Luckily, I ended up liking King and his antics. His design is indeed adorable and Alex Hirsch is a genius. The only time I felt like he went too far was, perhaps surprisingly, in the book writing episode, “Sense and Insensitivity”, but even there going too far was the point. So yeah, King’s also great, there’s much potential in his backstory and general character.
Alright so really quickly, other characters: Willow and Gus are generic best friend characters and though they already have other things going on, I expect more development as the series progresses. I like that Willow is actually super powerful, just not in the way people expected her to and Gus is clearly also talented despite being younger. I’d be happy to see more of the other kids, get more familiar with Hexside. Edric and Emira are fun characters but they were really shitty in their first episode so I was kind of surprised they weren’t more of a nuisance to Amity later on. I’m all for supportive siblings so I wouldn’t mind a good relationship between the three but I feel like it’s more complicated than that with the Blights.
Finally, I also have to mention that Hooty is... well, quite something, isn’t he. Much like with King, I thought he’d be much more annoying but somehow the show is self-aware enough that it makes Hooty tolerable. I’m almost always torn between feeling sorry for him and being thoroughly weirded out, and I think that’s the intention? It’s fitting that he’s the titular character as he embodies the tone of The Owl House well in my eyes. He’s there for the comedy but there’s just enough there to hint at something more. Very bizarre, strong CN vibes, here for it.
Now that I’ve written a paragraph more about Hooty than I expected to, let’s talk about Amity. Listen, no other character stood a chance to be my favourite as soon as I learned Mae Whitman voiced Amity. That woman gave me Katara so now I have a quasi Pavlovian response to her voice. I’d also say that I knew more about Amity going into the show than I did about any other aspect of TOH. I heard somewhere that she started out as an antagonist, I knew her parents were abusive, and the reason the show blew up on my dash and my general online bubble is the Grom episode. Lucikly I only saw stills of Lumity beneath the crescent moon but the pure Sapphic energy of that was enough to gay migrate me to this show. I’d like to note it here though that The Owl House is a good show in and of itself, the queer rep is just a nice extra. I’m gonna spend the next couple hundred words going on about Amity and her crush on Luz but I don’t value only that. The Gay Migration is great and rep is great but I’m also grateful to have a solid show behind it. That being said.
I’m a total dyke for Amity Blight. I was very biased before even being introduced to her character but I genuinely find her to be fascinating and she has great potential. She’s developing quite quickly, like much of The Owl House, but an arc not being stretched out for several seasons before getting a rushed conclusion is refreshing. The progress hits all the beats and the only note I have is that I want more. She starts out as a generic bully but the opportunity to be more is there from the beginning. We find out early on that she used to be friends with Willow, we see that she works hard and values honest work. When she becomes Luz’s rival, it doesn’t last long before Amity shows that she’s open to new perspectives. That’s not to defend or even justify her earlier and nastier moments, Amity was rude to both Luz and Willow. But through all that, she becomes a complex character who does bad things but isn’t a bad person and grows when she gets the space to. I think that’s neat.
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Luz’s decision to befriend her might be cartoon logic but as someone who subscribes to the “kill them with kindness” ideology, I can totally relate. Amity’s softer side doesn’t take long to show and “Lost in Language” is such a great episode to show how complex people can be. Again, I was already biased when it came to Amity but she’s consistently shown to be capable of self-reflection and growth when others give her the chance. I think her past and potential future friendship with Willow is a great way to explore many different topics and I’m trusting the show to do it justice. I also can’t wait to meet the rest of the Blights, if only to get me some angst and further develop Amity. I half expected Grom to take the form of her parents. Too dark for Disney? Well, we don’t know Amity’s dynamic with her parents, exactly, but there’s so much subtext and potential. I love what we’ve already seen from her but I’d also say that she has one of the greatest potentials in the show.
Another way in which this potential manifests is Lumity, of course. Again, they’re developing quite quickly but that doesn’t mean it’s rushed. I’d love to explore Amity’s crush more and what Luz means to her. The Grom episode surpassed all expectations, still and gifs don’t do the stunning dance sequence justice. The animation is so smooth, the colours are amazing, the music is on point and the Sapphic vibes complete the picture. Poetic cinema, truly. Molly Ostertag and Noelle Stevenson are really out there giving wlw animation fans everything we ever wanted, huh. It also warms my heart that the crush is made very clear, not just by Luz’s name being on the note but by the delightful gay disaster that is Amity in “Wing It Like Witches”. I never thought I’d ever see such a relatable useless lesbian in animation so kudos to Dana Terrace and the whole crew. Wow, how far we’ve come.
So yeah, Amity is a funky little lesbian and I’m a 100% here for her gay disaster moments, but I also love where Lumity is going thematically. They’re great as foils and I’m hoping that they won’t get together at the very end. Look, I love me some Bubbline, Korrasami and Catradora, but it’s time a wlw relationship had the chance to exist onscreen and not only in the last episode. The Owl House has a great chance to do that. I know the creators don’t want romance to be the main focus and I respect that, I think the world they created deserves to showcased and explored to its full potential. Lumity could be a great subplot though, as representation on the one hand and as a thematically interesting dynamic on the other. Plus, Luz and Amity are just cute and sometimes, it’s as simple as that. Oh, and also the whole Little Miss Perfect thing? One of the best fandom discoveries I’ve made in a long while. Not only is the song truly perfect for Amity, I love that Joriah Kwamé went on to write Ordinary as well. This right here is why fandom is beautiful.
I think that’s about it for season 1 initial thoughts. The moral can be a bit on the nose at times, especially in the early episodes but the show is ultimately for kids and I appreciate its message. Interesting world and magic system, good characters, great potential for later seasons, just a well put together show that I’m really glad I started watching. I’m kind of sorry I didn’t keep up with season 1 as it was coming out but I would not have been able to wait between episodes. The pacing is good overall, deffo moves fast but I wouldn’t call it rushed, and the “filler” episodes still add something to the story. I’m not sure if I would still feel like the show moves at a fast pace if I hadn’t binged it but in any case it isn’t rushed, the necessary beats are all there and have time to sit. I’m going to watch as it comes out from now on so hopefully season 2 will arrive early next year.
Oh, and: I’m very new to the fandom, barely just found out about Little Miss Perfect, so any and all tidbits, fun facts, and fic recommendations are welcome. Also if you just want to chat my inbox is always open!
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Christmas on the Couch
Part Twelve of the 13 Days of Seventeen series
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Summary:
When your mom tells you that you have to give up your room for a foreign exchange student she out of nowhere decides to bring into the house you’re annoyed.
You’re less annoyed when that exchange student turns out to be a super cute boy, but you are still kind of annoyed.
Warnings: Use of toys, creampie, no condom- y’all know me be safe don’t live by my kinks, cunnilingus, uh probably something I forgot?
 -
Ever since you first heard about Chwe Hansol you hated him.
A Korean-american exchange student coming to live with you should have been exciting to hear about but it was so sudden and inconvenient for you that you couldn’t help but be annoyed by it all.
You were told a handful of hours before you were supposed to meet him, as your mom was running out the door. Your boyfriend had just broken up with you a few days ago with a simple text on the phone and then to top it all of you had to give up your bed for some stranger and it was Christmas Eve.
“You have to be kidding me,” you blurted out as your mom grabbed her keys. You knew it wasn’t her fault that she worked nights, and you knew that nobody wanted to work Christmas Eve, no matter how much of a workaholic they were. But she should have told you about this ages ago! You didn’t just decide to house a Korean student for six months over night. This took planning.
Your mother had been planning this for ages and hadn’t bothered to tell you until just now.
“You’ll live. Just let him in, Christmas is going to be the best I promise,” your mother assured. Before you could protest more your mother kissed you on the forehead and smiled. “Order a pizza or something. Have fun!”
And then she was out the door.
God you wanted to be mad. How could you not want to be mad after all this was completely uprooting your life in the worst way… You pouted at the door quietly before finally grumbling to yourself.
It wasn’t like pouting was going to change anything.
You looked down at your phone glancing at your phone messages briefly. Nothing from your boyfriend. Nothing from anyone at all. You sighed.
Winter break sucked, but if nothing else you could at least try to make this situation the best it could be.
You ordered a pizza like your mom had suggested and kicked your feet up on the couch, completely intent on absolutely hating this stupid exchange student as soon as he walked into the door. So when the doorbell rang, you grabbed your phone a twenty and didn’t even look up as you pulled the door open.
There was an eerie silence as you waited for something to happen. When nothing did you looked up in exasperation at the person standing at the door.
Tall boy, chestnut brown hair, wide eyes, pale skin. You squinted at him.
He didn’t have a pizza.
“You must be…”
“Hansol,” he replied. You were a little shocked by his perfect English, to the point that your eyebrows raised in surprise. He chuckled at that response but it felt more like a nervous tick then anything else. “My mother is American. I speak a lot of English at home.”
Your mouth fell open, and you were sure you looked a little dumb. You stood there staring at him, unsure of exactly what you were supposed to say to him. He was… A lot more attractive then you had initially expected him to be.
He was slender but not too skinny. He had some muscle to him and you knew that meant that he worked out from time to time. His lips were plump and when they curled up into a smile, it sort of made your heart skip a beat.
“Is it customary in America to just leave attractive boys out on your front porch?” He asked with a soft chuckle. Your cheeks flamed red and you stepped out of his way, holding the door open for him.
“Sorry, sorry,” you murmured. “Please come in, you must be tired.”
He brushed past you, pulling his suitcase in with him, he looked at you, a certain air of humor in his expression. You didn’t really understand it, so you elected just to ignore it, swallowing hard.
You were going to hate him, come on you really had to hate him.
“You’ll be staying in my room,” you mumbled. You showed him down the hallway, pushing open the door in question. Hansol walked into the room quietly, his eyes tracing around it from corner to corner. You had a few posters and such on your wall, pictures of you and your friends... You hadn’t taken down any of it in the hopes it would discourage him from staying in the room.
His eyebrows rose a little and he pointed to one of the posters.
“I see you are a Directioner?”
Maybe you hadn’t really thought all of this through. Your cheeks blazed red and you coughed into your palm, trying to pretend you weren’t embarrassed.
“I ordered a pizza. It should be here soon, so if you want any just tell me,” you stated. You placed a hand on your hip and rose your eyes up to Hansol’s. “I’m just going to be honest I really don’t like you.”
Hansol’s eyebrows rose again and you could see the surprise and amusement in his eyes.
“Oh?”
