#Im setting up some prints while i watch its too painful to keep my eyes on the screen the entire time
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Ulitmate laziness - you can see my air conditioner in the window over there but i have my handy dandy remote to turn the fan on/off depending on the temp so i dont have to walk around the bar and through the kitchen to hit buttons
#You can also see i solved the which jersey do i wear problem by making it laundry day \o/#Im setting up some prints while i watch its too painful to keep my eyes on the screen the entire time#I will rewatch the game later when its on streaming in high definition#Nyr boots liveblog#Boots penguins liveblog
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All of you
WARNINGS: NSFW. IM NOT KIDDING THIS IS ABSOLUTE FILTH. 18+/Pro hero au! All of it, all of it happens. Slight angst fluffy after care ending.
Your body seized as you threw your head back into the pillows, forcing your hand to continue its ministrations as you rode out another climax. Although you did not know how many you had achieved.
You only knew that you felt lonely afterward, so terribly lonely and the only thing that could ease the pain was the temporary high of fucking yourself.
Since clearly no one else was gonna do it for you.
Not to mention you felt utterly unsatisfied after each high point, no matter how fast or how hard it came, you never felt full.
Slowly starting again has your legs shaking, back pressed into the husband pillow for a semblance of human contact, sliding the dildo in and out as your fingers used your slick to slide across your puffy clit.
"F..fuck!" A gasp that echos around you before you encourage yourself, "Don't stop!"
"Fuck is right." The male's voice startles you, your eyes blown wide as you draw your legs to yourself, didlo forgotten on the sheets.
"B...Bakugou!" Damn were you embarrassed, mortified really as your ex stood in the doorway of the old master bedroom the two of you shared.
Although that was half a year ago.
"Wh...what are you doing here?!" Great, just great, he caught you at the worst possible moment. Even when the two of you were dating you didn't like having him watch not matter how much it excited him.
"Needed to return some old key for work, couldn't find it at my place. I thought it'd here." His dark burgundy red eyes made you feel dizzy, as if you're drunk.
"You didn't call or text! I..I" Tears burn your eyes as you pull the blanket around you. Wanting to pull it over your head and just die really.
"Don't be shy kitten." The old nickname causes your cunt to clench, you bit on your lower lip as he approaches you, "Why are you hiding from me?"
"Baku…"He cuts you off, hand tight around your throat as he rips the blanket from your shaking hands.
"Is that my name pet?" A growl in your ear before his face swims in front of yours. He watches for your telltale sign of floating, your eyes water, lashes fluttering as you fight to keep the panic at bay long enough for it to turn into pure pleasure.
"Answer me." His voice is steely, fingers pressing harder into that frantic pulse. Warmth washes over your whole body as you begin to feel light headed, soft fingers caress your skin as caramel floods your sense.
Funny how easy it is to fall into old habits.
"I…I'm sorry S...sama." You choke out, he smiles in response. Pressing his mouth hungrily to yours swiping his tongue along your lips, you part your mouth to allow him entrance. He dominates you with his harsh kisses, hand still pressed to your throat, giving you enough air to breath but choking enough that your vision blurs in your peripheral.
This kiss, Gods you felt like you could cum from this kiss alone. Higher than any drug you could ever get your hands on as you settled deeply into subspace, your eyes begin to roll. Suddenly Bakugou pulls away and with it all of his warmth. He leans back, a cruel smile on his face as he watches you hesitate to reach out to him. He could tell you wanted more of him.
No you fucking needed it.
"What's this kitten?" His voice is deep, filled with malice as he holds the neon pink dildo in his hand, "Looks like you were having fun."
Your head is far too high in the clouds to answer as your body hums in excitement, he has that look in his eyes, like he likes what he sees. Oh and does he like what he sees, his favorite sub, drenched in your own sweat and slick, cheeks burning red as your eyes scream fuck me.
And you know it's just a matter of time before he goes feral.
"Open your mouth." A simple enough command that you do, tongue extended for his pleasure. He chuckles before tapping the head of silicone toy to your tongue.
"Show me what that slutty mouth can do."
"Wha..what?" He shoves it into your mouth until you gag, a soft moan follows only widening his smirk.
"Kitten did you forget that quickly how much I fucking hate repeating myself?" He grabs for your hair, the pleasant burn at the base of your scalp has you soaking the sheets between his knees. He guides your head along pink shaft encouraging you to give him a show.
You suck and pull on the dildo pretending it was his throbbing cock instead of the lifeless silicone that slid between your lips. Mouth salivating with earnest as you remember his sweet salted caramel taste, a moan escapes your mouth from the thought of his hot cum hitting the back of your throat. You deep throat the toy, gagging again, eyes watering as you hold eye contact. Bakugou swallows thickly, the ache in his pants demanding attention as his cock begins to weep.
But he isn't done playing with his food.
"Tsk. Guess something never change huh? You just love sucking dick don't you filthy slut?" You moan in response, he watches your cunt quiver from his words.
Again he rips away your joy, just as you were working the toy over just the way he liked. You feel at odds with yourself as you breathe heavily, hoping and praying he says those magic words.
He doesn't say them just yet.
He removes his pants and boxers, freeing his thick member from their confines. He gives it an eager pump as you lick your lips.
"Do you want a taste of this?" Your mouth waters again, watching as he spreads that delicious precum across his length.
"Yes, Sama. I do."
"Have you been good enough to get a taste?" His voice is sultry as he lazily strokes himself all you can do is nod in response, eyes glued to the motion of his hand.
"I don't think you have, stuffing your own slutty hole and cumming until you've lost count." Your cheeks burn, how could he always read you like an open book, no matter how closed off you thought you were? He grabs you by the ankles, pulling you to him before he bends over. Breathing softly over your soaking core to watch it clench around nothing. His grin becomes wolfish as he dares to come closer to give your clit a soft lick. You mewl from the action, gripping the sheets to keep from forcing his head into your sopping cunt.
"Fuck I missed this pretty pussy of mine." His fingers go up and down your core as he smiles, "Tell ya what. If you're my good kitten and hold your cum while I eat I'll let you have a taste of me. Might just fuck you too."
A soft gasp leaves your lips, nodding in response. It was going to be hard, out of all of your partners Katsuki always ate you the best. He was always attentive, he knew when to thrust his fingers, when to suck and nip at your clit, hell it seemed he even knew when to grunt to let you know he loved every second of turning you into putty in his hands. He forced back your leg, biting at your inner thighs before he dove in. Tonguing your hole as his nose presses against your sensitive bud.
Moans echo around the room in a seemingly never ending string as he laps at your sweet nectar. He locks your bud in his mouth, nipping before tonguing it hard, thrusting his curled fingers into your core as he slides over that soft spongy spot. Stars dot your vision as you clench around nothing, screaming as you fight the tight coil in your stomach, holding it as best you can. Foisting the sheets and even his hair as you try to pull him away.
"S...sama please. I… I can't I…" He comes up to hold eye contact with you, fingers still thrusting into you. Hard enough it rocks your body.
"You will slut. I haven't had my fill." Purposefully he groans over your abused clit causing your head to fall back, he continues for a few moments more.
Just as you're about to release he pulls away, your body shakes in anguish and anger. Had he stopped a second later it could have been bad for you.
"Well it looks like you get rewarded sweetheart. Let me see that pretty mouth, I just might fill it with cum." He wipes at his mouth with a deadly grin, his hand smoking, filling the air with burnt sugar.
You bend over as he gets into his knees, arching your back to best show your ass as you attempt to take him to his hilt. You gag, the head deep enough it cuts off your air. You moan around him sending a vibration up his length. He grips your hair roughly, bobbing your head as he watches your face turn red from lack of air, gagging, adding more lube for his pleasure.
"F...fuuck kitten. Fuck!" His cock throbs in your throat. Using his free hand to leave a mess of scratches on your upper back.
"Fuck!" He pulls your mouth from his length with a lewd pop. Breathing heavily as his eyes burn with desire. Your stomach flips as he pulls you by your hair up to his mouth, kissing you deeply. Almost gently before going feral with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth before he attacks your neck. Marking you with deep bruising sucks and pink bites. Hands burning on your ass leaving crude red hand prints.
"Assume the position." He growls, easily you obey. Turning away from him, face pressed into the mattress as you present your ass to him, wiggling it for a tease earning a quirk backed smack. He rubs the spot tenderly before slapping it again and again. Watching your folds glisten. He teased you by sliding his head up and down in your slick.
"You want this cock baby? You want King to dick you down so well you forget your name?"
"Y..yes." You whimper. He growls, fisting your hair pulling your head away from the sheets.
"Fucking speak up. Tell Sama exactly what you want." Again you moan.
"Please, please fuck me s..sama!" You try to move your hips for some friction but he holds you steady.
"Such an eager slut." He starts pounding into you, bodies flapping as he sets a brutal pace, "God you're just sucking me in kitten. Fuck this pussy was always my favorite."
Another blasted back slap lands across your cheek, welting into a thick hand print. All you can do is whimper and take his cock as your velvet walls suck him in, sliding against your sensitive spots. Bakugou spies the forgotten toy as a devilish thought washes over him. He reaches for the neon dildo as he speaks.
"You like sucking dick baby?"
"Yes! Yes sir!" You moan out, uncaring if your neighbors can hear you.
"Good. Then make sure I can hear you moan over this." Again he shoves the hot pink dick into your mouth. You suck eagerly and with sloppy tongue strokes and he demolishes you.
"Such a good kitten. Such a filthy sweet slut." Another smack sending you closer, "You sure are squeezing me. Gonna cum on my cock?"
You nod, moaning yes around the toy.
"Then you better cum hard." He moves impossibly faster, balls hitting your clit just right as you gag yourself with the toy. You cannot take it, the mattress and the world fall from beneath you as your vision is spotted black. Your body seizes, convulsing beneath his touch as you shake and wither as he fucks you through three more orgasms. Another builds as he presses down on your back, he never was satisfied until you were begging him to stop.
"S..samaaaaaa!" You try to warn, mouth abandoning the toy as he bends you to take him deeper. The pressure become immense before you break, cunt clenching him so hard he almost cums then and there. A clear liquid leaves you in spurts as you squirt all over him, leaving him the okay to finish himself.
His pace becomes sloppy.
"Fuck such a good girl, squirting on my cock for me." He groans, replaying your face over in his head before he looks down at you. Your tongue is threatening to leave your mouth, drool passing down your lips as your eyes roll into the back of your head. The sight is what sends him over the edge as he fills you with rope after rope of salted caramel cum. His throbbing cock bringing small mewls from you as he slowly brings you down. Rubbing your back and ass. Withdrawing himself to fold you into him but it is as if he cannot come to you fast enough. You claw at him, forcing your face into his chest as his strong arms envelop you, one hand running along your spine.
"You okay kitten?" His voice is soft, you wonder why the two of you let work tear this relationship apart. You shake and shiver in his arms, falling back to Earth at light speed. Tears well in your eyes as you cry into his chest. Feeling something for the first time in such a long fucking time.
