#I could totally beat essential oils in a fight

[charismabee]

It really depends on whether we're talking 'bottle of essential oils' or 'ANXIETY as a concept', but I'm going to go with a tentative yes

reblog for larger sample size :)

[major-mads]

100th Bomber Boys: Major Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal: Pt. 2

If you missed part 1, you can find it here!!

Following the Munster mission in October of 1943 that decimated the 100th bomb group, Rosenthal took on a leadership role among the men. With Egan and Cleven gone, the men needed someone they could look up to for strength and guidance. Even though the Münster mission was only his third, he and his crew were sent on a week's leave. Following their leave, the 100th was one of the first to bomb the capital city of Berlin.

The next objective for the 8th Air Force was to achieve total European air supremacy in order to prepare for the D-Day landings. Their job was to take out the Luftwaffe, starting with the factories and plants that manufactured various parts for various MEs and other German fighter planes. The introduction of the P-51 Mustang, a long-range fighter plane that could accompany the B-17s to their targets. These planes ended up changing the tide of the air war.

The Mustangs were taking out Luftwaffe planes at an astounding rate with small loss rates. This development led to the B-17s essentially being used as bait for the Luftwaffe planes to attack so that the Mustangs could swoop in and destroy the withering German air force. The Luftwaffe was losing its veteran pilots, making the force less lethal than it was at the beginning of the war.

(pg. 281: Don Miller's Masters of the Air)

In May 1944, two months after completing twenty-five missions with the crew of Rosie's Riveters, he took over the 350th Bomb Squadron of the Hundredth, whose morale and efficiency had slipped badly, and began to restore the unit to peak performance. "After the first Berlin raids, we had men who were banged up mentally, and a few of them didn't want to fly anymore. I told them they had a moral obligation to fly, and that I would fly with them. We were here to beat Hitler. I also told them that if they didn't fly they would be letting down friends who had helped to keep them alive up to now. The appeal to their pride and respect worked better than the one to their patriotism." Rosenthal knew that without group loyalty-the responsibility that fighting men feel to the men next to them - wars would be impossible. Gale Cleven and John Egan "gave the 100th its personality," wrote Harry Crosby. "Bob Rosenthal helped us want to win the war." In the end, however, Eighth Air Force morale improved markedly only when casualty rates declined. That began to happen in May 1944, after American fighter pilots had reduced the Luftwaffe's effectiveness. "We did the bombing-the dirty work," said Rosenthal, "We were the decoys, and they took care of the bad boys that had been beating us up. They were guys who made D-Day possible?""

In early May, the 8th took the war to synthetic oil refineries in Germany, knocking a major blow to the Nazi war machine. The Germans did not have much natural oil in their territory, and even when they invaded Poland in '39, they only had enough oil reserves to last the army, air force, and navy for a few weeks. With their addition of conquered territories, the shortage became less of a problem, but in a military that mainly used oil (instead of coal like the rest of Germany) any shortage was a problem. In response, they began manufacturing synthetic oil in hydrogenation plants using the Bergius process, named after its inventor, Nobel-Prize-Winning Friedrich Bergius (that I am not smart enough to explain). This oil was keeping the Nazi military going, and striking it made a huge dent in their war-making capabilities. Unfortunately, Gen. Carl 'Tooey' Spaatz's bombing offensive was put on hold to prepare for the Normandy invasion. This time, the 8th and 15th Air Forces would be bombing Germany's important industries in France.

It was the last week of May, and the time had arrived to soften the Germans up for D-Day. The plan was to hit the main points of German transportation in occupied France, including railroad marshaling yards in Northern France and Belgium. This was supposed to delay the enemy's ability to bring reinforcements, tanks, and other supplies that would be needed to fight the Allied invasion on June 6th. The offensive turned out to be a major success. "Allied heavy and medium bombers almost completely dismembered the rail network of northern Belgium and France, choking off the main supply channel that fed the German army (Miller, 2007, pg. 291)." Bridges over the Loire and the Seine were also smashed, "cutting off most of Normandy and Brittany from the rest of France (Miller, 2007, pg. 291)."

Then on June 6th, 1944, the 100th was tasked with bombing the German strongholds along the beachheads. They were not very successful, but their earlier missions were the things that made the invasion possible.

(pg. 294: Don Miller's Masters of the Air)

For nearly every Allied airman who flew that day, it was the greatest experience of the war. "I briefed the crews of the 100th," recalls Rosie Rosenthal, "and I had never seen such a reaction from them. They stood and cheered and roared. This is the day they had been looking toward. I led the group on the third bombing mission of D-Day, toward dusk. We had a rule. No one could talk on the intercom unless it was absolutely necessary-radio discipline. But as we passed over that vast armada and headed over the beaches, a member of our crew started to say a prayer for the people down below and we all joined in. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life."

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[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 65

Oh dear gods Sam what the sweet fuck are you doing? I mean ... "Matt has actual DRAGON HAIR!" Um ... what? Wait ... six foot THREE? I don't remember you being THAT tall, Samuel ... Oh, a Scottish accent? Here we go. Beat that, Sam. Liam: "You want direction? This is it. Give me fucking Scottish." Sam proceeds yo THOROUGHLY butcher his delivery in the worst way. Nice ...

The Third Seal has been opened ... O.O

Chetney Pock'O'Pea dice? Watch Travis' face INSTANTLY light up ...

Wow, way to send Marisha into total hysterical laughing collapse, Travis ... XD

Okay ... back to business as usual at the table. How long will THIS last, I wonder?

Orym: "You look different, Letters." No shit, right? That is gonna make any serious stuff REALLY HARD to get into the frame of mind for ...

Ah yes. The threesome ...

Wow, Laudna is getting REALLY worked up over this ... yeah, Bor'Dor has REALLY fucked her up. I don't blame her at all.

Oh yeah, it's true, Imogen was FRANTIC the whole time, Laudna.

YES!!! Ashton's onto something there. Unwind! Definitely! Just CHILL OUT!!!

Wow, Chetney is actually offering himself up ad a sexual release mechanism ... okay then ...

Laudna: "We have the Harness." Ashton: "Was that part of the sex thing?"

Chetney really is so hung up on the Angel fight, it's a little hilarious ...

Next moves, then? What's the plan?

What ARE Laudna's hands doing?

Wait, go to Zephrah? Right now? I mean Orym has a point, they need to check in on Keyleth ...

Imogen essentially calling Orym an object from Zephrah ... Ashton: "She's objectifying you."

The goat ... that exploded ... yeah ... poor Gerry ...

FCG: "Hey! I feel guilty! That's like a human emotion!"

A Plane Shifting key to the Feywild? Hmmmm ...

Eidolons! Yes! And the Map? Hmmmmm ... yes, pooling information, cool, they can do that now! Yeah ... and the Harness ...

Laura: "What does that mean?" Matt: "I don't know, we're all having a mild stroke right now."

FCG: "We've seen you ask nicely, and it's not nice." Ashton: "Well, we had shit to do."

Imogen: "Where are you going?" Laudna: "Wherever YOU'RE going." Awwww ... and then Laudna bursts into tears because she loves the corset so much. :3

Milo! Hey!

Oh yeah, Milo's magic ... yup, it's on the fritz a bit like with everybody else. And he's all kinds of WURED right now ... Ashton: "Were your meds arcane? I can't remember."

What's in the note? Seriously? Don't tease us, mate! Day and a half? What even IS THIS?!!! Whoa ... his HAMMER?!!! That's a big deal ...

That's true, Ashton in a good mood is just unnerving ...

Ashton: "I don't wanna be worthless right now. This is not a time to be worthless."

Telling Ashton about FRIDA ... and his reaction is ADORABLE. Wow, he is really just SO HAPPY for his friend finally getting what he needs ...

IS Ashton actually the smartest person in the group? I mean it could well be true, but still ...

Imogen and Laudna now? Oh, here we go ...

Oh for the gods' sake, Samuel ... that bloody flask ... XD

Back to Zhudanna's place! A genuine homecoming ...

Awwwww ... I love this old girl so much ... yes! Hugs! "I'm fragile!" :3

Wow, she's PAINTING now? Oh, that's so cool ... and she's GOOD too, clearly.

They're gonna go do her shopping, that's so sweet! Yeah ... cauliflower, potatoes, lemons ... TWO loaves of bread? AND lavender oil?

Making up ... awwww ...

Imogen: "Can I kiss you?" WHAT?!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!!

SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK?!!! IS IT HAPPENING?!!! IT'S HAPPENING?!!! IT'S FUCKING HAPPENING!!!

Laudna: "I don't think you realise how much of an anchor you are for me, and when you weren't there, I was adrift."

ANOTHER kiss! Aaaaaaaah!

Yeah, Dead Girl needs healing BIG TIME for the Bor'Dor aftermath, and Imogen is exactly what she needs. Help her, Imogen!

Imogen: "He attacked you, first of all, so FUCK HIM." YES. "Power's very tempting. I won't judge you either way."

Awwwww ... gods they're both so adorable and I am SO HAPPY they're finally there ...

Oh shit ... who the fuck ... oh shit, tell me it's not ... LUDINUS, YOU FUCKER!!!

Yeah, this is totally giving me Masters of the Universe movie vibes from the Skeletor projections ... shit, and this crap is starting to SINK IN with some people? Fuck ...

Oh boy, dress shopping for Laudna, yay ... so cool ... and this is getting SO ADORABLE now ... Regency romance era? Awwwwwww ... that's so cute ... I'm sorry, blacks can CLASH?!!! How's that work? Victorian Spooky too? :3 Yes. Nice ...

Weave Piercer Gloves? Sweet ... Nice! Yes, Laudna can totally make that work ...

The Pate house! As a BACKPACK?!!! Awesome ... I love that so much ... yeah, Laudna's new look sounds FANTASTIC ...

On to Chetney, Fearne snd Orym ...

Ajit Daahl, hello ... yup, looks like things are different HERE too ... hmmmm ...

Here we go, Orym fills him in, then. Yup ...

Oh yeah, hello there, mister Platinum Dragon ... XD I love a good name drop ...

Crap, more magical prison escapes? Nuts ...

Ah, what does HE think is happening? Lovely ...

Eidolons? Oh yeah ... he doesn't know them? Fearne is ACTUALLY making an insight check? Whoa, WHISPERS?!!! Really?

Oh, he can point them to somebody to get a read on the old magic stuff? Hmmm ... oh, who's THIS?

Daramom? Okay ... wow, this dude is OLD ...

21? As if Orym COULD roll bad on a Perception check ...

The Harness has stumped him. Of course ... and now he's gone back to his soup ... XD

Chetney: "Anything else, Fearne?" Fearne: "No. I thought I was onto something, but turns out I ... wasn't."

Chetney's magnetism grows ... DAY BY DAY ... "Hey baby, this face is a curse."

Little kid: "Why is she so furry?" Fearne: "I don't know, why are you so hairless?"

They're being followed? Hmmm ... what ... the smell of MEAT PIES?!!! What?

Oh, so it's NOT actually a good smell? Okay, now I'm suspicious ...

And now it's making him HUNGRY?!!! A wisdom check? Oh shit ... and now he's GONE!!! Crap ... chase him!

A short cloaked man? With a pouch? Oh boy ... IT'S A TRAP!!! FUCK!!!

A net? Crap ... a SILVER NET?!!! SHIT ... Matt: "And that's where we're gonna go to break!" WHAT?!!! NOW?!!! AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

And we're back ... to riotous laughter ... yup ...

An elderly dwarven gentleman? Hmmm ...

Wow, Fearne just BLIGHTS him on the spot! Of course she does ... 31 points of damage? Ouch!

Dwarf: "It's just business." Fearne: "Fuck. Off. This IS my business." Matt: "Roll for initiative." Yeah, that's about right ...

Chetney's up first ... Blood Curse of Bloated Agony? Oooooooh ... and a strength check? 19? Okay ... WHAT?!!! That's NOT enough?

Orym slides under Fearne's legs and then comes in for a seriously sweet leg sweep ... oh nice! And a second one with his sword ... Nice again! Badass, wee man!

A "problematic cursed beast"? What the hell?

Even with the Bloated Agony this guy STILL gets a hit in? Whoa ... and now he's trying to drag Chet off ...

A silver warhammer? SERIOUSLY?!!!

A last kiss? Persuasion or deception? 26? Impressive indeed, Fearne! Stone Skin? Hmmm ... oh yeah, definitely, against the silver? Smart!

Mister! Yeah! Do something, monkey man!

Aha! Turmoil! But he's still all tangled up in the net ... Shatter? Okay ...

Orym flips onto his feet again and CUTS THE NET!!! And Chetney ... yeah ... 9 damage, but it's worth it. Not free yet, but getting there ...

Indomitable ... and EVEN THEN Orym fails his Wisdom save ... fuck, and now he's CHARMED!!! Crap!

Scorching Ray! Burn his arse, Fearne! Third level ... six D6 of fire damage ... 23? Oof ... and then Mister uses Fiery Teleportation to jump in and attack? Sweet!

Tuyen? Who?

AND they trashed the net! Nice!

The shopkeeper from the Prism Emporium? Really? So this is like some SUPER PETTY shit?

And now Chetney's invisible. Perfect. Shimmying into cover ...

He just Misty Steps away? Crap ...

Oh well, at least that's over with. But what the fuck was that even about? Oh yeah, the threat ... that's right, he did ... yeah, Chetney's not entirely blameless in this ...