“I wasn’t told about you until an hour ago, you’re taking my room and your presence in my life just isn’t convenient,” you grumbled. For some reason, he really didn’t look bothered by your words. He wandered close to you as you spoke, letting his luggage sit in the middle of the room.
“Not convenient?” He asked you. You nodded.
“I don’t want to sleep on the couch over Christmas cause some guy is in my house,” you grunted back. He was still growing closer to you.
“Well you know, at least it’s a cute guy in your house,” he stated. You rolled your eyes.
“Cute?” You let your eyes drag up and down his body, but you immediately regretted doing so. He was cute. God, more than cute. He was hot. Despite the fact that his body was hidden beneath his baggy clothes you knew that he had to have been ripped. “Do you know what cute means in English dear?” Hansol laughed placing his hand on the wall by your head. It was then that you realized he had you pinned there... And that you were hardly breathing.
“I may have been born and raised in Korea but my mom has it so that I’m fluent in English,” Hansol assured. You snorted but didn’t say anything that would reveal that you were suddenly feeling a little nervous. “I can understand everything that you are saying perfectly clearly.”
You were surprised by the heat that was growing in your body, you could feel it coiling in the pit of your stomach, and spreading over your cheeks, and you could feel yourself growing slightly more uncomfortable with the underwear that you were wearing due to its growing... Wetness.
You swallowed hard, determined not to make your sudden state as evident as it was becoming to you. You weren’t easy by any sense of the term, you hardly ever got this turned on so fast by anybody at all. Much less someone that you didn’t really even know.
“Then I guess you’ll understand perfectly clearly when I tell you to leave me alone tonight,” you grumbled. You slipped from underneath his arm and cocked your hip, placing a hand on it defiantly.
“The bathroom is right down the hall, and if you need me, I’ll just be in the living room,” you stated. Hansol looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re just gonna leave me alone in your room?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. You hummed.
“Well, I’m just trusting that you are the kind of guy who will behave,” you called back. Hansol chuckled after that, a sound that you felt go right to your core.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking that.”
You weren’t sure what it was about him... About this situation, but your hormones were going crazy.
Maybe it was because you hadn’t been with your ex in such a long time. Maybe it was because you had been crying too much to masturbate. Whatever the reason, you were horny, and sadly it was undeniable.
You plopped down on the couch and were about to get comfortable when once again the doorbell rang. You sighed, and nearly smacked your face in utter frustration.
How had you forgotten about the pizza?
You got back to your feet and reluctantly opened the door, paying the pizza man for the pizza with a soft “Thank you”. You turned your back as the pizza man wandered down the sidewalk back towards his car. You shut the door with your foot, and resisted jumping in surprise when you saw that Hansol was standing at the end of the hall, hands empty of any food, and his shirt off.
Your eyes wandered down his chest and before you could catch yourself you noticed with some surprise that he actually had a six-pack your eyes shot right back up to his eyes, your face turning bright red.
“The pizza came,” you blurted. Then to try and hide how red your face was becoming you turned and began to walk towards the kitchen. “And put your shirt on. Do they not have shirts in Korea?”
You heard Hansol laughing behind you. He jogged a little bit to catch up to you while you were standing in the kitchen.
“What? You don’t think I look good?” He winked at you, an action that was so overexaggerated that it looked awkward, which was honestly a heaven sent. It made it so much easier for you to roll your eyes and grab a slice of the pizza you had ordered.
“I hope you like cheese,” you murmured as you took a bit. He took one of the slices and smiled.
“And here I thought you didn’t care about my feelings,” he teased.
You glared after him as he walked off a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth.
“I’m going to take a shower and then... I’ll be back for more later.”
He sent you a wink, and then turned to disappear into the bathroom. You sneered after him, not because you were so mad at him in general but... Mostly because you were mad at how badly you wanted him.
You didn’t generally want to fuck someone that you had just meant before- you could usually control your emotions better than this- but for some reason... All you wanted right now was for...
Your hand slid slowly down your side, dipping into your pajama pants. Your fingers lightly traced over the cloth of your underwear and you bite back a curse when you felt just how wet you were. This wasn’t going to just go away.
And, if Hansol really was taking a shower, maybe that meant that you had the time...
You glanced in Hansol’s direction noting that there was nothing to be heard from him, so without another grain of hesitation you slipped a finger into your body.
You felt your eyes close at the sudden pleasure and you reached your other hand into your underwear to fiddle with your clit as you slid your finger in and out of your body.
You knew that you didn’t have a lot of time before Hansol finished his shower, so you would have to work fast. Your legs spread and a soft moan left your lips as you began to move your finger more and more quickly.
You imagined it was Hansol there. He teased you for only using one finger and urged you to slide another finger into you: “Show me how badly you want me... You do want me, don’t you?” A whine started to leave your lips as you slid a second finger into you, making you bite down on your bottom lip to try and keep yourself silent.
You wondered what Hansol would say to you if he caught you holding back your moans... Wonder how he would touch you if he had the chance...
Your face burned red as you thought more and more about how Hansol would fuck you, only making your fingers move faster, pulling yourself closer and closer to one of the fastest orgasms you had ever been able to reach. You were just about to finally cum, small short quiet pants leaving your lips as you tried to hold back any sound too loud.
Just as you were about to finally hit your climax-
“Hey y/n, I have a question about your bathroom?”
Your fingers stilled immediately, and your eyes shot open. You looked around the living room quickly just to make sure that he was standing there and staring at you. You sighed in relief. You were still alone.
You pulled your hands out from between your legs annoyed by the interruption, and embarrassed that you had really been doing… That when Hansol was just in the room over.
“One second!” You called. You quickly rinsed your hands off in the kitchen sink and then rubbing your hands against your pants walked over to the bathroom. You peeked your head around the corner and cocked your head towards Hansol. “What’s u-”
Your words died in your throat.
On the bathroom counter sat a small shoe box- not normally a big deal had it not been for the fact that it was just the shoe box you hid your sex toys in. The worst part was that while one of Hansol’s hands was on the counter, the other one was held out plainly, in his hand was your shiny pink bullet vibrator.
Color rose to your cheeks and you rushed forward, going to snatch the vibrator away from him.
“Hey-”
But Hansol was too quick for you. He took you by your wrist and twisted you around so that your back was against the bathroom counter. A slow smirk crossed his lips as he stared at you, looking you up and down.
“You were touching yourself in the living room,” he stated pointedly. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words. You went to say more, to deny the accusation but before you could he continued to speak. “But the perfect way for you to feel satisfied is here in the bathroom.”
You weren’t sure why you were letting it get this far, but your nose scrunched unsurely as you stared at Hansol.
“You… You mean cause my toys are in here?” You mumbled shyly. Hansol chuckled, and the sound shot through your body like a bolt of lightning.
“Because I’m in here.”
Your heart thudded in your chest as you looked at the boy in front of you. You couldn’t believe what he was proposing.
“Unless of course… That isn’t what you want.”
As he spoke his fingers trailed down your sides and hooked on the edge of your elastic pajama pants. His fingers brushed your bare skin making you shiver, your fingers wrapping around his wrist hesitantly.
“Hansol,” you mumbled. He looked at you, his hands freezing. He wasn’t going to stop until you had given him the go. You almost weren’t sure what was going to leave your mouth, until finally you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please. I want you to touch me.”
Hansol’s fingers dipped into your pants, his fingers brushing past the soft material of your panties so that his cool fingers could slide between your folds. He didn’t waste even a second. He slipped a finger into your pussy, and then a second finger.
You gasped out in surprise, your hands reaching out so that you could grab on to something as your legs immediately spread for him. Hansol chuckled at the action, one of his hands reaching out to support you by holding you by your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, and it made a short moan rip from your lips.
Hansol hummed at the noise.
“You sound so pretty. Even prettier when you aren’t stifling those sounds,” he muttered. You felt your face heating up at his words, but you tried not to say anything about it that would expose your feelings too much.
Hansol didn’t mind your lack of a response either. He seemed perfectly satisfied just pushing his fingers in and out of you. You watched as his eyes trailed down your body, pausing briefly on your chest. He smiled.
“I think you’re wearing too much, he stated pointedly. “Let’s fix that.”
He grabbed the bottom hem of your pajama shirt with his free hand and began to ease it over your body. You were quick to grab the bottom of it.
“Hansol,” you mumbled softly. “I don’t know how necessary that really is…”
He laughed at your words.
“Bashful aren’t you?” He asked. “Surprising from someone who is so wet…”
You tried to hide your face in your hair, but it proved useless pretty quickly when you were embarrassing yourself just enough by rocking your hips against his hand when his thrusts began to slow down.
“You were pretty determined to dislike me when we first met weren’t you?” You opened your mouth to defend yourself but before you could Hansol rolled his eyes. “Don’t waste your breath. I know that you were desperate to dislike me. And yet, here you are, going to let me fuck you.”
You bite down hard on your bottom lip.
“Shut up,” you mumbled, with only just enough self-respect to not deny his words.
“You know what I think?” He asked you. He pulled his fingers from out of your body and chuckled a bit under his breath when he heard just how loud it sounded when his fingers slipped from your soaked folds. “I think that you are a bit spoiled.”
You couldn’t believe that you were actually hearing such words leave Hansol’s mouth.
“I’m not-”
Vernon snickered and pushed his fingers into your mouth. You were surprised the action, but the minute that you tasted your wetness, and saw how Hansol watched you carefully for your reaction, you couldn’t help but suck them entirely clean.
Once they were clean, he backed away and began to slide his pants down his legs.
“I think you are. I think that you’re a spoiled little brat who wants nothing more than to sleep with the next person who gets their fingers in you,” he murmured. A pout crossed your face and you looked across the room at him.
“You don’t have to be so cruel,” you mumbled, even though his words didn’t offend you at all. In fact, they just made you more embarrassed by how true his words were. He toed the rest of his way out of his clothes and gave his cock, one, two, quick strokes bringing it up to what you could only assume was it’s full length.
You didn’t have long to admire it- perfect mushroom tip, decorated with a veiny girth that just made his cock look longer- before Hansol was closing the distance between you two once again.
“Oh, it’s not meant to be cruel,” he replied. “I’m obsessed with it.”
He placed his hands loosely around your hips and lowered himself down, taking his time as he travelled down your body. He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, one just above and below your belly button, another one to your hip, and then his fingers came to a rest wrapped around your thighs.