"Shhh...shhh. Sama's got you." He coos, pulling you so he can carry you princess style, "Let's take a bubble bath to clean up and cuddle okay? Sound good baby girl?"
You sniffle, clutching at his chest as he carries you to the en suite. He sets you on the vanity. Wrapping you in a fresh towel before he roots around the bathroom as if he never left. Opening the linen closet growling as he settles for scented Epsom salt.
"I need to get her more bath bombs." He snarls to himself, drawing the hot water into the bath. He finds old bath rose buds and sets them into the water with the salts. He dims the lights, a small pop dances between his fingers as he sets dusty tea candles aflame. When he is satisfied he sheds his shirt, gently coaxing you out of the giant towel. He holds your back to his chest, gently sliding into the tub with you, wrapping his arms around your middle. When you finally relax a bit he sighs. Placing his forehead on the nape of your neck.
"Kitten I'm sorry. I took advantage or the sit.." You squeeze his arms to stop him.
"N..no. I n...needed that." You sniffle. Pushing yourself deeper into his chest. He sets his head atop of yours, one hand holding you close as the other traces over your bruises and bites.
"I needed that too." He answers honestly, "If...if you don't want a relationship I can always just be your Dom. Like how it was before."
Before, as in BEFORE either of you caught feelings. You shake your head, he couldn't be just your Dom.
"I want all of you Suki." You turn to face him, voice firm as you stare into his glistening eyes, "All of you."
He understands what you mean, you're telling him you need his unguarded heart.
"Then you have me." He leans in, his free hand holding your head in place. Katuski kisses you with such a tenderness you heart flutters. He pulls away slowly, eyes soft as they stare into that stunning color of yours.
"Always?" You ask meekly. He smirks as his cockiness and bravado return.
"Fucking always kitten."
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Adam versus that most evil of foes...the office printer?
two glass houses, twenty stones
Pairing: M!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 1711 Summary: Having recently learned that he is the target of a power-hungry vampire who wants to experiment on him because of his “special blood” (oh, yeah, and vampires are real, apparently), Detective Arlo Priestley deals with the aftermath. The aftermath, of course, including one Adam du Mortain and his sparkling personality.
So... I don’t even know what to say anymore. I get completely innocuous prompts and they become something COMPLETELY different than what i had in mind. so, uh, hope you enjoy an Arlo Character Study with a side of Printer Shenanigans! This takes place in Book 1, shortly after the detective finds out about, uh, everything. I had fun playing the unreliable narrator with Arlo! And I have a fun idea for a sequel that’s Adam’s POV! Title is from Type O Negative’s “I Don’t Wanna Be Me.”
“You can, uh, sit down if you’d like,” Arlo offers, picking at the chipped polish on his thumb.
Adam hardly glances at him, keeping his attention on the window that overlooks the rest of the police department. “I am fine standing,” he says shortly. It almost seems like he’s determined to not look directly at the detective at all.
Arlo winces a bit, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine too,” he mumbles, looking down at his pile of reports. He brushes the accumulated black paint chips he’s shed in his anxious fidgeting aside. He’ll have to paint his nails again soon, they’re looking rather ragged, almost to the point he can bite them again. He’s been trying to stop, he knows it’s sort of gross, but still…
He furrows his brow and starts thumbing through reports, absently flicking through his color-coded tabs that help keep him marginally organized even when his “system” doesn’t really work for anyone but him. He calls it improvisational. Verda calls it “slapdash.”
He frowns, chewing on his lower lip and clicking his tongue when he notes his color system is out of order, and that one of the red tabs is missing. His eyes flicker up when he hears Adam shift slightly, but the vampire still isn’t looking at him, so he focuses back in, counting through reports again. He sighs and rolls his eyes, turning to his computer and pulling up his group chat with Tina and Verda.
big-depeche-mood: Tina, did you take my copy of Mrs. Holt’s police report?
big-depeche-mood: And why did you change my display name again?
BubblegumB!tch: how do u know i did it? why do u always blame me? 😥
big-depeche-mood: Because Verda has no reason to care about Mrs. Holt claiming her ex kidnapped the dog when they separated.
big-depeche-mood: And if you mean the display name, you’re the only one with admin privilege, because you made this chat.
BubblegumB!tch: i am being unfairly targeted 😭😭😭
BubblegumB!tch: im taking this to HR
DoctorDILF: HR has found no evidence to support this claim.
DoctorDILF: Really, Tina?
big-depeche-mood: Just tell me if I need to print another copy, please.
BubblegumB!tch: 👉👈
Arlo rolls his eyes and minimizes the window so he can start the task of going through his backlog to find the digital copy of the original report. Once he’s found it and sent it to the printer, he pushes himself upright, groaning as his spine pops in several places
Adam finally, finally turns to look at him. “Where are you going?” he snaps.
Arlo flinches, clenching his jaw to bite back the nasty retort burning on his tongue like acid. “To the printer,” he grits out, jerking his hand towards the window. “Literally twenty feet away. So unless you plan to go get that report for me, let’s just hope the megalomaniacal vampire that wants to use me as a lab rat doesn’t decide to snatch me from a police station in broad daylight.”
Seems he didn’t bite it back hard enough after all.
Adam recoils, like he always seems to when he realizes he's stepped directly on Arlo's nerves. He feels a little guilty for snapping, but he’s had more than enough of being treated like an unruly toddler. He wants to snidely suggest Adam see about requisitioning a bloody leash for him, but he snatches up a pen and starts furiously clicking it until he can calm himself down instead. Adam’s lip twitches, and Arlo clicks faster.
Adam turns sharply on heel and stalks out the door, slamming it behind him so hard the window rattles. Arlo is just grateful it hasn’t broken.
He sinks back into his chair and rolls his eyes skyward, dragging his hands down his face and wondering what the hell he’s done to deserve this whole situation. It’s bad enough he knows there’s some mad scientist vampire wanting to experiment with his freakish blood, but being shut in the same room as Adam for multiple hours a day when the man won’t even look at him, much less talk to him, makes nerves squirm under his skin and sets his whole body on edge. Unfortunately for the both of them, when Arlo gets nervy, it gets much harder for him to temper what comes out of his mouth.
He melts into his chair a little more, ignoring the pings from his computer that are probably Verda trying to convince Tina to change his display name back, and Tina reacting by changing it to increasingly ridiculous things. He just closes his eyes and focuses on breathing for a bit, trying to remember a single thing from his anger management classes from years ago when his brain is still buzzing with a squirming twist of irritation and guilt, a desperate need to apologize warring with the urge to snap and unload every frustration this whole thing has got knotted up inside him.
It's some sort of cosmic joke that Adam occupies so much of his attention, when Adam seems like he can't wait until he can get as far away from Arlo as possible.
He's just pretty, Arlo tells himself. Remember the last time you let someone pretty get you all stupid? Maybe remember what you learned from that.
He almost falls out of his chair when he opens his eyes to see Adam in the doorway, his shoulders so taut they're making Arlo's hurt just looking at them.
Maybe stop looking at them, idiot.
He forces his eyes up and is confronted with perhaps one of the most bewildering things he's ever seen.
Adam du Mortain, stoic, no-nonsense, terminally brooding Adam du Mortain, is standing just outside Arlo’s office, looking almost... sheepish. Arlo has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not seeing things. He’d almost say he’s imagining things, but at this point he’s so familiar with Adam’s general stone-faced demeanor that any sort of change to it is almost glaringly obvious. The scrunch of his eyebrows, the twist of his mouth, the almost painful stiffness of his posture, as if he’s pointedly trying to look as unaffected as possible and failing spectacularly. Arlo’s a detective, and while he doesn’t consider himself an expert at reading people, he’s still fairly decent at it. Adam, from time to time, can be pretty easy to read, but especially when he’s trying not to be.
Maybe Arlo’s been watching him a bit too closely.
“Uh,” he starts, already cringing internally at himself, “what’s up?”
Adam is silent for a moment, and then he exhales sharply through his nose, as if he is trying to calm himself down. Arlo’s nerves immediately ratchet up a few notches. “There is an issue with your printer,” he says.
Arlo blinks. “Oh. Um, I didn’t think you’d actually—” He bites his tongue when Adam’s brows furrow harder. “Let’s go have a look, shall we?” he offers instead, standing up. He hesitates to approach the door until Adam takes a step back to allow him through unimpeded. He lets Arlo lead the way and Arlo tugs his braid over his shoulder so he can twist it between his hands, because there is something a bit unnerving about Adam behind him, silent but radiating a tension Arlo can almost feel. It’s likely his imagination, considering his annoying awareness of the man, but still.
Arlo sees the problem almost immediately upon arriving at the little alcove that houses the station’s printer. The top cover for the document feeder seems to have been pulled off entirely. He turns to give Adam a bewildered look.
“The paper jammed,” Adam says stiffly.
“Yeah,” Arlo replies, “it does that sometimes.” He lifts the cover and turns it over in his hands, to see that, yes, the little plastic hinges that attach the feeder to the tray are entirely broken off. He frowns a little. Adam is so tense next to him, so still, Arlo wonders if he’s even breathing. “I can just ask Verda if I can send it to his, then see about calling someone for repairs.” He snags a sharpie from Tina’s desk and pops open one of the other trays to pull out a blank sheet of paper so he can write a quick “Out of Order” sign and slap it on top.
Adam still hasn’t moved, staring at the printer as if it has somehow personally offended him.
“It’s fine, Adam,” Arlo insists quietly, stepping a bit closer with his hands raised, though he doesn’t dare to touch. “Really. It’s a shitty old printer. I bet the second I let Tina know, she’ll go pester Doug until he calls his dad about it. We’ll have a shiny new one in no time.” He offers a wry little smile. “Say what you like about nepotism, but it has its perks.”
That doesn’t seem to help in the way Arlo hoped it would, because Adam raises an eyebrow and gives him a sharp look that has him shrinking back. “I am surprised you have that attitude, Detective.” He doesn’t have to say he’s disappointed, Arlo can hear it loud and clear and hates that it bothers him so much.
He steps back and turns away so Adam doesn’t see the look on his face before he can smooth it over. “Well, it’s the reason I’m here, isn’t it?” he can’t help but snark. “And it’s the only reason you’re here too. Explains a lot about your attitude, I suppose.” No wonder Adam’s been so bloody sour about all this. Must be a pain to have to babysit your boss’s kid because she said so. His silence on the subject speaks more than he could hope to.
More than anything Arlo wishes Rebecca could just go back to ignoring him. Things were a lot less complicated then.
Shoulders tight enough to rival Adam’s, Arlo heads towards the stairs to the basement. “I’m going to get that report,” he tosses over his shoulder, trying and failing to sound casual as Adam’s eerily quiet footsteps begin to follow him. “I’ll try not to get kidnapped on the way,” he adds under his breath.
