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shotgun--rider · 5 years ago

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Fake It Till You Make It - Three

A Sam x Reader Series

PART THREE

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3900

Warnings: plus size! Reader, fatphobic & diet comments, Y/N’s family are demons, allusions to drug use, cuddly Sam

A/N: We’re getting somewhere! Also, Tom the baker is based on a grocery store cashier from my childhood. She was about seventy and would always tell my mom she remembered when my mom was pregnant with me, and then comment that I was growing so fast and when was I getting married. The kicker was that my mom didn’t start shopping at that grocery store until after I was born. Shout out to Rosie.

In the cold light of day, waking up on the bedroom floor with a Sam Winchester-shaped octopus wrapped around you was a lot more panic-inducing than you’d expected. Then again, you’d somehow gone from one fairly innocent arm slung across your waist to being wrapped up and tucked against his chest, legs tangled up and Sam’s face mostly pressed into your neck.

You wondered briefly if he had enough room to breathe, immediately snapping at yourself that that was hardly the most pressing issue here. Your very fake boyfriend was using you as a human teddy bear and you had no idea how to escape, not without waking him. And waking Sam was very much not an option right now. As long as you somehow got out of this without his knowledge, you wouldn’t have to wade through the awkwardness or hear him try to politely tell you it meant nothing. You wouldn’t have to see the look on his face when he realized he’d snuggled himself up to--well, to someone like you. You’d heard it all before, of course, but hearing it from Sam would be infinitely worse.

Cursing silently to yourself, you glanced down at Sam to ascertain how deeply he seemed to be sleeping, your entire body tensing when you were met with one sleepy hazel eye already blinking at you. “Hi,” Sam mumbled into your hair, like this was completely normal.

“Hi,” you managed to squeak back, kicking yourself for not moving when you’d woken up in the middle of the night. This was what you got for thinking with the part of your brain that seemed to exist purely to drool over Sam friggin Winchester.

He seemed to suddenly notice how stiffly you were holding yourself, and raised his head to look at you, looking entirely non-threatening and far too sweet with his fluffed-up hair and the crease of the sheet you’d been sleeping on pressed into his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you returned dumbly, caught somewhere between get out get away run away now and continuing to stare at his face. “I don’t know, could you just...um...let...go?” you fumbled through, looking pointedly down at his arms banded around your stomach.

Sam looked like he was still half asleep, following your gaze in confusion for a moment before hastily pulling his arms away from you. “Sorry,”

You were scrambling up the second he let go, beating a hasty retreat to the bathroom without sparing a look for the man still sprawled out on the floor, scolding yourself for your idiocy the whole way. You went through getting ready almost angrily, berating yourself for getting into a situation that taunted you with what you couldn’t have and embarrassed you in the process. Still with the toothbrush clamped in your mouth, you grabbed your phone and shot off a text to Charlie: Who TF thought this was a good idea????

Her response was almost immediate. Good morning to you too.

You: Char I’m serious. Should have just brought you and said I was a flaming lesbian.

Charlie: Except for that you’re still totally into Sam

You: Not. Helping.

Charlie: You could always just tell him that.

You didn’t bother giving her a response, rolling your eyes in the mirror and putting your phone back down. Charlie had always been that way, relentlessly urging you to go for whatever it was, eternally confident that it would work out in your favor. Experience had told you it usually didn’t. And you didn’t even need past experience to know how “fat girl asks out the hot guy” ended.

Giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you steeled yourself to walk back out of the bathroom. The best option, of course, was just to ignore the morning’s situation, which you imagined Sam would be equally on board with. After all, it had to be at least a little awkward for him too, waking up curled around someone he thought of as basically family. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

Sam was already dressed when you reentered the bedroom, and you spared a second to firmly remind yourself that nothing productive would come out of you staring at his ass in a pair of jeans. He spun as soon as he heard the door open, a faint blush of color still on his cheeks. “Hey, Y/N, I--”

“So I need to go pick up a cake today,” you blurted before he could finish, “and flowers. Is it cool if we use your car?”

Sam stared at you uncomprehendingly for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing up. “What? I didn’t--yeah. Okay. Do you want me to come?”

Somehow you’d made him look like a kicked puppy and this was not the morning you’d been aiming for. “Unless you’d rather stay here,” you arched an eyebrow dryly, trying for humor. “Get stared at by my family like a zoo animal,”

Sam’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he just shrugged. “I’ll come if you want,”

“Okay,” you returned briskly, using the excuse of grabbing your wallet to break up the sudden tension in the room and give you something to do.

The two of you made it downstairs without any major incidents, hastily skirting past the room where your Aunt Abaddon could be heard shrieking angrily, and you exhaled in relief when you finally made it out to where Sam’s car was parked on the driveway. He immediately went around to the passenger’s side, while you paused in front of the grill. “You don’t want to drive?”

He shrugged easily. “You know the area better than I do,”

Somehow, driving his car felt like more of an intrusion than it had when you were just driving up to the estate, but you sighed and climbed behind the wheel, wondering for the millionth time why anybody had ever thought this was a good idea. Just get over it, Y/N. You forced yourself to smile at Sam. “Florist first? So the cake doesn’t start melting?”

He still had a little bit of the kicked-puppy expression, but he nodded easily, turning to something on his phone while you pulled out of the drive. Way to go, Y/N. Is there anything you can’t fuck up?

The pickup from the florist went off without a hitch, and soon Sam’s backseat was stuffed full of sweet-smelling bouquets wiggling cheerfully with the movement of the car. Say what you would about Ruby, but she did know how to pick a good color scheme.

More pressing than the flowers, though, was the fact that Sam hadn’t said a word to you so far beyond what was necessary to load the bouquets without crushing them. You could feel his eyes on you when you were looking at the road, but he’d stayed silent for the entire drive to the bakery Ruby had ordered from.

You’d half expected to leave him in the car, but he followed you inside dutifully, standing a few steps off to the side while you gave Ruby’s name to the girl at the counter.

“Y/N!”

You winced, turning to greet the baker with a hopefully-genuine smile. He was a friend of your mother’s more than anyone, but he’d always been polite to you, if terribly pushy. “Hi, Tom. I’m just here for Ruby’s cakes,”

The big man looked over your shoulder with a wiggling eyebrow. “And when am I going to make yours, hmm?”

You stared at him, uncomprehending. “Sorry, make my what?”

“Your wedding cake!” he went on cheerfully. “This young man’s yours, isn’t he?”

“Uh,” you turned hastily to look at Sam, who reached for your hand with a swift, reassuring smile.

“Yes,” Sam answered for you, and you briefly considered the merits of stepping on his foot. You didn’t need to sell this lie to everyone in the tri-state area, for god’s sake. On the other hand, that would mean letting go of his hand, which you really didn’t want to do.

“I thought so!” Tom announced triumphantly. “What’s your name, son?”

Sam dropped your hand to reach over the glass display case and shake Tom’s. “Sam Winchester, sir,”

You blinked at the scene unfolding in front of you, wondering if it would be more or less painful to watch a train wreck in action. Of all people, of course you had to run into nosy old Tom. The conversation went on over your head for a few more minutes, with Sam explaining his law career briefly and then doing a lot of nodding and smiling and casually touching you while Tom went rambling on about seeing you as a small child with your mother.

You weren’t even sure what story he was telling, and given the fact that you only came up to Aunt Abaddon’s a few times a year at best, it was entirely possible he was mixing you up with some other mother and child. More than likely, in fact, since you found it hard to believe your mother would have ever taken you somewhere with a lot of calories and sugar.

“You’d better take good care of her, now.”

Sam’s hand slid to hover at your lower back. “Of course.”

You cleared your throat roughly, looking up at Tom. “So, uh, the cake?”

“Yes, yes, of course! Now, you just let your man there take care of this,” Tom slid three enormous boxes toward Sam, “and I’ll get you rung out,”

That would normally be a job for the cashier girl, but no one really ever bothered arguing with Tom. Handing over the car keys to Sam with an apologetic wince, you trailed over to the register, digging out your card in advance in the hope of making this fast.

“I like him,” Tom announced, pulling up the order sheet on a clipboard. He peered at you over the glasses on the end of his nose, studying you. “Why do you look awkward?”

“Uh,” you stuttered eloquently. “Well it’s just that Sam and I, we’re kind of...I mean it hasn’t been all that long, I just--” It’s fake. You wanted to scream. The whole thing is fake and he’s just being nice and I know that and I still want to keep him. Like, forever.

Tom’s eyebrow arched as he slid your card through the reader. “But you do know he’s in love with you, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard. “Oh, I don’t think--I mean, no?”

The old baker frowned, taking his time wrapping the receipt up around your card. “That’s how he looks at you.”

“O...kay,” you chirped out cheerfully. “Thanks Tom, bye Tom,” You scurried out the front door of the shop before he could yell anything else after you, breathing a sigh of relief that was immediately cut off in your chest at the sight of Sam, busy sliding flowers around in the backseat to make room for the cakes. That’s how he looks at you.

As if he’d somehow heard your thoughts, Sam paused in his wedding-themed backseat Tetris puzzle, looking up over the top of the car door at you and lighting up with the brightest smile you thought you’d ever seen on his face. Your heart clenched at the sight of him, and you wondered suddenly what the hell you were going to do when the wedding was over. God, I am so screwed.

“Sorry about Tom,” you said aloud instead, automatically taking one of the boxes out of Sam’s hand while he wrestled the plant he’d been supporting with his hip. “And sorry there’s so much crap in your car.”

Sam just chuckled, fitting the last of the cakes inside and carefully closing the door, lest he behead any of the bouquets. “It’s not a big deal, Y/N,”

“I still feel bad,” You weren’t sure if you were apologizing for commandeering his car or for everything else you’d messed up.

“Well, don’t,” Sam said stoutly, and that was that. He watched you get back into the driver’s seat, your hands on the wheel and a pout on your face. “What?”

Your nose wrinkled, your foot steady on the brake even though you knew you should be driving back. “I just realized how much I don’t want to go back,” you confessed. “I’m just whining, I know…”

Sam reached out, laying his hand on your shoulder easily. “Switch with me,” he said suddenly, making you blink.

“What?”

“Switch with me,” he repeated, his hand vacating your shoulder to hit the button releasing your seatbelt. “Let me drive,”

You had no idea where he was going with this, but you got out of the car anyway, doing some imitation of a two-person Chinese fire drill in Tom’s parking lot. While you settled yourself into the passenger seat, sparing a nervous glance for the flowers in the backseat, Sam pulled out of the lot, looked both ways, and promptly turned down the road leading directly away from your estate. “Sam,” you hissed out. “What are you doing?”

“Not taking you home?”

“Sam, if the cakes melt Ruby will kill me,”

“Well, they’re not ice cream cakes,” Sam said reasonably, reaching for the A/C dial. “There.”

“I haven’t been so concerned about anything since I babysat small children,” you said wryly. “God, I hope nothing dies,”

“They’re cut flowers, Y/N, they’re already dying,” Sam deadpanned, taking another arbitrary turn that put you even further from Abaddon’s.

You tilted your head at him, a laugh escaping you in spite of yourself. “Have you always been like this and I just didn’t notice?”

“You just listen to Dean talking about me,”

That was probably true, you reflected. Dean’s narrative of his brother, while undoubtedly very loving, boiled down to “nerd, lawyer, smart, goes for runs and doesn’t like bacon” most of the time. You didn’t answer immediately, just studying Sam while he drove fairly aimlessly, somehow leaving you lighter than you’d felt all day. “Seriously, though. Where are we going?”

