#Barney is a boss bitch

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Peter is yelling, hands cupped at his mouth.

Howie is on his feet, cheering.

Clint’s on the ring edge, calling out tips.

Steve’s staring down the opponent’s boyfriend.

Bucky watches her dodge right, hands up protecting her face. Her knee comes up, connecting with the girl’s side. She stoops, her first mistake. Y/N grabs the back of her head, her toes barely touching the ring mat, before her knee comes back up faster this time. Y/N slams the girl’s head down, meeting her knee. Shoving the girl back, into the ropes, when she stumbles from the knee to the face, Y/N winds up, throwing an absolute ruthless right hook to the jaw.

Her head snaps back, blood spraying, her body goes limp, hitting the mat with a thump.

The Ditch goes nuts, screaming from all sides. Cheering, celebrating, talking shit.

TC dips under the ropes, grabbing Y/N’s hand, holding it up, cheering just as loud.

When the Stark’s meet eyes. Howie and Peter are on their feet. Y/N bounces on her toes, all three at the same time, flex inward, with a loud “AHHHHH!” at one another.

“That’s our girl!” Becca is on her feet, screaming for her best friend.

He grins when his girl locks eyes with him. She grins, rolling her eyes at him.

They still went to The Ditch, sometimes TC worked the decks there. Mainly when Y/N wanted to beat on bitches for kicks. She was getting Becca into it now. Only Y/N’s now fighting top fighters from other areas, coming to see what she’s made of.

Sure she might be taking over the table, running her own mafia, and be the most feared thing in Saints high school, but she’s still the girl that needs a good fight to feel calm. Compromises were made between him and her when they started settling into life together. Like her training with Frankie and TC, after the battle for her, she never wants to be underprepared for another fight. He couldn’t blame her, encouraged her.

The memory of her in the hospital, damaged and broken, burned into his mind for life.

A tight feeling appeared in his chest, worrying about his baby sister taking over.

“Boss man?” She’s next to him, Clint cutting the tape off her hands. Steve, cleaning up the few cuts on her.

“The right hook, baby girl.” He shakes his head, smirking at her. “I’d say it’s blessed by Satan.” He chuckles, leaning into kiss her.

“But I am Satan.” She laughs against him, kissing him again.

“Don’t we know it.” Clint snorts.

“Unlikely to ever forget it.” Steve shakes his head.

“And if you do, I’ll remind you.” She sasses, like a snotty teenager.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” The two mutter at the same time, laughing.

“Ah.” Steve pauses.

“What?” He asks.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “Is that new or old?” He cut his eyes to her thigh and back away.

Fingerprints, on the outside of her thigh, a thumb print on the inside of her thighs.

“Old.” She grins in Steve’s face.

“Scarred for life.” Becca whines, walking away.

Clint looks down and back to her. “That’s hot.” He grins.

“Fuck yeah.” She laughs, they high five.

“Alright, enough of that.” He pushes Clint away, making him laugh.

-----

The house party loud and packed. The typical Friday night high school parties for them. He sat on the couch talking with the guys. “What’s the policy for fighting here?” Howie laughs, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Don’t. Why?” Steve smirks.

“Cause if Smalls sees that girl eye fucking Bucky, that policy won’t matter to her.” Peter laughs.

“Does any rule?” Bucky sighs.

They all laugh.

“Boss man.” She saunters up to them. Dark cut off shorts, a cut short red T-shirt, with a black sports bra underneath. Her ball cap turned backwards, dark hair in messy waves.

“Doll?” He smirks up at her when she comes to stop the side of the couch, he’s on.

She leans down, black fingernails tip his chin up towards her. Her eyes cut to the side and instead of kissing him as he thought. She licks him, from his jaw to his eyebrow. Staring down the girl watching him. She looks startled before she bumps into someone trying to get away.

“Much better.” She smiles pretty walking away.

Peter’s brow yanks down. Howie looks confused. Steve and Clint are unbothered.

“Did our baby sister,” Howie blinks.

“Lick you?” Peter’s eyelids flutter quickly.

“Yup.” Clint and Steve reply, throwing back shorts.

“What in the fuck?” Peter laughs.

“Not new.” Clint shakes his head, downing his beer.

TC is moving towards them, a look of worry on his face.

“What?” He puts his cup down.

“Pretty sure Eddie is across the street.” He jerks his thumb backwards.

They exchange a look between the five of them before jumping up and hurrying out of the house.

Indeed, on the other side of the road, sits Eddie parked, leaning against his car. He smirks at them, as they come to stand on the walkway of the house.

“Gwen get in the house.” Y/N’s voice hits his ears.

“Y/N.” Gwen sounds nervous.

“Wanda stay here.” Y/N orders, he can hear her coming up behind them. She cuts around him, walking down the path, they follow her. She stops on the edge of the curb.

Eddie flicks his eyes from her to Becca, standing next to her.

“Try it.” Y/N warns him.

Eddie smirks, cutting his eyes back to Y/N. They stare back at one another.

She stares him down, Buck looks from Eddie to Y/N, something dark and dangerous in her brown eyes.

It’s Eddie who blinks first, looking away. Suddenly he gets back into his car, leaving.

She turns on them, staring at each of them for a moment.

“Something you boys need to tell me?” Her brow lifts, Becca looks tense next to her.

“We don’t know what that was about.” He assures her.

She nods slowly. Cutting between them heading back towards her girls at the door. The six of them exchange a look, heading for her. She pauses, taking the cup from Gwen, she turns to them standing above them on the front stoop.

“You better swear on whatever god you believe in, Boss man; you didn’t lie to me.” She repeats the saying from the beginning, when they first started out and Ben Rielly and Sina were causing issues for them. The ice cold look in her eyes, makes his steps stop suddenly.

“I’ll make your life hell, James Barnes, you think before was rough, you haven’t seen shit yet.” She warns him. Turning, she steps into the house between her friends, walking away.

Fear creeps into his chest.

He swallows hard.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[mdhwrites]

Whats your opinion on Helluva boss's humor? Personally it kinda annoys me how the abuse so much the sex jokes. AND the swearing. It gets repetitive and tiring.

I actually don't think it's that bad. Not amazing or anything but the ensemble cast for Helluva Boss is well made. You essentially have your playful asshole with Blitz, your tsundere bitch with Loona, Millie being able to switch up roles between sweet heart and "I WILL RIP YOUR HEART OUT!" and then all the way on the other side of the spectrum is Moxxie who plays the fool and questions the violence and gratuitousness.

That is a pretty decent cast for most things honestly. It leans more mean spirited but that's in keeping with tonal priorities and humor priorities but it isn't all one note. Loona's comedy is different from Blitzo's. Blitzo and Moxxie do play off one another OKAY (I'll get to it) and Millie works well for bridging gaps. It's not doing anything brave but it's fine.

The problem actually comes more that the overall tone/setting doesn't create enough contrast from the comedy or character interactions and that is what causes the problem. Blitzo is harassed by Stolas. Stolas has a his own person who bitches at him. Blitzo is a dick with literally EVERYONE and picks fights constantly. The most effective contrast ever in the show is actually not even with the angels because of this, everyone just acts themselves and the angels are barely characters until they're assholes too which is a HUGE problem for Vivzie's works in general, but with Millie's family. Taking them out of the city and playing into city slicker vs farm tropes is actually the most varied character writing in what I saw of the show. Everyone is too samey otherwise. The nobles bicker like the commoners, their problems are just bigger. The commoners act as entitled or more than the nobles. No one gives a fuck about anything except their wangsting so they're assholes for no reason which is incredibly disinteresting.

Moxxie is the saddest of all of this because he is meant to be the straight man, the fool who is set up to be knocked down, but when people mock literally everyone around them, and Moxxie never gets shots back, he's literally just a punching bag, the point of a straight man feels kind of lost. He's a fool, like everyone else, he just has a lot more of it thrown at him to the point where it starts feeling like he's comic relief from how people treat him. The show doesn't want to frame it like that but it's not very interesting when it's not unique.

The Rule of Threes exists in comedy for a reason. By then, you can have built up a joke enough to really have it hit hard but repetition, like horror, kills comedy. You already know what the joke is. This I think is MUCH more the problem of Helluva Boss than the cursing. Like Dane Cook, people focus on the cursing when the bigger problem is that you remove all the cursing and what you're left with is very boring scripts that are very repetitive in their jokes. I bet you could make a fucking flowchart for how interactions between the main cast go which is true in a lot of sitcoms but usually takes longer than SEVEN EPISODES to get the vibe of. Let alone in a show that is not a sitcom but trying to be deep and dramatic as much as it's trying to be comedic.

But it has potential so if someone told me it got better in the long run, I'd be inclined to believe them. However... Most sitcoms, or even just comedies, have a Barney or a Kramer for a reason. This one character who is way more exaggerated than the others and is the one with the most outside perspective that others can react off of, if not be challenged by. Almost any action they make is unique because of these two elements when compared to the rest of the cast. They're not entire jokes but dynamic forces that push against the other characters in a way that otherwise wouldn't exist.

For Vivzie's works, these characters are meant to be Charlie and Moxxie but... They're boring. That's the thing everyone makes fun of them for. They don't do jack shit and they're the least exaggerated characters in their shows. As such, their voices vanish and all you're left with is the status quote.

And well, stagnancy and status quote are the death of comedy. I guess that's why it's in Hell though. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[thanaredreamtof]

James couldn't help but chuckle at the surprise that first came across the other mans face, but it quickly subsided as he listened to Ethan speak. He pressed the bloodied cloth to his nose, and looked at the dark haired man from across the way, noting how he stepped in between him and Felicity.

"thank me...what for?" he'd asked, his southern drawl dripping over the words, before Ethan explained his plan. "Ah...so she means...absolutely nothing to you then?" he asked, his lips pursing slightly as if to express I don't fucking buy it.

Then it was his turn to have the flash of anger in his eyes as he spoke about Felicity and him in bed. He didn't say anything, his tongue only playing at his teeth. He could taste his own blood. That bitch...he thought, glancing over at her again.

"well Ethan...since you've let me in on your little secret" he said and finally pushed himself off the counter, and took a few steps closer as well. "I'll let you in on mine...you see I had suspected something, of course I had, as much and all as you'd like to think it...I ain't stupid" he began circling the other, slowlying pacing around the kitchen floor. "and yeah I may have let my anger get the better of me...truth be told I thought I'd have handeled it a bit more...diplomatically...but when I saw her, packing her bag...well...you know" he said and nodded to the collapsed red head.

"And for what was taking my attention...well, have you spoken to your boss recently boy? or were you too busy barney mugging my wife" he said, emphasis on the same phrase that Ethan had used. He stopped moving, and faced him again, taking a drag from his cigar as well. He cocked his head to the side as he thought on it. "cause I gotta tell you...we've made some real progress on your turf down there, a couple of those supplies you got down there have switched sides...and I had a few men go down, rattle your boss and em...yeah it's been a busy few weeks…without those suppliers, and the debts your boss has ranked up with me…I’ll have em bled dry by the time I put that little bitch in the ground" he smirked, his smugness written all over his face.

"They were looking to rattle you too...but guess I'll just have that honour" he said, and with that threw his cigar onto the ground. He looked up at Ethan, his eyes suddenly darker than before, the game now over and James went to throw a punch at the other.

Ethan was growing furious by the minute over Felcity’s tardiness. He checked his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time. He paced in his apartment, unwilling to accept hed been duped by her. He checked his watch again before heading to look out the window. Nothing. She was an hour late. He paced around some more before finally leaving in a rage to go hunt her down

To say he was caught off guard by James'presence when he arrived would be an understatement. The man had been so oblivious until now. How had he finally figured it all out? His throat uncontrollably clenched in fear when he saw her lying on the ground, but his anger won control as Jamws spoke, his beast within awakening.

It was a shame Felicity would have to see him like this.

He pursed lips and shrugged. “I should probably thank you then,” he says coldly.

He began to confess everything. That this was his plan from the start - while true initially it was now a lie. He liked her. A lot. And he was going to kill Jamea double for what he’d done to her. He knelt down and gently pushed some hair away from her face and let his touch settle at her neck. At least there was still a pulse.

“She was getting a little clingy and you were taking far too long to figure it out,” he lightly insulted, standing and taking out a cigarette from his case. He tapped the tobacco in against it and slipped it between his lips, letting the smoke from his drag fill the air. “I guess I should also thank you for finally showing up. You’ve just made my job that much easier,” he told him with a sinister grin as he tactically positioned himself between the two.

He had to clench his jaw to keep from exploding right then and there from the rage he was experiencing. “Listen, if it’ll make you feel any better about all this” he started, motioning around the kitchen. “She wasn’t much of a whore,” he continued, feigning his disappointment expertly.

Ethan smirked his way as images of he and Felcity flashed through his mind. The many nights she’d shown him just how fun she could be - the good in her responsible for opening Ethan’s eyes to an entirely new meaning of the word. He took a drag, eyes locked with James.

“But she sure could fuck like one,” he antagonized him cooly.

He took a few steps his way, ashing onto the counter.

“You know,” he went on, momentarily pointing at him. “Given your reaction to finally being let in on the joke, I’m surprised you didn’t keep better tabs on your woman,” he poked at further.

He eyed him silently. As if he was searching for the sign that it wqs tine for Ethan to finally get to work and let his demons out to play.

“What were you so busy doing that you didn’t notice your wife barney mugging someone else until now?” he asked pointedly, though eeriely calm. “Must have been something pretty big to take your mind off her,” he added, finally relaxing his gaze and taking another puff.

[wannajointhecrabcult]

Reckless Rescuer

I literally just came up with this idea at midnight last night when I was just starting to go into fever dream mode so... This will be interesting. You asked to be tagged so here you go @justconfusedperiod!

Imagine that Marinette never became Ladybug.

Master Fu chose actual adults to go save Paris while Sabine and Tom gave Marinette combat training.

Despite not being a hero Marinette was still caught up in a lot of akuma attacks (Because Hawkmoth is a bitter ass) so she learned how to use everything and anything to her advantage.

Even though she's crafty Marinette still dies in akuma attacks and gets revived by the Miraculous Cure at the end of the day.

As sad as it is, she becomes used to dying.

That doesn't mean that she TRIES to get hurt during attacks, it just means that she expects her life to end one day because of an akuma or something and for her to not come back, so dying isn't a fear for her anymore.

She also builds a tolerance for pain during attacks where she doesn't die, but still gets very injured.

It's amazing how trauma can practically destroy someone's life while others are just so desensitized that it doesn't affect them anymore.

One day the Dupain-Chengs move to Gotham to both expand their business, and to get away from a certain magic fueled fashion disaster.

I mean, seriously.

You're supposed to be a designer but here you are walking around looking like a cardboard candy cane beige toothpick of a man.

Don't get me started on what the heck happened with Hawkmoth's costume.

What is that?

Are you wearing a silver condom on your head or what??

Anyways, Marinette attends Damian's school and they bond over being the only one's not overly worried about danger in certain situations.

At one point Damian thought that she might have been a hero or something but threw that thought away when he witnessed her somehow fall UP a staircase. (I've actually done this before. Surprisingly it's pretty fun.)

All was fine and dandy until one afternoon when they were walking to Neti's place after school to work on a project.

They were walking through a less populated part of the city and were passing a shoe store when two thugs held them at a gunpoint demanding for their cash.

The youngest Wayne was fully prepared to attack the men when Marinette started scolding them for being rude?

Marinette: Hey! You can't just do that! Do you know how rude it is to interrupt someone's conversation?! Apologize right and leave us alone right now OR ELSE.

The two men just looked at her for a moment before doubling over and bursting out in laughter.

After all, what can this tiny school girl do to hurt them?

The first guy calmed down and was about to threaten them again when all of a sudden a pink flat was thrown at his face.

Because of he was unprepared and because of the force behind the flying shoe, he was knocked over and fell to the floor with a thud.

The second guys turned to look at the girl who just threw her shoe at his partner when he was suddenly wacked in the face as well.

So there they were.

Two teenagers, one with no shoes on, in front of a show store with two thugs at their feet.

Truly a sight to behold.

Marinette turns to Damian and asks him for his shoes.

