#also don’t get me started on people who thought buck should dive straight back into work after a submassive PE
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Me, a doctor, tryna have a good time watching 9-1-1: 🥰
*chimney saying “it doesn’t make sense to shock him he’s in full cardiac arrest!”*
Me: 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠
#send help#WHAT DO YOU MEAN CHIM#you can be in full cardiac arrest and still have a shockable rhythm!!!!!#as bad as when Jonah was giving people adenosine then SHOCKING them after?!!#I love this dumb wee woo show but my god the medicine is out to lunch sometimes#9-1-1#also don’t get me started on people who thought buck should dive straight back into work after a submassive PE#side note he had major orthopaedic surgery and then was immobile for months#that’s MORE than enough reason for a blood clot#which btw would start in his leg and then migrate to his lungs#so it’s not like he had 3 clots. he likely had a large DVT that migrated#given he had been exerting himself after being waylaid#in any case my boy nearly died.#second side not haemoptysis in a PE wouldn’t look like that
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THE ONLY SECONDS THAT MATTER
CHAPTER FOURTEEN IS UP!
Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: 18+
Includes: Extensive horse nerdery + cowboys, mxm romance (1 trans + 1 cis), some discussion child abuse, some instances of trans/homophobia (it is rural Oklahoma, y'all), depression, occasional sex scene (but it’s a slow burn for sure)
Victor Ortiz-Bennett had some reservations about moving to Oklahoma, but his late aunt willed him a 70-acre horse farm, and he decides to fulfill his dream of running and operating his own training facility. Victor’s been around the reining horse show circuit for a while, and he’s ready to settle down, travel less, and spend more time with the horses he loves and away from the people he can do without. That is, until he picks up a horse at an auction with a bucking problem he can’t fix, and he has to take her to the one guy who can ride anything– Johnny Stearns, a retired professional rodeo rider.
Johnny Stearns is loud, chatty, eccentric, and fears nothing, exactly Victor’s opposite. However, Victor finds himself sinking into an odd friendship with this new foul-mouthed cowboy without a filter, diving deeper into the mess that is Johnny’s life until there’s no way to extract himself from it. Johnny may talk a tough game, but there’s more to him than he’ll let most people see. Victor knows getting in too deep will mean a rough ride, but if there’s anything Johnny’s taught him, it’s how to stay in the saddle.
Excerpt:
What are you doing here?” Victor asked.
“Uh, well…” Johnny cleared his throat, sounding unsure of himself. “I came with Sarah. You remember Sarah?”
“Your friend from high school?”
“Yeah, her sister’s… you know. Gay. So she asked if I wanted to come with her and I figured it might be fun.”
Victor stared at him, still too stunned for the information to sink in. When it did, the heart in his throat slowly started drifting back down into his chest. “Oh. So you’re not—I mean. This is just for Sarah’s sister. You know her?”
“She’s nice, yeah. She and Sarah are close.” Johnny paused, turning to stare out into the darkness for a moment. An announcer could be heard in the distance as the crowd clapped. “I guess this means you’re, uh—”
“Gay? Yeah.” It felt weird to say it out loud. After coming out as trans to his family back in California, he’d fallen out of practice with the act of talking about it. He’d been terrified of Johnny knowing, afraid that Johnny would reject him and the friendship they’d built over months would be reduced to rubble. A glimmer of hope spread through him, because even if Johnny was only here as some kind of straight ally for his friend’s sister, it meant that he could accept Victor for who he was, and Victor didn’t have to go through all the hoops required to hide it.
“I didn’t know that,” Johnny muttered. “You coulda told me.”
“I didn’t know how you felt about gay people,” Victor admitted. Should he also tell him he was trans? May be it was best to do one thing at a time, really test the waters before diving in. “This is rural Oklahoma. Can’t blame me for being paranoid.”
“I know I’m dumb white trash, but I ain’t no Bible thumper. It don’t matter to me.”
Victor let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “That’s great. I’m glad to hear it.”
“I never even thought—I mean you don’t act—” Johnny cut himself off and cleared his throat again. “I ain’t about to put my foot in my mouth, but you know what I mean.”
Victor had to laugh a little. “I can be gayer, I’m just stealthy for safety reasons.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Johnny paused again. “You’re a decent calf roper.”
“Thanks. It’s not really my forte, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”
“You here with Jade?”
“No, I came alone.”
“You need help with anythin’?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thank you though.”
Johnny turned toward the trailer, glancing toward the truck and then back. “This thing got livin’ quarters in it?”
“It’s just a small space, but yeah.”
Johnny’s response didn’t come immediately, but finally he faced Victor and asked, “Can I take a look?”
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Tae’s first time with a virgin if your still taking requests?
Virgin
A/n: Thank you for the request! It was fun to write. Enjoy xx 💜💜💜
Trigger warning: Smut, first time, oral, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic, dirty talk, mild spanking.
Taehyung
Dom!Taehyung
You pull out your phone and type the message. Over and over. Deleting it and re-writing it about 30 times.
Until you see the typing bubble pop up on Taehyung's side.
If you have something to say, get it out. He writes.
Damn. You really should have written this on paper first. But too late now.
You had spoken with Taehyung for months and had met him in person for the first time last week. With clever wording, so far you'd gotten around telling him your secret. But you know you have to tell him before your first play session tonight. You don't know if a guy can tell or not, but if he can it's going to be embarrassing if he finds out that way.
It's not like you haven't done things before, you were probably more experienced than most when it came to other areas. You've played with other kinky people before, hooked up with girl friends and guy friends, and you've had a full D/s relationship that was filled with BDSM. It's just that you'd never done that one thing.
Really, you don't even know why you held onto it for so long. At first, you were trying to be smart and not give it away too quickly or easily, but then it almost became something you had a sense of pride in and tried to protect. But Taehyung was special. Someone you felt connected to. And you know, it's time to get it over with. Both telling him and the act itself. You have to simply rip the bandaid off and tell him. He shouldn't be mad. You didn't exactly lie about anything.
Its just about tonght :)
Please don't be mad. I ddnt know how to say it before
But you should probably knwo I'm a virgin
Three separate messages. Typed so quickly they're riddled with spelling and grammar errors. The words are not nearly as well prepared as you had wanted. But at least it was done.
The read symbol appears, and then nothing. Staring at your phone for what feels like 5 minutes, there is no reply. You're running over a dozen new messages, typing them in your head first. Wanting to explain that you didn't lie and that everything you told him, you really had done.
Typing the first word, his answer finally comes through. Only 3 words that make you relieved but also anxious from their conciseness.
See you tonight.
After spending hours getting ready, it was finally time to meet him. You came to his house and were perfectly on time. Although, you had a moment of concern thinking you were at the wrong address. When Taehyung said he had a big apartment you hadn't expected it to be a 2 story, riverside, penthouse in the middle of the city. He never wanted to tell you anything about his job, and now you were a little worried he's someone famous or that he runs a drug cartel or something.
Feeling a bit out of place and with the upcoming plans looming ahead of you, you start the night filled with nerves. However, Taehyung's confident demeanour as well as some casual conversation and a few drinks, eventually help you start to relax. And soon you're even beginning to get a little impatient.
A mix of anticipation of what is to come, steadily becoming tipsy, and having not touched yourself for a week, your mind is already running with all manner of dirty thoughts. But unfortunately, you're far too shy to initiate anything so you are entirely dependant on Taehyung's schedule. And he is taking it slow.
Normally, he would have a girl naked and on her knees by this time, but you were special to him, also. And especially now knowing that you're a virgin, he is determined to make the night last. Sat on the couch with him, there are small touches here and there, provocative topics of conversation, and his commanding tone of voice that makes you melt. Your excitement peaking as he passionately kisses you, pulling you onto his lap.
Nearing 2 hours of talking and teasing, Taehyung finally starts the main event. Taking you with him into the most stunning playroom you have ever witnessed. An industrial meets a minimalistic-modern theme. A beautiful king four-poster bed, with an x-frame top, a wooden headboard, and a white canopy. Making you think that this must be where princesses who liked to get spanked come to play.
Never parting his lips from yours, slowly and gently Taehyung undresses you. His delicate removal of your clothes and his tender kisses are in explicit contrast to the sharp, rough tugs on your hair that he uses to move you around. The combination making your skin burn with lust.
Sitting you in the middle of the bed, he remains fully clothed. A prickle of excited nerves shivering up your body. You're beyond needy and ready. Your hands starting to pull at his shirt, unable to refrain yourself any longer.
"Please," you whine. As his mouth comes off yours, you pull him into you a little firmer.
"What do you want?" Taehyung asks. His voice coming out deep and lowly spoken.
"I want," you gulp trying to think of what to say. Your face heating. "you?"
"That wasn't convincing." He moves forward, his hand pressing to your chest, pushing you flat onto the bed. "I asked you," Leaning over, his mouth comes to your breast, sucking your nipple. Your gasps turning to moans as he bites down before repeating himself. "What do you want?"
"Whatever you want, Sir." Your hands cling into the blankets trying to stop yourself from digging them into his perfect dark hair instead.
Looking up he smirks. "Mmm, when you call me that," he grabs your wrist, bringing it to his crotch. Pressing your open palm to the hard bulge straining in his pants. "it really turns me on."
You whine as he pulls your hand away. You'd been fantasizing for weeks about what he must feel like and now you were so close to having what you dreamt of.
"Don't worry about me, Y/n. I'm going to get what I want. But what I want right now," his hand suddenly cups your pussy making you gasp, "is for you- my horny, wet, little virgin," instinctually you spread your legs wider and his middle finger presses deeper, slipping between your folds making you wail. "to tell me what you want."
"Anything," You're trying to make yourself say more, but your mind is swimming and you're glowing with embarrassment thinking about actually saying what you want him to do to you. His piercing stare, his beauty, his hard cock, you're aching to have him. He knows what you want. It's not fair for him to make you ask for it.
"Y/n," your eyes lift to his face upon hearing his rumbling voice call your name. "Have I given you the impression that I tell you to do something so I can hear my own voice?"
Your eyes get big as you chew your lip, shaking your head. Even his light scolding is turning you on.
"Good. Then I'll ask you one last time, and if you make me ask you again, I'm going to put your panties back on, and they won't be coming off again tonight." he purrs making you whimper at his threat. "I was going to accept your little two-word answer, but now you've made me ask you multiple times, so you'll tell me in detail. What do you want me to do to you, little girl?"
You feel like curling under the blanket from shame, but you start to push the answer out. "I want... you... to," you swallow looking down, "fuck me." You can see his eyebrow raise, telling you to go on and give him the specifics like he asked. "I want to have you inside me, Sir. I want," you're thinking of the next words while feeling near to tears from discomfort. Unable to even glance at his face. "I want you to be the first man to fuck me." It's nearly inaudible by the end of the sentence, but you get it out. Hoping it's enough to make him happy.
Finally building the courage to look up, Taehyung is brimming with satisfaction and hunger. Looking ready to devour you.
His fingers gently hold your chin, lifting your head a little higher to meet him as he hovers over you. "Thank you, Y/n." He says softly, making your stomach swarm with butterflies. His warm reaction has you even more confident in your choice. "Put your arms above your head, and interlock your fingers." He instructs hushedly.
Too eager to follow his order your arms stretch above you, knocking into the headboard making your wrists bend. Holding your hips, Taehyung yanks you down the bed giving you the space to hold your arms out straight.
Pressing down on your wrists his face softly becomes more serious "You're not going to move your hands at all until I say. Not in any direction. Do you understand?"
With a little smile, you nod. Already having fun. "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl," he praises making you blush for what is surely the 100th time tonight.
He releases your hands and you push them down making sure to follow his order.
Slowly Taehyung shifts down your body, his fingertips lightly tracing down your arms and your sides, making you flinch and squirm. Fighting through being ticklish to hold still and keep your position.
Setting between your legs he continues to play with you. Your eyes clenching shut as his touch runs down your neck, your chest and stomach, gripping your thighs, tracing your lips. His fingers softly pinching your nipples producing a moan, your hips bucking up as your breathing deepens.
Moving lower still, Taehyung pushes your thighs wider. Lifting one of your legs he has you bend it upright, kissing from your knee down your thigh. Trailing lower until his lips touch your core making you bite your lip to stop from crying out. Needing to bite back even more vocal cries as his tongue flicks out, kneading against your clit. Starting to suck and lick you. Your legs spreading further on their own accord. Quickly losing your senses to pleasure.
His nearly painful grip on your hips jerks you down, pulling you into his tongue as it dives inside you making you cry out. Instinctually, your hands want to cling onto him and lift an inch from the mattress. Quick realization making you panic and slam them back flat.
Soon you're fussing, calling out his name as the flat of his tongue strokes you, eating you like a man starved. His long fingers deep inside you, massaging you in the same insisting manner. Pushing you to the edge without pause. Cumming with a yelp you bite your cheek in lieu of your arm. Your orgasm not stopping him, instead, he spreads your legs further lapping up all of the juice you spill. And just when you can't stand anymore and your body is starting to shake, he finally springs up smacking his lips with a satisfied open mouth grin. Wiping your cum from his face.
Flopping onto the bed alongside you, he rests over you again, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself. Leaving you breathless when he finally parts.
"How are you doing?" He asks, his mindlessly touch once more trailing along your skin. "Good?" he presses for confirmation.
"Yes," you giggle, feeling lightheaded in the afterglow. Wanting to touch him back you, accidentally lift your arms off the mattress again. "Oh," You gasp, settling them back.
Raising up, he leans on his elbow. Digging into your joint hands, he clicks his tongue. "How many times did you lift your arms? Hmm?"
"Um," You feel like your cheeks burning under his inquisitive gaze. In truth, you hadn't counted. But you think at least 7 times. "Seven," you whisper.
"And how many times did I say you could move them?"
Your mind races for a moment trying to remember exactly what he said. You don't remember him saying a number though. And you realize it's a trick question. "None?" you squeak.
"That's right." He hums.
Sitting upright, he abruptly sticks his hands under you, flipping you onto your stomach in forceful motions. Trying to not break position, you stay straight keeping your arms flat to the bed. With a last tug, Taehyung pulls you onto your knees, your elongated arms and aching your back makes your face burry into the mattress.
"Seven," He says. His large open palm smacking your ass harshly. He doesn't count down the rest, but in your own head, you do. Each stinging slap only worsening your hunger.
But it doesn't matter how desperate you are, Taehyung isn't nearly done with you. Over the next 90 minutes, he touches and toys with you. You come serval times from his hands, his tongue, from toys, and even once from your own hand as he makes you get yourself off.
As the events go on, he gradually undresses. His own needs getting dire, he also cums, letting you suck him off and swallow his load. But soon after he is hard again. Getting too much enjoyment from teasing you with his cock, seeing you become a mess. And no matter how many times you cum, it is the part you want the most. At last, though, he addresses your needful craving.
Putting you on your back, you can see the switch in his eyes and the intent behind it. Laying over you and resting on his elbows, he lines up with your entrance. Your body almost shaking with expectation.
"What do you want little girl?" he repeats, his own breath strained with desire.
You no longer have any apprehension about saying it. You've never wanted anything, anyone, inside you more than you want Taehyung right now. "Please fuck me, Sir." you pant, tilting your hips up, your motion rubbing his tip through your dripping folds.
This time it's Taehyung whose exterior cracks. Dipping in your warm opening makes him groan. His jaw tensing, he has to restrain himself from slamming his dick inside you. He wants to do it. He wants to make you scream and writhe, and take his dick all at once. But he knows he can't be cruel. He knows he has overcome his baser instincts and be patient.
Pressing his lips to yours, slowly, carefully, he starts to edge his hips forward. His cock sinking inside you. Inch by inch. Allowing you the time and space to adjust to him. And you're grateful for it. He's stretching you and the deeper he goes the further you're being spread. The size of him, his thickness is larger than any vibrator you've used before. Or anything else you've had inside you.
Breathing lightly, shortly, your hands are clinging to the blanket. Your eyes fluttering closed. Feeling him fill you is beyond your wildest imaginations, and right now you wish it would never end.
"Fuck," Taehyung whispers, his entire dick buried inside you. Your virgin walls tightly constricting and twitching around him. With a few heavy breathes, he calms himself. "How does that feel Y/n?" He asks, half teasing you, half genuinely checking on your well-being.
Words have left you. Your mind is delirious. You can only whine and nod stiffly. Your hands wrapping his back draw his body against yours. Mutly begging for him to continue.
He gets your meaning and is all too happy to oblige. Keeping a slow, steady pace, he lifts his hips. The rubbing making you fevered. And when he sinks into you again, he sets up an even pace of long deep strokes. Rocking into your over and over and it isn't long before any hint of pain is replaced with pure euphoria. Your legs shaking and shivering.
"Such a good girl." He moans into your lips. "You're taking my dick so well," Starting to pick up the pace, your moans come out more unrestrained. A kind of vibrating static filling your brain.
As his thrusts become more empowered, the low ache returns. Hurting just enough that it's helping the incredible sensation build. After several minutes, one of Taehyung's hands lowers to your clit. The external pressure causing electricity. Enhancing the pleasure inside. Quickly the combination overwhelms you and you can feel pleasure in your core unlike any other. As if every single cell in your body were crying out in joy, you lift and fall, exploding in ecstasy. The sensation turning your stomach, aching the back of your jaw from how hard it hits you. Taehyung's tongue filling your mouth, he swallows the breathless screams of your orgasm.
"Oh god, Y/n, you feel so good." Taehyung groans, his thrusts not slowing any. Your body floating, your mind ringing in orgasmic relief.
The pulsing inside you seems to last for an eternity. And even after it fades your oversensitive body is still quivering from his unrelenting motions. You're exhausted and wrecked and now that you've cum, his size is starting to make you sore.
"Did that feel good?" He purrs. Your moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as his pace begins to pick up. Pushing on his chest a little, you're breathing too hard to vocalize your thoughts. But Taehyung can read your actions.
"You can take a little more, cant you, baby?" He coos, pressing deep and holding it, grinding his hips down. Making you squeal in pleasurable pain. "You wanna make me feel good don't you?"
He stops moving, pulling back a little to give you space to breathe and to hear him clearly. You nearly sigh in relief. The tip of him was pressing too far. Your eyes open as his hand comes to your face, making you look at him.
"Can you be a big girl for me while I fuck you?" he kisses you lightly, sucking your bottom lip. "Do you wanna be a good little girl and let me use you, let me fill you with cum?"
Even with your body depleted, you don't need to think twice. You want all of that. You want him to cum inside you. You want to make him happy, whatever it takes. Not looking away from his eyes you nod. A little scared, but mostly turned on and excited at the idea of him using you to get himself off.
Closed lipped, his mouth lifts into a smirk. His eyes getting prideful at your agreement.
Easing into you, his breath becomes shaky. Again he bottoms out inside you and you whine in pain. With your approval given he isn't waiting on a slow build this time. He's rock hard and your warm wet cunt is driving him crazy. He knows it's going to hurt you. But he also knows you won't need to endure for very long. He is already nearly ready to burst.
Quickly his thrusts get faster and rougher. Extending his arms he raises up and lifts one of your legs for leverage. His chest pushing down on the back of your thigh spreads you deeper and shoves him even further inside you.