Sam bit his lip briefly, turning to look at you with his forehead wrinkled in concern. “I don’t...know. I might be lost,”

You burst out laughing in the passenger seat, jerking forward so hard that the seatbelt’s automatic stop kicked in, holding you dangling against the belt while tears ran down your face. Sam pulled over on the shoulder, his eyes crinkled up as he watched you laughing at him, and when you finally straightened up and wiped your eyes, he was smiling fondly at you. “Why did I let you drive?” you asked dryly, before turning over your shoulder and glancing back down the road. “Okay, turn around and turn left at the first intersection,”

Sam followed your directions without question, and if you’d have been a bit bolder--and hadn’t had Ruby’s bridal bouquet in the backseat--you might have kept directing him straight to the interstate. As it was, you led him to the little park a few miles behind your aunt’s property, pointing out the window to the creek that was visible from the road.

“Meg fell in when we were kids,” you narrated, smiling vaguely at the memory. “I was twelve, it was Easter, and we got this brilliant idea to sneak away from dinner and go run to the creek. She just kind of tipped over,” you giggled softly as you recalled the day. “It was an early Easter that year, too, so of course the water was freezing.”

You shook your head. “Then she convinced me that Uncle Az was going to kill her for getting wet, so we snuck her upstairs to steal Abaddon’s hair dryer. We thought we could somehow dry her clothes, I don’t know. Anyway, my aunt found us, sitting on her bathroom floor in a puddle of creek water. That was the only time I’ve ever seen her laugh. She always liked Meg more,”

Sam had listened to you with rapt attention, and now he tilted his head in the direction of the park and its little creek. “Show me?”

You couldn’t deny the little rush of happiness up in your chest at the question, and you made a face at him over the top of the car as you both scrambled out. “If you get me wet I really will kill you, Sam Winchester.”

“Noted,” He jogged around the car, hopping over the curb to catch up with you, and stuck close to your side as you both walked through the grass. For a moment, you almost reached out to grab his hand, reminding yourself at the last second that you didn’t need to. No one was watching. You didn’t need to play the charade. And that was all it was, you reminded yourself firmly.

You reached the little creek a few minutes later, Sam sitting down on a boulder while you peeked down the sloped bank into the water. “Is that your favorite memory?” he asked after a moment.

“Probably, yeah,” you shrugged, trying to make it casual. “Most of the rest of them I was either getting blamed for something Ruby did or told to go on a diet.”

Sam frowned at you, reaching his hand out to you. You took it hesitantly, letting him pull you closer to his boulder without really knowing what he was trying to accomplish. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that, Y/N,” he said seriously, tugging on your hand gently again as you realized he was trying to get you to sit down with him.

“Don’t Sam, I’m too heavy,”

“You’re not,” Sam said firmly, pulling your hand just hard enough to unbalance you. You fell with a squeak, landing easily across his legs, and to your immense relief, nobody died. “See?” he smiled at you.

“Okay, you’ve proved your point, Mr. Lawyer,” you feigned a grumpy expression, trying not to give any attention to the butterflies that had decided to take up residence somewhere in your stomach.

“Good,” Sam murmured. He leaned his head briefly on your shoulder, and for just that moment, it felt like you were in your own little bubble, and everything was perfect. And then your phone rang.

“Y/N where the fuck are you? Did they fuck up the order or something?”

“No,” you said hastily. “No, everything’s fine. They’re all safe and sound in Sam’s backseat.” God, you really did sound like you were talking about children. Beside you, Sam was stifling a laugh and you elbowed his chest lightly.

“Okay so then where are you? Gramma wants to see the flowers,” Ruby snapped impatiently. “I figured you’d be able to get this done for me, Y/N.”

“Coming,” you sighed out, and Sam squeezed your free hand reassuringly. “We’re coming.”

“Did you stop for car sex? That’s gross.”

“No, Ruby,” you glanced at Sam. “We did not stop for car sex.”

Sam snorted, loud enough that Ruby definitely heard him. Figuring you’d gotten the necessary communication over with, you opted to just hang up before she could start shrieking again.

“That would be our cue,” you said wryly, hopping up off of Sam’s lap. Your foot came down on a half-buried rock as you shifted to standing, your ankle rolling sideways and your balance faltering.

Sam’s arms came around your waist just as you were pinwheeling your arms, preparing to take a dive into the creek. You yelped, hearing a reassuring laugh from Sam as he pulled you away from the edge of the creek bank. “I’ve got you. You did tell me not to let you get wet.”

Your adrenaline rush had melted into a fit of giggles, and you let Sam hang on to you on flat ground while you laughed, totally at ease. And right there you decided that even if it was going to suck when the wedding was over, at least you would have had this week. You followed Sam back to the car still laughing, and he didn’t let go of your hand.

Gramma Lilith was on the driveway when you finally pulled up, hands on her hips, white skirt billowing in the wind, and possibly more botox in her lips than the last time you’d seen her. “Took you long enough!” she was shouting before either of you had gotten a car door open. Not that it mattered; you could hear her shrill voice anyway.

You and Sam both hastened to the backseat, pulling out bouquets and potted flowers in an attempt to placate her. It only served to bring Ruby outside to stand beside her grandmother, both of them snipping at you while simultaneously complimenting Ruby’s choices. It made your head ache just listening to the two of them.

“Ruby, the cakes should go in the fridge,” you tried, holding the boxes out to her in the hope that it might motivate her to actually do something instead of watching you.

“So what are you waiting for?” your sister asked instead. You sighed, trekking into the house with the cake boxes and sliding them into the fridge, thanking the heavens for small mercies that there was enough room without having to also play Tetris with the food.

You got back out onto the driveway just in time to hear your grandmother turn her attention to Sam. “Are you where my salad went, boy?” she asked shrewdly, hands on her hips.

Sam froze, halfway out of the backseat with a pile of flowers in his arms. “Well,”

“Gramma,” you hurried to interrupt, but she wasn’t having it.

“I don’t care,” she went on, still looking at the moose-in-the-headlights. “But I do appreciate straight answers.”

Sam swallowed and straightened up, arms still full of purple flowers. “Yes ma’am. I was...hungry.”

You had been valiantly biting your lip through the entire exchange, but between his awkward reply and the look on your grandmother’s face, you burst out into a fit of giggles, diving into the backseat hastily to cover it up with more flowers.

Lilith humphed, her eyes flitting between you and Sam. “You don’t deserve someone like her,” your grandmother informed him, having evidently decided he was alright. And all of you knew that she meant it in that Sam deserved better than you, but he just smiled and caught up to you in front of the car.

“I know,” he said, and then he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, crushing the flowers between you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. It was surprisingly heady, tinged with desperation as Sam devoured your lips, tongue sliding and teeth clashing once in his haste. You were drunk on it, on him, reaching your free hand up to tangle in his hair as you rose up onto your tiptoes, trying to fight the height difference, your audience completely forgotten. No one had ever kissed you like that before.

And then Sam was pulling back, eyes almost black as he stared at you but somehow keeping his composure as he moved to finish taking the flowers into the house like he hadn’t just kissed you senseless.

Ruby and Lilith looked equally stunned at the display, and somewhere in the back of your brain, you remembered that that was why he’d done it, that it was all part of a show and that if you were a real couple, you’d have kissed plenty of times already. But as you stood speechless in the driveway, all you could really think about was him. There was no way you’d survive this wedding.

tags: @vicmc624, @thebookisbtr, @alicedopey

#supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #x reader #reader insert #supernatural #spn #series

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eternaltohrment · 4 years ago

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Tohrmented Dreams

Wellsie, my beloved Shellan stood before me, her stomach rounded, our unborn son nestled inside. I listened to my Nalla as she spoke to me about the large order of apples that she and Sarelle had cancelled for the upcoming solstice festival. Now that the Lesser’s knew what the apples were for, it was too dangerous to our species to go ahead with the festival as planned. Other arrangements were to be made and Wellsie and her niece would be visiting Bella’s mother Madalina, for advice on what options we could use which would not be as transparent.

My pregnant Shellan flitted around the kitchen, chattering and gathering things up like a whirlwind and I stifled a laugh. I loved it when she was this energetic and happy. It had been a while since we had celebrated anything as a race and she was putting in some serious effort to make sure our traditions were renewed in the grandest of fashion.

I looked at my watch and sighed, I needed to get up to the Brotherhood compound, I had a shit ton of paperwork to wade through relating to the new trainees and we had a catch up meeting with Wrath and the other Brothers too and Wrath would pitch a fit if I was late.

I pushed away my partly drunk coffee and caught Wellsie and enveloped her in my arms, I buried my nose in her flame locks and breathed in her scent deeply before spinning her around to kiss her. “I have to run Nalla, got to go get things set up for the training programme and stuff up at the compound, but I won’t be home late, ok?” Her eyes twinkled and she nodded, telling me I better be home for Last Meal or she and John Matthew may just eat everything. I gave a playful growl and swatted her ass as she returned to her task.

Grabbing the keys to my car from the console next to the door and stepping outside into the chilled evening, I mentally plotted out my night. Getting into the car, I grinned as the engine purred to life. Yes, I could dematerialise to the compound, but where was the fun in that? With a quick rev of the powerful engine, I peeled out of the drive, sinking my foot on the gas I sped away to the Brotherhood’s mansion and training grounds.

Hours later and a stack of paperwork that resembled a mountain demolished to a small peak, I pushed away from the desk and stretched my frame. I had absentmindedly been rubbing at my chest for an hour or so. A dull ache had formed and I assumed that I had maybe over done it in the gym earlier with JM. But the pain grew sharper to the point that it felt like a sharp knife had been driven into my chest. Leaning over, I used the wall as a support, my arm bracing my frame I stood rubbing my chest more vigorously than before. The pain was growing worse and I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.

After about an hour of the pain growing stronger, I’d had enough. I was going to go to the PT Suite and see if Doc Jane, Manny or even Ehlena was doing the rounds, get this checked out. But as I made my way to the door a rumble of thunder echoed in the hallway outside my office, the thunder was drawing closer. Except it wasn’t thunder, it was the sound of 7 pairs of shit kickers pounding down the corridor, pausing outside my office door, followed by a deafening knock on the door. I stumbled my way to the door, a slick sweat covered my brow brought on by the pain in my chest.�� Having the Brotherhood at my door and the constant throbbing ache in my chest, this couldn’t be anything but bad news. Images of Wellsie flooded my mind, our first meeting, our mating ceremony, her needing, the night she told me she was with young, the night JM came home with me.The memories ran through my mind in a loop. I put my hand on the handle and opened the door slowly. Wrath’s huge frame filled the doorway and as I looked over his shoulder I could see Phury, Zsadist, Rhage, Butch, Vishous and John Matthew all standing behind him, eyes full of pity and sorrow.

Wrath’s usually gruff and no-nonsense tone was gone, replaced with one more suited to console a friend. Tears stung my eyes and I wiped them away fiercely. One by one my brothers stepped into the small office until they formed a semi circle in front of me with JM right in the middle, tears freely streaming his face. One look at his face destroyed me, I knew right then that my Shellan was lost to me forever, but was the baby gone too? “Wellsie?” My voice was hoarse with tears, JM nodded slowly he made to take a step toward me but I shook my head. “Baby?” He didn’t even have to answer, the wave of grief was overwhelming. A roar of anguish ripped through every fibre of my being and the room fell instantly cold. At that moment, I could no longer bear to see the distraught faces of my Brothers, or of anyone else. I wanted to be with her, be with them. I had to get out of here. Squeezing my eyes tight, blocking out everything around me I focussed enough to be able to dematerialise out of the room, hoping to escape this torture.