When he doesn't respond (he's in shock) Marinette just shrugs, turns around, and SMASHES HER ARM THROUGH THE GLASS WINDOW OF THE SHOE STORE TO GRAB A CROC AND CHUCK IT AT THE FIRST GUY AGAIN BECAUSE HE WAS GETTING UP.

She then turns to the second dude who was on his knees and says in a dark tone, "You better go and leave us alone before I get my hands on a pair of iceskates. Got it?"

He nods his head and scrambles to run away from the short girl with pigtails that just single handedly smashed her arm through glass and was somehow not wincing in pain from her many bleeding cuts and she threw shoes at them.

His partner frantically got to his feet and followed him.

After making sure that the two would-be-muggers are far away Mari turns to Damian and waves her still bleeding hand in front of his face.

"Heelllooooo? Anybody home?"

She then shakes his shoulders a bit.

Damian, now no longer in shock, starts freaking out about her injuries.

"oh...my...gosh....oh my gosh... oH MY GOSH YOU'RE BLEEDING EVERYWHERE!! OHMYGOSH THAT WAS SO RECKLESS OF YOU, YOU COULD HAVE DIED AND OH NO YOU JUST STRAIGHT UP BROKE A GLASS WINDOW WITH YOUR BARE HANDS!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU'RE HURT! WE NEED TO GETYOUFIRSTAIDOHMYGOSH!!!"

She tries to get him to calm down but that honestly makes him freak out even more.

"HOW ARE YOU NOT REACTING TO THE PAIN OF CUTTING YOUR ARM WITH MULTIPLE PIECES OF GLASS?!? YOU FREAKING THREW SHOES AT THEM! SHOES! WHAT IF YOU FREAKING DIED FROM THAT?!?"

"Well that would make it the 2615th time."

"...."

"....."

"Excuse me but wHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT WOULD'VE BEEN THE 2615TH TIME YOU DIED?!??!??"

Marinette was trying to get him to breathe since he was almost on the verge of a panic attack when the owner of the shoe store came out with a first aid kit.

The elderly woman proceeded to patch up Marinette's arm while thanking her for scaring away the muggers.

"Those two just keep scaring the customers away so I cannot thank you dearie enough!"

"Oh, it was no problem ma'am. They really needed to learn some manners anyways!"

"They really are so rude aren't they. And there we go! Your arm is all bandaged up. I would be careful with it if I were you."

She old lady then turns to Damian who has calmed down a bit now that Marinette's arm is bandaged.

"You've got quite a wild girlfriend here. Be sure to watch out for her safety or else you're gonna lose her."

That causes the two teens faces to burn red.

"Oh no you've got it wrong. She's not my girlfriend although I do agree that I should start looking out far her health more." He turns to Marinette as he says the last bit.

She just replies with a sheepish smile and a shrug.

"She's definitely going to give me gray hairs early."

The store owner gave Marinette and Damian a knowing look before sending the two on their way.

On the walk to Marinette's house Damian kept scolding her for her brash decisions and worrying over her arm at the same time.

At one point Damian asked her if she could actually feel the pain from her cuts or not and she just replied with "I got injured a lot when I lived in Paris so I have a high pain tolerance. This isn't even the worst wound I've ever gotten."

Needless to say, that did not reassure Damian at all.

When they did reach their destination they ended up deciding to finish the project on another day to let Marinette's arm heal a bit.

He calls Alfred to pick him up and when faced with the butler's questioning stare he just replies with "Too much excitement for today."

Before the limo drove off Marinette ran outside to the car and handed Damian a bag full of pastries.

"Consider this an apology for making you freak out so much."

He nodded and took the bag but still told her "You're an idiot you know right?"

"Haha. Or so I've been told." She shrugs. "See you tomorrow in class if you're not too traumatized!"

"Tt. We live in Gotham. It's gonna take more than that to truly scar me. Although I have to say, that's the closest someone's gotten in a long time. Don't do it again."

"No promises!" Marinette yells as the limo drives off.

That night Damian got a nightmare filled with shoes.

Marinette is now known and feared throughout the more amateur criminal community.

True to her word, Marinette tried to reduce the amount of risky choices that she took.

I mean, there was that incident with the llamas, trumpets, and skateboards but we don't talk about that.

Her safety streak ended when Damian was kidnapped.

And by the Joker no less.

Ya, no.

She's not just gonna stand by while her friend litteraly gets kidnapped by a clown man thing when she could do something about it.

The Joker called the Waynes through a video chat and threatens the dump Damian into a pool filled with unidentified and possibly contaminated water until they give him half a million dollars.

And because it's a two way video chat and all of the Waynes (except Damian) are there they can't 'call the batfam' to save him.

Because they were all so busy panicking and Joker was busy laughing, no one but Damian noticed a dark silhouette sneaking around in the shadows.

The moment he saw them he immediately knew who it was.

'Oh no. ThaT'S MY IDIOT!!'

Marinette noticed Damian's panicked stare on her and just, gave him a thumbs up? Before going back into the darkness.

'Oh no oh no ohnoohnononono what's she doing?!' He thought to himself as he heard quiet shuffling in the shadows.

Going back to the screen, Bruce was about to send the money when all of a sudden a bright light was turned on from behind the Joker to the left.

And they weren't expecting what they saw.

There under the light was someone in a Barney the Dinosaur costume sitting in a rainbow bumper car with a radio and a bag filled with something strapped in the passenger side.

TrULy RaDiAnT.

The purple dino turned on the radio, (which was playing the Barney theme song) made eye contact with the clown, and promptly said "Beep beep bitch." in a robotic voice (there was a voice changer in the costume) before driving full speed at him.

At first the Joker tried to run away from the vehicle but for some reason the bumper car was extremely fast and RAN HIM OVER before turning around,

AND FUCKING DOING IT AGAIN!!

Double oof.

They did this around 12 times before the Joker managed to push up from under the bumper car at the perfect time.

Marinette did a backflip (dramatics are guaranteed) as she jumped out of the rainbow ride while simultaneously throwing the radio at the Joker at full force.

The Joker, not expecting that, was thrown against the base of a wall.

He got up just in time to see his attacker pull out a shoe from the bag and chuck it at his nuts.

*cue everyone either laughing at his pain or wincing in sympathy*

The Barney pulls out a sandal from the bag and throws it at his face and uses a black stiletto to pin the clown's arm tO THE FRIGGING WALL when he reaches to touch where the flip flop hit him.

(Is there a difference between sandals and flip flops?)

She then uses another stiletto (a red one this time) to pin his other arm and pulls out YET ANOTHER SHOE (a rainboot) to hit his face.

...again....

This time he gets knocked out though so there's that.

...

....

.....

The power of FOOTWEAR!!

The purple and green dinosaur goes to untie Damian while his family just watch through the screen with their jaws on the floor, still processing what the actual heck just happened.

They get snapped out of their shock when the youngest Wayne launches himself into the Barney's arms and starts rambling about how worried he was and did the store owner give you all those shoes and why the heck did you follow me here.

They don't know what they were expecting the person under the Barney costume to look like but they definitely weren't expecting a young girl with pigtails wearing stilts to come out.

Apparently she needed them to fit into the suit.

Damian: How did you even know I was in trouble?

Marinette: I sorta have a six sense for this kind of stuff. It's disappointing that I didn't get to use all of my amo though :(

Damian: Wait. You brought MORE shoes?

Marinette: Yep! And a couple other things as well. Like this trumpet case, and this bowling ball, and this duck themed alarm clock (I have one lol), and oh! Wait a moment would ya?

*walks over to the pool and dumps around 30 bath bombs in*

Marinette: There! Now this place will smell super nice!

Damian: Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of unidentified liquid?

Marinette: Yep!

Damian: Let me rephrase that. Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of possibly chemically contaminated water which could possibly have a bad reaction to the bath bombs which could possibly explode or just generally be the death of us?

Marinette: ........

Damian: ........

Marinette: ......

Damian: ........

Marinette: ....well it wouldn't be the FIRST time I-

Damian close to tears: yEs I KnOw PLeaSe StOp ReMinDiNg mE.

Ya so this was just a random idea I had and that I will probably not be adding to but y'all reading this are more than welcome to! If you do continue or make your own little spins on this please tag me! I would love to read them :D

[hlvrv]

Congrats on being Swindled, Barney!

...This is gonna be a hard-ass bargain, isn't it...

Party Pontiff chuckles, pressing on a pager.

Perky? Tell my boys I'll be busy with a food services issue for the next while. I'm not to be disturbed!

You got it, boss!

[beep]

Mr. Calhoun. ...And company.

I used to be something of a pushover, you know. But after I met my dear Science Team, I made a promise to myself to only reach for the best of the best.

I defeated all 300 of my clones to get here. If you think I'm going to be some old codger who gets sweet-talked into a corporate takeover...

You're DEAD WRONG, my good bitch!

[mocacheezy]

And the title of "Was so amusing I forgot he was supposed to represent a ruthless villain" goes to: ✨Beast Wars Megatron (1996)✨

[Show spoilers below, but you probably know that already.]

Extra note: I am a TF newbie. This is my opinion and I don't have all the details for the many continuities that exist. I just need to scream about a purple T-Rex.

As the shows main villain, he seems more comical than threatening, but during the second and third season he:

Cut out an immortal spark from a failed Maximal science experiment, and continuously used it to torture said experiment (both for his amusement AND practicality, since Rampage would destroy him otherwise)

Called a deformed protoform ugly, "with an ugly name to match its appearance", and called it useless since it is unable to transform.

(Yeah, the above doesn't sound bad or unusual by villain standards, but these are things that had me go "What the fuck, aren't you the theatre kid of a villain? What is this?!", so if it made me react like that it's on the list. The following things also contribute to my reaction)

Set up the before mentioned protoform to an impossible task of essentially killing all Maximals and bringing proof of their deactivation as a test of its competence (bring me their heads... Dramatic✨)

By calling it useless since "It can't even transform!", he is spitting on the name of his predecessor, the original Megatron

(I am atleast 90% certain that G1 Megatron (and any other Megatron really) would take a look at it, figure out if it can hold a gun/fight/be useful and let it fight. Can't even transform my ass, as long as it can be manipulated and/or fight for the Cons it doesn't matter if it can or can't transform you copper bitch!)

Decided to cut the Maximal science experiment's immortal spark in half to create a new Frankensteined transmetal super soldier.

In order to obtain more power he took the original Megatron's spark and "mingled" it with his. And by mingled, I mean he inserted it into his own spark chamber with his own spark and kept it there. Not intending to return it to the original frame most likely.

Until the very last episode of the third season, until the last 10 or so minutes, it looked like he was going to win. I am talking the whole "Are the good guys going to win?" kind of doubt on my end.

But the real kicker and the reason why I'm so shocked?

He was in character through all of this! He didn't get "more evil" or "crazier" or "ruthless" as the seasons progressed. He wasn't "meaner" or "less charismatic". He behaved precisely as he did in the first season, same dramatics in his movements and speech and all of that!

The only difference was that he was doing something actually threatening and villainous in front of us viewers!

That's what had me staring at the screen with wide eyes; the fact I got fooled by his personality and didn't perceive him as an actual threat.

From the 3 shows I finished watching so far (Prime, Animated, Beast Wars) he threw me in for the biggest fucking loop.

Because with other Megatrons it's very clear what kind of a villain they are from the start:

Prime Megatron looks like a threat, moves like a threat, and while he has charisma, we don't see it that often. And he has dramatics, but those are mostly reserved for fights with Optimus or Unicron-poprock-crystal-candy induced hallucinations. And even then it's more like grand, over the top speeches, not silliness.

Animated Megatron has class. He is charismatic and uses this to his advantage to the extreme. He manipulates everyone and anyone, his followers are ready to fight eachother for a crumb of his praise, and a chance to be called "most loyal". He has dramatics (more than just the fact he twists his oil barrels into goblets) and he has embarassing moments infront of his troops, but those are due to circumstances, not him being silly.

I am in the process of watching Cyberverse, and so far this Megatron is a threat, doesn't seem like much of a threat when fighting the autobots, and to my limited spoiler-fueled knowledge, will become a bigger threat later on.

Take another look at Beast Wars Megatron and tell me if you'd consider this guy a threat:

He monologues and laughs TheVillainLaugh so often, you start to expect it and just wait for it most episodes. At one point he laughs so hard he ends up choking on it. And after his coughing fit he resumes his plan monologue as if nothing happened. And it's not like the other Predacons don't acknowledge their boss' behaviour:

That doesn't mean he doesn't have some loyal Predacons; Scorponok, Waspinator and Inferno being the ones that come to mind (also the ones that crave his approval and praise the most), with the other Preds leaning more towards treachery. But how he handles treachery or disobedience or even talking back, where it seems like he's bantering, not threatening them,

His personality just doesn't fit with the traits and behaviours the other two Megatrons exibit, the kind of traits that I started to expect of Megatron as a character.

He doesn't fit my perception of a Megatron that is a threat.

Which, considering the narrative of transformers, says alot about me and the way I essentially placed the character into a mold and went "alright, angry, commands and demands attention, can be ruthless, is stupid enough to keep a guy as his SIC/ on his team, despite multiple murder attempts and scheming".

Now, if we get into actual details, Beast Wars Megatron wouldn't count as "an actual Megatron", since the show itself is set after the Great War between the autobots and decepticons, G1 timeline. This Megatron took his predecessors name, so for all we know his name could be Joe before he changed it.

But his actions and the "destroy and conquer and lay the groundwork for future plans while you're causing mayhem" thing he has going on? That is Megatron behaviour as far as I can see.

And, granted, Beast Wars is the oldest out of the three shows I've watched (Animated 2007, Prime 2011), and so he is older than both of them, his characterization might be much closer to G1 than both Prime and Animated!

But before this becomes a full on essay full of misinformation (and more spelling mistakes), I'll just give my thanks to each continuity being it's own thing, with enough variety to keep you on your toes, while expecting how the general plot might go.

I hate that I can't even fully hate him, because he is so incredibly entertaining, so I am stuck looking @ the screen, cursing the fucking prehistoric grape lizard fidget spinner of the future, because he is so vile but he does it in style.

Here's a flattering picture of him as I seethe.

🎉Congratulations you metal Barney on rollerskates!🎉 You are truly despicable, the worst! I hope you choke on a rubber ducky💕

[He also gets a smaller trophy for his Transmetal MegaMode (or whatever it is called officially), because its a fucking dragon. He went from a bubblegum T-rex, to a copper rollerskating T-rex that can fly, to a red and gold dragon that can breathe fire and ice. So yeah, drastic transformation wise, no competition here, as well as levels of drama that came with each alt.]

[toomanyrobins]

November

Summary: Clint Barton, college football star, has a new interest: Y/N Y/L/N. But with her father gone all of the time, a younger brother, and going to college, Y/N has no time for dating. Will Clint get the yes, or will life get in the way?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Content warning: nothing really yet, occasional cursing, mentions of drinking and sex later

Word Count: 3.3k

Y/N had brought Asher over to the Barnes’ for a playdate. It seemed that the stomach bug that had ravaged their class was gone. Every parent was glad to see it go with Thanksgiving in a couple weeks. Y/N sat in the kitchen with Winnie. Bucky’s mother was famous for taking in strays from the football team and now it seemed she had selected Y/N as her newest one. She poured the young girl a cup of coffee and asked if her father had been around recently. Y/N nodded and explained he’d been in town for a meeting with some investors, but had left two days after. Winnie smiled tightly. She knew that Y/N was raising her younger sibling and it made her angry to see the weight the young woman carried around. The young woman was notoriously tight-lipped about the situation, so she switched to safer topics, “How’s the planning for Asher’s birthday going?”

Y/N tensed at the question, “No one is going to come other than Becca and Morgan Stark. Those damned PTA moms,” She dropped her head to the countertop, “God, I’m so bad at this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Winnie patted her head, “You’re 20 and you’ve been doing great so far. It’s not your fault the moms at the school are awful.”

“What am I going to do? I’m already stressed out about this and with a football themed birthday party I’m doomed.”

Clint and Bucky had just stopped by the house and headed straight for the kitchen. They caught the tail end of the conversation and the blond perked up at the idea of helping Y/N, “Football birthday? I can help with that.”