So, on to the Duskmaven's temple in the Smoulder Spire, then ...

Well they're not locked up, at least. That's probably a good sign. In theory ...

Fancy looking priest, definitely ... quite friendly underneath that hood, too. Hmmm ...

"The skein is tangled, and the threads are knotted.," Hmmmm ...

Oh yeah, clearly they're having as much trouble keeping in touch with their god too. Hmmm ... but they do still FEEL her, so ... yeah ...

Drink the waters? Okay ...

It's very cold ... but refreshing. In a chilly way ... hmmm ...

Invisible Chetney slurping Holy water really loudly ... OH MY GODS ... XD

Sam: "Did someone summon a root?"

So ... they all gad some kind of weird subtle spiritual experience, then?

A DEEP RED SKY?!!! Crap ... Oh! Of course! It's some crazy vision ... okay ...

A period of MOURNING?!!! For who? One of the gods? Who?

Orym blessing his shield with the waters ... yeah, smart ...

Heading out again ... back to the others, then ...

Back at the Spire By Fire ...

Laudna's parading her new outfit and I don't blame her at all. It's adorable.

Pate: "Hey Imogen! I saw what you did!" Snitch!

FCG baked Laudna some goodies! Oooooh!

Laudna: "Wait, the meat pie ambushed you?"

So this means that Vax is still technically THERE, he's just trapped. Okay ... so then there's hope ...

Yes. Get to Keyleth, get her advice. Smart move.

Snd now FCG's trying to convert the others to his Changebringer faith ...

Chetney's still being alive is a miracle now, apparently ... XD

Oh hello, moody Ashton is back with a vengeance, it seems. "I'm here to save US." Yup, that's about right. "I'm not gonna pick a god. They can pick ME."

Laudna: "Why do I have to have faith in the gods? Can't I just have faith in all of you?" YES!!! EXACTLY!!!

Yeah, this really isn't going to be solved anytime soon ...

Laudna: "it sounds like the harness ... was harnessing ... fuck, I lost thd thread!"

Fearne and FCG BOTH planning on Scrying on Ludinus and Lillianna ...

Cool, so Fearne is like TOTALLY channeling through nature to find that big scary bastard now ... and finds NOTHING. Crap. No joy, then ... yeah, he's totally blocking any attempts, then ...

Meanwhile FCG attempting Imogen's mum, instead ... oh, okay, is it WORKING? Cool ... oh, the dream, the dust storm dream again! Okay ... yes! That's her! And somebody else ... oh shit! It's Ludinus! There he is! They're together! Where are they?

Holy fuck are they ... THEY ARE!!! THEY'RE ON THE FUCKING MOON!!! THEY'RE ON RUIDUS!!!

I love it. FCG's mind is blown because he's just received irrefutable proof that Exandria IS ROUND!!! XD

Yup, sometime they're gonna go to the moon. It's like a foregone conclusion now ... I can't wait ...

So rest, then to Zephrah, right?

Not enough charge ... crap ... okay, waiting an extra day, then. Never mind ...

Ashton's hammer has been UPGRADED?!!! Sweet ... so they've used the cavern crystals to turn it into a chaos weapon? Awesome ...

Orym tries to send a message to Caleb ... D100? Bollocks ...

Imogen Sending to Ira ... okay ... D100 again? Balls ... same again ...

FCG tries to Scry on him ... he's out there, but can't see him ... okay then...

Fearne tries instead ... oh wait ... oh, it's WORKING?!!! Wow ... trudging through a dust storm? A RED dust storm? Holy fuck ... so does that mean IRA'S on Ruidus too? Oh, there's someone else there too? Who is it?

Whoa ... so what ... was that a Reilora?

Okay. Sleep. Then Zephrah!

Right, charge the staff, then ... and ... here we go ... whoosh! All right ... mountains, trees ... a precipice? Yes, that's it ... yeah, they're there, definitely ...

The tree! Yay! And THIS is where Matt chooses to close the episode ... Nice. Perfect place for it ...

[bluerskiees]

Hii!!! Can I request a reader where the reader had just done surgery (like any kind of surgery) and after the surgery they're tired and everything and stressed out.

Characters included: Mikey, Angry and Chifuyu

Tokrev men reacting to your surgery :

[☁️]

🌬 Since there was no mentions of the era, I'm gonna assume it's toman era cuz that was the time these 3 were together <3

Having an accident in the middle of the night wasn't good. It's worse if you got seveal bruises and badly injured. What makes it even worse is when the doctors claim that you're gonna have to undergo a surgery with a success rate of 10% . How do you think the invincible Mikey and his gangmates Angry ( Souya Kawata) and Chifuyu would react?

Mikey

Would hurry to the hospital in his CB205T, breaking all the road rules known to ever exist to the history of mankind. No like for real, he's ditching his family, his friends, his work, his teammates, everyone. All for you. Would stay by your side during the surgery, holding your hand through it. Puts on a smile and gives of an "I knew the surgery was gonna be successful", but deep down he's still not over the fact that someone had guts to try to kill you. It all happened too quickly. Buys you dorayaki, ice creams and any other stuffs you'd like to have with you in the moment. He'd definitely ask his men to bring ur life sized teddy bear so that you'd be able to cuddle it and sleep peacefully no matter what <3. Hold your hand, runs ur head and whispers sweet words into your ear till you fall asleep. Leaves in the middle of the night to have a fight with whoever tried to kill you earlier. He had Sanzu obtain the informations for him when you both were in the hospital and Sanzu, being the loyal man he is, agreed to do it for his king. Would stay by your side no matter what till you get discharged because what if someone tries to do something again? No, he won't take any chances.

Angry

Would try to keep a calm facade but fails. Angry is generally known to care for his friends a lot. He would go through life and death if it means protecting you. But the only issue is, he's too nice. Too nice that he hesitates to beat up people. But dont let that fool you for when he feels his friends or brother is attacked by someone, he enters his typical " Crying Blue Ogre" and we both know how strong he becomes during that particular period. Its safe to say that thos fuckers who tried to hurt you wont ever be seeing the golden rays of sunshine ever again. He would also buy you lots of soft pillows and plushies to make sure you feel comfortable there. I feel like he's the type of person to infuse lavender or any other essential oil because vibes. Would sing or play any instrument for you to get better. Randomly hugs you, kisses your forehead and gives you nose boops >.< . Suspicious of everyone around you. The nurse, the doctor, hell everyone. Would check ur food before feeding it you. Yes he would definitely bonk your head with his hand or a book when you get too stubborn to eat medicines.

Chifuyu

Golden ray of sunshine was very worried when he heard the news. Immediately rushed to the hospital one he heard the news, not bothering to complete eating the yakisoba noodles he was eating. Losing keisuke already took a huge toll on him and he ain't letting anything similar happening to you too. He's usually a calm and composed person but thats all until you mess with any one of his friends. He's pretty strong, so he would take all punches during the beginning of the fight, almost as if he was loosing. But he's also smart and intelligent. Would probably calculate his opponents moves when he got hit. Would cuddle you down in the bed for hours whispering things he loves about you, how strong you are, how much u mean to him. And i swear, you could see the whole universe in his eyes. But behind every strong soldier, is a weak child. Would totally cry and scold you cuz what if something happened. But aside from that, he'd make you watch your favorite cartoons or shows. Buys you flowers and room fragrances to keep the atmosphere a little bit less hospitalistic. Visits you often in both the hospital and at your house after you're discharged. Yes he gave u a lecture after that.

[oooooocheshirecuntoooooo]

In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere ..... Oh the adventures we had with a hooker. All. Night. Long. 😂

It involves me, my husband, our 18 & 3 year old daughters, a cop and the hooker ... oh and a store clerk and her son. And for real. All night from like 12:30am to 7 am. And now I am home, but without the van and three of the kids didn’t make it home with us.

The following story is absolutely, 100% true. Although it’s not the kind of exciting you’re used to hearing from me, it’s still pretty bizarre. 😂

Just to give a little back story to help paint a clear picture .... So, we always go to my in laws for Christmas but we usually only stay maybe 3-6 days or so depending on how things fall together. This year we decided to stay through New Years because of some drama back at our home. My mother lives on our property and is mentally ill, and we’re pretty sure dementia is setting in. She’s never been an easy person to be around and we have always fought constantly but I have tried to take care of her anyway because she’s the only mom I’ve got, ya know? The last couple years though she’s gotten a lot more aggressive. In July she assaulted her doctor over the mask requirement and even had to go to court over it. Then in august she assaulted me, tried to choke me to death in my own home and in front of my kids. Of course I over powered her and forcefully pushed her out of my house, so yes she sustained bruises and such from that but that’s the extent of it. (She told all of Facebook in a public post that I beat her up every day and that kind of thing. She posts almost every day that she’s being abused, etc. Shes called the police at least 4times in three months. She tried to accuse me of elder abuse and even said I neglect and abuse my kids. Four times they have come out and investigated and not only said they see no signs of child or elder abuse, or anything to backup her claims. They talked to the kids and quickly agreed they were all fine too.

So fast forward to Christmas Eve. We were trying to load up the van to leave for our trip. We couldn’t hardly get it done because she was hounding us so much. When we were done I sent the kids to the car while hubby and I grabbed the last few bags. I blinked and she was charging toward the kids and yelling things at them like “you’re going to be a whore like your mom when you grow up. You wanna suck dick for a living?” And “I hope you die slowly and are alone and afraid for hours before you die.” The oldest child there that day was 12. And no, I’ve never worked in prostitution before. She began to charge toward me when I yelled at her to get away from the kids. Hubby told her to go back in her house and she wouldn’t. Kept coming toward us. So he pulled out his pistol, didn’t cock it or anything, and said again to go back in her house. So she called the police again .... 🙄

So we stayed longer trying to talk to the family lawyer and get a game plan. We’re following through with pressing assault charges so I can get a restraining order, and we’re filing for eviction. So we got all packed and ready to go and noticed liquid under the van. The power steering pump went out and the line busted all over everything. So that set us back another couple of days but we got the line and the pump replaced and tested everything and it looked good. It was late but we decided to set out anyway. We knew we’d get in late but the advantage to that was my crazy mother would be asleep and we could at least get in and unload the van in peace.

About 12:30 the battery light came on and we weren’t near ANYTHING. Somehow we made it another 20 miles or so until we got to a small town we’ve never stopped in before. We stopped at a gas station and barely got in the lot when it died. Hubby tinkered with some things and it looks like the alternator. Apparently some power steering fluid got in it when it busted but we couldn’t see that at the time, including the mechanic neighbor friend helping with it.

So we’re an hour and a half from home and totally stranded in the middle of the night with, thankfully, only two of our kids - the 18 & 3 year old. We make the calls for roadside assistance and I begin calling everyone I know that might can come help us. It’s freezing and none of us packed coats because it’s not usually this cold down here this early in winter. Hubby was wearing shorts even. So we take turns going in the store and sitting in the van with our things - there’s a large fully loaded cargo bag on the roof and a bike rack with two bikes on the back. Figured if we left it alone for a long time those things at least would disappear, essentially given the atmosphere of the place.

In all the moving around and the cashier asking questions and getting to know us and the situation we were in, this big eyed, buck toothed, scraggly little older, black lady who looked like she hasn’t bathed in years starts talking to hubby about what’s wrong with the van. He goes back to tinker with it often hoping he’s wrong about the alternator or that he missed a loose connection - anything that might help us get out of here l, if not home. I am watching cars like a hawk because you wouldn’t believe how many would pull in, loop the parking lot while staring at us and leave again. It started feeling like sharks circling and a feeding frenzy building up. So I’m on edge and I make sure the pistol is within reach at all times. So this little trashy lady keeps talking to him about the mechanics and trying to troubleshoot it. Lemme pain a more accurate picture: this spun out little crack whore was chasing the dragon, looking for it inside the oil reserve, the transmission fluid ..... she keeps pulling out the dipsticks, shaking them like a Polaroid picture and slinging fluids everywhere and then says “I think it’s your starter.”

No doubt she’s trying to hustle some cash and once even asked for some gas money when’s we see the car she rode in pull away and leave her there. She said it was her brother. After awhile, hubby has had enough. He’s usually pretty patient with people who are too fucked up to reach reality but this isn’t the time for all that. Not only is she a hindrance, she keeps snatching his tools and once even his phone out of his hands. I was in the car and I heard him yell “carry your ass already!” If he’s talking to even an annoying stranger like that, I know shit is hitting the fan. Me? I’m Irish. I would’ve done popped off at her which is why I was avoiding her completely. So I got out and joined him and started yelling at her to fuck off. She will take a few steps away and come back but she does finally go all the way back in the store, both of us cussing her the whole way. I blink and she back in his face again. She keeps saying random shit like “anything you can do I can do better” and “I helped you and you just turn me away. That’s not what the Bible says” and “God got me. I don’t need you. I pray for you”

I’m beyond pissed. I’m cold —- and I loath being cold — and I’m tired, it’s now like 2:30 or 3, I’m feeling vulnerable just by being broke down and especially with the toddler who can’t do anything to protect herself or understand what’s going on and who is extremely sensitive to any type of anger or tension (she cries hysterically when her siblings tickle fight or pillow fight and are laughing) and with all I’ve been dealing with with my mom lately I just have no give a shit left in me. So I jump out and say loudly “should I get the gun for you?” He said “it’s starting to look like it.” And I handed it to him and he put it in his pocket - more just wanting to communicate and it wanting to draw on her because that could invite charges for him potentially and we already have enough legal drama waiting at home. She slowly starts walking backward and keeps running her mouth. I forget what she said but she flipped my bitch switch again and I found myself screaming “Don’t make me cut a bitch!”