Opening my eyes into the darkness, I took a few calming breaths. I moved my arm slowly and felt a slight form nestle in closer to me. Autumn. The nightmare that had been losing Wellsie had plagued me for a year or more, it receded slowly once Autumn came into my life and slowly began to heal me inside and out. But with the loss of the Queen so fresh, the nightmares had returned. My once beloved Shellan had returned to torment my dreams.

I had to talk to Wrath, I was the only one who had any chance of getting him through his grief, but shit, that was not going to be easy for either of us. But my Brother needed me and I wasn’t about to abandon him the way that I abandoned everyone when I lost Wellsie.

#TohrmentedDreams #EternallyBound

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thepoliticalpatient · 4 years ago

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Sick again, part 4: Bureaucracy Hell

This is a photo of the 3 sharps containers I currently possess. AbbVie, the drug manufacturer, sent me 2 for some goddamn reason. And Caremark, the specialty pharmacy, also sent me one. Everything about the process of obtaining specialty meds is a nonsensical bureaucratic nightmare and I thought this photo of my absurd number of sharps containers exemplified that pretty well.

It took 28 days between when my doctor and I decided I needed to be on Humira and when I actually got my hands on it. I keep thinking how lucky it is that I’m not sick worse than I am. Do you understand how much an untreated Crohn’s flare can escalate over the course of a month?

It took 28 days of my very best efforts as a person with a pretty damn high level of competency in navigating the American healthcare system, to get my meds. I cannot imagine what this is like for anyone who is newly diagnosed and not yet experienced in this shit. Or even just for anyone who isn’t a complete fucking nerd about healthcare.

The first barrier was that my insurance company requested a prior authorization - that is, a bunch of paperwork my doctor had to fill out to convince them that I actually need the medication before they will approve it. My insurance company has every motive in the world to prevent me from getting access to this med; it will cost them $5,000 a month.

The prior auth ate up about 2 weeks. Then came wrestling with the specialty pharmacy, which for my insurance is Caremark. Getting my first dose of Humira to actually arrive at my local pharmacy took....about 6 or 7 calls with customer service?

At one point, I thought everything was all set, because when I logged into my Caremark account online, I saw an order for Humira that said it was expected to ship the next day. When the next day came and went and nothing had changed, I called them. The customer service rep said something something insurance, ICD-10 codes, and had to put me on hold to call my doctor.

Folks, if there is a problem with your order, your specialty pharmacy will not proactively reach out to you to make you aware of it. It’s on you to stay on their asses about it.

When she came back 30 minutes later, she said it was all set, and told me it would arrive on the 30th. I was happy and hung up and walked away from my phone for 2 seconds and when I came back I had a robot voicemail from Caremark telling me I had to call them.

When I called back I had to go through a phone tree to tell them why I was calling, (a little hard when you actually have no idea why you’re calling), and when I got a human I was put on hold for awhile more and when she came back she said she couldn’t figure out why I had gotten that voicemail because everything was fine with my order.

There were several days where stuff like this happened over the course of those 2 weeks.

I should have had a copay, but when I picked it up from the local CVS that Caremark shipped it to, they just.....didn’t charge me. I pointed out that I was supposed to have a copay but the pharmacist didn’t know what to do about it. I mean, there are worse problems to have, but I’m still half convinced that Caremark is going to send me to collections over that $5 someday.

There are just....layers and layers of absurdity to the process. There exists both a caremark.com and a cvsspecialty.com and I had to make an account on both but they have all the same data. Why????

I assume that refilling an existing prescription will be much easier than getting it for the first time. But here’s the fucking kicker - next month will probably be just as hard as this month, because it will be technically a new Rx, because the dosage is higher in the first month.

And if I change jobs or my employer decides to stop contracting with my current insurance company, I’ll have to do it all again, this time with the added stress of knowing that if it takes me too long to wade through this sea of shit and I’m late on a dose, I might build up antibodies and become immune to the medication forever!!!!!! 🙃

#healthcare #bureaucracy #specialty pharmacy #insurance #biologics #humira #personal post

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eternallyboundfamily · 4 years ago

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Tohrmented Dreams, written by @EternalTohrment

After about an hour of the pain growing stronger, I’d had enough. I was going to go to the PT Suite and see if Doc Jane, Manny or even Ehlena was doing the rounds, get this checked out. But as I made my way to the door a rumble of thunder echoed in the hallway outside my office, the thunder was drawing closer. Except it wasn’t thunder, it was the sound of 7 pairs of shit kickers pounding down the corridor, pausing outside my office door, followed by a deafening knock on the door. I stumbled my way to the door, a slick sweat covered my brow brought on by the pain in my chest. Having the Brotherhood at my door and the constant throbbing ache in my chest, this couldn’t be anything but bad news. Images of Wellsie flooded my mind, our first meeting, our mating ceremony, her needing, the night she told me she was with young, the night JM came home with me.The memories ran through my mind in a loop. I put my hand on the handle and opened the door slowly. Wrath’s huge frame filled the doorway and as I looked over his shoulder I could see Phury, Zsadist, Rhage, Butch, Vishous and John Matthew all standing behind him, eyes full of pity and sorrow.

No, it couldn’t be true, the pain in my chest intensified as I could feel the intense sorrow flowing out of each of my Brothers, growing to the point where I thought my heart would explode right out of my chest. I shook my head firmly. “No, Wrath. Do Not Say It!” I tried to make my voice steady and calm but there was a distinct tremble of fear tainting each word. Wrath took a step toward me, his arm held out to make contact with mine but I stepped back out of his grasp. “Tohr….Brother.” Wrath’s usually gruff and no-nonsense tone was gone, replaced with one more suited to console a friend. Tears stung my eyes and I wiped them away fiercely. One by one my brothers stepped into the small office until they formed a semi circle in front of me with JM right in the middle, tears freely streaming his face. One look at his face destroyed me, I knew right then that my Shellan was lost to me forever, but was the baby gone too? “Wellsie?”

My voice was hoarse with tears, JM nodded slowly he made to take a step toward me but I shook my head. “Baby?” He didn’t even have to answer, the wave of grief was overwhelming. A roar of anguish ripped through every fibre of my being and the room fell instantly cold. At that moment, I could no longer bear to see the distraught faces of my Brothers, or of anyone else. I wanted to be with her, be with them. I had to get out of here. Squeezing my eyes tight, blocking out everything around me I focussed enough to be able to dematerialise out of the room, hoping to escape this torture.

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thestcryofus · 5 years ago

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About mun: What are your top 5 fave ships to rp & why?

Choosing just five is impossible! So, this post is going to be one big gush session. You have been warned.

These are in NO PARTICULAR ORDER, so no one get their panties in a bunch.

Swanfire: This was one of the first real ships that I fell in love with in Tumblr rp and it is still an OTP. Swanfire has and will always own a very special piece of my soul. For one thing, my Neal is so different because although he’s from the show, I have put so much time and effort into his backstory that to me, he feels like an OC, and his relationship with Emma is something that I really cherish.

RoyalKnight: Listen...Abigail and Frederick are soulmates, okay? And Once Upon a Time did not do this couple justice! Where was my reunion after the damn curse broke? WHERE WAS THEIR FREAKING HAPPILY EVER AFTER? All Abigail ever wanted was her knight!

EvilCharming: Yes, I know, the majority of the fandom is probably all for Snowing. And I’m not anti-Snowing by any means. But, I just love the idea of Regina and David and there are so many ways for it to play out.

Chalex: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN? I shipped these two since day freaking one. Whether it was Michael and Erica’s chemistry or something else, idk. But, something about Charlie and Alex drew me in. And despite everything, I never wavered in my faith in them. While the show progressively tore my heart out, I love that I have this avenue to explore what should have happened.

Roy/Thea: So, initially, I was hesitant about playing Roy because I wasn’t altogether confident about my ability to play him. But, as I played him opposite @tigereyesmuse‘s Thea, not only did it become easier, but I began to develop a love for Roy/Thea that I didn’t know I had. While watching Arrow, my main focus had always been Olicity, so while I liked Roy/Thea, they’d never really been a focal point for me. But, now they’ve truly become an OTP.

Darhkatom: When Nora Darhk came into the Legends universe, I really had no idea that I was about to get a new OTP. The moment Courtney and Brandon shared the screen, it was electric. It’s interesting because sometimes off screen couples have no on screen chemistry, but these two have it in spades. And I just knew this was something special. Over the course of a season, I was hooked and soon they were OTP status. Ray brings out a softness in Nora, and Nora helps Ray loosen up a bit. They balance each other out.

Alura/Zor-El: I didn’t know how much I would love this ship. They make me cry, they make me smile, they make me hurt. I feel a full range of emotions. I just love them so freaking much. I want to know everything. I want to explore their backstory, how they met, how they fell in love, etc. I’m kind of obsessed. :P

Lois/Clark: In all verses, Lois and Clark are all heart. I have always loved them and I always will. I think what I love so much about the Clois dynamic is that Lois is very much the anchor for Clark. She’s what keeps him grounded, and she’s his rock. The one who reminds him of his humanity.

Steve/Julie: Steve Rogers is the all-American boy scout. Committed to his duty to his country, he never thought that anything would make him think twice. But, Julie does. She often makes him feel torn and its difficult. I love the angst because Steve hates hurting her, and he hates putting her in the position where he has to leave, but he also knows where he’s needed and sometimes you have to make difficult decisions.

Tony/Violet: Tony’s dynamic with Violet is different. I feel like Tony tends to be more of the early Tony where he was still kind of an ass, lol. Which is kind of fun. Yet, she also brings out the playful side of him at times.

Lois/Hunter: These two used to be so full of angst, because Lois was a huge idiot. But, I think we finally decided to give them a break and let them actually be happy for once. Hunter was, for the longest time, the one that got away. The one that Lois could never shake.

Clark/Lucy: When it works, it works. Of course, Harper and I never have had a ship that hasn’t worked. Lmaoo. We’ve had one we screwed up but we don’t talk about that trainwreck. XD Anyway, Clark and Lucy are epic and somehow they manage to make it work, even if she is a Lane, and he has to deal with one Lane at home and one at work. Poor Clark.

Tony/Pepper: Pepper brings out the softer side of Tony Stark. He never really saw himself as the type that could settle down and be happy with one person, but then he met Pepper and she flipped his world upside down.

Andy/Prue: WE WERE SO CHEATED! Andy/Prue deserved so much better and I love that I get to rp them and let them be happy and have the life, love and family they deserved to have!!!

Flynn/Eve: If you have not seen the Librarians, go watch right now! Also, it ended far too soon. Also, Evelynn are soulmates! That is all.

Maria/Michael: They are so freaking epic and I just want to cry okay? I mean, everytime I rewatch the original Roswell, I get so many feels. They are so freaking just ughhh, I love them!!

Janet/Eddie: October Road ripped my heart out, stomped all over it and had a party. But! Then, the ten minute series finale mended it!

Zoe/Wade: So, here’s the kicker. I hated Wade for the longest time. I was a huge Zoe/George fan. It took me forever to finish Hart of Dixie because I was mad. Lmaoo. But, I stuck with it, and I actually ended up liking Wade a hell of a lot more than even Zoe, because of his character growth. And now I will go down with this ship!

Logan/Veronica: LoVe is everything! EVERYTHING! I was a Veronica/Logan shipper from the beginning, and I always will be. These two are soulmates, and they will be together until the end of time!

#[out of stories]#//yeah i think this turned into 18 lmaooo #tigereyesmuse

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gracieminabox · 7 years ago

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Yeah, I’m not usually the person to start sharing this, but for all the reproductive justice blogs I follow I’m hearing crickets about Jane Doe’s case, so here you go.