“You can?” He glared at Bucky, who suddenly realized and nodded, “Oh yeah, we can help.”

Y/N smiled softly and waved a hand, telling them they didn’t have to. “It’s no problem,” Clint sat on the counter next to her, “What do you need to know?” Winnie and Bucky shared a look. She has raised some good boys and could tell that Clint was trying everything to get Y/N to notice him. She offered to go check on the kids and give them some space to plan. She grabbed Bucky’s arm, dragging him with her on the way out. 

Clint sat next to Y/N at the table and could see that she was struggling. She refused to meet his eyes, instead staring at her coffee as it swirled, “No one is going to come to Asher’s birthday on Saturday and I don't know what to do. I feel like such a failure,” the tears started to form in her eyes..

He didn’t know how to deal with tears and tried to make them stop, “Why doesn’t the team come? We can play football with the kids, and I’ll force them to bring presents.” She finally looked up at him and it broke his heart to see her this way. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and her nose was red from the cold. It blew him away that he hadn’t noticed Y/N before this year. She couldn’t believe that he would offer this. Y/N asked him if he was sure and he nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, they would totally be into that. They all love Becca and we work with a bunch of kiddie teams.” Clint saw that she was getting emotional again. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. For the first time, it didn’t seem like she wanted to run in the opposite direction when he was near. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and let his presence comfort her. Clint looked up and made eye contact with Bucky, who was giving him two thumbs up and gyrating his hips,  before Winnie came by and smacked him upside the head. 

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

Y/N got up earlier than usual on Saturday. She always was an early riser, since it was the only time she had to herself. Most mornings, she would sit outside with her coffee and take in the silence. Sometimes Nat would join her and they would use that time to catch up on the little things. This morning was different and she got straight to work hanging up decorations. She had started to make breakfast when she heard a soft knock at the door. The shock on her face made Clint chuckle when she opened the door, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to chalk that rude greeting up to the fact that you haven’t had coffee. Which is why I brought this,” Clint brought a tray out from behind his back with a flourish. “Winnie always gets up early for birthdays and I figured you’d be doing the same.”

“Oh, I love you,” Y/N took one look at Clint and clarified, “I meant the coffee.” He passed her a cup, sneaking a kiss on her cheek in greeting, and walked into the house towards the kitchen. Y/N stood frozen for a moment, the feeling on his lips burning her cheek. She took a sip of coffee to calm herself. Her head shot back in confusion and took another tentative sip and then stared up at him, “Should I be scared that you know how I take my coffee?”

“Let’s not focus on that. Just say thank you and move on,” Clint sat on one of the barstools, sipping his coffee. “So, how can I help?” Y/N told him to start blowing up balloons that she hadn’t had a chance to finish. Her mind wandered and she nearly jumped out of her skin when Clint leaned over her. She blushed at how close he was to her. “Are those Mickey Mouse pancakes?” 

He had backed them against the counter, forcing Y/N to turn and meet his gaze. She looked up at him, “They are a special occasion breakfast in this house. Every birthday and every holiday.” Clint smiled down at her and noted the blush on her face. Y/N turned back around when she realized how close they were standing and cleared her throat, “Nat should be coming by soon and she can tell you where to put things. She’ll like to boss you around.” 

The two of them joked around as they worked. Once he had finished the balloons, Clint came back into the kitchen and started stealing sips of Y/N’s coffee since he’d finished his. She threatened him with the spatula when she caught him the first time, but pretended she hadn’t after that. She liked that he kept stealing glances at her each time before he took a sip. His hand creeped towards the stack of pancakes and that time Y/N whirled around to stop him. Clint grabbed her hand and spun her around, their laughter filling the kitchen. He pulled her close, but they were interrupted by the front door flying open. “Who’s ready to party up in this bitch!” Nat turned and saw Clint and Y/N and how close they were standing. The smirk that grew on her friend’s face had Y/N groan; Nat was going to be incorrigible, “I have to admit Barton, you were not who I expected to be in the kitchen this morning.”

Clint just smirked at the redhead, “How was Barnes?” 

Nat smirked, “Satisfied.”

Y/N groaned and threw her hands up, “Natasha, no! Go upstairs and shower before the kids wake up!” The redhead gave her a look that told her this conversation was not over and skipped off to get ready. 

It didn’t take long before Asher was rushing down the stairs and waved quickly at Clint before flying into Y/N’s arms, “It’s my birthday!”

“It is!” Y/N faked surprise, “What am I going to do? I completely forgot!”

“No, you didn’t!” She had hoisted him up and he pointed over her shoulder, “I see the pancakes.” 

Y/N laughed, “Alright, you caught me. I’d never forget your birthday.” 

While the two siblings were occupied, Nat came back down. Soon the four of them were sitting down for breakfast. He sat back and watched the dynamic of the little family. Asher was perfectly comfortable around his sister. He listened to her like she was a parent. If he was being honest, she was his mom. Y/N was at every school event, cared for him when he was sick, and stressed about having the best birthday possible. Y/N was everything he had wished Barney would’ve been for him when their parents passed. Of course the situation wasn’t entirely the same, the Y/L/N kids had a father. A very wealthy, but absent father, from what Winnie had told him. Clint just couldn’t stop admiring Y/N. Not only did he think she was beautiful, she was this bright light that was affectionate and intelligent. 

While he was distracted, Nat watched the blond stare at her best friend.  She nodded to herself, Clint Barton had never been someone she imagined for Y/N, but he was proving her wrong. She deserved someone dependable and loving, who would take the sibling duo as a packaged deal and not an inconvenient tag-along. She had never expected anyone from their football team to step up, and yet here he was, at home before she was, helping Y/N. He had arranged for the football team to come to Asher’s party so he could have a good party. Bucky had been telling her that Clint was like a new person and it was for the better. Maybe they both needed each other more than either knew.

When breakfast was finished, they had gathered on the couch while Asher opened his presents from the family. Y/N had asked Clint if he wanted to give his present now, but he shook his head, mischief gleaming in his eyes. She leaned back on the couch and Clint slung his arm over his shoulder. His fingers traced her shoulder, leaving goosebumps on his wake. She turned to look at him and he smiled, “Is this okay?” Y/N bit her lip and nodded, turning her attention back to Asher, who was showing her the gifts. Nat was shaking her head and smiling at her oblivious friend. She knew that Y/N had told Clint she didn’t have time to date, but everything seemed to be changing. 

After the excitement, Y/N convinced Asher to take a nap before everyone showed up. It had taken a lot of back-and-forth and some mildly bribery, but she did it. After they were sure he was out, the three of them got to work. In under an hour, they had the entire house decorated, the pizza delivered, and the firepit set up outside. It wasn’t long before the Barnes and Stark families showed up with the team. Y/N had been nervous about meeting the team, but everyone was so nice. Asher was hesitant of all the strangers at first, but when he found out that they were a football team and they had come to play with him, it was the best day after. Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face at how excited Asher was. It was never what she would’ve planned, but it was worth it all to see how happy everyone was. 

They went into the back and set up a small football field and Y/N was blown away. Clint walked up behind her as she watched the team work and play with the kids., “So what do you think?”

“I think I was very wrong about the team,” Y/N turned to look at him, “And you. I’m sorry. This is so much more I could ask for Asher.”

Clint shrugged, “I didn’t just do this for him. Now, come on. Time for you to learn how to play.” Y/N tried to stop him, but he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her down to everyone else. She was laughing the whole way down to the makeshift field. They played a few games until the kids started calling for pizza. Everyone went inside and sat around the house. Y/N had never seen so much life in the house and while it was overwhelming, it made her so happy to see it. 

Once all of the pizza was put away, Y/N went into the kitchen to pull the cake out. Everyone sang Happy Birthday and she slid the cake in front of him, “Okay, Birthday Boy, make your wish!” 

Asher took a deep breath, “I wish that dad was here so that Y/N could play more.” He blew out the candles, oblivious to the bomb he had dropped. Y/N clapped when the last one went out, pretending that she didn’t have guilt the size of a boulder weighing down her chest and hurt reflecting in her eyes. Everyone shared a look, but tried to pretend everything was fine. Clint and Bucky had given them a brief explanation to the team about Y/N and Asher and they all knew that this wish was a hard pill to swallow.

“I left the plates inside, I'll be back in a second,” Y/N leaned down and kissed his forehead, “No sneaking icing while I’m gone.” She rushed into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She opened the cabinet to grab the paper plates and plastic forks. In her distracted state, she jammed her finger, “FUCK!” She brought her hand up to her face and felt the tears start to spill down her cheeks. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. Bucky was standing in front of her and she quickly wiped the tears away, “I’m so sorry he said that in front of you guys.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You stay right here and do whatever you need to do to calm down. I’m gonna bring the plates out and I’ll be back.”

Bucky handed off the plates to Steve. Clint went to walk towards the kitchen, but Bucky stopped him, “Let me talk to her.” He walked back in and Y/N was where he had left her in the kitchen. He got her a glass of water, “You know, my dad bailed pretty soon after Becca was born. She doesn’t know any different, but I can remember a time when it wasn’t just my mom. She was an adult and did what you do now. You're a super badass and even your brother thinks so.” Y/N scoffed, but Bucky wasn’t going to let her become a ball of self pity, “His wish wasn’t for your dad to be around because he misses him. He wished your dad was around so that you could be together more. Even at 6, he can see how much you give up to be there for him. Don’t cry over this, feel proud that you’ve raised such an awesome kid.”

Y/N smiled and wiped away the last of her tears, “Who knew Bucky Barnes was such a softie. You definitely have my approval to date Nat now.”

He laughed and gave her a hug, “Come on let’s go eat cake and open presents. The guys and I got him some awesome stuff.”

“You guys actually bought him presents?”

“Of course we did. What person shows up to a party without presents?” The two of them went back out to join the party and no one commented on Y/N’s red rimmed eyes. 

Nat came over and checked on her. The redhead laughed when Y/N told her that she had picked a good one and should marry Bucky. Clint walked over to them and let Y/N tuck herself into his side. 

Pepper had dished out of the cake and Asher, Becca, and Morgan were covered in blue frosting, “Bath time is going to be interesting tonight.”

“We could always spray them off with a hose,” Tony passed Y/N a plate. The trio cheered and asked if they could do that. 

Y/N shrugged, “I can’t think of a reason we shouldn’t do that later.” The kids cheered again and finished off their cakes. Clint kept stealing bites of her cake and she had to ask, “Is it just my stuff you like to take or are you like this everyone.”

“Just you,” he reached down and wiped icing off her cheek. Her face grew warm and she could feel people watching them 

Y/N pulled away and clapped her hands, “Present time!” Everyone went out back and sat around the firepit on the couches and bean bags. They passed around blankets as Asher sat next to Y/N on the center couch. The guys all brought out their gifts and Y/N felt herself getting emotional at the generosity. Surprisingly, all the gifts were age appropriate. 

Clint had an arm across the back of the couch and was playing with ends of her hair. He tugged on them and she leaned closer so that he could whisper in her ear, “Pepper brought them on a shopping trip.”

A massive grin spread across Y/N’s face and she leaned closer to him, “I would’ve paid good money to watch that group in the toy section.”

Clint flashed a proud smile, “We nearly got thrown out.” She threw her head back and laughed. In their little bubble, they didn't notice that everyone was watching them. They all smirked at each other at the obvious attraction. When it was Clint's turn to give Asher his present, he kept one hand on Y/N’s thigh and squeezed, worried that it wasn’t enough. Inside the bag was a jersey for their college team with Asher’s name on it. “I talked to Coach Fury and he’s going to let you be his assistant coach at our next game. That means you get to hang out on the sidelines the whole game.” Asher’s eye grew wide and he flung himself across Y/N’s legs to hug Clint . The trio fell back in a pile of laughter. Clint managed to keep them upright and was talking to Asher as he thanked him over and over. 

While the two were distracted, Nat leaned over, “I bet Clint would love it if you showed up in his jersey at the next game.”

Y/N smirked, “Could you get me one?”

“I’ll ask Bucky,” Nat winked at her. After everyone’s gifts had been opened, Asher threw his new jersey on and they started up a new game, this time with Tony joining. 

Y/N was surprised when Clint dragged her onto one of the bean bags instead of the game, “Don’t you have a game to play.”

“They have even numbers right now. I’d hate to throw off the game.” They watched as the guys picked the kids up and ran across the backyard with them thrown over their shoulders. 

“Mhmm, they clearly are following all the rules.”

“Plus, I’m comfy,” he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and fell back, dragging her with him. 

Pepper watched them and turned to Winnie, “They are adorable.”

Winnie smiled, “Aren’t they just? Clint just needs to actually ask Y/N out. I told him I’d babysit Asher so that they could go, but he still hasn’t done it. It is killing me. And then I’ve got Bucky and Y/N’s friend, Natasha.” The two women turned and watched Bucky fireman carry the aforementioned redhead down the field. Winnie shook her head, “I’m thinking of asking them to have Thanksgiving and Christmas with us. The idea of them alone in this big house breaks my heart.”

“You’re going to have a full house for the holidays. The girls are good for them. They seem much happier, Clint especially.”

Winnie was beaming, “It is like night and day. When Barney was deployed, he was so lonely. Now he reminds me of that kid from Pee-Wee football. He’s lost so much and I was worried he’d always live under the cloud of it.” They were interrupted as everyone cheered when Asher scored a touchdown, doing a little dance at one end of the yard. Things were looking up for everyone and their family was growing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@be-patient-be-good​

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[swingsetindecember]

List which 5 TV shows make you feel better then tag 10 other blogs.

Tagged by @andrea-lyn (thank you!)

Elementary - SNOW ANGELS. i can rewatch that episode, they solve a robbery in a snow storm. it’s such a character driven show. like found family and competency porn all in a mystery solving show that doesn’t spend the whole show brutalizing a victim. the show ends well and gosh is such a satisfying watch

Leverage - i can’t remember how i discovered leverage. because like i didn't have cable and gosh if you love heists and shenanigans as much as i do, then leverage will make you so happy and it’s another character driven show and ends so well. My fav episode is Juror #6 and just chef’s kiss

Futurama - the first 4 seasons then the rest is a bit hit or miss and I curate my watches from the newer seasons but like the commentaries, the jokes, the fact that i still quote episodes in my daily life and no one gets it, everything and WINDMILLS DO NOT WORK THAT WAY, GOODNIGHT

Don't Trust the Bitch in Apartment 23 - like this show is so indulgent to a female character in a way that usually is only given to male characters. Like the closest approximation i can come to is if Ted and Barney were women and shared an apartment? but that is even a poor comparison because June and Chloe are just so much better. James Van Der Beek plays a pastiche of his own self. 

Better Off Ted: probably the only satire on working in a multinational corporation that is part mad science and 100% accurate of corporate life. and it’s the closest i have seen to a show talking about my daily life as an engineer 

Honorary mentions to Gravity Falls because I watch it before I go to bed and like Boss Mabel is my fav episode. & Community because like i watched the halloween episodes again and they are great.

@ifeelbetterer, @lavenderek, @sophielostandfound, @alyseofwonderland @new-shoes-potter, @grandpa-cat, @halffizzbin, @callahaa and @pantstomatch

[bellygunnr]

Barney plays Chulip

a commission piece for the wonderful @pharonochs  check’em out, they’re lovely

They were lucky enough this morning to meet up at the receptionist’s desk of Sector C. Barney holds Gordon’s face within his hands, pushing onto his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“You gonna be okay, babe? You said your hands were givin’ ya trouble.”

Gordon nods, smiling. “Don’t worry. Have a good day at work, love.”

As they go their separate ways, Barney gets an alert on his pager. Security Officer Calhoun, please investigate an unauthorized biological signature in Sector C break room.

Barney furrows his brows, but goes to do just that.

When Barney enters the break room, he sees… Gordon. Or someone who looks very much like his dear boyfriend, Gordon, but clearly isn’t because of the loud voice they’re using. They’re pacing back and forth, hands flailing-- is that one metal?-- while talking to themselves.

Barney raps his knuckles against a vending machine glass. “You uh… you good here, boss?”