You can't contain yourself at that point. Crying out with every thrust. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. You can tell he is still restraining himself, but it's easily too much. You're drained and tender. And he's too big and rough for you to handle.
But despite your discomfort, you force yourself to stay still. Repeating a mantra over and over in your head that you want to be good for him.
Sweating lightly, Taehyung is pounding you until all of sudden, with a final solid snap of his hips, his movements faltering. A chesty moan pouring out of him as his body falls heavier into you. Your raw sensitive walls twitching as they are flooded with warmth. Several small jerking thursts pumping all of his cum into you before he drops his weight.
Letting your thigh drop back down, he rests on his elbows on either side of your head, his heavy breath fanning your face. Lightly brushing his lips to yours he kisses you through a smile.
"Such a brave girl." He mutters.
You're so tender that he has you mewling even as he pulls out of you. The movement makes you wince.
Gasping, you're surprised you can actually feel his cum shifting. It feels like it's going to run out of you. Clamping your thighs shut, your face glows again with embarrassment. You're not sure if that is supposed to happen. You thought it would stay inside. But in any case, you don't want to make a mess on his bed.
With a last satisfied grunt, he drops onto his side, leaning on his arm while still hovering above you.
"I'm so proud of you. You did so well." He smiles warmly, brushing your hair off your face, wiping away your sweat. "How do you feel?"
How do you feel? Sore, exhausted, thoroughly use, but mostly,
"Good," You grin sleepily, leaning into his touch.
"Good." He whispers back.
Shuffling a little higher, he pulls a pillow down and nudges it under your head. His arm going under your neck he wraps his other arm around you, hugging you. As you roll to your side and cuddle into him, he takes the hint and draws you in tighter. His hands rubbing up and down your back softly.
"I had a really nice time tonight Y/n." He kisses the top of your head, his chest tightening against you. "Thank you for letting me be your first."
#bts#yandere bts#yandere#bts fanfic#bangtan#yandere bangtan#bts smut#yandere taehyung#dom!taehyung#bangtan smut#bangtan smut reactions#bts smut reactions#bts taehyung#taehyung#taehyung smut#bts yandere#bts reactions#bts requests#bts x reader#bts smut fics#kim taehyung#taehyung x reader
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Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!
Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....
OR
Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.
PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader
CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex
AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)
They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.
Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.
Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.
The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.
The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.
It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.
It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.
“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”
You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.
But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?
Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.
He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.
After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.
It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.
You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.
Speak of the devil and he will appear.
“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”
A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.
“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”
Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.
“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”
Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.
“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”
You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.
“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”
God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.
“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”
“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”
“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”
You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.
Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.
“M-Mr. Dynamight!”
“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”
Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.
Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.
“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.
He didn't stop, though.
“Too much, it's too much!”
“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”
You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.
Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.
Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.
“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”
Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.
“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”
“D-Daddy!”
Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.
“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”
His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.
“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”
You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.
“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”
Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.
His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.
“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”
The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.
“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”
“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air
“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”
The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.
You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.
“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”
He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”
“By the way, you're fired.”
TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara
#yandere katsuki bakugo#yandere katsuki bakugou#yandere bakugou x reader#yandere bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#yandere x reader#yandere
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97 — “It’s not that easy.” for @eddie-diass
from this prompt list
Eddie thinks this should be easy. He’s spent the last three years of his life not thinking about Buck romantically.
Not that he really succeeded in stopping the thoughts all together, but he did succeed in distracting himself from them, from diving into them and figuring out what they meant. That should be the easy part — finding a distraction. He’s always been good at that.
He wishes he didn’t have to, is the thing. He got out of the hospital and started healing his busted shoulder and realized that life was short and he could die at any second and broke up with Ana and turned around to find his best friend locking lips with Taylor Kelly. Literally, he showed up to work on his first day back to find Buck leaning against his car with Taylor pressed against him like this was an 80s romcom and they were a bunch of lovesick high schoolers.
It stung. It made him bitter and jealous and angry — like he was a lovesick high schooler.
“You’re mad that I didn’t tell you about Taylor,” Buck had said later, when he approached him in the locker room. Eddie rolled his eyes and kept his head in his locker, refusing to look at Buck.
“No, I knew there was something going on. She was at my damn welcome home party, Buck. You’re not subtle.” Buck grimaced.
“You had enough going on, Eds. It just didn’t seem that important to bring up.”
Eddie spun around and stared at him, a little dumbfounded.
“You didn’t think your new relationship with your girlfriend was that important?”
Buck froze. He stared blankly at Eddie before his gaze shifted away and his shoulders dropped a little. Eddie watched him run a hand through his hair, step into the locker room and slide onto one of the benches.
“Wrong choice of words, maybe,” Definitely. “I just didn’t want to bother you with it. You were my priority, you know? Helping you feel better. Still are.”
Eddie’s thought about that line an infinite number of times since it left Buck’s lips.
You were my priority, you know? Helping you feel better. Still are.
Eddie doesn’t know how to tell Buck that that’s weird. That the fact that Eddie, who had a girlfriend at the time, was Buck’s priority, when he also had a girlfriend at the time (and still does, as Eddie’s brain keeps helpfully reminding him), is fucking weird. And it’s probably not fair of him to even try since he just came to the realization himself that the way that they’ve been acting for the last three years is weird as fuck and not the way two best friends who want to stay best friends and only best friends act.
It just hurts that he came to the realization too late.
One day, when Eddie’s stewing up in the loft, trying hard not to be bitter over the fact that he and Buck were about to throw down in a battle of ping pong when Taylor stopped by and swooped him up and out to her car for a chat, and failing — Hen settles down next to him.
He glances at her and she shoots him a sympathetic smile, offering to share the bag of chips she’s snacking on. He shakes his head but thanks her anyway.
“Must be really bad,” Hen says, focusing on her bag of chips. “To turn down your favorite chips.”
“How do you know they’re my favorite?” Eddie raises an eyebrow. He checks the bag again and — she’s right. They are his favorite, from his childhood. He never eats them around the station because he likes to save them for special occasions, ones that make him feel like he’s young and naive again.
He has a bag stored at the back of his pantry at home right now. But he’s pretty sure Hen’s never seen him eat them.
“Buck put in a special request with Bobby to get them stocked up. He said they’re your favorite. Something about a childhood treat.”
Eddie doesn’t remember telling Buck that. He’s sure he must have, in passing at some point, probably during his recovery, but he didn’t know Buck had latched onto it like that.
He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. It’s been 10 minutes since Buck left with Taylor. Eddie’s getting antsy. He can’t help it when he glances in the direction of the garage again.
“You should tell him, you know.”
Eddie stares at her, raising his eyebrows again. He can play stupid.
“Hm?” Hen stares back at him.
“Buck. About how you feel.”
Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. He looks away from Hen quickly, dropping his eyes to his lap.
“Yeah? About what?”
“Oh, geez, Eddie, come on. Don’t make me spell it out for you.” He doesn’t say anything. Hen softens her voice. “Listen, I know the way that you’re feeling is scary, I know it’s probably new to you. But you and Buck have a relationship like no one I’ve ever seen — and I’m including all the married couples I know.”
Eddie shifts in his seat and keeps his eyes averted.
“Seeing him with Taylor is cutting you up inside, Eddie. Every time you see her I’m afraid to cross through your line of sight because I’m not trying to get caught in the crossfire of those little eye darts of yours.”
“So what?” Eddie cuts her off. He’s never liked people throwing his feelings back at him, not when they’re already uncomfortable enough to face on his own. He looks up at her and sets his jaw. “I appreciate your concern, Hen, okay? But I’m not going to tell Buck that I don’t like his girlfriend just because...just because…”
“Because you’re in love with him, Eddie.”
Eddie stills. He feels his brain shut off and the panic spike in his chest, feels the fight or flight response kicking in instantly. He struggles to breathe.
“I’m not…”
He is.
“Eddie. It’s okay. I’m not telling anyone. I’m just...telling you what I see.”
They sit in silence for a moment. Eddie lets her words settle over him, squares his shoulders and confronts the fact that this is reality. He can’t hide from his feelings.
“I can’t lose him, Hen,” Eddie says after a moment, his voice so quiet that she barely hears him.
“Watching him with Taylor isn’t losing him?” Hen counters. “Look, I get that you’re scared that you’ll tell him how you feel and then it’ll ruin your friendship forever — but it doesn’t have to.”
“It’ll change things.”
“Maybe not the way you think,” Hen shifts so she’s looking Eddie straight in the eye. “The way you look at him when you think he’s not looking? That’s the same way he’s looking at you when your back is turned. Trust me. I’ve been watching it for years.
“Eddie, you both went through something traumatic together. You got shot and Buck watched you bleed out. You both thought you were gonna lose each other. In a way, your relationship became stronger after that. But you also realized how important he is to you. And he realized the same thing. Why do you think he rushed into his relationship with Taylor?”
“Because he’s wanted her for years?” Hen gives him a look.
“Because she’s safer. If Buck loses her, it’ll hurt like hell but he’ll move on. If anything were to happen and he lost you...we both know what would happen.”
“So why would I tell him?”
“Because you both love each other. I like Taylor and I’m glad she and Buck are happy together. But they’re not gonna last, Eddie. That boy would die for you. No one is ever going to mean as much to him as you and Christopher do, we all know that.”
“...It’s not that easy,” Eddie says quietly. He looks over as Buck skips back into the garage, shining and grinning big, like he always does after he sees Taylor. Eddie’s heart settles in the pit of his stomach like a rock.
“Be right up there to kick your ass at ping pong, Diaz, don’t think I forgot!” Buck calls, before he takes off to the locker room. Eddie swallows.
“The things that are worth it are rarely easy,” Hen says to him, setting her hand down on one of his and squeezing gently. “He loves you too, Eddie. Trust me.”
And with that she’s gone and Eddie struggles to pull himself back together before Buck comes back up the stairs.
He’s not gonna tell Buck how he feels. He’ll probably have to, eventually, and it terrifies him to think that that might be soon, since apparently everyone around them can clearly see the thing that they keep dancing around.
But he can’t do it while Buck is dating Taylor. If Hen thinks they’re not going to last long, then he can wait until then.
Buck’s happy with her, and Eddie thinks he should be allowed to have someone that makes him feel happy.
Even if it’s not him.
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Byakuya Togami x Ultimate Hacker Reader!
Hey! I’m back from a mental break and I’m rip, roarin’ and ready to write again! Though I might take awhile to post now due to me wanting to me time for art, I’ll still give this account the love and attention it needs to give people joy! Anyway, enjoy this little fluffy read of our favorite corporate entity <3
“For the love of god PLEASE work with me….” you sat at the front of your large three monitor build, with each of them set up to reveal lines upon multi-colored lines of jumbling code. Your knowledge of Python and Java were on the brink of becoming something less than fluent from every sip of the sickeningly sweet energy drink that sweat on your spare mousepad.
It was no exaggeration how jittery you were right now. I mean, you just chugged three caffeinated-stuffed drinks, your mind was ecstatic with what was going to happen after the code had rendered, and also it was 2 am. Though this was bound to happen, with you being the number one hacker in the country, sleepless nights were a given.
But, this little project was mainly for yourself, since you were finished with all the rest of your clients.
Basically, you were trying to hack into Japan’s DIET building treasury databases to see if you could hack the Japanese stock market to temporarily crash, then shoot up into the sky, then somehow sell all of your investments within an x amount of time that this code would provide for you.
So, yeah, that’s another reason why you’re a little on edge…
The rendering was about fifty percent completed, and to say you were having a heart attack was an understatement. You could get arrested for life, maybe assassinated in the night, kidnapped, used as a hostage, maybe even be written about in the newspapers. You spun out of your chair and started anxiously speed-walking from one end of the room to another.
“Holy shit, why did I even go through with this. I’m so stupid it’s not even funny. Oh! The precious PubSec members, take me now!” you sang, crazily talking to yourself as some sort of comforting mechanism. You glanced over to your monitor to see that the loading was buffering a bit, so the rendering had only jumped to 60%.
“You know, I really should have thought of a plan B on this one-” A knock sounded from your bedroom door, echoing and reverberating in the hollow portions of your brain.
“Y/N. What in the world are you doing?” a voice rang from the outside of your room.
“Oh shit…” a realization struck like a bullet in the head. You scurried over to the door, leaning into it while your hand was on the door knob.
“Ahahaha, I-I was just about to go to bed, Byakuya! I was just talking to myself because, you know, I’m an introverted hermit who loves stupid letters and numbers! So, uh, night!” You belched out the words so unconvincingly that it made your stomach cringe in disgust. Whelp, you were definitely screwed.
“Y/N. Let me in…” Byakuya sternly replied. He obviously was not having it, as always when it came to your...personal hacking shenanigans. The last time Byakuya walked in on one of your hacking extravaganzas was when you hacked into the Pentagon. It ended in success, but your husband presented you with a hell of a lot of lectures on the punishment of the law, and how your hacking fun could affect the Togami family.
Like that was going to stop you from making fat bucks.
“Ok….but promise not to freak out too much and take it out on me?” You pleaded through the door, not wanting Byakuya’s harsh words to affect you at this hour of the night, and the situation that you're in.
“It’s all on you whether you get scolded or not.” Byakuya said, frustration present in his voice. You shifted your weight more onto the doorknob, and turned to see that your rendering had reached 70%. Why were you so loud when you talked to yourself?
“I won’t let you in unless you promise me...please…” You mumbled, a bit of your guilt dripping in your words. You heard a heavy sigh on the other side, then a stand-still of silence following after.
“I...promise. Can I come in now?” Byakuya’s voice softened up, making your tense frame unwind from the now more comfortable atmosphere.
You creaked open the door just a bit, peaking out to see your husband with messy, freshly-washed hair, and comfy clothes that he would only dare put on when he planned to go straight to bed.
“You have to pinky-swear on it.” You stuck your arm out of the crack of the door, sticking your pinky finger out as a treaty of promise to Byakuya. The blonde just chuckled tiredly, lazily latching his pinky with yours, and shaking it a little as confirmation.
“It’s a deal, now what did you do this time?” Byakuya strutted into your room, now having access to your coding domain. He automatically directed his attention to your multitude of computer screens, all of them running at full power to run the code you had just implemented into the DIET building security firewalls. You walked over to him, slightly nervous from what you had to break down to him, because you KNEW he would understand all of it, and would most likely be in flames about this little project you had going on.
“Alright, so I basically got bored and I didn’t really have any clients, so I did something...questionable.” You started off, swaying back and forth with your nerves tickling your stomach.
“Define ‘questionable’” Byakuya asserted, crossing his arms and shifting his weight onto one side.
“I might have created an AI program that will hack itself into the firewall of Japan’s national DIET treasury building to temporarily crash the stock market for a small increment of time, then make it shoot back up the charts so I can sell all of the cheap as hell stock I would buy when it crashed and-”
“I’ve...heard enough” Byakya raised his voice, but not in an aggressive way, but more of a shocked sort of fashion. The heir started to massage his temples with his middle and index finger, staying quiet the whole time while doing so.
You shuffled closer to the man, bowing your head down in shame. You knew you shouldn’t have done something so impulsive to simply just keep your fingers warm and your brain entertained. You should have read that book that Byakuya recommended, or maybe baked a little cake and decorated it with fun colors, or finished that movie series that you were meaning to complete-
Your rushing and regretful thoughts snapped and turned into dust when you felt warm arms around your frame. It was delicate, yet it pulled you in, as if protecting your from the outside world and the horrors it beheld.
“A promise from the Togami family will never be broken, and I also just happen to despise yelling at you, so...I just want to remind you of something.” Byakuya’s low, grumbly, and tired voice had kicked into gear, making his droopiness contagious to yourself.
“I never planned on marrying someone who I couldn’t protect with my life.” Byakuya let out a weary sigh, “But, when you do things like this, there is only so much I can do. You know the consequences, and I’m just…” Byakuya paused, leaving your heart feeling even heavier than it was before.
“I’m worried about what could happen to you, Y/N. I nark on you because I care. What a husband I would be if I simply let you be arrested, or beheaded, or whatever it may be.” The hold on you only grew stronger, yet it was as if you felt wrapped in a shield against any opposition.
“I worry, I scold, and I try my damned hardest to protect you all because I care. I don’t want anybody to take you away from me, alright? Remember that.” Byakuya’s hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and gently kissed your forehead, conveying the words into an action that anyone could understand.
“I’m sorry, Byakuya. What I did was impulsive and stupid and-”
“Did you make sure to code your coverups?” Byakuya suddenly spoke, a serious look in his eyes.
“Well, yeah. It would be kinda stupid if I didn’t-”
“Then it’s settled, you crash the economy, and I’ll monitor. Just don’t do something like this ever again, or you're going to have to sit through something that’s way worse than a lecture on the law, am I clear?” Byakuya let go of your body, and walked over to your workspace to apparently ‘Monitor’ the situation you were about to dive yourself into.
“I can’t really say for sure that I can keep that promise for that long…” You plopped yourself in your comfortable office chair, spinning yourself in the direction of your now only slightly drowsy husband.
You heard Byakuya grumble from your answer, then, after a minute of clear internal debate, he stuck out his arm to you, and delicately lifted his pinky to your direction.
“...”
“Hurry it up, you know what I want, pinky-swear on it.” Byakuya never looked at you when saying those words, but your heart was still stolen from the message either way. This man really knew what he was doing to make your heart throb out of your chest.
“Well, I can’t say no to that...:” You smiled gummily to your husband, cutely locking pinkies together, as if they were meant to be there forever to seal a bond that remains forever unsevered.
#writing#littlewritingthings#danganronpa#danganronpa fanfiction#danganronpa x reader#byakuya#byakuya togami#byakuya togami x reader#byakuya togami fanfiction#x reader#byakuya x reader#byakuya x s/o#byakuya togami x s/o
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Right Person Wrong Time (Steve x Reader)
Soo this was a request from AGES ago - so sorry for taking so long with it. Hope I’ve done this justice xoxo
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Fandom: Marvel (MCU)
Request: Would you ever do a Steve imagine of maybe used to be friends or date and one day he sees you in town either pregnant or with a kid so he thinks your married but the father isn’t in the picture for whatever reason you like ❤️❤️
(IF you wanna request something - I’m always available)
Warnings: None... that I can think of.
Word Count: 1600
A/N: This was kind of a shambles, I didn't get to do what I imagined when I wrote this, and I’m thinking of doing a part 2... potentially maybe xoxo
Masterlist
Steve was shocked when he saw you. It had been nearly 2 years since he had last seen you, and letting you go had been the biggest mistake in his life. Yet of all the cafes and coffee shops in Brooklyn, there you sat. A laptop in front of you, papers surrounding you, and coffee, most likely a chocolatey Frappuccino in front of you. He saw a cupcake wrapper, and another cupcake on another plate beside your notebook. He couldn’t help but just stare, in awe of your beauty. You were glowing. He knew how successful you’d become; he was sad that he wasn’t a part of it. But was so proud whenever he saw your name on the front of a book shop, or your book title named as number one.
Yours and Steve’s relationship was the definition of ‘Right person, wrong time’. You were both in love, a love that hasn’t died for him. A love that would never die. But the two of you were in two different parts of your lives, after a hectic few years he was settling back into life, whereas you were in the process of getting your first book published. It was difficult for you both, but you left on good terms, the both of you believing in if its meant to happen, you’ll cross paths once again.