The way Adam’s footsteps falter tell him he wasn’t quiet enough.
#the wayhaven chronicles#adam du mortain#a du mortain#twc detective#twc fanfic#pidge writes#prompt fic#sort of hfdasjkhgkj#oc: arlo priestley#i got the title pretty easy this time!#arlo's playlist helps a lot lmao#its all goth shit#so ofc type o negative is on there#arlo's two biggest appearance inspos are peter steele and davey havok circa 2017#before he cut off his hair and RUINED MY LIFE#sometimes i just watch the afi performance of just like heaven#and just... thirst#ANYWAY#i am sorry i tend to take prompts and go in a COMPLETELY different direction than they were probably intended for#I Do Not Control The Brain#i just live here#hhhhhh i hope this conveys what i want it to#my friend said it does#but im still anxious#so uh#here we go#proustianrecall
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March Ado About Nothing
Series Summary - A series of one-shots and drabbles written based off of prompts posted in the TSS Fanworks Collective server. The goal is to take traditional whump prompts and fill them in the least-angsty way possible every day through March.
A note that though some of these fills are written bait and switch style (written in a way you think is going in one direction but reveals it to be the opposite towards the end) they are all written in a fluffy or silly style with very little, if any at all, actual angst.
Day 2: Stuff Your Secrets
Summary: Stuffed animals are good and normal to have no matter what age you are- except for Remus. Logan quickly fixes that line of thinking.
Prompts: "Please, no more!, Extreme Weather, *Dirty Secret*
Ships: platonic intrulogical (Logan & Remus)
Warnings: mild angst, guilt for having stuffed animals. Let me know if there are!
General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @/janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @/im-an-anxious-wreck (in an effort to not flood your inboxes I’m only tagging in the first part ^-^)
WC: 1235
Stuffed animals, with all their innocence and connection to childlike wonder and imagination, weren’t usually something that was defined as a dirty secret someone would desperately try to hide away at all costs. Having stuffed animals was normal and useful to mental health: they were soft and plushy and you could cuddle them for comfort, they were amazing to grip onto when one was sick or in pain and, if you didn’t want to feel odd talking to yourself to work out one idea or other, you could always prop them up as a makeshift audience to listen to you infodump for hours and they would never get annoyed!
So no, stuffed animals themselves weren’t the problem, nor was having them as a fully grown and “mature” adult. The problem came because the owner was Remus, and Remus had come to learn that if he had something it was automatically thought to be something gross or dangerous or disturbing- especially if that’s not what it looked lille from the outside. He was the one that would play stupid pranks of showing someone something rather cute but have it open its mouth to reveal several jaws and a tentacle, or give someone a teddy bear the melted into foul smelling ooze when they held it. Do this enough times and be repressed for a decade or two to boot and you have a reputation that- while fair in its own right if he really thought about it- make having things that were actually innocent in nature a bit problematic if he didn’t want to be scrutinized within an inch of his life.
And so, his dirty secret remained hidden even from Janus, who Remus knew would never make fun of him or judge him for something so trivial but years of hiding made him skittish anyway. The irony of intrusive thoughts hiding something definitely wasn’t lost on him but he only shook the thought away as he continued shoving his well worn friends into a drawer in the closet while shooting a look at the clock. Logan would be coming in any minute now to help him organize a few of his projects that still needed fine tuning if he was going to show his brother any time soon; even though their relationship was still a little rocky...especially after knocking him out for an entire episode and some hateful words were said by the lighter side, they had both scraped up enough indignant reluctance to apologize and begin working together- however tentatively- on a couple different things to test the waters. And Remus wasn’t worried about it all! A second opinion from someone as observant and down to earth as Logan was never hurt was all.
He had just finished shoving everything closed and willing the closet to stay shut when there was a knock at the door. Grinning wide he sank in directly behind the logical side and opened the door from behind, making the other stiffen and then roll his eyes at Remus before walking into the room, immediately going for the desk and paying no attention to the slightly disappointed pout Remus was sporting over not getting a bigger reaction. He knew Logan was just as dramatic as any other side, he just had to find a sweet spot- maybe he’d steal his jam at some point. Appearing on top of the desk he gestured to a few notebooks strewn around.
“It’s a lot so buckle in! I haven’t had an outlet for my ideas in years!”
Logan peered at him from over his glasses. “So long as nothing is explicitly pornographic or sadistic in nature I’m willing to bet most of these will be harmless enough to include somewhere in future projects.” Screwing his mouth to the side Remus simply bounced in place, never having been able to sit still for very long especially when things were quiet. Thankfully Logan didn’t seem to mind, simply skimming through various sketchbooks and notebooks and placing flashcards to mark certain spots for whatever it was he was looking for. He jolted in surprise as something cold and gooey was pressed into his hands, looking up as Logan took his hand away and resumed his task.
“To fidget with if you like, I know sitting quietly can’t be easy but I appreciate your patience.”
Blinking in surprise Remus began idly stretching the goop around, the bright green slime enveloping his hand and sticking in a way that was oddly very pleasing as a tactile stim. He’d have to make more of this at some point and see if he could bathe in it; surely Roman wouldn’t mind one of their lakes turned into slime as long as it was for creativity's sake. He was so engrossed in the wonderful new thing he held in his hands that he didn’t hear the closet food creaking until it was too late, the overstuffed doors bursting open and spilling various items out onto the floor, multiple phallic shapes and odd body pillows were the least of his worries as he watched all of the stuffed animals he had shoved away spill out into the open in all their cute, fluffy glory. His chest constricted painfully as he shot a panicked look to Logan who was regarding the plushies waily as if they would come to life and maul him at any moment- which, while as in character as that might be- for some reason he couldn’t bear the thought of them being perceived that way.
“They’re safe I swear! Just stuffed animals I uh- there’s nothing- I just like-” His throat refused to cooperate and he was left gaping stupidly as Logan set the notebook down and stood up. “No, please!”
Remus reached out for Logan, knowing what he was pleading with him for but suddenly very aware of his racing thoughts telling him to make sure he wouldn’t get into trouble- what if he told Patton, or took them away because he wasn’t meant to have them? Or-
“I’ll be right back Remus. I promise, I’m just going to get mine.”
His? He was gone before Remus could question it as he ripped and pulled and mashed the goop in his hands nervously, wishing the other had left him with more of an explanation. He didn’t have long to wait however as Logan came back in with an armload of...something that was prompt laid on his bed. As he came closer he realized they were stuffed animals- Logan’s he guessed from the teddy bear adorned with a tie and a snail with a lab coat. But there was also a well worn fluffy purple dog, a calico cat with galaxy print for spots and a stegosaurus with a rainbow scale print on it. He looked back to Logan who smiled warmly.
“You don’t have to keep them a secret, Remus, at least not for me. I’d be a hypocrite to judge you and I’m very willing to bet the other’s would be as well.”
“Bet you my bug collection!” Remus shouted before he could think. Logan pulled a face. “I’m not trading you again- last time you didn’t say they spit acid and my desk was ruined.”
Cackling he twitched a finger and the toys were back on his bed where they belonged, though he did sneak a small squid plush in with Logan’s- as thanks.
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#false writes#fluff#mild angst#hurt/comfort mild#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#logan sanders#remus sanders#platonic intrulocal
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All This Time - 3
*Summary: Elena used to be closed off and composed, always in control of her feelings and actions. She knew how to survive long before world ended and didn’t need anyone to keep her alive. Because attachments are liability, make you weak especially in this new world where dead are walking and living are more dangerous than before.
A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.
Warnings: Swearing, some anger managment issues.
Chapter 3
Day 45 The next day was quiet; the silence between Daryl and me uncomfortable. He woke me up a few hours before dusk, which meant that he took the long shift, nothing new in this aspect. He laid down without saying anything after waking me up, and I spend the next few hours watching the area and thinking about our conversation from before. Daryl woke up before I even had a chance to shake him awake. So lack of sleep, that's another thing I can add to my list of what I know about Daryl Dixon. We quickly packed what little we had and started trekking through woods, following the tracks we noticed yesterday. Finding them wasn't that hard, especially not for a brown-haired man. What turned out to be a challenge was picking up a fresh trail. We walked around for good three hours before Daryl crouched down to touch a set of hoof prints when I followed his action I could tell that those tracks were fresher than the one we found previously. Next to me, the man looked around the forest ground and pointed the way he thought we had to go. It took us another hour to finally find the animal, we spotted it standing in the middle of a small clearing, nibbling on grass. Daryl stopped and rose his clenched fist, signaling for me to stay still. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly took an arrow out of my quiver, and lined it up on my bow and stretched the string. Steading my breathing and not taking my eyes out of our game, I was waiting for Dixon's directions. He also prepped his weapon and was watching the animal intensely. "Three, two, one," His whisper was barely hearable, and once he said 'one', we both released our arrows. His bolt hit the deer in its side while mine pierced its belly. Animal yelped in pain and took off instantly, its steps uneasy. "C'mon!" After hearing Daryl's voice, I moved quickly jogging after the animal, to not lose it in the woods again. I was pretty sure that I nicked some significant organs, and even though it didn't go down, it should bleed out soon enough; in that case, we didn't want to lose sight of it and allow geeks a free lunch. We followed the trace of blood left on the ground and leaves for some time when we heard a piercing scream, and I realized how close to the quarry we actually were. It sounded like one of the women or even one of the kids. Oh God, I hope it's not Carl or Sophia and that it's nothing. I quickly looked at Daryl. "That's coming from the camp, hurry up Dixon," Before he could react, I jogged in the direction we heard screaming. It didn't take us long to approach the edge of the camp. Daryl moved in front of me at some point, shoving me behind him when we heard concoction just in front of us. Advancing slowly, we finally emerged into a clearing, and I could see familiar faces of Shane, T-dog, Dale, and others. They all were pointing some sort of weapon in our direction.