The man sputters. “What-- what, you gonna tell me I’m not supposed to be here? Listen up, pal, I’ve been here long enough and if I have to do this shit again-!”

He abruptly slows, shaking his head. “So- sorry, man. My name’s uh… Gordon Freeman. You’re…?”

Barney rubs the back of his neck. Fuck. Okay.

“Barney,” he says, in lieu of panicking. “S’gonna be alright.”

For some reason, Barney approaches the man, arms spread for a hug. He just looked so worried and panicked…

To his surprise, Gordon falls into his arms, sinking into him with a tired whine. Barney tilts his head back, kissing his temple.

Before either of them can say anything, Gordon vanishes in a bright green light.

-

The second investigation request comes far too soon after the first. It leaves Barney blushing and disoriented as he half-sprints down the halls, drawing bewildered glances from coworkers and science team alike. What was he in such a hurry about, they have to be wondering.

Well, Barney would sure as hell like to know that too. Last time, it was his boyfriend, just a little bit to the left. Or the right. Wait, was that crying he heard?

He slows down, heart rate up a bit, straining to listen. Muffled sounds were coming from just down the hall-- behind this closed door? Huh, who knew Black Mesa had maintenance closets… With a tentative hand, he twists the door’s handle, opening it just slightly.

The light reveals-- a man. A large man. One hunched over, shoulders shaking, definitely crying.

“Hey… hey buddy, you alright?” Barney asks, eyes wide.

The man looks up. His face is bloodied, eyes damp with tears, with short cropped hair and a messy goatee. Most damnably, he’s wearing an HEV suit-- with-- are those bullet holes?

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” the man says immediately.

“I’m here to help!” Barney exclaims, taken aback. “Let me guess-- Black Mesa went to shit n’ all for you, right? Gordon?”

It was a bit of a shot in the dark, but…

“How the fuck do-- Barney Calhoun… Fucker, I thought you died!”

With that, the man heaves himself to his feet, lunging for him. He wraps an armoured arm around Barney’s shoulders and hauls him in, knuckles digging into his scalp. Barney makes a choking noise, breath knocked out of him.

“You wild son of a bitch, knew you had it in you. Where the fuck am I?” Gordon asks, laughing. His voice is deep and rough, a far contrast to his own (silent) and the Freeman (sad).

“You’re in a closet,” Barney says stupidly, looking up at him. Damn, he was huge!

“Haven’t been in the closet for years, dude,” Gordon replies, shaking his head. As if to prove it, he leans down and gives Barney a kiss on the mouth.

It’s a bit gross, but Barney leans into it-- yet as quickly as it started, it ended. Gordon vanished in a burst of green.

-

“Security Officer Calhoun, please investigate…”

Another call for an “unauthorized” life form. Barney rubs the back of his neck, skin still flushed from the last incidents. The kisses were nice. Gordon was nice. In all forms.

The light in the hall suddenly blinks. Barney freezes, looking around, whirling around at a shadow in the corner of his eye. He looks up and--

“Gordon,” he breathes, because what else could they be? A tall man clinging to the ceiling, clad in a battered HEV suit, piercing green eyes. Weird tentacle hair, but…

“Barn?”

The voice reverberates off the halls. With a whistle, Gordon jumps down, crouching in front of Barney. His hair writhes, lifting the guard into the air.

“I love you,” Gordon says, voice vibrating.

The kiss is ice cold, full of sharp teeth, but it leaves Barney feeling warm.

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

It’s a full house, bustling along, a wedding well underway.

“Red.” I hold up a bridesmaid’s dress, in black from the rack my mother pushed me towards.

“Black?” Red lifts a brow at me.

“It’ll be slimming for Gwen.” I grin at her.

Gwen shoves dresses to one side, glaring at me. Wanda and I laugh.

“Fuck you, bitches.”

“We love you.” I laugh, stepping between the legs of the rack, climbing over to her. Wanda follows, Gwen laughs. My hand lands on her small belly she’s growing. “And we love you.” I coo at her belly.

“Kiss ass.” Gwen snorts, Wanda joins in, cooing at our niece or nephew.

“Inherit aunties, right hook.” I whisper.

“Y/N!” Gwen laughs hard.

“Now that would bless by Satan.” We look over to see Clint joining us.

“Packman?” I lift a brow at him. “Joining us for some wedding planning?” Grinning at him.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Nodding his head slowly. “I was hoping to talk to you, boss.” He shrugs a shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

Glancing at the girls, they nod.

“We’ll go with the black.” Wanda nods. Gwen agrees with a nod, both moving to leave us.

“Now what could have you coming over here during wedding planning?” Smirking at him as we move to sit on the stairs.

He chuckles softly. “I’d say this is your last chance to trade up.” I laugh, bumping my shoulder into him.

“Thought you were just going to be my fantasy?” I grin at him.

He nods slowly.

“Mmm. I see.” I nod slowly, looking away from Clint, watching the movements of the house. People running, fabrics, planners, glasses, the girls, my mother, Frankie and TC all hurrying about.

“See what?” He swallows.

“You won’t be my fantasy anymore. I’m not your type.” I smile, looking over at him.

He scratches the back of his head. “Nah I’ll always have this love for you.” He sighs.

“Love for me like a sister.” Smiling at him.

He sighs. “Yeah, like the baby sister I didn’t ask for, ever. Didn’t really want. But got anyways.” We laugh.

“I didn’t sign up for two more brothers, you know.” I nudge him in the shoulder with my own.

“You know I’d kill someone over you?” He sighs, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nod. “Think Bucky beat you to that.”

“I’d save you a thousand times over, trade places with your bruised and broken body, to protect you. You know that?” He glances over at me.

“I never said thank you, Packman. For saving me.” I whisper softly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” He whispers.

Glancing over at him, I smirk.

He sighs, shaking his head.

“No promises. I’m a wild card.” Winking at him, making him laugh.

“No shit.” He scraps his hand over his mouth.

We sat there in silence for a moment.

“What do you need from me?” I ask quietly.

He smiles at me. “Don’t know why I thought I was going to have to explain anything to you.”

“I know you, Packman.” Shrugging a shoulder.

“Tell me you approve?” There’s a plead in his pretty storm blue eyes.

Nodding slowly. “We both know you don’t need my approval.”

“I do.”

“Packman,”

“I need it. I need your approval. I need to know you agree, think it’s a good match.” He swallows.

“It’ll be a national sad day when you announce it.” Smirking at him.

He softly laughs. “As Satan, as my baby sister, the reason we Saintz do what we do. As queen, taking over the table, boss ass bitch, I need to know it’s right.” Tipping his head he watches me.

“Well you didn’t have to force her to fall in line or worry who you Saintz are.” I laugh, Clint hangs his head, chuckling. “So she’s got that going for her. A little normal, maybe boring, but we can help with that.” I grin at him.

“That girl gang is going to be something out of nightmares.” He shakes his head.

“Bet on it, Packman.” I grin.

“I always bet on you, Sweets.” We grin at each other.

“Okay.” I nod.

He lifts a brow. “Okay?”

“She cheats or looks at another dude and I’m going to bless her.” Cutting my eyes to him. He grins at me.

“With your right hook?”

“And my knee.” Shrugging.

He grins, nodding. “Satan combo.”

“I approve, Packman.”

“Think the table will?” He wonders. “They weren’t keen on us bidding on you.”

Leaning back for a moment, I stood suddenly. “Come on, Packman.”

He stands following me. Passing TC I tip my head indicating for him to follow.

Knocking on the door, I push it open.

“Little Miss?” My father looks up at me stepping in. “Boys.” He nods to the two following me in.

“I need you to call a meeting.” I rest on the arm of a chair.

He looks from me to them. “Any reason?"

“Packman is bidding on Bobbi.” I explain.

“Congrats Barton.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Sir.” Clint nods.

“And you want to make sure it gets approved.” My father looks to me.

Shrugging, I tuck a foot up on the seat, my hands on my knees. “I’m putting my weight behind it, daddy. Bobbi helped save me that night, with Clint.” I nod.

My father swallows hard, leaning back in his chair. “And you want this to be your first movement at the table?”

“My life, for their happiness. I’m sure.”

My father locks eyes with Clint, before nodding.

“I’ll make the call, eight tonight.” He nods, grabbing his phone.

“We’ll be there.” I nod, standing.

“Miss,” my dad calls when I get to the door, looking back to him “you’ll be the first woman at the table, ever.” He swallows hard. A flicker of fear in his eyes.

Lifting my chin “I know daddy, it’s a good thing you helped birth Satan. Some old men don’t scare me. I fight boys, and my father will set anyone afire.” I smirk at him.

“Your soon to be husband kills people for you.” TC smirks.

“Imagine, what my brothers would do.” I smirk, shrugging.

“We’d burn the town down, Sweets. Blood on our hands for you is an easy choice.” Clint chuckles.

Looking at my father, I smile softly at him. “They tried to cut me down, I survived. That was their first mistake daddy.” My father smiles softly, nodding.

I leave the office, TC and Clint following.

--------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[allyvampirelass29]

A Shorter Way to Save Her

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

"Maggie, you've really done it this time, are you kidding me!? Just tell me this is a prank...... Hey you, Curlicue, she's kidding right.......?"

Vic McQueen and Maggie Leigh shared a glance, the purple-haired girl fighting her smile, but the fabulously florescent Mags, wasn't fast enough to stifle her snort with a cough.

"Yeah, we get it, you're a real crack up, Barney Fife, the name's Vic, okay, try to remember it? And no she ain't lost it, we're asking you for a favour."

"You're ASKING me to run a NATIONWIDE APB on a missing person, with no physical description, no last seen, not a damn thing to go on, except a lousy first name. Do you have ANY idea how many Allyssa's there are in the world!? This gaffe of hilarious proportions must be your guys' idea of a bad joke, huh? Pull one over on Old Joe, is that it? 'Fess up, was it Koalski or Maguire, put you two up to this?

"Joe, relax, okay?" Maggie sighed trying to calm everybody down. "I know it sounds crazy, I know we're trying to make bricks without clay here, but this girl is in real trouble, and she needs our help! It had been a huge risk getting Joe involved, Maggie knew that, and as dangerous as it was tangling yet another person she cared about in Charlie Manx's twisted web, he'd helped them catch a huge break before with that Wraith part in Denver, and with no leads, and dwindling time, stopping Allyssa Jane Doe from becoming the dreaded Mrs. Manx, was going to take all the help they could get. They'd done all they could with the impossible. It was time to turn to more conventional methods, to a force neither of them had ever really understood. The real, the possible, the police.

"Joe, please...... We're not asking for a miracle here, just something, anything you can do. Shake a few trees, rattle some cages, just help us find her....... before he does."

"I knew this was about that damned Wraith!" Joe sighed, frustrated. You girls need to give this up. Go to the mall, go on dates, live your lives! You're too young to be chasing criminal kidnappers, and too old for ghost stories. Charlie Manx is a myth, Kids, he ain't real, he can't hurt you. There is no Christmasland. There is no Santa Claus."

Maggie could sense the anger rising, coming off of Vic McQueen in waves, and she reached for her but it was too late........ Vic lunged, slamming her fists on the desk, rattling it, her eyes screaming violence. "Not real? Huh, WHAT a relief, Joe, GOD, that's swell!!! That means my boyfriend ain't dead, he didn't burn up alive in that damned car!!! Hailey's safe in her bed at home, instead of at the mercy of some sicko cautionary tale, her mother's alive, her freaking cat's alive, and I'm NOT fighting for my life, my sanity, my whole damn mind!!!!" She fumed, her eyes bleeding with pain, as the skeptical Sheriff was struck silent by her outrage. "You listen to me, you condescending piece of SHIT!!! Charlie Manx is real, Charlie Manx is EVIL, like you ain't even ready for, and unless you want to spend the rest of your career, watching mothers lose their kids, chasing your tail, because you can't wrap your head around anyone REAL being this damned effed up, you are going to help us get this girl, and save her from a hell, she ain't never coming back from........"

Joe stared Vic in the eyes, his expression hard, leaning over the desk, and in that moment Vic McQueen didn't care if she got arrested, she was so damn sick of Charlie getting away with actual murder, disappearing into a haze of obscurity, being written off as a Grimm Fairytale. Somebody had to SEE him, even if she had to make them see him. The devil was real, and he drove a 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith........

Vic didn't even flinch, glaring back at Joe, as he slammed a thick, red binder onto the desktop, never taking his eyes from hers, rifling through the laminated pages, and finally she glanced down at the whirl of pictures. "Do you know how many Missing Persons I have right now, just in the state of Massachusetts?" He asked, his voice low, emotionless, watching Vic's rage crack, as she shook her wildly curly head. "Ninety-two...... That's ninety-two mothers crying over their children, that's ninety-two people that ain't never coming home. How about the entire US, huh? Try, fifteen thousand, two hundred, and seven active cases. All of them, every one, with a full name, physical description, last seen, known associates, and still just as lost, as the mysterious name you pulled out of a hat. You want my help? Reach into your bag of tricks, there, and get me more information."

"Vic, can I talk to you a sec?" Maggie asked, calmly, and Vic reluctantly relented, scowling, as Maggie ushered her out of Joe's bland, depressing office, into the bustling police station.

"WHAT the HELL was that!?" Maggie asked furiously, clutching the purple velvet of her scrabble bag, raising her arms emphatically. "What part of, hey let's ask my friend, THE SHERIFF, for help, translated into you assaulting an officer!? Are you CRAZY!? We have a window here, Vic, a window that is about to be slammed shut in our faces!!! We don't have time for this troubled teen, fight the man, bullshit!!!!"

"This was a mistake, Maggie, I told you this was a mistake!!!! He thinks we're both freaking cracked, he doesn't believe Manx is real, let alone a threat, and he doesn't give a damn about this girl. Okay, yeah, maybe I got a little crazy in there, but somebody has to, Mags! One Manx has made my life a freaking Stephen King novel, okay, a She-Manx helping him grab up all these kids, that's only going to make things a hundred times worse!!! We gotta stop him, and we gotta do it now. I know I should know better, but have you tried asking the bag her last name?

Maggie's jaw clenched, her soft features hardening and she shook the bag in Vic's face clearly insulted. "Only about a THOUSAND times!!! Are you serious!? Do YOU want to try it!? Go ahead, be my guest, hell, keep it, if you think you can do better, but I just keep getting the SAME four letters over and over, and over. SPOILER ALERT, it's MANX!!!"

The silence spread between them, the lack of sound dispelling the anger, police officers passing by, shuffling papers, answering phones, trying to look busy as they tried not to wonder what had caught these two girls, and the Boss in such a stir. If they only knew........

"Mags...... hey, Maggie, I'm sorry, I get my mouth from my Ma, and I'm at the edge here, feelin' pretty desperate. Manx has taken everything from me, turned me into a damn basket case, I probably should have just stayed in that asylum, okay, because I don't even know what is real anymore....... But if I can save her, if I can stop him from doing the same, maybe even worse to this innocent girl, I gotta give it all I got......"

Maggie sighed, lowering her arm, and the bag, giving Vic a small, apologetic smile. "You're really living up to your name today, Brat, you know that, right?" She teased, and Vic smiled too, her eyes lighter, less intense. "Of course, I forgive you, Jerk, and I don't blame you, okay? We're both a little tense right now, and GOD, if we don't have every right to be!!!! There hasn't been a Manx sighting in months, couple that with being sleep-deprived from the night terrors, creatively spent from the search, add one crazy cryptic, terrifying message, it's a wonder we're not both in that creepy ass asylum!"

Vic snickered, still smiling. "Charlie Manx, making chicks crazy since 1885."

Maggie laughed, with a clever eyebrow raise. "You know it. C'mon, let's go back in, and at least try to play nice this time? I don't have enough money for your bail, today, Curlicue." She laughed again, playfully punching Vic's shoulder, as she turned her back around, towards the door. "Who knows, maybe your Dirty Harry moment inspired Poor Old Joe. We'll find a way to draw Manx out, and once he's proven to be flesh and bone instead of whispers and smoke, he won't be able to hide behind the guise of folklore anymore. The Bride of Chuck- I mean Charlie," Maggie snickered, "Might be just what we've been waiting for to take him down."