In case y’all are unaware, the Trump administration is barricading a 17-year-old’s access to abortion.

This gets complicated as fuck, so stick with me:

Jane Doe is an undocumented minor currently in federal custody in Brownsville, Texas, right on the border with Mexico. Reports are that her family of origin is abusive. She is pregnant and has, in no uncertain terms, voiced a desire for termination. Because Texas is a state with parental consent laws for minors seeking abortion, she had to apply for judicial bypass - essentially, that’s where a minor goes before a judge and testifies as to why obtaining parental consent is impossible or would put her at grave risk of physical or psychological harm - to waive the parental consent law.

She obtained the judicial bypass on September 25.

Texas also requires patients seeking abortion to have a consultation with the performing physician a minimum of 24 hours before the abortion is to be performed. She made arrangements to do so.

Officials of the Texas Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) took her to an anti-abortion crisis pregnancy center instead, where she was subjected to anti-choice propaganda and misleading information about abortion itself and the people and places involved in its performance.

Still, she wanted the abortion. The government refused to transport her to the clinic, saying that they do not have to “facilitate” an abortion. (The Obama administration ruled that they did; the Trump administration struck that ruling down back in March.) Her guardian ad litem voiced ready willingness to take her. They still wouldn’t release her to her guardian.

There has been back and forth in the courts, with appeals, overturns, more appeals, temporary restraining orders, and a whole lot more bullshit, for the past several weeks.

And today, October 20 - nearly four weeks after this woman obtained her judicial bypass - a federal appeals court agreed that HHS has no legal obligation to “facilitate” an abortion by releasing someone in their custody to obtain one. The Trump administration argues that this does not constitute an “undue burden,” which is the litmus test that forms much of the foundation of Roe v. Wade.

(Which is, of course, fucking bullshit.)

The court has decreed that she must find a “sponsor” to “facilitate” her abortion and has set a deadline of October 31, eleven days from now. If that day comes and goes and no sponsor has been found, then the lower court can, again, order the government to release her to the clinic, and the government can, again, appeal it, and this whole shitshow starts again.

Here’s the kicker: Jane Doe is, according to the reports I’ve read, currently 17 weeks gestation (15 weeks conceptually). The closest clinic to where she is in Brownsville - in McAllen, about 45 minutes away - is unable to provide abortions after the end of the seventeenth week (fifteenth conceptually).

If she gets a sponsor and can get to the clinic on October 31, she’ll be eighteen and a half weeks (sixteen and a half conceptually) - too far for a procedure at her closest clinic.

Texas altogether stops providing abortions at the end of the twenty-first week (nineteenth conceptually). Praytell, what happens if we put her through this bullshit for another month?

Here’s your answer: HHS officials are, according to some reports, frequently asking this woman what she plans to name her baby. (Did you just almost vomit? Because same.)

One option that has been suggested by the courts is that she return to her abusive family in her country of origin to obtain her procedure. While that’s a shitty idea for many reasons, at least one of those reasons has nothing to do with returning to an abusive situation: If we assume her country of origin is Mexico, which I do based on where she is currently being held, then abortion access is largely relegated to illegal practitioners and many states explicitly prohibit abortion. In Mexico City, the only place in Mexico where the procedure is legal on demand, the upper limit is twelve weeks, which she has long since passed. The only way she’s going to get an abortion is if she does it in the United States.

Not an undue burden my fat ass. Failure to release her to the clinic to obtain her procedure constitutes a pretty goddamn massive burden. They have already delayed her procedure into the second trimester, and it’s not going to be long before they’ve delayed her into “too late” territory, which is their obvious intent.

Tl;dr - the Trump administration is blocking an undocumented minor and abuse survivor’s access to a procedure that is explicitly legal in the United States and is throwing out some magnificently shady tactics to do so.

Be up in fucking arms about this. I am.

#pro-choice #reproductive justice #abortion access #justice for jane

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 7 years ago

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Ivonne’s 12 Days of Deadpool V.2, #5

Vol. 1 masterlist Vol. 2 masterlist

The floor creaked somewhere downstairs and you stilled in your bed, tossing the covers off and grabbing the gun from inside the nightstand. You quietly crept toward the door, which was opened, and slowly walked down the hall, stopping at the door closes to the stairs. Moving to peek into the room, a loud crash had you running down the stairs - gun held up in a ready position.

All the lights were off and a muffled voice grumbled from the living room, so you beelined it and saw a figure next to the Christmas tree, a large sack next to them on the ground.

“You fucking Grinch,” you growled, angry that someone had the nerve to break into your house. “Turn around asshole.”

The figure whipped around at your order and started talking, but your heart raced when the burglar started to walk to you. With a mix of motherly instinct and fear, you pulled the trigger once, yelping as the they fell to the ground, landing next to the tree.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” you cried out, rushing over to the lamp next to the couch. You turned it on and glanced down at the gun in your hand, eyes slowly moving to the body on the ground.

“OH MY GOD!”

Your heart jumped a beat when you saw your husband, dressed as Santa, sprawled on the ground, moaning and groaning as he started to sit up.

“Jesus Christ.”

Wade pulled off the Santa hat that was placed over his Deadpool mask and threw it to the ground.

“Wade,” you moved to him quickly and helped him up, asking if he was okay.

The merc tore off his mask and pointed to the bullet hole in his chest, which was slowly closing up.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grabbed the gun from your hand and holstered it on his hip. “That shit packed a punch aaaaaand now I’m turned on.”

“Babe, what the hell were you doing breaking and entering?”

“BREAKING AND - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!”

Wade shook his head and pointed to the bag on the ground. “I was being old fat St. Nick.”

Your eyes snapped over to the ground to the presents that spilled out of the bag and you laughed, “Well, shooting your husband the night before Christmas definitely puts me on the extra naughty list.”

Wade’s eyes lit up and he pulled your body against his and you grinned when you felt his hardness pressing against you.

“Hello, tiger,” you purred, bringing your hands around his neck.

“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll tear that ass -”

“Mom, Dad?”

Logan stood at the foot of the stairs, his little sister on his back carrying her favorite Spider-Man plushie.

Wade sighed and pushed you away.

“Little cockblockers,” he muttered, walking over to the ground for two presents. “Hey kiddos, sorry for the noise, Mommy decided to shoot me.”

“Wade,” you warned, walking over to the pair and grabbing Amelia off her brother. “Sorry for the noise, let’s get you back to bed..”

“Sugar buns, let them open two presents, ain’t gonna kill them, unless you plan on shooting them too..”

“WADE,” you sighed loudly and leaned down to kiss Logan on the head. “Dad is kidding, come on, I guess two presents won’t be so bad, but it’s up to bed after, okay?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, running over to Wade, who moved to the couch holding up the presents.

“Here kid,” he tossed Logan the present and smiled as the boy snuggled up to him.

You chuckled and asked Amelia if she wanted to open her present too. The toddler nodded, so the two of you settled next to Wade and Logan.

“And this one is for my future ass kicker,” Wade said, giving Amelia her gift.

The two started ripping away at the wrapping paper and you looked over to Wade, the world’s most unlikeliest father - a perfect one. You made eye contact with the merc, whose eyes narrowed when you blew him a kiss. He reached out to the air to catch it and tucked it into his suit.

You laughed and winked at him. “Later?”

Wade smirked, holding up his hands in a lewd and obscene gesture. “You bet your sweet ass.”

#Ivonne's 12 Days of Deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool imagine #wade wilson imagine #deadpool #wade wilson #marvel imagine

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pedulum-chronometry · 6 years ago

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SPN dream

So I had this dream where Sam and Dean were like unapologetically well adjusted and actually did stuff together. Like the dream was just the two of them going on this long ass trip to like New Jersey, I think, to find and harvest clams for pearls. They just romp through this sort of wooded area by a stream with a bucket to find and harvest clams for pearls because, this is the kicker, Sam wants to give Jess a pearl necklace as an engagement present. This boy instead of buying a necklace, decides he wants to find the pearls himself and have the necklace made. Like Sam, so extra.

Dean bitches about how much effort this is “We go hunting every chance we get on top of working normal jobs and I think this is too much effort” Dean worked as a mechanic and was super salty that they could’ve been hunting but was also 1000% on board with the idea because he brought the bucket.

They run into a group of demons masquerading as a gangsters meeting in the woods and like choose to ignore it because “that’s not what we’re here for” but it backfires ofc. So they hunt the demons down eventually after they won’t leave them alone. They wind up blessinng like a lake or pond in the woods and use it to drive the demons away but then it turns out that’s where the clams are.

So then Sam, worn out and dirty from a hunt, enthusiastically wades into the water, like the giant puppy dog he is, to retrieve the clams, while Dean just looks on super exasperated but kind of proud too from the shore.

Like this was the most wholesome dream. Jess was still alive and the boys weren’t fighting or ready to die. They just went on a weirdly specific road trip because Sam is super romantic and of course Dean is going to go along with his plans. They turned down hunting at first because of the people and things that matter most to them, like I kind of want to cry now. How wholesome, how well adjusted, how beautiful.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dream #this was some fanfic shit #fanfic #so awake me now wonders if the resulting necklace was blessed or had supernstural powers #Sam!!#why are you so extra #My junk

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welldresseddadblog · 7 years ago

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Welcome to the 13th instalment of the “Garmsman Dozen” question and answer session. The response so far has been tremendous. Did you miss earlier ones? There are links at the end of the page.

This week we welcome to the Garmsman Dozen Christopher Laverty from Great Britain!

Who are you, where do you live and what interests you?

Christopher Laverty. York, UK. 40 years old.

Author of book Fashion in Film, broadcaster, creator of website Clothes on Film and costume consultant.

Twitter: @clothesonfilm, Instagram: @lordlaverty, @christopherlaverty, Facebook: @clothesonfilm.

I enjoy movies, decent TV, clothes, clothes in movies, clothes in decent TV, bourbon, pipe smoking, cigars (preferably Cuban), cocktail making, cycling, running and twirling my moustache.

Thinking back to your childhood, what were your most memorable or favourite clothes?

Honestly, I don’t remember much of my childhood. Controversially I don’t many of us really do, we just piece together memories from what we’re told and photographs. With that in mind, I’ll go to my late teenage years when I first remember becoming interested in clothes. It was the mid-late 1990s so a lot of pale, shapeless denim jeans worn way too long with thick, oversized shirts and suede Kickers. This is probably why I gravitated toward the vintage scene which at this time was big on 1970s retro revival. My favourite buy was a tan leather trench coat, probably from the late 1970s, made in Egypt with a Selfridges label. It was immaculate. I purchased for £25 from Covent Garden market and still have it today. I don’t wear the coat much as it’s a little on the nose these days and verging on dress up, but at least it still fits! I do come from a family interested in clothes, particularly my dad. I was born to older parents (they are in their late eighties now) and with an older brother (now 60) and sister (53). I was spoilt rotten. Apparently, I even had a tailored coat, which to a working-class family is quite a fancy thing. My appreciation of clothes comes from understanding how they are made, their design, influences and appropriateness to the era. This is all born in me I think.

How would you describe your style today, and what are your influences?

It’s one of two things depending on my mood, time of year, facial hair and hairstyle: 1) denim and workwear, Edwardian influenced to 1930s OR 2) 1970s lounge with flared three-piece suits. I like to change things up because I get bored easily. It does have to be a specific look though – I have to feel that it ticks certain boxes, although saying that I do loathe the idea of sticking rigidly to eras or historical accuracy. My main influence for the 70’s is television programmes such as The Persuaders! and The Professionals and films such as Fear is the Key and Carlito’s Way. For workwear, it’s more print-based influences, like old photographs of miners and ranchers, but also films like The First Great Train Robbery and There Will Be Blood. I pull from wherever I like, really. Again, it’s not rigid; I’m not a re-enactor, I’m just someone who enjoys a period-specific feel to their dress.