"We surrender?" I joked while Shane put his gun down, mumbling under his nose. Dixon, on the other hand... well, he was pissed. And I wasn't surprised when I realized that on the ground just in front of us was a headless geek and half-eaten deer. Our fucking deer, the same we were tracking since yesterday. "Son of a bitch" Brown-haired man moved from in front me, around the bushes towards the deer. "That's mah deer!" His accent deepening signaling how angry he actually was. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard." With each word, he gave a sharp kick to the geeks' side, letting his aggression go somewhere else than people in front of us. "Calm down, son. That's not helping," Oh Dale. Why would you say it to Dixon? Do you have a death wish? "What do you know, old man. Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'. I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pointed a finger in Dale's general direction and moved on to retrieve his bolt. I coughed as a reminder that I'm still here. "We. We tracked that deer for miles, Dixon!" Saying that I finally made my way to the dead animal and crouched down to get my arrow. "And by the looks of it out of our shots, mine was more deadly, so technically this deer is mine, you asshole!" I quickly stood up and wiped the blood off my arrow with my rug, then I put it back into the quiver and made my way back to the camp. On my way out, I made sure to push Daryl out of my way with my shoulder. Who the hell does he think he is? We've been hunting together for months now, and yes, of course, I may not be as skilled as he is, but for fuck sake, I am not terrible. Ignoring the men, I patted Amy and Andrea on the shoulder while walking past them. "Good that you back safe" I gave them a small smile and made my way towards the camp to find Lori. She stood next to the RV with Carol and a few other women. When she saw me she smiled, but I could tell it was strained, and I started to have a bad feeling. I approached them and took the zip bags with meat out of my backpack, watching people in front of me carefully. "That's all the meat we got, it should be enough for a few days. We got a deer as well, but fucking geek gnawed on it before we could get to it." I passed the bags to Lori and Carol, as they were the best cooks out of us, trust me you don't want me to cook you dinner unless you're willing to be ill after eating it. "Thanks, Elena, it means a lot. Listen--" Lori started playing with her fingers, after putting the meat bags on a small foldable table next to the RV's door. So there was something wrong. "There isn't a good way of saying it. Merle was left behind on that run, and we know that Daryl will be so angry, and he is really unpredictable in that state. Can you try to calm him down when the guys gonna tell him?" She sputtered, and for a second there a thought I misunderstood what she said. Merle left behind. What does it even mean? Before I could ask any more questions, I could hear Daryl shouting for his brother, and I felt so bad for him. And angry with everyone who went for that run, how could you leave someone behind?! I mean yeah, sure Merle Dixon is a colossal dick and dumbass, but that's not the reason to just-- "Merle, get yur ass out here. We got us some squirrel." He smirked in my direction when he noticed me looking at him "Yes, I said 'we', women. Merle!" I really hoped that my face didn't show any emotions because that was just heartbreaking. And I was also slightly concerned for whoever will deliver the news to him. "Daryl, slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane was the one to speak, and behind him, I could see the rest of men with a new face in between them.
"Hey, Amy, who's that guy behind Shane?" I asked the blonde woman who was now standing next to me on my right.
"You won't believe it. That's Lori's husband." The fuck? I looked at browned haired women and then at the new guy and tried to hide my surprised face. This is going to be interesting. Making a mental note to ask Lori all about that, I focused on the conversation in front of me.
"There was a problem in Atlanta" Shane touched his face for a second, showing how uncomfortable he was saying it and then moved his hands to rest on his hips. Daryl looked around and hold my gaze for a second before he took a few steps.
"He dead?"
"We're not sure." After that, Daryl moved towards Shane, his voice getting louder.
"He either is or he ain't."
"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." I could see this new guy move forward, and towards Daryl, he wasn't looking directly at him at all.
"Who are you?"
"Rick Grimes"
"Rick Grimes, ya got something ya want to tell me?" Oh, I could tell that Daryl is starting to lose his patience. Yeah, I know, he doesn't have a lot of it in the first place.
"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there" When this Rick guy answered, I found myself moving forward too, annoyed at what he was saying. What stopped me was Daryl and his face full of tears when he turned around away from the new guy. He glanced at me for a second before wiping his eyes and then clenched his jaw, turning back to Rick.
"Let me process this. So, ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof, and ya left 'im there?"
"Yeah," Answer was short, and I could hear the shame in the new guy's voice, then with anger on his face, Daryl threw a string of squirrels we caught this morning at Rick Grimes and was ready to beat the shit out of the guy. That was until Shane literally tackled younger Dixon to the ground. Shane quickly stood up while brown-haired men was still lying on the ground, but I could see him reaching for his hunting knife, which was secured on his belt.
"Daryl -" I was cut off by T-Dog, who dropped the logs he was collecting.
"Hey, watch out for the knife!" At this same moment, Daryl got up and swang his arm at Rick, who dodged it. That didn't stop younger Dixon, he moved again, aiming at the men in front of him, but Rick managed to avoid it again and get a hold of Daryl's wrist pushing it away from both of them. Shane sneaked behind Daryl and put him in a headlock. With that, Dixon was shoved to the ground, with Shane's arm still around his neck. In the meantime, Rick pried the knife and dropped on the ground away from the fight.
"You'd best let me go!" Daryl was still struggling and trying to get away.
"Nah, I think it's better if I don't" I rolled my eyes and finally made my way towards the three of them.
"Shane, let him go!" Using my stern 'work' voice, it usually worked well with criminals and kids, mainly with kids.
"Daryl stop struggling, please. Just calm down for a second so we can get a full story out of them." I crouched in front of him and looked into his blue eyes, now full of tears and rage, his chest rising quickly and his fists clenched, one by his side and the other around Shane's arm, trying to ease the hold. He looked at me for a while and nodded, making me smile just a little.
"Shane, let him go! You know I can handle him if necessary." Both of them looked at me now, one unsure of what to do and the other with a look of pain in his eyes, even though it disappeared very quickly. Shane finally let him go, so I took the opportunity to turn toward this Rick guy and T-Dog.
"Great, now can someone tell us what the fuck happened in Atlanta, and how could you leave a man behind?" I put my hands on my hips, face blank, but my eyebrows rose slightly.
"What I did was not on a whim, Ma'am. His brother does not work and play well with others. He beat T-Dog and was shooting from the rooftop, attracting more and more walkers to our location." Daryl and I exchanged a look, he was biting his lower lip, a clear sign of anxiety. Yeah, unfortunately, what this man was saying was sounding precisely like Merle Dixon.
"It's not Rick's fault." That came from T-dog, "I had a key. I dropped it." Now my face was for sure, showing surprise and confusion, but it was Daryl who voiced what I was thinking.
"You couldn't pick it up?"
"I dropped it down the drain" I run my hand over my face trying to compose myself, while Daryl just scoffed in disbelief.
"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He finally stood up and tried to walk away from the group—T-Dog's voice stopping him in his tracks.
"Maybe this will. I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him with a padlock." I looked up at them, confused.
"Are you saying that Merle is alive?" I asked in a low voice.
"Yeah"
"You fucking idiots. Don't you think that's the kind of information you should start with?!" I nearly shouted in Shane's face, seeing as he was the one to start all this show.
"Hell with all y'all. Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."
"He'll show you." Lori's voice was calm, but when I turned around to face her, she was anything but. Oh, I see how it is. The first day back and the Grimes family already got problems.
"Yeah, I'm going back."
*
As I was getting ready in my tent, I tried to not listen to what else people got to say about all that. I re-checked if my knives were secure and put my short sleeve blue flannel shirt over the reins. I checked if my Glock is fully loaded and put it in the holster on my right side. I put some water and granola bars in small backpack Glenn found in Atlanta some time ago.
I took my machete and made my way to the track I knew we gonna be taking. I could see Glenn already sitting in the driver's seat while Daryl was pacing the truck's back. I walked past Rick and T-Dog and put my machete down on the floor of the vehicle. I pushed myself up on my arms and got into the back of the truck, making Daryl stop his pacing.
He looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing "What the hell ya doing here, women?"
I just looked at him calmly and picked up my weapon "What does it look like I'm doing, Dixon? Did you really think that I would let you go without me?" He just scoffed and mumbled under his nose, something about a stupid woman.
"Hey! Don't go breaking my records now! We went all 15 days without you calling me stupid." At that comment, I could see his lips twitch just a little, and then he made his way to the seats at the front of the car and used his foot to pressed a horn.
"Hurry up, y'all!" Rick and T-Dog made their way towards us, the new guy was wearing a sheriffs uniform, I guess he was a cop just like Shane, before all this.
"Ma'am, I don't think it's safe for you to go with us. The city is completely overrun, and it might be dangerous." I let a small laugh escape my lips, the others following my steps, except Daryl, of course. That guy doesn't laugh.
"Rick, this is Elena, we were telling you about her last night." Glenn introduced me, and it got me really interested in what they were telling him about me.
"SSA Elena James, not that it matters anymore. Trust me, I had my experience with the dead already, and yet I'm still here alive." I spun my machete in a circle, careful to not nick Daryl with a blade. After that, we finally were ready to go, Rick taking the passenger side at the front, T-Dog climbing up to sit with younger Dixon and me.
*
The journey to Atlanta was uneventful, except few snarky comments from Daryl. Glenn finally parked the car, and we all jumped out, making our way to a chained fence, to go through it. The first time I saw the city after that day on a highway and boy let me tell you it was horrible.
The streets were abandoned except for a few geeks - or walkers, as Rick calls them. I could see abandoned cars and here and there we passed burned down buildings, seeing what napalm actually did to Atlanta and how deserted it looked.
It's kind of image you'd only see in a movie, laughing and asking your friends what would you do if apocalypse, of any kind, would hit. And now we fucking living it and it's scary to think about because it seems like humanity lost and what was left of us was in the minority.
"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl's gravelly voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It seems as he and Officer Friendly were having a go at each other. Again.
"We are. You know the geography, it's your call" That last part was intended for Glenn, who, in fact, like I mentioned before, is a walking map of Atlanta.
"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." I was so happy when Glenn said it. I didn't know if I could stop Daryl if he'd decide to punch Rick, or I should say I wasn't sure if I was willing to do so. I was pissed too, you don't leave people behind like that, it doesn't matter how fucking annoying they are.
We jogged through the streets for about five minutes before making it to the convenience store they left Merle in. I heard a low growl behind me and T, so I quickly spun on my heel and rose my blade into dead men's eye. He was wearing a suit, now shredded in many places, his stomach ripped open and once-white shirt now deep red and brown from all the blood.
As quickly as I sunk my machete in, I pulled it out, pushing caracas to the ground, making the rest of my group look at me. I gave a quick smile in their direction before advancing to the front, following Daryl through a ransacked shop. He gestured for me to take a right, while he went to the left and we both slowly and quietly moved forward, I heard the swish of Daryl's crossbow and then sound of a body going down. When I rounded the corner, I was met with an arrow pointed straight between my eyes. I used my left hand to gently push it down cocking my eyebrow a little.
"Come on, Dixon, you would be super sad if you'd kill me. Who would make you laugh and complement that sexy body of yours if I'd be gone?" He just rolled his eyes and scowled at me before going in the direction we should be going. I looked at Rick, and he had a weird expression on his face. Like a combination of disbelieve, amusement, and resentment all at this same time.
"Don't worry, Rick," T-Dog said, chuckling. "That's just the relationship they have, she pushes his buttons, and he tries not to kill her."
I sent a sweet smile in their direction and moved after Daryl. We finally made our way up the stairs to where the roof door was. When on the top, Daryl made space for T-Dog to use bolt cutters on a padlock and then kicked the door rushing first to get his brother. We all followed him through a platform to a pipe where Merle supposed to be. Yeah, supposed to be...
"No! No!" Daryl's cries broke me a little, he was pacing, and tears rolled down his face. The handcuffs were still attached to the pipe blood all over them, on the floor bloodied handsaw and... a hand.