She said “what did you say?” And I pulled out my pretty pink and Pearl, large and extremely sharp pocket knife and extended the blade, “I said if you don’t carry your ass I WILL cut a bitch!” She nodded that smug kind of nod and kept going, “aaaiiignt”

The car that brought her there and left came back. She got in it and it left, stopped about 20 feet from the parking lot and she appeared to be forcefully shoved out from the way she rolled in the grass. But she goes walking the other direction so we figured she was gone. Meanwhile though in that amount of time I already dialed 911. The operator connected me to the local station and I spoke to dispatch. I kid you not, less than 60 seconds later an officer was there. We later learned he parks in a dark spot across the street of this divided highway. He even saw some of the commotion but couldn’t tell from the angle that it was heated. He tells us all about her, how she’s the local “hooker” / crack whore, along with her sister and mother. When I said we could tell she was drunk or inebriated or something he said, “more like high as a kite in with a jet pack!” I have seen a lot of people high in my years but I’ve never seen anyone act like she was so I asked, “On what?” He just shrugged “likely a combination of things. She’s a non discernment, equal opportunity junkie.”

Would you believe she showed up again while he’s talking to us? She tried to act like they were friends “hey! I know you. You’re married to my kin ...” He kinda yells at her and smirks “you a damn lie and you know it. I’m not even married.” Tim and I both glanced at his hands, his wedding band plainly visible. I got back in the van because my teeth are chattering so bad I can’t speak anyway. He puts her in the back of his car and talks to my husband again. He tells him he’s use to her and is going to take her to a relatives house where she goes when she needs to sleep it off for a day or two. He leaves and about 20 minutes later he’s back. Apparently he almost ran out of gas and he wanted to check in on us again. The jokes flew about how awkward that would look if he ran out of gas and was on the side of the road with the town hooker and all. He was a really nice guy and stayed with us most of the rest of the night. He said he got off at 7 and if we still didn’t have any help to give him a call, giving us his cell number.

So, at the same time I’m trying to get something done about the tow truck that needs to come get the van and find someone to come get us. The first wrecker — BROKE DOWN ON THE WAY TO PICK US UP! I was starting to feel cursed! The second wasn’t informed this would be a “long haul” tow and he only does local. Third times the charm right? Apparently so this time. He was a nice guy as well and took extra steps to keep the bikes and things secure on the trip.

We even had talked to hubby’s parents when we very first broke down. They were asleep but I was able to text my kids that stayed behind to spend another day or two with them, and they were coming up anyway to do some work on the property up here and file the eviction. So the boy, who will be 11 tomorrow, and the 12yo girl woke them up and told them we broke down. Apparently the 8 year old had already gone to sleep. His parents got up and talked to us and they were like, we’ll work on it and let me know what you find out. What the insurance company will do. So when the tow truck showed up, at 4:30, we asked if one of them could come get us because all the insurance company said was “MAYBE a supervisor could make an allowance for a Lyft or something like that but it didn’t seem a highly probable option. I realize we were 3 hours from his parents but they got up and stayed up from the first time we called and father in law could’ve gotten us and most of our stuff in the van and gotten us home, and him back to his house, before lunch and then slept or done whatever work he felt was more important than our safety. I’m kinda ticked about that. So we get what things we can’t live without immediately and head into the store to wait for a solution to arise, or friends to wake up! I was the last one going in and I was shivering so bad I dropped the things in my hands. I bent down to pick them up when two large shoes stepped in to my view, directly in front of me.

I stand up and then continue looking up to find the eyes looking back at me - a huge ‘cornfed’ red neck man who almost is convincing at appearing to be tough as nails, but I see the gentle kindness in him immediately. However, when he named the itty bitty, no red light havin’ isolated little farm town we live in I was flabbergasted. I actually stuttered and just made noise instead of words when I tried to respond. He even chuckled and playfully’ mocked’ me but was even kind about it. It was more like he got a kick out of how taken off guard I was. He said “Do y’all need a ride to (hometown)?” in that extremely slow, drawn out way the redneck Southerns do. In a minute I nodded and said “How do you know that?” I continued walking in the store as I spoke and of course he followed and opened the door for me. Hubby had run back and flagged down the tow truck before it left, remembering the car seat was left in it and that would be essential to getting us home. He had already talked to the man but j didn’t know that. In fact, in all the in and out that night hubby and my older daughter had told the cashier bits and pieces of the situation and it hit a point where she realized help wasn’t coming very fast and didn’t want to see any more trouble fall on us like with the oh so classy hooker we had already met. So she called her son, knowing this was the kind of thing he was always looking to do. He kept telling us that he just really liked to drive and it was no big deal and that he had time to get us there and back home before work even. After debating over it for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes hubby and I decided it was probably the smartest option. He usually has a pretty keen sense of a persons character pretty quickly and so does my 18 year old - although it still needs to be fine tuned a bit but that will come with time, maturity, and unfortunately, heartbreak. We felt like we had a read on the kind, older lady cashier too and she even said “It’s ok. He’s my son. He’s not gonna hurt you or anybody that doesn’t try to hurt him first.”, laughing the last few words out and the glances between them revealing some inside joke / event. So we went ahead and got in his little car - which was more like a jumbo Geo Tracker and I honestly wondered how he ever fit inside. It wasn’t the best looking thing, kinda shabby and needing a lot of TLC, but for us it may as well have been luxury. It was a diamond in the rough, symbolic of the man who offered to drive us an hour and a half to get us home, and then back, before he went to work that day. By the time we got him we knew his life story - 33 and already a survivor of the heart attack they call ‘the widow maker’. We instantly fell in and we’re good friends. By the time we got home - at 7am - we hated to see him go. Of course we had a little Christmas gift cash on us and gave him a little something for his trouble, especially since he wouldn’t come in and let me make him something for breakfast. As I hugged him bye I told him “I will forever call you ‘My Angel Michael’. He said, “Well thank you ma’am. It was my pleasure.” and with that, he drove away.

[helianthus21]

This thing got around again and i got inspired:

Your The Worst Part 2: Assholes on a Roadtrip

(AO3, ~1,6k)

Dean arranges the bottles of water and beer in the cooler before loading the whole thing into the backseat of his car. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sam stands with his arms crossed over his chest, looking down to his brother like the very picture of disapproval, signalling to him that no, this is definitely not a good idea, before Dean can even answer. “I mean, you guys basically just fight all the time,” he goes on. “Imagine that on an eight hour car ride where neither of you can escape when things get rough.” “We’re doing this, Sammy.” Rolling his eyes, Dean heaves the second duffel bag into the trunk, grunts dramatically at the unexpected weight. “The hell did you pack, whole ass bricks?” Castiel marches out of the house with a bag of snacks in his arms. Probably all rabbit food, Dean wagers gloomily. Good that he thought to hide his stash of beef jerky and M&Ms in his Baby long before Cas appeared with his own luggage, his own very wrong idea of a good time. “Just the essentials,” answers Cas crisply. Stretching his back, Dean eyes him, one brow raised to the line of his hair. “Uh-huh.” He moves, and the zipper of Cas’ duffel is opened before Cas can so much as let out a warning shout. “Cas,” he scolds, staring down at the infernal device that poses as Cas’ laptop. “We said no work on vacation.”

“It’s not for work,” lies the liar. “It’s for, uh, ‘watching Netflix’ in the evening.” He’s actually using finger quotes, the dweeb, as if there’s so much as a chance his idea of Netflix and chill is anything other than painfully literal. “Nice try,” Dean says. “This thing’s not coming with.” And he pulls the laptop out of the bag by thumb and forefinger, as if the merest touch could infect him with workaholic-itis and transform him into a bore just like Cas. “No, you don’t hold it like – give me the–” Cas dives forward to catch his dearest possession before Dean can accidentally let it slip through his fingers. Cas cradles the thing in his arms like a fragile baby.

The plan where the laptop dies a tragic, unexpected death foiled, Dean narrows his eyes at him. “The thing’s not coming,” he repeats with finality.

“Your thing is coming. I demand equality,” argues Cas, angling his body to shield the laptop from Dean’s contemptuous gaze.

“Yeah but my thing is the car that brings us places,” Dean reminds him, and he likes to think this line of argumentation gains him the upperhand.

“Your thing is a gas-eating deathtrap on four wheels.”

Dean narrows his eyes at him. “I’m gonna drive us places with shit to no WiFi,” he decides and nods, satisfied with his retribution. “You–” Cas begins, vitriol in his voice. But Sam interrupts his impending torrent of curses. “See, that’s what I mean.” He gestures between the two of them as if presenting the key piece of evidence in court. “I’m giving you guys two hours,” he decides. “By then I’ll probably be scraping one of your’s remains off some street in the middle of nowhere.”

Sam doesn’t get the relationship he has with Cas. He’d been totally dumbstruck when Dean told him that his asshole hospital roommate was now also his asshole romantic partner. He’d been seconds away from suggesting his head be scanned in case his leg wasn’t the only thing damaged in the car accident.

They’re like sprinkling oil into a kitchen fire, Sam says.

He doesn’t get that that’s exactly what excites Dean about Cas. Cas keeps him on his toes, keeps the flame between them alight, and Dean craves the way that makes him feel alive. With Cas, the grocery store becomes a war zone. Movie night a court case.

It’s fun.

It’s passionate.

And beyond all that is the way they understand each other. How Cas lets Dean take care of him in the gruff, understated way of his, and how Cas thanks him with his stupid snide remarks that do little to hide the softness around his edges. Sam knows nothing of the times Cas tries to cook meals for him that end up tasting like rubberband when Dean’s back aches too much from work to get back up from the couch. Or the times Cas nuzzles his neck like a touch-starved kitten as they huddle close in the afterglow.

Sam doesn’t get all that because Cas, for him, is stored in his memory as the rude as fuck patient everyone in the corridor was trying to avoid.

He’s mostly wrong, of course.

But he might’ve been onto something with the road trip thing being a bad idea.

***

They’re at each other’s throats by hour two-and-a-half. Dean knows because he checked the clock just so he can rub it into Sam’s face later that he was off by about half an hour.

The first mistake was for Cas to reach for the tape deck to forward to the next song or, god forbid, eject the whole cassette. Naturally, Dean has to slap his hand away before Cas can follow through with his evil plan. “Ow!” Cas complains dramatically.  Baby, Dean thinks. The hit wasn’t even that hard.

“Driver picks the music, Cas, them’s the rules!” Dean reminds him firmly.

“And the rules are laid down by whom again?” “By the driver, of course.” Cas shifts in his seat, impatient. “I can drive.” Dean scoffs. “Over my dead body.”

He feels Cas’ glare on him, hot and vengeful. “I can drive,” he repeats, and his tone allows no argument.

But he’s barking up the wrong tree. Baby is Dean’s territory, and he’ll defend it against anyone, even the one who gets him laid spectacularly on a regular basis.

“Babe, you can boss me around anywhere else. But here, I’m the authority.” He pats Baby’s leather gently to accentuate his point.

Cas narrows his eyes at him in a way that promises nothing good, but then his attention shifts, and he snatches something out of his veggie snack bag. His gaze turns to the scenery that flies by them outside, and Dean’s almost lulled into the false sense of security Cas set up if not for the smell.

“The fuck is that,” Dean demands, holding a hand before his nose.

“Tuna salad sandwich,” Cas replies with angelic innocence. “Organic.”

“A crime against nature, that’s what it is.” Dean fake-gags a couple times in the hopes of spoiling Cas’ appetite.

But Cas just turns a cool look on him. “With both my hands on the wheel, I wouldn’t be able to eat this,” he points out like the evil genius he is.

One miscalculation though – Dean’s been on hundreds of roadtrips like this with Sam’s burrito-digesting ass. So he just rolls down the window and, to Cas’ immense displeasure, endures.

***

It all escalates on hour five, when Cas points out, “We’re lost.”

Irritated, Dean shakes his head. “Nah, we’re not. I know exactly where we are.”

Cas is raising a brow at him, Dean knows that as a fact without even dragging his eyes away from the road. “Do you.” The dryness of his voice makes it clear how absolutely moronic Cas thinks he is.

His hand clenches tightly on the steering wheel as he grits out, “Yes.” Doubting his driving skills and sense of direction is the fastest way to drive him up the wall, and Cas knows it.

Like a highly disappointed wife, Cas draws out his sigh. “We should ask someone for the way.”

Dean steers Baby to the side and jams on the brakes so hard, they’re both catapulted forwards before the seat belt throws them back into the seat. Behind them, someone yells obscenities and a car honks angrily as it passes them.

Turning his head slowly, Dean says, voice dangerously low, “You did not just suggest that.”

“I did, in fact,” Cas says back, calm as anything, as if his heart isn’t beating like a jackrabbit against his ribcage from the unexpected halt. “And since you pulled up already,” he continues on this perilous path, unbuckles his seat belt. “We can now find someone to give us the directions.”

“If you step out of this car, Novak, I swear I’ll leave you in this godforsaken town and you can walk the rest of the way.”

Looking straight at him like a cat pushing a glass off the desk, Cas steps out of the car.

Dean takes a moment to gape at Cas, digesting the betrayal. “Okay, that’s it,” he says as soon as he recovers, and restarts the car. He doesn’t stay to watch Cas approach a helpful looking lady with a map.

