#and that coworker (who lied) is my fellow MANAGER

[prydon]

oh my god i’m so sorry about your coworker betrayal. there’s literally nothing worse 😭😭😭

my coworkers are ruining my life but it's all right <3 thank you for your sympathy anon, i genuinely really appreciate it haha. it's been hours and i've only just calmed down from my seething rage

[strawglicks]

Talking About Cathal's Flaws Because Why Not

cathal is my whole world my whole universe they are allowed to do anything they want they can end the world and i will stand by their side i adore them. ok now that i got that out of my system let me genuinely talk abt his flaws and analyze it a bit more in depth

To Be Real, He's Very Spoiled.

Now, it wouldn't be fair to demean Cathal to just some spoiled brat. But, to be fair, the only reason they've gotten as far as they have is because of their dad holding their hand through it all. Cathal's dad is the only reason he has a job, is the jr V.P, and hasn't gotten fired.

Their dad wrote their personal statement to ensure they were hired.

Their dad specifically makes sure, no matter how many disciplinary records they have, that Cathal doesn't lose their job. This line may actually imply that they HAVE almost lost their job (which makes sense due to the amount of rules they've broken) but their dad stopped it from happening.

Not to mention, even when made aware of his son slacking around, Allan straight up lies to management. He claims he'll disconnect the cable immediately, but according to the following lines in Cathal's battle:

...Allan didn't do anything about the cable like he said he would.

Due to all this, it makes sense Cathal is spoiled. They just have their whole future handed to them on a silver platter without them even needing to try. And because they're not even given the chance to learn, grow, or develop new skills, they wind up rather depressed and apathetic. Which leads me to another point.

Cathal is Extremely Apathetic/Careless, Which Affects Themselves and Everyone Around Them.

A huge aspect of Cathal's character is his laziness, procrastination, and carelessness. But I think it's important to dive into the "why" of these qualities.

Like I said before, Cathal has their career handed to them without even lifting a finger. There are several times he slacks off, doesn't show up to work, doesn't DO his work, etc., yet he keeps his job because of his dad and nothing is done about these problems. This is likely one of the biggest reasons he's so apathetic and doesn't care to get around to his work anyway. If there are no consequences, what's the point of following the rules?

And that's where most of this behavior drives from. "What's the point?"

If the toons won't attack Cathal, what's the point of Cathal attacking the toons?

If their dad just keeps getting repaired, what's the point of destroying him in the first place?

What is the point of any of this?

Cathal seeking a meaning and finding none leads to their apathy and carelessness, which then causes them to slack off and make things harder on their fellow coworkers. This is shown in things like this comic, featuring a skelecog who's overworked just to do a simple, minimal effort task just because Cathal didn't feel like it.

What's the point of doing ANY work when he can have someone else do it instead?

Which leads me into another point-

Cathal is Quite Selfish and Doesn't Value Anyone's Time But His Own.

There are several instances of Cathal being pretty self-centered, specifically about their time being wasted. Almost like a certain someone...(graham. its graham. im talking about graham. these two are like two sides of one coin but thats another post for another day)

Many of these instances can simply be found in their fight dialogue.

They give total attitude when you interrupt their shows, rushing to get back to it because they find it much more important than their actual job: fighting the toons.

They're shown to generally be impatient and rude whenever they feel their time being wasted. (This handful of lines also displays some of Cathal's attitude and snarkiness, which I think goes WAY unnoticed in the community)

Cathal doesn't even seem to have any shame in the fact he wastes time. As a matter of fact, he almost seems prideful of it, like no one seems to understand how pointless this all is except for him. It almost gives him a bit of an ego (almost like a certain someone.)

That All Being Said, I Don't Think Cathal Has Any Malicious Intent.

I think they're young, spoiled, and inexperienced in the workplace. Their only real jobs have been helping their dad with small chores around the office rather than working for a massive company as a whole (not to mention being next in line as Jr. Vice President of said company. it's a lot of responsibility to spring onto someone so inexperienced, and it's a big responsibility to just hand to someone who clearly has no interest or passion in it.)

Cathal's never been given a real chance to find something to be passionate about, or given any real motive to be passionate about the things he DOES have. I don't think it's an excuse for him to sit back and make everyone else's lives harder, but it is an explanation.

I think Cathal is an important character to mention when discussing Cogs. Inc and how capitalist companies like this tend to destroy people. All it's done for Cathal is drain him of any passion or motivation whatsoever, if he had any before. The one thing he seems to be passionate about is his Dad, which is why he puts up with all this in the first place.

Anyway that's all I had to say. Cathal's an extremely important character to me, my absolute top favorite from TTCC (alongside Graham) and is heavily underappreciated and underdiscussed.

Here's a drawing I made a bit back of Cathal gaming because. This has been sitting in my files and I haven't found an excuse to post it LMFAO

[hollowmend]

Fetch Re;Quest Dev Log #1 - 11/15/2023

Welcome to the first official dev log for Fetch Re;Quest! This one is probably loooong overdue, haha...

It's a Sequel

I've been trying to make a sequel to my NaNoRenO game, Fetch Quest, literally since it came out. In fact, if you get the creator's commentary from itch, you'll see I was very confident that I'd be able to get something for it ready to go in just a few short months...

That was four and half years ago 😅 But after many false starts, I finally managed to get something going.

What's It About?

(Side note, I've been using Feniks' Easy Ren'Py GUI template a lot lately, and its a lifesaver. Check it out if you're a fellow dev!)

Hey! I think this might be the first real screenshot I've posted of the game! Isn't Flora's bedroom cute?

Anyway! Fetch Re;Quest picks up directly after the upcoming Fetch Quest Remaster's new "True Ending".

After their one-shot TTRPG session ends, Flora finds herself wrestling with a problem. She has a crush on her coworker and would like to ask him out, but she's a little nervous.

So what does she do? Procrastinate, of course!

Flora sets a one week challenge for herself to grind up her stats in preparation for the final battle- Asking the object of her affection out on a date.

Luckily, she and her coworkers Connor, Todd, and Dan all have the week off. Flora decides to use the various board, card, and video games she and her friends play as a way to mentally level up.

The Stats

That's right, the game is a (light!) stat raiser. Each day, the gang decide between four games to play, each of which are tied to one of Flora's imaginary stats. Each game has its own scenes and helps Flora build up her confidence.

Techno-opolis is a 4X civilization building boardgame that increases Flora's "Acumen".

Of Fiends and Fangs is a social deduction card game about werewolves, vampires, villagers and betrayal that increases Flora's "Charm".

Clockwork Mercenaries is a steampunk monster hunting game that forces Flora to get "Gud".

and Deathpocolypse 2 is a janky ghost hunting game that increases Flora's "Moxie".

But be careful... Flora is easily distracted, and getting too into a game could lead to her completely forgetting about her original mission.

So Who's the Crush?

It's Dan.

Much to my surprise, the tired, snarky GM of the first game was very popular. I got a lot of comments lamenting the fact that he wasn't one of the love interests.

So here he is, the sole LI of Fetch Re;Quest! Sorry to any Connor or Todd lovers. It's Danny's time to shine.

New Characters

Connor and Todd will be prominently featured, but Fetch Re;Quest will also introduce a handful of new characters as well! Here's a sneak peek of about half the new cast:

Nona, Teddie, and David (pronounced Dah-veed) are members of the band Cats Eat Bats! There is one more member named TJ not pictured, but you've already met him, so...

Flora sets herself the daunting task of asking Dan out during their concert at the end of the week, but they show up here and there throughout the entire game. They're especially involved if you play a lot of Deathpocolypse 2!

What's Next?

A large portion of the game is already written and I've started commissioning the assets I'm not making myself. Things are really starting to roll now!

Right now I'm working on finishing the script and making the sprites. Hopefully that means there will be more visual things to show off soon.

Until Next Time

Hopefully these dev logs are at the very least interesting! If there's anything in particular you want to know about the game, feel free to send me an ask.

[dancedance-resolution]

oh my god so much fucking info has come to light from this exit interview - my boss spoke very freely bc HES GOING TO BE PUTTING IN HIS NOTICE ON SUNDAY TOO FOR NEARLY ALL THE SAME REASONS I AM LMAO.

some highlights:

he was going to talk to me about how i handled “the ultimatum conversation” with the owner and i was like. bro do you want to know my side of that story (bc i was too terrified to tell him when it originally happened bc the owner was genuinely pissed at me). so i tell him how it goes and he was like oh! she genuinely straight up fucking lied to me then about how that went.

SHE FOUND OUT A FEW DAYS BEFORE I QUIT THAT I HAD BEEN TALKING TO PPL ABOUT SALARIES LOL. according to sam the reason she called me into her office that day was not bc i had requested to speak to her - apparently she had forgotten about that. she was going to call me in to write me up for talking about salaries lol. and my boss was like be careful bestie bc that’s illegal and i’m like 😎 it’s illegal for a manager to ask previous salary in an interview but as i understand it it is Very Legal for me to ask my fellow workers

i’m very very confused how she found out though bc i have been talking to ppl about salaries since day fucking one, nearly a year ago lol. and i haven’t really talked to anyone about it recently??? like why did she find out Just Now. (also it’s hilarious that i got away with it for so long lol i fucking love that for me.) my current theory is that quinn (my coworker who currently lives with the owner - HUGE ethical issue imo bc if she needs to ask for a raise or make a complaint or do anything to rock the boat, she risks not only losing her paycheck but her housing) offhandedly mentioned that we had talked about it to one of the owner’s kids, thinking nothing of it, and then one of the owner’s kids ratted on me. i have my very biased suspicion of who lol but that’s not based on any evidence, just my own grievances against her lol.

so much more shit came to light and you know what i’m living. i feel a little bit thrown about the whole I Was About To Be Written Up For Talking Salaries but now that i’ve had time to think about it i’m genuinely hoping it was an accident bc i am sure none of my coworkers who i have talked to would do that to me. i trust them. i have to or else i’d be a “no one is your friend everyone is looking out for themself and wants to fuck you over” republican lol

[callsign-phoenix]

This is a part two to this fic I wrote.

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @the-decency-of-merciful-lies for proofreading!

Warnings: cursing, serious angst, paraplegia, this fic is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

“So you do care,” were Jake’s first words when he woke up again.

An involuntary smile spread across your face and you let out a laugh that was masked by a final sob before you managed to compose yourself slightly.

You shook your head in denial, but he smiled even though you were sure it hurt.

“No, you love me, I heard you,” he said, the pride obvious in his voice, even though he looked like hell.

You smiled and gave him one short nod, holding his hand just a little tighter.

“Shut up, Jake,” you laughed through the tears before you wiped them away, looking at him in all seriousness and making sure he knew you were true with what you were going to say.

“I do, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for everything, and I’d like to try again,” you said softly and he nodded, moaning in pain when he did.

“I want to help you deal with whatever this is, until you can get back to flying and you can decide if you want me around.”

He was about to say something but stopped himself, letting his eyes roam the room and finding his legs tucked neatly into a hospital blanket.

There was a second before he said something, his happy expression at the words he had longed to hear for so long falling from his face like the tears previously had from yours.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he said, an icy feeling erupting in your stomach.

“I’m not going out there!” Jake said enthusiastically as he shook his head, his eyes trained on you.

It had been weeks since he had woken up in the hospital and you had spent all the time you had supporting him.

You were there when he was discharged from the hospital, driving home and helping him settle in.

You had stayed with him the entire time, helping him get used to the new situation he was in.

Jake Seresin was paralyzed from the waist down, which meant that he couldn’t work or live the way he was used to.

While everyone was happy he was alive he was very short-tempered, fear, anger and confusion about his new life apparent in every word he said to you.

You felt like you deserved it, you felt like it was at least partly your fault that he was in an accident.

He had trouble adjusting and you did your best to help, even in situations like these.

Jake and you were cramped up in his room while a dozen guests waited in his garden, a ‘welcome home’ and a ‘we’re glad you’re alive’ party that had been planned by his parents in process.

“I’m not going out there just so they can stare at me in pity and disgust, most of them didn’t even visit me when I was in hospital!” He said in anger, his pretty face contorted in a grimace.

You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, nodding because you understood how he felt.

“Jake, they’re happy to see you. They came because they’re glad you made it out alive,” you tried your best, but he wasn’t having it.

“What, the people that didn’t visit me in hospital?” He asked, and you looked away from him because he was right about it.

Except for his fellow aviators and you, no one had come to see how he was doing.

“And you, who didn’t talk to me for seven fucking months only to tell me to die the day before I go on my mission?” He continued.

You flinched at the comment but you accepted it, standing up for the mistakes you made.

You took a deep breath before you continued talking.

“Your parents organised the entire thing, I didn’t like the idea either. But sometimes you do things that concern you for other people, this is one of those times,” you told him.

“Your family loves you and your coworkers too, and I’ll be by your side the entire time,” you continued, walking towards him to make your words more believable.

“This is fucking humiliating,” he grumbled but he nodded at you, thankful for your help even if he didn’t say so.

He wasn’t thrilled to face his loved ones but he did so, all while you made sure to stay by his side the entire time.

Jake and you had a strange relationship since he came home from the hospital, you hadn’t talked about what you were to each other and you stayed in his guest room, basically living with him.

You helped him as much as you could and he needed you, even if he hated to admit it.

You hadn’t kissed or slept together since you lived together, but you had developed another kind of intimacy.

While you got used to help Jake around the house with specific things he hadn’t gotten used to it yet, he was upset a lot of the time, mouthing back at you when you offered your help.

He was sad and angry, disappointed in the situation he was in, even if physical therapy seemed to at least lessen his pain.

You didn’t know what he was angry at exactly but you let him take his anger out on you until it became too much.