This time he did cross paths with you, you hadn’t noticed him, shocked at that considering Bucky and Sam were arguing behind him over what to order, and Bucky refusing to go beyond black coffee.
But he was too late. He stared at your prodding baby bump realised you were well on your way to having everything you wanted. A family, a baby.
“Holy shit. Is that Y/N” Steve heard Sam ask, Steve turned to tell him to be quiet but it was too late, you had already seen the trio.
You smiled when you saw them, happy to see them, Especially Steve. You were shocked at how your heart still leapt out of your chest when you saw him, all those feelings you’ve harboured deep within you resurfacing. Steve Rogers was your first and only love. Nearly everything about your relationship was perfect, the two of you fit together like a jigsaw piece. You blended in well with his family, despite them being literal superheroes. It just meant that you could ask them questions about how fights work for some scenes in your book, or you were able to ask first-hand information on how different injuries could work. All the research you usually spent hours doing, you could just ask.
But most importantly you were in love with how Steve would do anything for you, he became your person, and his friends became a family to you. He was the one that got away.
You got up when you saw them, you saw Sam and Bucky’s shock to your baby bump, but Steve not as much. He must’ve realised you were here before you had seen or heard them.
“Shit Y/N” Sam said walking up to you and giving you a hug, “I’ve missed you, how you been?” After he hugged you Bucky also went up to you giving you the same treatment,
“You just gonna stand there Stevie?” You asked putting your arms out,
He smiled and hugged you, as soon as he had done, the both of you could feel the warmth and electricity that was still there after all this time.
“You boys in a rush, or did you want to join me?” You asked them,
“We’ve got nowhere to be” Bucky said, warily looking across at Steve, so the three of them went to join you at your table.
“Sorry for all this. It’s just, I’m getting through hopefully the final draft, and its so close to being perfect”
“We read your first one. It was amazing by the way, congratulations.” Bucky said,
“Thank you” You smiled, “That was a different stress, this it’s almost like I need to live up to that same potential. It’s painful because of how many opportunities could come from this”
“Hopefully you’re not stressing too much though huh?” Sam asked, “There’s a lot to congratulate you for”
You chuckled at that and stroked your bump, “Awh, yeah, my life, it’s taken a complete turn. It was a long process, don’t get me wrong. But I’m happy”
Steve’s heart sank slightly at that, knowing you were happy, yet the person you were with wasn’t him. He of course wanted you to be happy, but he figured the two of you would always grow old together.
“You deserve to be happy Y/N” Steve said, speaking up for the first time. His voice still sent shovers down your spine, in a good way of course.
“Who’s the lucky man?” Sam asked diving in straight for the difficult questions, that caused you to laugh a little.
“Don’t get me started Sam. Would you judge me if I said I don’t know” You had a cheeky smile on your face, loving when you told people this.
The three men looked at you confused. They were confused because you were never the type to have one-night stands. Steve instantly worried knowing you would be going through all of this alone. The other two just shocked at what you said.
“You know, we’ve got an amazing lab, I’m sure with the right DNA sample, someone could find out and track the father down” Sam suggested,
You shook your head, a smile still on your face, risking a glance at Steve, “I meant to get pregnant. Wait no. I went through ‘Artificial Insemination’, I just, I always said that before I turn 30 I want to be a mom. And I know its selfish of me, but I just… I wanted to be a mom, and figured now’s the perfect time. My 2nd book had started going through the editing process when I made the decision. And well after a long and complicated process, 6 months later here I am”
“So you’re single?” Steve asked causing Sam to snort,
You nodded at that, “Yup. As single as I can be, with a bun in the oven though of course”
The two boys looked at Steve, and then you. The two of you making eyes at each other. You were shy to announce that you’re planning on becoming a single mother. But the other two you had seen as brothers, and Steve is Steve. Steve was staring at you with the same look he always gave you. A look that you knew that he was still in love with you, but instead he looked proud.
“Hey Buck, I think they’re calling our name, let’s go” Sam said grabbing Steve from beside you, the two of them leaving.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been in shock I think since I’ve seen you” Steve mumbled while rubbing his thumb over your hand,
You nodded, “I know. It’s okay though. How have you been?” You asked Steve,
“I’ve… been good. I’ve missed you. That’s for damn sure, but I’ve been good. Better than I was. Living in the Avengers compound at the moment. Rent around here is unnecessary. How about you, I’m just… so prod of what you’ve made of yourself. I always knew that your books would become best sellers. Seeing your name on the shelves. I couldn’t explain the feeling.”
“It means a lot” You whispered, “It shocked me. I didn’t expect to become as big as I had done. A lot of good things have been coming my way since. And with this baby, its like everything for me is nearly perfect”
“Nearly huh?” He asked looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes,
“I mean Mr Rogers, I just… I missed you like hell as well. I always figured you were the one that got away. And seeing you stood there, it just, those feelings never went away”
“They didn’t?” He asked, “Then you should know that I’m still madly in love with you as well.”
“We’ve both changed so much though…”
“I don’t care. Change is good right. We always said if we crossed paths once again…”
“But I’m pregnant” you then added,
“Makes it all the more perfect. Let me take you out. On a date. Let me woo you like I used to, let me make you mine again. Only if you let me”
“You want to still take me out?”
“It’s only ever been you” He said shaking his head, “Everyone knows that.”
You couldn’t help the smile that had crossed your face, everything would really be perfect now if you did have Steve by your side. You eyes were slightly glistening in happy tears, and he had a concerned look on his face,
“It’s hormones” you said shaking your head, “I just… I’m happy. It sounds weird, because I’ve only just seen you. But I’m so happy to see you Steve. It just… it makes everything perfect. I’m being Dramatic I know. But again hormones, me being happy”
He smiled at that, “It’s not being dramatic. I’ve got you Y/N. And I’m not missing any of it from now on. We’ll get back to where we were, and we’ll get there together”
It was true, you believed Steve’s words. Because something about the two of you connected. It always had. Steve believed this to. When he saw you, your pregnant stomach, he still had hope as selfish as it may seem. But a thought that also went through his head that it was too late, he hadn’t loved you enough when it mattered, and now someone else did and you would never be his. The thought crushed him, it broke his heart because for him, you’re it. But he’s been given a second chance, the same way he had done at life, he knew with this second chance, the two of you would start the perfect family.
A/N - Like I said, I wanted this to be better, but it is what it isssss - also nil kinda got some inspo from ‘The Backup Plan’
#Steve Rogers x Reader#Steve rogers#steve rogers fic#steve rogers one shot#Steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#Captain America#captain america x reader#Steve Rogers Imagine#Sam Wilson#Bucky Barnes#One Shot#Potentially
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WHAT I WAS THINKING: DARK SEASON 3 EDITION
EPISODE 1:
Who are these dudes with the harelip and what do they want
Why did she just take him to a cave and leave that’s kinda rude
So everything in this universe is just gonna be backwards. Love it
Ugh I’ve said this a million times but this show has such Fringe energy and I can’t wait to get a tattoo for this too
This is super freaking me out, i dont like that everyone’s in everyone else’s house.
Ooooh Katharina with glasses yes girl you better work.
I like Michael and this hat he’s rocking
Super into the fact that magnus and fransizka are involved in this universe too
There’s nothing cuter than sex before school. Ahhh the nostalgia
Ten bucks says that Hannah gets out of this bed and is pregnant
Fucking YEP
I am loving Martha in this Jonas journey
I know that all they did was flip the lens of the camera but my brain is breaking at this flipped Winden
Who the fuck is this random dude Martha is with
You know what he kind of looks like Jonas. I wonder if that's relevant or if I'm just grasping at straws
Bartosz looks like he's going to his first grade violin recital
I straight up just did not recognize Charlotte with makeup. She looks hot
There's got to be another person in that picture other than Ulrich because that's a lot of space to rip out for one person
okay hold up Woller looks so good and then when I saw that he was missing an arm I almost lost my fucking mind
Oh shit okay Hannah is living in Katharina's house.
Oh my God are Ulrich and Charlotte having an affair
Is it normal in Germany for kids to just walk into classes that aren't there’s and just sit down
follow up he has a clear noose mark on his neck
Aleksander looks so hot with this beard. universe B is the fucking glow up universe
It's weirding me out that the whole school is black and gray instead of light brown
The look of satisfaction on katharina's face
Wow honestly Louis just broke my heart with his facial expression when he realized his mom didn't know who he was
he looks so scared
Yes yes do it afffffffffair
Oh no you done got found out!!!
Oh the theme of the play here is red and set of gold
Fransizka looks so cute in this little outfit
Oh my God she's deaf!!!!
What the fuck. the fact that this actress can talk is blowing my mind
RIP to Regina a real queen
Peter's a fucking priest
All the fucking weird-ass freaky motherfucking trio is back
The dopplers have the same house That's cool
excuse me sir I think your child is broken
these guys are so creepy What the fuck
I definitely don't like the piano wire
oh this motherfucker is the one who gets lost
I feel like winden in this universe is just a little bit fancier
Well Charlotte and Ulrich just be fucking like crazy
Bartosz is the Jonas of this group and I love it
who was that??????
I cannot get over Aleksander in this beard
I like that things are opposite but they also have things that are different enough.
Like I'm so into the fact that they all went down into the bunker
who in the unholy fuck is that. who is that
Oh shit old Martha
What the fuck is this Tannhaus’ factory we're at
hold up Martha's in 1888
What the fuck. why is Jonas in 1888 and looking SO good
EPISODE 2:
casually sitting over your bed watching you sleep
he's look so good though
yo what the fuck everybody else is there too
Oh no things got really ugly at Mads’ wake
Not for nothing but Tronte is a dick
I kind of don't understand why Claudia would want Regina to live in such pain in this type of universe
Peter is such a good boy
lurking is the freaking national past time of this place
Oh shit we got some spin-off timeline stuff good
who is This is blind guy
I love Katharina so fucking much
I know what she's thinking and it's the same thing I'm thinking which is can I kill a child
why does this picture of Tronte make him look like Jimmy Smits
Katharina looks amazing in this jacket
Also I definitely did not just start yelling GO GET YOUR MAN KATHARINA
Regina just gets more and more badass as time goes on. Also all of the women of the tiedemann family are so fucking badass
I am so excited to watch this fucking relationship develop. they're both too cute
awwww he's using signs!
oh they're writing back and forth
DAMNIT PETER
I always feel like little Noah should do fuckboy sign offs when he leaves rooms because he's so smooth
yesterday Laurel said that this was back to the future but serious and just now Bartosz said it's not super easy to get nuclear fuel in 1888 and now I think that Laurel's right
I will never get over how good he looks JONAAAASSSSSSS
This guy feels like the OG inventor of sic mundus right
Katerina why are you even trying to check in at the front desk bitch Go and get your man
Is this Katarina's mom why does she just recognize that woman's name
everyone on the show is so talented.I spend the whole damn time being like oh my god the performances on the show and it's like yeah we know
Katerina get your man
I literally love them so much look at the look on her face She is a mama bear She is not going to let anybody take her man or her children and I love her
Not a huge fan of people who quote Shakespeare right before they kill other people or am I an enormous fan of people who use Shakespeare right before they kill other people
using a garotte to kill someone is ugly as fuck
I feel so bad for Jana
see this is one of the reasons why I'm like why would you bring Regina back to this world.
wowwwww TRONTE what's up dude
YO WHAT
Oh so how did Charlotte get back there but Elizabeth's still there too. didn't they switch places?
oh the head bump
Not excited for the mother daughter abuse stuff that's about to happen
I love these split sequences that they do at the end
anytime somebody stands and stairs for a lonely at a spot on the ground I assume to somebody died there
Oh shit that guy is a tannhausokkkk I see you
a religious images we love to see it.
This show is a whole series of pause that frame.
No I ruined something for myself!!!!
EPISODE 3
got to love those through and through Ariadne references
okay so Charlotte's great great grandfather has her watch?
who are these horrible traveler human beings
they look like less sexy Francis dolarhydes
I can't get over the fact that wollers missing an arm here I swear
we ARE the glitch BITCH
alternate universe Ulrich is a better person than standard Ulrich
what's this new like zoom-y thing they're doing
I was attracted to Magnus at this jump of the show but he looks better with dark hair
How did they not all die of fucking flu
eternally repeating deja vu
I looked at the production stills and I was like what the fuck is this hair do that Moritz has but he looks amazing
Also everyone on this show deserves an acting award
and Magnus is wearing a skeleton sweater
Hannah does that deep dive detective work any bitch knows the Nose doesn't lie
why doesn't anybody want to fuck wöller
omgggg eat the RICH
also he has that x tattoo on his hand that represents the no future thing
oh the light is rectangular and not circular ooooooh fancy
The show is also a lot of people catching each other's wrists as they walk away
I knew we couldn't trust this bitch
What did he give her
I love the parallels and characters behaviors between universe a and universe b
I want to know how Noah factored into all of this on this side
Martha has a type and her type is iconically Aryan
Oh Aleksander's back with that beard he's back
Hannah is such a snake
Omg that's her!!!!! I thought she was a trans actress.. hm. not super happy bout that :/
What is Helge talking about Ulrich did what??? omg
I would be like SIR DO WE NEED TO FIGHT STOP FOLLOWING ME
I stopped taking notes for the last half of that episode cuz I was really sucked in haha
EPISODE 4
FIRST OF ALL I'D LIKE TO GO ON RECORD THAT I DON'T CARE FOR THESE GENTLEMEN AT ALL
second of all why is this guy being like oh I took your name
why does he have Agnes's bracelet I don't like that
I don't like anything about this guy That's the end of the story
Also hold up a red hot second is Agnes dead cuz if so that's a hate crime
see what did I say
I knew that Hannah was going to get involved with Egon
from the second she walked in that office I was like that bitch has her eye on him and as she should he's handsome as fuck
Also he spoils her so much more than any other man she's ever been with AKA is Egon the only man she ever deserved
Is Hannah going to develop a heart cuz I'm not sure how I feel about that
Also what happens if Hannah gets pregnant
why is Ines a bitch I thought she was mad cool the beginning and now I feel fucking deceived
Also it's such a sweet gig that The kids who are playing kids can now play teenagers
poor Doris. Also he was shitty to her but he was far nicer than I would have been
Doris is so beautiful it's bullshit
older Magnus is so handsome
All I wanted was middle-aged Martha
bitch you have been having unprotected sex with him why do you think that pregnancy was not on the tabl
I'm like who's this guy in the church if it's not Noah I bet it's that little bitch
yeah I fucking knew it
Is this the dude that was married to Agnes I feel like this guy isn't real or something
I'm not surprised he let her go but I don't know why I'm not surprised. I feel like she's important to his timeline and I'm not sure why
look at these relationships forming between these sweet little bab
Hannah looks good in this red. Hannah looks good in all of these styles.
who is this child
I like that already as a child Bernd had his eye on Claudia as someone who was smart and had a ton of potential
I keep forgetting that I'm taking notes because I get so invested in episodes
Also I realize the zoomi thing which is going back and forth between the universes
Is Agnes Silja’s mom And if so with whom
he gave her Agnes’ bracelet that dope All right Tronte
Wow Claudia needs to back off her man
Claudia force him into a relationship with her
I fucking hate Hannah but sometimes she speaks so much sense
ooh I don't need anyone Yes girl that's true You don't need anyone You needing people was what made you act fucking crazy You don't need anybody
This was always my big problem with Hannah was that I initially identified with her because she was such a survivor but then she did such horrible reprehensible things I just couldn't let it go and I absolutely couldn't identify with her anymore
Oh here's my daddy Noah looking so good
I mean okay so I have been in this position before where I was cheating and then my man cheated on me and I was like how dare you but also you cannot be mad if your partner cheats on you when you cheated too. You both fucked up
Is Hannah going to have a redemption arc cuz that's a lot
Oh my God she's not going to get rid of this child is she
Oh my great God I cannot believe that she gave Helene that necklace.
I knew she was fucking connected to Katharina in the older generation I knew it
Louis and Lisa are a super cute couple and I know that they're not dating in real life but I think that they're very cute together
Oh everybody fucking
yeah they created the Apocalypse yeah
Oh no they have a child outside of worlds that's a mess How does that work so they had they gave birth to that ugly fuck
honestly I hate that he's their child for the most part just because he's ugly as fuck and neither of them are ugly as fuck so it makes me mad.
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Fandom: Captain America (Movies) Relationships: Rebecca Barnes Proctor & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Rebecca Barnes Proctor & Steve Rogers Summary:
Rebecca's calm life in the retirement home is turned upside down once more, when all of a sudden Steve, who to her recollection died about seventy years ago, stands in her room, here to make good on a promise he made to her 81 years ago.
***
“Ms Barnes?” After a soft knock, Nurse Moira poked her head through Rebecca's door.
“What is it, dear?” Rebecca looked over at the woman and put her book down.
“You have a visitor.”
“Oh, I thought Adelaide wasn't going to come around this week.”
“No, Ms Barnes, there is a charming young man here, who'd like to see you”, she smiled.
Huh. Rebecca was pretty sure that the only charming young men she knew, worked here at the nursing home. Well, except for Philip, her godson. Though it would be very unlikely for him to visit on a Wednesday morning.
Nurse Moira turned around, probably to the man in question and gestured at Becca's door.
“Thanks.” He stepped into the room. And Rebecca could not believe her eyes. “Hey Becca.”
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” With what was probably a new record time for her, she jumped up from her chair and dashed straight towards the visitor. “Steve? Is that really...” She cupped his face, pulled him a little down, so she could properly inspect who she was pretty sure was a) dead and b) six years older than her, even though the man standing in front of her didn't look older than thirty. “Is that really you?”
“Yeah”, he nodded with the widest smile. “I know it's weird, but it's me.”
“Oh my!” She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you, so, so much!”
“I missed you, too.” Steve held her tight, leaning down just enough so he could rest his head on hers, while she pressed her face against his chest. It may have been 70 or so years, but Becca basked in the familiarity of his touch, his scent and her eyes filled with tears.
“Becca, you know damn well that if you start crying, so will I”, Steve laughed, but he was clearly choked up.
“Tough”, she sniffled, “that's just what you get for coming back from the dead.”
“Fair enough.”
Becca leaned back and looked up at him. “Steven Grant Rogers, you always were an impossible punk.”
“I think that's a compliment.”
“Yeah.” Without missing a beat, she boxed against his arm, as hard as she could.
“Ouch!”, he cried out, his face falling into offended confusion. “What was that for?”
“For dying after promising me you'll come back home! And this”, she hit his other arm, “is for you and Bucky needing to be self-sacrificing idiots!”
“I'm so sorry, I really am! We...”
“I'M NOT DONE YET! This”, she boxed against his stomach, “is for taking seventy years to come back.”
“Are you done?”
“One more. How DARE you look that good at 94?”
“That isn't actually my fault”, he defended himself, his arms raised up defensively.
Not that she had actually managed to hurt him; as fit as she was for her age, she was an old woman in her late eighties and Steve was – apparently still – in the prime of his life. Whatever Howard Stark had cooked up back then, it still worked wonders.