***

Half an hour later, he pulls up at the small town’s only diner.

Cas is sitting inside. His booth’s purpusoley facing the door but his gaze is equally purposely focussed on his plate.

Dean slides onto the seat opposite him without a word. The waitress comes over and he orders a bacon cheese burger with chilli fries and a coke and waits for his food to arrive.

Only when the burger is placed in front of him and he’s taken a sip from his glass does he break the silence. “So, you know where to go now?”

Face unreadable, Cas meets his gaze. “We have to go back and take the second exit on the highway,” he offers.

“Good,” Dean says, taking another bite of his burger. “Good. I knew that.”

A small smile slips onto Cas’ face, there and gone again, but not unseen. “Of course.”

Cas orders apple pie to-go and hands it to Dean. Dean hands him the car keys in return. As they leave the diner, Cas hooks an arm under Dean’s and rests his head on his shoulder briefly.

They listen to Zeppelin as Cas leads them back onto the highway.

[remys-lucky-franc]

Sick - Queen of Thieves Fic : Nikolai x MC (Daisy)

Pretty fluffy - no bad language or nsfw - no trigger warnings

Shout out to my friends @ispookyloaf and @stopforamoment as this was a product of a silly idea on one of our fun chats 💕

Word Count ~2200 (couldn’t resist the sneezing cat gif 😂)

[[MORE]]

Remy scuttled out of Nikolai’s room with a frown and a worry-line stretching the length of his forehead. He rounded the corner to the kitchen as he ran into Daisy. She stepped back looking surprised as he exclaimed,

“Ma Cherie, you’re back!”

Daisy nodded,

“Yeah, glad to be home, was a long couple of days. Leon’s just bringing the rest of the stuff up from the car. Worth it though, think we have the mark’s movements down to a tee... Remy are you ok?”

Remy raked a hand through his thick hair and sighed dramatically,

“Non. When was the last time you talked to Niko?”

Daisy looked puzzled, concern creeping into her voice,

“We haven’t talked on the phone, but we sent some text messages yesterday... Is he ok? What’s going on?”

Remy shook his head, looking towards the heavens,

“Did he tell you he is... Unwell?”

Daisy’s eyes widened, as she stared towards the closed bedroom door,

“He’s ill?! What?! Since when?!”

Remy sighed again,

“Since yesterday. Daisy, it’s not pretty...”

Daisy raised an eyebrow, starting towards their room,

“Not pretty? What the hell’s happened to him?!”

Remy reached out, catching her arm to stop her,

“He’s in bed, congested, running a temperature! He can’t taste his food, he has a disgusting cough, a sweaty sheen-“

Daisy held up her free hand to stop Remy in his tracks,

“Wait. Remy? Are you trying to tell me that ‘Master of the Impossible’, Nikolai Stirling, has taken to his bed with ‘man flu’??”

Remy covered his face with his hands,

“Go! See for yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you...”

Vivienne breezed past, pursing her lips and commenting,

“Are you heading in there, darling? Good luck! I wouldn’t dare! He’s foul when he’s poorly, the only person who would brave going in there is Remy!”

Remy shrugged, a sad look flitting across his face,

“I take him his favourite soup...”

Daisy noticed his expression, but only barely, as she shook her head at both of them,

“You two are exaggerating! He can’t be that bad - plus he’ll be happy to see me!”

Vivienne waved a dismissive, if perfectly manicured, hand at Daisy,

“If you want some advice? Let him be, darling! He’ll emerge like a beautiful butterfly from his chrysalis in a few days time!”

Daisy tutted as she headed towards the door, Remy and Vivienne exchanged an awkward grimace as she gently knocked, edging it open, with a half-whisper,

“Nikolai?”

He turned to face her and Daisy tried to stop automatic recoil as she caught sight of him: Remy was not exaggerating!

“Solnishko, you’re back.” A faint smile crossed Nikolai’s face as he watched her step inside, his usually sparkling blue eyes heavy and puffy-looking as he pushed his way up into a seated position against the plush cushions, “Things went well?”

Daisy nodded as she made her way across the room, Elizabeth twining around her feet and meowing as she went, eventually Daisy perched on the edge of the bed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Nikolai’s head,

“I’m more concerned about what’s going on here? When did you start to feel like this?”

Nikolai waved away her concern, voice irritable but somewhat dulled and nasal,

“I’m fine, I had a particularly late night last night, that’s all.”

He tossed the covers back, readying himself to stand, only for Daisy to flip them back across his lap,

“Ohhhh no you don’t. You never sleep? You’re sick.”

Nikolai opened his mouth to protest, starting a second attempt to get out of bed but erupting into a kink of coughing as Daisy grabbed for a box of tissues from the bedside table. She smoothed his dampened hair back from his forehead easing him back into the soft pillows by his shoulders,

“Kotik, you’re sick. You don’t have to prove anything to me, please will you just relax?”

Slumping backwards into the soft bedding as Daisy kept a gentle pressure on his arms, Nikolai let out a frustrated groan,

“I can’t be ‘sick’. This is quite inconvenient, there’s still so much to do for the- ACHHOOOO!! Urgh. For the heist.”

Daisy tucked the duvet around his shivering form, smoothing his hair as she told him firmly but kindly,

“The heist is already ahead of schedule, I know you like to feel indispensable, but there’s literally nothing at this stage that the rest of us can’t do to keep ticking over for a few days until you’re feeling back to normal. Just please, stay there, let me look after you? Please?”

Nikolai didn’t vocalise his answer, he simply closed his eyes and relaxed his aching head against her hand, feeling too poorly to argue any longer.

Daisy murmured, “You’re burning up, just, stay put...” heading into the bathroom and swiftly returning with a cool face cloth, pressing it to his head as Nikolai hummed in appreciation.

“Did you take any medicine?”

“I don’t like to.”

Daisy frowned,

“You’re going to take two paracetamols. They’ll stop all this shivering. You’ll feel better.”

“But-“

“Nikolai.”

Nikolai attempted a sigh, that turned into another bout of coughing as Daisy headed back towards the kitchen, she was sure there was a collection of over-the-counter medicines in one of the drawers. Remy raised an eyebrow from his seat at the breakfast bar as she entered,

“Well, how is he?”

Daisy nodded firmly,

“He’ll survive. He just needs to rest for a couple of days.”

She rummaged around, locating the paracetamol, and pouring a tall glass of iced water, “And I’m going to look after him til he’s back on his feet.”

Remy shrugged his shoulders, smiling at her,

“Of course you will. That’s what you do. You’re his partner now, what’s that expression, ‘in sickness and in health’...”

Daisy swatted at Remy’s arm as she headed back towards Nikolai’s room,

“Firstly, that’s not an expression, it’s a ‘wedding vow’, and secondly, I don’t think when those were written they were intended to cover the common cold, Remy.”

Ducking out of her reach, Remy smirked, calling after her,

“Bonne chance!”

—-

Handing Nikolai the pills and the glass of water, she watched to make sure he actually swallowed them, before heading to the bathroom and returning with a vial of essential oils. Nikolai looked at her curiously as she dripped a few droplets onto his pillow. She took a deep breath in, wafting her hand, encouraging him to do the same,

“It’s menthol. It’ll help you breath.”

“I can’t smell it.”

“You will, eventually. In the meantime, here.” She pushed her iPad into his lap, “We are going to binge on Netflix until you feel better. None of your high-brow stuff, Nik. We’re going to watch something that you don’t even have to concentrate on. Easy watching, total trash. No arguments.”

Nikolai pulled a face as Daisy reiterated while she climbed onto the bed snuggling into his side, “No arguments. I’m in charge of getting you better, ok?” He stroked her cheek offering her a half smile as she pulled up the Menu.

___

Three episodes into Daisy’s TV trash of choice, Nikolai, despite himself had become quite captivated. He could feel his eyelids getting heavier, but was fighting the urge to close them, because he didn’t want to miss the drama unfolding onscreen...

Daisy could see him getting more and more tired,

“How about I switch this off and you doze for a little bit? I won’t let you dream.”

Nikolai forced his eyes wide, blinking,

“I’m fine, put another episode on, I want to see what happens to- Dear god what is happening to me?! Am I delirious?! Maybe I do need to sleep.”

Daisy smiled as she fluffed the pillows around him, dimming the lights, and in a hushed voice, she began,

“Soooft kitty, waaarm kitty, little ball offfff-“

Within seconds Nikolai’s eyes were wide again and staring in confusion,

“What is the meaning of this?”

Daisy shrugged,

“I thought you might like it?”

Nikolai closed his eyes, a perplexed wrinkle appearing in his forehead as he settled back down,

“You’re a very strange woman sometimes.”

Daisy squeezed his fingers,

“I mean, I don’t have to sing to you?”

Nikolai murmured, his eyes still closed, voice with a warmer edge to it than before,

“I don’t think anyone has ever sang me a lullaby before. I suppose it’s not completely terrible.”

Daisy beamed as she snuggled back into her snuffly partner, closing her own eyes and stroking his chest lightly as she hummed the rest of the tune.

—-

Daisy jolted awake, she wasn’t sure quite how much later, but quickly exhaled a sigh of relief when she realised that Nikolai was in a peaceful, even if he was softly snoring, sleep: there were no thrashing movements or strained facial expressions. He must really have needed the time to rest and heal his tired body. She touched his forehead - he felt decidedly less clammy than he had before. Grinning she decided that the paracetamol must have worked. Gently she ran her fingers over his cheek , murmuring his name softly until he started to stir. She’d promised not to let him dream, so she shouldn’t leave him asleep too much longer...

A faint smile crossed Nikolai’s face as he looked up at her,

“May I have my tea?”

Daisy’s jaw dropped, horrified,

“No, Nikolai! You can’t have your tea?! You’re not drinking poison while you’re taking paracetamol?! Absolutely not.”

Nikolai started at her indignantly,

“You’re being ridiculous. Anytime Remy’s looked after me, he’s brought me my tea.”

Daisy scoffed, one brow arched,

“I don’t believe that for a second! How about I call Remy in here and ask him?”

Nikolai opened his mouth to retort, but knowing her was beat he simply muttered about how ridiculous the situation was instead.

Daisy rolled her eyes, trying to change the subject,

“Hey, how about I get some more of the soup you love? I’m sure Remy would have made a whole vat of it. It’s funny, you know? I would have sworn you didn’t like mushrooms?”

Nikolai froze as Daisy looked at him curiously, confused.

He eventually broke the silence,

“Daisy, please don’t tell him, but I don’t. I’ve never had the heart to tell him when he’s been so kind as to make the soup for me. Remy is the only person who’s ever looked after me when I’ve been ill. Even as a child, my mother would ‘shoo’ me if I were poorly. My father would always say it was a sign of weakness and tell me to show some mettle.”

Daisy felt like her heart would break as she looked at him; the expression on his face looked like he was holding himself together, bracing himself against an unkind blow, but at the same time wanting to share something important to him. She reached out squeezing his hand, nodding in encouragement for him to keep talking.

Giving her a tight-lipped smile Nikolai continued,

“Remy has such a good heart. When I was first poorly, he asked me what my mother would make for me, back at home. When I said ‘nothing’ he was appalled. That’s when he started to make me chicken and mushroom soup, because that’s what his grandmother would make for him whenever he was unwell. I don’t like mushrooms, but I always finish the bowl.”

Daisy picked his hand up, kissing his knuckles,

“Even though you don’t like the taste it makes you feel better?”

Nikolai gave her a half-laugh,

“Exactly. Strange isn’t it?”

Daisy shrugged,

“Not so much. It’s not about the food, it’s about the feelings. That’s why they call it comfort food I guess? Do you want me to go get him to bring you some?”

Nikolai’s cheeks flushed as he nodded.

Daisy quickly smoothed his hair as she headed back to the kitchen,

“Remy?“

Remy lifted his head from a glossy magazine,

“How is the patient?”

Daisy, understanding that Remy had been looking after Nikolai for many years before either of them knew she existed, suspected that sharing the soup might warm Remy’s heart as much as being cared about warmed Nikolai’s,

“He’s ok. But I really think he needs another portion of chicken and mushroom?” She watched intently as Remy’s big green eyes lit up, grinning, “Maybe you could even teach me to make it some time?”

Remy enthused about his grandmother’s recipe as he busied around the kitchen of the penthouse heating a bowl for Nikolai, telling her the perfect type of mushrooms, which oil was best, how long to prepare the stock...

Daisy nodded as she repeated instructions and asked about ingredients, finally stopping and sighing,

“You’ve been making this so long, it could take years for mine to be as good as yours-“

Remy cut in, a look in his eye that said he knew exactly what she was doing, but choosing not to call her on it,

“Ma cherie, I’ll be here to help you! We can make it together! Or I can make the soup and you can snuggle with him until he feels better?”

Daisy beamed as she extended her right hand for Remy to shake on it,

“Deal! We’ll take care of him together. ”

Remy ushered Daisy back in the direction of Nikolai’s room as he placed the soup and a spoon on a tray, following closely behind her.

[bettertodayherbaldrop]

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[marginsofmarga]

Great Hope Amidst the Pandemic

As much as possible, we totally want to be in control of our lives. We take time to manage personal goals which are the big things to work for and accomplish such as receiving a diploma, getting married and having a family, starting our own business, becoming a big-time executive, or traveling the globe and such. These are essentially some of the things we want to do in life and in preparation for that, we plan. There may be small interruptions like atmospherical conditions, heavy traffic or sickness and we're used to it. But in an unexpected instance, in a snap, a pandemic called Coronavirus hit us by surprise and consumed us within months. Worst case scenario: it is a huge interruption everywhere with no specific vaccine.