“All I want to do is to give you exactly what you want,” he murmured. You could feel his warm breath tickle your clit and you whimpered, trying your best to close your legs so that he couldn’t do what you knew he was about to do- what you honestly, really wanted him to do.
He glanced up at you, quirking up his eyebrow at you.
“Spread your legs beautiful,” he encouraged softly. “I just want to spoil your needy little pussy.”
Your face blazed red but then Hansol tapped his thumb against your inner thigh and you were sliding your legs wide for him. He dipped his head a bit, shifting one of his hands so that he could slide his index fingers between your already slick folds.
You bit down on your lip to avoid making a sound as his finger began to make a mess of your pussy, your core burning as he teased you. His fingers would come close to your clit which ached at not having been touched yet, and then they would slide back down through your wetness, pressing a little harder when they had made it to your tight little hole, but never pushing into it.
For the first few minutes you thought you would be able to stand it, but eventually it became clear to you that you absolutely could not wait until he was done being memorized to how your fluids felt on his fingers.
You let a whine leave your lips and you bucked your hips against his fingers impatiently.
“Hansol, if you want to spoil me so badly, can you actually finger me or touch my clit or something,” you grumbled. He laughed his eyes glancing up at you innocently.
“Just waited for you to ask is all,” he stated pleasantly. Before you had the chance to call him a dumbass, his index finger was slowly making its way into you. You felt yourself deflate at the sudden sensation, unable to help but throw your head back against the wall as his breathing increased.
“No resistance,” he mumbled in awe. He pressed a second finger into you and moaned. “Oh god you’re tight as a virgin, and yet, your pussy is fitting my fingers perfectly.” You panted softly as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. His thrusts were infuriatingly slow, but his fingers reached so deep, and curled so perfectly inside of you that you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain.
He scissored his fingers in and out of your pussy nudging your thighs further apart every now and then and he stretched you out. He slid a third finger into you, and increased his speed just a little bit. It made you moan again, your hands trailing across your body pointlessly, needing some place to latch on but unable to really stop on a spot.
Hansol somehow noticed that action and it just made him groan again.
“Alright, I can’t help it anymore, I have to taste you again,” He murmured. “Your smell is utterly intoxicating.”
Before you could say anything about that, Hansol took one of your thighs and hitched it up over your shoulder. His other hand remained wrapped around your thigh as he ducked his head forward, his nose brushing against your clit lightly. You whined and he pulled his fingers from your pussy and looked up at you.
“First… Another taste,” he murmured. His fingers dipped into his mouth and he licked them clean of your liquids. “Oh, I was right, you taste incredible.”
He didn’t waste another second. He wrapped his wet fingers around your ass, and his lips wrapped around your wet pussy, his tongue diving into your heat. He moaned around you sloppily, his tongue darting out from within you every once in a while in order to like your folds clean.
When you had been with your last boyfriend, you two had fooled around at times. He was undeniable. He had been a horny fellow and had often been insistent on fooling around. With him you had always been sure to be safe, but all he ever wanted to do was fuck around, or get his dick sucked.
That meant you had literally never had your pussy eaten out before. You insisted that was why, you were moaning so loudly, your fingers curled tightly in Vernons hair as you bucked your hips wildly against him, desperate for some friction against your clit, desperate for him to stick his tongue deeper inside you.
Hansol seemed to feel that, to understand how truly desperate you were because before long he had pulled off of you entirely, a sigh leaving his soaked lips.
“As much as I want to continue tasting you,” he mumbled. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and got back to his feet, his fingers intertwining in your hair. He pulled you sharply towards him, making you gasp out in surprise and stumbled forward against his chest.
Damn… When had your legs become so weak?
“Want to taste yourself?” Before you could answer his lips were pressed gently against yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth after only a moment. You had to admit you were practically useless in participating in the kiss, but it didn’t seem like Hansol minded.
He pulled away, panting softly for just a moment as he stared at you.
“Normally I’d suggest you suck my dick, if nothing else to just get it wet but… God I can’t wait to bury myself inside you and you are already so wet it probably won’t even matter.”
He took you by the hips and leaned forward again capturing you in another kiss. You could feel yourself losing your mind as his entire essence washed over you… How could one man kiss so well? How could one man’s touch be so satisfying? How could just a kiss turn you on so much?
“Jump,” Hansol mumbled against your lips before you could find any answers to your questions and you immediately obeyed, wrapping your legs around Hansol’s waist as he caught you in his arms, his hands settling on your ass to support you. You whined against him, gripping him a little tighter as he carried you out of the bathroom. His lips never left your as he dropped you onto the couch.
“Goona-“ He kissed you. “Fuck-“ Another kiss. “You-“ His teeth nibbled at the bottom of your lip distractedly as he slid off his button-up. “Now, okay?”
He didn’t wait for your answer. He nudged your legs apart and smiled.
“You ready to welcome me like a proper little girl would?” He asked you.
“Teasing isn’t your strong point Sol,” you replied pointedly. “But you sure are welcome to-”
Before you could finish your words, Hansol had tightly grabbed your sides, lined his cock up with your entrance and shoved himself deep into you.
You threw your head back in pleasure, unable to help the deep moan that left your lips. Hansol grunted at the sound, his head falling to your neck as he bottomed out inside of you. You tried not to sound to shameless as your legs wrapped around his waist eagerly, drawing him even deeper inside of you. He moaned too, a sound that only made you want him to fuck you even more...
You wiggled your hips against him and wrapped your arms around Hansol’s body.
“H-Hansol, aren’t you gonna move?” You asked him softly, trying not to sound too desperate. He however saw right through the charade. He laughed at your desperation and peeled back just to look down at you, his hands wandering your body.
“You want what now?” He asked you. “You want me to move?” You locked him into a sharp glare.
“Hansol I don’t beg,” you grumbled softly. He laughed again, and slowly began to move his hips. You thought he was finally done playing games but it was only when his tip slipped out of you that you realized that wasn’t what he was doing.
He smacked his hard cock against your pussy lips a few times and hummed.
“What was that?” He asked you. “You don’t want me to fuck you?”
You rocked your hips against him, desperate for any sort of pressure on your clit as you waited for him to keep touching you. Still he didn’t slide back into you. He just smiled down at you.
“Are you really that desperate for someone to fuck you?” He teased. “So horny that you would grind your hips down on me, but not beg for my cock?”
You groaned. Pride forgotten the minute you realized that he wasn’t going to fuck you until you just begged for him.
“Please Hansol?” You tried out. “Please, just... Fuck just fuck me okay? I just want your cock-”
He didn’t even give you a chance to finish. He shoved his cock back deep inside of you once again, not giving you a moment to even finish your words.
You cried out, your arms falling back across his body as he slid into you.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he mumbled. He began to snap his hips in and out of you, his thrusts deliberate and slow, but so hard that it made you whine out in pleasure.
“Oh god, you feel incredible Hansol,” you exclaimed. He smiled at your words, grunting as he continued to fuck you deeply.
“I should be saying that to you. Your pussy is so tight, I could almost mistake you as a virgin,” he commented.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mumbled. “I wouldn’t dare give my virginity to the likes of-”
Before you could finish your statement, Hansol thrust deep into you once again, laughing at how loudly you moaned.
“I don’t know why you are trying so hard to pretend like you’re decent,” he murmured. “After all, I’m cock deep inside of you baby.”
He pulled his hips back and then snapped his hips back inside of you once again, but still you bit down on your lip, more determined then ever to keep from letting any noise slip from you.
Hansol raised his eyebrows at that, and pushed his hips into you again, picking up his pace ever so slightly. His cock hit deep inside of you, making you so utterly desperate and needy for Hansol that you could barely stand it. But still you were able to keep yourself contained.
You rose your hand up to your mouth, covering it with the back of your hand.
God you wanted him to fuck you harder even more badly, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing how horny he had made you. You had an image after all, one you intended to hold for at least a ni-
“Well if you’re going to play the game this way, I’ll just stoop to your level,” Hansol murmured. You heard a soft buzzing fill the air, and before you could register what the noise was, a cold object was placed to your clit, and a shot of pleasure ran through your body.
“Oh my god,” you blurted out, but Hansol just chuckled.
“You can just call me Hansol.”
And then, before you could question when he had the time to grab your vibrator, he was fucking you again. His thrusts were faster, deeper and his pace was absolutely relentless on your sweetspot.
You reached up blindly, your vow to remain silent completely forgotten as moans spilled from your lips, borderline hiccupping every time Hansol’s cock twitched inside of you. You entirely forgot about acting properly, you were instead lost in the sensation of the vibrators sensations on your clit, and the way you bounced on his cock, your back brushing against the fabric of the sofa that you had literally been sitting on with your mother not that long ago.
God you couldn’t even imagine what literally anyone would say if they found out that you were letting Hansol fuck you right now. You could practically feel the veins of his cock brushing against your pussy walls as he fucked you. You had no protection at all from him, and yet…
“Hansol,” you managed to slur out in a whine. He didn’t respond to you, just pressed the vibrator down harder on your clit. “H-Hansol, pl-please I-”
“What?” Hansol asked and god you nearly came at the gruff sound of his voice. Your fingers dug into his back and you closed your eyes in blind pleasure.
“Hansol, I’m s-so-” He increased the vibrations on the vibrator and grinned down at you. That innocent boy that you had welcomed at the door entirely forgotten.
“Cum for me,” he murmured.
And before you even knew it you were cumming on Hansol’s cock. You tried to buck your hips against him, but you were unable to as he pinned your hips down with his hand, pressing you down in the couch cushions as you screamed.
Hansol leaned down, his lips pressing against yours as you came, swallowing your moans and screams as your body quacked under him. He pulled away from you, his body shaking as he thrusted deep inside of you.
“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. “Can I cum insi-”
Before he could finish you spent the remainder of your energy hooking your legs around Hansol’s waist, raising your hand to run your fingers through the end strands of his hair.
“Please.”
Hansol unloaded his cum into you, his cock twitching as he did so. You felt him bury his face into the crook of your neck and just the feeling of the boy reaching such uncopiable pleasure that he was panting into your skin made another wave of pleasure run right through you.
“Oh my god,” you mumbled, your chest heaving up and down as you felt Hansol collapse beside you. “I can’t believe I just fucked you on Christmas.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“Is that the customary way to celebrate the holiday’s?” Hansol joked, his body still heaving from the heavy breathes that he was taking. You snorted at his brazen words and rolled over, slapping Hansol’s chest.
“God, shut up you know it isn’t.”
You hesitated after a moment then looked back over at him.