Impatient prick cut off his own hand. Fuck.
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#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x oc#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead fandom#walkers#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead daryl#slow burn#excessive swearing
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Nothing Breaks Like A Heart: Chapter 2 part 1
So I had to split this into 2 chapters because it’s really long. I’m not big on regurgitating content but it was a good way to set the story up further. Going forward there will be more original content with some cannon thrown in. P.S. IDGAF about Cannon if it doesn’t work well for my story.
I’d love it if you reblogged, gave feedback, etc.
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Nora smiled to herself as she approached Bruce Banner, Natasha and Steve. She was ecstatic to meet Bruce Banner. She hadn’t seen Natasha in a while and well Steve was another story altogether.
“Is that the only word on me?” Bruce questioned Steve looking incredibly apprehensive.
“Only word I care about.” Such a Steve Rogers thing to say. She watches as Banner seemed to relax, if only slightly.
“Well he won’t be doing it alone.” Nora beamed at the 3 of them. “Besides myself I’m quite positive that my Uncle will show his face after getting through Coulson’s information bomb he gave us last night. No way is he missing out on this.”
“Nora Stark.” The red headed assassin smiled back at Nora.
“Good to see you Rusty. It’s been too long.”
“Well Tony isn’t my biggest fan. So I’ve steered clear.” Natasha shrugged.
“Well stop it. No one cares what he thinks.” Natasha shook her head at Nora. The attitude was 110% Tony Stark.
“Hello Nora.” Steve finally spoke after observing her.
“Hello Captain. Good to see you again.” She watched as the heat rose to his face and turned to Bruce Banner before she reacted and stuck her hand out.
“Well apparently my friends here forgot their manners. Dr. Banner, I’m Nora Stark. I’m a huge fan of your work. I’m really looking forward to working with you.” Bruce tentatively shook her hand.
“You’re not scared to be around me?” Bruce looked at her small stature and assumed she’d be terrified. She shrugged.
“Why would I be?” She smiled. Her kind eyes put him at ease. She linked her arms through Bruce’s. “C’mon Dr. Banner. Let’s go do what we nerds do so the super heroes can get to work” Nora gave Steve a wink only he could see and led them towards the Helicarrier.
“Okay Bruce, apparently Loki is in Germany. I highly doubt the Tesseract is with him.” Nora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I agree.” Bruce didn’t look up from the computer screen.
“I’m going to head out to Fury. I need to see this. Let me know when you need me.” Bruce nodded again and Nora headed out of the lab and down to the main section of the Helicarrier.
As she made her way out to the main deck, she could hear AC/DC over the comms and then her Uncle’s voice. “Agent Romanoff, you miss me?”
“I see I made it just in time for the show.” She crossed over to where Fury was standing and he Gave her a smirk.
“Make a move Reindeer Games” Nora watched as Natasha landed the Quinjet to capture Loki.
“He doesn’t have the tesseract with him. And we haven’t located it yet. But the staff he carries, the one that turned one of your best parents into a puppet. I’m thinking that might help us.”
“I agree, Nora. Go let Dr. Banner know what’s going on and both of you join us back here once they’re back on this ship.” Nora nodded at the order and headed to retrieve Dr. Banner. She turned her comm on so she could listen in to their ride with Loki and was privy to the fight between the three men.
A little while after Loki was on the ship, Nora made her way back down to the main deck to discuss Loki. Dr. Banner would be joining them shortly. As she approached she heard her Uncle refer to someone as “Point Break”. She rolled her eyes and made herself known.
“Oh good. You’re all done playing swords. Did you find out who’s the biggest or did you just waste our time?”
“See that’s what makes you my favorite Stark. You’re infinitely more funny than Tony.” Natasha and Nora smiled at each other.
“What? No! Absolutely not! You’re not helping on this mission!” Tony wasn’t exactly surprised to see Nora but he wasn’t going to allow her to jump into the line of danger.
“You say that like you still have a say in the choices I make” Nora scoffed at her Uncle. “You need me. If you didn’t Pepper wouldn’t have asked me to come and Fury wouldn’t have agreed to it.”
“Nora I know you’re brilliant but we can do this without you.” Tony shot back. Steve watched on with interest.
“No you can’t. You need my memory and my professional abilities.” Nora was just as stubborn as her Uncle. This wasn’t going to end quickly.
“Your memory? What does that mean.” Nora looked over to the heavy accented voice that was sitting at the table.
“You must be Thor" He nodded. I have a photographic memory. I remember every detail of everything.”
“That sounds very useful and overwhelming.” His understanding and empathy took Nora by surprise. It was overwhelming and incredibly useful. There were some things she wished she could forget, yet instead they plagued her dreams. “And what are these professional abilities?” Thor was intrigued by this tiny human.
“I have some pretty stellar computer skills.” Before Thor could question Nora further Tony was interrupting.
“Uh hello??? I have some pretty decent computer skills myself.” Nora rolled her eyes at the exact same time Tony did and the resemblance between her and Tony couldn’t be ignored. It made Thor smile.
“Obviously you know your way around a computer. But you know full well that you can’t hack like I can.”
“She’s right Tony.” Fury finally spoke. “She hacked the Pentagon on a dare in High School.”
“You what?!” Steve was shocked and Nora stood there with a proud smile on her face. He wouldn’t have thought she would do something like that.
“Sorry Captain. Sometimes you just have to bend the rules. Especially when your sexist classmate thinks he’s superior because he has a teeny tiny appendage between his legs” Thor audibly laughed.
“Yeah that was pretty impressive. I’m still pretty proud you did that.” Tony finally conceded. “Fine. I’m not going to argue with you anymore but if you’re going to be on this mission you need something a little more protective than whatever this is that you’re wearing.” He pointed up and down her body. She was clad in a leather pencil skirt, a denim button down shirt and sky high leopard print heels. Her normally long curly hair was straightened and in a high ponytail with braids on the top of her head.
“Well I asked you to make me a suit.” Nora shot back. Thor watched on enjoying the verbal ping pong match. He liked the fire in Nora Stark.
“So you can put yourself in more danger? Yeah, not likely.” Nick Fury stood up to put an end to the bickering.
“Nora- I had some special Kevlar made for you. There’s a locker with your name on it. You can change when you're ready.”
“Thanks Uncle Nick.” Nora gave Tony a dirty look and went and sat down next to Thor. She was drawn to him for some reason. She couldn't explain it. "So tell me about Asgard and this brother of yours" Steve watched as Thor and Nora seemed to be in a bubble. He had her undivided attention. She laughed at the things he said that weren’t meant to be funny but were because of Thor’s lack of Earth knowledge. She would place her hand on his arm as they spoke. Neither of them seemed to pay much attention to the people around them. He had to force himself to pay attention to what Fury was saying. He was surprised at how jealous he felt. He barely knew her. And he didn’t ever expect to find anyone that stirred feelings in him. Not the way Peggy did. It wasn’t the same, Peggy was Peggy. But Nora somehow set off a spark inside him. The first real connection he made before coming out of the ice.
Nora sighed and sat down on the bench in the locker room. She wanted her own “Iron Man” suit. Tony refused. Nora had contemplated just hacking into his system for the plans, but she couldn’t break her Uncle’s trust like that. She didn’t want him doing this alone. Maybe now that Steve was out of the ice he wouldn’t have to. She was always afraid that when he left in that Iron Man suit he wouldn’t come back. She knew Pepper had the same fears. Nora and Tony both had lost so much. They had been betrayed by people they had loved too. He wasn’t her father. No one could ever take Grant Starks place in her heart, but the relationship she and Tony had was something beyond parent and child. They were connected by loss and pain. They were connected by their similarities. They had the same snark, the same attitude and the Stark swagger. The swagger that sometimes acted as a protective bubble. Tony was Nora’s protector. Even when he was missing he was still protecting her. He had always had a plan in place with Rhodey and Pepper to keep her safe and loved if something happened and he couldn’t. All Nora wanted to do was protect him as well.
She stood and opened up the locker with her name and smiled at what Nick had left her. It was an all black Kevlar suit that looked like leather. It had straps across her hips and boots that went over her knees. There were a number of holsters to hold weapons or technological items. She wasn’t sure where Nick had found it, but it was perfect. It held her body like a glove. She was curvy but strong. She has never been skinny. Her body wasn’t built to be that small. She had accepted her flaws a long time ago and learned how to use them to her advantage.
She headed out of the locker room with plans to head back to the lab. Her eyes caught the door that she knew Loki was behind and she just couldn’t help herself. Her credentials allowed her to enter the room. There he stood. The God of Mischief in a round glass cage.
“Hello Loki.” He snapped his head up and studied her.
“The Dróttning av Gimsteinn” Loki’s voice was almost breathless. He hadn’t been expecting to see her and the words had poured from his mouth before he could stop them.
“What did you just say?” Nora stopped in her tracks and stared him down. Loki’s eyes bore into Nora’s and he didn’t respond. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll find out soon enough I suppose” Loki acted as uninterested in her as he possibly could. I’m reality he was buzzing on the inside. He thought it would be more difficult to get eyes on her. Nora narrowed her eyes at him. She took a step towards him and stopped.
“I’m not going to let you goad me into a reaction. When you get bored of this and want to tell me where the tesseract is, let me know. If I find it before you tell me, I can’t help you.” Before Loki could respond, she was gone. Loki smiled to himself. She was feisty. She liked to spar. This was going to be more fun than he originally thought.
Nora was wracking her brain trying to figure out what Loki called her as she was heading back. She didn’t even know what language it was. She was about to pull her phone out and try to search for what she thought he had said when she stumbled upon Steve trying to pry a set of doors open. Captain America breaking and entering? This was surprising. She crossed her arms in front of her body and leaned against the wall.
“Need some help Captain?” She smiled with a suggestive voice as Steve jumped. He turned and faced Nora sheepishly with red cheeks. He had on hand on the back of his neck and looked impossibly adorable.
“I was…I uh…” He was embarrassed for getting caught but what really had him stuttering was Nora. No one should look that good in Kevlar. He silently chastised himself for behaving like a 13 year old. Nora shook her head and without a word pushed herself off of the wall and approached the door Steve was trying to bust open. She pressed her palm to the lock pad. It read her palm print and prompted for the 2nd security key. “Stark, Nora Margaret”. Steve froze. Was Peggy apart of her life? It couldn’t be a coincidence that she was related to Howard Stark and her middle name was Peggy. Howard and Peggy has founded Sheild together. He wondered if Peggy had any sort of relationship with Nora’s father. He wanted to ask her about it, but it wasn’t the right time. Nora motioned him inside.
“After you.” Nora followed him into the room and the door shut behind him. “Mind telling me what we’re doing in here? What are you looking for?”
“I’m honestly not sure. Your Uncle is trying to get all of Sheild’s files as we speak. He seems to think Fury is hiding something.”