“Well, how about you and me go for a nice cup of coffee and you can tell me what the hell happened.”
Becca grabbed her purse and her walking stick and linked her free arm with Steve's.
“I don't suppose Mildred's is still open?”
“'Fraid not. But the one here in the park is just as good.”
After Steve had finished his story, Rebecca could only stare at him. “So, let me get this straight: you didn't actually die, you were just... deep-frozen?”
“Something like that. Don't ask me how they defrosted me, though; Bucky was always the science nerd.”
“Yeah... They didn't thaw my brother out with you by any chance?”
His smile dropped and he shook his head. “I'm sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She put on a smile, but Steve saw how much it pained her, and he got it. He felt just the same. Not exactly the same, to him all that was only weeks ago, not seventy years... “Besides”, she added, “I have made my peace with that. With losing you as well. Thank you, for that very unnecessary heartbreak.”
“I can't tell you how sorry I am.”
“I know you are. I know my Stevie after all”, she added with a grin.
“Yeah, you do. So, tell me about your life! What happened to you? Did you become a lawyer?”
“I did”, she smiled proudly, “eventually. I didn't get into a lawschool until '61, I tell you, it was a lot of work and fights to get through. But it was definitely worth it, I was one hell of an attorney.”
“I don't have any doubts, because you, my dear, are fierce.”
“You have no idea...”
“Oh, yeah I do”, Steve laughed, “I have been on the receiving end of your fierceness plenty of times.” She could get down right scary; almost as much as Steve's Mum.
“Well, you deserved it every time. I didn't get married. I don't feel like I missed out on anything though, all my nieces and god-children were enough for me.”
“Oh wow. Lizzie, Ruth... Are they...”
“No”, she shook her head, “you missed Lizzie by about four years. Ruthie, she… she got sick, just after the war ended.”
“Oh.” Steve’s heart just broke into a million pieces. The Barnes-girls were like sisters to him, and knowing he’d really never see the two again really hurt.
“Yeah... Lizzie did the whole housewife thing though, got married, has two amazing daughters, Jamie and Stephanie. Can you guess after whom they are named?”
“She named her daughters after us?” Oh, Steve felt his eyes starting to sting and filling with tears. This was so bizarre yet so amazing!
“Yeah. Jamie is 57, works in Seattle at an advertising firm, she has two sons, Richard and Martin, wonderful boys, both in college at the moment, Richard doing IT and Martin becoming a teacher. Stephanie is 55, lives in Washington, she studied politics and works actually in the White House. Being named after Captain America probably helped with that”, she giggled. “Anyways, she has a daughter, Melissa, who works at a publishers, and she is going to be married soon!”
“Wow.” So much information about so many people Steve should know but didn't. “I can't wait to meet them”, he just smiled.
“They'll be ecstatic to meet you too, Uncle Steve.”
He couldn't keep the snorted laugh in anymore. “Uncle Steve?” That sounded somehow weirdly nice, yet all kinds of wrong at the same time.
“That's you, believe it or not.”
“It is not the most improbable thing that happened in the last few weeks… So, Lizzie’s husband… Do I know him?”
“You do”, she grinned, “on the third of April 1954, she became Mrs George Davis.”
“No.” Steve’s jaw hit the ground. “She married little Georgie? Seriously?” Little Georgie… He lived just down the street, was a year or two under Steve and Buck, and an adorable fellow. “Buck always assumed that he was gay.”
“He wasn’t. Steve, you should have seen him, he was one hell of a guy, protective of Lizzie and the girls like you wouldn’t believe and such a wonderful father… A guy like George I might have married”, she smiled. “But that guy, who promised to make an honest woman out of me if we both were still single by 35 just had to dive an airplane into the ocean, didn't he?”
“Oh my”, Steve laughed, “I did promise that, didn’t I?” After he caught his breath again, he smiled over at her. “Well, I can’t help but notice that we are both over 35 and still single…”
“Steven Grant Rogers.” He braced himself for being cussed at for such a ridiculous comment, when she raised her eyebrow. “If you think that this counts as a proposal you are sorely mistaken.”
“Wait, what?” His eyes went big as he tried to comprehend what she just insinuated.
“I might be a badass lawyer, but I’m also a romantic woman”, she continued, keeping their eyes locked. “So, until you go down on one knee, don’t expect me to even consider it.”
Huh. “Alright…” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before smiling at her again. “Duly noted.”
“Good. Then, how about you escort me back to the home? I should be back for lunch.”
“Of course, my lady.” Steve got up and held his arm out to her and together they walked back through the garden to the home’s dining room, where they were greeted by some curious looks.
“My, Rebecca, who’s your friend?”, one lady asked, looking Steve up and down, which only made him a tad uncomfortable.
“That’s Steve”, she explained as he helped her into her chair. “You could say I’ve known him my whole life.”
Steve came by almost every day. He was offered a small apartment in Brooklyn, only a few streets from where she lived; it was like back when they were young. With the difference, that them meeting went over a lot calmer and quieter; they mostly spend their days out in the park or in her room, talking, catching up.
“So, my dear”, Steve smiled, as they sat out on a bench on lovely Tuesday afternoon, enjoying the sun beaming down on them, “I have made a promise to you, a long time ago. And well, I am a man of my word.” He searched his pocket and got up, before kneeling in front of her and holding out a simple silver band with a red gem on top.
Rebecca was speechless, which was quite the unusual feeling for her, as Steve took her hand. “Rebecca Dorothy Barnes, would you do me the honours of becoming Mrs Rebecca Dorothy Rogers?”
“Steve… you punk are impossible”, she smiled and nodded happily. “Yes, I would love for you to become Steven Grant Barnes.”
With a laugh he put the perfectly fitting ring on her finger and nuzzled into an embrace.
“If Bucky could see us now”, she laughed, “he’d be so jealous!” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “I always assumed he’d be the one Barnes you’d put a ring on.”
“Yeah…” Steve softly stroked her hand. “Wait.” He stilled suddenly, turning to her with wide eyes. “You… You knew?”
“Of course I do”, she chuckled, “I know my two idiots after all.” She looked up at him with an encouraging smile. “I don’t know when it happened that your friendship turned into more, and I also don’t know if you two ever were together, but know that I support you.”
“Thanks”, he sighed, clearly relieved.
“At least you're gonne be a Barnes, one way or another.”
“Well, first of all, I was under the impression I became an official Barnes the day Buck adopted me in... fourth grade I think it was. But more importantly, you are not some leftover, because I can't marry your brother. I could not wish for a more awesome, fierce and beautiful bride.”
“Aw, Stevie”, she cooed and, to keep from blushing too much, she cupped his face and put a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Besides, you'll look so much more lovely in a wedding dress than Buck ever could.”
The visits became a little unregularly, once Steve became an Avenger. And here Rebecca was, thinking her worrying about that boy had ended with the second world war, but no, he was back in uniform, fighting aliens and so many more unimaginable things.
“You are my fiancé”, she scolded him, “I do not appreciate you putting me through this torture again!”
“I know. It’s my job, though.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Softly, she stroked the bruise on his face.
“At least we won.” Steve offered her a shy smile and damnit, that just got her every time. “Fine. You are forgiven.”
“Phew…”, he grinned. “And I promise to do my best to always come back, alright?”
“You made that promise once before”, she reminded him of the last time they had seen each other, back in the forties.
“And I kept it, didn't I?” With a skew grin he tried to mask the pain of his memories, but Rebecca knew him well enough to see right through it.
“This time 'round I might not have 70 years to wait for you anymore”, she just shrugged and went to inspect his bruised and battered arm. Sure, some of this country's best doctors had taken care of Steve, but she was damned if she didn't properly look after her fiancé.
“Never say nev... OUCH!”, he cried out, when she got a little too close to a particularly bad bruise.
“Wuss”, she just scoffed. It did look extremely painful though. Whatever those Alien-robots had been doing to the Avengers, it was effective. As aware as she had been all these years, in this moment she knew it more so than ever before: she couldn't live through mourning him a second time. “Promise me something else”, she asked of him.
“Anything.”
“Promise me not to die again. I don't care if you come back again or not, but do not make me mourn you, not one more damn time. You got that?”
“Yes”, he nodded and squeezed her hands. “I promise.”
“Hey Becca.” Steve put his head through her door and smiled at his fiancée.
“Steve”, she sighed and waved him over. “Come on in.”
He stayed in the door. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Are you finally marrying me?” Not that they were ever going to be married. It was however one of the greatest joys of her last few years and months, to have their fun with a promise they had long outlived.
“Better.” He opened the door wider and pulled someone in after him. All she could see at first was long, brown hair; when it was brushed away, her heart skipped a beat. “Wha…”
“Hey Becca”, her brother smiled and after a push from Steve, he walked over to her bed.
“James? Is that…” With all the strength she had left, she pushed herself up, Bucky holding out a hand, helping her sit up.
“Yeah”, he smiled and immediately the siblings were in a tight hug. “I missed you.”
“I missed you more”, she cried, holding tight onto him out of fear he’d disappear again if she let go.
Eventually, they did break apart; his face just as tearstained as hers; from the corner of her eye she saw Steve wiping the tears off his cheek.
“I love you, James.”
“I love you more.” He took her hands in his and softly kissed them; until his eye fell on the ring on her finger. “Hold up.” He straightened himself out and looked from Becca to Steve, back to his sister. “Steve told me about Ruthie, about Lizzie, but he never mentioned you being married… Please tell me you didn’t marry Arthur Thompson.”
Yup, there was her big brother, protective of Becca and the guys courting her. “I did not”, she clarified and smiled at Steve. “So, you didn’t tell him. Interesting.”
“Didn't tell me what?”
Steve turned a few shades redder and cautiously walked over, sitting himself besides the siblings. “Well...”
Buck held his hand up to shush Steve and turned back to Becca, who couldn't suppress the wide grin any more. “Seriously?”
“Back in the day he promised to marry me if I were still single by 35. I was still single by 88, so, being a man of his word, he proposed to me.”
After a short moment of silence, James just burst out laughing. Until now, Becca hadn't even realized how much she'd missed that sound and was happier than she ever thought she could be that she got to hear it again. “You guys are impossible... Did you get married?”
“Unfortunately, Captain America over there was too busy saving the world”, she commented with a roll of her eyes.
“Of course...”, he scoffed before turning towards Steve. “You better do right by my sister or I'll go all Winter Soldier on your pretty behind.”
“What's Winter Soldier?”
The way both Steve and James' faces dropped at her question, left her to be sure that it was nothing good.
“Nothing you need to worry about”, Steve smiled. “But Buck is right. I made a promise that I'd like to keep. What do you say, doll?”
“That I am not the one to make an honest man of you”, she answered with a warm smile. Steve and Bucky always were the dream team. And now that fate had given them a second chance, it was not on her to stand in their way.
“You met somebody else?” With wide eyes, James turned back to Steve. “Are you cheating on my little sister?”
“Of course not!”, he defended himself, “I would never!”
“I should hope so”, Buck grumbled and turned back to Becca. He took her hands back in his and softly brushed his thumb over her fingers. “I know that punk over there didn't ask me, but you two would have my blessing.”
“Aw, sweetheart!”, Becca smiled and pulled him into a hug. “And you two have mine”, she whispered into his ear. By the way he jumped, it was probably not what he had expected to hear from her.
“What?”, he choked out with wide, unblinking eyes.
“You heard me.”
“Heard what?” A little confused, Steve looked between the two of them.
“Nothing”, Bucky was quick to answer, blushing just enough for Becca to know that the past eighty years didn't change too much.
She smiled up at Bucky. “Just hurry, I'd like to see you get it sorted out and I don't think I have too much time left.”
“No, please don't say that! I just came back!” The insinuation about Buck and Steve's relationship was forgotten, as the tears filled his eyes once more.
“It's only fair. I had to mourn you, too.”
“Yeah, but you're stronger than me and Stevie put together...”
“Now that's some bull”, she laughed and took Steve's hand in her free one. “You two are gonna be fine. You got each other and that got you through the war, it'll get you through living in the 21st century.” Looking from one of her boys to the other, both with tears in their eyes, she got emotional as well. “Stop crying, you two. You know that when you cry, I'll start as well.”
“Sorry”, Steve chuckled and wiped his eyes.
“I'm not”, Buck made clear. “I love my pain-in-the-ass little sister.”
“I should hope so”, Becca laughed and, with the boys' help, she lay back in her bed. All that excitement was just a little too much, and maybe a nap would do her good.
She wasn't afraid to close her eyes, either; her two boys barely left her side and whenever she woke up they sat next to her. With Steve's celebrity status, nobody made too many problems for them ignoring all rules of visitation hours. They even stopped going on missions and as little as she would want to keep either from doing their jobs, Becca was eternally grateful not having to worry about them.
It took about two weeks for the boys to get their heads out of their asses and finally admit to the other how they felt and walked into her room hand in hand.
“Please tell me this means what I hope it means”, she sighed.
“Yeah, it does”, Buck grinned, his cheeks flushing a bit and looking over at Steve who had the biggest heart eyes.
“Finally”, Becca smiled. “Now I can die in peace.”
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Stripped Bare Chapter 14 (Bryce x MC AU)
Book: Open Heart
Pairing: Bryce X MC (Charlie Hawkins)
Summary: Charlie divulges some information to Kyra and Bryce meets the parents
Rating: NSFW-ish/18+
Word Count: 2699
"Aaaahhh!" Charlie drops to her knees from the force of a volleyball hitting her in the head.
"Oof," Bob winces. “That might leave a mark."
Kyra glares at him. "Not helpful. Are you okay Charlie?"
Bryce is already at her side offering a hand to help her up. "Yeah, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Charlie the rubs a tender spot on the back of her head. "The ball is pretty soft. I was just surprised." Maybe if she'd been paying attention this could have been avoided it, but how is she supposed to concentrate on Volleyball when she and Bryce just kissed like that?”
“You seem to be distracted. Anything in particular on your mind?” Bryce grins cockily and then pulls her Charlie in close, whispering in her. “Don’t worry, I often have that effect on people.”
Charlie scoffs and pushes him away. “You’re the worst.” She tries to act annoyed but the smile playing on her lips probably gives her away. And although he appears more focused than she is right now, the way he hung back a minute in the water to ‘fix his swim trunks’ tells her she wasn’t the only one affected.
“Ahem.” Katelyn clears her throat. “If you two are finished, we can get on with the game.” She probably put Charlie and Bryce on her team this time because she was sick of losing to them and is likely regretting her decision right now.
Charlie snaps back into place and she and Kyra exchange glances. Katelyn was always a bit uptight, even as a child, but she never seemed to be this miserable. The spent many weekends as children at Katelyn’s family lake home, and the three girls were inseparable. Then things changed as they got into high school , and Katelyn developed the need to assert herself as the best. With Kyra’s illness and lower financial status, she was never a “threat,” but Katelyn kept bringing Charlie into a competition she had no desire to be a part of. But since Katelyn would never give it a rest, Charlie just kept doing what she was doing and started to relish each time she came out on top. Now Katelyn seemingly has everything she wants and is having the wedding of her dreams, and it still isn't enough.
As the match goes on, Charlie gets her head back in the game, figuratively this time. The game is all tied up with Charlie’s team in position to beat the Sarah’s and their significant others. Bryce serves the ball over the net and the tall Sarah returns it. Kyra dives and digs the ball before it hits the sand. It floats up to Charlie, who sets it to Katelyn, who spikes it to the opposite corner on the opposing team's side.
The three women run to the center of the court and high five each other. The carefree smile on Katelyn's face momentarily brings Charlie back to a less complicated time, when they were all still friends and not just together out of some familial obligation. But just as quickly as it came, the moment is gone, and Katelyn is back to her ice queen demeanor. The women decide to disperse but the men stay on to play with some new challengers. Charlie and Kyra take the opportunity to hit up the bar.
"So that was actually kind of fun." Kyra plucks the cherry off her drink skewer and plops it in her mouth.
"Yeah, even Katelyn seemed to have fun for a minute at least. I just don't get what happened to her." Charlie takes a long sip of her sunset colored cocktail.
Kyra shrugs. "She's got issues for sure, but enough about her."
"I agree. I'd much rather talk about more Interesting topics...like the rest of your night with Dan.”
“Well...”
“Come on, spill.” Charlie encourages.
“Okay, fine. We went to a bar with everyone, and then he came back to my room, and then...Please don’t judge me for sleeping with a random stripper I just met.”
“No judgement here.” Charlie holds up her hands. If only Kyra knew...
“Good, because he was amazing. And it had been so long. So, so long”
“Ugh, tell me about it.”
“Wait!” Kyra grabs Charlie’s forearm. “You mean to tell me you and Bryce aren’t....”
Shit. “Well, we haven’t been going out that long, and even though Andrew and I weren’t physically...together for a long time, we've only technically been broken up a month and I’m trying not to rush things.” Charlie hopes that sounds as plausible out loud as it did in her head.
“Hmm. I guess that explains the almost palpable tension between you two. But damn, girl. What are you waiting for? He is so obviously crazy about you.”
“Yeah, maybe...” Charlie trails off as she stares wistfully at Bryce in the distance, starting to picture what it would be like to be with him for real until the sound of Kyra’s drink thudding against the bar brings back to the present. “Anyway, back to you and Dan...”
Kyra chuckles. “Nice deflection, but I’ll drop it...for now.”
~~~
“Are you ready?” Charlie clutches her handbag tightly as she and Bryce stand outside the restaurant doors.
Bryce places his hands on Charlie’s shoulders, turning her to face him. “Take a deep breath.” Charlie inhales deeply and then lets go, focusing intently on Bryce’s rich, brown eyes. “I’ve got you’re back. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“That’s easier to say before you’ve met them, but we might as well get this over with.” Charlie turns back to the door, and Bryce slips his hand into hers, giving a gentle squeeze.
Charlie scans the dimly lit, well-appointed room as the step inside. Katelyn and Landry had rented out the entire indoor portion of Il Giardino restaurant for the wedding party and other newly arrived family and guests. Charlie spots her parents seated on the ornate, upholstered chairs at a table in the center of the room. She points them out to Bryce, and leads him over there
“Charlotte! Her father stands up to greet her with a hug and her mother follows. “Hi, I’m Richard.” He holds his hand out for Bryce to shake.
“Nice to meet you Richard, I’m Bryce.”
Charlie’s mother looks Bryce up and down with a straight face, before addressing Charlie. “Where’s Andrew? I thought he would be here with you.”
Charlie sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly to control herself. “We broke up remember? Bryce is my date. Bryce this is my mother Susan.”
“Oh, well I thought you would put that all past you.” Susan rudely ignores Bryce and his attempt to greet her. “You and Andrew were so perfect for each other.” She looks Charlie up and down discerningly, assessing her burgundy off the shoulder cocktail dress. “That’s a pretty color on you, even if the skirt does make you look a bit hippy.”
“Thanks for the feedback, mother.” Charlie restrains herself to keep from rolling her eyes.
“And what do you do for a living, Bryce?” Richard jumps in, likely because he knows where conversations like this between Charlie and her mom typically go.
“I also just finished medical school. I’ll be joining Charlie at Edenbrook, but in the surgical residency program.” Bryce slides his arms around Charlie’s waist and pulls her securely against him.