Everyone has been writing on this and I don't know where to start. When I first heard about Coronavirus, there was a certain fear I felt as if my heart skipped a beat, wondering what repercussions it may create. By researching, I came to understand that it's highly contagious, attacks the respiratory system and no one is an exception especially the immuno-compromised ones. Knowing the fact that there is no cure for this disease heightened up my worries — for myself, my loved ones, my nation and the world.

The world is grippling with an invisible, deadly enemy. I had a feeling that it will be one heck of a ride. This pandemic got me feeling a roller coaster of emotions. I was not in my comfort zone. I had a lot of what-ifs. Before quarantine started, usual activities were still allowed despite having early cases in the country so I couldn’t help being paranoid at school, while commuting, while going to the mall and going outside with no choice but to be exposed to a lot of people which made me totally anxious and wonder "what if I get the virus" so, I did the best ways possible not to catch it. I sanitized every now and then, did limit interactions, took vitamins, used face mask and became extra careful when going out. After school, in the dorm where I stay, I really make sure to keep my health in check so I wash my hands, eat and sleep properly. Let me just say that living a little away from home sucks especially when there's a sudden global virus. I had to take care of everything myself. I was longing for security. I just wished I could go home.

There was a time back then when I really had a hard time sleeping that I fell asleep at 4 o'clock in the morning so it led to overthinking and unwanted panic attacks. Fears abound. Such uncertainty. How long will it last? What if I get sick since I lack sleep? What will happen next? Worries kept rippling because aside from these, there were school requirements to fufill, an overall health to watch and uncertain future to come so it was absolutely tough for me and took a toll on my mental health.

Days before ECQ was imposed, it was another day full of worries and not being in control. Classes were suspended due to more cases detected. So I packed my luggage, took a 1-hour ride to get home and finally be with my family. It felt good to walk into our doorstep but even if quarantine was imposed, oh God, my worries didn’t fade. Fear and anxiety were still present. During the first week of ECQ, I still got panic attacks and sleep issues. I was deeply overwhelmed. That’s why I willingly shared my thoughts to my go-to person, my mom. It's been a long time since I had a panic attack and that time, it was difficult to control and worse, even my sleep was affected. My mom would calm me down by helping me meditate with a bunch of essential oils and by staying present. I also talked over the phone to my Kuya who's in Manila and with other loved ones so it eased out my agony. Their words comforted me. Their company patted my back. I started to feel safe. I felt much better. I stopped dwelling on the negativity. I looked into the blessings which I'm really grateful for. I prayed to God. I consciously focused on the fact that I'm alive and I have a purpose. I knew I just had to shift my perspective. I started to heal. I started to pick up my broken pieces like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Well, there’s always a new day. The virus is still there, but no one’s stopping me from overcoming my fears and doing what I love. Let’s face life no matter what. Since I'm really a home person, I didn't bother much about things to do in quarantine. These are the things that kept me going while staying at home: I do love being active so after getting up in the morning, I would pray and think about the things I'm grateful for. After that, I would turn the television on, go to Youtube and do my usual workout routine (a good sweat releases endorphins). I also got to bake some goodies, learn to cook new recipes and get creative with my makeup looks. I also do household chores and binge-watch my favorite shows on Netflix right after. I even do some home photoshoot so I get to play dress up. Spending time with my family 24/7 is a major blessing I experience amidst the crisis. Every night, I pray to God and talk to him sincerely. Prayers are the best antidote and His hands are my safe haven.

These were some of the meals I cooked.

These were some selfies I took during quarantine as I get creative with my makeup looks to avoid overthinking.

Watching my favorite series, FRIENDS. A good laugh comes a long way.

With regards to academics, as a student and as a person, I was firm on my stand to push for mass promotion of all students. Considering the situation and ongoing threat of the global crisis, health is greatly at risk. I voiced out my opinion on social media. In my little way, I wanted to help those near around me to come to our house for internet access if ever mass promotion didn’t push through. Good thing my professors were considerate enough to pass us all even if the university didn’t go for mass promotion at first. Luckily, a new memo from our school’s administration came to a decision in benefit of the students. Mass promotion pushed through.

This is a screenshot of my Mass Promotion post where I voiced out what I felt.

Just yesterday, I received a bad news. It felt devastating to lose one of the best professors I had. We didn’t see it coming. He suffered from severe pneumonia and tuberculosis. He was one of the people who believes in me and appreciates my passion. He had expert communication skills and a strong work ethic. Not to mention his great sense of humor that kept every discussion in class fun. I have always admired him. I will surely miss Sir Guban. Heaven gained an angel. May he rest in peace.

This is Sir Guban, one of my best professors who just passed away.

Giving shape to time is indeed important now when the future is so shapeless. The pandemic is a whole new ballgame with new rules being created each day. We are challenged to let go of normalcy and face a new one. I know it’s hard to gain a perspective when you are in the middle of such uncertainty; to make sense of what is going on and how the future will emerge. But I have learned that I need to trust the process because eventually, it will unleash a better version of myself, a stronger one. As I began to reflect on the reality of such a virus and trying to contain it, it became clear that it says something quite wonderful about humanity. It says that we have the capacity to shift out of our comfort zones and to quite literally work together to save our lives and the lives of others. There is a tremendous hope for humanity being demonstrated around us. We can choose to walk through it lightly, with a little luggage, ready to imagine another world and ready to fight for it. Life may hit us hard countless times but I found out that it’s about finding ways to get back up again and moving forward despite the greatest obstacles.

Always wear your face mask, sanitize, be mindful and be safe.

This is a contribution to ComCo Southeast Asia’s “Write to Ignite Blogging Project”. The initiative is a response to the need of our times, as every story comes a long way during this period of crisis. Igniting and championing the human spirit, “Write to Ignite Blog Project” aims to pull and collate powerful stories from the Philippine blogging communities to inspire the nation to rise and move forward amidst the difficult situation. This project is made possible by ComCo Southeast Asia, co-presented Eastern Communications and sponsored by Electrolux, Jobstreet and Teleperformance.

[kenzieam]

Not Happening, Doll - Chapter Three (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, eventual smut, angst, slow burn)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt​​ @iammarylastar​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​ @notimetoblog​​ @captain-ariel-barnes​​ @bitsandbobsandstuff​​ @softlybarnes​​ @lovelybbarnes​​ @buckitybarnes​​ @bucky-plums-barnes​​  @moonbeambucky​​ @badassbaker​​ @citylights221​​ @empress-of-boujee​​ @chook007​​ @shynara51​​ @diinofayce​​ @casestudy-mw​​  @jewels2876​​ @damnaged-princess​​ @everythingisoverrated​​ @allmyfanficfaves​​  @clarabella960​​  @angryschnauzer​​ @wowspideyholland​​ @smilexcaptainx​​  @shirukitsune​​​ @cake-writes​​​

If I missed any tag requests, I apologize!!

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

*****************************************************************************

Levi and Bucky cannot stand each other (or rather, the former Winter Soldier cannot stand to be around the Avenger’s newest member and, like the ass he is, he won’t divulge why) and of course, they get teamed up for a new mission. It’s deep cover this time and not only do they have to work together, they have to pretend they’re MARRIED.

Heaven help them….

****************************************************************************

This is turning into a much slower burn than I thought……

***************************************************************************

The town looked quiet and Bucky was immediately suspicious. It looked too good to be true, too clean and when he voiced this, he was surprised to hear Levi agree with him, her gaze sharp as she navigated the wide streets, following the direction of her phone’s GPS. A few random people were out on their lawns or in front of garages with open doors, and they shaded their eyes and watched these newcomers, raising a slow hand in greeting that Bucky returned only after Levi hissed at him to.

The house chosen for them was tidy and neat, a large deck out front; cookie-cutter identical to the other houses on the street, different from its immediate neighbors only by color and choice of ornamental bush. As they looked closer, they noticed the startling incongruity of the front door, a bold red color.

“Think that’s a sign?” Bucky asked dryly as Levi parked in front of the garage. “They’ve already made us?”

“Well, you’re the one who wouldn’t wave.” Levi replied, perhaps even more dryly. Grabbing a suitcase from the back seat, Levi continued to the front door, fiddling with a set of keys she’d pulled from her pocket.

Bucky appeared at her side, waited until she’d unlocked the door and pushed it open before asking flatly. “You want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“Wouldn’t want you to get my ‘cooties’, Jackson.”

The ‘movers’ had been and gone; and boxes were scattered hither and yon, random bits of furniture in equally random corners. The house smelled clean but empty, not musty yet but definitely disused; Levi wondered if Jackass would object to her essential oil diffuser. Probably, asshat.

Bucky reappeared from outside, carrying the last of the ‘luggage’ and set it to the side. Rubbing a hand through his hair, grimacing as he did so, he glanced Levi’s way.

“Want to get something to eat first-“ he was interrupted by knocking at the door and a hollered ‘Hello?’

His grimace deepening, Bucky sighed and stage whispered. “Showtime.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Levi strode to the door and pulled it open. A Stepford Wife stood outside, updated for the new millennium but still a robot.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” She trilled, her spit glands showing in her joker grin.

“Thank you,” Levi struggled to remember her manners in the light of this artificial sun. A dish was shoved into her hands and Levi clamored for a nerve-racking beat, almost dropping it.

“I’m Tiffanie! The unofficial, official neighborhood Welcome Wagon! I saw the moving truck earlier and just knew you’d be here soon, so I whipped up a casserole for you!”

Her words died on her tongue and Levi was momentarily struck dumb. Bucky appeared, pulling Levi to his side and she leaned stiffly against him, fighting to look natural.

“Thank you, it looks delicious.” Bucky leaned over and inhaled the dish, flashing a panty-dropping smile at Tiffanie who all but cooed and swooned in return. “I’m Jackson Harper and this is my wife, Madison.”

Finally finding her tongue, Levi wrested the dish to one hand and shook Tiffanie’s. “Please, call me Maddie.”

“Oh, aren’t you just precious!” Translation: holy shit, this man is totally hot and you’re totally out of your league, Madison. “Do you work at the Company?” She continued, reminding Levi of this peculiarity she’d been warned of, the townspeople’s habit of referring to the corporation as if it was it’s own entity. Interesting.

“I do,” Levi answered and, in a movement she certainly didn’t plan and would spend the next few hours analyzing and internally shaking her head over, snuggled closer to Bucky, wrapping her arm around him. Bucky hid his surprise well, only a faint tightening of his fingers on her hip giving him away, but Tiff was too dazzled by his face to notice. “Jackson works from home.”

“Oh,” Tiffanie cooed, eyes roaming none too subtly up and down Bucky. She turned, keeping a coy gaze over her shoulder. “See you both around then.” She tottered away, throwing another look over her shoulder to make sure Bucky was still looking.

Bucky stepped away and back like Levi stunk and she shut the door before turning to face him, the casserole heavy in her hands. Bucky picked irritably at his left hand; lip curled in annoyance.

“Leave it alone.” Levi scolded. “The glove is delicate, remember?”

Bucky threw her a look that clearly invited her to fornicate with herself but he dropped his hand, flexing his fist with a grumble. Stark had furnished him with a lifelike skin-t0ne glove to hide his metal hand, but it was less than perfect camouflage and didn’t fit exactly, prompting Bucky to pick at it like a hangnail. It would do for long distances, but he probably wouldn’t be able to fool anyone if they actually grabbed his hand and looked closely.

Levi glanced once more towards the door and batted her eyelashes like Tiffanie. “You have an admirer,” she teased.

Bucky’s answering grumble was louder and he muttered something almost totally inaudible, but Levi thought it sounded like ‘not the one I want’. He turned and stormed away, throwing irritably over his shoulder. “Don’t fumble like that next time, I might not be there to save your ass. Remember your goddamn lines.”

Levi couldn’t help it and stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.

****************************************************************************************** “Hey, you home?” Levi called, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Where else would I be?” Came the flat reply.

“I don’t know,” Levi snarked, leaning against the doorframe and looking inside the guest room, now commandeered as Bucky’s ‘office’. “Maybe at the hospital finally getting that stick out of your ass?”

Bucky glowered briefly at her but didn’t respond and Levi snorted in frustration, pushing away and continuing towards the master bedroom, her bedroom

“Hope you don’t hog all the covers, doll.” Bucky grumbled, moving to stand beside Levi.

She glanced at him in mingled surprise and exasperation. After telling her to ‘remember her goddamn lines’ earlier, Bucky hadn’t bothered to say anything since, choosing to organize his ‘office’ like a bull in a china shop, swearing and muttering under his breath as he tried to make sense of the mess of equipment set up for him by the ‘moving company’. Some of it was for show, in case anyone ever wanted to see what a children’s book illustrator did, but most of it was uber-top secret; monitors and speakers and other such accoutrement to aid in their spying of the neighborhood.

Levi busied herself with organizing the rest of the house, making faces at some of the shit that had been chosen as their cover, including skillfully doctored and supposedly joyful wedding pictures; Levi and Bucky, no sorry, Jackson and Maddie gazing into each other’s eyes, dressed casual at their trendy beach wedding, sharing a kiss; posing on an empty country rood in cream colored fisherman’s sweaters and L.L. Bean Boots, the stereotypical ‘autumn’ photo set.