“Oh what a jack ass. He’s trying to hack in on his own instead of asking me. He’s trying to prove he doesn’t need me. I could have had those files in 5 minutes, 10 tops. Plus I have access to a lot of shit around here. Sheild is my family birth right. My father would have taken Howard’s place.”
“Wait- so you agree with Tony? You think he’s hiding something?”
“Don’t be so naive Captain. Of course he’s hiding something. He’s a super spy. His secrets have secrets!” Steve laughed. “What’s funny?”
“Your Uncle literally said the same thing. Word for word.” Nora’s eyes shone with pride. “Are you going to help me look?”
She threw her arms up in a shrug. “Kind of hard to help when I have zero clue what to look for. And how do you know I’m not in on it?”
“Call it a gut instinct.” Nora liked to banter and Steve was feeling brave. He was still feeling a little green after seeing her with Thor. Now was his chance to see if she was as just flirty or interested in him. He was a God. A good looking one at that. And while he felt like an idiot worrying about it when they had more important things to focus on, he had to know. “So you’re done flirting with Thor? You two seemed to hit it off right away.” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I wasn’t flirting! Why? Are you jealous?” Nora sauntered over to where Steve was leaning over a crate. She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned over so she could whisper in his ear. “Believe me Captain, if I’m flirting, you’ll know it.”
Nora’s breath was hot on his neck and it sent a chill down his spine. He was about to respond but his attention was pulled to the container in front of him. Steve opened a container. “I think I found what we’re looking for.” Steve watched as Nora pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Dammit.” The disappointment was radiating from her voice. “Sometimes, it’s really hard to separate the spy, the head of Shield, from the man that helped me become who I am today. The person my father revered. I just can’t.”
“I’m sorry Nora.” Steve put his hand on her shoulder.
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do this Steve.”
“No, but I know that feeling. And I’m sorry that you’re feeling it now.” Nora gave Steve a small smile.
“Thank you. God this is all so messed up. Let’s go to the lab. I’d like to talk to Nick and I need to ask Thor some questions about his brother.” Steve picked up the container and the two of them headed back to her Uncle and Dr. Banner.
Nora could heat heated voices as she and Steve approached the lab. So heated that they didn’t even notice the two of them enter in the middle of Bruce’s sentence.
“…When we get a hit, we’ll have the location within half a mile.” Nora could tell he was trying to control his temper. Tony picked up where Bruce left off. The two of them were a team already.
“And you’ll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss. What is Phase Two?” Tony wanted answers. Nora knew that look in his eye.
Nora jumped as Steve slammed the case down on the counter. “ Phase Two is SHIELD used the Cube to make weapons.” Steve answered for Fury and then directed himself towards Tony. “Sorry, computer was moving a little slow for me.”
Nora gave Tony a dirty look. “I literally could have gotten it within 10 minutes tops. Stop trying to prove that you don’t need me.”
“Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we’re-“ Before Fury could finish Tony flipped the screen to reveal a plan for a missile. Nora pit her face in her hands. This was only going to get worse.
“I’m sorry, Nick. What were you lying?” Nora clenched her jaw. She didn’t know what to say to calm the waters because she was just as angry as the rest of them. She pulled herself from her thoughts as Natasha and Thor came into the lab.
“You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?” Bruce laughed in Natasha’s face.
“I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed.” Nora ignored their verbal ping pong as she went over to the monitor to check on the Tesseract. She paused and eyed Loki’s staff curiously. When she focused back on the group Fury was explaining why Sheild wanted to create these weapons.
“Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly- hilariously, out-gunned.” Nora was going to tell Nick he was right but that he should have been upfront but Thor interjected before she had the chance.
“My people want nothing but peace with your planet.”
“But you’re not the only people out there, are you? And, you’re not the only threat. The world’s filling up with people who can’t be matched, they can’t be controlled.” Fury shot back quickly. Nora couldn’t focus on what they were saying anymore. Her attention was drawn back to Loki’s staff like it was pulling her in. Bits and pieces of the argument would break through. She couldn’t focus on who was saying what as her head started to pound and the sceptor started to glow..
“Nuclear deterrent! ’Cause that always calms everything right down.”
“ I’m sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep-“
“How is this now about me?”
“I’m sorry, isn’t everything?”
“I thought humans were more evolved than this.”
“I swear to God, Stark, one more crack...”
Nora felt more dizzy and tried to focus on Steve’s voice, though she wished she hadn’t. “Yeah, big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?” Why was Steve attacking her Uncle? He didn’t know what he was talking about. Nora felt too woozy to feel any anger at that point.
“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”
“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I’ve seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.” He was wrong. He didn’t know what Tony Stark was about. He put on a front but he was a hero. He took the world on his shoulders. Nora remembered Tony destroying all of the weapons sold to our enemies. She wanted to scream at Rogers but her head hurt too badly to speak. Tony’s voice cut through the pain.
“A hero, like you? You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”
“Put on the suit, let’s go a few rounds.”
“Steve, Tony- Stop” Nora begged. Her voice wasn’t loud enough for them to hear her. She was sure it was Loki’s scepter causing them to act like this. It was what messed with Barton’s head. Loki had wanted it to be here, to cause this dissension. Finally Bruce’s yelling caused everything to stop.
“IN CASE YOU NEEDED TO KILL ME. BUT YOU CAN’T, I KNOW, I TRIED!” He stopped and saw that everyone is staring at him and he continued. “I got low. I didn’t see an end so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk. You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?”
“Oh Bruce...” Nora could feel his pain and anger, how broken he felt. He was holding the scepter while Fury and Natasha hand their hands on their guns. Nora was white as a sheet.
“Please Bruce. That thing is making you all act like this. Please put it down. No one is going to cage you, I promise..”
“Nora?” Tony’s voice was full of worry. She looked sick. She had barely said a word during the argument. She normally would tell Tony if he was being an ass or defend him if he was right. Steve took a deep breath, sighed and looked at Bruce.
“Doctor Banner, put down the scepter.” Banner looked down, surprised to see the spear in his hand. Suddenly the monitor made a noise, signaling the Tesseract has been located. Bruce put the scepter back on the table and walked over to the screen on the other side of the room. Nora walked over to the table and lightly touched the scepter, knowing it was the source of her pain. She just didn’t know why. She yanked her hand back and turned towards her Uncle.
Suddenly Tony turned to leave but Steve put his arm out to stop him. “You’re not going alone Stark!” Tony smacked Steve’s hand away.
“You gonna stop me?” Nora groaned. Taking steps towards the two men.
“Put on the suit, let’s find out!
“ I’m not afraid to hit an old man.”
“Will the two of you stop acting like children?!” Nora was pleading with them. Then she heard Banner yelling and then an explosion. Nora flew into Steve, he grabbed her by the waist as he and Tony fell near the entry way. Steve turned her so she would fall on him instead of the floor protecting her head and neck. The next thing she knew Steve was pulling her along with Tony.
#Avengers#Avengers FanFiction#Steve Rogers#Steve Rogers FanFiction#Captain America#Captain America FanFiction#Steve Rogers x OC#captain america x oc#Stark OC#Tony Stark#Tony Stark FanFiction#Marvel#Marvel FanFiction#MCU#MCU FanFiction#Steve Rogers Imagine#captain america imagine#Steve Rogers x Stark OC
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⚡️ IM NAYOUNG ⚡️ for kt ent. -- starbright ‘17!
dance: black by katie lee ( 0:43 - 1:28 ) rap: dream girl by lc9 ( 2:12 - 2:27 )
she doesn’t want to be here, but she doesn’t want to be anywhere else, either. this is the opportunity she’s been waiting for, what that feeling in her gut has been telling her to chase after ever since she saw sooyoung in the mgas. that same feeling tells her that this is where she needs to be right now, that nothing else in the world is more important at this moment.
of course, it’s kind of drowned out by the sheer panic that comes from the thought of an actual audition. she could barely handle just talking to a camera in the interview stage; how the hell is she supposed to actually perform in front of a panel of judges?
she takes deep breaths as she follows the kt employee through the unfamiliar halls. this is where sooyoung is all the time, nayoung can’t help thinking. if this goes well, i could join her. the hopeful thought makes her wince, because the last thing she wants is to get her hopes too high and have them crushed.
she suddenly misses her cat, wishes she could be home cuddling with mina in bed. it’s a panic-induced thought, she knows, but she can’t help but feel it deeply. she squeezes her hand into a fist, focusing on the sharp pain of her nails digging into her palm to ground her, bring her back to herself. it’s probably not a very healthy coping mechanism, but it works – it helps her focus on counting her breaths, ignoring the panicked thoughts racing through her mind, now banished to the dark corners to come back at some point later.
she wonders where sooyoung is now. somewhere in this building, she’s sure – the elder had told nayoung which days she usually went to the seocho building. part of nayoung wishes she’d told sooyoung about the callback, wishes the elder knew to come wish her luck before going in. but most of her thinks that this is how it should be: nobody else knows about her callback, and nobody’s hopes have been brought up except her own. the only person she risks disappointing today is herself.
they’ve reached hallway that seems to have been converted to a makeshift waiting area, with several chairs lined up along the wall. the staff member hands nayoung a sheet of paper to pin to her shirt – her own name printed in big letters, so the judges will know who they’re watching when they look back on her video. after gesturing her to what’s apparently an assigned seat, the staff leaves her to sit with the strangers in the hall, all of whom are also wearing their names on their fronts and most of whom look at least as nervous as nayoung feels.
closing her eyes, she begins mouthing the lyrics to her song, focusing hard on that to avoid thinking about anything else, about the others kt is auditioning. after running through the rap several times, she thinks of the song she’ll be dancing to and starts doing the gestures of the dance, though she keeps it small, just reminding herself that she still remembers the choreography.
she doesn’t know how long they wait. she loses count of how many times she silently rehearses, but soon enough the girl in front of her is called in to the room they’re sitting outside, and nayoung’s chest clenches in panic. she’s going second.
when her name is called, nayoung stands up and does her best to ignore the nervous nausea that sweeps over her. she can’t help her trembling as she walks to the door and follows the staff member into the room, where there’s a camera set up next to a long table of judges. nayoung’s eyes scan the table quickly, and her mouth drops open when she instantly recognizes katie lee sitting in the middle. i’m going to dance to a katie lee song in front of katie lee, is her first ridiculous thought.
she bows as she walks to the middle of the room, handing her flash drive with the music to the staff member who showed her in. she feels like her throat’s closed up, and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to even speak, let alone rap.