“Although, I mean… We could always start our own traditions?” You suggested. Without waiting for a response, you lifted yourself back up onto his body, pressing kisses down his neck and across the expanse of his chest.
Hansol’s response came in the form of him squeezing your hips.
“Oh, that sounds like the perfect idea.”
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Clippings A Loki One Shot
A year or so ago I started reading Sucker’s Luck, the brilliant story by @wrathkitty, and we were messaging about Loki pranking the Avengers with newspaper and magazine articles. I always had it in the back of my mind that I wanted to do something with it, so this is the result of that! Just some silly fun!
Loki/Reader
Rated T - Kissing, flirting, silliness, fluff, obnoxious Loki, bored Loki
Summary:  You are the head of PR for the Avengers. Normally you love your job, but a series of pranks has you scrambling to recover. At last it occurs to you who the culprit must be - a certain God of Mischief living just a few flights down.
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It had started simply enough. Tony had stumbled into his office one morning in Stark Tower, hung over (naturally) and grumpy as hell (as goes without saying). He banged into the corner of his desk, cursing the piece of furniture for existing, and an avalanche of treacherously stacked mail flurried down around him.
He hadn't looked at any of it for over three weeks. He and Pepper were "on a break" and she was working exclusively from the California office. As a result, nothing was where it was supposed to be. It was unfortunate, but you had told the temp assigned to his mail that it was better that way. Should she touch or misplace the wrong thing, it would be far worse than if she simply let it lie where it came in. People knew well enough to direct the important things to his department heads, including yourself in public relations.
As he stared sourly at the pile of paper littering his floor, Tony's eyes were drawn to a copy of Time Magazine. There on the cover, in bright red and gold, was his picture in his suit, face plate open to reveal his handsome mug. The banner read "(IRON)Man of the Year!"
Or at any rate that was what it was supposed to say. You had spoken at length to the publisher to ensure that it was the banner. Unfortunately, on closer examination that made his head pound as though a certain Thunder God was using it for hammer practice, the words had been altered to read "(IDIOT)Man of the Year!" In addition to the change in text, devil horns had been inked onto his helmet, a long tail was curling out from behind him, complete with pointed end, and he held a pitchfork in his hand. For a final insult, the artist had blacked out three of his teeth.
Half an hour later, he had stormed into your office a few floors below.
"Alright," he said, slapping the offending magazine down on your desk as you quickly hung up your call and gave him your attention. "I can take a joke. So one of my subordinates wanted to be clever, did they? I suppose I might have said or done something in the past to have deserved it."
"Oh dear," you tried not to laugh as you stared at the cover. "Do you know who it was?"
"No, I don't," he growled, throwing another copy with the same alterations onto your work space, "because they are All. Like. This!"
One by one he slammed a stack of magazines in front of you, each one displaying the altered text and image of him.
"I examined it, and it seems to be the original ink, not an alteration after printing," he ground out. "I assume, of course, that this was not the copy you approved? Because if it was, I am grossly overpaying you."  
"It is not what I agreed to," you hastened to assure him. "Maybe it was a saboteur on the print floor. Someone from Hammer Tech maybe? Or, not to get all personal here, maybe an ex-girlfriend?"
"I don't know," he snapped, glaring at the desiccated image. "All I know is I want them pulled. All of them. Now!"
"Of course," you agreed at once.
It was not as easy as you might have hoped. It seemed every copy had been printed with the alteration. Worse than that, there were posters and billboards all over New York where Tony could see them, as well as in other cities, and all had somehow been created with the offensive graphic. It was a nightmare getting them pulled, and by the time you did the television media had already picked up on them.
A week later, it was Steve and Bucky's turn. You knew something was up when you entered the Avenger's Tower and saw the lobby festooned with hundreds of bouquets of flowers. Curious about the preponderance of blossoms, you had plucked a card from one and choked back your laughter as you read.
"To Steve and Bucky," it said in a loopy script, "congratulations on making it official. You are a lovely couple."
Oh dear, you thought. This could not be good.
When you reached your office, your assistant was waiting for you, a newspaper in her hand.
"Um, boss," she said with a worried tone of voice, "have your looked at the Times today?"
"No," you felt a wave of dread flow over you. "Why?"
"I put a copy on your desk," she said instead of answering directly.
Warily, you picked up the paper open to the Wedding Section of the Weekend Times. There, right in the center of the page above the fold, was a picture of Captain America and his friend The Winter Soldier. Underneath the article read:
"Steve Rogers And James (Bucky) Barnes are delighted to announce their engagement. The two have been secretly a couple since before the invention of the color television, but decided to finally go public. Says Rogers, 'I got tired of him trying to keep his options open. If he wants all this, he better put a ring on it!' A date has yet to be set, but the couple are hoping for a June wedding. In lieu of gifts, please make donations to your local AARP."
The fact that a church had been booked and a florist and caterer engaged made it even harder to unravel all of the headaches that went with that particular prank. Steve was mortified by the announcement, insisting to anyone who would listen that he was more than happy with the status of his relationship with his oldest friend. Oddly, Bucky didn't seem particularly bothered by it, but did give Steve some searching looks after word of the article made its way around the building.
You received the Thor article yourself, two weeks later. You had been lulled into a state of false security as things calmed down in Avenger's world. You should have known better. An envelope addressed to the public relations depart had of course ended up on your desk. Inside, a clipping from page 6 was stuck inside a note card. Looking at the card, you found an elegant, bold hand had written "For Thor" on the card.
The article was not good. It appeared that Dr. Jane Foster had been seen out and about in London with a wealthy, outrageously good looking scientist. The two looked quite close as they sat sipping cocktails under the stars in the picture, her hand clasped in his. A red marker had been used to draw a large heart around the image, and in the margins of the article were written such commentary as "Oh dear, is she cheating?", "Good for her!", "Looks like someone is trading up!" and, most cuttingly, "Is someone's hammer bigger than a certain God's? Inquiring minds want to know!"
"Oh, good God!" you groaned, lowering your head to the desk, dreading the thought of sharing the offensive paper with Thor. Briefly, you thought of hiding it from the blond Asgardian, but you thought better of it. Though you had no way of knowing for sure, you would bet money that, just as with the Time Magazine cover, every copy of the story was similarly compromised. Someone was bound to see it and say something to Thor. As director of the Avenger's public relations, it was best to come from you.
It just made no sense! Tony you could understand. You loved the man, but even he had to admit that he had made his share of enemies in his life. Hell, half of the Avenger's work seemed to be neutralizing people that he had offended at one time or another to the extent of turning them into super villains! Steve, Bucky, and Thor, however, were all likeable, inoffensive men. Who could possibly want to make mischief for any of them?
Mischief. Your head shot up and your eyes narrowed. It couldn't be. Could it? The more you thought about it, one name screamed itself into your brain, to the point where you couldn't understand why you hadn't thought of it before. It was so bloody obvious!
With grim determination you rose from your desk and tromped your way to the elevator, punching in one of the residential floors when it arrived. The call, it seemed, was coming from inside the house.
When you got to the door, you knocked hard and tapped your toe impatiently as you waited for a response. You knew he was there, of course. He was not allowed to go anywhere else, at least not unless escorted by his brother, and you knew for a fact that Thor was off world at the moment. Just when you were considering going to get reinforcements, a lazy, bored sounding voice called from within, inviting you to come in.
Bracing yourself for what was sure to be a confrontation, you opened the door and let yourself into the rooms of Loki, prince of Asgard and "guest" of SHIELD. If guest could be used to describe a God held against their will in an impregnable tower containing numerous enhanced individuals intent on seeing that he stayed where they could keep a constant eye on him.
The room was decorated in golds and greens, all lush and comfortable looking. Bookshelves lined the walls, and additional stacks of books littered the floor and table. Loki himself lay on a couch on the far side of the room, one arm behind his head, the other held a large volume that he seemed completely engrossed in. He did not so much as look in your direction as you stood on the door step, unsure how to begin.
"If you're looking for Thor," he said in a lazy drawl, not bothering to look up, "you might try next door."
"Thor is off world and you know it," you snapped, fighting down your agitation.
No one in your life had ever made you as anxious al Loki did on a good day. The man... the God was a public relations nightmare! He was the living definition of "loose canon", libel to say or do anything without warning. You supposed it came with his job description, but it did not make your life any easier. The fact that he was stupidly handsome and cuttingly witty just insured that any chance the press got to cover him was leaped at.
"I said you could try, I didn't say you would find him," Loki smirked, still looking at his book. He read for a few more moments before seeming to come to a stopping place, marking it with a bookmark, and finally, finally raising his eyes to you. "Ah, director! How nice of you to visit!"
"This isn't a social call, Loki," you said with very little grace.
"Well, that is a shame," he purred, sitting up and smoothing out his soft green tunic that veed to show just a teasing glimpse of his chest. "I get so few visitors, and those I do are not nearly so pleasing to converse with, or to look at for that matter."
You felt your eyes narrow as you stared at him, trying to tell if he was mocking you or not. You knew that he could lie as easily as breath, but you could not suppress the small, niggling hope that he meant it. It galled you to know end, but you could not quite rid yourself of an asinine crush on the God. Pulling yourself together, you tried to recover your initial irritation.
"The pranks, Loki," you told him in a severe voice, "they end. Now."
"What pranks?" he asked innocently, one eyebrow arching.
"You know damn well what pranks, Loki! The Time Magazine cover. The wedding announcement. And now the article with Dr. Foster."
"Ooh, what has my brother's favorite mortal done now?" he asked, seeming for all the world like he was  legitimately curious.
"So you are saying you are not responsible for altering the articles?" you demanded.
"Director, how on this blasted realm would I be responsible for anything?" he asked reasonably. "I am confined by this infernal bracelet on my ankle to this suite of rooms, only allowed out when my hulking mass of a brother chooses to take pity on me."
"You have magic," you said tentatively.
"Yes, once again confined by this device they force me to wear. I don't know why you need me to tell you this, Director. You yourself spoke most eloquently on the television about me. What was the quote now? Let me see...'We owe Prince Loki an apology. Far from being the mastermind behind the Attack on New York, he did everything in his considerable powers to prevent it. Were it not for his double agent machinations, the loss of life would be catastrophic. He is, in my eyes, a hero. None the less, the Asgardian Prince, realizing that tensions are running high in the aftermath of the incident, has graciously agreed to certain precautions, including a device to curtail his magic for the duration of his stay.'"