Thankfully, some forward-thinking agent had stocked the fridge and freezer, and with minimal burrowing, Levi found a frozen dish to reheat for supper. There was no way in hell she was going to sample Tiffanie’s casserole. It was probably laced with arsenic… or laxatives.

Bucky hadn’t commented beyond a grunt when she’d called him for supper, or rather, had poked her head in his ‘office’ and snapped ‘supper, asshole’ at him; and he’d been no more loquacious the rest of the night. Only once Levi started preparing for bed did he reappear like a damn whack-a-mole with his ‘don’t hog all the covers, doll’ comment.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Levi snapped. “You’re not sleeping in here with me.”

“Why the hell not? We’re ‘married’.” He made little air-quotes with his fingers.

“I’d rather have a razor-blade enema.” Levi growled. She pointed out the door. “The other guest room has a bed, sleep there; dream of Steve or Tiffanie or who-the-fuck-ever, just stay the hell away from me.”

Something flashed in his eyes, too fast for Levi to catch, then he whirled and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

“Anything interesting?” She called, pulling off her button-down shirt, wishing she could snap off her bra as well and fly free, but she didn’t want any snide comments from the peanut section, or even more strange, a long, silent appraising glance like she’d caught Bucky giving her every now and then. Still shirtless, she shimmied out of her pencil skirt and reached for a pair of yoga capris. Snagging a tank top, she headed back down the hallway, pulling the shirt over her head as she re-entered the doorway.

Bucky stared at her, his hungry gaze missed by Levi as the shirt temporarily covered her face, then turned blankly back to the monitor before Levi could see him ogling. She stepped in further and leaned close, eyes fixed on the monitor Bucky was himself trying to focus on. Her scent surrounded him, and he unconsciously held his breath, held in the involuntary moan that Levi’s proximity seemed intent on drawing from him.

“Not much.” He finally answered, staring directly at the monitor, his hand moved, tapping at the screen and bringing up a new feed. “Finally got one planted at 1411.”

“Good, the Kramer’s.”

“Yeah, whoever.” Bucky’s hand tightened in his lap and he cleared his throat. “What about work, you hear anything?”

“Not much, just the usual gossip. Did you start anything for supper?”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s after 5?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Levi snorted and pushed away; as she left the room, she threw over her shoulder irritably. “It’s not going to emasculate you, he-man, to enter the kitchen once in a while. This isn’t the Forties anymore.”

Bucky bit back an angry reply, embarrassed because Levi was right; he had dropped the ball today. After planting that elusive bug at the Kramer’s, he’d found himself caught up in daydreams as he sat in the office and monitored all the feeds. Dreams of Levi had stolen his attention, visions of her naked and glorious spread beneath him, straddling him and riding him like a warhorse; fuck, even just smiling at him the way she smiled at Steve. Jesus, it pissed him off, to be ensnared like this, a slave to his mind and body. She didn’t want him that way, and even if she did-

“Hey! Did you hear me?” Levi appeared in the doorway again, annoyance darkening her hypnotizing eyes.

“What?!” He snapped in return, focusing defiantly on the screen.

Levi sighed and there was such an edge of sadness in it that Bucky jerked his gaze up her, unable to disguise his concern as fast as he wanted to. But Levi didn’t seem to notice, and if she did, she didn’t believe it.

“We just got invited to a barbeque tonight, can you stand to be that close to me for a few hours?” The sadness was gone, replaced with a healthy dose of sarcasm and Bucky felt about two inches tall for making her feel that way.

He cleared his throat again before answering gruffly. “Yeah, sure… whatever.”

Levi rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. “Fine, be ready in 15 minutes.”

******************************************************************************************* As soon as they were out of eyeshot from the Hayden’s backyard, where the barbeque was still in full swing, Levi dropped Bucky’s arm like he was on fire. Stinging from the rejection, Bucky attacked.

“You managed not to fuck up tonight, good job.”

Levi took a full step to the side and threw him a dirty look. “You too, although I’m sure if you’d smiled at Tiffanie any wider, she would have dropped to her knees and blown you.”

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.”

“Madison, Jackson! Welcome!” Another Stepford wife trilled, fake lashes creating their own breeze with each blink.

“Alison, thank you for inviting us.” Levi replied, working to lighten her voice and force a believable smile. Bucky’s arm encircled her waist and he extended his other hand at the hostess, another panty-dropping smile on his face.

Alison giggled and flicked a gleeful glance at Tiffanie before shooting a coy glance at Levi, who smiled vacantly back as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that these two women were eyeing her man.

Levi was pulled towards a cackling group of hens while Bucky was dragged towards the suburban male equivalent and for the next hour or so, they were blessedly free of contact with each other.

“Maddie, how are you settling in?” Tiffanie cooed; eyes drawn once again to the direction Bucky had been taken. “Jackson seems to be enjoying himself?”

Hardly.

“It’s great here,” Levi replied, trying briefly to emulate Tiffanie’s coo and just as quickly abandoning it, she’d never achieve that level of vapid. “Y’all have been so welcoming!”

Y’all??

Levi was almost pulling out her geometric black bob by the time Bucky found her, the tightening at the corner of his eyes the only indication that he too was as thoroughly done as she was. A wave of relief, yes, that’s all it was, relief, flooded Levi as he moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear.

“Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“Yes.” She hissed back, lips brushing Bucky’s skin. His shudder of revulsion was unnecessary, however.

They managed to hold onto their smiles until they’d left the backyard, until Levi had pulled her arm away from his.

“Christ, I need a drink.” Bucky grumbled as he fumbled with the door key.

“You can’t get drunk.” Levi pointed out.

“So, it’ll be fun to try.” Bucky retorted, finally pushing the door open so hard it crashed against the wall.

“Whatever, live it up.” Levi grumbled, striding towards her room.

“Wait-“ Bucky reached out, snagging her arm, not even sure what he was going to say himself until it tumbled out of his mouth. “C’mon, it’s pretty pathetic drinking alone, stay up and have one too, huh?”

Levi eyed his hand on her arm before directing her hard gaze on his face. She studied him for a long beat, eyes boring into his before nodding stiffly. “Okay, give me a minute.”

Biting his lip to disguise his grin, Bucky nodded and moved into the living room, pulling open the liquor cupboard and selecting a bottle and two rock glasses. Levi returned, wearing pajama pants, a tank top and housecoat open over top and Bucky sneaked an instantaneous glance, taking her all in, from her graphite-grey pedicure to the cute little top-knot she’d managed to pull her hair into.

Grinning mischievously, Levi pulled something out from behind her back and brandished a bottle that Bucky immediately recognized, drawing a wide grin on his face.

“Where’d you get that?”

Levi had the grace to blush. “Might have ‘borrowed’ it from Thor’s stash.”

“Hand it over,” Bucky reached for the bottle of Asgardian mead and popped the cork, pouring two-fingers worth in each glass before holding one out for Levi to take; nodding her thanks, Levi accepted it and sat on the wide sectional couch, crossing her legs and leaning back into the sumptuous cushions.

Bucky sank down into the armchair opposite, resting one ankle on his knee and studied the amber liquor before taking a small sip. It burned in the best way.

“Mmmm, good.” He murmured, eyes flicking up to Levi, watching hungrily as she too took a sip, eyes closed in pleasure, head tipping back for a moment and smooth column of her throat open for Bucky to see. He looked away quickly as she opened her eyes, head dropping forward again.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” Levi asked quietly, picking at a cuticle.

“I don’t know… we haven’t really uncovered anything yet, just a few whispers, nothing concrete.”

“Maybe there’s nothing here to find.” Levi’s eyes were dark like bruises in her face.

“Or maybe we just need to dig deeper.” Bucky countered quietly.

They fell into silence again, staring reflectively at their glasses and Bucky was hit with a sudden compulsion to speak.

“Levi, I-“

Levi inhaled sharply, something akin to fear in her eyes. They flicked to the wall clock and Levi suddenly stood, setting her glass on the table with a loud clink. “I forgot; I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should get some sleep, good night Bucky.”

“Hey, Levi-“ Bucky began, standing and turning to face her retreating back but Levi continued down the hallway, her door shutting behind her.

Anger hit him then, abrupt and hot; what? She couldn’t even stand to be around him anymore? Fine, what-the-fuck-ever.

The glass creaked in his hand and heat flamed his cheeks. Why was he so furious, and why was he feeling so disappointed at the same time? Fine, doll. You want distance, sure.

[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back -- chapter 4

ao3

Life in Roswell seemed impossibly small when he was a kid with a ticket out, but even then he had no idea how boring it could be. Work on the ranch keeps his hands busy and soothes his soul; the Fosters have been good to him in a life where Michael can’t say that often. Still, though, his brain paces his skull like a circus tiger, coiled and starving. People don’t talk to you when you start sixth grade in clothes three sizes too big; people don’t talk to you when you’re twenty-five and day drunk on household chemicals.

Boredom’s gotten Michael into trouble more and more over the past eight years but agreeing to help plan Isobel’s wedding just might take the (proverbial) cake.

Four hours into Isobel’s book of fabric samples, he’s slumped in the corner of his bunk and wracked with a new respect for his sister’s choice of career. He groans, “Why do you even need an assistant? You’ve planned a million weddings. And this time you won’t even have to argue with people who are too dumb to know that you know everything.”

Isobel stops pacing and wheels to face him with her hands on her hips, a pale satin tie clenched in each fist. “Because a good wedding is the result of the competition between two forces: an idiot with a vision and me, who knows how to make it happen. If fewer than five screaming fights take place, I consider a project a total failure.”

“Iz, I’m not gonna fight you; you know I’ll just agree because I want this to be special for you.”

“Well, if you really want this to be the wedding of my dreams—” She fights back a smile, “—you can start by having an opinion between ash blue and periwinkle. Really let me have it.”

“Periwinkle is for dumb sluts.”

“That’s the spirit,” she says, tossing the ash blue tie into the reject corner with all the rest. “Excellent. With that done, we’re all set for you guys’ fittings next week. Is Friday okay for you? Max has a thing on Saturday.”

“Iz…”

“You’re sitting in the front row, so you don’t get to say no. And before you say anything at all,” Isobel sticks her palm in Michael’s face, “I’m paying for Max’s suit too. As if I’m going to let my own brothers make their own wardrobe choices on my wedding day. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Front row, huh?” An unexpected lump in his throat blocks the words, leaving them watery and weak. He scrubs at the back of his head as Isobel gives him an exasperated look.

“Of course. None of Noah’s family will be there, so we’re not having traditional attendants or anything, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still my maid of honor.” She reaches out and cups his cheek. Her eyes glisten bright, too.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Doesn’t need to; you’re already here. Dumbass.”

Michael gasps dramatically as she claps him on the cheek. Then Isobel goes back into action mode, taking a step back, straightening her shoulders, and tossing her hair back like they hadn’t just been thirty seconds from weeping openly in each other’s arms.

“Alright,” she says, “I’m off to put the fear of god into a pastry chef. I’ll be back tomorrow, though—next, you get to help me put the playlist together.”

She tears out of the lot, the same terror behind the wheel she was at eighteen. He watches her go, unease prickling in his guts.

He…doesn’t want to put together a wedding playlist.

He hasn’t had much to do with music in a long time. Mostly, it just hurts. It hurts to not even be able to mock the fingerings against his thigh. It hurts to think of musicians who never got to live their dreams. It hurts to hear about love, and it hurts to be that guy who turns off the radio because of an old flame.

Not that Isobel knows any of this. Just another secret under lock and key. He’s got a lot of those, in the form of a literal locked box among several boxes he keeps shoved in drawers and under things, stuffed in the hidden corners of his life. He pulls it out and sits in in his lap; he fiddles with the little padlock holding it shut safe.

It—it was never an actual dream he had, or anything. It never formed fully in his mind. They never even knew each other until it was already too late, even if they didn’t know it at the time. Helping Isobel with all the preparing, it—it shouldn’t be this hard.

The problem is. The problem is he kind of likes it.  Sitting shoulder to shoulder with his sister on his narrow bunk while she lectures him on fabric integrity and color theory. Comparing flower varieties until he fears he’s lost his sense of smell entirely. Eating so much over-sweetened cake it makes him sick. It’s boring as hell, and frustrating, and overly extravagant, and. He wants it. And he shouldn’t want it. Not while he’s half a murderer with a rap sheet as long as Max’s latest light reading. Not while the only person he’d ever ask could be dead already, and no one even knew to tell him.

With an old, resigned ache beating dully in his throat, he slips the lock and nudges the box open. Inside are the usual suspects—old institutional copies of a human birth certificate, a Social Security card, some emergency cash, the title for his truck, all beside a small stash of other things. As a kid, he’d been a bit of a magpie. Treasure always found its way to his fingertips—pocket-sized ones, in case he had to leave again. Beads and bits of embroidery thread; glittering stones and false keys. He grew out of the habit slowly after aging out of the system. He kept what kept his memories alive and discarded the rest. He runs his fingertips over the remnants, and they feel impossibly small. A single earring of Isobel’s, missing its twin. A button off an old jacket of Max’s that someone might mistake for gold. A necklace he found at a secondhand shop—two bullet casings and a chunk of quartz threaded on a ribbon—he’d meant to leave on Rosa’s memorial before Max looked at him with salt and sulfur in his face and told him to stop going before people started talking. And there’s—just one other thing.