How do you think others would describe your style and garments, do you get any reaction from friends and random strangers?

Totally, though a lot of that comes from random moustache admirers/hecklers. I don’t mind, so long as it’s polite. People will always point out what is different and, if I’m honest, I get a kick out of it. I think my friends just list random people they consider could be associated with my look – I’ve had everything from Shaft to a Spitfire pilot. It’s all good fun unless you choose to be offended (which I don’t because life is far too short to be cross and moaning all the time).

When looking for clothes, what factors play into your selections?

Need, mainly. I don’t really seek out any clothing unless I’m specifically short on something, like a henley t-shirt or new pair of boots. Most clothes come to me, in that I might stumble across a charity shop find or somebody acquires a shirt or whatever they think I’d like. I don’t really pay full price for anything. For example, I bought some suede chukka boots by Alfred Sargent last year, but only because they were offered to me by a friend who’d found them (in immaculate condition I might add) in a charity shop. I certainly didn’t need the boots but I’ll not turn my nose up at a bargain. I love clothes, though my wardrobe is actually quite capsule. I think there’s nothing worse than just buying willy-nilly and ending up with so much gear you can hardly store it all. This actually diminishes sartorial creativity in my view.

When putting together an outfit combination, do you spend a lot of time considering it?

Not really. I think I know what works and just go with that. I’ll plan more if it’s an occasion outfit but for every day I just grab what I like depending on the weather. Putting together an ensemble can be fun, but I do think if you take too long it becomes fussy and convoluted. If in doubt, take it out.

Most garmsmen will have a few “grail items” in their collection. Not to out you, but if your house is burning, which garments do you grab?

Probably my RM Williams boots. They are Craftsman Yearling, the finest boot RM Williams make in my opinion and they work with almost any outfit. I purchased on eBay nearly a decade ago for about £100. The leather is cracking a tad now but I couldn’t be without them. That said, I wouldn’t burn alive for them either so this better be a fairly mild fire we’re talking about here.

Photo by Ben Bentley

Are you budget-conscious or spendthrift? Are you a single-shot shopper, or go large and buy bulk? Where are you on slow-fashion and buying less?

I’m not spendthrift, even less so if I’m buying for others. If something fits and looks great and I can afford it and need it, I’ll buy it. I do like things that are in a sale or reduced though – it just feels more fun to make that purchase. In this respect, I wish I could support more artisan brands but they are just too rich for my blood. The sad thing is I know that the guys running these places and making these clothes and footwear are just getting by as is. If I was rich I’d probably shop with an eye toward supporting homegrown brands, but as things stand whoever can give me what I want for the best possible price is going to get my money.

Having a large collection of clothes can lead to changing outfit on a daily basis, but if you were going to wear a single outfit the next two weeks, what would it be?

My go to is probably a green ribbed cotton henley (from H&M), Marlboro leather and canvas braces (charity shop), Levi LVC 1878 jeans (eBay) and my RM Williams boots. This outfit suits just about every occasion, unless you want me attending your wedding or something. It’s comfortable to travel, work, socialise and chill in. Simple but effective in my opinion.

What would you never wear?

That’s a tough one. Basically, anything that looks awful on me, so very baggy trousers or jeans (I’m a short-ass), super-tight muscle tees (they are hilarious even if you have the body) and chunky hi-top trainers (love them on other people but I look like a failed hip-hop artist). Oh and baseball caps. Every time I put one on I look like I’m dying of some disease.

Photo by David Wade

What are your best tips for buying?

If you’re talking specifically about buying for my look, either workwear or 70’s inspired, then I’d say eBay, charity shops and vintage fairs. Got to be patient though and realise that, in the main, if you’ve found a bargain, someone else has too. People know their stuff a lot more these days so everyone has their eye out. For basics, I find H&M hard to beat. It’s not the highest quality and sometimes their stores are saturated with desperately on-trend crap, but in general, for easy tees and shirts, they are a goldmine (plus have lots of year-round sales).

Do you have a dream garment you’d love to own?

A few years ago I would have said a Savile Row suit but I think I desired one for the wrong reasons. It was a case of wanting to say I’ve had a suit cut on Savile Row rather than wanting the garment itself. I must admit I have always hankered after a beautifully tailored flared leg suit from the 1970s. I have a couple of off-the-peg examples but I’d love one bespoke. Suits of this era with that distinctive cut, the high waist, flared leg, high double vents and pagoda shoulder are not impossibly hard to find, though ones made from high-quality wool suiting are. Also, I’m a sucker for LVC Levi. I’d buy most of it just to hang on my wall and salivate over.

Anyone that buys clothes will have made mistakes, what is your most memorable bad buy?

Loads! When I used to buy more and think later I grabbed many a mistake. Possibly my worst was a pair of loose Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, from eBay if I remember correctly. Not sure what look I was going for. LA surfer, possibly? Or maybe just asshole. Either way, unsurprisingly, they didn’t work.

Do you have any style icons, historic or current?

Most of the looks I covet are from films so were put together by costume designers rather than the stars in question. Then again, stars and icons had stylists back in the day and they have stylists now. Cary Grant always nailed it. James Coburn could rock the Ivy. Nowadays Sebastian Stan constantly looks interesting without going too bananas (he has a brilliant stylist and an easy to dress bod too, mind). My elderly dad has a wonderfully open love of bright colour, which I admire and is daring for a former market trader from the East End of London. ‘Be more like him’ I often think.

Who are your favourite Instagram profiles?

What you mean apart from @Welldresseddad??? 😉 I like all the sartorial based accounts I follow. Two, in particular, indulge my passion for high-end workwear denim that I can’t afford: @kingchung501 and @vorstenbos. Anyone who doesn’t take it all too seriously, basically.

How do you think trends such as denim and heritage style will evolve and survive? What will be the next big thing?

I think more and more people will get into making their own clothes. We are not there yet, and I certainly don’t presently have the skills, but big picture I feel this will get easier and easier to do in our own home. Sustainability is a big trend and not going anywhere – and really it can’t afford to. Denim especially will go down this route. Like I said we are a way off, but with current textile innovations and online communities, it is coming.

Thank you!

Thank you for your Garmsman Chris!

Photo by David Wade

Did you miss the first Garmsman Dozens?

Jon from Great Britain

Shaun from Scotland

Klaus from Germany

Roland from Italy

Daniel from Sweden

Enoch from the USA

Even from Norway

Kris from Belgium

Michael from Great Britain

Liam from Great Britain

Lee from Great Britain

Iain from Great Britain

Michael from Italy

PS: If you have suggestions for participants, let me know. Or have your mother suggest you, if you’re a bit keen to suggest yourself. My email is WellDressedDad (@) gmail.com

The Garmsman Dozen #14: Chris from Great Britain Welcome to the 13th instalment of the "Garmsman Dozen" question and answer session. The response so far has been tremendous.

#christopher laverty #Denim #film costumes #garmsman dozen #men&039;s style #mens fashion #menswear #workwear

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surflove808 · 7 years ago

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All things “queerbait”, “so gay”, cranky shippers, etc ad infinitum. Here’s my long-ass essay on why I think it’s destructive to this show and fandom mentality in general. Part 1 :D

This is going to be sooo long. Because I am sooo fed up with the bullshit I keep seeing on here. So, I am going to break this into 2 parts. Part 1 deals with the show and its FICTIONAL characters. Part 2 will deal with the actual actors involved in making this show. I'm pissed because what could have just been supposition and discussion among fans took a wrong turn somewhere, and turned into a forum for bullying and scandalizing the actors/show. And seeing that even when they try to have a sense of humor about it, or be ingratiating to the fans about it, it always backfires on them....and ultimately, something that should be harmless (a ship) has become a toxic force of nature.

I'm going to give my 2 cents on the most annoyingly common misconceptions that I've seen being used as more can(n)on fodder because if I post and get this reblogged enough, maybe, just maybe... more people can be exposed to a more balanced interpretation.

My problem is not with the possibility of Dean being gay/bi. My problem is not with Dean and Cas possibly exploring a romantic relationship. Not at all. My problem is with the dedicated and rabid group of people that have gone over the top with their harassment on public forums regarding these characters sexuality, and linking it to the real, live human beings that portray them. Both crossing and blurring lines in a very destructive way, on Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, you name it... This show has so many incredible themes and messages regarding friendship, love, loyalty, trust, perseverance and family and THAT'S your takeaway? An unhealthy obsession with Dean's sexual preference??

Dean, by virtue of his looks, charisma and personality, has chemistry with almost EVERYONE. Have you noticed?? The character of Dean is written and portrayed as a naturally charismatic, flirtatious and sensual person. He wholeheartedly dives into anything that he enjoys. Eating, hunting, fucking, drinking. He doesn't seem to really appreciate boundaries or restrictions. So, what's stopping him from exploring his sexuality with men?

As far as I can see, the character of Dean as originally conceptualized and executed brilliantly by his frigging creator, Eric Kripke, was then, as you see him now, many things. But also hetero. He's also accepting, scarred, goofy, resilient, co-dependent, loving, protective, the list goes on and on.

But what he is NOT and has NEVER been written as, is gay or bi. And if you have a problem with that, that’s not a flaw in the program you’re watching. That’s your problem. If he undergoes character development that radically redefines not only how he sees himself, but how the viewer sees him, after 12 years? That's a delicate task that I don't envy the writers having to undertake, considering, the only reason they would do that so late in the game, is because they caved to pressure from the "fandom". And I use quotation marks there because, if you want an iconic character to represent your views? Write them yourself. Create them. But don't try to bully your way into another persons creation. Here's the kicker. Out of 264 episodes that have aired so far, and countless canon instances of Dean being hetero.... here are the handful of examples that certain people have latched onto as gospel:

1. Dean and the Siren, season 4, episode 14, Sex and Violence: I can't tell you how many times I've seen some Jr. detective go "A-HA! Deans siren was a MAN! Therefore, he is GAY!" If you use just a smidge of deductive reasoning and pay attention to the season leading up to this episode, and the description of a siren that was helpfully included in the episode, you could easily and reasonably deduce that because a siren's powers of seduction come from the ability to be ANYTHING to ANYONE and be that persons greatest desire.... that it makes sense for the siren to take the form of a cool, non-judgemental, trustworthy younger brother-type who has the same taste in and love for music that Dean has. Someone he can relate to. A peer.

What do you get the man who can have almost any woman that he wants?

Not a stripper, folks.

And what does Dean really want? At this point, he wants a brother who trusts his experience and instincts. A brother that he can trust. A brother who doesn't feel like a complete stranger. A friend, for fucks sake. It's not implied. It's not a theory. It's literally written and discussed IN THE EPISODE, people. Move on.

2. Dean and Gunnar Lawless, season 11, episode 15, Beyond the Mat: If you know any guys who are into sports or bands, and have never seen them go batshit fanboy over one of their sports or music heroes...then you just haven't spent enough time with them on their turf.

3. Deans "gay thing", season 8, episode 13, Everybody Hates Hitler: If you've never been hit on when you weren't expecting it, especially by someone you weren't expecting it from, I could see why you couldn't comprehend his behavior. If you HAVE, you were probably flustered by it. Probably didn't react as smoothly as you thought you would, amiright? I know I haven’t.