Vic stopped cold, her smile fading, snapping her chewing gum, as her eyes sharpened with razor focus. Holy Shit....... She grabbed Maggie's arm in a mad panic, her eyes widening. "Bride........" She whispered in barely a sound, her grip tightening. "That's it...... Mags, that's FREAKING it....... We got him."

Maggie cocked her head warily, confused, and more than a little freaked. "What's it? How do we have-? Vic are you, okay? Is it happening again, are you having another vision? Here........" She nervously looked around, hurrying Vic to a far corner, putting her arm around her defensively, her voice trailing off, as life in the police station continued to happen all around them, arrests, police investigations, parking tickets, all so mundane, while time itself had stopped dead for Vic McQueen.

Vic's smile returned, gripping Maggie's arm, her dark eyes crazed. "That son of a BITCH!!! Maggie, we did it, YOU did it! Don't you see? Our guy Charlie's getting married, and as much as I hate sayin' it, I know that SICKO, and if he's getting himself hitched, you can be sure as hell, he's gonna do it right. It's gotta take, it's gotta be legal, meaning........."

The colour drained from Maggie's mocha skin, her eyes wide with a wonderful, horrible realization. "Oh my GOD....... A license....... A M-Marriage License. We did it....... He just screwed himself, because we've got a name, an a-age, you can't be legally married unless you're......"

"Eighteen," Vic breathed, the gears in her head on overdrive. "She's gotta be at least eighteen, and somethin' tells me, that bastard Manx likes 'em young."

"Okay, think, let's estimate an age range here, let's say, eighteen to twenty-five. Maggie shook her head, tucking a stray violet curl behind her ear. "That cocky Christmas-Loving IDIOT, actually filed for a real world marriage license. Jane Austen wasn't kidding........ "We are all FOOLS in love........." We have got to tell Joe!!!!"

Vic nodded enthused, her grin smug, both of them, rushing back into Joe's office side by side, and Maggie, smacked right into him, as he cursed loudly and a lot, just barely able to recover the fumble on his piping hot cup of coffee.

"DAMN IT, MARGARET!!!!! Give it a rest, will ya!? I can't help you, okay? And you, I'd be really nice to me right now, Annie, I lock up little girls that get mouthy with cops."

"Sun'll come out tomorrow, Joe, but one more crack about my hair and my mean right hook's comin' out today."

"Joe! First off, don't be creepy it really doesn't work for you, and second, I need you to go through all of the Marriage Licenses from this month, every single state, that has the name Allyssa on them!!!!"

Joe stared back blankly, more confused than ever, slightly slack-jawed. "I'm sorry, did you just say........ Marriage License? What the hell- first this kid's kidnapped, and now she's getting married, well, which is it!?"

"Both, Joe, if Manx gets his way!" Vic snapped back, rushing behind Joe's desk to fire up the computer, pressing buttons.

"Hey! Knock it off! You ARE trouble, that's State Property, don't touch that!"

"I wouldn't have to, if you'd do your job, Officer, now how about gettin' on that database, huh? I'll say please if you want, or y'know other magic words."

Joe sank down, frustrated, in his office chair, eying Vic suspiciously. "I don't like this one, Maggie, she's a bad seed. Hey, I type your name in, Shirley Temple, any arrests come up?"

"Oh sure," Vic quipped back, her voice rife with sarcasm, leaning down to look at the screen. "Just the ones of my drunk old man, beating up on my white trash, batshit crazy mother, Go ahead, take a look."

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as Vic swiveled to smile at him, sardonic. Thought that might shut ya up, Mayberry.

"Right........ Is that Allyssa with one, "L" or two?" Joe asked firmly, typing furiously, deciding to actively ignore her snark for Maggie's sake.

"Two, "L's," and two, "S's," She shot back, still smiling. These guys were all the same. You take one look at me, and you see juvie stamped on my forehead, don't ya? I ain't the bad guy, here, but I'm sure gonna catch him.

Joe frowned, leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing at the screen, the name looking strange, all spelled out.

"You sure about that? That's a pretty.......... creative spelling........"

The word hit like a sledge hammer, shattering Vic's smile, the ice spreading through her body, crystallizing in her veins, as she shared an uneasy look with Maggie, both of them paralyzed by one singular thought, caught off guard by Joe's tragic word choice.

"Holy Hell........" Vic whispered under her quickened breath, so that Joe couldn't hear, her words frozen over with the fear that Maggie's expression was right now fighting hard. "Mags....... She's one of us........"

Maggie shook her head vehemently, purple curls dangling, banishing the thought, shooting a wary glance at Joe, to make sure he wasn't listening in. "We don't know that, Vic....... Don't go there. She could just be something shiny that caught Manx's eye."

"Yes we do!" Vic hissed back, insistent. "Think about it........ If I'm the most damned powerful Strong Creative in the whole freaking universe, would I go through all the trouble of yanking some Plain Jane, non-creative, nobody into my demon car, or would I make it count...... go after somebody with power, somebody worth taking and keeping, in that special, legally binding kind of way. There's a reason he wants her, Mags, and something tells me it's not just for her pretty face."

"No, no........ oh my god......." Maggie breathed, the icy chill infecting her next. She bit her lip, almost scared to say it out loud. "She's one of us....... She has to be....... A Strong Creative with a brand new power for Manx to exploit." She squeezed her eyes shut against the sinister possibilities. "Could this possibly get any worse!?

"Ladies, I really think you got the name wrong here," Joe called over his shoulder, oblivious to the reverberating revelation. "I don't see ANY Allyssa's from this month, not one "L," two "L's," or three. Nada. Maybe the Mary Poppins prop is past its expiration date, huh Mags?" Joe mused, chuckling. "You see, if I'm this incarnation of all evil, King of my cursed Christmas whatever, and I was wanting a woman, I don't think I'd go through all the trouble of filing a legal document. I'd just grab the little lady, and go!"

Vic walked coolly, over to him, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes defiant. "Look again, Joe."

"What? Did you hear what I just-?"

"I said, look again. You don't know this Joker like I do, okay, he's not your everyday, zip ties, and ski mask, ransom-seeking hoodlum, this guy......" Vic's voice got quieter, and she swallowed hard with disgust. "He's method. He knew her, he followed her home at night, watched her fall asleep. He manipulated his way into her life, got her to trust him, and then he took her....... All that time, all that effort, watching her from windows, he'd make sure there was no way out, a failsafe, a legally binding tie. Go back three months.

Joe's expression was grave, and he nodded with a solemn intensity, the chill in the air positively paranormal. Maggie reached out to grab Vic's hand, looking at her with sad, thoughtful eyes, not saying a word.

"It could have been me," Vic whispered, with a shiver, her voice strained, trying not to break with her emotion. "He told me I belonged there with him, that he was gonna ride high into Christmas Hell with me at his side, and make me those kids' mother, that I had disappointed them, some shit about not being pure. That Craig- Craig had ruined me. He couldn't take a Bad Girl to Christmasland, so here we are. Enter Plan B......."

"We're GOING to get this guy, Vic," Maggie whispered, fierce and determined. "His Plan B is going to mean his Final Destination, I promise. She's the key, this mystery girl is going to be the reason Charlie Effing Manx goes under, and never touches another soul. You sent that Son of a Bitch to hell once, Brat, and together, we can do it again."

"Holy SHIT........" Joe stared incredulous at the screen, rolling his chair slowly backward, blinking his eyes, but the impossible did not disappear, and he raised his finger, transfixed. "Holy Sh- Charles Talent Manx, and Allyssa Jolene Watkins. Filed three months ago, on July 5th 2019......."

A hush drowned the room, the silence deathly, and Vic groaned, annoyed. "You've gotta be FREAKING kidding me!!!! Charles TALENT Manx!? His middle name is literally TALENT!? God, I'm never going to hear the end of that one........."

Joe ignored Vic's outburst, his stare still fixed, thoroughly disturbed. "Bastard used his real name, and everything........ How did- How did you know?"

He turned slowly to Vic, and she gave him a sad, sort of smirk. "I told you......... Manx has been haunting my dreams, taunting me, taking, and torturing me for as long as I can remember. His madness has poisoned my mind, and he's going to do the same damn thing to her, but even worse, because he's going after her heart. He's going to wither it from the inside, until it looks like his, ruin her for anyone else. No loopholes, no escape, and she's going to become a fixture of that god-forsaken place. It's going to happen........ just like he's got planned. Unless somebody finds a Shorter Way to save her."

Maggie felt her body seized with the intruding fear, the biting phrase, landing like a slap to the face. "Vic! Vic NO, listen to me, it's TOO dangerous!!! It almost KILLED you last time, you can't! I won't let you do it! It's not going to take you to Christmasland, and if you use it....... He'll know."

"Good," Vic shot back, with a raised chin. "I want him to know it's me! Me comin' to steal back Christmas, comin' to break up this damn wedding. Consider it my RSVP! She seethed, railing against Maggie's impassioned protest. "Craig didn't DIE for me, so I could do nothin', Maggie, this is my shot to fix it, to do what I couldn't do before, and use my inscape to freaking save somebody, instead of wasting it, finding loose change. It may not take me direct, but it'll take me to where she lived, and why he took her. I'll get to know this chick, find out who she is, what she can do. He doesn't get to win, Maggie, not this time."

"If you think I'm letting you do this alone, you really should be committed," Maggie answered back, fire in her eyes. "If you're going to break up the happy day, and go blind in the process, because you're too damn stubborn, I'm coming with you."

"Mags, you can't! You know what happened to Craig when he tried to follow me over, it's too dangerous, this is my atonement, not yours, got it?"

Maggie swung her scrabble bag, back and forth, as it dangled by its purple string. "Look at this, Vic....... Do you think I was blessed or cursed with this bag, to pass the time with the world's most BORING game!? I can help you! You don't ALWAYS have to rev up your engine, and tear off on your own!!! Finding people, saving people, that us, that's you and me. Our purpose. Together....... And unless there's something you're not telling me, Craig wasn't a Strong Creative! I am! It let you bring me once, you have to at least try again!"

Vic gritted her teeth, hating that Maggie was always right. Here's to the girl, left holding the bag....... "You've got all the answers, don't ya?"

"Uh yeah, in the bag." Maggie smiled, her brown eyes luminous. "Are we doing this or what?"

"Fine, Mags, you can come. But remember, my inscape, my rules. Your eye starts bleeding, your stutter gets worse, or any other pay to play shit, and we're done. I mean it."

"Deal," Maggie smiled brightly, and then her eyes flickered, the light burning out, her features somber, wondering if Vic had been so distracted by Charlie's revealed middle name that she hadn't noticed something even more worrying about the other......

"Jolene," She said sadly, watching as Vic's eyes threatened tears. "Her middle name is Jolene."

"Yeah, I-I noticed......" Vic said softly, wiping at the corner of her welling eye with her thumb, taking a deep breath. "No way in HELL is that a coincidence........."

"Damn this guy knows what he's doing," Joe huffed, slamming keys on his computer. No driver's license on record, every picture on file, magically disappeared. It's like this girl......... doesn't even exist........"

Vic nodded, gritting her teeth again. "He's good....... But I'm better. In his twisted mind, Allyssa belongs to him now, to Christmasland, meaning he's got to get rid of any evidence she existed outside of his inscape. He may be immortal, but he's not infallible. He's going to miss something, slip up, just once, and I'm going to be the one to catch it. He's going to make sure she's got nothin' to come back to....... and I'm going to make sure she'd rather die, than stay.

[theangrypokemaniac]

Ma and Pa James's Second Biggest Fan (we plough a lonely furrow) continues to find Ma Jess's appeal mystifying, since everything about her is negative:

1. Signing up for Team Rocket suggests someone of a morally dubious character to start with, but the truth lies in the clothing, and she's in black!

Black!

It's code for her personality:

• Jessie wears white:

Pure, beautiful, innocent, sweet-natured, not really bad, dealt a severe hand in life but a fighter.

• Cassidy wears black:

EVIL!!! EVIL, EVIL, EEEEEEVUL!!! FOUL SIRENIC TEMPTRESS!!! EVIL HEARTLESS BITCH STEALING JAMES'S NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN WEEPINBELL!!!

Speaking of which:

2. She was Madame Boss's best agent.

You don't get there being kind.

To reach that standing requires hundreds of successful heists, and we aren't talking nicking gold bars. It's living things.

How many Pokémon do you imagine she stole with merciless efficiency?

How many children did she set upon, pinching every animal they had?

How many innocent lives did she ruin by depriving kids of the pets they loved, never to see them again, eaten away with the not-knowing and the false hope?

The glory of her reign ran on the fuel of blood and tears.

What fate do you envision awaited those Pokémon? It's not exchanging one master for another, it's entering slavery.

Jessie and James aren't the epitome of Team Rocket. They are minnows on the outskirts, despised and mocked by most of their fellow members. The actual group isn't particularly famous for prioritizing Pokémon welfare.

The preferable outcome is being handed out to agents to help catch other victims. Otherwise it's transformation into a war machine, forced to fight on and on to the point of exhaustion and death, no doubt tortured and tested on to boot.

What happens if they don't come up to scratch or are pushed for years until too aged and broken to be of any use? Are Team Rocket ready to pension them off to animal sanctuary?

As if. It's euthanasia or on to the streets to waste away, if not fed to the strongest first.

Ma Jess knew this and worse occurred thanks to her, yet paid it no mind, and felt not a single twinge of guilt in that time of service, then met her end trying to draw another Pokémon into imprisonment.

Some might say it was a case of what goes around, comes around. As her behaviour led to God knows how many Pokémon dying alone, leaving their loved ones to wonder and grieve, so in turn did she die alone in the snow, and Jessie had to carry on without her.

I'm not against Ma Jess, I neither feel like or dislike, but I don't understand how so many fans can happily overlook her murky past of inflicting pain, instead elevating her to a semi-divine tragic heroine, yet apparently Ma and Pa's heinous offences of not stealing and treating Pokémon well are beyond forgiveness.

3. It's the Red Ribbon Army! Save yourselves!

Jessie joined Team Rocket to follow in Ma's footsteps. James went with her. Both moved (upwardly in scale, downwardly in morals) from Sunny Town's gang of petty thief kids to a complex Mafia organisation stretching its wriggling tentacles around the world to crush the air from its lungs.

Why? Ma Jess's baleful influence led the two down that path.

Of course Jessie wants to copy Ma, how and where else can she feel close to her?

There's not even a grave to visit!

Rising in the ranks and Giovanni's favour is both to strike it rich and take her place, becoming Ma in essence. That would make her proud, which is all Jessie ever wanted.

What alternative is there? Stay with Chopper and Tyra forever, ekeing an existence pickpocketing and shoplifting, until mortality comes calling sooner than is welcome, or get loaded quickly and retire early?

James theoretically could've gone home at this point, but when it came to which angry redhead he preferred to beat him up, he chose Jessie.

He was henceforth obliged to go whenever she led, even if it meant following the ghost of her mother into the jaws of evil.

They have an excuse, but what was Ma's for getting involved?

However much they boast and revel in their wickedness, the motto proves the couple still believe themselves on a noble quest, despite everything to the contrary, and why?

Jessie isn't about to accept that Ma Jess, whom she's probably idolized as one of few people to love her and a role model of how a woman should be, was nasty or unpleasant. If she was in Team Rocket, it must be good, whatever the outer appearance.

Except Jessie and James are bad at being bad. They are not master criminals. All their plans fail, rendering them poor and starving in consequence. The inner circle of Team Rocket will always be barred to them because they lack the inner darkness it requires.

The joke is they flourish in any other occupation, whether that be Salon Rocquet, reporters, or flogging merchandise and food at the League. If employed elsewhere they'd be better off, but they have to stay because Jessie can't let go, or bear the thought she might be a disappointment to her mother's name. A different career looks unworthy by comparison.

What, so Ma and Pa have got no son because of Ma Jess? They just wanted him to be a gentleman!

If she hadn't set such a terrible example to her daughter she might have an increased quality of life, but then had she done so Ma wouldn't be dead in the first place.