“i-i’m–” her voice cracks, and she winces a little before clearing her throat and trying again. “i’m im nayoung. i-i’ll be dancing t-to…” she meets katie lee’s eyes and stops speaking, nerves closing her throat again before she forces the words out. “katie lee’s black,” she says, giving the woman a jerky nod. “then i’ll be rapping to lc9′s dream girl.”
the music starts, and its familiarity settles her slightly. she’s glad that she decided to start with dancing. it’s more familiar, more comfortable, and will hopefully help her nerves settle.
after just a few short notes, nayoung throws herself into the first move, swinging her arms over her head and bending down at her hips. from there, the dance comes easy to her, though she keeps careful counts in her head so that she doesn’t accidentally rush – that’s been her consistent problem in practice.
the dance is more sensual than she usually does, but she likes it. she’s been working on it for a few weeks now, and she’s long since gotten over the embarrassment of the sexier parts of the dance, which were added at sooyoung’s suggestion. the dance technically isn’t anything like contemporary or ballet, but it’s nayoung’s personal style, which combines the smooth gracefulness of those with the modern popping of hip hop. the song is perfect for it, too – with a solid percussion bass under the smooth vocals and consistent acoustics, it’s like the song was meant for her dance.
as if to communicate this, nayoung finds herself meeting eyes with katie lee during the parts of the dance where she’s facing the judges, her eyes ignoring the camera and skipping over the other faces to land on the artist of this song, the ceo of the company nayoung’s trying to get into. in her eyes is a daring kind of charisma that doesn’t show up when she’s speaking, that isn’t there except for when she’s dancing.
she doesn’t have the regular charisma of most idols, doesn’t find it easy to even introduce herself or get through a simple interview. but she’s a performer – it’s this determined, challenging charisma that kept her on the rink for so long, that got her to the junior grand prix twice. this is why she ultimately chose to dance for this audition, because this is what she wants to show kt. this is her true talent.
when she gets to the end of the chorus, she steps up and pops her limbs and head a few times, her ponytail jerking with every dramatic movement of her head. she ends the dance with a hand on the front of her leg, the other extended slightly near her hip. her eyes are still locked with katie lee’s until she breaks the contact, brushing a few loose strands of red hair out of her face and stepping back to the center of the room, trying to catch her breath.
“next i’ll be rapping to lc9′s dream girl,” she says, not giving herself any more time than absolutely necessary to catch her breath. she’ll rap a cappella, not needing the music for this. it would just detract from the focus of her rapping, especially with the high note that covers up the final lines. after licking her lips and taking a deep breath, nayoung begins to rap.
the feeling of seeing your eyes, your lips, you’re so beautiful
she didn’t choose this song because she identified with the lyrics, but because she’s known the rap since shortly after the song was released. she’s loved lc9 for years, and has supported every comeback of theirs since their debut. she was lucky enough to see them in concert in seoul twice since she got into them, and she thinks it’s only appropriate that her first company audition – and for kt, no less – include one of their songs.
the rap lines come easily to her after years of doing them along with the song and under her breath when the song has been stuck in her head, and after the constant practicing of it she’s done in the last few days.
from one to a hundred, i treat you gently the day you chose me is when the world stops you’re my world
when the end of the song comes, nayoung opens her eyes and lowers her hands – she hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes, or that she’d been gesturing along with the imaginary beat while she rapped. the room is strangely silent now, lacking the sound of nayoung’s rap filling the room. she doesn’t find it difficult to speak anymore, and her eyes find katie lee’s again as she bows. “thank you for your time,” she says, her voice lacking all the shakiness and nerves from before.
when she straightens, she meets katie lee’s eyes one last time before bowing shallowly again and turning to leave.
it’s amazing what one minute of performing could do – it turned her nervous panic to adrenaline, and nayoung can’t help but smiling to herself as she leaves the room, following the staff’s directions to sit back down on her seat. a kind of giddiness fills her now, after what felt like a successful display of her talents.
that’s what she thinks about now, focusing on how good it feels to just perform, not letting herself think about the potential results of that performance, which she still knows was an audition.
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MORE ASKS I’VE BEEN IGNORING!!!!!!!
GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE HOT
P.S. ALL OF U WHO SENT ME THE CHAIN THINGY ILYSOMUCH
Why is her step-douche such a foken piece of shit? omg i hate him
some mysteries are never meant to be explained tbh. why is he so ugly and evil? who wronged him? but also who cares he’s in jail forever now good riddance ugly
I know this is probably really bad, but after I saw the newest molly posts, I thought of that video where the little girl is yelling "MISS KEISHA, MISS KEISHA, oh my fukin gosh she fukin dead"
OMFGFD I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT VIDEO WAS SO I JUST WATCHED IT AND I’M LAUGHIN
i don’t blame u i bet when it happens i’m gonna be like “u know she ded”
(To the previous anon) i agree with you so, so much! In Poland, these dumbass politicians are letting shooting pregnant bisons (?? Im not sure how they're called) become legal. Like BITCH WHAT. Can you imagine??? A fucking pregnant lil' cow getting shot????? I feel Molly's pain on an emotional level rn (sorry if this is too nsfw, just needed to get that outta my system...)
i think this was in response to someone saying that hurting pregnant women is one of the worst crimes but um WTF shooting animals at all makes me itchy but pregnant ones..............nah that’s......nah
it’s ok get it outta ur system i’m here 4 u
the first thing I check in the morning is your account.... you have me whipped! ;|
OMG WHA LMAO REALLY that’s wild. i feel like i’m the only one who looks at my page which is dumb but like idk i still feel like a little kid that no one cares about lmao. but then you guys exist and amaze me with your responsiveness every day and i just ;____________; ily all
hi Sunny. first of all i'm gonna say i love your story and your editing style so much! your blog is goals like literally. i need an advice if you don't mind. you always find such amazing angles for your pictures while mine are so boring. any tips or tricks you can share?
HI thank you so much ;-; sooooo i’ve been thinking about this question the past couple of times i went in game, trying to figure out how to describe how i take pictures. for one thing i live in tab mode lmao. meaning you press the tab button on your keyboard to go into camera mode and get all these sexy angles and super zoom and stufffff. i almost always zoom in super far idk why. so there’s one tip. i honestly just play around with going up and down with the q and e keys (i think?) until i find angles i like. i take a lottttt of pictures with so many different angles just so i have a lot to choose from. basically i try to focus on different things in each picture in order to get a mix of the most diverse and dynamic shots possible. you just need to experiment and get creative. i know that’s the most vague advice ever but really just try a new angle that you’ve never considered before and i bet you’ll get cool results. an interesting setting is also the biggest factor, because certain objects and their placements will give you interesting results.
i honestly want to print out your reaction pic to that one post and just hang it on my wall, put it in my heart locket necklace, stamp it on people's faces, start an email thread with it. i love it.
an add on to the last ask i sent about your reaction pic. i've been looking at it religiously since it was posted, and i dont regret a minute of it. LMAO I'LL STOP NOW.
SAKJDLJKGKSDAF STOPPPP LMAOOO i looked so ugly but that was my pure unadulterated reaction to that question and i trust you all to not judge my ugliness and instead share this reaction with me. i’m glad u liked it that much, i just printed it out and i’m cutting it into a small heart to put inside ur locket ok
everytime i hear cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant i think of a serious case of the novembers like its so fitting and then i get all emo when i listen to it lmao rip
OMMMMGGGGGGG YESSSSS how have i never made that connection before honestly. cage the elephant is one of my faves and i’ve seen them perform twice actually!! i’m watching the music vid for that song now and even that reminds me of my story ;-; i cry
thank you for sending this, and also i cry @ the fact that you used the actual title *dies* now this song is gonna make me emo til the end of time thx
i might sound like some crazy stalker fan but i just want to say you are so freakin awesome and nice and funny and cute and (i can go on forever) so caring! i love your blog so much and all the hard work and care you put into all your posts and followers. thanks for making my day and making me smile so much. you have no clue how much i look forward to seeing your posts and your hilarious hashtags and answers from asks and AMAZING story posts. im sorry i just wanted to let you know ur awesome ily
OFMG WHAT!!!!!! I AM ONLY AN EEL!!!!!! but no you don’t sound like a crazy stalker, i actually love this, you’re too sweet, thank you ;-; i’m just blushin so much reading this omg. YOU EVEN LIKE MY TAGS WOW that’s true love. ily ;-; <333
how do you get your sims' facial expressions to line up with your scenes? I feel like my sims' faces are never right :(
tbh i just use a lot of the same neutral poses...my go-to’s are @helgatisha‘s poses lol. they’re the easiest to work with when i do just plain talking scenes, and often i tweak my sims’ eyebrows and mouths with the liquify tool if i want them to look a bit more concerned, sad, mad, happy, etc., it works like a charm!! i also tend to play around with angles, you’d be surprised how much a different angle can enhance a scene.
Hey smol bean, I'm sent you an ask and now I feel bad that it probably made you feel anxious because you didn't answer it. It was the one about you not liking my posts, I have anxiety too so I'm sorry If I made you feel sad. I think I'm just looking for validation from people I look upto you get me? Anyway sorry again, don't worry about it! Love you!
hiya bb, i know you saw my answer to your original post (and i’m sorry it got some negative attention, i didn’t mean for that to happen by any means) anyway don’t sweat it, and i really appreciate this follow-up message. you didn’t make me feel sad, i just wanna know what i can do. it’s just a hard question y’know. i understand what you mean, i think everyone wants validation to some degree. tbh you can just come off anon and message me, i promise it’s not as nerve-wracking as it seems! ily
How did you make Santi's tattoos? I want some like that for my Sims but idk how to do it
boop
I HAVE A FEELING THAT MOLLY IS GOING TO DIE DURING THE BIRTH OF THE BEAN OR IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH HER STEPFATHER FINDING OUT ABOUT THE BEAN
WELP U WERE RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING
how did you make your characters page on your blog like that?
uoohhh like what?? i used this theme (monolog) if that’s what you mean aheh. here’s a guide on how to use custom page themes
okay so THIS IS MY THEORY: they might keep the baby and molly might actually carry it to full term, but then the kid dies in childbirth and either molly also dies or maybe kills herself or gets killed later? or maybe she's still alive but just won't speak to santi anymore cause she like can't look him in the eye after all of that or idk?? since ppl were sending theories i wanted to add mine lmao. another possible theory is that the stepdad finds out and kills her but thats TOO DARK omg
TOO DARK U SAY...WELL!!! it’s not AS dark as you guessed but only marginally
If Molly turns out to be alive and raising their kid alone (though from what I'm seeing in response to most questions I think that may not be the route) am I allowed to slap Santi (unless Molly didn't give him the option to help) because raising a child alone is not easy I've watched my mom do it for years.
YEAH i would give you permission to slap him lmao he would be a grade A piece o’ shit if that were the case. i would never ever write that tho because santi does own up to his actions if they’re that detrimental. his altruistic nature, no matter how backwards, would never allow him to do that.
There will be complication with the abortion so she will not be able to carry a baby anymore and she's going to kill herself OR her step dad is going to find out and he'll beat her to death. And in both situation Santi his blaming himself because he wasn't there at the right time... Okay I really really hope I'm wrong now !
I don't even follow your story very closely but every time I see your posts my heart hurts.