It seemed he was flattered, but didn't know what to do with himself. If he were bi/gay, and attracted to the possibility of a no-strings hookup with a willing and anonymous stranger... a blow-and-go in the mens room, for example... I think Dean could/would have easily pursued it, based on his hit rate thus far. The one area in which he has 100% confidence and zero shame, is sexual conquests. Sam wasn't around. There was nothing holding him back. So, aside from being uncertain of how to extricate himself from an awkward situation, and being flustered, I got nothin’.

4. Dean and Dr. Sexy, season 5, episode 8, Changing Channels: Not much to say here. Dean clearly had a man crush on Dr. Sexy. Would he have boned him if given the chance? Maybe. Maybe not. Ask a guy friend who idolizes Aaron Rogers or Eddie Vedder (for example) if he'd let them stick it in his pooper based on principle alone. Chances are, that guy friend would probably say "Hall pass!" If the situation actually presented itself though? He might just gush over the guy and call it a day. Who knows? WE don't.

5. Dean and Crowley: Again, ask a guy friend if he would share a room and triplets with a buddy if there were no consequences (girlfriend, things getting "weird, etc), and see what he says. The answer may surprise you. Maybe I just know a lot of uninhibited, sexy bastards!

6. Dean and Benny: Brothers in arms who go through intense combat together can and more often than not, DO form close bonds. There was nothing in this friendship that even intimated at these two having any sexual or romantic designs on each other, yet.... people still try to make it work. Bless their hearts.

7. The Big One: Dean and Cas: Dean has had countless opportunities over the years to make a move. And I DO believe he loves Cas, very much. Cas clearly loves and admires Dean. They have been through some serious shit together since day one, that neither Sam nor anyone else can compete with. But some very good advice I heard once, applies here (and this is why the 10-year crush turning into romance in rom-coms is such bullshit): If someone likes you - you WILL know. They will make a move. Or you will. And neither of you will take 10 + years to do it if there are no barriers (significant other). And if a move is made and not reciprocated? It's not because they or you is holding something back. That's just a lie we tell ourselves. SOMEONE is just not interested.

Though I love their dynamic, I'm not a Destiel shipper, but I'm willing to go either way with this one. I will say, I don't by any stretch of the imagination think the writers, actors or directors are 'queerbaiting", though. That's like accusing a crush of leading you on when it was really in your head the whole time. Their chemistry is incredible. But from what I've seen with my eyes, in the actual episodes, his relationship with Cas does not say unrequited love, sexual attraction or romance. However, if I went by the slowed-down, out-of-context gifs that are prevalent on Tumblr, I could see where people get the idea. And because these are two men who love, admire and respect each other and sometimes bicker like an old married couple, I suppose that makes them different than us and our best friends, somehow? This makes me sad, because this is a unique show, in that it deeply explores mens relationships with one another (because they're human beings too), and they just can't do that without a group of immature people giggling behind their backs in the hallways because intimacy is so intimidating that it must be mitigated by making fun of it or spreading nonsensical theories about it. Right?

Small wonder that heteronormative men, as a general rule, have so much social conditioning and shame to wade through when it comes to expressing love and care for their same-sex friends and family. (Yes, men have problems too. Not as many as us, by a long shot. But this is one of them)

You see, menfolk are expected to behave in a manfolk way, and if their behavior isn’t within the traditional and narrowly defined parameters as “hetero male”, they face the perceived stigma that accompanies “coming out”, which involves the very real fears of supposition, persecution, politicizing, backlash, gossip, undermining. etc.

This show has taken many chances. And they’re not afraid to write for and represent LGBTQ characters. But Chuck forbid that emotionally resonant, well-written, vulnerable and emotional male characters exist AND allow them to be straight. Unthinkable! And that snarky, gossipy, “tee-hee” mentality is just what enforces rigid gender roles on men and women in the 1st place. Every post I see that giggles about Cas and Dean being gay for each other because....gifs...just throws us back 50 years. Your words do have meaning, people.

If you want to know what you can do to pave the way for LGBTQ representation in entertainment and the world at large? Take the small step of acknowledging that same sex characters can feel the same range of emotions that you do for your same sex friends. Can have sustained eye contact. Can love one another, and can tenderly care for one another without you sexualizing it, fantasizing about it and policing it. I’m asking you to think about this, because this way of thinking affects everyone. Gay, straight, etc.

Season 1 Sam and Dean: Hetero. Sam in an LTR at beginning, Dean with potential to re-enter his relationship with Cassie.

This show was marketed towards males in the 18-24 demographic, but curiously, more women are interested in these boys and their story. Because they’re allowed to care without judgement. Ahem.

*As seasons go by...* Clearly, judging by the polls and hate mail...neither brother can ever have or sustain a romantic relationship with a woman. EVER again!* And it as been widely acknowledged by the cast and producers that the fans don’t want to see the Winchesters spend too much time with what they deem as a threatening female.

Why do you think Castiel was even allowed to make it this far? Sure, he’s an amazing character. But if it were Anna who dragged Dean from Hell and ultimately stuck around? Yeah, no. That was never gonna happen.

Basically, these fuckers can’t win. If they’re hetero and stay hetero, that’s a bad thing. If their characters do a 180 to please the most vocal (unfortunately) fans - then they’re caving in to pressure.

Either way, I think it's safe to say, us fans are ultimately invested (I hope) in these characters achieving happiness, wherever they find it. And personally, I'll be happy either way. But seeing this hyperbolic, over the top bullshit online that this crew are queerbaiting, etc...and that "If Destiel isn't made canon, I'm gonna do X,Y,Z..." is disgusting to me.

The musings, wishful thinking and conspiracy theories are one thing. And that's perfectly fine. I’ve got nothin but love for fanficiton writers! But drawing parallels and conclusions from some of the flimsiest crumbs available, and using that limited intel to cajole, threaten, bash and attempt to shame the actors, the crew, and the producers who work their asses off to bring us this amazing show, is pretty fucking shitty in my opinion.

These aren't public servants, guys. We're not paying them to make this show. If you want to know how a show on the CW gets funded and made - google it. If you want to know how much of a time crunch/pressure cooker situation the writers are working in, not to mention the entire team in order to produce 23 episodes per season....again, google it. And then tell me how they're able to not only craft compelling episodes and cram so much storyline, exposition, dialogue, character development, arc support, scheduling, casting, art direction, stunt coordination, set design, etc ad infinitum into each and every week, and STILL have time to drop easter eggs, and "queerbait"....

Just. To. Fuck. With. You. And undermine LGBTQ efforts at representation? They are very kind and loyal to their fans. And we DON'T OWN THEM. If you don't like what you're seeing, don't watch. But for fucks sake - do the fandom and yourselves a favor and direct your crusade towards ACTUAL threats to LBGTQ freedoms and rights.

Here's a list of places to lend support (to name a few): Family Equality Council Human Rights Campaign GLAD PFLAG Transgender Law Center Your local congressman, FFS

Rant over. If you made it this far, thank you. I owe you a fruit basket! And feel free to engage, put me on blast if you want. Let's have a discussion. But if you agree with me at all, please reblog this.... just to give some folks another point of view.

Blanket statement for those who are offended and have already called me an ��asshole”, etc on their own tags:

1. This is NOT by any stretch of the imagination an anti-shipper or anti-Destiel post. I clearly stated that I don't have a problem with either. And if it happened organically in the show, as opposed to under pressure? More power to them. And I do adore Castiel.

2. This is NOT an anti-LGBTQ post. Again, clearly stated throughout the post.

3. This is NOT and never was anti-headcanon post. We all have headcanons to some degree. And If anyone wants to step up and tell me not to support an organization that's doing good work, just because I sunk their battleship... they can suck it. I also belong to some of these organizations, and I'm pretty sure they're not as invested in your headcanon as you are. And thejabberwock, I still admire your insights and posts, but am bummed that you missed the damn point of mine entirely. Per your request, I have removed your association from the original post.

4. This IS an anti-harassment post, directed at individuals who have taken this ship so far, that they've tainted the word and the concept for almost everyone else with their shitty, pushy behavior. If this describes you? I'm happy to have offended you.

5. This IS an anti-ignorance post, directed at individuals who are presented with facts and reliable data from the writers, the actors and the episodes themselves, yet refuse to acknowledge anything out of their own headcanon. Who insist on "knowing the truth" and using that arrogance to try to *Out* the characters, *Out* the actors and use threats and insults towards anyone who disagrees. If you thought I was talking to you directly, after reading that? I probably was.

6. This IS an anti-misinformation campaign post aimed at clearing up some common misconceptions.

Lastly, reading comprehension is really crucial here. I know it was a lot to read, I apologize for that. But if you're skimming through and picking and choosing something to be offended over, and continuing to feel personally persecuted regardless of whether or not that's the reality... rather than reading and understanding the entire message? Well, there's nothing more I can say or do.

#destiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #crowley #supernatural #spnfamily #spnfandom #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #fedthefuckup #queerbaiting #fuckingwafflehouseidontcare #wafflehouse?#cockles #imcomingforyounext

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tacoeatingmerc · 3 years ago

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[I spanked your sexy tight ass as you got out of bed. I then got up putting my shirt on as I already had my pants on since well long story short, me and @gunsnchimis were one person once. Several years ago Juggernaut ripped us in half. I was the legs and he was the torso and head. So the legs regrew the rest of the body and that's why I look like People's Sexiest Man Alive and Wade 1 looks like and avocado fucked an old avocado. I got up getting my swords and guns then went over by you as you were speaking.] It fuckin better not be. Otherwise we're gonna be doing what all the X-Men have never done. Fuck all day and night. And yeah I'll get the kid and goopy alien man. [Gets out my phone calling @chimisnswords.] Hey there my little shit kicker you and Alien Goop get down here we got a mission and bring Pinkie Pie and Ripley too.

@spunkylilarrow

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solnyshko-moyo · 7 years ago

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Liability

Prompt: Based off of Lorde’s Liability.

Pairing(s): Steve x reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of death

WC: 5636

A/N: I’m not too familiar with the X-Men storyline, so bear with me if there are a lot of inaccuracies.

The team is gathered in the conference room going over an upcoming mission. The mission involved infiltrating a nightclub rumored to be run by hydra. Steve is debating with Tony who should be going in and who would be the lookouts.

Tony wants to go inside, mainly because the nightclub has exotic dancers. Steve thinks Tony should be air support outside of the club. “Tony you have little to no training in hand to hand combat. You can’t wear your suit inside or change into it quick enough if needed.” Tony slumps in his chair knowing Steve has a point.

“Me, Bucky, Nat will go inside, Wanda and Scott will watch the door. Tony and Sam will provide air support, Clint is going to watch the side streets from the roof. Bruce is down the street with the van running intel.” Steve shuts his folder and moves to stand up.

“What about me?” You ask wondering why you are being left out. Peter you understand, he’s a kid and you are going to a glorified strip club but you? You can help.

“You are staying behind.” Steve says firmly, setting his jaw when he sees the bewildered expressions of the team.

“Why? I can fight, I can help.” You might not have a power that would contribute to the mission, but you aren’t useless. You know how to fight, and damn well too.

Steve doesn’t hesitate when he says, “You’re a liability.” The room is silent. Natasha’s eyes go wide, Bucky closes his eyes and shakes his head, and Tony for once is speechless.

You stand there staring back at an unwavering Steve. You nod your head a few times, taking in the fact Steve has so little respect for you and your capabilities. You never knew he thought so little of you. “I understand, I’m a liability,” You say back to him, impressed your voice doesn’t waver. “Sorry for the inconvenience then.” You turn on your heel and walk calmly out of the conference room.