“Hmm.” Richard nods thoughtfully. “Surgery can be a lucrative path...at least compared to internal medicine. I tried to convince Charlotte to at least go for orthopedic or plastic surgery if she was going insist on bucking family tradition to become a doctor.”
“You should be proud of Charlie. Did you know that she’ll be working under one of the best diagnostician's in the country?” Bryce shifts his eyes to Charlie, encouraging her to continue.”
“Oh...” Charlie pauses, taken aback by Bryce’s knowledge about her internship. “...Yes, people come from all over to be seen by Dr. Ramsey. It’s a very competitive residency. One I would not have gotten into had I not been at the top of my class.”
“We are very proud of you, dear,” Susan sighs and Charlie braces herself for the ‘but’ because there’s always a ‘but.” “but I just wish you didn’t have to work so hard. It’s going to be hard to have time for a family if you are always at the hospital.” And there it is.
There's so much Charlie wishes she could say, but her mom will never change, and it’s not worth her energy right now. “Well, I can worry about when the time comes. Oh, look! There’s uncle Jim and aunt Linda. I’m going to go say hello.”
“Well, they aren’t quite as bad as I thought they would be from the way you described them.” Bryce assesses once they are out of earshot. Charlie doesn’t even say anything, but once he see her ‘are you fucking serious’ face he elaborates. “I mean yes, that could have gone much better, but I can tell they mean well and want whats best for you. Unfortunately like you said, they think they know what that is better than you do. You just need to show them you are confident in your choices, and I didn’t see that back there. Where’s that woman who said ‘I’m going to medical school regardless of what they think?’ They need to see her.”
But what if they don't like her? What if they only want the version of Charlie, or should I say Charlotte, that they've created in their minds?" As exhausting as her parents can be, she does still love them and craves their approval.
Bryce stops Charlie and takes both of her hands in his. "They'd have to be fools not to see that this version of Charlotte Rose Hawkins is the best version."
"How do you always know the right thing to say, and also, did you know my middle name? Did you get that from your research too?"
"Nah." Bryce smirks. "I got it from the 'CRH' monogrammed on your luggage. Rose was a lucky guess."
Charlie shakes her head and laughs. "Come on, we've got more people to meet. Ones who should be much easier to impress."
The rest of the evening runs smoothly with only minimal conversation between Charlie and her parents. As expected, Charlie's male and female relatives are both equally charmed by Bryce, and seem genuinely impressed with her accomplishments. Charlie thinks she's in the clear, when her parents come to tell her they are turning in for the evening.
"Goodnight, Charlie. And it was a pleasure to meet you Bryce." Richard shakes Bryce's had and then turns to his wife. "Wasn't it, Darling?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Charlotte, could I have a moment alone with you?"
Great. Charlie can only imagine what her mother has to say now. "I suppose." Charlie steps to a more secluded area while Bryce and her dad make small talk. "Okay, what is it?:
"I just got a text from Andrew's mother, Sharon. He broke up with that young model girl. I just knew he would never be serious with her. Anyhow, she says he realizes what a mistake it was to let you go. Isn't this wonderful news?"
"Ughhh!" Charlie practically screams. "Do you even listen to me, and what I want? I don't want to be a picture perfect housewife who weekends in the Hampton's and competes for who has the biggest house, goes on the best vacations, and produces the most perfect offspring. I've worked damn hard to become a doctor and be the best I can be. I'm proud of myself, and you should be too. And you know what I realize now? Andrew should be kicking himself for letting me go because he's never going to have it as good as he did with me. I deserve much better, and I've found that with Bryce. He's kinder, smarter, funnier, better looking, and he believes in me. I just wish you would too."
By now the entire room has stopped to watch the scene unfolding, but at this point Charlie doesn't care. She storms out of the restaurant with Bryce on her heels and doesn’t look back.
“Hey,” Bryce jogs to catch up with her. “Are you okay?”
“Lets just go back to the room.”
Bryce nods and follows alongside her without another word. As soon as the door to their suite closes, the tears Charlie was holding back break free. Bryce wraps his arms around her, and Charlie rests her head against his chest. Replaying the scene in hear head, Charlie’s emotions cycle from anger, to sadness, to something unexpected.
“Are you laughing?” Bryce asks as he peeks down at Charlie’s face.
Charlie steps back, wiping the tears from her eyes and grinning widely. “That felt fucking awesome. Did you see the look on her face?”
Bryce chuckles softly. “You did great, but are you sure you’re okay?”
“You were right. My parents need to see and accept me for who I am. It would have been nice to have that conversation in a private setting, but they needed to hear it. I feel so much better now. So free.”
“Good, because you standing up for yourself back there? That was hot.” Bryce draws Charlie into him again, threading his fingers through her hair, the mouths only a breath apart.
Charlie’s heart starts racing because she knows where this is heading. They’re finally alone with nothing holding them back. She surges forward, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Bryce’s hands make their way down her back, toying with the zipper on her dress as Charlie pushes his blazer off. She makes quick work of his buttons, Bryce taking that as an invitation to pull her zipper down. She shrugs the dress off her shoulders⁰00, deep red fabric pooling at her feet. Bryce swiftly undresses his lower half, grabbing Charlie by the thighs on the way back up. Her legs wrap around his waist, hugging him tight while he carries her to bedroom.
They fall to the bed, a mess of tangled limbs. Bryce rolls Charlie on top of him, looking up at her with hunger in his eyes until suddenly his expression becomes more pensive.
“I think you should fire me.”
“What?”
“I’ve been so unprofessional. I got drunk on the job, gave you unsolicited advice, and have gone above and beyond the physical contact agreed upon in the contract. Fire me, Charlie. I don’t want to the money, I just want you.”
“Oh...” The fact that Charlie is paying Bryce has always been in the back of her mind, but she’d been willing to ignore it, knowing what they have is more than that. However, she sees what Bryce is getting at now, remembering their first conversation where he said he didn’t sleep with people for money, and it feels all wrong with this contract hanging over them. She can do what he’s asking and this all becomes one hundred percent real. But as much as she wants to, she can’t. Nobody in their right mind would have agreed to fake being a complete strangers if they didn’t need the money. “I can’t do that to you Bryce. You dropped everything to come here for me, and I need to fulfill my end of the bargain.”
“But-”
“Shh.” Charlie presses a finger to Bryce’s lips. “We are going to finish this week out, and then we can cut all business ties. If you still want this then, when we are back in the real world and out of this bubble, I’m all yours. But until then, I think we should cool things down.”
Bryce sighs deeply. “You’re killing me, Charlie, but I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to convince you otherwise. I guess I should go back to sleeping on the pull-out couch.”
“No! I mean unless you want to. I’d be amenable to adding sharing a bed and cuddling to the contract.”
“Deal.” Bryce opens his arms wide and Charlie settles in with her head on his chest. It’s only a few more days. She can wait, can’t she?
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Hey Planefag, I've been considering getting a gun for a while now, and one I keep coming back to is the CZ Scorpion EVO 3 S1 Carbine. I've always found myself more comfortable with rifles over handguns, though that might just be because I've actually shot rifles before and never handled a handgun that wasn't a dinky .22 single action revolver my dad found in my grandparents basement. What's your thoughts on this gun? Is it too much for a first time gun owner? Thanks.
NICE CHOICE MY BROTHER!
Among the under-appreciated and unsung heroes of firearms engineering and manufacture, CZ firearms and their fantastic Czechnology™ are king. CZ has a long lineage (they’re responsible for the famous CZ.61 Skorpion submachine gun/machine pistol, which the EVO 3 carbine is named after,) and they make a wide variety of firearms, from their immensely popular CZ 75 double-stack 9mm pistols to hunting rifles that are beloved by hunters across Europe.
As for the CZ Scorpion EVO 3 itself, you’re best served by watching some youtube reviews on the gun; as always Hickock 45 is a good place to start. He always has good feedback on how the gun actually handles and feels when you shoot it; as evidenced by his videos always featuring him having a blast knocking down steel in his backyard. But as far as this general kind of firearm as a first-time buy goes? I can say this is an EXCELLENT firearm for a first-time owner!
Carbines chambered in pistol calibers, such as 9mm, .45 ACP, etc. are commonly known (unsurprisingly) as “pistol caliber carbines.” Debates have raged over their “tactical usefulness” or home-defense utility versus other options, but what is hands-down incontestable is that they are tremendously fun guns. Handguns make a lot of trade-offs to get their small, portable size; both in accuracy and stability (due to lacking a stock) and in power (since they use significantly smaller, weaker cartridges than a rifle.) When you take a handgun cartridge designed to have manageable recoil in a handgun, and put it in a lightweight rifle, you get a firearm with almost no notable recoil, much greater accuracy (since you’ve got a much better platform that’s more stable due to the shoulder brace) and even generates more power (the longer barrel lets the gas from the gunpowder accelerate the bullet for a longer period of time and achieve higher velocities.) Carbines also have the benefits of dirt-cheap ammo (pistol ammo is cheaper than rifle ammo by a decent margin since it’s just smaller; compare and contrast over at ammoseek.com,) and they’re lightweight and handy compared to most normal-sized rifles. They have other applications too; they’re gaining popularity as a home-defense firearm (though people argue incessantly about other options being better, the simple fact is that these guns will work great for home defense if its the only one you own,) and then there’s hunting applications - I’ve actually been eyeballing a .45 ACP carbine for years because I’d like a “coyote gun;” something that can reach out and pop a coyote slinking around the property, but with a pistol cartridge that won’t ricochet off frozen ground or a rock and hit a neighbor’s house a mile distant.
Ergo, a pistol-caliber carbine is a really, really fun gun, and is very forgiving for a first-time shooter. The only gun that could possibly be more forgiving is a .22 carbine, like a 10/22, which is also a fun target rifle with cheap ammo, but isn’t a reliable threat against anything bigger than a woodchuck and is hard to use past 50 yards or so due to the “rainbow” trajectory:
5 inches of drop isn’t hard to compensate for; it’s more the rate of drop that makes things iffy. If your coyote pops up at 90 yards or 110 yards, your point-of-impact changes drastically. There’s also wind-drift; even a gentle breeze plays merry hell with that lightweight 40 grain bullet.
9mm from a carbine shoots significantly flatter and further: (link or click the image to fullsize it and get rid of the damn blur:)
So a 9mm carbine has most of the advantages a .22 plinker has, but with far greater practical utility as well. As the most common handgun round on Earth, 9mm is easy to buy and you can get plinking ammo dirt cheap.
You’ll note that there’s competitors to the Scorpion EVO on the market in the 9mm blowback-operated carbine market; from the Sig MPX to the ugly, but perfectly functional and very affordable Hi-Point carbine. All these companies have legendary reputations (even Hi-Point, which has phenomenal customer service and after-sale support) so its hard to go wrong with any of them.
My only complaints vis a vis pistol-caliber carbines is price. Yet another (theoretical) advantage of a pistol-caliber carbine is the ability to use a “simple blowback” method of operation; wherein the chamber is kept sealed until the gas pressure from the gunpowder drops to safe levels by nothing more than the intertial mass (i.e. weight) of the slide itself, after which the cartridge case itself being blown back by the equal and opposite reaction move the slide rearward and cycle the action (thus the name.) Most medium-caliber handguns above .380 ACP power or so use a fancier - and more expensive - locking-lug system to seal the breech because simple blowback would require too much weight in the slide and make the gun bulky. Hi-Point’s (in)famous pistols are so cheap because they use simple blowback even for normal-power pistol cartridges, which is why their guns look like a damn brick and have weight to match.
You know where that weight doesn’t matter, though? In a carbine! Simple blowback also has no moving barrel like the short recoil system most handguns use to cycle, so it’s also surprisingly accurate. But above all, simple blowback should be cheaper.
And they ain’t.
The Scopion Evo 3 is simple blowback and costs about a thousand bucks, retail. There’s multiple “entry-level” AR-15s on the market right now, chambered for an actual rifle cartridge, using a much more complex and expensive gas-operated recoil system... for about 600 dollars USD. That has never, ever not pissed me off, and has kept me from buying a PCC myself. The Hi-Point carbines are only 300 bucks or so, but they also look like a 300 dollar rifle - there’s no properly-priced “mid market” option for PCC’s and that just frosts my ass no end.
But there’s good news! After years of bullshit, you can finally find 9mm AR-15 complete uppers for something approaching sane fucking prices. Check out the price drops over at Palmetto State Armory. (They mark ALL their stuff as “on sale” but typically not with $100+ price drops.) Everyone is lowering their prices because nobody’s fucking buying these at their previous rip-off bullshit pricing. And even better, the corona catastrophe hasn’t driven these prices up yet, and probably won’t for a while because, as you can see, these are for unassembled guns, not straight-off-the-shelf ones.
Best of all, as far as AR-15s are concerned, “unassembled” basically means “you have to put the bottom part on the top part and pop two pins in with your thumb.” And that’s it. That’s quite literally it. It’s so damn easy I have no problem recommending it to a total newbie. What you do is, you buy a complete upper assembly (which means the factory guys screwed together the barrel and upper receiver for you and attached the wee flippy door and other stuff which is fiddly for you - they usually come with a bolt, too, but if they don’t that’s not hard to find separate and they just slide right in.) Then you go and find yourself a 9mm lower receiver; a complete one will look something like this. The lower receiver decides what kind of magazines you’ll use, and depending on compatibility with the upper may or may not have a working bolt hold-open interaction; you’ll have to do a little research to see if the combo you’re eyeballing works together. Fortunately there’s more than a few guides out there for this sort of thing, and you can also ask on forums like ar15.com to quickly get feedback from people with way too much disposable income who have actually built guns with the parts you’re looking at. This is all made a lot easier if you buy the upper and lower from the same company (they typically make sure their shit all works together, natch,) but even then research is prudent.
Or you could say “fuck it, I’ve got money” and buy the EVO 3, which wouldn’t be a bad choice either. Yes, you’ll be overpaying a bit, but at least the EVO 3 is nice, and has bells and whistles and things. And the other big advantage of an AR PCC build is also with the EVO 3 - a fairly strong aftermarket. For instance, if you think the EVO 3′s trigger is stiff, there’s already aftermarket options for it. There’s also handling to consider; find a Friendly Local Gun Store with the Scorpion in stock and pay them a visit and ask to hold the thing; then you can compare to pretty much any shorter-barreled AR-15 rifle on the wall and you’ll have a pretty good comparison. You can look up youtube reviews comparing the two all day, but nothing tells you what you’ll like better than actually holding it. The advantage the Scorpion EVO has is, unlike people making Le Generic AR-15 Pattern Parts, is the freedom to customize the weight, balance and overall useability ergonomics while still retaining modular features like the standard picatinny rails (the carbine you’re looking at even has integrated M-LOK attachment points in the handguard!) There’s a fucking reason this carbine is getting so much attention despite 9mm PCC’s being a Thing these days. The prices on 9mm AR uppers finally dropping is relatively new, but even with that, CZ is typically considered to be of a quality comparable to the upper end of those AR manufacturers, which also narrows the price difference.
I know that’s a lot of ~words~ to fling at a newbie who’s highly unlikely to dive into the pain-in-the-ass journey of researching 9mm PCC parts, but I wanted you to know what your options were, and to start early in demystifying the ~building a GUN~ process; as with a completed upper it’s mostly about popping together a few simple parts, screwing this thingajigger onto that, and then pressing some of those fucking roll pins in with a c-clamp from your workshop. Yes, skip the 20 dollar roll pin punch from Brownells (and the six dollars and two weeks shipping) and let The Internet show you all the dirty tricks to make shit even easier. The AR market is so inflated and AR’s so popular now that there’s people selling fifty dollar tools to help install one part in the lower, and exasperated guys on youtube showing you how to do it with a fucking banana.
So. the TL:DR:
* A pistol-caliber carbine is a REALLY nice choice for a first time shooter; it’s handy and easy to use, wonderfully affordable and fun for target shooting, and can be used for real practical uses like small-game hunting or even home defense if you want.
You have multiple options on the market right now for these, and if you want to save some money or want access to the most insanely populated aftermarket parts market, you can build a 9mm AR-15 pretty easily now, if you do your research first.
With that said, the CZ Scorpion Evo 3 is selling well and is quite popular despite how crowded the market is right now, and there’s a reason for that - everyone says its a well put together gun, its from a company with a legendary reputation for quality and design, it has all the bells and whistles you’re going to want (ambidextrous features, picatinny rails and M-LOK forward handguard,) and it has a sizeable aftermarket of its own, allowing you significant customization options to build on a known solid core firearm. IT EVEN HAS AFFORDABLE MAGAZINES. Seriously their magazines are the same price as you know, normal magazines from normal companies; you’re not being forced to pay out the ass for proprietary mags, it’s just
You know what, nevermind what I said, buy the Evo 3. YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT BRO
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Secret Santa 2019, Ch. 3
July 8, 2016
7:29 PM
“Ohh, goodness.” David clutched his hands close to his chest, eyes darting around them as they crossed the near-empty parking lot toward Muffin Tops. He huddled closer to Jasper’s side despite the oppressive heat. “Oh my gosh.”
“Will you fucking chill?” Gwen snapped, David’s nervousness clearly getting to her as well. “It’s not like you’re gonna be up on stage.”
“Okay, but I vote we get him up there at the first opportunity,” Jasper cut in, smiling despite the fact that he was feeling pretty weird himself. It wasn’t like he normally took his friends to strip clubs in his spare time, after all. He wasn't that kind of guy (namely, a frat bro or the President). “I bet we could talk Bon into it if the place is dead enough.”
David’s fingers dug into his sleeve, hard enough to drag blunt painful lines down his arm. “Don’t!” he cried, once again glancing around.
Jasper leaned in and kissed David’s temple, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s all good,” he assured him. “And none of our campers are local this year, so you don’t have to keep worrying about parents seeing us.”
“I’m not . . .” He trailed off, seeming to realize that it wasn’t worth trying to lie. His shoulders slumped defeatedly as Jasper ushered them into Muffin Tops. “Thank you,” he murmured, slipping inside, and he knew it wasn’t just for holding the door.
“Always,” he replied, and they fell into step behind Gwen.
Or -- took a few steps, then immediately stopped because she had faltered to a halt, looking around the dim, noisy space with a panicked look in her eyes.
He leaned in close to David’s ear and said, “Remember Davey, we’re being supportive.”
His eyes widened and he stood upright with a start, like he’d just been caught falling asleep in the middle of a camp activity. “Oh! You’re right!” He pulled away from Jasper, bouncing up to Gwen’s side. “Where should we sit, CBFL?” he chirped; his enthusiasm was a little too child-friendly for this situation, but Jasper watched, impressed, as David led her to a booth near the back of the club with the determined good-naturedness of a sheepdog, settling her in and immediately hopping up to get drinks. “Would you like anything, Jasp?”
“Beer’s fine. Literally whatever’s closest.” He took a seat across from Gwen, and for a moment they both watched David disappear into the gloom. “Doing okay, sport?” he asked; they both winced at his profound dorkiness, but he tried to shake it off. “You look nice.”