Caring for Jake wasn’t your only job, you still had your work as a mechanic, but the moment you came back to where Jake and you lived it was an immediate switch to being there for him.

It was exhausting for you but you tried to think of how Jake had to feel with his adjustment.

He had a lot of physical therapy sessions and his doctors had told him he might be able to walk again, but he could kiss the idea of ever flying again goodbye.

Jake reacted the way you had imagined, only becoming more bitter about it.

When your superior kept you to work longer his nerves were strained already, but no matter how much you tried to help him he was only angry with you.

You knew he was experiencing physical, mental and emotional pain, but so were you.

“Give me a break, please Jake,” you let out when he complained about the fact that you were late back home.

“Give you a break? I won’t ever get one, do you know that?!” He raised his voice, but you only nodded in response.

“Yeah well I haven’t had one since you got home either, because you’re fucking exhausting!” You shouted, and Jake’s face showed the betrayal he felt.

“Oh, I’m exhausting? Well think about how exhausted I was after not sleeping a fucking second after the shit you said to me,” he growled.

“It’s your fault I’ll never be able to even work again!”

“No, it’s not, it’s not my fault alone! You knew how you were feeling, you could have declined to fly the fucking mission!” You answered with just as much hurt and anger in your voice.

You had allowed him to be angry and frustrated but he had hurt you too, you felt like you had suffered long enough.

“You always say it’s my fault, well I haven’t forgiven you for cheating on me yet! It’s not like just because you need my help I don’t remember what you did to me, I’m just here because I love you and you need my help!” You tried to justify yourself, but you were only hoping it would make sense to him.

“It might sound selfish but you hurt me, and I needed to hurt you back,” you continued, your voice lower by now but definitely not losing its intensity.

“I didn’t know this would happen, I would have never said anything had I known how much my words affected you,” you finished, and you saw Jake close his eyes for a second.

He was breathing heavily, but you saw that he was trying to control himself.

“I would have never… you know that, you know I’m so sorry,” you said as you felt the tears run down your cheeks like they last had when you visited him in the hospital.

For a while you didn’t get a reaction from Jake, he just let you cry, until you felt his hand on yours.

When you glanced at him his face had softened, the anger seemingly evaporated.

“I know you are, and I know you wouldn’t have,” he started, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry too. There’s nothing that excuses what I did, but I need to tell you why I did it,” he said, swallowing harshly as he felt your eyes on him.

“When I cheated on you I did so only so that you would find out about it. I was scared of what we had, how much I love you and what that would mean, and I decided I didn’t want to risk it. I was so wrong about that, and I’ve been regretting it every day of my life,” he said, scratching the back of his neck in anxiety.

“I felt like you seeing I wasn’t good for you would be the only way for you to leave,” he finished.

You were breathless but you nodded, having to process the information.

“I was so fucking wrong, and I’m sorry about that,” he said.

“I’d love to give you and me a try though, if you want,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’d like to work on us, on me, but I think I really need your help,” he said.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @kyramaximoff @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @thelifeofthelifeofme @midget713 @dannyramirezwife @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @peaches-1999 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @shadeds-library @katesmadness @call-sign-hurricane

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[scarletwidowaf]

broadway, baby. (part 1)

Florence pugh x female Reader

Summery: reader is a singing waitress in a new York restaurant (like in glee) where many famous people go to, and one night the little women cast are are there and R is their waitress.

Warnings: there's some cursing and harassment. Its not revolve around it but its there.

A\N: im soft for florence pugh and this is a complete shit.

masterlist

Credits: Glee Gif Credit • Florence Gifs Credit

“I'm just a Broadway Baby, walking off my tired feet, Pounding Forty Second Street to be in a show. Broadway Baby, learning how to sing and dance, waiting for that one big chance to be in a show.” - Cast of follies

Life can be hard and some days can be rough, especially in your line of work where people competed for the spotlight on a daily basis. but that's life and that’s the road you chose to walk through.  And it's alright, after all, what's life without a spark? A movie without a breaking point? or a shift at Clayton's without drama?

This was one of these days, the kind of days who kept you on an edge as your body and mind both ached for a break.

'Just roll with it. just a few hours for your day off.' You silently said to yourself.

Being a young artist in New York was a challenge you’ve taken on yourself, luckily for you working at "Clayton's" was a good way to start a career.  most people who started working there were young talented artist who were determined to make an impression over the industry. The place was always packed with many famous people, from actors to singers and producers. So, in many ways, working in "Clayton's" could be a ticket to Broadway or the music industry. And that was the reason you moved there in the first place.

You tried the traditional way, but after months of trying to get into college and fix your past mistakes, like your high school career, you decided that this path wasn’t for you. no matter what you did or how hard you tried your ADHD still managed to kick your ass. So, that’s how you ended up as a singing waitress in NY. You liked your job, truly. You liked singing and dancing and meeting cool people along the way, but sometimes it was just too much.

"You look like shit" Aaron said from his spot at the bar.

Aaron was a sweet guy and probably the only straight person in your group of friends. He was charming and talented and most importantly; he was the first friend you got in NY.

Aaron pulled his long brown hair into a bun as he chuckled at you. You huffed in frustration in return.

"Thanks" you muttered as he passes you a mug with coffee, hoping to help you get a grip before the restaurant opens.

"You need to rest" he said. "properly" 

"that’s overrated" you joked and took a sip.

You felt an hand on your shoulder and you turned around to meet your friend's stern gaze. "You, okay?" she asked

"Always" you answered Mackenzie's question and she raised her eyebrow, knowing full well you were lying. 

"we should sing as a warm up!" David, another one of your coworkers and Aaron's twin brother said.

"Let's not" Aaron said as he rolled his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm. 

You laughed quietly as the two started bickering. Mack and you glanced at each other knowingly. Both of you already know who will win in the stupid argument.

15 minutes later, after a group warm up and Aaron's dramatic sighs 'Clayton's' was open for business.

It was a nice evening, not too full, not too loud. And most importantly, not too many known faces.

Of course, you liked to have famous people on your shifts, and it could obviously be a game changer for you but it can get intense at times and you want in the mood. Seriously, how can you be the only one who found singing "defying gravity' in font of Idina Menzel as a very stressful experience?? You were terrified by the idea you'll fuck up in front of the original singer- and make a total fool out of yourself. 

When 10 pm rolled around, every opinion you had about the evening flew out the window. at this point, the restaurant was full with costumers and some known faces as well, and you found yourself holding every inch of you together as you approach the table who was occupied by the one and only Meryl Streep, and some fellow little women cast members.  

 *rule number 1 of working at Clayton's: don't make costumers feel uncomfortable. Don't annoy the costumers, don't ask for autographs if they're famous and generally treat them as normal and respectfully as you can. *

 "Hello, my name is Y/N and ill be your waitress for tonight" you introduced yourself with a small smile. The women smiled at you brightly.

"How does it work" Meryl held the tablet with a puzzled expression. "Am I that old?" She joked

"Barley" One of the other women, Emma fucking Watson, said. 

"I know it looks complicated-" you told them as you took the tablet from Meryl's hand."-But it's pretty simple, actually, I promise. As you can see the top part of the tablet is divided into two sections: The right one who says 'ask for a waiter'- which means that your waiter- which in this case, me, is busy- probably performing at the moment, and you can ask for a different waiter." You said with an ease, knowing the explanation by heart.

"The left section says 'ask for my waiter' which is a pretty simple one to understand... I guess- if you'll need me for whatever reason, you can press it and it'll page me. Feel free to use it."  You said with a smile as you scanned their faces, making sure they understand the first part.

"And the bottom section?" Saoirse asked. 

"The bottom section is the 'refill' sections. It will get into validation only after ill place your order in my own tablet and send to the kitchen." You explained as you gestured to your own tablet. "It's pretty useful, the point of it is that you can ask for a refill without having to social with me. Its awesome"

You noticed one of them, Florence pugh, scanning the tablet with a small smile- as she listened to your explanation. She was absolutely a sight for sore eyes, that's for sure.

"Thats pretty cool" she said and you nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I got really excited over it when I started working here" you admitted awkwardly "most importantly- When a section isn't relevant its will be grey instead of in color so you won't get confused. Like, for example - if You haven't ordered anything yet you can't get a refill, for the obvious reason. or if I'm not performing you can't ask for another waiter... which means you're stuck with me for the time being" you finished with a small chuckle.

"I don't think any of us mind that" Florence smiled and the others agreed. The blonde smiled at you again and you blushed slightly. "You're singing, right?" she asked out of the blue, just when you were about to leave and let them look through their menus. 

"Yeah, i do. In a few minutes, actually" 

"Thats cool! Good luck" she smiled and you wondered if Emma, who set the closest to you, could hear how fast your heart's beating. 

"Thank you" you said with a smile and turned around to the stage. 

__________________

"you paged? I'm guessing you guys ready to order then" You said as you approached their table after your performance. 

"YOU WERE SO GODD!" Florence said excitedly.

"Thank you" you blushed slightly. 

What. The. Fuck. Y/N?! You scolded yourself.

The others joined into the conversation with their own compliments and you thought you'd die when Meryl Streep, the legend herself, complimented you.

After another few moments the conversation calmed downed and moved to the next, and most important topic: the food. You tried your best to not blush under Florence's soft gaze and keep your focus on the other members of her table as they consulted you about the dishes, but damn, that was hard.  luckily for you it didn’t take long and a few minutes later, their order was sent to the kitchen. 

 The next hour and a half weren't much different. you sang and placed orders, you smiled to costumers and even pretend to laugh at some old man's joke. And maybe (just maybe) you glanced over to Florence every now and then.

The thing about Clayton's is that apart for the famous people who visit there frequently, it also contains many of the rich and the snobs of New York, so you weren't surprised when you got paged from a table who was occupied by two guys with fancy clothes and their parents credit card.

"Hey" one of them said to you as you approached them. 

"hey, welcome to Clayton's! You're David's table, right?" You said and pointed at your friend who started his own performance.

"Yeah, the fag one" the other guy said and your smile fell.

Take a deep breath, Y/N. It's not worth it. 

"I see you guys already ordered a few minutes ago" you said as you checked your tablet.

"Yeah" the asshole confirmed. 

"Okay, in that case, how can I help you?" You asked politely as you could. 

"we would like to get the check." The first guy said politely as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet. "Keep the change" he said as you took it and made sure it was enough.

"Thank you" you smiled politely and made a mental note to give David his well-earned tip.

"my brother want to know if you're single" the asshole said and the nicer guy looked at his with his eyes wide.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a relationship" you lied after a moment, hoping the lie will spare both his feeling and any more questions in the subject.

The guy nodded in understanding but on the other hand, the other guy didn’t seem to get the massage.  

"I'm sure he won't mind sharing" the asshole said and you felt sorry for the poor guy for being related to this ass.

"What the fuck Chad" the nice guy said as chad smirked at you.

"yeah... that’s not going to happen." You glared at him "have a great weekend tho" you gritted out and turned around to leave.

you were taken by surprise when you felt chad's hand on your ass. Again, what the fuck?!

"What the fuck is wrong with you' asshole" you gritted out and moved away from him. 

Don't make a scene. He's not worth it. 

"C'mon-" he started to say as he got up. You moved away, knowing you were cornered since the place was full, the lights were deemed and the music was loud. 

"Don't touch me" you said and moved away; you're back hitting an empty table who stood nearly.

"Hey what's going on here?" You heard and turned to catch Florence walking to you.

If a look could kill chad would’ve been dead. that’s for sure. It's like the sweet and excited Florence had left and a different, intimidating (and hot) version of her took her space and so help you god, you were glad she was on your side.

"Nothing! we were just leaving, really" Frankie said.

"None of your business" brad said and Florence raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow, daring him to cross her.

"I see" she said "well, I'm sure y/n won't mind my intruding" 

'Thank god for Florence Pugh.' You thought.

Before chad could press the subject any further David, who just finished his performance, got there. You were sure he noticed that something was happening.

"what's going on here?" he asked after he scanned the situation quickly.

"nothing as I said to your friend, we were just leaving" Frankie said again. 

he didn’t want to draw any negative attention, just like you, and thankfully for the both of you, not many people noticed the situation.

This time chad didn't answer, he just glared at Florence and you while his brother pulled him away from the place.

"so, are you going to tell me what happened?" David asked Florence and you after the two left.

Florence looked at you, waiting for you to answer him. 

"Nothing" you lied. "it's okay David, you can go" you promised your friend. David looked at you with his 'I done believe you' expression, but he didn't press it any further. He just nodded before he turned around and left. 

 Rule number 2: do not make a scene under no circumstances. At Clayton's, everything you do while you're on the clock is practically showcased. You slip? you fall? you sing out of tune? Its under a spotlight, everyone can see that and everyone will have something to say about it. Thats the thing about this place.  most people who started there and moved on to bigger things as Broadway or Hollywood were practically trained to keep their best poker face, act on the demand or pretend that everything is okay when it was clearly not. 

 "You should go back to your table" you said to Florence 

she looked at you with an unreadable expression before she went back to her table. You didn't have much time to read into it since a few minutes later you found yourself at her table, printing their check and having a small friendly conversation with the women. You smiled at them as they left before you turned your tablet off and went to cover for Aaron at the bar.

 "I thought you guys left" You said with a smile when the blonde approached you a few minutes later. 

"Why did you lie?" Florence asked with the same unreadable expression from earlier.

Okay. No smiling then.

"I didn’t" you pulled out two shot glasses and filled them with tequila. The blonde gave you a 'are you kidding me' kind of look and you couldn't help but to chuckle. "I didn't see a reason to make a scene over nothing" you explained and downed one of the shots.

"It wasn't nothing Y/N" she said before taking the other glass. 

"its fine. I'm fine. He didn’t do anything " you said as she downed her shot.