It was word for word the statement you had made on behalf of the Avengers and SHIELD months ago. That fact that Loki remembered it, and had altered his voice somehow to mimic your cadence and tone, rendered you momentarily speechless. As you struggled for response, a wicked grin spread across his face.
"I did so love to hear you defending me that way, my dear. Tell me, do you really consider me a hero?" his voice was smooth as honey as he rose from the couch and moved toward you, unconscious grace in his every movement.
"It is my job to put a good spin on things," you said, sounding lame to your own ears.
"So, then you don't find me gracious? Or even just a touch heroic?" he purred, now very much intruding on your personal space. "You don't think I have considerable powers?"
"Of course you have powers," you gulped, feeling your pulse race as he leaned his forearm on the wall next to your head. "It's why I am convinced that you altered those articles."
"Ah yes, the articles," he said as though he had forgotten all about them, as he grinned down at you from far too close.
"Yes. The articles. It's why I am here," you reminded both of you, wondering how to describe the smell that surrounded him other than delicious.
"If that is the case, then why ever would I stop? If I were to be the one creating them. You presence here in my rooms is the most enjoyment I've had in months."
"Why?" you blurted out, hating yourself the moment the word left your lips.
"I like you," he said simply. "You don't shy away from me when I so much as look at you. You don't moralize at me. You don't pity me."
"Pity you?" your voice squeaked upward. "You're a gorgeous, princely god with super powers! In what universe would you be pitied?"
"I am a captive, gorgeous, princely god," he corrected, eyes sparkling as he held yours. "One hated by the Midgardians, cast out by both birth and adopted parents, suffered at best by my host jailers. Many might pity me. But not you. You see me as something else."
"I see you as a pr nightmare!" you grumbled, unable to look away from him. "The amount of chaos you cause for my office with your little jokes is more than even Stark, and I didn't think that was possible."
"Oh, I am sorry," he said, sounding anything but. "You could have avoided it, you know."
"How?" you demanded, swallowing as he leaned in even more.
"By coming to visit sooner. I thought I was going to have to get Banner's friend accepted to the Bronx Zoo before you finally showed up here."
"You did this on purpose?" you gasped. "To see me?"
"I'm not saying I did do it," he hedged, eyes glittering with amusement, "but if I did, that would certainly be one of two very good reasons to do so."
"And the other?" you asked, just to have something to say while your mind processed the information.
"It was funny," he laughed, breath ghosting across your neck and making you shiver.
Against your will, you suddenly laughed as well. The picture of Tony, the announcement for Steve and Bucky, the comments on Jane and Thor, now that you weren't in the throes of putting out the fires they had caused, you could see clearly the hilarity of his silly pranks. It felt good to let down your professional demeanor and giggle like a teenager over the outrage they had caused.
"Did the jests truly make your job too difficult," he asked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear and making your mouth go dry.
"I handled it," you said, voice distressingly unstable.
"I have no doubt. You are good at your job. I watch you on the box whenever you appear before the moronic press. You make even my brother sound as though he knows what he is doing."
"Thor is sweet," you protested weakly.
"Thor is an idiot," he said, though not without a trace of affection. "You are not. I find it a rare treat."
"Thank you," your voice was little more than a whisper.
"If the pranks, as you called them, were to stop," he said, eyes lowering to look at your lips, "and you had more free time on your hands, do you think you might spend so of it with me? Say, for dinner?"
"I... I could probably manage that," you said. "If you would like."
"I would very much like," he murmured. "May I, Director?"
Not needing him to clarify, you gave a small nod of your head. As soon as that brief sign of consent had been given, Loki lowered his lips to yours in a kiss that was gentle and tentative, not at all what you had been expecting. He pulled back after a few moments, the taste of his lips lingering against yours, and you gazed up at him with glazed eyes.
"Tonight then?" you asked, not caring if you sounded desperate.
"Tonight would be fine," he smiled at you, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. "I will look forward to it greatly.
"I should get back to work then," you sighed, not wanting to leave but knowing you had a deadline. "There's an interview on now that I need to monitor."
"Very well," Loki sounded resigned, but still walked you gallantly the two feet to the door. "I shall see you later then."
You smiled goofily at him, not believing you had a date with the god of mischief, when suddenly Loki's eyes snapped up to the television in the corner.
"The interview," Loki said, improbably appearing just behind you. "It is with Director Fury?"
"Yes. Why?"
Wordlessly Loki snapped his fingers and the television began playing. On the screen, a buttoned down news anchor was doing his best not to break as Nick Fury expounded on the benefits of the Avengers Initiative. It would have been an intimidating speech were it not for the message flashing in bright green lights across his eyepatch. "I'm Nick Fury, Bitch!" was the least obscene of the bunch. Slowly you closed your eyes and shook your head.
"Perhaps we should move dinner until tomorrow," he said with evident disappointment.
"Is this all" you asked, feeling impending doom.
"I promise," his voice was warring between amusement and chastisement. "I had forgotten about this one until now. I mean, if I was responsible."
"Dinner better be damn good," you sighed.
"I promise you, pet," he said, smiling smugly, "dinner will be worth it."
"In that case," you bit your bottom lip. "I will go clean up this mess and see you tomorrow."
Loki raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, letting his tongue just ever so slightly graze against your skin. It was enough to set you tingling to your toes.
"I live in anticipation," he told you.
"Loki," you said, smiling sweetly.
"Yes, darling?"
"Remember, I control the press. You do something like this again, I will make sure that everyone knows how devoted you are to Thor, and what a soft, sentimental soul you have."
"You wouldn't!" he gasped, horrified.
"Try me Mischief," you smiled, feeling at last a bit more like yourself.
"Oh, I knew I was right about you," he smiled in admiration. "My dear, we are going to have so much fun."
Turning slowly, you sauntered to the elevator. All in all, it had been a good day.
@arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @hopelessromanticspoonie @hiddlesholic  @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @redfoxwritesstuff @shiningloki @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @yespolkadotkitty @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy​
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gamergirluprising · 4 years
Text
(WARNING SENSITIVE INFO WILL BE DISCUSSED OR GIVEN. IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE INFO REGARDING SELF-HARM OR BULLYING I’D ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ ON. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED)
Hello, everyone, I’d like to share somethings that have urked me and outright surprise me when getting deeper and deeper into this whole shebang cause honestly, this is too much to NOT notice. If you're wondering what I am talking about I am referring to all the stuff I found out about Viv and the fact that she never truly seemed sorry for what she's done to said people based on what I have found out and what she's said in recent years.
Now you all may say "G, she said she's sorry and that's that. Don't bring up things that happened years ago or have been resolved." and look, man, I'd leave it alone if it was CLEAR that she was truly a person of her word, wasn't a hypocrite, and didn't cause 3 people to be suicidal and cause/know of witchhunts that she KNOWS happened and/or wanted to happen. You guys can like her all you want and defend her, but be sure they are good defenses, understand WHERE I am coming from, and be mindful of what I am saying. Don't just ignore everything she did just cause you THINK she's super nice or because she's your idol.
I will also emphasize that I wish for NO ONE to send any unnecessary hate or anything of the like to Viv. You don't stoop to someone else's level just cause they did some bad crap. I just wanted to say any of this, loud and clear, cause its straight facts that shouldn't be buried just cause she wants to hold onto her image the best she can. That isn't at all fair to those victims who have been wronged and had their names tainted over her destructive and mean-spirited hypocritical behavior. AGAIN DO NOT ATTACK VIV AND DON'T THINK ME CALLING HER OUT IS A REASON TO HATE HER. We can be better than her in terms of handling things. Do not also think me calling her out shouldn't have been done JUST CAUSE you don't wanna hear it or not. If you don't wanna see it, you don't have to read it.
with that being said, LET'S DISSECT.
 S T A R V A D E R
First I have to start off relaying to you guys what Starvader had stated at the beginning of the document so you'll get a jist of why she even spoke up in the first place. 
 "I type this document with no malicious intent only my personal thoughts on how I feel recently about the situation since its been on my mind well every day now since 2013. At least five years I’ve had thoughts below as to my personal experience of meeting an ex idol and why sometimes meeting your idol isn’t the best approach. For me, that ex idol is Vivienne Medrano creator of Zoophobia and Hazbin Hotel. I’m not aiming to defame this creator nor do I think people should stop liking their work or stop supporting them. If you like their work there is nothing wrong with that but I will refuse to silence myself any longer due to how much this rarely leaves my mind and tends to come up. This has been a situation swept under the rug and most would probably state ‘ well why are you bringing all this up now it was so and so years ago you guys squashed this etc etc “ that being the case, sorry doesn’t fix emotional trauma that comes up frequently during depressive episodes and comments do tend to stick to people in a certain way. Apology or not, words have a heavy weight to them."
I put this here even though I will be putting a link to her doc because people will most likely not read or press the link and just act as if Starvader wanted blood. No, she stated her mind and was clear when saying she wanted no harm done to Viv.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRX8VEoTS7Xot7D9u5i7MMEgtT44mNEtgpl4FY7QDZCA7ZY2j-CTJF7Uw_JwSJ6WUQNVvaTQv60Igte/pub
In this link It tells anyone who comes across it what she and some others mentioned here had to go through when being compared by Viv, wanting to do what's right and still being "called out" and bullied while getting hate sent to them, and having been told how her dreams would never ever be achieved and that she should practically give up, how she put friends against one another, etc. It showcases screenshots of these examples. 
It all began with the accusation of art theft. The very thing she played the victim in with someone else. I'm sure some of you old-time fans of Viv know who this person was and are aware of the beef they had with one another. After reading Starvader's Doc, I want you to look at the post Vivziepop made to defame someone known as 
  D O L L C R E E P
This may be a throwback to you and you all may have thought this person was abusive. I won't say that they did absolutely nothing wrong since they themselves have said they did some wrong in the situation, but I will say that one was more of a problem starter than the other. 
http://web.archive.org/web/20151008172207/http://enoughisenough-dollcreep.tumblr.com/post/125101370456/my-experience-with-dollcreep
Notice in this post that the very things she did to Starvader she said DollCreep did to her and how she tries and paint DollCreep as this SEVERELY abusive person. Hell even in Starvader's document you'll see that DollCreep told SV that he talked with Viv about the whole thing regarding SV and Viv and she apparently listened at the time. Not to mention that the screenshots Viv put in that post were either take(very possibly) taken out of context or not even bad to begin with (though his reply about the face thing was odd and shouldn't have been addressed b but due to circumstances, I think that's why he was so cautious). I don't know DC like that, but this kinda makes me feel as though he wasn't a bad person Viv makes him out to be and more her trying to destroy his image ENTIRELY for her benefit, cause till this very day she still calls him an abuser and someone she doesn't want to meet again. 
if you continue on into the post she made, you'll see that she has made characters, EERILY SIMILAR to DC's, some WAY MORE than others. SV was willing to change some of the designs and even wanted to stop, Viv, however, seemed to take great offense over such an accusation and took to social media to make her frustrations known. SV kept this hidden from 2013 to 2018.