She chuckled self-consciously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You sure?” For once they didn’t have to wear their counselors’ uniforms, and Gwen had blown her hair up like a 60s soap opera star and done . . . something to her face; Jasper wasn’t sure what, but it kind of made her look like a magazine cover version of herself. (If he’d ever managed to get his face to look like that, he’d probably stare into a mirror until he died of starvation like Narcissus. He resolved to look up men’s makeup later, just for the hell of it -- even though he’d probably come across more like an overweight vampire than David Bowie.) They’d had to talk her out of calling the whole thing off when she’d emerged from her room looking dressier than Jasper and David combined, but in the flashing colors and low light of the club Gwen looked infinitely more like she belonged than Jasper did in his vintage -- which was really a nice way to say “old and kind of trashy” -- technicolor clothes and David’s impossibly wrinkle-free polo shirt and jeans.
Jasper suddenly realized how improbable the three of them looked together, like they came from different planets. A supermodel, a Mormon missionary, and a sentient pile of thrift-store rejects walk into a strip club . . .
“Gwen,” he said sincerely, “I would bet a hundred bucks you could take anyone in here home if you wanted to.”
She snorted, looking pleased despite herself. “And yet it’ll just be you two.”
He leaned back, grinning. “I know,” he agreed, catching sight of David weaving through the tables, which were finally starting to fill up. “Aren’t you lucky?”
David set their drinks down with the grace of a bartender (which he was, the rest of the year) and slid into the booth next to Jasper. “Well, Gwen,” he said, folding his hands on the table like he was going to pray, “what do you think?”
She froze with her glass halfway to her mouth, eyes wide and wary. “About what?”
“All this, of course!” He gestured around the room, where a steady stream of people were picking their way through the tables scattered like islands through the low warehouse; where women, wearing glittery scraps of nothing that caught the lights like fireflies, were ferrying drinks to and from the bar and flirting with apparent regulars. No one was onstage at the moment, but there was an expectant hum underneath the pounding music, and two poles were lit up by spotlights. “Where should we begin?”
“Begin . . . what?” Gwen glanced over at Jasper, looking like she was regretting every recent decision. He shrugged, thinking that maybe David was being too supportive now and wondering if he could possibly tone that shit down before something really stupid happened.
The sunshine drained from David’s face slightly, and he also turned to Jasper. “Gee, I don’t know.”
They were both looking at him, and he groaned. “Well, I don’t know either! Pretty sure the only place I’ve ever been like this was some . . . furry vore land in Second Life. That was a weird afternoon -- remind me to tell you about it later,” he added to Gwen, winking. “Why don’t we just ask Bon?”
David’s face brightened as Gwen’s paled. “We so don’t need to --”
“What a neat idea, Jasp! Come on!” David leapt to his feet, taking Jasper’s hand before giving Gwen an appraising look. “. . . On second thought, maybe you should wait here. With . . .” He widened his eyes, jerking his head in her direction with all the subtlety of Groucho Marx.
Jasper reminded himself to never allow his boyfriend to consider a career in espionage. “What exactly are you expecting me to do? Tackle her if she makes a break for it?”
David either didn’t hear this comment or chose to ignore it, turning away with a wave and a cheery “Be right back!” before diving back into the growing crowd. Jasper just sighed and lifted his beer, clinking it against the drink Gwen had set down on the table.
“Cheers.” When she didn’t respond, slumping back in the booth like she was going to disappear under the table, he placed his hand on her forearm. She jumped at the sudden touch, nearly knocking her glass over, and with his beer-laden arm he gingerly slid it out of her reach. “What gives, Gwengarry Gwen Ross? I thought you liked Bon.”
The dumb nickname didn’t make her smile. “I mean, I do,” she said with a miserable shrug. “But of all the people here to talk to about this? After that play disaster?”
He winced at the memory. During one of Preston’s earliest plays of the summer, Max had stolen Gwen’s phone and changed everything from her “Looking For” (all genders, “anything as long as it’s nasty”) to her photo (Neil, who was at that age where boys kind of looked like gangly, awkward young women in the right light) and had snagged the attention of one of the few eligible townies in Sleepy Peak. That debacle had ended in an extremely awkward date between Gwen and Bonquisha Harding, a woman with the body of a pro wrestler and the personality of a monster truck. They were pretty good friends now -- and the four of them got together every few weeks to watch old movies -- but he could see why it might be uncomfortable to chat with her ex about lap dances or . . . whatever.
“I mean, I told her I was straight! And now what? Like, is she gonna think I’m stalking her at work?” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh fuck, what if she thinks I want to go out with her or something? Or what if she thinks I don’t wanna go out with her? We decided this wouldn’t work because I was straight! And if I’m not? That’s so insulting! What if --”
“Breathe, Rumpelstiltsgwen.” She glared at him -- he had to admit, it wasn’t his best work -- and he handed over her drink along with his beer. “I think you need this more than I do.” She took both drinks, finishing them in record time, and despite the situation he was impressed. “You must’ve been fun in college.”
She snorted, glancing over Jasper’s shoulder and swallowing hard. He turned to see David scurrying back to their table, dwarfed by the beautiful gold-glittery amazon at his side. “H -- hi, Bon,” she said weakly as they approached.
“Hey, sugar!” Bonquisha kissed the air next to Gwen’s cheek and settled into the booth. She was wearing a shimmering bikini-type-thing (he wasn’t very good with women’s clothing) that reminded him of Princess Leia, and sparkles were splashed across her cheekbones and shoulders like freckles made of stars. “It’s fantasy night,” she explained at his curious look, hoisting up a fake spear before turning her attention back to Gwen. “Hear you’re looking to join the other team?”
Gwen buried her face in her hands with a groan, sinking down into her chair. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Aw, come on! It’s a great place to be!” Bon spread her arms across the back of their seat and grinned at Jasper and David, a wide, expansive smile that was impossible not to return. “Right, guys?”
David looked like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so Jasper jumped in: “Bonnaroo, I think Gwen’s a little nervous about how to . . . you know . . .” He raised his eyebrows, not sure how to explain what exactly they were here for. “Do it. Not -- not it, but like . . . stuff. All of it. I should stop talking.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry, Gloomy,” she said to Gwen, flicking her ponytail affectionately, “we get a lotta women like that coming around here, so all the girls know it’s standard procedure. This is a good place to figure yourself out.”
Gwen had been staring steadfastly at the table, but glanced over at Bonquisha, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Really?” she asked hopefully.
“Totally! Now, I gotta get back to work because they don’t pay me to pal around with my friends --” She winked. “-- but start by just looking, all right? You two,” she added, pointing at Jasper and David (who glanced at each other with some alarm), “you’re Gwen’s straight friends tonight, got it?”
Jasper suddenly felt like he needed a snapback and a sports jersey, maybe a shark-tooth necklace. “Guess we should get more beer,” he said to David, shrugging. “The more it tastes like horse pee, the better.”
“My man!” Bon held out her fist, and Jasper bumped it (feeling like the single whitest person on earth as he did so). “I’m due up onstage now or I’d get your drinks for ya. Tip Brandi well, she’s good people.” She put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder, her smile softening. “I’m proud of you, gloomy girl. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, okay? Just have fun.”
As David escorted Bonquisha to the stage on his way back to the bar, Jasper studied Gwen’s face. She wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack, which was good, but she still seemed to have trouble looking away from the small tea light in the center of the table.
He supposed this was where his role as “straight friend” came in. “Uhh . . . she’s cute,” he finally said, glancing across the room at a woman decked out like a mermaid, complete with shimmering waves of black hair and a blue-green tail . . . skirt . . . thing (he really wasn’t good with women’s clothing) and feeling like the single skeeviest person on earth.
Which . . . was probably good, considering where they were. He was in character.
She glanced up, following his gaze to the mermaid in question. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Not really my type, though.” She covered her mouth as a sharp, nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “What the hell am I saying? I don’t have a type. I . . . god, what the fuck am I doing . . .”
“Hey,” Jasper said, leaning forward so she had to look at him instead of spiraling further. “It’s me, brah, your straight friend Jasper.” She snorted, some of the panic fading from her eyes. “And I’m telling you, as your straight friend, that we can leave any time you want. We’re here for you, Gwen.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “No pressure, right?” she asked, and the look on her face was so sincere, almost plaintive.
“Not even a single psi.” He wasn’t sure he was saying that right, having slept through most of his science classes in both high school and college. But it brought a smile to Gwen’s face, so he considered it a job well done.
She shook her shoulders, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand, and examined the crowd with interest for the first time since they’d arrived. “All right,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. After a few seconds of silence she sat up straight again. “Oh,” she breathed, then tapped Jasper’s arm and gestured unsubtly toward a woman wearing fairy wings and wreathed in pink flowers. “She . . . uh, makes my chest feel kinda fizzy?” Her eyes met his, uncertainty mixed with excitement in her face. “Is that . . . ? ”
He glanced back in the fairy’s direction just as David bumped into her, balancing three beers. Despite his lack of hands, David steadied her with his elbow, his smile turning apologetic as he made sure she was okay before returning to their table. Their eyes locked and David’s smile widened.
And . . . well, yes, the feeling in Jasper’s chest was somewhat fizzy, because it turned out he wasn’t very good at being straight after all.
“Yeah,” he assured Gwen, unable to stifle a silly grin as he watched David approach. “Yeah, that’s definitely in the ballpark.”
Keep Reading
#campcamp#camp camp roosterteeth#campcampsecretsanta#jaspvid#cc jasper#cc gwen#cc david#forestwriting#this is as close as it gets to that teen rating i promise#i think it's cute enough to make up for any minor . . . uhhh let's call it 'challenging content'#i mean jasper being 'straight' is too wholsome#this is the one that goes closest to not quite aligning with my ss's requests though and i hope they don't mind too much#it all goes back to perfectly above-board from here on out
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The choices you make Ch.5
Ayyy, look who finally finished writing something new! lol. Here’s chapter 5, which you can find on AO3, or here, under the cut. As always, comment over on AO3, or send me a msg here! Otherwise, hope you enjoy, and maybe (i’m hoping) the next chapter will come out faster :P
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“Wait for his signal.”
Maverick’s eyes narrowed, but Buck had to turn his attention to the house.
One minute passed. Then two. Then Maverick started shaking his head. “This is wrong. The windows are open. We should be able to hear something – anything.”
Buck frowned. He was right, but the order was given, so if they couldn’t…
A car screeched down the street, and the crack of gunfire sounded down the quiet street. Buck and Maverick dived behind the leftover vehicle, but neither could return fire.
“Fuck,” Buck muttered, signalling for Ramer and Jordan to enter the house. He and Maverick busted open the van door to uncover… nothing… There was nothing. No papers, no radios, no phones, not even a stupid footprint.
“Buck!” Ramer was on comms now. “House is clear. There’s nothing here anymore. Jordan has set up a flank watch, you can come in and help search now.”
There had to be something. Something to let him know that he made the right call – that he put his trust in the right people…
That he didn’t send someone to die.
“Control, we need you to run a plate.” Buck looked at Maverick.
“Copy, ready.”
“X-ray, foxtrot, zulu, juliet, whiskey.”
“No numbers,” Maverick added, after bringing forward a USB key. “This was on the kitchen table.”
“Extract is coming by. We can give it then,” Buck murmured. “Let’s get packed.”
.
“Frost, we have an update.”
“Copy. Standing-by”
With a quick signal, Rook rotated so he was supervising Ryan and the entrance.
“Buck is extracting to base with a USB. It’s being checked now, but from what I understand, it might take an hour or so, more since they need to travel here.” Frost nodded along. That would be a great break-through… But… “But we have a situation. Avoledo is now missing and undercover. We don’t know what his situation is, or if he’s even in danger, but keep an eye open. Try talking to the other undercover agent. See if you can get any clues.”
“Copy.” Frost walked back in and watched as Rook hurriedly stand up as if he wasn’t just talking to the man on the bench.
“Sorry, I was uh…” Maybe he was finally learning how to tell if someone was actually angry or not. “I’ll go back to my post. I’ll tell people you’re busy.”
Frost smiled as Rook took up his position outside the emptied shop, and check-up on Clash. That smile didn’t last when she turned back to look at Ryan. “I need answers. If you were an undercover cop, why can’t we find your record?”
“Probably protected – look – that was never my issue to worry about. I just… What do you want to know? I can tell you?”
Frost sniffed, immediately regretting it as dust flew up her nose. “How can you tell me anything you haven’t already told Sauer?”
“She wasn’t asking the right questions, and when I tried to speak, she told me to shut up, I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
Mhmm… Sure… “Look, let’s start now. How long were you undercover for?”
“I was a low-level drug dealer for six-months, and then I went through a bunch of promotions, worked my way up to be the personal detail for one of the gang bosses after a year. Then, when they teamed up with the terrorists, it was too late. My extraction couldn’t happen in time, and the police force just didn’t have the man power to do anything. Something about another conflicting mission from the JTF 2.”
“What do you know about today other than that assassination attempt?”
“They’re training bombers. That’s what today’s for. They’re gonna have a couple run into the crowds, but that’s all I know. I wasn’t given a time or location, they just told me to be ready.”
“You know,” Frost dragged an empty box to the spot right in front of his bench, “For someone who was apparently on the personal detail, I would’ve thought that you would know more.”
“I get that, I do. But these protests were a sudden thing. In such a short time, it seemed like everyone got angry at the same time. It’s not like they planned the protests.”
Frost shook her head. That’s a fair point, yes, but it does shit to help them out now. “Do you know anything that will help us here? Anything about their plans or patterns, or even a rough time?”
“They were waiting on a new contact. A guy I never heard about before. They said that he’s been here before – a hero. They wouldn’t even let me know the name!”
“So say they’ve already collected the guy. What would be next?”
“Make and smuggle Molotovs. Something about a training course. Mostly low-leveled grunts. They have a hideout near here, you know? There’s a sewer here that leads straight to a secret pre-world war cavern under the park. The police keep track of it because it’s a popular drug bust place. It’s why I was sent there.”
Frost paused, taking a deep breath. That was about a five-minute walk away, not the worst, but if Clash was still getting over whatever knocked her out, they’d be low on manpower here, should they need it. She craned her neck to look outside the shop. The manhole was on the ground yes, and while it would take some effort to open, it would be time wasted, and too many resources were required.
“Intruder!” Frost looked up to see Jameson get tackled to the ground. Rook, the one who shouted, immediately fired a few rounds into the stranger’s chest.
Frost ran out to help Jameson up while Sauer momentarily left Clash to check in on them. “What? Happened?”
“Secure the perimeter,” Frost barked at both Rook and Sauer. “Sauer to Laurier, and Rook to Slater.”
The two walked off, exchanging a few last whispers, but Frost couldn’t afford to pay attention. “Jameson?”
“I…” he gave his head a shake. “I’m good. Just caught me off guard. Serves me right for not checking my back when I was going to relieve Rook at the shop. Give me a minute, and I’ll be ready again.”
Frost, with Jameson looking from where he sat, patted down the body. As her hands dipped into his pocket, she brushed against cool metal. With a triumphant gaze, she pulled out a fancy looking key. In the other pocket, she found another crumpled note. She quickly snapped a photo and sent it off to control.
“It’s a different cipher this time…” Control was sounding frustrated. Frost could relate.
1: ITNOOIHRO
2: REAAHDENS
3: DCAYFWTTS
4: STYURLEYU
5: AMYNEOSI
6: THWCSLRAR
Time to use our “Rook.” Remember, life for cause. Caesar
“Control? Jameson just got jumped. No serious injuries, but the guy had a key on him and another note. Did you crack the last one?”
“Yes, and it’s being sent to your phone now.”
“That’s…” Frost raised her eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“Unknown.”
“Ok, keep this one between us, and I need you to…” Rook. There should be now way… he was part of Rainbow, not some liability. “Decode it as soon as possible, I need to know who I can trust. And if Buck’s done with his mission already, can you send reinforcements?”
“Copy, I’ll send them over now.”
“Control, Frost, the streets are secure, and I’m heading back now,” Sauer spoke, breaking Frost from the glare directed at her phone. “Rook should be about done too.”
“Yep, coming back now.”
“Ok,” Frost sighed, as she watched the sun climb higher from her right. Sauer’s figure was getting closer and closer until they were facing each other. “Control—”
There was a squealing of tires as a van sped past the street. Frost nodded at Rook to check up on their prisoner, and jogged to the street to see the checkered van turn a corner.
“Frost!” the panicked voice shouted over coms. “Ryan’s gone!”
This was getting to be too much. She had never been lead on a mission and have it go this… wrong. “Well what do you want me to do?” she snapped, marching back to Rook. “Check the surroundings. Didn’t I send you to secure Slater? That van must be the one we’re looking for then.”
“Frost,” the warning voice came to her ear, and her ear alone. “Deep breaths. That was Slater, so North of you. We saw it go East, probably near Confeder— yep, it’s pulling up to the park now, caught on traffic cams.”
“I’m going to pursue them,” she muttered. “When Buck gets here, put him in temporary command until I get back. In the meantime, have everything go through Jameson. It’ll have him out for a bit. So he can rest.”
“Where are you going?”
“Into the sewers,” her fist tensed, and she was reminded of the key in her hand. She quickly stuffed it into her pocket. “There might be a secret cavern under the park. Our man Ryan is there, and that might be a good place for where Avoledo could be held.”
“You sure you wanna test your source? If you do, you should bring one of them as backup. It’ll leave enough people back here to defend if necessary, and you won’t be completely alone in case something happens. As for the note, I’ll get a team on the code again.”
Frost paused. It would be safer to stay here. Plus, it was just Ryan. If he was truly the traitor, this could be a trap. Sauer was talking with Jameson. With her shotgun and professional, business-like attitude, plus their shared history, it would be easy to take her. Rook would also be possible, and since he was also Rainbow, they’ve trained together multiple times together in more recent memory. “Well, who would you suggest?”
Here we go, Frost is going out on a solo recon mission… maybe! You can either order her to stay put at her station, or recommend either Rook or Sauer go with her!
#r6s#rainbow six siege#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#the choices you make#action#reader interactive#choose your own path
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📃 ( for green!! )
Send a ‘📃’ for a short drabble involving our muses|| @pafallende
pidge thinks about running away from the team, but green is there to help her realize how much she means to voltron
Pidge wasn’t sure if language was enough to describe her bond with the Green Lion.
She hope she’d never have to say that; those kind of lines always felt hackneyed, like they’ve been directly plagiarized from some low-budget romcom. Something, something, “There are no words to describe our love,” blah, blah, blah. Cue the sloppy makeout session in the rain, and Pidge could already feel her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
Maybe if her Dad just cried over cartoons like normal people, then Pidge wouldn’t have to rely on a bunch of vague clichés. No, no—don’t blame Dad’s movies.
PIDGE:\Mind\thoughts_>>>You wish you could still watch them with him again.
PIDGE:\Mind\emotions_>>>homesickness>heartache
Pidge feels a rumble in the back of her mind, and a new warmth sparks in her chest. She is being embraced; the sudden comfort she feels can only be translated to being held. Pidge revels in it. As satiny as these Altean blankets were, they feel too weird, or unfamiliar, for her to really enjoy. The same can be said for the pillows, her room, and this entire ““quiznacking”” situation.