"Yeah, because I was there" she argued.

"I can handle guys like him. Seriously, at this point it might as well be a part of my job" 

"you're not helping yourself"

"I liked you better smiling" you chuckled as she glared at you.

"I'm sure you did"

"shut up" 

"How's your back?" She asked/

The blonde definitely didn't seem convinced about the chad situation but you were just grateful for the change of subject.

"It will be alright"

"Good"

"I appreciate your worry, truly. But I'm fine and I really don't want to hold you back here over it" you said  

"Who said I was worried" she smirked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, you don't?" You played along 

"Nope"

"Then why are you still here? Its almost 12 am, don't you have something better to do" you teased her 

"no. Do you?" She turned the question and you laughed. 

"I guess not - considering the fact I work here and I'm still on clock"

"Oh, please we both know this place is about to close" she argued your logic

"True" you admitted

"So, if you have nothing better to do, and you don't, would you like to go out with me? You kinda owe me after I saved your ass earlier"

"Uh, and here I thought you did that as an act of kindness" you joked. A small smile playing on your lips.

"Ew no" she said and You laughed. "Well?" Florence pressed with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, why not. It's not like I have something better to do" 

"Just what I wanted to hear" she joked.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 2

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your stalker gets closer.

Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn't sleep much. Shallow spurts laced with fear. Your dreams when they came were vague but horrifying. A shadow, a voice, the feeling of being watched. Always.

You were roused by a creak. You'd left your door half-open last night. 

You sat up, the curtains drawn, and looked around. You rubbed your temple and pushed the covers away from you. You pulled down the hem of your tee and dragged your feet across the room. You elbowed the door open and stepped into the hall.

You looked around the corner into the living room. Bucky sat on the couch where you’d left him the night before. He cradled the tablet on his thigh as he yawned and flicked the screen. 

“Did you sleep at all?” You asked, your throat dry and scratchy. 

“You?” He asked as he looked up. “I just sent the audio into forensics for review. We might be able to run analysis on his voice and they’re working on tracing the call.”

“And what do I do?” You crossed your arms.

“What you’ve been doing,” he set the tablet on the coffee table and stood. He stretched his arms above him, the metal plates of his left contracting as he lowered it. “As far as we know, he has no idea about us. I came in the back and to be honest, as a civilian, you react before you think. He called you to make sure you were still here. To reassure himself that not all was lost.”

“How do you know this? Do you deal with this often?”

“Well, no, I deal with assassins and spies more often but… well, I can’t divulge the extent of our intelligence. I can only say that what we found sets him on par with my usual work.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer if I actually knew what was going on?” You prodded.

“No, trust me. You know what you need to.” He said staunchly.

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and shrugged. “You want a coffee?”

“If you’re making some,” he rubbed his nose as he watched you cross the room, “I’ll leave before you but… I’ll be around.”

“Like last night?” You challenged.

“That’s on me. I shouldn’t have been so careless but the next time he calls, you won’t be alone.”

“Apparently I haven’t been for a while,” you said. “If he has my number, what else does he have?”

“Think about what you have. You have me and the whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. behind you,” he reproached. “And let me tell you, when I’m given a mission, I complete it.”

“I want to believe you,” you said as you took out the canister of coffee, “I really do.”

👁️

You were distracted on your way to work. The voice lingered in your head, the words. The necklace bouncing over the collar of your coat was barely a comfort. What would Bucky do if the killer appeared right then? Could he get to your fast enough? He said he’d be close, watching, but was he closer than your stalker?

You picked a ball of lint from your glove as you ran up the station steps and onto the street. Once you were at work you could forget. You’d be surrounded by people; co-workers, clients, and the occasional messenger. For once, the ringing phone welcomed you. You knew what awaited you on the other end; an appointment to be made or a transfer to another part of the office. Simple.

Your boss, Mr. Drousseau, was often first to the office. He was unlocking the door as you rounded the corner. He cradled a vase of flowers against him, his briefcase clutched in his hand, as he twisted the key and tried to open the door with his other arm. You rushed forward as the door threatened to fall shut again.

“Here,” you grabbed the door and he blinked at you in surprise. “I got it.”

He grunted and wrenched his key out before stepping inside. You followed as he crossed to your desk and plunked the vase down. He flicked a petal from his shoulder as he turned back to you.

“What are those?” You looked at the long-stemmed tulips; out of season and no doubt expensive. “Is your wife--?”

“Some carrier just handed them off,” He set his briefcase on a chair in the waiting area and took off his long jacket. “They’ve got your name on them?”

“What?” You neared the desk and took the card. Your name was scrawled in slanted letters on the front. You placed your bag beside the vase and carefully opened the card. “I don’t know who--”

You almost dropped the cardstock but instead closed it again. Your cheek twitched as you looked up at Drousseau and tapped the card with your fingernail. 

“A surprise from my father,” you lied. “He lives so far away…”

“Mmm,” Drousseau nodded as he hung his jacket. “Well, next time, tell him to have them sent to you directly.”

“Sure. Yeah, sorry,” you kept the card between two fingers as you unzipped your coat. “I’ll send you a copy of today’s roster.”

He grumbled as he grabbed his briefcase and jingled his keys as he went to his office door. He paused as he unlocked the door. “Coffee.” He said. “Espresso if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

You smiled at his back and let out a sigh only when his door closed behind him. He saw you as a glorified barista and didn’t seem to realise that you organised the chaos of his own success. Without you, he wouldn’t know which way was up. Well, he might learn that soon enough.

You slipped out of your coat and hung it. You pinched the card and shuddered as you carefully opened it again. There were no words on the inside. Only a stark, red splotch. You ran your thumb over it and the edge flaked away. It couldn’t be… blood. 

But what else would it be? Who else would send them?

You closed the card and crumpled it in your hand. Panic squeezed your heart and you raced to the paper shredder hidden behind the copier. You flicked the switch and fed the card into the machine. The grind of the blade echoed your stomach. You hadn’t eaten that morning; you couldn’t.

You looked down at the flower dangling from your neck. You spoke to it quietly. “He sent flowers,” you felt crazy, like you were talking to yourself, “What does that mean?”

Your phone vibe in your bag on the desk and you stepped past your chair. You fished around for your cell and pulled it out.

‘It means he’s trying to scare you,’ Bucky’s text flashed across the screen, quickly followed by another. ‘Don’t let him. I’m here.’

You shook your hand and didn’t reply. You put your phone face down on your desk and touched your temples. You weren’t sure that anyone, even Bucky, could keep you safe.

👁️

It was only the flowers that day. You spent much of your working hours watching the door. You watched over your shoulder on your way home, convinced that every fellow pedestrian and passenger was a monster. When you got to your apartment, you locked the door and checked every inch of your apartment. 

As you paced, your phone shook. You stared at it until it stilled and then it began again. You answered it shakily and let out a long breath as Bucky’s voice rose from the speaker.

“You’re not responding to me. You can’t do that. I need to make certain you’re safe at all times. That’s my job. You understand?” He chided.

“You have the bug, don’t you? You can hear everything.” You sat and fidgeted on the couch. “And you’re close. You’d know if anyone… if anyone…”

“Yes, but you’re cooperation only helps, alright?” He said. “I know you’re scared but right now he’s just playing games. He’s trying to make you do something stupid so don’t do that. You’re doing exactly what he wants; you’re panicking.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you hissed, “That’s the point.”

“Go to your window. The one away from the street in your bedroom.” He said.

“What?”

“Just do it and look up a few floors.”

You sniffed and stood up. You went to your room and rounded the bed. You pulled aside the curtain and searched the brick building just across the alley. A small glint came through a window only three floors up. You heard a tap on the other end; the sound of metal on glass.

“See. I’m close. You’re safe. He won’t get any closer than me. I promise.” He said.

“Oh, uh,” you stepped back from the window. “Okay. I… thank you.”

“It’s my job,” he said, “And yours is to get some rest. You’re no good exhausted. That’s what he wants.”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

The line clicked and you sat on the foot of your bed. You dropped your phone to the mattress and took a breath. You got up slowly and went to the bathroom. You closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. You unclasped the necklace and hung it from the cabinet handle to keep from losing it. You undressed blindly and let your clothes heap on the floor.

The rings of the shower curtain chimed as you pulled it open and placed the stopper in the drain. You turned the faucet until it steam and stepped into the rising flood. You stretched before you lowered yourself down into the tub. Your stiff muscles loosened and you felt the day float away.

Just a moment of peace before it would all come back. Just a moment to yourself.

👁️

The next morning was unusually sunny though the night had been little different. Despite your fatigue, sleep was still elusive. Even when you did manage to dose, it was shallow and unsatisfying. You woke with a weight in the back of your head and finished two cups of coffee before you readied for your last day of work before the weekend.

The tulips remained on your desk. You’d forgotten about them even with the stream of compliments on the bouquet. You’d offered it to several coworkers but had met only with polite refusal. You sat and set yourself up as Drousseau shuffled around in his office. 

Your first call of the day was easy enough. One of Drousseau’s oldest clients needed to be patched through. You hit transfer but before you could put the phone down, it rang again. You hit answer and gave your usual greeting.

“You like the flowers?” The same, eerie voice as two nights before. “They made me think of you.”

“What?” You breathed as you pushed yourself away from the desk and your chair rolled back until the spiral cord was taut. “What do you--”

“You’re not the rose type. You’re so sweet. So pure, baby girl.” He continued as your stomach plummeted. You looked around at the flurry of activity around you; the whir of the copier, the clacking of keys, the quiet chatter of employees. It was surreal. “Someone like you in a world like this is made to be used.”

“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m at work. You can’t call here--” Your cell vibed beside your keyboard as you tried to keep your voice down.

“I can do whatever I want, baby girl. I have done everything I want when I want… except you… no, you need to wait. It has to be the right way.” He snarled. “Yes, soon. You will be ready soon.”

“Please--”

The line went dead as your cell began to buzz incessantly. You slammed down the receiver and grabbed your mobile as it shook. You stood and looked around. No one seemed to notice your distress. You stormed off to the restroom and closed yourself in. You slid your finger across the screen and held it to your ear.

“Bucky?” You croaked.

“It’s me.” He confirmed. “You alright? That him?”

“Y-yes,” you trembled as you braced the sink. “He said… he said soon. Bucky, he’s going to kill me. I know it.”

“Shhhh, please, take a breath.” He coaxed. “And count, like I showed you.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you whined. “Please, I can’t do this.”

“Breathe,” he ordered, “One…” He began to count as you stared in the mirror. You nodded in time until your breaths evened out and you huffed into the phone. “Good, good. Now, you have to act like everything is alright. Stay at work. You’re safe there.”

“And… after?”

“You know I’ll be there. I already am, alright? I know everyone who walks through that door, honey. You trust me?”

Your lashes fluttered and you let go of the sink. ‘Honey.’ Your mind lingered on that word but you quickly shrugged it off.

“I do,” you said, “You’ll protect me.”

“I will,” he assured you. “This creep is no match for me.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, “Okay. I’m alright. I gotta go back.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be here.”

👁️

When work was done, you didn’t go directly to the subway. You needed to sleep and you needed to forget. There was one way to do both; alcohol. Just down the block was a liquor store. You’d grab a bottle of wine and be on your way. A brief detour before you could hide once more in your boxlike apartment.

You crossed the street and a figure caught in the corner of your eye. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone as you turned down the sidewalk. You held up the cell and angled it so you could see the reflection over your shoulder. There was a man a few feet behind; he was tall but walking slowly with his head down, a hood casting shadows over his face. You slowly lowered your phone and squeezed until you thought it would break.

You neared the door of the shop. You knew he was still there. You dipped through the door and the chirp of the sensor made your flinch. You quickly flitted to the back aisle of scotch and whiskey and peered back to the front. The man in the hoodie passed the window but peered back at you as he did.

“A man,” you pulled out the necklace from beneath your jacket, “There’s a man following me. I saw him.”

Your phone quaked and you dropped the necklace. You fumbled with your cell and pretended to browse the aged malts. 

“I see him but I can’t see his face.” Bucky said. 

“I didn’t either. What do I do?”

“Stay calm. What are you even doing?”

“I was… gonna get some wine.” You went to the aisle of imports and scanned the shelves. “That’s all.”

“Well, get whatever and go home. Don’t worry about this creep. I’ll deal with him.” Bucky said. “He’s probably not even our guy, just another dirtbag.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just buy your wine and get to the train.” He hung up bluntly and you sighed.

You grabbed a cabernet and went to the counter. You paid and hid the bottle in your bucket bag. You reluctantly pushed through the door and swiftly turned down the street. The man was behind you. You checked again with your phone, this time with your camera on. You snapped a pic over your shoulder and quickly tucked it into your sleeve.

You looked up and saw another hooded man heading towards you. You almost tripped as he passed you and recognized Bucky’s short stubble poking out. You didn’t stop as a commotion rose behind you.

“Watch it,” Bucky growled. No response and you ran across the street. 

You hurried on and stopped at the corner to look back. Bucky stood with arms crossed against the front of a convenience store and the other man was gone. He nodded and pushed himself away from the chipped brick. You turned back and raced to the subway.

Home, home, home. Just get home.

👁️

Your apartment was already dark when you got home. The days grew shorter and shorter as the winter threatened to storm down on the city. You plopped your bottle of wine on the counter and kicked off your shoes. You hung your bag and coat from the rack and checked your phone.

‘Text when home.’ Bucky’s message seared into your vision.

You sent your response and uncorked the bottle. You poured yourself a glass and carried it to the living room with your cell. You left them on the coffee table as you went to change. You dumped your blouse, skirt, and thick stockings into the hamper along with your bra and panties. You took the necklace off and set it on your night table.

You pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and an old tee. You scooped up the necklace and took it with you into the front room. You hung it from the lamp beside the couch and took a gulp of wine as you searched for something to watch. The alcohol burned your hungry stomach.

A knock came at the door and you nearly choked as you set your glass down. You peered through the hole. It was Bucky. You unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“What are you doing here?”

“That was pretty creepy,” he said as he stepped past you without welcome. “Wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve cased the entire building. Didn’t see him around.”

“You think he would’ve followed me here? You said it was likely not him.”

“Maybe not but the guy was leery enough to follow you to the store,” Bucky went to the window and looked out. “You need to tell me when you change your plans.”

“Sorry, I-- It wasn’t far so I thought--”

“If you’re as scared as you’re acting, you’ll get your shit together and listen to me.” He closed the blinds. “You take a detour like that and that’s trouble for both of us.”

He rounded the armchair and neared the coffee table. He ran a metal finger around the rim of your glass. “Hope it was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, “I didn’t mean to--”

“You need something, you tell me. I’ll take care of it.” He interrupted. “You go anywhere, you clear it with me. We’re not fucking around anymore.”

“Bucky, I…” you pouted. “I didn’t--”

“Look, I’m not mad but I have to be strict. We don’t have room for mistakes.” He neared you and his face softened. “It’s for your own good, honey.”

You stared at him and reached to the collar of his jacket. He unzipped it and backed away to hang it over your own. You frowned.

“I already sent in an incident report. The Director said I should keep close watch tonight. Just in case.”

“Oh,” you watched him unlace his boots. “I… Okay?”

“I don’t mean to crowd you but better safe than sorry.” He stood.

“Right,” you sidled past him, “You want any wine?”

“Nah,” he waved you off, “Stuff doesn’t really do anything for me.”

You nodded and went back to the couch. You sat and hit continue watching. You picked at your fingernail anxiously. Bucky sat on the other side of the couch and groaned. He stretched his fingers and they cracked loudly.

“You hungry? I can order something? I don’t feel much like cooking.” You offered.

“If you’re hungry,” he shrugged. “You must be.”

You played with your phone and set it down to take another drink. “You like Chinese?”

“Sure,” he said, “Whatever you want, honey.”

You grabbed your phone and tried to hide your discomfort. Were you just rattled from the hooded creep? Paranoid because your life had turned into a murder mystery? Or was this man crossing a line?

You opened up the app and scrolled to the meal for two. You confirmed the order and put your phone on the arm of the couch. “About half an hour,” you said.

You looked over as Bucky reached up to the lamp and played with the necklace. He slowly retracted his hand and chuckled.

“You know, you talk in your sleep,” he chuckled. “Necklace picks it up sometimes.”

“I do?” You wondered.

“Nothing really. Doesn’t really make sense.” He smirked. “But… it’s kinda funny.”

“Oh,” you sat back. You wanted another mouthful of wine but you were already almost done your first glass. “Weird.”

You crossed your arms and looked at the television. Everything was weird. The murders, your stalker, and even this man they sent to protect you. It was all just a little off and that scared you even more.

👁️

When the food arrived, Bucky got up to answer the door. You ate at the coffee table and finished your second glass of wine. The alcohol helped your appetite and for the first time in days, you managed to eat more than a few bites. Bucky didn’t need any help as he threw back fried rice and back ribs.

You cleaned up after and tossed the containers in the trash. You were a little tipsy as you flopped onto the couch and rated your meal on the app. Bucky filled your glass for you and returned the bottle to the kitchen before taking his place once more. You thanked him and took a sip.

“Thought you weren’t exactly happy about this,” you raised the glass.

“I can’t blame you. Hell, if I could get anything out of it, I’d have a glass of my own.” He mused. “So, the phone call, we need to go over what he said to you. Obviously, I couldn’t hear it.”

“Right now?” You set your glass down.

“Before I forget,” he reached into his pocket and took out his own phone. He opened up the notepad. “Doesn’t have to be exact.”

“He didn’t say… much…” You began and you regretted the two glasses of wine. “He said I… I was pure… and that…” Your cheeks burned and you felt the flutter of nerves, “He wants to use me and…” You swallowed as your lips quivered, “He said soon. That he would do something soon.”

You grabbed your wine and drank deeply. 

“That’s all. That’s all he said.” You put the glass down and held your head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re doing all you can,” his hand settled gently on your back and you winced. He rubbed lightly as he shifted closer and placed his phone on the table. “And you got me.”

“Yeah, but I-- I don’t know if you can stop him.” You looked at him as tears blurred your vision. “And I don’t know what I did to make him do all this. He’s killed others because of me and… And how am I supposed to live with that?”

“He did that, not you,” Bucky insisted, “It’s not your fault--”

Your phone slipped from the arm of the couch suddenly as it vibrated. Bucky’s hand dropped away as you took your cell. You held up the flashing screen. There was no number, not even ‘Private’ or ‘Unknown’. Just the two icons; answer or ignore.

You hovered your thumb over the latter and Bucky stopped you. He shook his head as you looked at him. “Answer it.”

You grimaced and he let you go. He moved away from you and you hesitated. You hit answer and the screen lit up. It was a video call. You saw a white ceiling and heard the muffled sobbing of a woman. Goosebumps rose on your skin as the camera moved erratically and the colours blurred together and cleared to form the image of a woman’s face.

She had a gag in her mouth, tied in place by a black piece of fabric. Tears stained her cheeks as she squirmed. 

“Baby girl,” the voice spoke from offscreen as a gloved hand appeared holding a knife. It dragged the edge down the woman’s cheek as she squealed. “She’s nothing. Nothing compared to you.”

You were frozen, weighed down with dread and fear as you sat gaping at the screen.

“I’ll show you…” He turned the knife. “Show you that she can never be you. That there is only you.”

The hand moved so fast and drew a sudden line of red across the woman’s throat. The cut gushed as the woman choked on the gag and her own blood. The sickening noise of her death filled your ears and the man moaned your name. The screen went black and you dropped your phone.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as you shook violently and the alcohol bubbled in your stomach, “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

You stood dizzily and fell back on the couch. Bucky touched your arm and you pulled away as you bent over the side of the couch at the sudden revolt inside of you. You wretched onto the hardwood as tears spilled from your eyes. Your body contracted as you were overwhelmed in fear and revulsion.

“Oh my god,” you cried, “Oh my god…” 

Bucky pulled you back to him and stretched his arm over your shoulders. He hushed you as he hugged you to him and rocked you back and forth.

“You’re okay, honey. There was nothing you could do,” he said, “Shh, calm down. Breathe…” He caressed your head as he held you, “Just breathe. I’m here.”

[interstellarflowers]

Professor Parker Ch. 1| Professor, Peter Parker x Student, Reader

a/n this fic doesn’t follow the marvel cinematic universe but assume that peter has been what he’s been through with the exception that tony lived, and bruce is still bruce, sorry but i just can't deal with endgame hulk/bruce rn emotionally or mentally. im sorry nat is still dead but dw i'll actually treat it with respect unlike endgame like goddamn where was her funeral, am i right? the stages of grief thing they did was interesting though. im sorry i digress, this is set in nyc (because heyo im a new yorka) and the avengers/stark tower is still a thing, peter is fucking traumatized and has turned kind of cold as a result. this fic may contain a smut chapter in the future? not sure yet, where this fic goes depends on the feedback, thanks for reading also sorry im not the proudest of this first chapter so ill probably edit it but promise itll only improve from here just not in the best mental state rn

University life wasn’t exactly everything that you imagined it to be. There was hardly time to do anything that people claimed was good about coming to university. The parties, the epic heartbreaks, and romances, they were just nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing particularly extravagant about your experience thus far. You went to class, studied, and went to your internship. Your internship was probably the most exciting thing about your life at the moment, you were lucky to be accepted into the Stark Industries student internship, the company paid college tuition and only required around twenty hours of lab work a week, you couldn’t complain. Of course, the exciting part of the whole ordeal was the name attached to it, “Stark,” not that you had ever met him, but it was nice to have a unique feature like that in such an impressive student body.

So here you were on the first day of your third year of university. You lived off-campus, about a five-minute walk from the Stark Tower, but a twenty-minute subway ride to your campus. However, having an 882 square foot space to yourself was really nothing you could truly complain about despite the distance. The studio apartment being yet another benefit reaped from Stark Industries. Thank you Tony Stark, the unseen benevolent God in your life.

Typically you would start your mornings off quietly and in no rush, a shower, a cup of coffee, maybe some studying before heading off to your campus, but your phone had other plans for you today. Instead of your alarm going off like it was supposed to, you were woken up by the sound of a particularly loud car horn, and oh how grateful you were for that. As soon as you were jolted awake you shifted to grab your phone and turned it over to see an alarming 8:40am glaring back at you.

Holy shit. You were late.

You scrambled out of bed nearly face planting several times in your hurry to get dressed and only barely ran out the door with everything you needed at 8:47am.

By the time you managed to get to the subway and clamor onto the right train it was already 8:55am. Out of breath and panicking, you considered your options. You could explain after class, you could shoot an email, there were a plethora of things you could do but none of them seemed to justify being late as a third-year to a level 500 class. You had googled all of your professors while registering for classes as was common practice. You couldn’t find a RateMyProfessor on Professor...Parker? You were pretty sure it was Professor Parker, but you do remember seeing on the STEM department page that he was currently a Ph.D. student, so you could only hope that as a fellow student he would be at least a little understanding towards your lateness.

You stood outside of the lecture hall huffing and trying to catch your breath at 9:32am, psyching yourself up, you pushed open the door to the class and attempted to go unnoticed. The class was in a lecture hall despite being only composed of around thirty students, so if you were lucky maybe nobody would even see-

“Ms.(y/l/n), I presume?.” Shit.

“Professor Parker?” Shit.

“You are aware that class starts at 9am, and not 9:30am, would this be correct Ms.(y/l/n)?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s just that I had an emergency.” The lying route. Not exactly the highlight of your academic career.

“I regret to inform you that I only take valid excuses Ms.(y/l/n), please take a seat, and next time, don’t bother disrupting class halfway through the lesson.” Fuck. You mustered a quiet “ok,” and a small nod before escorting yourself to the back of the room, thirty-something eyes following you until you sat down.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, it was just too embarrassing, time moved forward but you couldn’t help but be stuck on what had just happened. For the first ten minutes after sitting down you felt like dropping out of the whole class out of sheer fucking humiliation. This was of course before you reminded yourself that this class was a requirement to graduate in your field of study. You quietly bargained with yourself before sighing quietly and settling on the conclusion that Professor Parker was just a dick. A dick who certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of you switching out of his class. If he wanted to be like that, you decided, you would simply return the favor.

“I know, Ms.(y/ln), why don’t you tell us DeBroglie’s equation?”

“With pleasure, Professor Parker.” Yeah, you’d return the favor alright.

“Ms.(y/l/n), you stay.” Fuck that. You looked the other way and feigned ignorance as you kept making your way towards the door. About to leave, the door shut on your face.

“What the fuck!” You jumped before turning around and you felt your face heat up.

“Ms.(y/l/n), please refrain from using profanities in my classroom.”

“I’m sorry Professor Parker. I was just startled.”

“Mhm,” he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, “Just don’t do it in the future Ms.(y/l/n).”

“Of course. My name is (y/n), by the way, Professor Parker, you can just call me that, actually, I prefer that people refer to me by (y/n).”

“Rest assured, I’m aware of your name, Ms.(y/l/n). My name is Peter, but you can continue to call me Professor Parker.” You could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew what he was fucking doing, asshole. You held back from rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Of course, Professor Parker.”

“As you know, Ms.(y/l/n), I did request that you stay after class.”

“Oh? I sincerely apologize Professor Parker, I really didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sure, Ms.(y/l/n).” Fucking. Dick.

“Well, what exactly did you want Professor Parker? I do have another class soon.” Professor Parker narrowed his eyes at you in obvious distaste before reaching behind himself into a bin underneath his desk and pulling out a stack of papers,

“These are the handouts you missed from the beginning of the class. Textbook requirements, syllabus...Crucial information to have if you care to succeed in my class Ms.(y/l/n).” So coldly, so maliciously, Professor Parker placed the stack into your arms.

“I take my work very seriously, Ms.(y/l/n), I do my part as your professor so I only have the simple request that my students do the same.” You nodded feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course, Professor Parker, it won’t happen again,” you said with a tightlipped smile.

“Mhm,” Professor Parker turned around and began shuffling around some paper and without giving you a second glance said, “You are dismissed.” You nodded and hurriedly made your way out of his classroom. Of course, you had lied. You didn’t have another class until late in the afternoon. So you called your coworker instead,

“Hey, Harvey.”

“(y/n).”

“Wow, okay, don’t get too excited.”

“Sorry, just woke up.”

“Tsk, the early bird gets the worm, Harvey.”

“I don’t want a worm.”

“Fuck you. I’m headed to the lab, can I expect you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You had been working with Harvey for around four years now, he was quite the impressive specimen, having attended MIT and graduating Summa Cum Laude at age 20 was no easy feat, he was closer to Tony Stark than you would ever get, he was quite personable, and you couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking. You’d never tell him that though, he didn’t need another ego boost. Besides, you had some connections of your own.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Banner!”

“Can we expect Harvey today?”

“Honestly, not sure.” You both knowingly smiled at each other before you made your way over to what he was working on,

“Do you ever get bored here?”

“With you and the other idiot always running around? How could I?” You laughed,

“No, seriously, like wouldn’t you rather be doing nerd shit with Tony or something? Isn’t it a little tiresome babysitting us?”