Oh btw, if you read the doc you'll see that SV wanted to commit suicide. DC actually attempted it. The cyberbullying ran that deep and it ANGERS me.
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here’s what someone who saw the sitch had to say.
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https://web.archive.org/web/20170619163024/http://dcs-personal-blog.tumblr.com/
can find everything here regarding what DC said about the sitch. You guys DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HURT THIS PERSON. It actually pisses me off that people even attacked DC and blindly believed Viv. It’s Johnny Depp’s situation all freaking over again
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Here’s the picture of Viv saying that he was abusive, completely ignoring her behavior, and knowing hate would be sent to DC. Again won’t say that DC was completely innocent but damn man, was this necessary? DC even said that they talked it out and everything 
https://vivziepop.tumblr.com/post/179705403534/im-only-going-to-say-this-once
Don’t even get me started on the whole character credit fiasco that Viv refused to properly fix.
https://krieg-was-taken.tumblr.com/post/101438542866/dollcreep-kibadoglover45-dollcreep-even
Look at this as well.
https://web.archive.org/web/20200104224648/https://tyacutie123.tumblr.com/post/125800399071/beware-of-abusive-artist
it mentions SV again, but it also brings into light a parody character meant to mock DC during all of this drama. 
https://killapunk.tumblr.com/post/125896144245/dcs-personal-blog-enoughisenough-dollcreep/amp
DollCreep does the same thing back and is treated like the enemy. Hypocrisy at its finest.
now, most of you guys will be saying that this all happened in the past. It’s over, some will say, She’s changed (some of you may even say that these people deserve it. Yes people actually have said stuff like this to me or others) but here’s the problem, She still pulls crap like this to ruin people or to make others feel stupid. Just last year she was laughing with JaneGumball (who APPARENTLY made up with the victim) saying that she deserves it for being rude when the girl just said her opinion and was still a fan of Viv at the time, meaning she didn’t even mean to hurt Viv’s feelings and, hear me out, even if she did WHY FIND HER CYBERBULLYING FUNNY AND JUSTIFIED OVER AN OPINION? What sort of logic is that? That’s GREATLY immature and unnecessary, especially for someone her age (She’s 27 or 28 guys while the victim was 15, come on man!)
 and I’m sure some of you know what happened with the person who made a meme regarding HH and other animated cartoons.
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She’s VERY MUCH AWARE THAT THEY WERE ATTACKED....and this is how she responds....wow O K A Y.
So no, she didn’t actually change because she most likely didn’t think she had to. People kept supporting her thus making her believe that what she did was correct. Oh and Faust is practically Viv as well. (As seen by the SV doc and this tweet thread)
https://twitter.com/melonbea/status/1206994000563068930?s=19
Hell Viv seemed to ignore this too, as well as a lot of shipping drama if it involves a specific ship, but I won’t delve too deep into that subject since I am not very aware of the things that go down in that side of the fandom. 
and there’s this 
https://afraidofmonsters-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/188662798256/so-lets-talk-about-this-blog-the-fandom-and-viv
and this
https://historia-kq.tumblr.com/post/190882421127
I’d advise you guys to hear these things out. 
Oh and Viv is the type to be a Hypocrite regularly,
https://twitter.com/VivziePop/status/613097846603026433?s=19
I could send you all the screenshots of her tweets but that should be another post on its own cause THERE IS A LOT. Like her Cancel Culture tweet, that tweet where she said, and I quote, “The hypocrisy is strong” back in 2014, November 29th. That time she had a thread of tweets saying, and I quote “never let someone dictate your value as an artist! Never seek the approval of someone else and conform to what they say you should do!” Despite doing this to StarVader.
If you guys want screenshots I can either personally DM or make a post showing her hypocrisy. Cause honestly this is rather, dare I say it, TOXIC. She’s manipulated people and has used them when they don’t abide by her rules or make a mistake that could have been resolved privately, she attacks and it’s saddening. I am TIRED of people getting hurt by her and I am tired of her abusing her power. If she wants to change I am COMPLETELY DOWN for that, but change starts when you want it. You can’t say sorry and expect people not to see past the lies or see that you obviously didn’t change. Sorry should mean what it means, feeling regret or penitence, but if you don’t at all exhibit these things then how are we supposed to believe that you are at all sorry for anything you’ve done currently AND in the past? I mean damn dude did you guys even know what happened to the cosplayer that Viv was mad about?
https://boricua-moonbakery.tumblr.com/post/616407364553310208
Now look, if you like Viv’s content, that’s your choice. I for one very much do like some fan content that i’ve stumbled onto and find some very creative and my cup of tea and while I’m not a huge fan of HH I still very much find the premise very creative. What I do if a creator of something is majorly sketch or strange I simply seperateb the content from the creator. I simply wanted to point out things many peeps don’t know about and any person who is a fan of Viv, I hope you’d at least understand WHY I am at all saying anything I am saying. I want there to be justice but I want things to be fair. I don’t want Viv to get hurt, but I want her to actually learn from her mistakes. I am not here to discourage you from anything, it’s your choice if you choose to stay and I will not judge you for it. I am a girl who SIMPLY wants people to be more aware of who exactly Vivienne Medrano is. She’s mistreated both fans of HH and ZP and it boggles me.
If you guys want more info, like her tweets that I mentioned, just message me.
      END OF DISSECTION
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kassofchaos · 3 years
Text
Getting the Facts Straight
So, after what seems to have been a super long hiatus, I'm back with another chapter of the fic! Hope the wait wasn't unbearable, ya'll.
The Batcave. Perhaps it’s a childish name for a 31-year old billionaire to adopt for his alter-ego’s base of operations and armory, but there’s no denying it sounds cool. To the younger, more impressionable guest, the moniker certainly succeeds in its wow factor, not to mention the awe of finding himself there.
Batman doesn’t have many guests down here. It’s usually just him and Alfred, maybe the occasional criminal; but never someone like Ben. “Why do you have a dinosaur up here?” Speak of the devil.
Batman turns to face his guest, looking to see the green-vested lad standing next to one of the giant cave’s many attractions: a life-size model of a Tyrannosaur. Granted, a very old depiction.
“I came across it during an old mission. Decided to keep it.” He responds. Easy, succinct.
“It isn’t even accurate, how old is this thing?”
“I don’t know. These things don’t come with information plaques.”
A silence wafts over them both. Even for just that second, the silence is palpable.
“Man, hate that.” Ben responds. “I get that it’s just more work, but I can’t ever see something like this as finished without a plaque like that, y’know?”
Another pause, this one slightly longer than the last. Batman sighs; so this is the kind of person he’s let in. Could be worse.
“We can mess around with my decorations later. Tell me about the watch.”
“What, this old thing? Had it since I was ten.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“By now? Eeehh, twelve, maybe thirteen years? I got it late into my tenth, so I can’t know for certain. I don’t just have the exact date on me, right-”
“Explain what it does.” Batman’s order cuts through Ben’s rant before it could even begin. Ben gulps; he’s really dealing with THE BATMAN here.
“Well…” He lets out a half-hearted chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Where do you want me to start?”
“You know where I want you to start.”
Ben takes a step back, looking away for just a second, shrinking at even the slightest hint of intimidation.
“Well… this-” He puts up his left arm, letting the light of the Batcave fall upon the device attached to his wrist, its green-and-black dial gleaming with the bright. “-is the Omnitrix. I don’t know everything about it myself, either, but I know how to use it, and I’ve been able to clue together some information on it after so long.”
Batman listens on, a notepad in his hands, ready to jot down anything important.
“From what I’ve gathered, this is alien technology. Within it are the samples of ten different alien species. I can choose which one I want to transform into by-” To demonstrate, he taps a small button on the device’s side facing him, watching the dial rise just slightly, projecting a holographic black silhouette of a four-armed humanoid. Ben grabs onto the dial’s side and turns it left, watching as the silhouette is replaced with another, this one of a shorter creature resembling a crab. “-turning the dial. When I press it down, then.. I suspect you can guess from there.”
“Only ten?” Batman asks amidst note-taking.
“Ten.” Ben nods. “An arsenal that compliments itself well. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or not, but the choice of aliens on the watch feels planned, for lack of a better word. Intelligently designed, in a sense.”
“Lead me through each one.”
“I don’t know that I want to .” Ben finally interjects. “Sorry if that’s rude, sir, but… I’m not just going to tell you all of my strengths and weaknesses.”
Batman smiles. “There it is.” Batman waves Ben forward, leading him further. Down a set of stairs, to face a ginormous onslaught of computer monitors of varying sizes, all heralding a lengthy desk and a couple of simple revolving chairs. “I think I know why you’re here.”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
Batman nods, turning to type up on the keyboard, facing the smallest monitor screen just above said keyboard as if it were a simple laptop or home computer. After a few clicks, a picture comes up on one of the largest monitors; the scowling visage of a bitter, scarred, and somewhat wrinkled face, adorned with wide red goggles and cybernetics around the sides of his face.
“You’ve come here for him.”
Ben looks up at the display, not needing any more than a second to recognize that face. He nods. “Dr. Aloysius James. Insists on the name ‘Dr. Animo’. Sounds tacky.”
“This coming from ‘Ben Ten’.” “This coming from ‘The Batman’?”
A pause wafts over the room, broken only by the sounds of keyboard keys being pressed rapidly.
“Fair point.” Batman turns Ben’s attention out to another screen. Several dates from the last three months all laid out uniform on the monitor. “There are the days Dr. Animo has been seen publicly for the last three months. Anywhere from Bellwood to DC, even all the way down in Texas or Kansas. Most recently, he’s converged here.”
Ben nods. “That’s part of why I’m here. I heard Animo was coming by to visit. He and I have something to settle.” Ben narrows his eyes, taking a look at each date. September 7th, September 17th, October 7th, and so on. The consistency drags on. “All dates ending on a 7.”
“The question is… why.”