4. Can't pick 'em can she?

What was it that first attracted Ma to Windy Miller? Does she go for the rustic charm, or the promise of a lifetime's supply of bread to feed the abundance of babies planned?

Don't do it, Ma! He's an alky!

Some birds are like that you see. It's the maternal instinct gone haywire. They find a local reprobate and somehow decide he's really a damaged soul crying out for love, the scapegoat of a cruel society.

He's not evil, he's just misunderstood!

This is why you get nutters wanting to marry the Yorkshire Ripper: they put his 'mischief' down to bad women mistreating his gentle heart, but they of course are devoted to his happiness. They can change him.

You don't know him like I do!

In their fantasy, under the influence of a 'proper' woman he'll transform in to a flower-picking hippie, but not too much, they still like him to be dangerously 'manly' (keeps 'em on their toes), then they can feel smugly superior and more truly female than the 'lesser' breed who failed to tame his sexy pashuns.

And if there's one thing Windy has in abundance, it's raw animal magnetism.

Stop it, Ma! You can't help those who don't want helping!

She put up with the boozing, the flour dust and his somewhat limited communication skills, but what really let him down was the company he kept.

Ever after she would insist Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub led him astray. That's firemen for yer.

Cuthbert? That name's died out.

Sure enough, some point after Ma Jess was stuffed up the spout, old Windy legged it back to Camberwick Green, like the rascal he is, and not a sweet penny piece did she receive in maintenance, the bastard.

At least Ma James got pregnant by a man who stood by her.

She wasn't married to Windy Miller!

Oh, you mean they were living over the brush? I see.

It's all in your head!

Do it my way, and we have Pa Jess. Do it yours, and we're back to a cavernous emptiness. Unless you can supply a picture of the 'real' (pffft) Pa Jess, this is the best available.

Anyway, 'Jessie Miller' just sounds right.

Coincidence? I think not.

5. She went to look for Mew dressed like this.

I could forgive it had she gone in her normal uniform, that's just whimsy, but to have made some effort emphasises that it's not enough!

Some part of her understood a mountain might be a bit parky out, but this was deemed sufficient coverage!

What happened?

She bloody died didn't she?!

6. Ma Boss points the way to doom.

Ma Jess was at least loyal to the mistress she served, but it was a wasted dedication. She squandered her life obeying a heartless virago who could cast aside apparently valued staff without a qualm, whatever thanks she owed them.

The millions Ma Jess accumulated for Madame are probably uncountable, yet she was so worthless that, when dispatched to the mountain, on her own, expected to catch a Legendary Pokémon, by herself, which many doubted even existed, and wasn't likely to come quietly, or put up with orders, but then didn't come back, Madame Boss allowed her only child to sink into poverty and the infamous 'care' of the State.

Everyone knows what goes on there. Entering a home has replaced the workhouse as the place of dread.

Jessie might have been killed or attacked and it didn't remotely concern Madame Boss, unwilling to spare a meagre fraction of her massive fortune to give the girl she made an orphan any comfort or security.

What did she matter? Her mother failed. Why reward that?

In her turn, Jessie became just as obsequious to an undeserving master, who went further than his mama and actively tried to murder her, and still she suffers to please him.

Team Rocket devoured her mother, and now it's swallowed her.

Oh, and Madame Boss got her way upon discovering Mew's fossil, so Ma Jess died for nothing.

7. This.

I'm not surprised Mew wouldn't go with Ma. She probably sensed the vivisection awaiting, and didn't give a toss about the avalanche in revenge.

Mew hasn't got where she is today falling for any old shallow promises from a stranger, thank you.

Suppose the mission had worked, with Mew caught and gift wrapped for Madame's delectation: what then?

Perhaps Mew's power, proving so impressive, would've pushed any cloning scheme aside, leaving Mewtwo unborn and Mew as the mightiest weapon. Or in greed Madame Boss demands more, and in arrogance the scientists promise the earth, the seas and the heavens.

Mew I could see subjected to some non-lethal form of dissection, just to understand how she ticked, that is if they could build the cage to hold her.

As they couldn't, and catching Mew was never a possibility, then Ma Jess's sacrificed herself on a fool's errand, which was obviously one from the outset. If Mew was easy to handle she'd have been captured long before now.

Either Ma dies, Mew's safe, but Madame Boss starts the cloning scheme anyway, or Ma's victorious, Mew is a tool of Team Rocket and the scientists have more sample to experiment upon. Mewtwo is still made, alongside short-lived creations and dozens of unseen freakish abominations preceding.

Now Mewtwo isn't what you call at peace with himself, nor has he received a particularly wholesome experience. One could think Ma indirectly caused that. Her branch of the project may have fizzled to cinders but she still played her role.

What would her legacy have been but to help bring forth the being that wiped out mankind? Where's the future for Jessie when there isn't one?

It's not her fault, but she died in the name of cloning a biological disaster, the creation of synthetic life leading to the destruction of it all.

8. Let's have a gander at Ma in the anime:

• Can afford rent.

• Can afford a tray.

• Can afford crockery.

• Can afford condiments to add flavour to food.

• Can't afford any actual food.

Something's wrong there.

I intended to include affording clothes too, but now I'm not so sure.

I never took Ma to be a brown-all-over kind of woman. At least she gave the fancy stuff to Jessie.

For years I've assumed she wore a brightly coloured jacket, but now I suspect it's a red one heavily patched up, because buying a replacement isn't an option.

Really old clothes are being mended with whatever can be salvaged from even more worn-out clobber.

Best agent Madame Boss has and she's practically living in her own filth.

Team Rocket takes care of its own, eh?

Oh no, let's not get a proper job, one that allows me to provide for my daughter and doesn't ask for my life. Let's stay in this one!

9. Look at Jessie's face!

By her own admission, being tricked into eating snow is the best thing that ever happened to her during an 'otherwise wretched childhood', to the extent she doesn't know it was wrong!

I don't hear Ma and Pa doing that. The only ice James got was an ice-cream sandwich.

What kind of infancy did Ma Jess give the girl for her to be nostalgic about almost dying of malnutrition?

If we say that's a foster mother as in the sub, it means Jessie's fondest memory is after Ma died, which is too brutal for me.

Yeah, thank goodness she's snuffed it.

You think Ma might have taught her not to eat snow! She left her so ill-prepared!

Consequently the sub version makes Ma Jess an awful creature, although I don't see why that Jessie would so desire to mimic a mom she apparently doesn't care about.

10. She's not even bloody here!

I have no picture to signify absence, therefore I must show whom she left behind.

Ma Jess is Pokémon's answer to Bobba Fett: background figure, barely involved, no information, dies early, yet became a fan favourite nevertheless.

If nothing really exists, what is there to like? Why are you contented weaving smoke?

When Rocketshippers put forward the manga as proof, the Anti-Ships used to insist that it 'didn't count' for being set in a 'separate universe'.

If that still goes, and only the contents of the anime apply to the anime, well then it's bye-bye to Ma Jess and Madame Boss, because they aren't real either.

I sometimes think that's true. However traumatic, would Jessie not have acknowledged her mother by now otherwise?

We grasp the characters all had two parents in a nebulous fashion, although not being real people means they don't 'technically' need them, but Ma Jess is the only one who vanished to be granted a face. Why is she then ignored?

She's briefly glimpsed in a passing scene of a single episode of the first series and is never seen or referenced again. The sub doesn't even have that. Where was the use in creating her if only to leave that thread of the tale billowing in the breeze?

We may decide her actions affect Jessie's but we're only imprinting assumptions. She might as well have remained unwritten for all that's made of her.

What we can glean doesn't bode well, irrespective of things left unmentioned.

Her one redeeming deed was dying, thus at least she didn't choose to abandon Jessie. We may presume she'd have stayed with her girl given the chance.

By my reckoning that puts her as Fifth-Best Mother Of Pokémon, behind Ma Brock, Ma James, Dame Ketchum and Ma Boss, in that order.

Then they're those who claim she never died, so she just pissed off like everyone else, rendering her devoid of a single positive quality.

This is the woman you sigh and agonise over for decades.

Ma and Pa are right there, man! Show 'em some love!

[laufire]

Top 5 Spanish TV shows

El ministerio del tiempo / Ministry of Time / The Department of Time

It’s about a section of the government that dedicates itself to protect the timeline, recruiting for it people from different times. T*meless plagiarized it, btw (and did so erasing everything that gave the original ~soul and personality, but that’s neither here nor there lol). I just… love it. Adore it. It was renewed for a 4th season, and I’m over the moon about it.

I basically love every character, but my faves are Irene (canonical lesbian, from the ‘60s, owns my heart), Pacino (’80s cop, late Ted, Hero, possessor of a Magical Healing Cock apparently), Velazquez (real life famous painter! And their sketch artist xD), Ernesto (silent badass type. Once almost killed Hitler), Lola (old employee, antagonist/frenemie, way too much chemistry with Irene to be straight if you ask me), and Salvador (the boss, first-class MOFO).

Aquí no hay quien viva / Nobody can live here

Comedy (tragicomedy?) about the inhabitants of a building in Madrid. They’re all The Worst in amazing, hilarious ways (there’s a more recent show that’s kind of a “reboot”/inspired by ANHQV, but they take it too far and I can’t watch it without wanting to strangle everyone, so).

Some of my favorites were Lucía (new tenant, rich girl, moves in with her non-rich bf and starts having trouble with the neighbors), Mauri (journalist, neurotic control freak, lives with his closeted bf), and Paloma (awful, awful wife of the community’s president; she’s the love-to-hate-her type). But seriously, everyone was a gem.

El Internado / The Boarding School

A couple orphans come to a posh boarding school under mysterious circumstances. This one is complicated to explain because it had a huge ensemble cast, and twists upon twists xDD. There were art heist, nazis, tragic family secrets, eugenic experiments, betrayals, ghosts… idek xDD. It’s the one I mentioned, where the roles of Ted and Barney from Las Chicas del Cable were reversed.

My faves were Amelia (the Tracy -even got to be a villanous Tracy for a while, which is rare, but happens sometimes in Spanish TV, weirdly-, died), Héctor (ex-Headmaster, literature teacher, the Ted’s mysterious tutor; played by the same actor as Mauri, btw), Roque (traitor, died), Iván (the Barney, Yon González), Julia (his LI, Blanca Suárez), Elsa (Headmaster, HBIC, died), and María (the Barney’s bio-mom, a sweetheart).

Élite

It mostly gets this spot for being the latest one I’ve gotten really into? It could change if I tried some of the ones I’ve meant to watch over the years (especially if I ever get around watching Águila Roja/Red Eagle -it’s about a medieval vigilante, and it has a rich villainous Tracy that I know I’ll adore *sighs*).

Faves: Nadia (late Robin, working class Muslim girl, judgy and amazing), Guzmán (late Ted, A Bitch), Samu (pilot Ted possibly turned late Ted?), and Omar (Nadia’s brother).

Los Hombres de Paco / Paco’s Men

This one comes with caveats, because sometimes I couldn’t stand the show: the main characters were just so, so dumb xDD. But I ADORED the Tobin. The only other characters I liked were the Ted’s ex-wife (the Tracy), and her girlfriend (and the ex-wife was killed on her wedding in one of the worst cases of Bury Your Gays I’ve ever seen :))))).

It was a weird case of late Tobin: the show was supposed to be a Ted-Daughter case, if anything (Paco and his daughter, Sara), but Sara’s love interest, Lucas, was played by Hugo Silva, so. They took over.

To be frank, I don’t know how I’d feel about the ship if I watched the show now, as opposed as to when I was 9-13, because there are some Issues. The ship would be an interesting case to analyze if the show had aired on American TV and gotten tumblr presence now, because like I say: Lucas/Sara was Robin x100, but it was All Kinds Of Problematic. He doubled her age, she started pursuing him when she was 15 (thought the relationship started later, especially the physical part, and it was always with seriousness in that respect. Which was surprising, because at the time -and until very recently- the age of consent here was thirteen, which. made for some disturbing moments in high school), his ex-wife was her aunt… so, yeah. Tumblr would’ve had an aneurysm with this one.

[joe-mazzello-archive]

The Strangers - Chapter One - Cold as Ice

A Joe Mazzello x OC fic

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, sexual references

A/N: Here we go, gang! Please please please feel free to send me feedback/questions/theories. I want to hear from y’all! Also I do technically have a playlist for this series but since each chapter is a song title, the playlist is a bit on the spoilery side so I’ll wait until after it’s finished to link it. Also sorry that Ben is accidentally Barney Stinson. I needed someone to balance out Joe.

Joe shifted in the cold leather chair he sat in. He couldn’t help but fidget as he patiently waited for the door to the office across from him to open. He looked at his watch. 4:32pm. He’d been waiting for over ten minutes now, hoping that somehow his punctuality would make the meeting to go well.

His eyes wandered to the plaque next to the door. Theatre Arts Department Chair was engraved neatly into the gold metal. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought back to a conversation he had with Ben a week ago, before the meeting had even been scheduled.

“Mate, the fact that you’re not already the department chair over that old geezer is beyond me!” Ben had all but shouted through the crowded bar, swinging his mostly empty beer bottle around wildly. “I mean he doesn’t do shit! He sits at his big desk doing fuck all and takes a huge check home every month! You’re the one who really runs that department.” Joe threw his head back in laughter.

“Well last time I checked, he’s still got the title and I’m still a lowly professor. But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Ben,” Joe replied before finishing off his own beer.

“You should just take that shiny gold plate off the wall and hang it next to your office. See how long it takes that idiot to even notice!” Ben countered before waving down the bartender. Joe noticed and pushed his friend’s arm down.

“I think we’re both done for the night, dude. Besides, you’ve been so focused on me you haven’t even picked out your prey for the night,” Joe teased.

“Ey! Don’t call the women I sleep with and then never call again ‘prey’! I’m offended you think so little of me, Joseph,” Ben argued, before turning to survey the room.

The conversation seemed so long ago to Joe. What had started as a rant about how the department didn’t have enough funding to put on the shows he wanted to do led to a discussion about how Joe hadn’t received a raise in years. Ben urged him to setup a meeting with the department chair. The next day he found himself sending an email to his boss, asking to discuss the plans for the department for the next term.

A day after that, Joe regretted ever hitting send. In his inbox sat an email reply from the grumpy old man himself.

Sure. My office, Friday 4:30pm.

And there he sat, outside that very office, his knee bouncing the messenger bag that sat on his lap as he rehearsed in his head what he wanted to say to the man.

Finally, the door opened and Joe all but jumped to his feet.

“Mr. Mazzello, come on in,” the man growled, his deep gravelly voice giving the impression that he had a perpetual sore throat. Joe shuffled into the large office, eyes glued to the floor, heart pounding. He cursed himself for listening to Ben. He’s rarely listened to Ben before. Why did he start now?

The old man grunted as he sat down, his desk chair that had been there since the department was built squeaking underneath his weight. Joe took a seat in one of the dusty chairs on the other side of the large wooden desk. Clearly this office rarely saw visitors.

As the old man adjusted his tie and glasses, Joe took a moment to glance around the spacious office. The off-white walls were bare except for a few certificates framed behind the elder man’s head. A small bookshelf sat off to the side, the shelves half empty, with only various binders and knick knacks cluttering the spaces. In the corner sat a tall filing cabinet that looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. The man’s desk was almost bare except for a laptop computer, a pile of papers, and one lone picture frame that faced him. Joe couldn’t help but be curious as to who’s face the chairman looked at all day long, considering the man had never married nor had children.

The room was the complete opposite of Joe’s chaotic office. Every bit of wall space in Joe’s office was covered in posters for previous productions, show programs, and framed photos of casts and crews from shows past. He hadn’t seen the actual top of his desk since his first year as a professor, every inch being covered in scripts and books.

“I believe you mentioned in your email that you wanted to discuss next term. If I recall correctly, I already approved next year’s season of shows,” the man said, his head cocked to the side as he stared at the young professor. Joe wrung his hands together as worked up the nerve to respond.

“Yes sir, you did,” was Joe’s simple reply, his voice shaky.

“Then what more needs discussing?” the man asked, somewhat incredulously. Joe took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.