He stayed a magpie when it came to Alex Manes; he kept an unhealthy number of trinkets in a desperate bid to keep him close. A stub of eyeliner pencil he found in the footwell of the passenger seat. A handful of chipped guitar picks dropped on the desert sand by clever, distracted hands. Hell, he even kept an old flyer from the UFO Emporium, just because he remembered it tacked on the glass of the ticket window the day they kissed in the dark. But nothing Alex left him belongs in this box of mundane essentials and things a desperate someone might think to steal. Nothing except the thing that was never his, and always was.

Michael started helping Sanders out on weekends and days off school when he was fifteen. The old man’s sight was going, and though he refused to admit it to even Michael’s face, he knew it was a good idea to hire someone on to pick up the slack. The yard was the closest thing to a haven Michael had—it felt good to work with his hands, no one would go looking for him there, and even if Sanders could be a real bastard, he never raised his voice or his fists around Michael.

Late on a summer evening, Michael was bent double under the hood of a tourist’s Mercedes, searching for the source of a weird clunk its owner started hearing from the engine after an oil change, when he felt something cool and smooth on the tip of his finger. With a little extraterrestrial assistance, he straightened up with it in his palm—a simple silver band, no adornment, no engraving.

Sanders laughed his cackling smoker’s laugh about people dumb enough to lose a ring inside a car; red-faced, the car’s owner swore up and down that it wasn’t his, never seen it before, he’d never do anything that stupid.

So Michael just…kept it. Carried it around in his pocket. Kept it in his glove box, took it out sometimes to look at it, put it in his lockbox once he settled down a bit.

Even at seventeen, he wasn’t that kind of romantic. Marrying Alex Manes didn’t start to cross his mind until…he can’t even pinpoint when it was, exactly, that looking at the ring started feeling like looking at his future, started feeling like it deserved a matching set. It just feels natural, now, that the day he fell in love with Alex he already had a ring in his pocket.

He thinks back to being touched all nervous and hungry, and he thinks Alex might have loved him just a little, too. Maybe not enough, maybe not enough for a lifetime together, but Michael would still like the chance—that’s all he wants, just the chance—to go down on one knee and find that out some day.

But hey. It’s not about him right now; it’s about giving Iz the best damn day of her life. Helping her forget the secrets and the lies, just for a little. So he replaces the lock on the box, replaces his aching back on its shelf, and starts scrolling through the music on his phone.

He dances as Isobel’s wedding. He dances with his sister and with girls he knew from high school; he dances with Noah’s lawyer friends and other people he’s never even met before. He dances with acetone cutting his blood and his brain a thousand miles away, under vaulted ceilings and, later, under the stars.

--

In a clean, cold hospital half a world away, dancing gets a little more complicated for Alex Manes.

[nikki-reuclife]

Ecig Store

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[adeftracnab1970-blog]

I received this about a week ago. And I believe I paid more for it but it was still dirt cheap. Got it in black. My advice would be to try new products out slowly ( especially any actives or products with retinol) so that if you have a reaction you know what product was responsible. Also the way you describe your skin, flaky at times but still oily, sounds like your skin might be dehydrated. If you interested, r/skincareaddiction and r/asianbeauty could be helpful in finding a good routine and skincare specific subscription boxes.. George Westinghouse opened that plant in 1895, but the principles of its operation haven't changed much since then. First, engineers build a dam across a river to create a reservoir of stored water. They place a water intake near the bottom of the dam wall, which allows water to flow from the reservoir and through a narrow channel called a penstock. I also still think about his childhood flashback with the tape and hope we get more insight sometime. He cried over Uvo death but also thinks nothing of his own life. He usually stoic but shows a bit of a cocky side when fighting the Zoldycks. Know what, Tiffany, I supposed to go to a couple more [fashion week] shows. I don know what going to happen, but I coming to sit with you, she said on the show. Nobody talking politics. In the next moment they struck upon the rock. The canoe was split and overturned. There were five persons on board. This whole damn thread is cancer. Everyone is arguing about why or why not the kid was justified in beating this old man, essentially comparing the old dude to a Nazi or a KKK member, when I reality it not okay to do this under any damn circumstance. Politics in this country has become so damn divided and polarizing that noone has any humanity anymore, on either side of the spectrum.. Sometimes play with my girlfriend who also learning. Challenge focused, exp farm focused. Got a couple W so not a total baddie. Lastly, the safety and sanitation of the guns themselves. Plastic will hold more bacteria, depending on where you live and the health regulations of where you are. Not everyone is going to be efficient at cleaning their tools, especially in a mall. Use It Up I decided to curb my spending habits and ONLY purchase new things once I have an empty in that same category. So I have to use up my bare minerals concealer before I purchase the Fenty one even though I want it desperately! In the 창녕출장샵 same vain, I am going on accutane but have decided (other than one pack of the FAB Moisturizer that will be on sale at the end of the month at Ulta) not to buy any new skin care until I empty something. I can add more oil or hyaluronic acid to my current moisturizer if I feel too dry. This! I have told my son everyday since he was born that my love for him is absolutely unconditional. No matter if he gay, straight or trans. No matter the religion. There are a couple of other competitors (e. G. Hellion iirc), but everyone except maybe EVE and ED is in Alpha or even earlier.. All of a sudden 2019 can come soon enough!Beim ernten werden 창녕출장샵 sie halt schnell sauer. Muss man sich aber nun auch nicht so vorstellen, als ob der gesamte Schwarm gleichzeitig auf einen losgeht. Aber man wird definitiv von einigen bekrabbelt und die stechen dann auch in Anzug und Maske.

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

 Leaked audio recordings allegedly from Russian mercenaries in  Syria capture deep lament and humiliation over a battle in early  February where US forces killed as many as 300 Russians.

Published by Polygraph.info, a  website that's funded by the US government, the audio recordings  paint a picture of Russian mercenaries essentially sent to die in  an ill-conceived of advance on a US-held position.

 The Pentagon described the attack as "unprovoked" and started by  pro-Syrian government forces that crossed over the Euphrates  river, which functions as a border between US-backed and  Russian-backed forces in Syria.

 The Pentagon claims about 500 men began to fire on the  position, and the US responded with air power and artillery  strikes. The audio from Polygraph seems to confirm those  details while giving some insight into the feelings of the  defeated Russian forces.

 Also apparent in the audio is the Russian mercenaries'  displeasure with how Russia is handling the situation. Initially,  Russia denied its citizens took part in the clash. Later, a  spokesperson admitted five may have died. Last week, Russia's  Foreign Ministry said in a statement that the fight left "  several dozen wounded," and some had died. Russian voices on tape  report losing 200 men "immediately."

 Since then, the Washington Post has  reported that it has leaked audio confirming that a close ally of  Russian President Vladimir Putin secured permission from the  Kremlin before advancing on the US forces. Russia is thought to  use military contractors, and not their proper military, to  maintain deniability for acts of war and to conceal the true cost of fighting  from the Russian people.

 The audio recordings that allege to belong to Russian military  contractors back up reports from Reuters, Bloomberg, and the  Pentagon that roughly 100, if not hundreds, died. Reuters  reported that advance's purpose was to test the US response.

 Their accounts also align with how the battle went down,  depicting an unprepared column of troops meeting an overwhelming  air response before helicopter gun ships strafed the remaining  troops.

"The reports that are on TV about … well, you know, about Syria    and the 25 people that are wounded there from the Syrian f***    Army and -- well ... to make it short, we've had our asses f***    kicked. So, one squadron f**** lost 200 people …right away,    another one lost 10 people… and I don't know about the third    squadron but it got torn up pretty badly, too... So three    squadrons took a beating… The Yankees attacked… first they    blasted the f*** out of us by artillery and then they took four    helicopters up and pushed us in a f*** merry-go-round with    heavy caliber machine guns….They were all shelling the holy    f*** out of it and our guys didn't have anything besides the    assault rifles… nothing at all, not even mentioning    shoulder-fired SAMs or anything like that…So they tore us to    pieces for sure, put us through hell, and the Yankees knew for    sure that the Russians were coming, that it was us, f***    Russians… Our guys were going to commandeer an oil refinery and    the Yankees were holding it… We got our f**** asses beat rough,    my men called me... They're there drinking now… many have gone    missing… it's a total f***-up, it sucks, another    takedown….Everybody, you know, treats us like pieces of sh***    ... They beat our asses like we were little pieces of sh***...    but our f*** government will go in reverse now and nobody will    respond or anything and nobody will punish anyone for this...    So these are our casualties…"  

"Out of all vehicles only one tank survived and one BRDM    (Armored Reconnaissance Vehicle) after the attack, all other    BRDMs and tanks were destroyed in the first minutes of the    fight, right away."

"Just had a call with a guy; so they basically formed a    convoy, but did not get to their f*** positions by some three    hundred meters. One unit moved forward, the convoy remained in    place, about 300 meters from the others. The others raised the    American f*** flag and their artillery started f*** ours really    hard. Then their f*** choppers flew in and starter f***    everybody. Ours just running around. Just got a call from a    pal, so there are about 215 f*** killed. They simply rolled    ours out f*** hard. Made their point. What the f*** ours were    hoping for in there?! That they will f*** run away themselves?    Hoped to f*** scare them away? Lots of people f*** so bad    [they] can't be f*** ID-d. There was no foot soldiers [on the    American side]; they simply f*** our convoy with    artillery."

This is an older post i had kicking around of the alleged audio leak from a member of the Wagner Group, which is/was(lol) the mercenary group of Ukraine/Crimea/Donbass/Donetsk veterans sent to Syria to fight a clandestine war against the Islamic State on behalf of the Russian government.

Once the Islamic State was beaten to a point of near defeat at the beginning of 2018, Kurdish and American observers east of the city of Deir Ezzor noticed a buildup of troops and armoured vehicles on the eastern bank of the Euphrates River, the bulge or point by which the Syrian Arab Army attempted to head off YPG/Kurdish expansion into ISIS held land to the south east of the Euphrates.

at this point, it became clear that without soft, spongey isis to grow territorial control into, the Syrian loyalists confronted the fact that the US backed Kurds were now the major obstacle to the reintegration of all of pre-war Syria’s territory back into government hands. What’s more, in the race to defeat ISIS, the Kurds took the big prize of capturing the largest oil fields and production sites that lay on the eastern shore of the Euphrates. This is a massive, critical disadvantage to the Syrian government and a tremendous boon to the fledgling Kurdish rojava.

So, at least with Kremlin awareness or even approval, the Russian Wagner PMC group begins a lightly armed assault on the YPG to attempt to capture the conoco oil refinery just outside the grasp of Syrian control.

It’s important to note that while the SAA and loyalist “ISIS Hunters” were bogged down at the eastern shore of the river in their push to extend control to the opposite shore of the river, it was reported that United States special ops infiltrated the conoco oil refinery just outside the frontline, to capture it for the Kurds who had yet to even reach the area, as they too were bogged down by ISIS defenses just north east of the city in their own previous effort to reach Deir Ezzor before the SAA did. A stunning strategic victory and dramatic cucking of the hard fought effort by the SAA and the loyalists, only miles away, to puncture ISIS lines. With the Refinery captured, the USA could firmly plant their boots down and declare the eastern shore of the river for it’s Kurdish allies.

But nonetheless, via wagner group, up to 500 loyalists decided to test the waters and see just how much the United States would defend against any assault from loyalist held territory

What followed was, as you read above, a vicious obliteration of the PMC group. Once gunfire and light artillery began to land on Kurdish posts around the gas/oil plant, the USA began a dramatic, furious response. in a matter of hours, 100 or more Russian mercenaries were dead in an overwhelming and relentless aerial assault

so yes, that would be MULTIPLE AC-130 gunships circling Wagner group from above, raining hell down as various other jets and helicopters strafed the light, armoured infantry unit

Official counts state 100 killed but soldiers in Wagner suggest that upwards of 215 or more, just about half of the entire force, were liquidated “right away” along with all the vehicles they brought to the fight.

Several days later, reports arose of upwards of 300, or more than half of the 500 mercenaries were killed.

(SOURCE)

No wonder the survivors mercs were finding themselves licking their wounds and drinking heavily soon after

The Yankees attacked… first they    blasted the f*** out of us by artillery and then they took four    helicopters up and pushed us in a f*** merry-go-round with    heavy caliber machine guns….They were all shelling the holy    f*** out of it and our guys didn't have anything besides the    assault rifles… nothing at all, not even mentioning    shoulder-fired SAMs or anything like that…So they tore us to    pieces for sure, put us through hell, and the Yankees knew for    sure that the Russians were coming, that it was us, f***    Russians…

Analyzing the nature of the counter-attack, it’s apparent that the USA decided to keep up the counterattack, even when elements of Wagner’s attack force were in disarray or retreat. Usually the USA would give such an assault a lashing and let them retreat, but in this case the United States meant to send a message to the loyalists and, by extension Russia, “don’t fuck with us.”

And to most geopolitical observers, that the USA is here to stay.

[x-dudes]

Can you do a Poe x reader where the reader is a sarcastic mechanic. She and Poe constantly argue like they hate each other but in reality it’s like they’re flirting unknowingly. While arguing, Poe interrupts her by kissing her? If that makes sense

Notes: Totally does!! I gotchu. Also, from the moment I started writing this Han and Leia parallels (without all the toxic tendencies in their relationship) just grabbed at me and I almost couldn’t resist. hope you like it!!! It’s kind of long so you can find it under the cut for convenience sake.

Published: December 28th, 2017

Warnings: Some spoilers for The Last Jedi? Nothing too major. I’d say it kind of spoils the opening scene but it was put under a read more link regardless.