“Tiring? Maybe sometimes, but not nearly as tiring as doing ‘nerd shit’ with Tony. He’s exhausting,” Bruce smiled at his own joke, “I don’t mind playing babysitter at all kid.” He fiddled with the handle of a mug that read, “Don’t be so Na Cl,” which you had gotten him a year back as a joke, but he still used it.

You really loved Bruce for all he was. Since losing your family back in 2012 during the battle in NYC, you didn’t really have any familial figures. But since landing this internship you found yourself with a parental figure again, and you would never be able to put into words how much it meant to you, so you didn’t. Besides, you didn’t want him to feel pressured about it, especially after everything he had been through himself. Frying half your body and losing the love of your life in such a short span of time was really nothing less than horrifying. Yet, here he was, smiling, laughing...You loved him for it.

“First day of junior year? How was that?”

“Shit.”

“Huh?” Bruce stopped tinkering with the device in his hands and looked over at you, “I’ve never heard of a course being too hard for (y/n) (y/l/n), what is it? Aerospace? Quantum?”

“No, just one giant dick.”

“Pardon-”

“My professor, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ah, I see. If he’s really harassing you (y/n), I don’t mean to overstep, I really think we should alert administration, what’s his name?” Bruce took a sip of his coffee.

“Professor Parker,” Bruce choked on his coffee, “Oh my God, Bruce, are you okay?”

“Yeah-” he said, still coughing, “Just a little too strong.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce caught his breath, “What did he do kid?”

“He’s just a dick that’s all.”

“You sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I don’t know what you could do anyways. Thank you though.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised.”

Sitting at your desk stressing over school work at 3am, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you. Everything appeared ordinary. The ordinary cup of tea, the familiar glow of your computer, and a morning chill creeping through your window. It was all so breathtakingly normal until there was a rap on your window. You took an earbud out of your ear, certain you were just hearing things, you looked to your window. Holy shit.

You opened your window wide so that he could crawl in.

“(y/n)?”

“Mr.Spiderman.” Still too in shock to fully process the situation you started to take in the scene in front of you,

“Please, it’s just Spiderman.”

“Oh-Oh my God, what happened?” Head to toe the suit seemed to have blood seeping through, tears in the body of the suit revealed gashes and a bullet wound.

“Bad guys. I know this guy-said he knew a medical student close by, you are (y/n)? Right?”

“Y-Yeah, but I’m really just a student, I’m not really a prof-”

“This guy, he said you might as well be.”

“I don’t know Mr.Spiderman, really, maybe I could take you to the hospital though.”

“-Spiderman, it’s just Spiderman, listen, (y/n), you know I can’t go to a hospital, it would ruin this whole secret identity thing I got going on here, and this guy, he’s probably the smartest guy I know, so if he says you can handle it, you can.” You swallowed and nodded,

“Yeah-” you wring your hands together, “Yeah-Sorry, let me go get my first aid kit.”

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

[organdon3r]

The ink demonth: EVERY. DAY. OF. THE. MONTH. :')

TW//character death, description of body (skeleton), (unspecified) character vomiting

Characters: Sammy Lawrence, Joey Drew, Jack Fain, Norman Polk, Thomas Conner, Shawn Flynn, Alice Angel/Susie, unspecified employees

Mentioned characters: Henry, Susie, Buddy/Daniel, Wally

Word count: 1155

Sentence count: 25

Character count: 6407

Reading level: college (student)

Pride can lead to wealth, it can lead to an amazing family - an amazing life..but sometimes you're so caught up in yourself everything turns twisted, laughing at you in the face; making you watch all those happy moments tear apart on repeat like they're playing on an everlasting reel. All your friends, side by side, staring at you body whilst you're knee deep in your own mistakes.

It's funny how so much can be ruined in so little time, just like the studio. It's like survival for the fittest just a hell lot more difficult..whether you're part of a colossal wonder, or your face is a mystery to many, you are never truly safe..those who died always rise though, that's when their true personalities shine through the veil they wore.

"We've all been waiting, the battle may well have been messy, but trust me..for the smoke that has held us back this far has been taken away..today is the day!"

A figure stood up on the box, a mask hiding his face whilst multiple black creatures - made of ink - surrounded him

"The only god that will be appeased today is my lord..the one who will set us free.."

Let's go back about 30 years, Heavenly toys. Shawn Flynn sat at a stool, a doll of Alice Angel in his hand and a paintbrush in the other.

"Y'see, I don't see the point in these Alice Angel whatchamacallits! Yes she's a nice character, that's all I'll say positive, but they ain't sellin'!"

His Irish accent rang about the room

"It's like we're in this stupid play of Joey's! Trapped inside of a glass box whilst he watches!-..uh..y..yeah?.."

Shawn froze, his own heartbeat was what he thought his ears heard..but it wasn't. That man knew his own beat from the rest, and that wasn't his..a shiver went up his spine as he was almost in a trance; walking towards the room, which was built for Alice Angel, Flynn opened the door and gasped: in the centre of the room was the skeletal body of Alice - her matted black hair covering her face. She hummed a tune which played as soon as the female character was created and voiced.

"A- Alice! You're lookin'..pretty today-..u- uh Alice-?..Aaalic- OH MY GOD!!-"

Shawn screamed as the skeletal, twisted, angel lunged at him - the door slammed shut alerting fellow GENT worker Thomas Conner and a bunch of other Toy department employees. Tom let out a huff as he pushed past the crowd of people, all thinking this place was haunted - I mean, they weren't wrong! As the door creaked open on the floor was the body of Shawn Flynn, ink mixed with blood dripping off of the wall next to the door and the worker's heart missing out of his chest; his eyes lifeless, like his soul had been sucked out of his body. There was an array of mutters, people vomiting and some even ran away in fear; there was the few who stayed quiet and stared whilst the rest started to cry out of shock.

"What kind of sinner would do this!?"

An employee cried out, covering their mouth whilst Thomas stepped into the room - cautiously looking around incase the murderer was still present. Nobody was there..that was until there was a quiet giggle behind the glass - the light turned on as a voice, starting off it was angelic and beautiful.

"I just want to be a beautiful angel…I want to make it to heaven….but..the things I've done aren't redeemable…yet it's all worth it..for beauty!"

The voice, once again, laughed - it danced around the room; hitting all those near. There was an electrical crackle as the power turned out; then the sound of a vent slamming open..and then a scream, the voice similar to Thomas'..and it was: his body flew into the wall, thudding against it. Before the attacker could do anything the lights flickered back on as Joey Drew, the great dreamer, stood in the doorway; at that point everyone finally felt somewhat safe in the light.

Word about the death and attack spread around the studio fast - people trying to work out who the voice belonged to and why they would do it, some thought of Susie but she was too sweet for that!

"WALLACE..FRANKS."

A voice yelled out - bursting out of his office, half covering in ink, his blonde hair now stained black.

The Projectionist, Norman Polk, leant against the border in his projector booth - watching his coworker storm in, throwing his papers on the composing stand

"Pipe burst again Samuel?"

He asked, chuckling at the male who glared at him

"Listen, Lawrence, I'd be careful around Mr Drew - I heard he's been spreading some lies 'bout this being a ^safe haven^ for all employees.."

Sammy rolled his eyes, responding in a snarky tone

"Yeah yeah Norman, I know you think you see the 'full picture' but you don't know the true image..anyways I'm heading into the sewers to get some of these papers to Jack..seeing as Joey's gopher has lost his footing and gotten lost somewhere I have to manage more jobs.."

The man walked off, walking past the surprisingly empty Infirmary and into the sewers. The ink went up to his knees like mud - reaching his musical partner's desk he tapped Jack on the shoulder. The male jumped a little, looking back at Sammy and smiling:

"Oh! Sam! Hey are those for me..? I could've just gotten them myself: I just finished my papers!"

His voice was optimistic and vibrant, poor thing didn't even know what was happening - so Sammy decided to hint at being a little more cautious than he was already

"Listen..Jack, um, if I were you I wouldn't talk to Joey for awhile..just give me the papers… trust me.."

The music director muttered in his friend's ear who, looked completely confused but, nodded

"Yeah, okay Sam, whatever ya say pal!..eh, seeing as you offered I got these to take to Bossman - mind if you-?"

Samuel smiled, but didn't answer, instead he took the papers - no questions asked.

Getting out of the sewers he struggled to do yet trying to get to Joey's office was more of a struggle: the administration office is a maze and of course Mr Drew's had to be in the heart of it! By the time Lawrence had made it he was exhausted, still he opened the door - straightening himself up

"Hhh..Mr...Drew?"

He looked around the office, before bumping into Joey who shoved a book into his hands; the music director stumbled back, shifting the papers to one hand and putting the book in his other

"Sir..what is this..?"

Joey laughed - taking the papers from Sammy, each page noting on each employee. Himself, Joey, Henry, Buddy, Susie…it went on and on!

"THAT, my dear Lawrence…is the illusion of living

AAAAHHH

Two days this took (surprisingly)

But I'm proud of it!

Yes, there's a lot of moving around but I'm happy!

(Ink demonth hosted by @halfusek)

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.19

a/n: so... uhh... nothing much happens here but the last part is worth it :’) i guess? hope ya’ll like this nonetheless! 

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 20

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Two days since that fated encounter with Chronostasis, you were now left with a vacant rest day. And where better place to spend it than with Dr. Hanayaka. Setting an appointment with him, as he liked to call it, you were tasked to help with the blood pressure for each patient he had. Luckily, his schedule wasn’t that straining.

“So you mean to say, his henchman met with you in secret?” Gei asked and raised an eyebrow. With his stethoscope resting on his shoulder and white coat on, it was sometimes hard to believe that this flamboyant man was a well respected doctor. “And handed you trash man’s sim card?”

“Yeah. I’ve already checked the contents of the sim and there’s not a lot to go on.” Aside from your messages, the contents of his inbox were that of an average man’s. Expecting some tea about his trade or even important numbers of other villains, you had to think whether or not Chrono deleted some or not.

“And what about that plan of yours, hmm?” Gei fixed his eyelashes before staring back at you. “What if it backfires and Chrono takes the blame?”

“He won’t. My instructions were clear and I set a time frame as well. Just something to please the heroes for setting me up.”

“You movin over to the dark side, baby girl?”

“Just balancing things out.” You shrugged. “Levi made it clear that they shouldn’t interfere with my relationship with Overhaul. Even though I’m on justice’s side, I still want to tip the scales a bit due to personal reasons.”

“Wouldn’t your badge and title be removed if they found out? And why in Todrick’s name are you so chill with this topic?! Are you certain you don’t have a bug on you?” Your friend eyed you down so quickly. Worried that policemen might end up barging inside his office.

“Don’t worry. I’m wearing new clothes so there’s no way they can. Besides, I’m being as cautious as ever. Seriousness aside, I do have some information you might want to feast on.” You smirked at the mental image of a maskless Chrono.

“Spill…” Gei shifted in his seat and leaned in closer. The look on your face only meant one thing.

“Okay, so Overhaul’s right hand man was the one who met me right? Well~ He took off his mask and I will have to admit the man looked hella fine~”

“Describe! Describe!”

“For starters, he has bluish-gray eyes. Though he looks like he wants to kill a person right there and then, he probably could since his jaw was rather prominent. His voice without the mask is different too.” You watched as Gei listened with such focus. “But, if I were to be honest, describing him doesn’t do him good. He looks really handsome.”

“Why is it always the villains who look good?” Gei commented with a pout. “Hawks aside, because that man is something else, but they just hit different you know?”

“That’s true. Shame they have to wear those masks, though.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s good that they do. Otherwise they’d have to endure the wrath of fan girls.”

“Right. Also feels good when they trust you enough to show what’s behind the mask.” Nodding at your own statement, the memory of having lunch with Overhaul came back. With no given warning, he took off his mask and casually drank water. Realizing that he had done it on purpose, a tiny smile formed on your mouth.

“If you miss him that bad, just call him.”

“He changed numbers and I’m not that desperate to ask Chrono for it. Nao said in due time he’ll contact me but the chances of that are negative.”

“Honey, it’s the modern era. Women aren’t as shy as they were before. If you want something, go and get it. If it is a guy’s new number, then go ahead. It’s not just men who make the first move. And besides, I think Overhoe would be surprised if you just suddenly ring his doorbell.”

“You do realize, I do not have the same confidence as you.”

“Fake it till you make it, boo.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.

“You’ve been watching Soopernatural again, haven’t you?”

“Okay, first off, Jenred Padackles is a god and I would worship his feet. Second, that show has references to everything and you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Standing up from the sofa, you stretched your limbs. “Anyway, I gotta scram.”

“Where you headin’ off to missy?”

“I have to meet up with Nao regarding the Fukuo Kai case.”

“But it’s your day off. Get a life and do something else other than work, (n/n).” Gei threw a pen to your direction but you dodged it effortlessly. “Don’t make me tell your father.”

“It’s only for a few minutes. It’s in preparation for tomorrow.” Not bothering to wait, you exited the room and sofly closed the doors to his office. Time spent with Gei was always an eye opener. However, it still wasn’t enough for you to stoop so low and ring his doorbell.

Making your way out of the hospital, you took a quick stop to the vending machines and chose a cold cafe au lait. Perfect for the hot and humid weather Japan had to offer. Feeling the cold liquid running down your throat was amazing and within seconds, you downed the whole drink. Tossing the empty bottle to the recycle bin, a gust of wind caused you to lose balance.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I have a meeting to attend to Hawks.” Hawks took his visors off and ruffled his wings. Offering to buy him a drink, he chose a tetra pack of  apple juice. Walking to the vacant bench, you followed him and decided that perhaps his visit would be worth it. “So what did the bird hear today?”

“Twice and Toga Himiko.”

“League of-” Then it hit you. “I see. Since when?”