Shiro crashes an alien ship into the desert, stumbling out as a walking collection of paranoia and loose-ends (Pidge doesn’t think he’s fully recognized her yet).
PIDGE:\Mind\emotions_>>>heartache
Then, Shiro and her ended up on a scavenger hunt for a “Voltron” with a handful of randos. This led them to the Blue Lion, the thing that flew them clear across the universe in seconds—all the way to Princess Allura, who immediately claimed them as her paladins of war.
That’s the part that Pidge is having some trouble processing.
She was meant for space, that’s how her family raised her. Also, this random, chain of events was better than her original plan to get herself to the stars, which was roughly: Infiltrate, investigate, try to steal a Garrison shuttle.. Continue from there. She’s off Earth, now, though, and in addition to having her own ship, she finally knows what happened to her family.
Pidge is in the perfect position to go find her Dad and Matt. So, why should she bother staying here? Sure, the Galra sound like trash, but she doesn’t want to fight them—just take back what’s hers. Allura is asking for soldiers; she wants them to offer their lives for her cause.
Like they almost did today, when Sendak came.
Forming Voltron was exhilarating, but the build-up there had been terrifying. She still hasn’t shaken off the disappointment from opening those cell doors to everyone but her family. Also, it took her being scared of dying before she could actually “give herself” to the team to form Voltron. She thought she’d never see her family again, she thought she left her Mom to rot.
Pidge couldn’t make a life out of that.
That’s why the girl has been tossing and turning in her new paladin quarters for the last hour, just mulling everything over. How she should she break the news to everyone? It’s clear she can’t stay. Maybe she should just casually mention, “Hey, I’m already on a mission,” or maybe not say anything at all, and just leave?
Green rumbled again. This time, it was less of a reassuring purr, and something more along the line of scolding. Pidge agreed wholeheartedly; she shouldn’t run away without a word. For about the millionth time that night, she rolls side over onto her side. This time, she up bunches her blankets up around her face, as well as closes closes her eyes. Instead of all the other hectic things going on in her life, Pidge tries just focusing on Green’s energy.
The vague presence of her lion in the back of her head seems to surge, and before she knew it, Pidge was asleep.
Unconsciousness was a plummet. Straight through a black, blot of nothing (Something that just barely grazed Pidge’s sense of perception), then emerging onto an entirely new plane. It was like diving into the water, when everything had this gleam to it and went fuzzy around the edges; only, the place Pidge found herself was a forest.
Tall trees, thick grass, that undeniable earthy smell of old leaves—it all hit the girl in one go, like her little dirt-patch seat sat in the very heart of all things nature.
There’s this immediate intuition that this place is safe. After her 33rd rash from ivy and over-pollinated flowers, Pidge has developed an almost inherent revulsion for all things leafy; however, that little spark of aversion is overwhelmed by feelings of admiration and compassion. It all just resonated with the environment, letting her know she’s precious as sunlight itself.
Pidge closed her eyes and breathed it in, feeling any and all tension drain away. When she breathed out, it was a deep sigh that morphed into a burst of laughter towards the end, when something started to nose at the back of her neck. It’s Green, Pidge just knows it—as if that knowledge was directly planted in her head.
She twists around to grin all wide and buck-toothed at her lion, finding an actual lioness in place of her giant, mechatronic form. Of course, this one was green, and the proportions were off compared to an earth lion. Green had a round face and wide eyes; also, there was a ridge of fur ran up from her stomach to her front. She was like some weird, alien-version of a lion, and Pidge loved her with every fiber of her being.
Like that, the girl is smothering herself in the crook of Green’s neck, and clinging onto her like some kind of massive stuffed animal. “I’m so happy to see you!”
Green’s purr is instantaneous. Her maw doesn’t open, but Pidge feels like the reverberations of a chuckle are just sprinkled along her stream-of-thought.
TRANSMISSION:\frequency\Green_Lion>>>You’re acting like weren’t just united, little cub
Pidge pulls away as her smile goes sheepish. “Well, yeah, it’s just– I don’t know.” She made some awkward gestures as she tried to pick out the right words. “It feels like I was always suppose to find you, and l just.. I fit here. With you, I mean.”
Before she can stumble over her anymore of her words, Pidge gets another faceful of lion. Green is gentle, though, as she nudges her forehead against the side of her paladin’s face.
>I understand. A lion of Voltron is much more sensitive tothe cosmos than your human sensibilities would ever allow. >For all those years I spent in stasis, I could still see into the universe, and sense so much potential
Pidge loses track of the forest. Her eyesight just flips channels, switching from greenery and tree roots to a stretch of space that truly embodied infinity. Comet tails burned cyan streaks into nebulas; every cosmic dust cloud was shaped, folded, and thinned-out into different abstractions that drifted around like some kind of majestic eye-floaters.
The stars dotted everything else, almost creating their own, shimmering vortex as their immensity and luster sprawled out to encompass any and all perception. As her eyes adjusted, Pidge found herself focusing on a handful of them that seemed to be twinkling brighter than the rest.
>I believed several different lifeforms could’ve been my pilot
All the sudden, that cluster of stars began to fade.
>But none of them raised to the occasion
Then, they were gone—no grand death or anything, just gone. At that, Pidge felt a vague sadness well up in her chest. She was floating out there, another body among all the heavenly and celestial beings, and she felt lonely. That is, until, she was embraced by a new energy, something so bright and warm that all the comets, stars, and nebulas were dulled.
>Then I was able to find you, little cub. >A daring child with an inquisitive mind,so ready to fight for the truth>I knew you would come to me
Pidge finally comes back to the forest landscape. There’s a tear in her eye, and she’s pressed her forehead right between Green’s brow. Honey stares into gold, creating a spectrum between vigorous youth and aged wisdom. The former crumples to the latter after a few beats, when Pidge loops her arms back around Green’s throat, then burrows her face into the thin fur of her lion’s face.
The lioness trills this time; a short, chirping sound of approval.
>I was very happy when you found me>However, now that I’ve told you all the years I spentwaiting for you.. Will you explain why you just want to leave?
Green didn’t really have a tone. It was more like she thought into Pidge’s head while giving a live-feed of her emotions along a secondary train of thought. It was weird, but Pidge knew she was being chastised either way. She let go of Green as well as scooted back some. She looked like she had just broken her mom’s favorite hand-lens.
“W-well.. I need to find my family. That’s why I came here.”
So far, Green has been sitting like Bea-bea whenever she wanted a treat; now, the lioness was standing on all fours, and began to stalk around Pidge. Anxiety ran down the girl’s back as she raised up to her feet. The air had a new staticky feel to it. She’s precious and loved, but disappointing, too—it’s teeming through the atmosphere.
A lump forms in Pidge’s throat while she shuffles around to keep her eyes on Green. She knows she’s messed up, and she’s struggling to try and explain herself. “I want to be your paladin, but I already have my own mission. Won’t we still be bonded?”
>So you wish to put me back in stasis and watch you fade away?
Pidge felt a gut drop, a little, remembering how lonely the stars were.
“No, I don’t want that– What if.. What if I took you to find my family?”
Pidge cringed at the growl of anger that burst in the back of her head. Green kept on stalking as the air turned all the more stale. She was disappointing; she was selfish.
>And now you wish to tear me away from the other lionsafter 10,000 years of separation, for a hunt youcan barely lead yourself?
Pidge wanted to point how Allura was doing the same thing by expecting her to just drop everything and go along with her war. She also wants to say, no, finding her family wasn’t some kind of “hunt”, and she does know where to look. She’s got an eyeful of nervous tears.
She’s shaking like a prey animal, not sure about what kind of stand to make. Her knees are buckling, and breathing was starting to get hard.
“B-but.. My family.”
Green stops. Her ears are flat against her head, and Pidge swears she can feel the lioness stare right through her heart and soul. There’s a sudden and very distinctive lack of friendliness to Green. She lost that kitty-allure; big eyes were slanted, now, and her poise has gone from tender to predatory. Pidge holds her breath, fearing she might be mauled.
>And what if I were to leave you to your family?
Atop of paranoid and distressed, Pidge also finds herself confused. Although, uncertainty stews for maybe a second before she drops to her knees. It’s like someone had taken a shot; just one second and her guts had been strewn everywhere, leaving her with a gaping hole right where her ribs should be.
That’s how it feels. Opening her eyes up is a struggle, even more so with when it comes to focusing on anything. At first, everything is just a blur of light, and when she can make out shapes, they barely process.
There’s too much going on. Her heart is screaming in her ears, and breathing is even harder than before. Pidge is sure her lunges are gone; she’s just a gasping fish on the floor of a boat. Despite the gore, her hands fumble for her chest—it’s instinct to curl up on herself. She gropes at the ground and her legs, then finally feels her fingers twist around the fabric of her shirt. Pidge focuses on that, and finds there’s.. nothing.
No blood, no guts, no signs of any damage whatsoever—nothing. Pidge whines like a lost kitten as she sobs all wet and snooty. There had just been this sudden burst inside her; Pidge was sure her insides had been blown apart.
There’s a tug somewhere inside her, and Pidge feels a new compulsion to look up. When she does, she finds the Green Lion looming over, and even though she’s already folded-over herself, Pidge still tries to flatten out her back like that might hide her from view.
>Shouldn’t your connection with your family be enough?>Our bond has only been suspended for a tick, and you’ve crumpled.
Pidge tries to say something. Her mouth opens and there’s noise, but it’s nothing coherent—just more whines and little, wheezy noises. For a second, Pidge thinks back to that night on the stairs, when she overheard the news report about the Kerberos.
She was so sure that was the worse moment of her life, when she lost everything by light of the 11 o'clock news. Right now, she hadn’t lost something, but felt like apart of herself had died. Green’s presence just dissapear, cutting her off from all her love and warmth.
Now, her voice wasn’t a soft undertone to her own thoughts, but something that was drilled into her head through prying claws. Now, there was no soft grasses or trees lining a warm horizon, but someplace dark and dangerous.
She was pleading for Green to give all that back to her, but words were so hard, now, without any guidance. The girl cried even more before she finally turned over to base-instincts: rolling onto her side, to show her stomach, as a sign of submission.
Pidge was still clinging to her front, but the message was clear. She concedes; she needs to be with Green.
There’s a purring sound, and Pidge feels an instant relief. She was warm and precious again, made whole by Green’s love as it flowed through every part of her being. The crying comes to an end; although, they still left her face wet and blotchy with a sticky-coating over her lip from all the snot. Green just lowered herself to curl around her paladin, dipping her head down to lick up the side of Pidge’s face.
It was smothering and patronizing, but Pidge didn’t protest any of it. All that fear was still draining away, and she was thankful she could cuddle up with her lion like this. She took fistfuls of Green’s fur like you would a blanket, then more or less melted into into her side. From there, she sounded muffled and slurred, like a tired child about to be tucked-in. “Please don’t ever leave me, Green.”
The tree and grasses—now restored to their warm, spring haze—were starting to fade around the edges, blotting out to Pidge’s regular unconsciousness. Green just nuzzled her paladin’s side as she poured endearment and a sense of promise through their bond.
>We will always be at each others’ side, little cub.
#pafallende#[ DRABBLE╰☆]#[ MEME RESPONSE╰☆]#v; undetermined#domestic abuse cw;#(sorta?? if you're uncomfortable with the idea of green being possessive and manipulative then skip)#(this is all based on smth grey and i've had in the backlogs for a while now >:3c)
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the melodramatic beginning of my climactic end
There are, quite honestly, about a million other ways I had hoped to gain notoriety... and by a million I mean, like, five. Six, tops. Looking back, avoiding my own inevitable would’ve been easy – a literal push; a click, a tap, the fucking pushing of a fucking button (sorry, potty mouth). All I had to do was keep my mouth shut; keep my shit private just as I always had. I had worked so hard to get where I was – where I hopefully still am – and while some people may have deserved at least some part of what they got, some were just the worst kind of collateral damage. To the latter: you will never know the extent of my regret, nor the level at which I now self-loathe. To the former: I’m still sorry, even if you do suck a little.. I know, I know I’m getting ahead of myself. On that note, I suppose I should start from the melodramatic beginning of my climactic end – my self-imposed downfall, my very clumsy swan dive into public humiliation. Here goes; try not to hate me too much.
Oh, I’ve changed the names of people and places, but the rest is - unfortunately - the truth.
“Well, it’s over! It’s done!” Judy, very melodramatically, intoned while frantically waving her arms, “Edgewood has officially gone to hell in a handbasket!” I have only just walked into the back door of the bakery and tea house the two of us own together, but I can already tell it’s going to be one of those days – to be fair, most of them are. “Well, don’t stop now, give me all the dirt!” I know I’m baiting her, but it never stops being fun. “They robbed my silverware tree!” she offered by way of explanation – the “silverware tree” as we now call it, is the tree that we are forced by the town of Clydesville to have blocking our front door because we live in Tree City USA. We decided to make it festive by hanging all of our gold-plated silverware that was too pitted for use (we are fancy, after all) and everyone had already come to terms with the simple fact that we might as well just throw that silverware in the trash, because once it was out there it likely wouldn’t stay very long. “Well, don’t let them ever say we don’t give back to our community.” Being flippant probably isn’t the best approach to the situation, but we are nothing if not sassy here. “Thanks for taking their attack on my decoration seriously” she sighed “I guess I should just be thankful they were careful not to trample my english garden while they robbed me blind.” “You’re right, I’m sorry, I should’ve taken this more seriously” I held up my hands in a placating gesture, “more importantly – who had bets on it lasting less than a month?” Before she even had time to feign offense, the victor was ready to claim their spoils. “That would be me!” the victor in question being my friend, and co-worker, Lawrence; or as we all prefer to call him, Law, “E-e-easiest five bucks I eva made!” he took the time to not only grab his prize, but do a somewhat embarrassing dance while doing it, “Ooh, wait, give it to me in singles – I WANNA MAKE IT RAIN.” “Five singles isn’t enough to make it rain, Law.” I retorted knowingly – honestly because we have tried to do it countless times, and failed miserably. We have the slow-motion videos to prove it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was your personal mission to rain on EVERYBODY’S parade today, Kat. Don’t let me stop you, want me to tell you about my hopes and dreams so you can shoot them all down while you’re at it? Yeesh.” He and I have been friends for so long, this type of back-and-forth is just par for the course. As a matter of fact, if I’m not mistaken, we are actually cousins. It is Wayneswood County, after all, literally everyone is related. “As long as your so-called hopes and dreams don’t involve proposing to yet another girlfriend, I’m pretty sure I’ll be supportive of them” I know it’s a low blow to hit so early in our little game, but I really do have a reason for coming in to the store today. You see, Law is what we call a ‘habitual proposer’ – he’s been engaged to four different women (only married to one) in his ripe, young age of twenty-eight. “aye-aye-aye, kick a man when he’s down, why don’tcha?” he pounded a closed fist over his heart in an attempt to make me feel bad. “I’m not saying I didn’t know it wouldn’t happen, but I just thought people would be nicer. I should know better than to place any expectations on humanity anymore. Oh, well – at least I’ve got more silverware to hang up. No more soup ladles, though, the dredges of society apparently needed to serve some broth.” Judy interjected, still trying desperately to hide her disappointment. “That or prepare a whole lot of crack!” I jovially added, making a show of shrugging my shoulders and forcing a tight smile. “Prepare. Prepare?” oh, here he goes “Uh, excuse me, yes Geeves” Law was getting into it now, affecting a posh accept and holding his pinky in the air “prepare us crack, good sir, make it our finest vintage!” “Soooorrrrryyyyy I don’t know all the hip drug lingo, friendo. I must’ve missed that issue of Street Youth Monthly.” Admittedly, my joke’s weren’t always the cream of the crop. After receiving looks of pity for my attempt at being pithy, we fell into our daily routine of treading water and getting through the daily deluge of afternoon teas, ladies having lunch, hipster parents trying to force their kids into liking fancy things and the general public needing sweets to keep calm and carry on. “Our 2:00 afternoon pushed to Wednesday, and changed their reservation time to 1:30.” Judy explained – at the end of the day we all sit down and compare calendars, make notes on scheduling, and make sure we haven’t over-booked ourselves too terribly much. “Okay, perfect. I got a form submission for a 12:00 highest on the 26th.” I added, looking over my most recent crop of e-mails. “Hmmm” Judy furrowed her brow in concentration, “No, that won’t work, we’ve got a party of 15 at 12:00 for a Bridal Shower Tea, see if they can move to either 11:00 am or 2:00 pm. Those are the only availabilities.” “I’ll go ahead and e-mail them.” I responded, tapping a few keys to bring that promise to life. “We will need someone on June 9th, we have that big pastry order for the store anniversary at Belk.” Judy flipped her calendar, and for the first time I truly realized how close to the end of May we were. “I also have a wedding that Friday, so we will definitely need to schedule a lot of help because I’ll be down for the count just filling those two orders.” I’m the Pastry Chef, so I shoulder most of the actual baking responsibility, but I always make sure that only I do the wedding cakes. I’m very, very particular about the wedding cakes. “Can do. Law, can you make yourself available?” “Already planning on it, boss.” My friend was nothing if not dependable. “Y’all know I ain’t got shit going on otherwise.” “Thanks, my dude. Did you buy your tickets for the Front Bottoms yet?!” we had only been talking about going to see them for, oh I don’t know, a million years now. I needed him to stop dragging his feet and commit to going with me already. I hate going places by myself, especially Asheville. “ohmagod, do you want me to buy the tickets in front of you? Do you want me to purchase the gahdang tickets right frickin now so you can watch and make sure I do it, MOM?” like I said, the back and forth never stops with us. “actually that would bring me great pleasure.” I said, a smug smile taking over. “FINE.” He yelled, while pulling out his phone with more dramatic flourish than I probably deserved. After a few enunciated taps, he announced he had indeed purchased the ticket (showing me the text for proof) “You’re driving my ass there I hope you know. And buying me a beer – Wicked Weed is right next door and I’m not about to take on a buncha teenage FB fans without some liquid assistance.” “I’ll do you one better – I’ll buy you a PRETZEL to go with your beer.” I’m feeling very magnanimous, obviously. The day ended as does every other – with our tiny crew barely holding it together, and counting down the last five minutes like we were in Time’s Square watching the ball drop. Unfortunately for me, though, keeping up morale until 5:00 wasn’t going to be my biggest problem of the day.