-

The sweltering heat of the main ship’s gas system almost overcame you, causing heavy beads of sweat to drip from the skin of your face, neck, and back as you worked vigorously on your repairs. A little BB unit sat propped up on your workbench, with it’s center panel opened as you examined the mainframe. Moments earlier he had gone through major electrical damage, evident still in the singed appearance of the orange paint and the heat the droid still radiated hours later, and you were assessing the damage from within, hoping silently it wouldn’t be anything that couldn’t be repaired with what you had available.

“How’s he looking?” A voice called, breaking you from your concentration. You flinched slightly, causing your hand to press against the heated metal of the droid’s outer shell and obtain an oblong burn across your forearm. Though recognizing the voice in question, you refused to let yourself appear anything less than snide and disdainful as you finally lifted your head up to lock eyes.

“Don’t talk to me.” You answered, turning your chair back to the little droid and placing your electric wedge between two magnetic plates along the damaged perimeter of his body.

“(Y/N),-”

“Poe, I’m working, and unlike your job, mine consists of serious concentration and deliberate thought.” You scorned, sending an electric shock through the metallic plates of the wedge and effectively rebooting the droid’s motion system.

“Woah, woah, woah, be careful with my droid.” He chuckled.

“His gyrosystem was in permanent motion lock. Y’know that thing that allows him to even move in the first place? Although, I think it might do him some good to do something other than follow you blindly. So did you want a frozen droid? ‘Cause I can always take out one of his chips if tha-

“I think I get it.”

“No, Poe, I don’t think you do get it.” You snapped. “BB-8 almost died out there- I don’t know if you believe that droids can die like that, I know it’s kind of a ‘controversial’ topic.” You placed air quotes around the word controversial. “But I do. I believe that there’s some other part to them that we can’t build or program. You see it in BB-8, don’t you? He sees it in himself. I know he does.- He’s in here kind of frequently you know?” Of course, it couldn’t be some sort of talk with (Y/N) without a snarky comment or sarcastic remark. “And he risked it all, knowing that this could mean everything, to help you be a careless idiot, because he trusts you. He did it because he loves you.” For once, Poe stood before you completely wordless. Any thoughts of what he could say all died down in his throat before they had the chance to surface. The thick silence was cut with the sounds of happy whirring and chirping as the familiar little droid powered back up. Poe only watched as (Y/N) screwed his plate back into place and gave everything a good shake to test for durability. BB let out a series of low whistles, causing you to laugh as you met the droid’s gaze.

“Sorry, sorry. Hey, Beebee, how ya’ feeling?” He whirred in response. “I can imagine…” You replied as you cleaned the sweat and oil from her palms. You stood up to stroke his side, and Poe watched carefully as the little droid leaned into your touch, hearing your words from just moments earlier play on loop in his head. “Well, I think you’re very brave.”

“Oh, but I’m careless?” Poe gloated, nudging your shoulder with his fingers as he pulled closer to your workbench.

“I think you’re certainly something.” You taunted.

“What kind of something?”

“Well, the last time I was as mean to you as I’d like to be, General Organa called me into her quarters to scold me.” You teased in return, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips just faint enough for BB-8 alone to notice. “…to say the least.”

“Wait, her quarters?”

“Yeah, and I was still really young and real new to the Resistance mech team, too, so I was convinced that I was going to walk out of there wearing my ass as a hat or something because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” You chuckled.

“Oh, man, I don’t even remember what happened that day. What did you do?”

“I think that was one of many times I would threaten to beat you senseless if you didn’t start taking better care of BB-8.” You quipped. “Poor fella…”

“So what’d she do to you? You know, (Y/N), I think ass hats are going to be the next big fashion trend of the decade.” He taunted, scooting closer to your seat on the workbench. You replied with a tempting ‘hmm?’ which he couldn’t help but smirk at. “Yeah, because you are one.”

“Fuck off, Poe.” You replied, shoving him roughly from his seat with a visible smirk. “Getoutta here, your atrocious face and horrendous personality make my working conditions just about unbearable.”

“And we were getting along so well…” He mocked, wiping an imaginary tear as he lifted BB-8 from the table and placed him on the laminate flooring of the ship.

“Uh uh uh, what do you think you’re doing with h-”

“I’m taking him home? As he is mine and I think I have the right to do so?”

“And what makes you so sure he’s all fixed up? That one flight repair won’t turn him into scrap metal and spare parts?” You countered. He stood silent. “Yeah, thought so.” You crouched to speak one-on-one with BB, hearing him whir conflictedly. “Hey, I never said you couldn’t go. Just go easy on yourself, alright? And check up with me at least once every couple of days until I say otherwise, you got that?” The droid rolled his head to signal he understood. “That means no being reckless for you, either. Promise?” BB-8 extended one of his thin metal arms from his chest in a sort of pinky-promise. Your little finger wrapped around the arm with a grin as you stood up to face Poe once again. “If he ends up back in here, I’ll have you wearing your ass as a hat. Are we clear?”

“I’m sorry, princess.” He sneered, one eyebrow raised in his signature Poe Dameron fashion that you’ve grown to resent. “But I think I can handle him.”

“You fucking better…” You called, though he and the little droid were already stepping away.

BB-8 chirped his concerns through the speaker, trying to keep his voice low until they turned the corner. It came out as more of a question than anything else, though it still made Poe chuckle in disbelief.

“Like her?” He repeated. “Yeah, I guess she’s alright…”

“I told you, I told you if he found himself in there one more time, Poe, I wouldn’t fucki-”

“Yeah, I’m aware, princess, what did you expect me to do? I needed him. We can’t all sit along the edge of the battlefield doing-”

“Call me princess one more time see if I don’t smack you into next year.” You threatened, feeling him grow closer with each insult spewed at each other. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report to the General that you’re unfit to hold a droid and that BB-8 should essentially be repossessed.” You prompted. He turned his head in serious thought, making you realize only now that you could feel his warm breath fan out against your cheeks.

“Shit- (Y/N), you can’t be seriou-”

“I’m absolutely serious. You and Organa are already kind of on thin ice here, Poe, and for good reason, too. It wouldn’t be very hard at all to report the instances in which-”

“Well then why haven’t ya’, (Y/N)?! Huh?!” Poe snapped slamming his fist on to your workbench with such force, and at such a close proximity that it was second nature to jump.

“Poe,” You began, evening your voice out so were no longer shouting. Fighting wasn’t your goal, you reminded yourself. 

“With such an active effort to call me out on every mistake I make with ‘im, why haven’t you just turned me in already?”

“Poe, I-”

“No, I don’t want anymore bullshit from you, (Y/N)! I wan-”

“Because I didn’t report them, Poe! I DIDN’T REPORT ANY OF BB’S PREVIOUS DAMAGES BECAUSE I KNEW IT WOULD GET YOU INTO A LOAD OF SHIT YOU DIDN’T NEED TO BE IN, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS AGAINST VERY STRICT RESISTANCE CODE THAT I DID, ESPECIALLY WHEN SAID DROID HAS HELD INFORMATION CRITICAL TO THE ENTIRE WELLBEING OF THE RESISTANCE. ALL BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO KEEP YOU OFF THE BENCH AND AWAY FROM THE SHITTY SIDELINES AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, BECAUSE WITH HOW OFTEN BB-8 IS IN HERE I ACTUALLY KIND OF BEGAN TO BELIEVE IN YOU. A LONG TIME AGO, ACTUALLY. BEFORE FLEEING D’QAR, BEFORE THE BLACK SQUADRON, MAYBE EVEN BEFORE YOU BECAME ‘THE POE DAMERON’ POSTERCHILD PILOT OF THE RESISTANCE WHO EVERYONE BUT LEIA’S AFRAID TO CALL OUT, BECAUSE THEY THINK HE CAN DO NO WRONG.” You stopped to catch your breath in short pants, realizing you had moved yourself even closer as you screamed at him. You spoke again, voice now gravelly and soft from misuse, yet still just strong enough to speak your peace. “God, you’re such an idiot. Although I guess this is partially my fault, because I didn’t realize at the time that you were actually kind of a prick- stop that.”

“Stop what?” Poe replied, stepping closer with his signature eyebrow raised in a taunting look. Although this time it was different, and you couldn’t place why.

“Looking at me like that.” You answered.

“Looking at you like what, princess?”

“Stop calling me that.” You stated softly.

“What, Princess?” You nod bitterly. “Weren’t you a princess?” He recalls, thinking back briefly to a conversation he overheard between yourself and Leia.

“Not exactly. Though this is something you would know if you bothered to pay mind to anybody but yourself f-” Your snide remarks died on your lips as Poe feverishly closed the distance, pressing his own to yours. He pulled away, a smug look marking his features. “What? Do you think that just kissing a woman solves all of your problems? You questioned, sneering angrily, yet placing your hands over his chest and keeping him in place by the lapels of his jacket.

“Not exactly. But the years worth of backed up sexual and romantic tension? That’s another story.” You rolled your eyes in a dramatic display, pushing him away from you with a soft thud. He furrowed his brow, unsure of whether to follow as you walked away.

“My shift ends at seven.” You explained, turning back to meet his confused gaze a few feet behind you with a taunting smile. “You want to wait up for me? We can finish this afterwards.”

[byul-bit-arae]

Boyfriend Jinyoung (GOT7)

Most gentleman on earth omg

Sweetie

Best boyfriend you could ever ask for wtf

The type to make you feel like a princess

And wonder what the heck did you do in your past life to deserve such an amazing person

Very loving

As in very very VERY loving

Jinyoung looks like the type to take relationships very seriously so he wouldn’t ever look at any other person but you

Also he looks like the type to not fall in love easily so if he says he loves you you’re probably THE most perfect human being on earth, or at least in his eyes.

ALSO he’s a Virgo and if you believe in that astrology shit, Virgos tend to be perfectionists and make sure to find the “perfect” partner, even if it takes a lot of time (I know that bc I’m a Virgo)

(Also bc I’m still single haaaa- (:3√L)

Once Jinyoung falls for you there is no way out

He’s totally into you and everything you do would drive him crazy

Like you’d just be sitting there studying and readjusting your glasses whenever they slip a bit down and he’d be dying

The type to notice and LOVE the smallest things about you that even you don’t know, or don’t consider a “thing”

Like when you pull your hair up, cross your legs, or are simply so immersed into something

Yeah, those little things make his heart skip a beat

So so so loving and so so so thoughtful

The type to prepare a tub of warm water and essential oils/ bubble baths for you after a long day

Also the type to stay up with you if you’re working on some assignment

Even if he has nothing to do he’d just sit there reading a book and waiting for you to finish

Because he realizes how important it must be for you

Of course he would tell you to go to sleep if it’s too late because afterall your health and well being is all that matters

Random breakfast in bed mornings

Where you wake up and find him with a tray of all what you like to have for breakfast next to your bed

Tbh he’d treat you like a princess bc he’s a prince himself

But also a possessive lil shit

Tbh he’d glare at every boy that talks to you aside from the got7 squad

He’d glare at every boy that simply lays his eyes on you, really

Is low-key salty about you going out with your friends/on a trip without him

Okay maybe high-key

Not that he doesn’t trust you or anything he’d put the sake of his life in your hands

But he’d be afraid someone would try and make a move on you or bother you

And Park Jinyoung is never signing up for any of that shit

So if he ever agrees on letting you go you’ll have to send him a picture of you every hour

I’m not even shitting you he legit said that in some interview shit

Would give you all of his attention

Like if you’re talking he’d be looking straight at your eyes the whole time

Half listening half admiring your beauty tbh

Unless he’s reading a book lmao

And sometimes he’d tease you by pretending to be so busy with his book

And you’re just there whining and tugging on him for attention

Damn how would he enjoy that

He’d be fighting that smile that wants to creep its way to his lips and tries to look indifferent

But he’d eventually give up bc you’re too cute to ignore

And that earns you a kiss

Kisses with Jinyoung are not that frequent but so special

Be it cute pecks or passionate kisses -in which he gets so dominant but let’s not talk about that- ,

His kisses are always so sweet and make you feel butterflies in your stomach

And that small smile whenever he pulls away as he looks at you in affection leaves your heart tingling

And the fact that it’s not frequent and he mostly kisses you when it’s just you two makes it even more special

He’s more of a hugging person I believe

Hugging, holding hands, cuddling

Just a lot of that

Eomma Jinyoung is a nagging Jinyoung

Just slip and accidentally say you didn’t have lunch or something

He 👏 would 👏 FLIP.

He’d make sure you’re eating and sleeping regularly and would scold the hell out of you if you don’t

Especially if you really didn’t take good care of yourself and you fell sick - lol y'all know what Park Jinyoung’s biggest pet peeve is, but he wouldn’t be that bothered at all bc your sneeze is the cutest-

He’d soften eventually and feed you then stroke your hair to sleep on his lap

Speaking about that

Sitting on the sofa with you on his lap as he reads a book and plays with your hair is his fave thing to do

It’s like the definition of heaven for him tbh

He doesn’t like anything too flashy or such

He’d enjoy calm and stable relationships

Not that I’m saying you won’t have times where you just goof around like dorks

But from the point that I think Jinyoung is the type of boyfriends that doesn’t need to touch you in public to show people that he’s your bf

Anyone can just feel it

From the way he looks at you and everything

An actual prince don’t talk to me

Tbh dating Jinyoung would feel like a manga in real life where you live happily ever after