“Yesterday. One of my informants saw them entering the base and left late at night. They didn’t look too happy about it, though.” Lowering his headphones, he ruffled his hair and stared at the clear blue skies. “Do what you will with this information. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“How and why do you even bother?”

“I work for the HPSC dove. If I don’t want them getting in my head, I gotta kick their crotches first.”

“That’s not the best analogy.”

“Still works though.” He winked and put on his headphones and visors back. Standing up, he offered a hand and you accepted it. Tailing you, Hawks was now opening the door for your car. “And one more thing, another of my birdies caught the scent of the quirk erasing bullets nearing its completion stages. Probably 80% now.”

“That’s fast.” You had to admit.

“Heard he’s been pissed. Be careful baby bird.” Hawks closed your door and saluted before flying off.

80%? That was enough information to speed up the Shie Hassaikai raid. Reaching out for your bag, you took the burner phone you recently purchased and reread each message the both of you exchanged. With two League of Villains now part of the yakuza, the possibility of casualties was much higher now.

Within minutes, you were now on the road. Fingers tightly wrapping the steering wheel. Your thumb bouncing with growing guilt at choosing to hide what Hawks had just said. Of course this wasn’t to ensure his victory, it was to even the field, right? It was the pettiness taking over you and Nighteye going against his words. It had to be.

Turning towards the precinct, you saw your designated parking area. The basement parking was a bit crowded today.

Heading towards the meeting room Tsukauchi had prepared for the small info sharing, you greeted fellow coworkers and kept conversation till you disappeared around the corner. Not too long after, you were now fiddling with your fingers. Basking in the silence till the doors opened revealing your partner and Shinezu. Both men took their seats and commenced the meeting.

“So, Shinezu will be tagging along.” He nodded at your coworker who seemed to be trembling at the thought. “It’ll do you good, Shinez. Trust me.”

“I-I know, Tsukau-kun.” He adjusted his tie, loosening it a bit. “I just think I’m not cut out for this mission you know? I do better behind the scenes.”

“While I believe that’s true, the 4th division works best when you’re around.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. Shinezu may not be the most social cookie out there but his brain was close to Namase. He also had the knack of coming up with solutions when things went wrong. All he needed was to amp his social skills. “We all know the 4th division leader is weak for you.”

“Not t-true.”

“All too true. You’ll be fine, Shinez. Have I ever lied to you?”

When the raven-haired man finally nodded his head, Tsukauchi cleared his throat and relayed the plans for tomorrow. It was the standard undercover data gathering in your books.

“So, to recap, the 4th division will be handling the snooping and we’ll remain on guard should all else fail?” You repeated the information given. Tsukauchi scratched his chin and nodded. Confirming that you had fully understood his message. “All this should happen within 5 hours. Got it. That’s quite cramped but manageable.”

“5 hours was the only allotted time I could fit in.” He scratched his nape and looked away. “You were right when I had to take it slow with my cases.”

“I’m not one to comment~” Waving the conversation aside, you stood up and the others followed.

With the short meeting now over, Tsukauchi and you were now seated in the break room. Cups of coffee present as you exchanged more information about your days and current mission. For a brief moment, despite him not being a part of the Shie Hassaikai Raid, you wanted to pour every single information you had just gained from Hawks. The lingering guilt was much more present now.

“You’re spacing out.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “You alright?”

“Aside from the growing problem of trashman, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Taking a sip from your coffee, the usual taste of bitterness was strong today. “Nothing to worry about~”

“You should go home, (n/n). I already took up a portion of your time. Any more and I might drown from embarrassment.”

“That’s gross. Even coming from you.” Kicking him from under the table, the two of you laughed before chugging the remaining drops of coffee. “I will take that offer though. Need me some beauty sleep before shit happens again. See ya!”

Hours had passed and you were now stuffing your face with chips. He was right when he said you had purchased too much but you weren’t complaining. The movie playing now was one of your favorites, Prisoner. Gake Jyllenhall was divine in this movie. It was always the twist of the movie that kept you watching it over and over again.

“I wonder if we had watched this… would the wall pinning  happen?” You thought out loud. Shaking your thoughts away from him, you stopped the movie and stored the chips.

Now that you were settled in bed, Overhaul’s jacket rested on top of you. By now, his scent had disappeared and was now replaced by yours. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and clicked on a certain conversation. Rereading his messages was not the best idea but at least you would be able to relive whatever memories you had created.

Glancing at your desk calendar, in just two months time, you would meet him again. Would things still be the same? Or would things go back to the way they were? Tucking your phone under the unused pillow, you willed yourself to sleep and surprisingly succeeded.

Waking up not so refreshed happened again. But, nothing out of the ordinary. Not being a morning person, you dragged your body away from the bed and began the necessary clothes. Deciding to just buy breakfast, it took you less than an hour to lock your doors and head over to the parking lot.

Making your way up the steps, you met up with Shinezu.

“You look like shit, Shinez.” You teased him. “Take a chill pill.”

“I already did. But it’s still not working. This would be the first case in a while where I’ll interact with others.” Leading the way, the both of you were now walking through the empty hallways. The sounds of your footsteps muffled by the cheap carpeted floors. “How do you guys even manage to survive situations like these?”

“By taking it one step at a time~” Not the best advice for someone who’s socially challenged but it is what it is.

Opening the doors for you, the both of you entered the room and took your designated seats. A bunch of people from the 4th division were now present. Tsukauchi had not yet arrived but it was still early so it was excusable. Exchanging a few small talk, you caught up with what the 4th division was up to till the doors finally opened.

“Good morning everyone.” Tsukauchi greeted. Feet glued to his spot. His eyesight focused on you. “Before we head out, we have a special guest joining us.”

“Holy shit.” Shinezu uttered under his breath.

- - - - -

a/n: shits bout to go down again! I would like to take this time to thank each one of you who take the time to read this! Unpredictable was supposedly a 10 chapter story but we bout to reach 20 now! i cant really respond to your comments as much but i read all of ‘em and they always make my day :’) my schedule has just been very hectic these days huhu and yeas that ends my rant~ see ya’ll next week! :* and yes, the waiting list is still open :)

[florosasimpre]

Here We Go

TW: Assault

Yes, I graduated, but I delayed posting any type of photos at this point because I didn’t want to [insert some inspirational quote here] like I’ve done everything else. Truth is, College was entirely easy as hell. The academia aspect was nothing a little discipline couldn’t get me through. Now I had classes where I wanted my one with the professor, but other than that, being intelligent was never an issue in college. The one thing that made me want to quit, the one thing that made me want to leave was the background fillers. No one ever talks about college and the background filler. I got so many stories saying college was the best time of their life, classes were hard, etc. no one mentions the journey of mental rise and fall. So I won’t post these photos, with a temporary filled smile, due to the graduation high that finally came, but I’m going to spill the truth that we forget to disclose.

From the moment I got accepted into Clark Atlanta University, it was a test.

1. I arrived to the university believing I was on a military scholarship

2. After discovering I was not on scholarship l, I spent every day in the financial aid office for 2 weeks until they enrolled me financially

3. I lost my best friend because we realized we were too different and set in our ways to try to salvage anything

4. The military told me I was too fat for my height and to kill two birds with one stone - I should pursue my dream of being a Marine and switch to that option, “because they don’t care so much about your weight”

5. I was ill-advised by an instructor who didn’t want me in the ROTC program in the first place because I didn’t arrive on scholarship

6. I separated from a long-term boyfriend that been with me through many life changes and developments

7. I had changed my major after sophomore year and went through a whole identity crisis- I then selected Psychology to be my path

8. Through out ROTC I was exercising on a torn ACL, unbeknownst to me, but my injury was always minimized or made to see like I was lying

9. My weight in ROTC was the consortium common knowledge and often people would ask me, “ how is the weight loss going”

10. I was removed from the ROTC program by not reaching BMI weight goals. I was to be 140 pounds- I was 165 - y’all I ain’t been that since like middle school lol

11. To release steam from being kicked out of ROTC and having a huge sense of my belonging snatch from me, I drunk a few drinks, only to be sexually Assaulted by someone I called my friend 2018 Labor Day weekend

12. Someone else I use to call a friend facilitated a fantasy where my survivor story became about them and perpetuated lies and rumors because they had feelings for the boy who assaulted me

13. now my sexual assault story is the Unit Shame that they still talk about to this day because majority of the battalion remained friends or endorsed the boy who assaulted me

14. I had a toxic workplace environment because the boy who assaulted me and the friend that spread lies were working with me and the manager had knowledge of said information and did nothing to accommodate anyone

15. The manager of said workplace was unprofessional and had inappropriate relationships with student’s- particularly fraternization

16. While that was happening at Morehouse College, the lies from my assault reached my own institution and I had residents - I was a RA, call me a whore and slut because of the rumors from my assault

17. One of my fellow “RAs” gossiped with the residents and aided in the misinformation where I lived and let the residents do what they wanted- making it harder for my coworkers and I to enforce rules

18. Because of they free will the residents had received from said RA, when it was not reciprocated amongst all RAs i was threatened with notes slid under my door in my residence building, and my property was destroyed

19. With all the mental jabs, I stopped going to class and my mother was .2 seconds from withdrawing me from the institution because she could tell she was losing me

20. I started dating again, but with sexual trauma and “an idea of standards” from my last relationship- I was disappointed 6x over - some people just foul, smh

21. I lost friends that I thought had my back, but only talked behind it. Ive consoled others through attempted suicides, a shooting, losing parents, their personal battles with sexual assault and other struggles that come with being a RA and a student

22. My senior year, research developments, and a trip to EGYPT! Was cancelled due to covid 19

So what pulled me through? It was a moment my junior year and that moment forward that I decided I was going to finish my journey. One thing about being a psych major is: you gone talk about trauma. You gone talk about it a lot. In talking about it, I realized that I was NOT the only person going through these things. The fact that a lot of young black men and women were experiencing the same things were tragic, but we related to each other and with the help of the professors and each other, I began to heal.

Although healing is not linear and I still have a ways to go from coming to terms with what the past has done to my mental- I can say I am in a better place from where I was. I am here, graduated. Through God, a reliable support system, and my preservation was am I able to stand before you as an Alumna of CAU.

This is not a story to tell you to ignore your mental health like me, but please seek what you need to be able to pull yourself out. You are not alone, you are around people that make you feel alone.

So this isn’t a post to tell you:

-graduated with (x) different honors, employed, grad school bound, yada yada yada because you already knew that

This is a post to show you different kinds of merits that made me who I now. Had I went to The college selected for me had I stayed and commute from school and home, had I done what was safe and familiar, I wouldn’t have clipped my wings and grown.

With all the things I’ve experienced in a lifetime, this is to show you: anyone can get through college academically, but do they have the means or mental fortitude to be able to push through. I’ve went through adversity and I am prepared to withstand more.

I’ll leave you with this: “[insert whatever you are going through] and finish it with “and yet I smile”. Because despite what you going through you always have the option to smile about it and boss up For you won’t know my hand unless I show it to you, you won’t know my struggles unless I tell you and you won’t get to be joyous in my success, unless I invite you.

And that's on Mary had a lil lamb

[fireprooflarryfics]

⭐️slow burn larry fic recs⭐️

⭐️Flour and Chocolate - teaandtumblr⭐️ (145.7k) It was nice, for a bakery he supposed. Then he approached the display cabinet. And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN. What. The. Fuck? Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.   OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street. tags: single dad louis, baker harry, domestic fic 

⭐️Like an Endless Summer - objectlesson⭐️ (87.3k) “You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles. “I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.” Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun. tags: summer camp au, wingman zayn 

⭐️Runner on Third - kikikryslee⭐️ (39.6k) As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off. tags: getting back together, childhood friends, teacher harry 

⭐️Dance to the Distortion - Lis (domesticharry)⭐️ (96.6k) Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other. tags: fake relationship, hate to love, photographer harry 

⭐️We’ll Be Seamless - dinosaursmate⭐️ (52.0k) Green reblogged an old photo of himself. It was from back in October, a Halloween special. A pulse shot all the way through Louis because this photo was his absolute favourite, and it had taken the rest of the year for him to wean himself off of it. Green was on his knees, arms stretched out in front of him with his fingertips digging into the surface of his bed. He was wearing a pair of cat ears on his head, his curls falling forward. His back was arched, and in the foreground of the picture, Green’s bum was high in the air, a long, black cat tail sitting neatly between his cheeks. Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite. tags: tumblr au, coworkers

[ticklikeabomb]

One-shot : Low-Key

Pairing : Loki x Plus Size Reader ; Avengers x Plus size Reader

Warnings : Language ; Innuendos

Word Count : 2k

Requested by @lizzybatesblog : Are you taking requests right now? If so, could I ask for a oneshot where Loki walks in on the reader singing and dancing to Low-Key by Ally Brooke and Tyga and thinks about the song she is singing as if she is saying his name? I'm so sorry if this doesn't make sense. And I love your writing! :-)

A/N : I got carried away AGAIN xD

You were born as a Mutant. At first sight, no one knew that you had powers, not even you. It was even more astonishing considering that your parents didn’t have the Mutant gene. You were an only child and suffered from isolation, kids at school quickly picking on you for your weight. To escape that reality you created your own in your head. Their comments quickly became a buzzing background sound while in your universe, music was your life supply, the air your lungs seeked for.  Years passed by and you discovered that you could play any tune after just hearing them once. Very few people had that gift so you didn’t think a lot of it. Reaching your twenties, you decided you had enough of the small town life and expanded your universe by tempting your chance in New York. Resourceful, kind and full of life you managed to get a job as a pianist for a party. Not really asking for the details and just glad you had a chance, you wore your fanciest outfit and made your way to the party. When you entered the room and saw the people inside, you felt small. It was the Nobel Prize after party and here you were about to play for some of the ‘greatest’ populating the world. You took a seat in front of the piano and began to play the first notes of Lykki Li’s Deep End song. 