“This past term, we ran into roadblocks when it came to our budget for our productions. We wanted to do things that weren’t realistic when it came to what funding we did have. So I dipped into my own funds to make those things happen. And as a result, we put on some of the best shows the department has ever done.” Joe suddenly found a burst of confidence, surprised at how assured his statements sounded.

“I was unaware of this. Did you submit for reimbursement? That can easily be arranged,” the man replied, his demeanor softening at Joe’s words. Joe felt the energy in the room shift; as if Joe was now in control of the conversation.

“I honestly don’t think that’s necessary, sir. What I am asking for is that you find more in the department budget for our productions, so we can make these things happen with nothing to hold us back,” Joe proposed, the quivering in his voice completely gone now.

The man paused for a moment, processing what had just been asked of him. He turned to his laptop, squinting as he began to mash at the keyboard. Joe sat frozen, his confidence beginning to waver as he waited with bated breath for the old man’s reply. After what felt like an hour, but was probably no more than ten seconds, the man turned back to the auburn-haired professor.

“Consider it done.”

Joe’s eyes widened and he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“Sir?” he squeaked out.

“I was extremely impressed with this past season. If you’re telling me you can continue to reach that level of quality and beyond, I see no reason to not expand the production budget,” the man continued. Joe couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, surprised at the response he had gotten.

“Thank you sir, we can absolutely do that,” Joe replied, nodding almost too eagerly. The old man turned back to his laptop, typing away once again.

“I’m also going to approve a 10% salary increase for you,” the man added before standing up and stretching out his hand.

Joe mirrored his actions, getting up so fast that the blood rushed to his head. He took the man’s hand and shook it vigorously.

“Thank you, so much sir. I don’t know what to say,” Joe spat out, realizing that he was probably shaking the man’s hand too long. Joe released the chairman’s hand, realizing his own hands were jittery with excitement.

“No need to say any more, I actually have another meeting in a few minutes. Enjoy the rest of your Friday, Mr. Mazzello,” the man answered, sitting back down and immediately turning back to his computer, as if Joe wasn’t even in the room anymore.

“You too, sir. Thank you again!” Joe crowed as he grabbed his bag and moved towards the exit. The man didn’t even look back up.

It wasn’t until Joe was back in his own office that he truly processed everything that had just happened. Not only did he successfully argue for more funding, he got a raise without even asking. He whipped out his phone, pulling up his friends’ group chat.

Joe: I MADE THAT MEETING MY BITCH Lucy: You kiss your mother with that mouth? Ben: you got the funding???? Joe: AND A RAISE Rami: I have no idea what we’re talking about. Lucy: Babe I told you, Joe was trying to convince the department head to give him more money for shows. Ben: fuck yeah mate!!!! Bevs tonight to celebrate??? Joe: I absolutely need a beer. Or several. Rami: I’m in. Lucy: I’m there too! Ben: as the kids say, let’s get TURNT Joe: Please never say that again.

And that’s how Joe found himself bar-hopping in the city with his three closest friends. After closing out the bill in bar number three, Joe was starting to pass the threshold between tipsy and drunk. He debated about calling himself an Uber, pulling up the app to determine how much one would be. But suddenly his phone was ripped from his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing? The night is so very young, Joseph,” Ben slurred, locking Joe’s phone and putting it in his own pocket. Ben swung his arm around Joe’s shoulders. “We still gotta hit up Sully’s!”

“I’ve heard that place is such a dive, Ben. Can we go literally anywhere else?” Lucy asked, swirling the last of her cocktail before downing it. Rami’s arms were wrapped around her waist while he slowly swayed to the background music playing through the bar’s speakers.

“How else are we gonna find a girl who’ll be interested in Joe?” Ben said with a shit-eating grin, squeezing Joe’s shoulder.

“Gee thanks, Ben,” Joe replied with an eye roll.

“Besides, an old mate of mine is one of the bartenders there. I’m sure he can hook us up with some free drinks or something,” Ben added, practically dragging Joe towards the bar exit. Lucy and Rami followed behind without further argument.

After stumbling four or five blocks, the group finally found the correct street. A neon red sign reading “BAR” hung above the door and the name Sullivan Street was etched in white letters on the window.

Ben led the group inside the almost full bar. Joe couldn’t help but scan the room, Ben’s comment rolling around in his head. Not that he had been actively looking before tonight, but it had been awhile since Joe had been with someone. Mostly because his work took most of his focus away. But with only exam week left before the summer began, Joe felt like he finally had time for something. Or someone.

His eyes darted around the bar as the group continued to follow the blonde Brit. Ben wove through the crowd to the stairs leading to the second floor. The upper floor was much smaller and definitely less crowded. A small bar with one lone bartender was tucked in the corner, while the room was littered with high top tables. At the back of the room was a small stage boasting an array of instruments surrounding a large drumset with the words Parkway Diner neatly painted on the bass drum.

Ben made his way over to the bar, the group close behind. The lone bartender’s face lit up as Ben approached him. While the two exchanged pleasantries and a handshake, the group took seats at the bar, Joe continuing to survey his surroundings. A female laugh rang out and drew his attention to one of the high-tops closest to the stage. The laugh belonged to a small woman with bleached blonde hair that she styled in a messy pixie cut. Her burgundy crew-neck sweatshirt contrasted against the sea of tank tops and t-shirts the other bar-goers wore. A shiny black color coated her nails; standing out against the pale skin of her hand that held her beer.

Joe watched as she clinked that beer with the three men surrounding her at the table. Joe was immediately intrigued by the woman, who almost looked too young to be in a bar. He watched as she pulled out her phone, glancing at the screen before shoving it back into the pocket of her black jeans. She raised her hand, seemingly signaling something to the men around her. They immediately understood whatever the message was, as they all simultaneously left the table and headed through a door next to the stage.

Joe suddenly understood. They were the band, and they had five minutes until their set.

But the woman remained, downing the rest of her beer. She turned and surveyed the room, almost the same as Joe had been doing moments before. All of a sudden, her eyes connected with his, and he found himself smiling.

But the moment was brief, as the woman just continued to look around the room, not even noticing Joe.

“Earth to Mazzello!” Ben’s voice rang out in Joe’s ear, pulling him from his trance.

“Sorry, what?” Joe replied, turning to face his friend.

“Gwil, this inattentive asshole is my coworker, Joe,” Ben said to the tall bartender.

“Pleasure to meet you, Joe,” the bartender greeted, stretching his hand out for a shake. “I’m Gwilym, but call me Gwil.” Joe shook the man’s hand, quickly noticing how much the bartender towered over him.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Joe answered before quickly turning his attention back to the high top by the stage. But the woman had vanished, forcing Joe’s focus back to his friends. “Is there a band performing tonight?”

“Oh yeah. Friday nights we have a seventies pop and rock cover band called Parkway Diner,” Gwil responded, wiping down an empty glass.

“They any good?” Ben asked, playing with a lime on the bar before Gwil swatted his hand away.

“Oh, they’re way too good to be playing here. Their drummer and lead singer is incredible,” Gwil replied before gesturing to the rest of the group. “Drinks anyone? First round is on me.”

Drink orders were taken as a distracted Joe’s mind couldn’t shake the image of the small blonde woman. He looked at his watch, hoping the five minute warning she gave the other men was up soon so she’d reappear.

As if on cue, the other bar patrons began to cheer as the woman and her bandmates entered the stage. The woman pulled two drumsticks from her boot as she found her spot at the drum kit. Joe watched her curiously as she fidgeted with a microphone that was at level with her face.

Before Joe could inquire more about the woman, a guitar riff pierced through the bar. The woman seemed unfazed as she joined in on the drums, the rest of the band following suit. The woman leaned towards the microphone, never missing a beat before singing out.

Now if you're feelin' kinda low 'bout the dues you've been paying Future's coming much too slow And you want to run but somehow you just keep on stayin' Can't decide on which way to go Yeah, yeah, yeah I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind

Joe was entranced by the woman. Her voice was beautifully raspy and harsh, perfectly fitting the hard rock song. She belted every note with ease, all while she drummed away. Joe found himself hypnotized by her passion as she performed, each note and drum beat piercing through him. He felt a tap on his shoulder and a glass of beer was shoved in front of him. He grabbed it, his eyes not leaving the stage for even a moment.

Now you're climbin' to the top of the company ladder Hope it doesn't take too long Can'tcha you see there'll come a day when it won't matter? Come a day when you'll be gone, whoa I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind Take a look ahead, take a look ahead, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Joe was completely blown away. The woman’s fervor in her performance was intoxicating; she played the drums like it was the most important thing she could ever do. But the thing that Joe was most affected by was the woman’s absolute joy as she struck each drum and sang each lyric. She smiled and laughed, seemingly losing herself in the music. Joe was almost jealous; he wracked his memories, trying to determine if he’d ever been that happy in his life.

Now everybody's got advice they just keep on givin' Doesn't mean too much to me Lots of people out to make-believe they're livin' Can't decide who they should be, whoa I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind Take a look ahead, take a look ahead, look ahead

She sang out the last lyric with such intensity, that by the time she stopped singing, Joe realized he had been holding his breath. The woman continued to beat the set in front of her, finishing the song by throwing her sticks above her head.

Joe hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had formed in front of the group until they roared with applause. Joe joined in, cheering and clapping for the performance.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding, Gwil,” Rami shouted over the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re the real deal,” Gwil replied before turning his attention to another patron.

The band played a few more songs for the continually growing crowd. Joe’s friends chatted away behind him, while his attention never left the stage. Despite the several drinks he had consumed since the night began, Joe felt sober as ever. He only knew one thing: he needed to meet the woman on the stage before him.

As each song ended, Joe prayed that it was the last, wanting nothing more than for the woman to return to her original high top so he could weave his way over to her. He wanted to be around her, hear her speak, ask her questions. He was so fascinated by her and he didn’t even know her name.

Finally, the desperate man got his wish.

“Thanks everyone, we’re gonna take a short break and be back in a little bit,” the guitar player announced through his microphone.

Joe’s eyes followed the woman as she squeezed past her drumset and the discarded instruments amongst the stage. And much to his delight, she headed right his way.

“Gwilly! The usual please,” the woman shouted before slapping both hands on the bar counter next to Joe, paying him no mind.

“Already got it ready for ya,” Gwil replied, handing her a mixed drink. “Oh, Mar, this is an old mate of mine, Ben. And these are his friends.”

“Gwil, you have a friend other than me? I’m proud of you, bud,” the woman teased before sticking her tongue out at him. Gwil flipped her off in response.

“I’m Lucy and this is my boyfriend Rami. You’re so talented!” Lucy gushed as she rested her hand on her heart. The woman chuckled before responding, the sound like music to Joe’s ears. He wanted nothing more than to make her laugh again and again.

“I’m Marley. And thanks,” she replied quickly before taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m Joe,” Joe added, unable to hide the huge grin that had taken up residence on his face. Marley simply nodded in response, seemingly uninterested in the group’s presence.

“Pleasure,” Marley responded coldly, turning back to Gwil and taking another sip of her drink. “Gwil, can you tell Paul the right amp is being weird again? I can still hear a tiny bit of feedback.”

Joe wanted her attention again, but the woman seemed more focused on the drink in her hand than anything else.

“Why can’t you tell him?” Gwil countered, pouring a beer for himself.

“He’s still mad I called him a cuntfuck, so he’s giving me the silent treatment,” Marley answered, before she downed the rest of her drink, slammed the glass on the counter, and headed back in the direction of the stage.

And just like that she was gone. The group was left speechless, with Joe caught up on the way she said “cuntfuck” so casually.

“Well she’s a friendly one, huh?” Ben sarcastically commented after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Yeah that’s Mar for ya. She’s a bit rough around the edges. Took her months of playing here to finally warm up to me,” Gwil offered.

“Is she single?” Joe asked, his own words surprising him. He had been thinking it, but wasn’t planning on actually asking it. Gwil let out a deep belly laugh.

“Good luck with that one, mate. Like I said, tough one to crack,” Gwil said, continuing to laugh.

Joe furrowed his brow, put off by the man’s laugh at his expense. So she was not the most friendly person at first. Big deal, Joe had met people like her before. He had students who put up the same walls. He knew that under her hard shell, she was full of passion. He could tell by the way she lost herself in her music.

Joe knew he had to be patient. He knew people like that needed time to open up, to be vulnerable. He didn’t want to “figure her out”; he didn’t want to search through her soul and dig up her deepest insecurities. He wanted her to offer herself openly, to trust him enough to let down her walls.

Joe chastised himself for only saying two words to her, feeling like he fumbled their first meeting. But he wasn’t going to let that or Gwil’s reaction deter him.

Marley. Her name rang through his mind as he watched her return to her spot behind the bass drum, effortlessly twirling a drumstick between her fingers. The familiar intro of “Roxanne” by the Police rang out through the room. Joe spotted an empty high top closer to the stage, the same table the band had occupied before their first set. He made his way over to it, weaving through the droves of people singing along, leaving his friends and the judgmental bartender behind. He leaned on the table, nursing his beer as Marley and the rest of the band played their hearts out. Joe’s eyes centered in on the fiery blonde, watching every flick of her wrists, every arch of her back. She finished singing the first chorus and flung her head to the side, letting the music dictate her movement. She bobbed to the beat of the musical break, turning to survey the crowd.

And for the second time that night, her eyes locked onto Joe’s. This time he wasn’t grinning like an idiot. He kept his eyes soft, but his face almost completely neutral. Her stare lingered for a moment, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips before turning back to the mic to start the next verse.

Progress, Joe thought. He only wanted to pique her curiosity in him, to even the playing field a bit. Marley had taken up so much space in Joe’s head already, he wanted her to wonder about him too.

The rest of the group eventually joined him at the high top as the night went on. Rami and Lucy swayed to the music and even sang along to some of the songs, with Ben more focused on the drunk brunette who had been hanging all over him for the past half hour. Every once in awhile, Marley’s eyes would meet Joe’s. Each meeting was like a duel, both parties challenging the other to look away. Joe won every time, having the advantage of not having to perform for a group of rowdy bar-goers.

After a few more classic seventies hits, the band finally finished their set to deafening applause from the crowd. Joe had to admit that Gwil was right about one thing, they really were way too good to be playing in a dive bar like Sully’s. Joe wondered if they played original music, filing that question away for when he actually got to have an actual conversation with Marley.

The three men each bowed while Marley simply gave the audience a half-assed mock salute before climbing off the stage and heading straight back to the bar. Joe stood up straight from the table, before an arm snaked around his shoulders.

“You ready to call it?” Lucy asked, resting her head against Joe. “Rami is seconds away from falling asleep. I think Ben fucked off somewhere with that girl so the three of us can split an Uber.” Joe glanced in the direction of the bar, the stools empty except for Marley, who appeared to be having a wildly dramatic conversation with Gwil.

“I think I’m gonna stick around, Luce. But thanks,” Joe replied, snaking his own arm around Lucy’s back to pull her into a side hug.

“Okay, text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead,” she added before peeling Rami off the high top.

“Will do.”

He patted his pocket and suddenly realized that Ben still had his phone. Well shit. He shook the thought from his head. He had more important matters to attend to.

Once the pair disappeared down the stairs, Joe began to make his way back over to the bar. He quickly downed the rest of his beer as he approached, giving him a reason to go to the bar other than the woman perched at it. Suddenly he was cut off by a hand landing on his shoulder.

“Hey, there you are. Where are the lovebirds?” Ben questioned, eyes darting around in search of the couple.

“They headed out. Where have you been?” Joe countered, shrugging Ben’s hand off.

“Oh you know, the bathroom,” Ben answered evasively. Joe then noticed the dark mark under Ben’s left ear and he suddenly understood.

“For fuck’s sake, Ben. Not even taking her back to your place this time? You just knocked it out in the bathroom of a shitty bar?” Joe teased, shaking his head.

“Hey, I offered, but the girl had no patience. I just gave her what she wanted,” Ben boasted. Joe rolled his eyes.

“What a gentleman,” Joe commented. “Can I have my phone back please?”