“Why? Dr. Animo’s often like this… kinda weird around numbers.” “This isn’t just Dr. Animo, Ben.” Batman reassures him, and another monitor lights up with even more dates. September 3rd, September 9th, September 15th, on and on.
“These ones are divisible by three.” Ben confirms.
Batman nods. “These are all dates pertaining to an enemy of mine, Bane. Once again, from various cities all over the United States. I’m positive these have a connection, and I have a name to go off of, but…” That’s when the caped crusader hears the slam of a button and a flash of green light envelops Ben. He turns around quickly to make sense of the commotion, only to behold an entirely new figure having taken Ben’s place: an orange, crab-like thing easily standing above three feet tall, and with a massive head to take up most of that height.
The creature waves one of his pincers, using its other to point to the belt it was wearing right underneath its head; the dial of ben’s omnitrix on full display at the front of the iron strap. “Worry not.” He speaks in a slightly deeper, trilling voice with the hint of a british stiff-upper-lip. “I thought I’d swap over to another more… intellectually gifted form.”
“What do you call this one?” Batman asks rhetorically, not expecting the crab to answer with “Brainstorm, actually”. Upon hearing that, he lets out a sigh and returns his focus to the information at hand.
Before he can get another word in, Brainstorm interrupts.
“Mayhaps it is worth noting every date of Dr. Animo’s appearance ends with a 7, with the exception of any days where it is the 27th. Divisible by three, just like every appearance attributed to your ‘Bane’ figure.”
“Right.” Batman nods, then looks to all of Bane’s dates for a similar pattern. September 6th, missing entirely. September 12th, the very same. “Not a single even number on this list. Divisible by 2.”
“A hint to another cohort in this scheme?” Brainstorm adds. “Or perhaps we’ve fallen into a purposely set rabbithole? This could all be an elaborate ruse; a red herring, if you will.”
“Even if it is-” Batman quickly asserts, “-I can’t ignore the fact that it might not be. If this is intentional, we’re step further into finding the reason behind all this.
“Does that reason mayhaps include that thing that attacked us on the street?” Brainstorm’s thoughts flicker back to just a few hours ago, having been assaulted by that large, somewhat mechanical purple beast. An alien? Mayhaps.
“I don’t know. He seemed more intent on your watch than anything else… still, we can’t strike the idea.”
“Today is the 16th of December. If the pattern holds true-” Brainstorm adds, “-and if Dr. Animo truly is in Gotham, we will see him tomorrow. We best be prepared for such.” Brainstorm gives the dial on his belt a firm press, and with the same flash of green light, Ben returns to normal.
“If you want me to rest here, I will. I don’t mind sleeping on couches. Point is, we should be prepared.”
“Indeed. We should.”
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venusofthehardsells · 4 years
Text
Dreamgirl [part 6]
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ReaderxBucky Barnes
[part 5]
Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings: blood/violence-ish, therapy sessions, talk of mental instability, self-hate galore, Bucky is very distressed, what is plot (general series warnings include noncon and dark themes) A/N: Part 6 is here in record time and no one is more surprised than me. The chapter didn’t actually cover as much plot as planned, but I guess that’s the terrorbeauty of writing. Enjoy the tiny little glimpse into Bucky’s past as HYDRA’s Asset for now. Thank you as always for reading and being patient with my inconsistent self ♥♥♥ And a special thanks to @cake-writes​ for helping me out when I was stuck! You’re the best! ♥
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When the soft sound of his shoes echoes on the hallway to Dr. Trevelyan's office in the westernmost part of the compound, Bucky is as always taken aback by how loud he is. No matter which shoes he wears, he just can't seem to walk silently down this particular corridor. He tried barefoot once, just to test it, and the floor still dutifully announced his arrival. It’s the only place in the compound he can’t seem to conceal his presence.
He’s not surprised when Dr. Nadia Trevelyan, at the sound of his footsteps, opens the door to her office all the way and comes out to greet him. She does that sometimes. What does surprise him is the look on her face.
“Mr. Barnes. I was afraid you wouldn’t come today.”
Bucky frowns.
“I didn’t think I had a choice.”
The side of her elegantly painted mouth twitches and Bucky is certain it’s not from amusement. The way she proceeds to cross her arms only solidifies that certainty.
“You know there’s a choice. I just thought the general appeal of a barred cell had finally surpassed that of my office. It seemed like a reasonable conclusion to make, given your usual punctuality.”
Her calm, dry words feel like the verbal slap that they are, but at the same time a slower, more blunt feeling is oozing from them like the raw, cloying smell of an infected wound: dread.
With a shaking hand he takes his mobile from his pocket and unlocks the screen. The dread explodes into alarm. Starkly outlined against the black background, the white digital numbers of the phone’s clock perfectly justifies Dr. Trevelyan’s annoyance.
It’s 12:21pm.
It’s happened again. Bucky feels as if an ice cold fist is squeezing his insides. He’s lost time. He left the coffee shop, he ran straight back to the compound and now he’s standing here more than twenty minutes late to an appointment he’s usually early for. As if the hours just vanished in the blink of an eye.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, blood rushing to his cheeks until they physically hurt. He can't quite meet Dr. Trevelyan's big disapproving eyes.
It's his own fault, he knows. If only he had been more forthcoming in their sessions, she might have been willing to cut him some slack. But he has persistently worn her patience down over the past few months and now he fears there's nothing left. She'll have to report that he is late for a mandatory session and he'll have to undergo another full psychological evaluation, questions will be asked about why he wasn't on time, his sentence might even have to be renegotiated, Stark will be down his throat about the forest that'll have to be cut down to cover the paperwork…
Nadia Trevelyan seems to be considering these facts as well and to Bucky's immense relief, she finally sighs and uncrosses her arms.
"Since it's the first time it's happened, I suppose I can let it slide," she relents. The hard stare that follows the words tells Bucky exactly how much she likes it and he knows he'll have to grovel. Quid pro quo.
She steps aside to let him into the office and he sits down in his designated chair almost timidly.
"Thank you," he manages and she looks at him for a long time before she closes the door and sits down herself.
"So why are you late?" There's the adjusted voice of a professional shrink he's become so accustomed to by now. Bucky tries not to cringe.
"I just… lost track of time," he admits tentatively. "I was out running and I… I thought of S… Steve," he quickly amends, clearing his throat. His mind hasn't actually been near Steve since he entered the park early this morning, but somehow it doesn't feel right telling Dr. Trevelyan about Sugar. He wants to keep her to himself.
Of course, as his therapist, Nadia Trevelyan is bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, but because the sessions are a part of his sentence, that confidentiality only stretches so far and Bucky doesn't doubt for a second that anyone he talks to outside of the compound will be submitted to SHIELD's meticulous scrutiny the moment they hear about them. Sugar didn't agree to that and she sure as hell doesn't deserve it. No, Bucky wants to keep her out of his world for as long as he can. Keep her all to himself. Just Sugar and James, no complications, no messed up baggage, or spies or super soldiers or the end of the world. Just a regular guy who met a nice girl in a coffee shop and asked her out. That's all he wants.
"Bucky?"
He looks up and realises Dr. Nadia is looking expectantly at him. Shit, did he miss a question?
"You said you were thinking about Steve?" she supplies helpfully, if slightly irritated, when all he does is stare at her.
"Yes, uhm, well…" Bucky tries to regain his footing. "He, uh, left this morning for… work-"
"Yes, I'm aware," Dr. Trevelyan says, making Bucky raise an eyebrow. "My clearance is higher than yours, Bucky. How else could I be of any use around here?"
She doesn't say it, but he can hear it clear enough in her voice. You might have thought about that sooner if you ever actually bothered to talk to me.
"So you… you talk to Steve as well?"
She sighs.
"You know very well that I can’t tell you that."
But the sound of her heartbeat speeding up just a little is all the answer he needs. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she even gulped ever so slightly.
He can't figure out why, but it surprises him. Somehow he can't imagine either Captain America or Steve Rogers talk about their feelings. Not to Nadia Trevelyan anyway. Steve might look like an underwear model now, but he certainly doesn't have the confidence of one when it comes to women. And this therapist happens to be undeniably gorgeous. Tall and elegant, with long shiny black hair, she's the type of woman that turns heads; Bucky knows he would have tried his luck himself if he had met her back in the day when he wasn't broken, wasn't a monster. How Steve even gets a coherent sentence out in her presence is beyond him.
"Do you talk about me?"
There's something in her eyes when she answers.
"Whatever I may or may not discuss with Mr. Rogers isn't something I can disclose without his consent. And definitely not to another patient."
"Oh, so you do talk about me." Bucky can't help the smug little grin when Dr. Trevelyan actually relents a smile.
"Doctor-patient confidentiality, Mr. Barnes. You'll have to ask him."
"When he gets back."
"Indeed."
Bucky sighs.
"Whenever that might be." He regrets the casually bitter words the instant they're out of his mouth. Dr. Trevelyan's eyes gleam.
"You're worried about him."
"Of course I am!" Bucky nearly hisses. "He's a reckless, righteous idiot with a saviour complex and a stupid star-spangled frisbee, who can't tell when to quit. If his bleeding heart isn't going to get him fucking killed, his heroic dumbassery will. And I just…"
The sentence dies on his tongue. This is one of the reasons he hates therapy. Dr. Trevelyan barely has to say anything and the outbursts line up like a firing squad inside of him. And then he ends up saying things he doesn't mean, not really. Or worse, he starts to talk about something he can't voice. Literally can't get the words out without choking and feeling like his throat is completely tied up and his eyes are full of memories that he doesn't want to have. If he starts to dig into all of those ugly, horrid nightmares in the depths of his mind, Bucky is afraid he's never gonna emerge again.
His fragile, desperate hold on reality is fraying with every hour in this office, every sleepless night, every second he's on his own, but he is sure as hell not going to let go.
“He’s my friend, so of course I worry,” he dismisses instead, looking at the wall behind Nadia’s chair. There’s a stark white square to the right of her head, as if a painting, or a picture, has been taken down after a long time, leaving behind only a faint outline of its presence in the shade of the original paint. 
There is a tiny black hole at the center of the top of the white square from where a nail must have been. Bucky is surprised at the detail. He can’t quite believe something as low-tech as a nail exists in Stark’s shiny, new building.
“There are chinks in every armour if you know where to look.”
The nail is right in front of him. Held up close to his face between two silver metal fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky can see the Asset lean down behind him, lips close to his ear.
“It’s not like any of us wants to be here.” He twirls the nail in front of his eyes. “What do you say? We’ve gotten out of tighter quarters with less.”