OMFG...that’s how u know the pain is real
but like wow my stuff is really so visceral that even my apathetic followers can feel the hurt...that’s real...that’s real my guy
omg!! you should 100% play or at least watch a playthrough of life is strange! legit the best game ever made, its so beautiful. the storyline kills you a thousand times over (much like your beautiful story) <3333
yaaaa i’ve heard lots of good things about it!! my bf played it actually, maybe he’ll revisit it again someday and i’ll watch him do it (i’m only a fan of video games if i can watch them like a movie lmao) thank you btw <3
I am shook and I worship you and your story and you are amazing WOW BYE
WORSHIP LMAO WHAT!!! PLS I AM UNDESERVING...ily tho don’t worship false gods
Do you let Molly and the younger versions of your characters frolic around your main save or do they have a separate one?
UM YES LMAO because i didn’t even know you could have separate saves until after i started the flashbacks lmao i’m...a noob. i don’t want separate saves anyway because 1) it’s too much of a hassle switching back and forth and 2) it gets too confusing for me and i’d be afraid of overwriting one save with another and NOPE too much anxiety for that soooo yeah there’s three santis in my game: child, teen and adult lmfao (fun fact: teen santi’s name is literally just Lil Santi)
I made it to my senior year with 6 A's and 1 B ... Be proud of me too? 😂 Lmao I told this to people and some of them were just like .. okay cool?! LMAO it's so funny but also kinda sad
I AM PROUD OF YOU TOO!!!!!!!!! my smart childrens
“okay cool” UM PLEASE that’s a feat...at my school if you got an A in a class in senior year you were allowed to be exempt from the final. so yeah that rules. ily
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Not so haute: six writers on their biggest fashion mistakes
From tights on the beach to head-to-toe taffeta, writers reveal the outfits they regret
Kenya Hunt My version of day-to-night dressing was a night-time look worn all day
Despite working at a fashion magazine, Ive made a few sartorial mistakes. I comfort myself with the sentiment of an Instagram edict I saw: If youve never looked a little dumb, youre not having fun.
Id count the moment I met my husband as an off day, so it pains me no end that the clothes I wore have become a part of our marital lore. In his mind, the outfit is key to a story that must be retold, again and again: She wore a shiny shirt, tight jeans, big, gold hoop earrings, tall boots and a giant white furry jacket. And I said, I need to know this woman.
This visual loudness the metallics, the big proportions, the shaggy texture was my everyday look back in my late 20s, when I was living and working in New York. I dressed this way to please no one other than myself. I relished being able finally to buy and wear the labels I read about in magazines, but could never find in my suburban childhood home in Virginia.
My version of day-to-night dressing was basically a night-time look worn all day ready for whatever fun might happen later. Id think nothing of a morning commute in glittery Miu Miu heels or a gold Chlo sequin skirt. (To be fair, it was the era of high heels, flashy coats and skirts that were either very big and long, or very short.) No matter what the prevailing trend, Ive always had a soft spot for the razzle. For further proof, see this old image of me in Milan, in bright colour and print, layered on top of more colour and print.
Now, my wardrobe stands on a foundation of grey, navy and black, mostly because it suits my lifestyle and the London weather. I limit the flamboyance to my accessories (a bright shoe, big earring, bold handbag) or show it through shape, such as an enormous puffer jacket. Its just that now I choose pragmatic black rather than hot pink.
Theres a real joy that comes with loud dressing, because it requires a certain kind of go-to-hell spirit. Ive come to indulge this in a more restrained way, but I dont regret the mistakes. If I did, Id have divorced my husband a long time ago, for telling that story so very, very often.
Kenya Hunt is fashion features director of Elle.
Ruth Lewy: To think that this was my coolest look
Ruth Lewy, aged 20, with Dizzee Rascal.
It was May 2006 and I was coming to the end of my first year of university. I had just received my first proper student journalism commission: an interview with Dizzee Rascal. I borrowed a Dictaphone and hastily scrawled down three pages of uninventive questions (What is the best thing youve ever got for free?).
Now the important bit: my look. I loved Dizzee; I knew his two albums back to front and had mastered all the words to Fix Up, Look Sharp. What was I going to wear?
To think, looking back, that this was my very best outfit. My coolest look. Not one floral print top but two, a T-shirt layered over a shirt. Not one necklace, but two. (Made with beads collected while InterRailing around Europe. I know.) My curly hair was slicked back with Brylcreem. Off I went, looking like Laura Ashleys long-lost daughter.
He was courteous, holding eye contact and answering all my inane questions with grace. (The best thing he ever got for free? A lifetimes supply of trainers.) I stood up and shook his hand, and he invited me to his afterparty. The next student journalist sat down and went straight in with a question about homophobic lyrics and issues of representation in pop music, and I thought, Ohhhh, thats what journalism is.
The evening took a strange turn. My friends and I crowded into a bar on the high street, where Dizzee had a roped-off section at the back. It didnt take him long to zone in on my gorgeous friend L, persuading her to leave with him. We were agog.
Twenty minutes later, she was back, laughing her head off at the way he had clumsily propositioned her. She chose us over him.
What do I see when I look at this picture? I feel embarrassed at my choices. But Im also glad I spent my 20s dressing like a weirdo: it demonstrates a self-confidence that I dont think I appreciated at the time. These days, you could still file most of my clothes under eclectic, but Im much more careful, uninventive even. Now I tend to wear only one necklace at a time.
My interview never appeared in the end; the other journalist broke the embargo (she went on to write for the Daily Mail: go figure). I was left with only this blurry picture, a reminder of my youthful enthusiasm for floral prints, and an uncanny impression of Dizzee Rascals best chat-up line.
Ruth Lewy is assistant editor of Guardian Weekend.
Nosheen Iqbal: Everyone else on the beach was 89% naked
Nosheen Iqbal in Tuscany, aged 21.
I was a skittish 21-year-old in the mid noughties and I had, against my will, ended up on a Tuscan beach. It was the height of summer, but I was wearing thick black tights, thicker black skirt, black scarf and witchy pumps . Everyone else was dressed in 89% naked and the entire beach was rammed. Id been sent on a work trip with four other journalists who were, as far as I was concerned, super-old (fortysomething) and, I hoped, probably willing to buy my stubborn refusal to strip as some cool youth thing. (They didnt.) I made an attempt to style it out by looking casually moody, staring out to sea behind sunglasses, pretending not to notice my shoes sinking in the sand, legs looking like inky black stumps.
Why dont you take off your tights?
No.
What about if
No.
A couple of key things: the seaside was not on my itinerary and I hadnt packed for it. I didnt (and dont) own swimwear or a bikini, and I didnt (and dont) know how to swim.
Being Muslim is barely an excuse to look as daft as I did; there are chic ways to be modest by the sea childhood memories of Karachis Clifton beach were proof, where lawn cotton tunic and trousers were everyones friend. But being Muslim, plus an average level of body dysmorphia, was my bikini body ready get-out card. I knew there had to be more comfortable ways to be in public than permanently sucking my stomach in wearing what is, essentially, waterproof underwear. But 100-denier hosiery was definitely not the answer.
The general advice to give a shy 21-year-old should always be, Its not as bad as you think, to allay their disproportionate embarrassment. Except, in this case, the cringe levels are fully warranted; I havent been to a hot, sunny beach since.
Nosheen Iqbal is a commissioning editor for G2.
Morwenna Ferrier: I cant remember why I decided to cut off my hair
Morwenna Ferrier in Aldeburgh in her early 20s.
Other outfits have been more challenging. The mother-of-pearl bustier I wore to my graduation, say. Or, recently, the T-shirt printed with Valerie Solanass Scum manifesto I wore to meet a friends baby. But the outfit I am wearing here, worn on a walk along Aldeburgh beach in Suffolk, is the one I most regret.
It started a few months earlier when, in my early 20s, I decided to cut off my hair. I cant remember why. I imagine I fancied a change and, in fairness, I liked it. But then, I looked like a boy in a dress. I reacted by phasing out dresses and instead wearing drainpipes, striped T-shirts and headscarves. None of this was good. In the photo, Im wearing tight cropped trousers under the dress.
I had spent my late teens in dresses, grungy or flowery, with self-cut hems. It was a more innocent time, when I didnt really care what I wore. But the haircut triggered an anxiety.
What is it I regret? Back then it was the haircut; now, its that I ever worried about looking like a boy. I clearly hadnt been paying attention in those Judith Butler seminars; maybe I was still too attached to the binary. As my hair grew out, I started to care for the first time about how I looked. At 24, late in life, I became self-conscious.
Morwenna Ferrier is the Guardians online fashion editor.
Pam Lucas: I looked like a turkey at Christmas
Pam Lucas at a family party, aged 39.
As a single parent in the 80s, I was dirt poor. I didnt have the opportunity to make fashion faux pas because I didnt have any money. We shopped in jumble sales, and we had fun.
My family was invited to a party to celebrate my aunt and uncles golden wedding anniversary. I didnt know them that well, but my mum wanted me to impress them by looking modern. In the 80s, that meant puffy sleeves and big shoulders. My mother came with me to buy the outfit from BHS , so I had to comply. I was 39 at the time.
It was a beautiful colour between purple and lilac but I didnt like the synthetic fabric. It was watermarked all over and had a flared, taffeta skirt and a little jacket with a peplum. I looked like a turkey at Christmas, but it was such a fab party, I soon forgot how uncomfortable I felt.
In a way the outfit is a testament to my relationship with my mother. I was a grownup, with a child of my own, but she was still trying to keep hold of the mum bit of herself.
Pam Lucas is a model and appears regularly in All Ages.
Tshepo Mokoena: I settled on a vague hippy child look
Tshepo Mokoena at 19.
It would be nice if we could start over. To spare me, and others my age, a fair bit of niggling shame, by wiping all early photos from our Facebook accounts. Anyone who set up a profile between 2004 and 2009 now lugs around the digital baggage of horrible pictures of misspent youth and terrible outfits.
Case in point: this delight of a photo. I was 19, killing time between the second and third years of uni in Brighton. In a few weeks, my housemate and I would set off on an impulsive charity volunteering trip to Kerala because and I still cringe wed watched Wes Andersons The Darjeeling Limited.
Until my early 20s, my aesthetic consisted of not knowing when to edit. At 18, I would layer at least three beaded necklaces, two chunky bracelets, about 17 bangles and seven rings, for no good reason.
I attended secondary school in Harare, Zimbabwe, largely insulated from fashion, more concerned with my whizzing hormones than the latest velour tracksuit. I settled on a vague hippy child look at 15 and filled my wardrobe with earthy prints, flared denim and jewellery picked up in local markets. By 19, I looked like a substitute art teacher.
If youre old enough to have only private, analogue photography from your youth, or young enough to have crafted a near-fictional version of yourself online, youre spared the permanent reminder of your mistakes: 1,287 grim images owned by Mark Zuckerberg. I implore other twentysomethings to join me in calling for a digital purge. Its time.
Tshepo Mokoena is the editor of Noisey.
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