“So what are you still doing here?” Ben asked, slamming Joe in the chest with his own phone. Joe took the phone back and simply looked in the direction of the bar at the woman seated there. She was laughing at something Gwil had said, the sound carrying throughout the bar that was slowly emptying now that the show was over. Ben followed Joe’s eyes and understood immediately. “You trying to go for the drummer?”

“I just want to talk to her,” Joe admitted, his voice low.

“Well good thing your best friend is here to wingman for ya,” Ben offered, swinging an arm around Joe’s shoulders. Joe shrugged it off with a chuckle.

“Lucy is my best--”

“Shut up, let’s go,” Ben interrupted before heading towards the bar. He slapped his palms down on the counter, much like Marley had done before. He slid on the stool one away from Marley, giving Joe the opportunity to take the spot next to her. Maybe Ben did know what he was doing. Joe took his seat, briefly glancing to his right. He found Marley’s brown eyes glaring at him for a moment before turning back to her drink.

“Gwilym, another round for me and Joseph. The boy needs it,” Ben exclaimed. The tall bartender nodded before grabbing two glasses.

Joe pondered what to say to the woman next to him. He wanted to come off as cool and collected, not wanting to act like he was as engrossed by her as he truly was. He didn’t want her to think he was some slimy dude trying to get in her pants. He needed to establish himself as someone as intriguing as she was. Gwil handed him his beer with a nod and a knowing smile. He was onto Joe.

Joe pushed the bartender out of his head and leaned slightly in Marley’s direction.

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you’ve got a killer voice,” Joe offered, his own voice somewhat quiet so only she could hear him. He played the sentence back in his head. Was it too gushy? Was it too cliche? Suddenly his normal confidence when talking to women was disappearing. He was second-guessing himself. He found himself briefly glancing at Ben for his reaction, but the Brit was too wrapped up in a conversation with Gwil. He was on his own. Some wingman, Joe thought. But his trepidation was immediately sated by Marley’s slight chuckle.

“Eh, I don’t mind hearing it anyway. Thanks,” Marley answered, holding her drink towards him, almost as a peace offering. Joe smiled and clinked his glass against hers. They both took a sip of their respective drinks before Joe continued.

“It kind of begs the question, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?” Joe inquired, propping his elbow on the bar and his chin on his knuckles. Marley was unfazed by the question, giving a noncommittal shrug.

“Pays the bills,” she responded, fingers tracing the condensation on her glass.

“Why seventies music?” Joe asked. Marley finally turned to face him, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

“You are just full of questions, aren’t you?” Marley challenged. Joe was unsure if she was genuinely annoyed or just playing with him. He decided to take the risk.

“How else are we supposed to get to know each other?”

“Who says I want to get to know you?”

“Well you haven’t called me a ‘cuntfuck” yet, so I’m taking that as a good sign.”

Marley threw her head back with a cackle, the sound reverberating through Joe’s chest.

“Touche, random guy, touche,” she finally said, arching an eyebrow. “You haven’t been a cuntfuck. At least not yet.”

“I guess there’s still time,” Joe added with a smile. “And it’s Joe.”

“Right. Joe,” she corrected, unfolding her arms and relaxing a bit. Joe was now close enough to notice that her maroon sweatshirt had small white text across the front of it. Squinting to try and decipher it in the dim lighting of the bar, he suddenly recognized the words. The infamous “to be or not to be” speech from Hamlet.

“Shakespeare, huh?” Joe pointed out, nodding his head in the direction of the text in question. “A woman after my own heart.”

Another deep cackle. This one a bit more forced than the last.

“Not in the slightest,” Marley responded with a smirk, patting Joe’s thigh and turning back to sip her drink. The interaction was confusing, her words like a slap in the face but her touch warming every inch of his body. Joe couldn’t let himself get caught up in the moment. He had to keep the conversation going, or she’d lose interest.

“So do you agree with Hamlet?” Joe asked. Marley cocked her head, clearly surprised by either the question itself or the fact that Joe wasn’t discouraged by her rejection. Maybe both. She turned back to the man, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you asking if I agree that the concept of death is scary? Or if I agree that taking one’s life is the most powerful thing one can do the combat the shittiness of living? Because both questions are pretty heavy-handed considering we’ve just met,” Marley argued, leaning forward to emphasize her point.

“Would you rather I ask about your favorite color or whether you prefer Coke to Pepsi?” Joe countered, arching an eyebrow. Marley paused, eyeing Joe up and down and pursing her lips.

“I would rather ask you a question for once, oh curious one,” she finally answered. More progress. He had her hooked. “So. Joe. What do you do? You know, other than pester random women in bars.” It was Joe’s turn to chuckle.

“I’m a theatre professor over at the college,” Joe revealed. Marley smirked and nodded.

“Oh, yeah. That explains a lot,” Marley commented, before finishing her drink. Joe folded his arms this time, leaning closer.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Marley opened her mouth to respond, but Gwil appeared.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re closing up shop soon,” the bartender admitted, swinging a towel over his shoulder and handing Joe his bill. Joe glanced at his watch. 1:57am. He groaned, knowing his time with the woman was up.

“Well, this certainly has been...a conversation,” Marley declared, drumming her fingers on her thighs. Joe signed his bill with a smile.

“That it was,” Joe replied, before grabbing a cocktail napkin. He jotted down his number and slid the napkin towards Marley. She eyed the napkin with an arched eyebrow. “In case you want to banter with me again.”

Marley’s eyes flashed between Joe and the napkin a few times. Joe held his breath, hoping the bold move would pay off. After a few more seconds and another pursing of her lips, she snatched the napkin and stuffed it into her pocket. Without another word, she hopped off the stool and disappeared into the door next to the stage.

Joe finally let out the breath he had been holding, sliding off of his own bar stool. Ben nudged him.

“How’d you do? I’ll be honest, I was not paying attention whatsoever,” Ben admitted, as the two men began to make their way down the stairs and towards the bar’s exit.

“Yeah, I noticed. And I think it went well. I gave her my number,” Joe answered. Ben chuckled and shook his head lovingly.

“Mate, you’re supposed to get her number,” Ben countered as he pushed the front door of the bar open for the two of them.

“I figured she probably wouldn’t give it to me if I asked. So I put the ball in her court,” Joe said with a shrug.

A short Uber ride later, Joe found himself back in his own apartment. He sighed as he settled into bed, Marley still at the forefront of his mind. Everything about her was absolutely fascinating. She had a youthful radiance about her, yet she was hard and cynical. She performed with such love for what she was doing, but the second she was off the stage, she hated the world. Joe hadn’t met anyone like her before.

But for now all he could do was let his mind wander, and hope that he’d hear from her soon.

All he could do was wait.

--

Taglist: @hellysthings​ @queenspur​ @briarrose26​

[melkeyway]

Rowvember Day 8: Attention

Saints Row, Gwen (Boss), Johnny Gat, GatBoss, Gatlings

On Ao3

A/N: This directly follows the previous prompt ‘Doctor’.

Summary: Gwen has a special present in mind for Johnny.

“He’s going to love this,” Gwen giggled to herself as she wrapped up a small box up in wrapping paper. The infant that laid on the bed cooed in response. “You agree too, Carly?” Another coo. “Alright, all done. Come on, Sweet Pea,” she picked up the baby, who immediately cuddled into her. “Let’s give Daddy his present and then put you down for a nap.”

She walked into the living to find Johnny and their eldest daughter, Aisha, watching Professor Genki’s Super Ethical Reality Climax. She probably shouldn’t be watching it at the tender age of four but it was a lot better than that Barney shit.

“Happy birthday, babe,” Gwen said and kissed him on the cheek. She dropped the box unceremoniously onto his lap.

“The fuck…?”

“Open it,” Gwen grinned excitedly. She sat down on the arm of the couch. Carly dozed in her arms.

Johnny tore into the paper. He knew she was up to something; he could tell by her smile. He opened the box and took out the item. He stared at it for a few minutes. His eyebrows narrowed. She couldn’t be fucking serious.

“You serious, Baby?” he asked loudly, sweating a little, “You’re pregnant again?”

Gwen had done the same thing on his last birthday. Several months later, their second baby girl was born. “Take a closer look,” she struggled to keep a straight face, “While I put Sweet Pea down for her nap.” She got up from the couch and walked out of the living room.

Johnny took another look at the pregnancy test to see three quickly drawn lines. What the fuck? He wasn’t an expert on this but wasn’t there--- Fucking’a. “I’m going to fucking get her back for that!”

“Oooooh! Daddy you swore!” Aisha exclaimed.

Johnny chuckled and ruffled her hair. It was a miracle that her first word wasn’t a swear. “Your mom has a weird sense of humor. She---”

“She’s what?” Gwen asked, appearing behind the couch.

“Fuck!” He yelled, they laughed.

“I’ll give you your real present later,” Gwen leaned against the couch, “After we drop the kids off at your parents' place for the weekend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm, you’ll love it, I promise.”

“We’re going to grandma and grandpa’s?!” Aisha asked excitedly, “Really?!”

“Yes really! After lunch,” Gwen smiled, “Go get dressed.”

“Okay!” she yelled as she leaped off the couch.

“Don’t wake up your sister!” she yelled at the girl’s retreating back. “Who the fuck does she get her-”

“Plans, huh? Like what?” Johnny asked, interrupting her.

“That’s a surprise, birthday boy,” she teased as she walked around to the front of the couch.

Johnny grabbed Gwen and pulled her into his lap. He placed his hands on her hips. Gwen placed her hands on his shoulders. “You’re not even gonna give me a hint?”

“Nope,” the grin on her face grew even bigger, “Beg all you want, I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“Bitch, I don’t beg,” he lifted up his glasses to place them on top of his head, “Once I’m through with you, you’ll be beggin’ to tell me.”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Gat?”

Their faces drew near.

“Yes it is, Mrs. Gat,” he said in a low, husky voice.

“DONE!” Their daughter yelled in the hallway, “I’M HUNGRY!!!” Seconds later, the baby started to cry.

Gwen groaned and her forehead fell onto Johnny’s shoulder. “I thought I told her…”

“Don’t worry about. I’ll handle ‘em.”

“Have I ever told you that I’m glad that you’re my babies’ daddy?”

“Not since yesterday,” he gave her a mischievous smile, “Besides, you’re gonna need all the rest you can get for later.” He squeezed her ass before getting up from the couch.

“Ugh, you’re so fucking nasty.”

“You love it. You wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

[theundercovermarvelfan]

(Trying to get back in to writing by catching up with the Whumptober Challengefor @whumptober2019!)

Day Fifteen - Scars

Clint’s leg bounced restlessly under the table. He had been relieved to find a table in the back corner of the coffee shop, the fact that his back was to a wall being a comfort. His eyes flicked across the shop to wear he knew Natasha was sitting a strategic distance away. She had tied her red hair up into a ponytail and thrown a ball cap over top to downplay the easily recognizable feature. She had outright refused to let him come alone, but at least he had convinced her to give him some space. 

He drummed his fingers anxiously on the side of the still full coffee cup on the table. He had ordered the coffee out of habit more than anything rather than a desire to actually drink it. He was already feeling uncomfortably jittery as it was, he didn’t need any help in that department. 

Clint checked his watched… again. He was late. Of course he was late. Maybe he wouldn’t show up at all. Would that really be a relief though? Wasn’t it better to just get this over with? 

Clint lifted his gaze as the bell on the front door chimed. He sucked in a sharp breath. Barney Barton walked in, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. He sent a quick look around the semi-crowded coffee shop, and when he spotted Clint, a tentative smile crossed his face. 

Clint didn’t return the smile. 

Barney headed for the counter and ordered himself a black coffee. Clint watched intently as Barney dug deep into his pockets and shoveled a handful of coins onto the counter, carefully counting out the coins to pay for his drink. 

Clint straightened in his chair as Barney made his way over and slid into the seat across from him. 

“Hey, baby bro,” Barney said, making an effort to sound upbeat. “It’s been awhile.” 

“Yep,” Clint said flatly, popping his lips on the ‘p’ thoughtfully. “Been about three years, four months and eight days. Not since that time you lost your ass at that illegal racetrack and the bookie snapped three of your fingers.”  

Barney laughed uncomfortably, dropping his gaze. “Uh, yeah, yeah, not my finest moment.” He paused to take a sip of coffee. “I forgot how sharp that memory of yours is, bud.”

“Yeah, it’s a bitch sometimes,” Clint murmured on a heavy sigh. He fiddled absently with his coffee cup as Barney took another sip. 

“So, I caught some of that craziness in New York last year,” Barney said. “I was out in Arizona at the time, but it was all over the news. Pretty cool.”

Clint arched an eyebrow. “Cool isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe an alien invasion that just about wiped us out.” 

Barney laughed nervously. “No, I didn’t mean cool, I just meant… you know…”

“Why don’t we just get to it, Barney,” Clint said. “What do you need from me this time?”

“Ah, c’mon,” Barney groaned with an uncomfortable smile, shaking his head as he cupped his hands around his cup. “Don’t be like that.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be like that,” Clint snapped. “Because why pretend this is more than what it is. I’m not wasting my energy on small talk when the only reason you ever call is when you need something.”

“That was your decision, remember?” Barney shot back. “You’re the one that told me to get the hell out of your life.” 

“Because you tried to kill me!”

“I apologized for that!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Clint saw Natasha sitting up. Clint took a deep breath. 

“I’m not getting into this,” Clint sighed, leaning back in his chair and dropping his hands into his lap. “So, tell me what you need now or I’m going to take off.”

Barney huffed a heavy breath. “You know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Yes, it does,” Clint said firmly. 

There was a long, heavy silence between the two brothers. And then finally, “I’ve been doing some work out west. It’s basically--”

“I don’t want to know what the work is,” Clint said, waving a dismissive hand. “Just get to the point.”

Barney swallowed. “I just…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It was supposed to be a sure thing, but the dice just wasn’t rollin’ for me that night--”

“You need money.”

“--and I borrowed some credit to see if I could bounce back, but I swear those dice had to be loaded or somethin’--”

“You need money.”

“--and I swear I’ll totally pay you back, but I really need to just get my feet under me and this time I’m gonna focus and--”

“Barney,” Clint said sharply. “Just tell me how much you need.” 

Barney paused, biting his lip. “I’m down ten G’s, bud.”

Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Barney.” 

“I promise, it’s the last time,” Barney said, a note of pleading in his voice. “I mean, I gotta get my life together--”

“You would think,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “Okay, well, you know I don’t have that kind of money, right?”

“Yeah,” Barney said, shifted in his seat. “But… I mean… seems like you’ve got some pretty good friends now, right? I mean, the CEO of Stark Industries…”

Clint shook his head, exasperated. “I’m not asking Tony to give you ten thousand goddamn dollars so that you can pay back whoever it is that you ripped off, get back on your feet and then spend the next three years gambling your life away again.” 

“C’mon, Clint, we’re family,” Barney said placatingly. 

Clint snorted derisively. “I’ve got scars that beg to differ, big brother.” He spat the title as if it were an insult. Clint rubbed his eyes. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” Clint reached back and pulled his wallet out, counting out the cash he had brought specifically for this meeting and tossing it onto the table between them. “I’m going to give you seven hundred dollars. That’ll get you a cheap motel to live in for a while and keep you fed while you find a legitimate job. You’re going to get me the name and info for whatever mob boss you owe that money to, and I will see what I can do about getting him not to murder you.”

“It’s gonna be different this time,” Barney promised as Clint pushed himself up from the table, abandoning his untouched coffee. 

“I’m sure,” Clint said sarcastically. “Text me with that info. I’m not tracking him down for you.” 

“Thanks, bud,” Barney said, but Clint was already walking away. 

“He doesn’t deserve it,” Natasha said lowly, materializing a step behind Clint as he shoved his way out the door of the shop. “You keep on bailing him out every couple years, but he’s never going to change.”

“I know,” Clint said flatly. 

“So… why keep doing it?” Natasha asked. 

Clint sighed heavily. “I know family is just a word to him, something to use as leverage. But… I want to be better than that. I guess.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “You are better than him. You’re even better than me. I would have kicked his ass in a back alley by now.”

Clint huffed a laugh, a smile finally breaking onto his face. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind. Maybe next time.”

“Well, then,” Natasha said with a mischievous grin, “I can’t wait for next time.”