Dr. Trevelyan nods sympathetically, but Bucky has already forgotten what he said. He barely even sees her anymore, his eyes are glued to the nail between the Asset’s fingers. For one terrifying moment, he sees the intent of his shadow self, sees Dr. Trevelyan on the floor with the nail sticking out between her eyes, blood silently trickling down her temple and he almost gags.
“Don’t,” he blurts out before he can stop himself and Dr. Trevelyan raises an eyebrow. The Asset just smirks and goes to stand next to her, leaning on her chair.
“What?” she inquires in an even voice.
“Yes, Bucky. What?” the Asset mimics mockingly.
"Just…" Bucky tries, fighting to regain some kind of control. He has to close his eyes and swallow, reaching back for the conversation Dr. Trevelyan is trying so hard to make him engage in. "Don’t act like you care. You don’t know what… how… what I’m like.”
Dr. Trevelyan sighs and rubs her temples, her long, elegant fingers uncomfortably close to the Asset.
“Believe it or not, Mr. Barnes, but I actually do care quite a lot. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. When your sentence was being negotiated, I volunteered to lead your therapy programme.”
That throws him. She normally doesn’t mention his sentence if she can avoid it and now she’s gone and done it twice in one day, but Bucky reckons he is being difficult, more so than usual.
“Yeah, well, no one asked you to,” he finally mumbles and Dr. Trevelyan’s mouth sets into a hard, painted line. 
As soon as the words leave him, Bucky wishes he could take them back, but with the Asset grinning at him, it’s almost impossible to focus. The nail between those silver fingers is still too close to her temple, but Bucky knows he can’t move. The Asset will be quicker.
Dr. Trevelyan regards him in silence for a long while then, before she sighs.
“Mr. Barnes, would you rather speak to a male therapist?”
Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise. What?
“Something is keeping you from confiding in me. Is it the fact that I’m a woman?” He has never heard her sound defensive before, but at this point he figures she’s well beyond caring.
“N-No, I…” He swallows when the Asset barks out a laugh.
“Oh, you’ve really charmed this one, Barnes.”
“Is it my skin then?” She gestures irritated with her cool light brown hand. “Or perhaps the accent? I realise things are very different from before all those atrocities happened to you, but that is why I am here. To help you adjust.”
“I thought you were here to cure me,” Bucky says slowly, willing himself not to look directly at the Asset.
“And I am trying, Mr. Barnes, but you have got to let me. If you don’t want my help, then there really isn’t much I can do.” She closes her eyes harshly for a moment. “Forgive me. That was very unprofessional of me. If, for whatever reason, you want a new psychologist, just say so. It’s very important that you feel comfortable with the person you talk to.”
Bucky winces so hard he almost thinks he can hear a few bones splinter beneath his muscles, but it has nothing to do with her words.
It’s the blood pouring out of her mouth as she speaks.
Down her chin it trickles onto her navy blue blouse, staining the silk black. The Asset has jammed the nail into the side of her throat. It's sticking out far more than it should given its size, as if it has somehow grown from the thin, clean, needle-like little tack into a rusty 6-inch coffin nail.
Bucky has to fight against at least a dozen different instincts telling him to run or to attack, to help, to defend or just do something other than what he does: sit still in his chair and try to think of something to say.
"Remember this?" the Asset asks, stroking Nadia's hair almost lovingly. She doesn't even flinch. She just sits there with her blood gushing out, waiting for him to reply.
Yes, Bucky remembers all too clearly. It’s as if the miniscule scar in the junction between his shoulder and neck pricks at the memory and if he didn’t feel sick before, he really does now.
The girl in his memory doesn’t look much like Nadia Trevelyan. She’s younger, with pale skin and even paler eyes, a mop of dark brown curls, tiny freckles around her eyes and nose…
But the coffin nail is exactly the same.
“I don’t need a new shr- a new therapist,” Bucky forces out as evenly as he can. “I… It’s not you.” He stops to swallow around a throat so dry and thick he’s sure it must be about to choke him. It’s nothing less than what he deserves.
“She was quite a little wildcat, that one,” the Asset reminisces and it’s all Bucky can do to not vomit on his running shoes. HYDRA’s dark soldier is obviously enjoying the torment his words are nurturing in Bucky. “Gave us quite the fight. Do you remember her name?”
Miriam.
Two of the three wheels under Dr. Trevelyan’s chair are now situated in a shallow pool of blood that only grows larger by the second. It’s covering the ground beneath the Asset’s feet and is creeping closer and closer.
He draws his feet back just a little.
“I just can’t talk about her. It! I can’t talk about it.”
Triumph at his slip-up is evident in Dr. Trevelyan's dark eyes, a sparkle of relief that she has finally gotten something out of her stubborn patient. Well, that's all she is going to get. Bucky clenches his teeth to the point of pain, vowing not to slip up like that again. No matter how badly the Asset rattles him, no matter what cruel tricks his mind is trying to play on him. Even if the bleeding woman in front of him is looking less and less like his doctor and eerily more like a girl twice buried many, many years ago.
"Who is it you can't talk about, Bucky?"
It feels almost worse knowing her sympathy is real.
"Doctor, please. I can't."
"Why not?"
His hands must have made indents in the arms of his chair with how tight he's grasping at them. Dr. Trevelyan doesn't push for an answer, but he's sure she captures and analyses every little movement he makes, most likely correctly too.
“I just… I wish that…” He has to swallow so hard his throat ought to rupture with the motion and his eyes are awash with the pressure of tears. “It’s too… too painful and I- I would rather be dead. If I’d just died back on that train, then… then everyone would be better off.”
His whole body trembles, but the words are out, hanging there between them as if he had shouted them.
“Would Steve?” The question is almost tender, as if she’s afraid to break the silence. It still feels to Bucky like a punch to the stomach.
“Steve’s fine,” he mumbles, not quite meeting her eyes. “He did just fine before I came and screwed things up. Should’ve just shot me on that bridge. Or let me drown.”
“Bucky, you have to stop thinking like that.” The genuine concern in Dr. Trevelyan’s voice is of a very different kind than the one he’s used to. Perhaps that’s what makes him listen. “I know there’s nothing I can say at this point to change your mind, but I still think you need to hear it. Whatever HYDRA made you do was not your fault. Now, we both know I can repeat that until I run out of breath and it won’t make a difference, but… I mean it. You are not guilty of what happened to you. What was done to you was vile. Cruel. You deserve this second chance more than anyone. The fact that you think you don't only makes it that much clearer."
She sends him a smile that would have been reassuring if it weren't for her bloodied exterior. If she weren't his doctor he's almost sure she would have reached out and squeezed his hand too. For a moment, he wishes she would. He wants to feel the touch of another human so badly he aches with it, but he doesn't deserve it. Right?
He recalls Sugar's soft, pliant lips and the comforting warmth of her skin. Would she have let him kiss her like that if she knew who he really is? What he has done?
The pressure becomes too much and before he knows what's happening, the tears have trailed warm tracks down his cheeks.
"It will take a while, but I can help you if you’ll let me.”
“I don’t want to feel this way…” The admission is so quiet and so soft that for a moment he isn’t even sure it has even left those hidden depths of his soul where it has stubbornly refused to be snuffed out by the heavy hands of his guilt. He’s almost ashamed of it. “But I don’t know… I just don’t know how not to.”
“It’s okay, Bucky,” Dr. Trevelyan assures him. “That’s why we’re here. So that you can figure it out.”
Bucky dares to look up and take in her face. Her lips and chin are still caked with semi-dry blood and the rusty coffin nail is jutting out from the softness of her neck. 
But the Asset is gone.
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Alhabor smiles at the tall Frenchman as he sits down across from her at the small café table. He's as handsome as ever, even with the bottle blond hair that drains him a little bit. It gives him a haunted edge that makes his face even more interesting. He looks like a lost Romantic poet, she thinks longingly when he sends her a smirk and lowers his small black sunglasses to look at her.
"Good morning, mon coeur." They haven't seen each other in over three months and she knows it's her fault. Her job always comes first. Sometimes she wishes it wasn't like that. Sometimes she wishes she could run off with Christophe and let him take care of her the way he always promises he will on those few precious nights of passion they manage to steal from time to time. Sometimes she wishes she wasn't such an idealist.
"Good morning, my love. It’s a beautiful day in Paris, don't you think?”
He reaches out and places a brief kiss on her knuckles over her lukewarm cappuccino.
“I prefer Marseille. Fewer tourists. One day perhaps you will forget about those secretive morons and let me take you there.”
“Can you even show your face there?” Alhabor asks with a raised eyebrow and Christophe chuckles, shrugging.
“Pictures get lost, money changes hands, files disappear… I wouldn’t worry.” The sly smile on his perfectly shaped mouth makes her heart beat ten times faster, but she tries to compose herself. This is work.
“You know that I do.” She takes a miniscule sip of the cappuccino. “Did you get what I asked for?”
Better to get this over with fast and get back on track. She tells herself she’ll have more time for Christophe and his charms once this assignment is completed. Deep down, she knows she’s lying to herself, but it makes her feel better.
“Most girls want flowers or diamonds or expensive perfume.” He grins as he reaches into the lining of his trench coat and retrieves a small box. She can’t help grinning in exchange when she takes it and quickly confirms its contents.
“Oh, you know I’m never one to turn down diamonds,” she teases, making the box disappear into her own coat. Their gloved fingers barely even touch at the exchange. “But as romantic gestures go, you’ve outdone yourself this time, my love.”
"Anything for you, mon coeur." His smile isn't as brilliant as it usually is and it makes her frown.
"What?"
"Is it true you have the Lazarus assignment?"
"Yeah, like I said." She tries to sound casual, but they both know she can't fool him. He reaches out and takes her hand before she can pull away. His grip is hard, insistent.
"Promise me you'll be careful," Christophe says quietly and she can feel her heart come to a full stop in her chest. "He's still dangerous."
She can't quite meet his eyes when she answers.
"I know. But the order is very clear. We need him back. The Wakandans may have tampered with his head, but there's no telling what might still be in there. We simply can't risk it."
"You really believe that, don't you?" He sighs and squeezes her hand, but he doesn't let go.
"Are you surprised?"
"I like to think I know you too well for that. Just please tell me you know what you're doing."
"Oh, don't worry, my love." Alhabor pats the inner pocket of her coat where the little box is now hidden. "It's all going according to plan now. And you of all people know how persuasive I can be."
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