The drive home was especially short for me, considering I lived less than a block away from the shop. Yes, I choose to drive - you haven’t been on these mean streets at 3:00 am. I put my little Honda in park, and tried to get all the groceries in one go, something at which I seemed to be failing miserably. Reaching for my key, usually hanging from the tiny cupcake keychain my boyfriend’s niece got me for Christmas a few years ago, I was shocked to look down and see nothing more than a broken bead chain. Sonofa – “NOOOOOOO not again!!!!” I whined, loudly. Cute it may be, practical it was not – I had lost my house key more times than I could count at this point during our five-year stint in our little Edgewood home. Micah’s car was here, though, so I could at least just bang on the door until he let me in. “MICAH! MICAH I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, LET ME IN YOU PUNK.” -bang bang bang- -bang bang bang- “I SWEAR TO CHRIST IF YOUR’E SLEEPING THROUGH THIS I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU. YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET THIS DOOR OPEN” -bang bang bang- At this point, my hand was starting to hurt desperately, so I decided that –naturally- the best course of action was to begin kicking the door. However, one can only punch and kick a door for so long before one decides one looks like a crazy person and the neighbors start peeking out their windows. I pulled out my phone to begin the task of calling him until he answered, but after the fifth call of incessant ringing, it started going straight to voicemail. Huh. I mean, that’s probably nothing right? “Hey, it’s Micah, I’m either busy or just can’t get to the phone right now – either way, leave me a message and I’ll call you back… or I won’t. Later. Beeeeeeeep” “Micah, what the hell? I’m sitting outside, freezing, alone, getting really shitty looks from our very terrible neighbors, I lost my key – again. Yes, I know. Your car is here, so I don’t know why you’re not, but I guess just let me know whenever you can. I love you.” A knot began twisting in the pit of my stomach – our relationship would never be described as “stable” or “healthy”, a fact that my friend who was currently going to school to be a therapist (whatever that’s called – therapy school? Therapist school? How-does-that-make-you-feel school?) was always very quick to point out. “If someone really loved you, they wouldn’t make you feel this way.” “If he really loved you, he would make you a priority.” “People in healthy relationships don’t end up crying on their friends’ couches this much.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. We started dating when I was young – honestly, no frontal lobe development whatsoever – and we got way too serious way too quickly. What would you do if you were 19 and your boyfriend’s mom made you promise to take care of him on her deathbed? Yeah, that’s right, don’t judge me; maybe I should’ve left years earlier, but sometimes the hardest thing is to do is scream for help when your lungs have filled with water. So, I sat there. I sat on that porch for five hours and twenty-seven minutes and you can bet your ass if my watch counted seconds I would know those, too. Finally, the darkness was punctured by a harrowing halogen beacon, said beacon not being attached to any car I immediately recognized, but at this point a literal prostitute could’ve been driving him home and I wouldn’t have cared – the need to urinate was all encompassing and entirely overbearing. A slow roll, the sound of the door opening and quickly closing, a decidedly female voice offering promises of meeting again soon; the soft crunch of glass-flecked grass from when he accidentally broke two of my solar lights but never bothered to clean it up, the rattle of keys being removed from the same front, left pocket in which they always rested. “’bout time.” I slurred – admittedly, at some point during my wait I had decided to crack into the beers I had purchased earlier. And by “crack into” I mean “drink all of”. “jesus!” micah whispered, jumping back and assuming what I can only imagine was meant to be a defensive position, “Kat? What are you doing out here? Christ, you scared the SHIT outta me!” “Oh, no… are you slightly inconvenienced? Oh, oh, no… I would hate for your date to end on a sour note.” “Date? Oh, seriously, Kat? Really? You’re gonna get mad about me for hanging out with an old friend?” Micah’s mood immediately turned, and I knew it could only be headed in one direction. “Don’t bring him up.” I warned “For fuck’s sake” he huffed “so you’re free to throw my female friends in my face whenever you want, but I can’t bring up your so-called… what is it that you call him?” he asked in a mocking tone “best friend forever? Your little bestie? Bestie Bitch?” “Seriously, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, that’s different.” I argued – the same argument we’ve had time and time again. “Oh, I do know what I’m talking about. I don’t give a shit that you guys have been friends since you were in diapers or whatever you want to claim – that guy is in love with you; he would be at the front of your line, and you know it.” He sneered “God, Micah, when are you finally going to admit that you’re unhappy? When will you stop trying so desperately to make ‘us’ work?” I pleaded, practically on my knees – because, damn, I was druuunk. “When will you?” I can’t explain what happened next, because never in my life have I been that person – the one who is strong enough to walk away, the one who can say no. I can only thank the Stella gods for giving me the distinguished courage to stand up – for, arguably, the first time in my life – and have the self-respect to finally walk away. “Now.” I blinked, suddenly realizing what I was saying, gathered what remained of my groceries (that I hadn’t eaten or drank) and stood up, ready to take the first step. Ready to make a move solely for myself, without worrying about someone who had never spent a day worrying about me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Back up… what?” Micah kept doing this ‘I can’t believe this is happening’ blinking and head shaking combination, probably unsure what to do in a situation where I wasn’t a complete pushover, “say that again? I had to hear you wrong.” “Now.” I said again, much more forcefully, “I’m done. You’re done. We’re done, that simple. I’m leaving – I’ll, uh, come back sometime to get my stuff. I’m taking Penelope and MacGyver.” “You’re serious? Oh, you sweet, simple little bunny… just like that? Just… done? Where do you think you’re gonna go?” he had turned condescending, and I was not there for that. At. All. “I told you to stop calling me that, you ass. I’ll find somewhere to stay – so many people have been begging me to leave you and offering their homes as shelter, it’s not me I’m worried about.” “Well leave your key, I don’t want you sneaking back in here and taking my shit.” Oh, Micah, you always were unnecessarily paranoid. Looking back, it was probably the drugs I didn’t know you were taking. “I lost my key – if you answered your phone, you’d know that.” “Are you sure you can’t stay – we can talk this out?” “There’s nothing to talk about, Micah. We’re done. Now, get the hell out of my way, I’m leaving.” “You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking… you have to stay.” He had a point, and I’m honestly super terrified of breaking the law, but before he had even finished his sentence, I had my phone out and was halfway to dialing the only person I could consistently rely on. “Kat, baby? What’s wrong?” he answered – he always answers. “I’m sorry, Phoenix, I know it’s late… I just” oh, no, the tears. The tears started happening. “I don’t give a shit what time it is – you can call me day or night, you know that – you just never call.” His voice had taken on a tender quality, probably in response to my sobs. “I, uh, I… ah, fuck, can you come get me? Please?” “Absolutely, where are you?” “Ho-“ Micah cast a harsh glare in my direction, “… um, Micah’s house.” I corrected myself – this place hadn’t ever really been my home, anyway. “… is that a new place, or a new name for an old place?” I could hear his hesitancy – I didn’t know how to approach this situation, how could I expect him to? “It’s the same address… just a different situation.” I didn’t really want to get into it, considering Mr. Glarey McGlareson was still shooting eye-daggers at me. “Give me ten minutes.” “Don’t speed.” I attempted to sound stern “Kitkat, I’m coming to pick you up from what I can only assume to be your now ex-boyfriend’s house, I’ll be there in ten minutes or I owe you a bag of chips.” “I’m timing you.” “You’d better.” “Well isn’t that just precious – you’re moving on mighty fast there, Kitkat.” Micah sneered as soon as I hung up on Phoenix. “Seriously? Don’t. Just, don’t. I’m not the one who got dropped off by another woman.” I warned, but it was hollow – honestly, whoever she was, call that bitch up and I’ll thank her myself for being the impetus for this conversation. Micah decided it would be better to not wait with me, and I couldn’t have agreed more. He told me he would call me when he felt comfortable with me getting my stuff – I told him I would be by to get my cats by the end of the following week. He snorted some semblance of an agreement, walked up the two-steps to the small porch, stalked through the front door and ended the entire conversation with a slam. Nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Phoenix’s truck pulled up in front of the 1940s bungalow I wouldn’t sleep another night in. How magnificent. “Jesus, P, how fast did you go?” “What do I need to load? What’s the game plan?” he clapped his hands, rubbing them together like he was either about to do some manual labor or concoct a dastardly plot to take down that do-gooder, Dudley. “I’m sorry, game plan?” I asked, still pretty tipsy, considering. “Yeah – let’s get this done, move you out. Why wait?” “Well, for one, it’s like three in the morning. For two, this wasn’t planned and I haven’t even packed a single shred of anything. I’m not ready, I’ll just come back.” “What’s in your hands?” confusion echoed across his handsome features. I mean, sure we’re only friends, but I can appreciate a good lookin’ guy, you feel me? “What?” I looked down, because honestly I had kind of forgotten, “Oh, groceries.” I shrugged. “That bastard let you go to the grocery store before he broke up with you?” “Hey! Who says he broke up with me?” “Kat, girl, it’s you…” head cocked, twinge of guilt, but ultimately not a wrongful assessment “Yeah, well, ya girl grew a pair tonight. My bitch ass left his bitch ass.” Sassy really isn’t my forte, but I gave it a go. “Oh, now I need to hear the full story.” Behind my head I heard a window crank open, that particular window was in the kitchen which looked directly out over the portion of the front yard in which we were currently standing. Phoenix and I both turned from the intruding noise. “Seriously, guys?” Micah deadpanned from the window – his hair was askew, his eyes red, and a cigarette was hanging from his lips “DON’T SMOKE INSIDE” Phoenix and I yelled in unison, looking at each other and giggling like schoolgirls “Yeah, my house, my rules, now seriously fuck off.” And with that little nugget, he stalked off to probably watch porn right in the living room because apparently the house was now a lawless land. “I really hate that guy” Phoenix noted “I really know you do.” “What were you thinking?” he whined “I have asked myself that every day for the past 5 years.”
The drive to Phoenix’s house took decidedly longer than nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds, probably because we took back roads so we could listen to music longer – something we had always done. There was always singing, usually dancing, and more than a few times there were tears. After minor protest, he helped me carry in my groceries. Unlocking the door, he flicked on the light to reveal the home he had been pouring his heart into renovating for the past two years. The coffee table was new – he built it. “Just put the groceries on the counter and I’ll help you put them up.” He whispered “Thanks – I would say we could just toss them and start over, but these are kind of my only worldly possessions right now, and I’m a little attached.” I whispered back, because duh. “I understand – it’s hard to not get attached to…” plucking a random box out of my bags, “tender whites popcorn.” He said, still whispering. “Hey, P, did you get a roommate?” “Hell, naw, why?” “Why are we whispering?” “Ha!” he laughed, louder now, “in my head we were sneaking into one of our parents’ houses. God, sometimes in my head we’re still teenagers.” He was clearly reminiscing. “I wish things were still that simple.” I released on a sigh “Well, do you wanna sleep or talk?” he was never one to tiptoe around the delicate “Honestly? Sleep. I promise I’ll give you the full story over the coffee you make me in the morning “God” he snorted “you will never change, huh?” “Here’s hoping.” “Wouldn’t want you any other way. The guest room is made up, you know the way, I’m hitting the hay. If you need anything, keep it to your damn self because I’m sleepy. Love you, bestie.” He gave me a quick hug – because even after being friends for most of our lives, neither of us was particularly physically demanding “I love you, too, P. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for saving my ass, again.” “Anytime, KK.” We parted ways, him walking to his master bedroom, and me walking to the guest bedroom situated directly across the short hallway. He paused at his door, and looked back at me “Kat?” I paused, and turned as well, “yeah, Phoenix?” “…welcome back.” “Where had I gone?” “Nowhere good.” The pain was obvious on his face “You’re not wrong, bestie. You’re not wrong.” “You’ll get through this.” “I always do.” “I’ll be right here.” “… you always are” I added before finally closing my door. I guess, in a way, I was back. Like waking up after a deep sleep riddled with nightmares, full of monsters and shadows holding you down and filling you with a sense of inferiority. I suppose, in some small measure, this was one of the first monumental moments of clarity in my fog-riddled existence. I only wish I had stayed up my upward trajectory, stayed full of hope and happiness, kept the lightness of losing a boyfriend-sized weight. Ah, well, I wouldn’t have much of a story to tell then, now would I?
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Justice Society of America #1 (1992)
Hourman looks like he's trying to remember how long they've been battling this thing.
If your super power is that you take a pill that lets you have super powers for one hour, don't call yourself Hourman. Why would you tell every villain you're battling that if they just prolong the fight for a little over sixty minutes, they'll kick your ass? My theory is that Hourman's pills actually work for two hours and by purporting that his powers only last an hour, he eventually takes them by surprise when they find he didn't lose his powers. Also, by making them think he'll be powerless at the end of an hour, any stalling tactics they choose to use just gives more time for JSA backup to arrive. Maybe Hourman is smarter than I thought! I remember picking up this comic book because something in me wanted to like and appreciate the Justice Society. I believe I eventually killed that part of me with hallucinogenic mushrooms and alcohol. I also think I gave it a try because of the cartoony cover art and the logo that screams, "This is a cartoon!" It totally fooled me even though, at twenty, I should have realized comic books and cartoons were quite different mediums.
We interrupt this comic book review to say good morning to Gravy. Note the Lobo statue and the H.P. Lovecraft horror corner angle of my office.
The issue begins by reminding the readers that the Justice Society is composed of old geezers. But they don't look super old even though they fought Nazis because they were trapped in a bottle fighting Ragnarok or something. That's how I remember it and I won't be convinced of anything different. Erasing incorrect memories and replacing them with facts is probably like using an old VHS tape to constantly tape over old shows. Pretty soon the quality of the tape is fucked and you can't tell what the hell you're watching. And I don't want my brain to become an old VHS tape full of static and flip-flopping images! I'd rather it be full of crystal clear misinformation!
Popcorn for the kid and a large cup of bull semen for gramps!
These two nobodies have come to Gotham Stadium to see an exhibition put on by the Justice Society. They're all there: the ones with wings, the one with the bedpan on his head, the squat one that definitely gets paid to shit in people's mouths, the blind one, the one with a wood allergy, the one with the pill addiction, the gassy one, the possessed one, the furry, and Starman. You can tell they're an older generation group because only one of them is female and she's just a redundant copy of Hawkman. Clark and Lois are in attendance to sort of explain why the Justice Society aren't super old farts.
I guess I'll learn the details when I get around to reading Armageddon 2001 and its spin-offs. That was the crossover where Captain Atom becomes tyrant of the world in a dystopian future. Oh, sorry. It was actually Hawk and not Captain Atom because all the readers immediately guessed it was Captain Atom and the editors were all, "We need to surprise the audience! Make it a character nobody would have guessed or even cared about at all!"
Lois starts getting romantic and maudlin thinking about how she and Clark may get to spend as many years together as the Justice Society and she turns to him and says half of something romantic before she's interrupted by Clark saying, "Hey, there's the mayor!" What a scoop! Although why the fuck is Clark getting so excited about the mayor of Gotham? The mayor calls the Justice Society "America's greatest heroes" and Clark's boner doesn't subside because he's such a humble Kansas farm boy. Can't we agree that just because somebody was first doesn't mean we have to hold them up as being the best? I mean, George Washington was the first president of the United States but nobody considers him the greatest president. That was obviously Jimmy Carter. That wasn't a joke. Jimmy Carter was our greatest president. Change my mind. No wait. Don't change my mind. There's nothing I hate more than debating over the Internet. Just go have an ice cream cone and calm the fuck down. The mayor introduces all of the Justice Society for the young kids reading who are just thinking, "Who the fuck are these jerks?" The giant monster that crawls up from underground conveniently waits to attack until the entire team is introduced. Good thing or else I'd keep thinking, "Why is Jimmy Olsen on the Justice Society?" Now I know that's Johnny Thunder! Those of you paying close attention already know I knew that was Johnny Thunder when I referred to him as "the possessed one."
Don't you mean "What in Earth?", Hawkwoman?
Ha ha! I'm like the one asshole you time travel with who always responds to the person saying "Where are we?" with "Don't you mean 'When are we?'" Always such a good line that's been said five million times so it always seems weird when some script writer thinks it's okay to use it yet again. Fuck I hope nobody says it in the new Bill and Ted movie. Justin (the young man with the grandfather guzzling bull semen) gets so excited he leaps head first out of the upper deck. Hawkwoman saves him because the guys are too busy not being compassionate enough. Although did he want to be saved? I don't know. I might take the dive if I had to hang out with a guy who drinks large cups of bull semen. Medium or small, I could handle. I might even indulge in a small. But fucking large? And overflowing! So gross.
Oh the nights I've had that began with me thinking, "If I can only get a wirepoon through that Moby Dick!"
Superman swoops in to beat up the monster and steal all of the attention for himself. I guess he did bristle at the notion that the Justice Society were America's greatest heroes. He could have at least waited a few minutes to see if they could stop the monster without all dying of heart attacks. I suppose as soon as Sandman crumpled to his knees while clasping his chest and screaming, "I'm comin'!", Superman felt forced to intervene.
The pill popper is just saying what we're all thinking.
Superman mentions that this is the Justice Society's retirement party. That makes sense. I shouldn't have assumed that they were returning to reality to constantly battle the Ultra-Humanite. They just want their pension checks and some hard candies. Sandman is down and Johnny Thunder believes he's had another stroke.
Luckily Wildcat got to Sandman before the mouth shitter.
Later, Alan and Jay* go to a diner to indulge in some exposition (*Alan is Green Lantern and Jay is The Flash -- Nerd Editor Big Nerd Grunion!). They returned to Earth rejuvenated but now some of that is wearing off. I guess maybe in Armageddon Inferno, they returned much younger and now for this series, the writer wanted to get them back up to kind of old. But not super old like all of their wives and husbands! Not that any of them have husbands because they're all straight males (I think! This is before Alan became New 52 gay). They discuss how back in their day, they only had to fight "jewel thieves and bank robbers" while the new heroes now battle "mass murderers" too. Did they forget about all the Nazis they fought?! Maybe they just remember them as simple art thieves?
Oh, okay. They remember Hitler and the Nazis. It's just a seeming smallish footnote in their story, I guess.
While having coffee, Jay and Alan get their super hero news alerts just like they always have: a television playing in the background with the sound way up. Apparently some "anti-nuke loonies" have laid siege to a nuclear reactor. And they're not as peaceful as you'd expect people who are anti-nuclear power would be; they're armed and, um, loony?
Oh, I guess they are loonies! They're just not anti-nuke like Alan assumed. He is old so everybody fucking up the status quo is probably just another Goddamned hippie to him.
Who is that guy and who are the mutant wild life and why have they been imprisoned? It would have been easier to understand if they actually were armed hippies protesting against nuclear war by exploding a power plant. Oh, duh. That's Cain, leader of The New Order! How could I forget Cain and the New Order after only 28 years! The other members of New Order are Scud, Ammo, Corona, and...Pooch? They're not too experienced or maybe Alan and Jay are super experienced because Alan and Jay beat them like a schoolyard bully beats the new kid's younger sister while making the new kid watch. That was my last simile from my stash of bulk similes I had Pickle Boy write me a few months ago. I guess it was good enough. But now I'm going to need more! Green Lantern and The Flash decide they're not ready to retire after playing hero. But they don't decide it with dignity and gravitas. The Flash just says, "Retirement?" And Green Lantern embarrassingly responds, "Not!" Ah ha ha! Oh, 1993, how I miss you! I mean I don't but I'm not going to say the word that implies I didn't really mean that which makes the entire statement super funny because I'm referencing a film based on a short sketch that was totally hilarious. Justice Society of America #1 Rating: C. It's probable that this series was green-lit simply because DC management were nostalgic for the Justice Society. I'm sure the pitch was simply, "Picture this: the Justice Society of America! But older! But not too much older! Just the right amount of older!" And everybody was all, "Okay. Sure. Whatever. We're busy planning the death of Superman over here. Just do what you want." I guess that was good enough. I mean, I bought it and I was not very discriminating at all! You picked up a lot of comic books you didn't really care about when they were only a buck twenty-five per issue.
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