You’re angry and hurt. You’ve given everything to this team since the day you joined. You’ve done everything that’s been asked for you, you put your teammates before yourself, and you’ve saved all their asses more times than you care to admit. But the kicker is that Steve Rogers, the man who somehow stole your heart sees you as a burden, or how he put it, a liability. You set your jaw as the elevator door slides shut and begins to ascend to your floor. You are a strong woman, and you'll make him regret those words by showing him exactly what you give to the team by not giving any more. You’ll go somewhere where you’re appreciated and wanted.

You throw some clothes into a backpack, not worried too much about what you’re grabbing. You fill your backpack with the things you can’t live without. Pictures, a book, and your grandma’s necklace you keep safe on your dresser. You shoot a text to your buddy Scott Summers that you are coming back to X Mansion for awhile.

“FRIDAY no one is to enter the elevator until I get off.” You tell the IA as the elevator begins to descend to the main lobby. You don’t bother answering the receptionist as you exit the tower through the lobby. They're gonna watch me disappear into the sun.

You know the team will be notified immediately, so you waste no time in hailing a taxi and telling the driver to take you to Time Square. You know how to disappear, you aren’t an idiot. You don’t have much money since most of it is on a credit card or in the bank. So you’ll steal a car and drive it halfway to the mansion and have someone come pick you up.

It’s Bobby who comes to pick you up in Eastchester. You haven’t seen him in years. You were a few years older than Bobby when you were last at the mansion. “Y/N! Scott sent me to come pick you up.” Bobby calls out his car window. You smile and jog over to where he’s parked.

“Bobby! Or should I call you Iceman now?” You tease as you pull him into a hug across the center console.

His laugh rumbled in your ear, and he shakes his head. “Bobby will do just fine, Shadow Lotus.”

“Ugh, no one’s called me that in years… I don’t think I’ve missed it.” Shadow Lotus is your ‘superhero’ name, given to you since you manipulate plants. You thought Poison Ivy was cool, even if she’s a villain in the comics. You get where she’s coming from, wanting to be left alone with her plants in an untouched place, not all the killing. You hate how people are destroying the earth.

It’s late when you finally get to the mansion, the sunset long ago and you’re exhausted. Bobby almost turned the car around to refreeze Steve when you told him what happened. If this is how Bobby reacted, then you really don’t want to see how Scott reacts.

The team watches in disbelief as you walk out of the room. For one, they can’t believe Steve said that and for two you didn’t even stand up for yourself. Natasha knows damn well you could have kicked Steve’s ass right then and there and no one would stop you. She could tell you were hurt, everyone could.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Natasha yells, the first one to break the silence. Steve doesn’t even try and tell her to watch her language because he’s still staring at the door.

“I did what I had to do.” Steve sighs, your face had been carefully guarded after the second of shock after he called you a liability. But the hurt in your eyes wasn’t as easily masked.

“Not sure that’s the best way to win over the girl,” Bucky mutters leaning back into his chair, looking at Steve disappointedly.

“You’re telling me you’ve had feelings for Y/N and you call her useless?” Natasha clenches her fists together and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “You’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

“I had to keep her safe. I can’t risk something happening to her, and this is a dangerous mission.” Steve holds his hand up before anyone can cut in to defend you. “I know she can handle herself, but she’s not on Hydra's radar. She’s powerful. She could cover a city in plants in less than a day if she wanted. You’ve seen her room, she did that in a matter of minutes.” Steve remembers when you first got to the tower. He showed you your room, and in minutes you had all but covered it in ivy and flowers. He had watched mesmerized as you set a small potted plant next to your window, and without moving a muscle, you had made the plant grow. Vines of ivy snaked along the walls and wrapped around the ceiling fixtures and framed the doors. It was beautiful to watch.

“She’s anything but a liability, but I can’t let anything happen to her.” Steve rubs his hand over his face, he messed up, and he knows it.

“Y/N is the best thing that happened to this team. No one would let anything happen to her Steve.” Wanda crosses her arms and glares at Steve with the intensity of a thousand suns.

“You should apologize before this gets too out of hand,” Clint suggests, he loves Y/N. She’s always asking about his kids and wife.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers and runs his hand through his hair.

“Sorry to interrupt but Susan at reception has asked me to inform you that Ms. Y/L/N has left.” FRIDAY’s voice chimes through the ceiling.

“What do you mean left?” Several voices ask at once.

“Ms. Y/L/N has taken a bag of belongings with her. She requested no one enter the elevator while she rode to the lobby and walked out the door.” FRIDAY responds dutifully. “Surveillance cameras in the front last saw her getting into a taxi.”

“Well done Steve. I hope you're happy.” Natasha gets out of her seat and stalks to the door.

“Y/N has many friends in New York alone. She could have gone anywhere.” Wanda sighs, finding you would be hard.

“FRIDAY pull up her phone, see if it can be tracked,” Tony asks pulling out a tablet.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, but GPS is turned off on Mr. Y/L/N’s cellphone. Last known location was Avenger’s Tower.” FRIDAY responds earning a groan from Tony.

“Watch her credit cards and if her GPS turns back on let me know right away,” Tony instructs. Finding you would take more than a miracle.

“How many friends does she have in the area?” Tony asks Wanda, hoping you would choose one close which would be the most convenient for you.

“She has a friend that lives in the Bronx, Wade. She’s also friends with one of his buddies, but I don’t know where he lives. And she’s got some friends in midtown I think.” Wanda racks her brain trying to think of where you would go. She only hears about people from your stories of before your time with the Avengers.

“She said she doesn’t want her friends on shield's radar if they aren’t already,” Clint interjects. He understands and respects her for it. He tried for so long to keep his family hidden and if Y/N wanted to do the same he wouldn’t pry.

“This is all my fault,” Steve whispers and hangs his head. If he hadn’t been so selfish and trusted his team to protect each other, Y/N wouldn’t have left. He vows to himself that when he finds you, he will make this right.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were back, when did you get here?” Storm pulls you into a hug when you wander into the kitchen the next morning.

“Late last night, Bobby came and picked me up.” You hold on to the white haired woman for dear life and try to hold back the tears. You are stronger than crying over a boy. You didn’t want what Steve said to affect how you live your life.

Storm pulls back to take your appearance in, and her smile fades as she notices the dark circles under your eyes and the tears threatening to spill. “Honey, what happened?”

“It’s nothing. It isn’t important.” You smile, trying to brush off the impending conversation. She doesn’t believe you, and you know it.

“If it’s nothing then why do you look so sad?” Storm smoothes down your hair, she hates seeing you like this.

“I kind of quit being an Avenger.” You give her a sheepish smile when her eyebrows shoot up and disappear into her fringe. “Well, I left without telling anyone, and I don’t really intend to go back anytime soon.”

“Why? What happened?” Confusion laces Storm’s voice. She doesn’t understand why you would leave.

“They are getting ready for a mission, and Steve sat me out but when I asked why he told me I’m a liability. I’m a little much for everyone. I get it. Sometimes I let my powers get the best of me. So instead of arguing, I left and came back to the people who understand.”

“You’re so much better than any of them. If they can’t appreciate you, then they don’t deserve you.”

“It just,” you choke back a sob, “it hurts so much. I loved Steve. I thought he liked me enough to consider me his friend. I love him so much, and apparently, I mean nothing to him.” You can’t hold back the tears any longer. Your vision blurs, and you feel the hot liquid running down your cheeks.

Storm pulls you back into a hug and holds you tightly. Scott, who had heard from Bobby what happened, races into the room. He sees you and Storm embraced tightly and sandwiched you between them. It breaks his heart to see you like this. He and Storm share a look, both silently vowing to show you how much you mean to everyone at the mansion.

After your tears are dry and you’ve calmed down Scott leads you outside. You wonder where he’s taking you, but you don’t fight him. As the greenhouse comes into view, you smile remembering how much you loved spending time in there when you lived here. As you get closer, you notice it’s different than how you left it. Well of course it is, it’s been years since you’ve lived in the mansion.

“We tried our best to take care of it, but we weren’t as good with it as you were.” Scott smiles sheepishly as you take in the state of the plants. Most of them are alive still, they just aren’t as vibrant or perky as you left them. A lot of them need a good pruning and bigger pots, but for the most part, they are alright.

“You did well. At least they aren’t all dead.” You punch Scott’s arm lightly earning a chuckle from him. You walk through the rows, assessing the damage and making mental notes of what you’ll need to pick up from the store. Mostly bigger pots, the rest you could do yourself.

You spend the day in the greenhouse taking care of the plants. Talking to them as you prune, coaxing them to stand up taller as you water, resurrecting the dead plants with soft strokes. Even though you could have done all this without so much effort, you liked taking the time to give each plant the attention it needs. You could have easily manipulated the plants to be exactly how you wanted, but taking the slower route because it gives you something to do.

You’ve been at the mansion for a week before a mission is getting organized. It’s like deja vu as you look through the file you are handed: infiltrating a Hydra base. This time though it’s a warehouse that is supposedly holding a mutant hostage.

“Alright, we are planning on going in with the element of surprise. Storm and Colossus will take the back, Warren, Jean, and Bobby the roof then work your way down. Hank, Y/N and I will take the front.” Scott points at the blueprints of the warehouse as he assigns partners and bases. “There are two floors above ground but, underground is unknown. Bobby, Warren, and Jean go for information on their computers as soon as you can. Y/N and I will find the girl they are holding. Storm, Colossus, and Hank keep the building clear and if you need backup Bobby will help.”

“Do we know where they are keeping the information and girl?” Jean asks not taking her eyes off the blueprints.

“First floor is likely a cover floor. Probably going to store a few vehicles and crates. The second floor is probably going to be where the information is kept based off of other hydra buildings. The testing labs and cells will be underground.” You chime in, this isn’t your first rodeo in Hydra bases.

“We leave in twenty. Get changed and meet in the garage.” Scott stands from his chair and talks with Jane over the blueprints.

You realize you don’t have a field suit with you, only street clothes. So instead of going to your room, you head to Storm’s. She lets you borrow one of her suits, even if it’s a little tight. You are shorter than her by a couple of inches but more muscular from your time with the Avengers. The suit is a lot tighter than you normally wear, but it doesn’t hinder your ability to move around.

The warehouse looks abandoned from where the team is hiding in the bushes. The windows are blacked with dirt, and the paint on the walls is peeling off in layers. If it weren’t for the tire tracks leading up to some garage looking doors, you would have believed no one’s been here in years. Thick vines of ivy creeping up the sides of the building congregating near the windows. You watch as your vines cover the windows in thick layers, sealing away all the possible exits. The only ones that don’t get covered are the front entrance, back entrance, and the roof. The Hydra agents would be trapped inside.

The group splits into three, each subteam moving closer to where they will enter the building. At exactly 7 o'clock sharp, each team enters the warehouse. The element of surprise is on your side. The Hydra agents are milling around playing cards. Before they can open their mouths to yell about the intruders, you shoot vines of ivy at them, pinning them to the ground and strangling them with the vines. Scott and Hank stand next to you in shock, they had no idea you were even able to do something like that. The vines had shot from the dirt ground, but there was a basement under them, they had always thought a plant had to be present for you to manipulate it, but here you are conjuring up plants out of nowhere.

Footsteps scuffle in the dirt approaching where you are standing. Two more agents are coming to see what the noise is, stop in their tracks at the sight of their buddies on the ground covered in vines and dead. They begin to pull their guns out, but before they can do so, you slam them against the wall with more ivy vines. You walk past them with Scott and Hank following close behind you leaving the two men struggling to pull the tightening vines away from their necks before they end up like their friends on the ground. You walk into the main room at the same time as Storm and Colossus. Sharing a brief nod when they alarms start blaring alerting the Hydra agents of your presence.