The second the first words came out of your mouth, the guest’s chatter went dead silent. Only your angelic voice was heard, each word touching them deeply. Among the guests was Bruce Banner, who never felt so peaceful in his entire life. He went back to the compound that night, a large smile on his face, feeling as relaxed as ever. He asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to play the song in his room but something was off. The peaceful feeling wasn’t there, something was missing. It lasted over a week, the frustrations getting the best of him when he eventually asked F.I.D.A.Y to play the camera footage of the after party. He was listening to you play and sing on the screen but the feeling wasn’t there. Tony, Thor and Loki entered the lab and frowned at seeing Bruce, his hands on his head. "What's wrong with him?", asked Loki. "Hey buddy, you're ok?", asked Tony worried. "No…yes… I don't know, it's just her voice." His fellow teammates looked at the screen and frowned. "I rather thing that she has a lovely voice", commented Thor. "That's the thing. When she sang something happened in me, some sort of energy. I've never felt more peacefully as that night", said Bruce before continuing. "F.R.I.D.A.Y can you isolate the sequence and show me the brain composition." 

"Don't you think you're exaggerating there?", asked Tony with a chuckle. The AI did as requested and Bruce told her to press play. "There ! Look. The guests brain composition seconds before she played, they seemed normal but as soon as she began playing and singing, the pleasure side of the brain activated and they're bodies show signs of…compliance?", he pointed at the screen. "That's indeed awkward. F.R.I.D.A.Y give me everything you have on her?", exclaimed Tony. "See I told you there was something." "An enhanced?", added Thor. "If so, she's not listed in the system and that could be a problem. Here an address", said Tony. "Let me go talk to her", exclaimed Bruce. That's how you ended up at the compound. Brought along by Bruce, you waved at the Avengers with a bright smile. "I'm Y/N", you told them. They introduced themselves, not that they needed to. "Bruce told us you're an enhanced", called Sam your way. "I'm a Mutant to be exact." You saw them frown and you elaborated, "I was born with it, they were not generated." "And what exactly are those powers?", asked Wanda. 

"Y/N can persuade her environment to comply as she pleases with a simple word. It can be while she sings, plays piano or any other instrument. Her power lays in her voice", answered Bruce. "Really? Why don't you show us", exclaimed Tony with a cocky smile. You looked at him and asked what was his favorite song. He told you it was Back in Black by AC/DC. You cleared you voice and focused on him, singing the first words of the song. You saw his face crunch in disgust. "Arghhh what the hell? Why are you singing that horrible song, I hate it. Stop it! Stop that, I can't stand it", he shouted angrily. You smiled at the others impressed faces and looked back at Stark, continuing the song but switching his feeling from hate to love. "Yeahhhh that's what I'm talking about. Best song ever !!! I'll fight anyone who says otherwise", he said with sparkling eyes. "Hmm I have to admit that's impressive but in what use would it be while saving the world?", chuckled Loki. You looked at him with mischief in your eyes, "Dance !" and saw his legs and arms move against his order. His face screamed shook and anger cause he had no more control over his body. "Shake that ass", you said and he began twerking. Thor let out a loud laughter along the others. "Who knew Asgardians could twerk", you smirked before looking back at Loki and seeing him fall to his knees, fighting to get up after you said "Down". 

That was a year ago, an eventful year. If someone told you that being part of the Avengers would be on the line when you left your hometown, you would laugh on the person's face. And yet, here we are. You became part of the family, always smiling, open-minded, kind, funny, affectionate and patient with everyone. You were more than a coworker and a friend, you were there when they felt down, angry, sad and comforted them. 

You were currently checking the new songs out on Spotify and put it on shuffle. At some point a catchy song came up and you hummed along. The song "Low Key" by Ally Brooks ft Tyga quickly became your favorite. You would get out of your room in the morning, singing the first lines of the song before entering the kitchen. 

"Low key, low key, you should really get to know me." The God of Mischief was in the kitchen, cutting pieces of apple and frowned hearing you say he should get to know you better. "Why's that dear?", he turned your way but deep in your mind, you didn't noticed he was addressing you. Frustrated he let it slide but kept eyeing you during the whole breakfast. The second time he heard you call after him, he was making his way out of his room after having a shower. "Low key, low key…Yeah, I know you got some things that you could show me", you said with a smile. He felt his face flush and his manhood throb underneath his sweatpants, affected by your words. He cleared his voice and called after you, "I beg your pardon?", he asked you. You looked up and saw what seemed to be a pissed off Loki (who was in reality flustered). "Hey Loki everything alright?", you asked him. "I could ask you the same thing. I don't know what are those things that I could show you but this is extremely inappropriate", he exclaimed before vanishing, leaving you behind confused. 

The third time he heard you 'call after him', you were doing squats in the gym. He was already looking at you, your curves driving the God insane. "Low key, low key, I see you looking at my body very closely. But there's a lot of things about me that you don't see. You know we could take it fast or take it slowly. (…) I can take you places you ain't been before me. Then, the rest I guess is self-explanatory." He widened his eyes, following your ass up and down before he cleared his throat and leashed out of the gym, groaning. "What's got over him?", asked Bucky to Steve. "I have no idea and I'm not sure I wanna know", the blond haired responded. 

The fourth time he thought he heard you, you were all alone in the living room looking out to the sky while mumbling "I see you watchin', you been plottin' on me, low key, yeah" He felt his heart drop in his stomach, scarred that you may think that he was plotting something against you. 'If you only knew', he thought. He wanted to let you know the feelings that he was harboring for you but was scared you would turn him down. Little did he know that you liked him too. Sure if you wanted you could say one word and have him kneeled in front of you but you didn't play games when it came to your family, friends and Loki. 

The next day Loki couldn't sleep and decided to read the book he saw in your hands a couple of weeks earlier. He was finishing the fifth chapter when he heard noise coming out from the gym. What he saw made his heart beat frantically : you singing and dancing happily. What caught his attention after were the lyrics.

Low key, low key, you should really get to know me Low key, low key, you should really get to know me

Yeah, I know you got some things that you could show me

Low key, low key, you should really get to know me

I see you looking at my body very closely

But there's a lot of things about me that you don't see

You know we could take it fast or take it slowly

We could fly out to Ibiza and get cozy

All your friends are looking for you

They don't know where you're at

'Cause you left with me and slipped out the back

Low key, low key, you should really get to know me Low key, low key, you should really get to know me

Yeah, I know you got some things that you could show me

Low key, low key, you should really get to know me

He mentally face-palmed himself discovering you were singing this song all along for weeks, instead of calling after him and felt bad for leaving you standing by yourself when he lashed out without giving an explanation. He entered the gym and you turned around, your eyes sparkling when you saw him approaching. You spread your arm into an invitation and he grabbed your hand. His arms circled around your wide waist and yours on his neck, you danced together. No words needed. Loki felt bold and dropped a chaste kiss on your neck. "Loki", you breathed out. You felt him push you closer and hummed contentedly. "That wasn't very Low key was it?", he said and felt her smiling. "I found it quite smooth at the contrary", you responded and looked at him in the eyes. "Y/N…I -", he started but you shook your head. "I know, me too", you smiled. His smile joined yours before he leaded down and showed you how much with a chaste but passionate kiss. You spend the rest of the night talking, him telling you about the times he thought you were calling him but were singing the song to which you laughed loudly. When you looked at the clock you saw it was already breakfast time. Your hands joined, you and Loki entered the kitchen and prepared something to eat. You were cutting fresh fruits when you mumbled out a new song : Ponyboy by Sophie. 

"Ponyboy… lock up the door"

"Ehmmm Y/N why would I lock the door and why are you calling me Tony Boy?", asked Tony. You looked at him confused for a second and your eyes locked with Loki's. "Oh no it's starting again", you commented before cracking up in loud laughter, Loki joining you. He stood up and dropped a kiss on your shoulder. "Did I miss something?", asked Bucky to Steve. The blond haired again shook his head and mumbled, "I have absolutely no clue what's going on in this place." 

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

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[omg-imagine]

⊱ Green is Not the Devil’s Color ⊰

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Request: I just saw that you finished daredevil and as fellow Matt Murdock trash can I pretty please ask for some kind of jealous Matt x reader... :) thank you very much and hope you’re having a lovely time. - Anon

Warnings: Language, brief mentions of alcohol and suggestive material

Words: 2,630

A/N: For the anon who requested this, here you go! It’s long, but I hope you enjoy it! Requests are still open, so feel free to send one in.

(Credit to the GIF owner)

Soon after locking up the office, Matt found himself being dragged to Josie’s by you, Karen, and Foggy for drinks to celebrate the end of a long, tiring week.

Usually, he skipped the outings in favor of patrolling the streets as the vigilante Daredevil. But when you batted your eyelashes at him and promised that drinks would be on you, he couldn’t resist this time around.

Matt liked you a lot which alarmed him, to say the least. He believed that he wasn’t good enough for you; that you deserved so much better than a complicated man such as himself. His life was dangerous due to his “other” job, and he couldn’t imagine how he would react if anything happened to you because of him.

“Hey,” the sound of your sweet voice brought him back to reality, and he was quick to flash you a smile. “Foggy and Karen want another round. Do you want a new beer or you’re good?”

Matt nodded, realizing that you were softly clutching his bicep, and he relished the warmth of your touch. “Yeah, thanks.”

When he heard your footsteps retreating, he heaved out a heavy sigh, holding onto the pool stick in his hands.

Matt was conflicted. Half of him wanted to push you away, create enough distance in hopes that his feelings would eventually disappear. There was also the other half that wanted to flirt shamelessly with you and steal a touch here and there.

With his heightened senses, he knew that you liked him as much as he liked you, yet the only thing standing in the way was his insecurities.

“Fog, look over there,” Karen half-whispered, and Foggy immediately faced where she was nudging her head towards to.

Matt couldn’t see it, but he was able to sense you standing in front of the counter, waiting for Josie to bring out more beers from the back. A man sitting on one of the bar stools nearby saw you and Matt soon became aware of his pulse racing.

From across the room, Matt heard the man introduce himself to you, extending his hand out for you to shake. You shook his hand with a smile and gave him your name. The two of you began a small conversation, one which Matt could listen in its entirety over the chatting patrons and the music playing in the background.

It was harmless from what he could hear. You were just exchanging pleasantries and little bits of information like where you were from, what brought you to this bar, who you were with.

Matt breathed out a sigh of relief when you left the man with the drinks in your hand, returning to the pool table the four of you were occupying.

“Okay, three cheap beers fresh from the stockroom,” you announced as you handed each of your friends a bottle.

Karen caught a glimpse of the man by the counter looking at you. “Who’s the guy?”

“Ryan, he’s new around here,” you answered, glancing behind you and catching Ryan doing the same. “Do you mind if I invite him over here? He seems like a chill guy, and he needs some new friends.”

Foggy and Karen looked at each other and nodded. “We’re cool with it. Matt?”

Matt wasn’t sure what to say, but not wanting to keep you from waiting, he agreed. Quickly, you excused yourself so that you could bring him over to your table.

“Hey, are you okay?” Foggy asked, and Matt gave him his best smile.

“I’m fine,” he stated. “Is it my turn already?”

“Yeah,” Foggy spoke, not entirely convinced with Matt’s answer. “Look, I might not have your special abilities, but I can tell when you’re lying.”

Matt let out an awkward laugh before giving Foggy a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t want to admit it to me, that’s alright,” Foggy began. “I saw the look on your face when (Y/N) was talking to Ryan and the one you just made when they asked if he could come here.”

“I was not making a face,” Matt denied.

“You kinda were,” Karen said, and Matt snorted at that. “Listen, Foggy, and I have noticed the way you’re tiptoeing around (Y/N). We’re not oblivious to the fact that you like them. We know the reason why you haven’t done anything is that you think you’re not good enough, which is untrue.”

Brushing off Karen’s words, Matt went around the table and leaned in close, choosing to continue the pool game instead of hearing what he already knew.

“Karen’s right, Matt. You two are good together, and you shouldn’t feel that way,” Foggy added. “Just remember that (Y/N) is an amazing person but it’s not fair for them to wait on you forever. We’re just warning you that the more you wait, the more you lose your chance.”

Matt paused as he took in his words but shook his head in response. “We’re better off as friends.”

Foggy scoffed. “Then don’t be surprised when someone else comes along and tries to get with (Y/N).”

“They’re coming back,” Karen remarked, but Matt ignored it, drawing the pool stick back and then pushed it forward, striking the white cue ball.

“Damn, you missed,” you pointed out to Matt, who muttered a curse under his breath. “I think you had one too many drinks, Matty. It’s affecting your super senses.”

Matt gave you a small smile before you introduced the man to the group. “Okay, this is Ryan. He just moved here from Staten Island yesterday. Ryan, these are my good friends and coworkers Foggy Nelson, Karen Page, and Matt Murdock.”

Each one took a turn in shaking Ryan’s hand. When it came to Matt, however, something didn’t sit well with him. There was something not genuine about Ryan, but he couldn’t explain why.

The night progressed without much trouble, aside from the fact that you were entirely occupied with Ryan. Seriously, one of the reasons you listed for why Matt should go tonight was so that you and he could catch up. He was annoyed that you begged him to come only for you to ignore him the remainder of the night.

Matt used his heightened hearing once more to listen in on your conversation. Lies—all the things Ryan had shared about him were lies. He wasn’t an office manager in Manhattan, he didn’t drive a Bentley, nor did he live in one of those new luxury apartments down the block. He lied to you about moving to Hell’s Kitchen; he wasn’t even from New York!