The room floods with agents as you and your teammates spread out. Electricity cracks in the air, and you can hear Scott’s laser zapping somewhere to your left. You summon thick blades of grass from the ground, catching agents feet and pulling them to the ground. You pin them by their arms and legs to the ground with the grass, they grunt and trash around trying to free themselves. The grass begins to creep up their neck lightly choking them. You can see the fear in their eyes as they feel the grass begin to tighten around their necks. Their thrashing gets more violent as you move past the dozen or so men on the ground to keep fighting the next wave of agents.

Scott jogs over to you amidst the melee and pulls you toward the basement stairwell. Most of the agents are upstairs fighting the rest of the team. You and Scott take out the stragglers quick and easy as you make your way through the tunnels. You pass the testing labs and kill the ‘doctor’ in charge before you make it to the cells. A lot of them are empty and unused. There was a guard hiding in one, and Scott rolled his eyes and slammed it shut. You left it locked, not caring if it was cruel. You didn’t come to sympathize with Hydra agents. You came to rescue the mutant they are holding captive.

The last cell in the block has agents guarding it. You and Scott do a round of rock, paper, scissors jokingly. You throw paper, but Scott throws scissors. You roll your eyes and don’t bother moving around the corner to be in sight of the cell door. The floor and walls are concrete, so it takes a little more concentration, but you manage to squeeze a few vines of ivy through the cracks of the concrete. You surprise yourself, you thought you were summoning normal ivy, but to your surprise when you and Scott walk around the corner it’s poison ivy.

If Scott noticed or has an opinion he doesn’t voice it, instead, he heads toward the cell door. Beaming the lock off, he pulls the metal door open and hesitates before stepping across the threshold. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We came to help.” He calls into the room. “We came to get you out of here.”

There’s shuffling in the room, but the prisoner doesn’t say anything. “I’m gonna come in, so you can see me.” You call into the room. You pause, waiting for her not say no, but when she doesn’t say anything you take a step into the room. “My name’s Y/N, and my buddy out there is Scott. We are like you.” You crouch down, mostly for show, and stroke the ground coaxing some daisies to break through the concrete. You shift to the side, so the light hits the flowers for the girl to see.

You hear light footsteps approaching you from the left and focus on keeping your muscles relaxed. A young girl no more than eleven crouches at the edge of the darkness. You can see the outlines of her features and wonder how long she’s been here.

“Are these real?” She asks lowly, reaching out a dirty arm to touch the petals.

“Yes, I can control plants. And Scott wears cool glasses over his eyes.” You don’t tell her why he does because you don’t want to scare her. “We came to take you away from here and these bad people.” You hold out your hand and give her a soft smile.

“I’m Kennedy. I can disappear.” Her arm reaches out to take yours. Once she’s holding your hand, she slowly steps into the light and practically glues herself to your side.

You and Scott make your way back up to the main area where the rest of your teammates are waiting for you. Warren and Storm are nowhere to be found. Bobby informs you they are getting the cars since they are the fastest. Apparently, Warren airlifted them and used the extra speed Storm gave him with the wind.

“Kennedy these are the rest of my friends. Jean, Bobby, Dr. Hank, and Colossus. They are all super cool.” You whisper the last part after you introduce everyone. She nods slowly and waves back at everyone, but doesn’t say anything. She’ll warm up, you’re sure of it.

“The Hydra base is supposed to be housing something powerful. We aren’t sure what, but we think it’s a prisoner.” Tony hands everyone their files as the quinjet lifts off.

No one’s head is really in the game, they are all thinking about Y/N. She seemingly disappeared once she got into that cab. Tony tried tracking it through cameras, but it’s like she got in but never got out. Steve though has been up to during all hours of the night trying to figure out where you went. Trying and failing.

The quinjet lands a couple of miles from the Hydra base, and the team begins the trek through the woods. The warehouse used to be used for lumber storage. The processing mill is about a mile from the warehouse. Neither has been used since the 80’s.

Nearing the building, the team ducks into the cover of the trees and bushes. The team takes a good look at the building, assessing it for weak points and possible inhibition. It truly does look abandoned. From the peeling paint to the ivy scaling the walls.

Tilting her head Natasha looks at the ivy more critically, it just doesn’t seem right. “Does the ivy look weird to you?” The team murmurs their agreements, but they let it go, nature is weird.

The team splits off Tony, Clint and Wanda make their way around the building. Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and Bucky stay crouched in their spot behind the bushes. Bruce hasn’t taken his eyes off the ivy. It looks thicker in certain spots and hardly any vines in others.

“Ready.” Clint’s voice crackles through the comms, “One, two, three. GO!” The teams slip through the doors ready for a fight.

But what they meet are dead bodies. Steve stops in his tracks causing Bucky to slam into his back. “Steve what-” Bucky’s words die out when he sees what Steve is staring at. Natasha and Bruce slip around the super soldiers wanting to see what’s going on.

“Y/N… she was here.” Steve whispers. He takes in sight before him in shock. Dead agents are laying on the ground with vines tethered around their necks. The looks of fear still etched on their faces and their hands are clutching the vines. A little further into the building there are two agents pinned to the wall with more vines.

“It doesn’t even look like a fair fight.” Bruce inspects the vines and gives an experimental tug to one. Even though Y/N is gone, the vines are still holding on strong.

“Let’s keep moving.” Steve doesn’t wait for the others to say anything before he’s moving through the room to get to the next. The room is silent, bodies littering the ground. A dozen or so agents are laying on the ground being restricted by long blades of grass wrapping around their limbs like thin ropes. Like the agents in the other room, they were strangled by the plants.

“It looks like she wasn’t alone. These are claw marks. Over here it looks like someone was electrocuted. Who was Y/N with?” Bruce examines the body he’s leaning over. The one next to this body appears to have frostbite.

Clint’s team walks into the room casually, weapons down and not appearing to be ready to fight. “The back is clear. Someone did our job for us.” Clint shrugs, the missions a bust.

“Yeah, Y/N did it for us.” Steve sighs, “She’s already been here.” Clint raises his eyebrows at the grass tied agents.

“Let's split up then and clear the building? We can go upstairs and see if they left the computers intact and you go downstairs and see if there’s anything good.” Tony suggests taking the face part of his mask off. Steve nods and begins to make his way to the stairs.

There aren’t as many bodies down here, and only some of them look like you killed them. Their light footsteps echo the halls, stopping only to peer into empty cells. Steve approaches the agents who are slumped against the ground with poison ivy wrapped around their bodies. Blood is splattered on the wall where it looks like each agent was slammed against before sliding down the wall. Whether they died of strangulation or blunt force is unknown.

“Y/N did this?” Steve whispers, he can’t believe you were capable of something like this. He never thought your powers could do this. He knows your powerful, but you summoned a poisonous plant through concrete. It’s left him reeling.

“Her powers are manifesting stronger than before likely due to a stressor. I’d have to look at her DNA and run some tests, but that’s likely the cause.” Bruce looks over the bodies as well as he can while staying clear of the poisoned leaves. No one says anything, but they all know what stressor Bruce is referring to. Steve hangs his head in shame, it’s his fault all this happened.

“Hey, guys we found the surveillance. Come take a look.” Tony says through the comms from upstairs. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Bruce make their way back through the building and up to the second floor where the others are.

The team watches you approach the building with some men, a furry blue beast looking man and a man wearing weird glasses. They watch as you make your way through the building killing Hydra agents with minimal effort. The Hydra agents didn’t stand a chance against you let alone the team you were with.

“I don’t recognize any of the people she’s with, but all their suits have matching X logos on them. It’s not hard to guess she went back to the X-Men.” Tony leans back in the chair letting the video continue to play. The team continues to follow you as you move through the building. Eyebrows raise as you will the ivy vines to kill the last two guards. Tony was right earlier when he said he thought it might be a prisoner being kept here.

“Why didn’t I think she would go back to the X-Men. She grew up with them at the mansion.” Steve groans, the answer had been in front of him the whole time. How could he be so stupid?

“Because it was obvious. She’s hiding in plain sight, she knows we know where the mansion is but we don’t know where any of her other friends live. We focused on them instead of following up on the obvious lead.” Natasha’s impressed, she hadn’t thought of looking at the mansion either. Y/N probably hadn’t even thought that far into it, she probably just wanted to go home to her family.

You sit in the grass with your eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun like a sunflower. You’d been doing some thinking during your meditation. First why you had summoned poison plants back at the Hydra base. You figured it was just heat of the moment at the time, but the more you thought about it, the more you are unsure. Sure, you have a deep rooted hatred for hydra and what it stands for but is that the only reason for the poison? Ultimately they were going to die anyways, but it still bothers you. It was a fluke, you convince yourself, it won’t happen again.

You wonder if the Avengers are even looking for you. Probably not. You’re a liability to them. The truth is I’m a toy that they enjoyed 'til all of the tricks didn't work anymore, and then they are bored of me. You survived my usefulness to them, and they didn’t need me after that.

You push them from your mind. Instead, you think back to yesterday when you were in the greenhouse looking tending to your plants. Kennedy had followed you in, she had been sticking close to you as she settled in. You showed her how to take care of the plants and told her how you wanted to depot all the plants and put them into the ground. You explained the rotations you were thinking and how it benefitted the plants. She listened like you were speaking the gospel truth. It was endearing, and you were glad someone else appreciated plantlife.

You didn’t hear someone approaching until they sit down next to you. You don’t bother to open your eyes, you can smell his shampoo. “What are you doing here Steve?” You ask quietly and stay basking in the sun’s warmth.

“I came to apologize. I’ve been looking for you since you left. I’m so sorry Y/N.” Steve begins, he can’t put into words how sorry he is. “I never should have said that to you.”

“So why did you? How did you even find me? And how did you even make it through the mansion without someone trying to kill you?” You open your eyes and cast them down, you thumb one of the flowers that have popped up near you during your meditation.

“You guys didn’t erase the surveillance footage at the Hydra base. We came in a couple of days after you.” Steve trails off, his mind flashes back to the bodies you left in the clutches of your vines. You don’t say anything and continue to toy with the flowers. Steve continues, “I’ve been beating myself up about what I said.”

“You shouldn’t. You spoke your mind and said your opinion. If you wanted me out of the tower there were easier ways, but hey, what are ya gonna do?” You shrug, there’s no use in yelling at him anymore. That was never you, yelling didn’t solve anything. Talking it out sure, but saying hurtful things back to make yourself feel better isn’t your thing.

“I never wanted you out of the tower Y/N,” Steve says softly though he understands why you would think so.

“Then why Steve?” You don’t understand his game.

“Because I love you dammit!” Steve says louder than he intends to. This finally gets you to look at him. You’re eyebrows raised farther than humanly possible. Steve’s got a funny way of showing his love. He sighs, he’s going to have to tell you now. “I didn’t want you to go on the mission because I didn’t want to see you hurt. I care too much about you. I have feelings for you, and I know you probably hate me now. And that’s okay, I deserve it. I just- I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. For everything.”

You continue to stare at Steve in shock. He looks away, his cheeks burning and his heart in his throat. He hadn’t planned on telling you everything. “I love you too, you know. Even if you are an idiot.”

Steve jolts his eyes back to you, he looks like a puppy all full of hope. “You do?” He whispers not believing his ears. You roll your eyes and drag him down by his shirt collar. You place a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Steve places his hand on your cheek, thanking just about every god he can think of.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. “I love you Y/N, and I will spend forever trying to make it up to you.”

“I love you too Steve.”

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine

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