Aside from only talking to Ryan, you were touchy with each other. Sure, you had two or three drinks already, but you were way too comfortable with the guy. At one instance, Matt sensed that Ryan had placed a hand on your thigh. He picked up on your heart racing when Ryan gave you a squeeze, and it took all of Matt’s strength not to snap the pool stick he held in half.

At that point, Matt was seething, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. What was he supposed to say? He had no place in telling the guy to back off, especially since based on your reaction alone, you seemed to be enjoying his touch. He could only stand there and simmer in anger.

“Jealous yet, Murdock?” Foggy questioned lowly while Matt continued staring at you and Ryan as if he could see everything that was happening with his very own eyes. “Told you it wouldn’t be too long.”

“The guy’s been feeding them lies ever since they sat down, and they’re falling for it,” Matt bitterly shared, taking a swig of his beer.

Karen sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They seem to be enjoying themselves, though. I haven’t seen (Y/N) this happy in a while. Last time was when—”

Matt shot her a look. “When?”

The blonde flickered her eyes away. “The first couple of months when they started working for us. When you would flirt nonstop with them in the office. When they had a lot of more hope that you would ask them to dinner or something.”

Matt’s lips formed a thin line as the sound of your laughter reached his ears. He remembered those days vividly because they were undoubtedly the happiest times he had with you.

Matt thought about it and took a deep breath. Pushing you away was no use. He realized that his feelings would never go away as much as he tried to fight them. And if tonight wasn’t a clear indication, he could not stand the thought of losing you to someone else.

“It’s not too late yet, Matt,” Foggy said quietly, resting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Go get them.”

Nodding, Matt noticed you standing up and getting ready to leave the bar. Giving Foggy his pool stick, he then swiftly walked over to where you and Ryan were.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked.

“It’s getting late. Ryan’s offered to walk me home,” you replied, taking the jacket that was hanging on the back of your seat and slipping it on.

“(Y/N), let me do that for you,” Matt offered. “Let me walk you home. It’s on the way to my place anyway.”

“Hey, man, it’s fine. You, Foggy and Karen get home safe,” Ryan interjected. “I’ll take care of (Y/N). Besides, the night is still young, and we’re not done getting to know each other yet.”

God would have been extremely impressed by the level of self-control Matt was displaying at that very second. Instead of punching the smugness off his face, he calmly took your hand into his, which caused you to glance up at him, confused.

“Matty, are you alright?” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, and you felt him squeeze yours softly.

“Yeah, I am,” he said, leaning into you close enough that his lips brushed against your ear. “Please, just trust me on this and come with me.”

Matt stepped backward, still holding onto you as he waited for you to make your next move. You looked at the two men standing in front of you, and after seeing the frustration etched on Ryan’s face, you tugged on Matt’s hand.

“Sorry, Ryan. I guess I’ll see you around,” you waved him off as the corner of Matt’s lips formed a smile.

“Whatever. I can’t believe you chose that blind guy over me. Your loss,” Ryan huffed as he stomped out of the premises.

Foggy and Karen burst out laughing once Ryan disappeared while Matt lifted your hand and gave it a kiss.

It was already one in the morning when everyone decided to call it a night. While waiting for a taxi to take Foggy and Karen back to their place, you all made a plan to do this again next Friday night, to which Matt happily agreed to this time. Once the other two were whisked away in a cab, you and Matt walked to your apartment together as promised.

At that moment, Matt was a mixed bag of emotions. He hasn’t felt any happier in his life than how he did right now. Your arm was locked with Matt’s, navigating him safely on the sidewalk as he silently wished that the night would never come to an end.

“So, what was that about?” You asked him once you reached the stairs of your building. You carefully lead Matt to sit on the third step, taking a seat right beside him.

Matt cocked his head, and you chuckled. “Are you talking about at Josie’s?”

You playfully smacked him on his arm, but he was able to catch your hand before you could hit him. Instead, Matt intertwined his fingers with yours as you laid your head against his shoulder.

“Yup,” you responded. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at Ryan. I thought you were going to go all Daredevil on him.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

You shrugged as you moved your free hand and took the red glasses off his face, smiling at the sight of his warm brown eyes. Matt knew that you were staring at him, and judging by the way your body was reacting, you liked what you were seeing.

“Maybe it’s because you were jealous,” you teased.

“Jealous?” Matt repeated as if it was the most absurd idea in the world. “I think you saw it all wrong.”

“Did I?” You giggled. “Matthew Murdock, you are not the first jealous man I’ve encountered, so I know it when I see one.”

“Why would I be jealous of that douche?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you began as you reached up to cup the side of his face, his beard scratching your palm. “All of my attention was on him, and he was flirting with me. We were both getting handsy with one another—”

“Okay, perhaps I was a little jealous,” Matt said in defeat.

“A little? No, you were angry. You were pissed, I could tell,” you added, recalling the way his jaw clenched back at the bar. “Don’t deny it. It was cute, I appreciated it.”

“Cute?” Matt chuckled, pretending to be offended by your statement.

“Fine, it was hot,” you fanned yourself, and Matt laughed at your joke. “But don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having Ryan stay or anything. I really wanted to go home, but I didn’t want to bother you, Karen, or Foggy since you guys were busy playing pool. I didn’t want to walk home alone, so I agreed when he offered. I know that everything he told me was bullshit.”

“Yeah, I heard that and could tell he was lying.”

You raised a brow at him. “Did you just admit to using your advanced hearing abilities to eavesdrop on my private conversation?”

“Uh, yes,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But for a good reason, though. I had a gut feeling that something was off about him.”

“Well, thanks, Murdock. You were right.”

He leaned his head towards yours, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Anytime.”

A beat passed before you spoke again. “Now, what?”

“How about dinner? Not tonight obviously, but sometime this week,” he suggested as you watched the words leave his mouth.

“It only took another guy to flirt with me for you to finally ask me out?”

Matt froze as he blushed at your observation. “I guess the whole thing helped me realize that I shouldn’t wait any longer when it comes to you.”

The happiness immediately radiated off from you, and Matt could feel it. He listened as your heart fluttered, your face inching closer to his. Matt noticed the similar way his body was responding when your lips lightly brushed against his as if you were testing the waters.

Matt tilted his head to give you better access as you kissed him whole-heartedly, your lips effortlessly melding with his. He brought one hand to the side of your neck and pulled you closer to him. Your breathing grew heavy as he deepened the kiss, committing to memory the way you tasted on his lips.

Before anything could happen further, Matt ended the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he muttered.

“Me too,” you whispered, stealing another kiss from Matt.

“So, what do you say about dinner?”

You hummed as Matt snaked his arm behind your neck, and you instantly nestled into his warm side. He felt you nod your head and he swore he could hear his own heart hammering inside his chest.

Pressing a kiss against your temple, he then smiled. “It’s a date.”

[curious-minx]

Robbery @ My Former Dunkin

Prior to giving up my dream of the silver screen I was giving up on a whole different kind of dream. A dead end dream at one of my last “real” jobs where I partially served as and adjunct assistant manager. Honest, hard, and legitimate work. That’s fast food work. Unfortunately, these skills do not effortlessly translate over into working in a chic boutique pulling the espresso bean third wave bars in Brooklyn, but it was a pleasure to sling swirls of chemical confections at a wayward and loyal public. Recently this Dunkin that I used to work at has experienced an attempt of robbery by a white man wearing a face mask, a grey hoodie and gym shorts. This is my Marky Mark Wahlberg styled what if I was on the 9/11 Flight story. 

///

Simo, the Moroccan manager, is fasting and lifting weights in the donut, proteins and tots walk-in freezer, frost panes his glasses. Perennial opening shifter Mamadoo is praying on a promotional pop-up deal mat as a makeshift prayer rug. He is surrounded by paper products and plastic cups. An acoustic “Sirius coffee shop” cover of Michael Jackson’s “Bad” performed by the Missing Jonas Brother is playing softly overhead. Business as usual. I am busy memorizing the finer details of the “Charli” hoping that the Tik Tok sensation will drive up  past this random Western North Carolinian Dunkin Donuts and feel drawn like a moth to the sucrose. I don’t have a tik Tok account and shame the rest of my kindergarten coworkers who film themselves on the app doing dabs and blowing smoke through donut holes. A young blonde co-worker has quit today and shamed me for being in my late twenties working at a Dunkin Donuts. 

One of my beloved  customers, and stalkers,  Ames, a taller than average in height woman always seen wearing jogging clothing and sun glasses. When I felt her presence bump behind me at a local concert Tune-yards concert I turned around to confirm that it’s her, and yep, she’s still wearing her sunglasses even inside at a dark concert, and when I turn around to clock her presence again she had already moved to the complete opposite side of the theater. Ames,  in general, had been causing controversy since the pandemic  by trying to order exclusively while riding on her hover board, insisting that she was trying to boost staff morale. When she got up to the window she would awkwardly light up a joint and make sure to shake it all around to make the smoke’s presence known and then blow smoke into my face through her face mask. She wanted pumpkin flavoring all year round and would encourage me through excessive tipping to hide pumpkin syrup inside the storage room walls so that I could slip some in her iced latte. Then without fail after receiving the drink, she then pretends that she has forgotten that she no longer likes the taste of the pumpkin flavoring and bats her eyelashes for another drink. Turns out that she truly wanted the salted caramel and molasses Dunkachino with two room temperature shots of espresso, and sometimes she would order exactly what she wanted, but other times , like today, she was in a mood to play.

Before Ames has a chance to get up to the window, her kneepads clacking together as she struggles to stay balanced on her hover board. A man who refused to leave the cordoned, blocked off former lobby seating area. He ordered a black coffee with twenty creams on the side and kept getting up indicating that he was about to leave, but then set back down on top of an overturned chair. Suddenly, he gathers momentum and approaches the cash register, both hands shoved into his hoodie’s front pocket cradling a pistol. 

“Open up the safe and empty everything into this bag. Be careful, it’s a sentimental mesh. Oh yeah, also,  I have a gun!”The man widens his own eyes as if he’s surprised by the possession of his own gun and tries to stare down my coworker Afternoon Honey (actual name). She’s about to beat him down, but thinks better of it and hits the under the panic button inside of the base of the Coolatta machine. 

Officer Casey Chowderfell, an over bearing cop that has been driving up to this particular Dunkin for decades holding his mouth open to have scalding hot coffee poured down a funnel into his mouth, quickly arrives. According to Officer Casey he tried to eat a taser mistaking it for a Ham and egg salad and ruined the lining of his mouth and can only taste the hottest coffee possible. He is pulling up behind Ames ready to honk and harass her, but because she was a harmless wealthy white woman he gives her another one of her infinite warnings, before his cop car sirens start bleeding ears. The cop car itself appears to be fuming steams as if outraged by the act of attempting to rob a sacred temple of coffee and donuts. 

I am attempting to get Simo to listen to me about the robbery that is in progress, but the manager, and fellow Moroccan, Aziz is speaking to him in a musical Arabic language and all I can do is wait patiently. They begin to playfully wrestle each other, they abruptly stop, and put on face masks and resume the wrestling. Fellow co-co manager, the towering beanpole Dickies, tries to get into the wrestling fun, but Simo and Aziz stop and look ashamed at themselves and resume speaking to each other, but at a barely audible whisper volume, and go into the office and lock the door. Money is being exchange, insider Dunkin secrets are being slipped away. 

“Gosh Dickie you can never really tell with those guys.” I start cracking myself up. “Oh yeah, someone is trying to rob the store.” 

Simo and Aziz burst out of the office the widescreen security camera frozen on the gym short wearing assailant in the lobby. 

“Someone is robbing the store! Grab the safe Simo!”

“No one is robbing the store on my watch. Hush Aziz! Let’s get you a cruller and get you on your way. I’d hate if you brought corporate into this mess. Dylan and Dickie what are you standing around for? Go help Afternoon deal with this robber man!”

Afternoon whizzes past us and swings open the back exit. She mumbles, “The cops are already here.” She runs out to the parking lot and gets into her car and drives away to another parking lot to lay low. 

I take Dickies’ hand and we both quietly creep up to the front of the store where Officer Casey, Deputy Bumkiss, Sheriff Huffer and the German Shepherd drug enforcer and community outreach supervisor Buttercup. Buttercup is finishing up leaving bite marks on the attempted robbers testicles, it’s her signature touch. Officer Casey rips his face mask off and thrusts himself over the counter. He pushes me out of the way and starts pulling coffee pots out from their stationed burners and drinking the coffee liquid as it pours straight from the percolator. A filthy metallic spigot  that has never been properly cleaned in the history of its installation. He goes back around the counter, swinging his hips, and takes the attempted robber by the scruff of his neck. Around the neck of the would be robber is a necklace with a dangling vial of some kind of brightly red colored gas. Buttercup barks at the gas and immediately inhales the vast majority of the gas cloud. The dark lies limp and urinates on the floor. Simo stifles a moan of disgust and tells me to go get a mop bucket ready. 

Buttercup goes on a rampage and does not stop until she finishes eating the most vital organs out of each of the three police officers. And none of us doing anything about it. Once Buttercup snaps down on Officer Casey’s heart she’s thrown out of her rage induced trance, whimpers and runs away darting away from traffic, sprinting  into a thickly forested area lining the nearby high school. The robber takes the guns out of the police officer’s holsters and looks at us and then starts running away from the Dunkin, but he is stopped by Ames on her hover board. She demands that we name a new drink after her, an official Dunkin drink that gets announced on the company’s social media page. She’s given more to Dunkin than any pre tween starlet!

Simo gnashes his teeth and thanks Ames and tells her that he’ll see what he can do. The Dunkin closes early for the day for a deep cleaning. I am my hands and knees mopping up cop blood off of my Dunkin Donuts lobby. Fast food is real work and it is hard work that goes beyond the essentials.