#gonna let the buyers have em for a while on their own though! they did pay for it after all lol

[braisedhoney]

all commissions officially complete and sent!! hell yeah!!

[hops-hunny]

You Can Be the Boss

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: N/A but it’s based off of this rambling here

Summary: Women are beautiful, but they sure don’t make ‘em like her.

Warnings: Weed, Alcohol, Mentions of sex.

A/N: I wrote this to cope with the copious amounts of work I had due but I finished it all so now we celebrate!

Hogwarts had many things but one thing it lacked severely was normality. Not that it was a problem, nobody who attended Hogwarts was normal but it didn’t stop a portion of muggle born students from feeling a bit homesick to things their muggle friends did at their own schools. That’s how the talent shows started. At first, the students tried to get it officiated by the school. Dumbledore thought it was a wonderful idea!....if it was professor supervised and when it turned out that Snape was the only professor with enough freetime on his hands, the idea of having it being school ran quickly flew out the window. But looking back on it now, many were happy they went with the idea of going behind the professors backs. It wasn’t like they weren’t aware, they just had no proof of it all happening. The atmosphere of the talent shows were different from ordinary talent shows, however.

For starters, anything went. Any talent you had you were encouraged to bring it no matter how big or small it was or if it was “school appropriate”. But the pro to this was also booze and bud, meaning that everyone had a good time no matter what. Although, as it would turn out there were many talented people at Hogwarts. So, for the past few months every Friday everyone would gather in the room of requirement, watching the many ups and downs of performances. Neville started frequenting there as often as he could. It was a win-win, his friends got free entertainment and he had a chance to make some money from selling to chumps with too much cash on their hands. What better way was there to spend the night? 

His hazel eyes snapped up at the feeling of his blunt being ripped out of his hand. He went to swear, glaring at whoever was stupid enough to do that but quickly stopped as he saw who it was. He watched with wide eyes as the tip of it went between her pretty (l/c) lips, exhaling smoke. (Y/n) (L/n). She was one of those girls you either knew or you didn’t but more than likely, you knew her. Before 5th year, no one so much as spared her a glance but after a very fortunate late puberty in their current year (7th) she was slowly becoming all anyone could talk about. It was truly amazing what a haircut and a bit of weight in your hips could do for your social life. He eyed her curiously as she looked down at him.

“You comin’ tonight?” she asked, exhaling another puff of smoke into his face. (Y/n) put the joint back in his hand, moving the heavy guitar case into her now free hand.

“Yeah. ‘Spose I am.” He mumbled, eyes trailing down the expanse of her plush thighs. They were on full display due to the skirt she wore that left nothing to the imagination. His eyes locked with her (e/c) ones as she hummed, nodding as she took the blunt back from him walking off. She flashed him a smile once more, winking as she turned the corner going merlin knows where.

“Oi! What does she think she’s doing? You really gonna let her take the blunt from you like that just because she’s fit?” Ron complained, glaring at the boy who was set with the rest of their group. Neville shrugged, turning his eyes back to his book as he turned the page.

“If you’re so bothered by it why don’t you go take it back yourself?” Neville sassed. They all looked at Ron waiting for a response, laughing as he had nothing to say but a small ‘piss off’ under his breath.

-----------------------------------------

Neville wasn’t one to put too much into his appearance. He’d usually just throw on a sweater vest over one of his uniform shirts and call it a day. However after the conversation he had had with (Y/n) earlier, he couldn’t help but wanna look nice. Was she flirting with him? He sighed as he glanced at his appearance in the mirror for a bit. ‘I doubt it.’ he thought. He shook the negative thoughts out of his head, packing his satchel with a few different strains. Just because some pretty girl was batting her pretty little eyes at him didn’t mean he was going to forget the reason he went to these things in the first place. The only other time Neville made this much money was Gryffindor common room parties and even then, it was only by a little.

But even as he was checking his appearance once again, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift. “Why am I wigging out? It’s not like we haven’t talked before.” He said out loud to himself. (Y/n) was a frequent buyer from him and even though he didn’t know her personally, she was one of the few people whose faces he remembered. At first, he was extremely annoyed by her. Who did she think she was showing up at his dorm at 3AM just to buy a bit of fucking jane? Every wednesday at the same time, she’d show up at his door (in a negligee that was far too short might he add) with that dopey look on her face asking to buy. And every single time without a doubt, he’d sell it to her. He had to admit, after a while he even started to enjoy the girl’s appearance. It gave him something to look forward to during his mundane school week.

“Ready to go, Nev? If we leave now, we can use a secret passage my brothers’ showed me.” Ron said, opening the door to Neville’s door. The lanky boy cleared his throat, giving the boy a nod as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. Without another word, they both began their way ready for the night to unfold.

As usual, the talent show didn’t disappoint...for all the wrong reasons. Even though the cringe worthy performances were top notch entertainment and he had already made quite a bit of money, he still couldn’t stop from searching the crowd for a certain head of (h/c) hair. Where was she? After the stunt she had pulled earlier, he was sure she would be here. She had some nerve doing that and then not showing up. However, as he turned his gaze back to the stage, he saw the woman of the hour herself. She was in an oversized crochet sweater dress and a pair of combat boots. His eyes looked up in wonder as she took the stage, sitting on a wooden stool that was placed from the last sad excuse of a performance.

“It’s a bloody shame that she’s so fucking hot. Poor thing is going to embarrass herself singing up there.” Ron said, taking a sip from the beer he had in his hand. Neville nodded in agreement, taking a hit from his blunt but not really paying mind to his friend. It was hard to do so when the girl of his dreams was on the stage a mere foot away from him. He was absolutely intoxicated by her (and the few shots he had taken a bit ago) but he had to agree it would suck when she-”

“You taste like the fourth of July

Malt liquor on your breath, my, my”

She sang into the microphone softly. Neville’s jaw dropped in awe at the sound of her voice which was nothing short of angelic. He wasn’t the only one who was stunned considering the whole crowd went silent, a stark contrast from the loud chatter and laughter from before. He watched as she strummed at the guitar in her hands, looking up from the ground into the crowd. Mesmerized wasn’t even the right word to describe the state he was in. 

“I love you but I don’t know why…”

His eyes were focused on her lips, taking in every word she said. Harry nudged him, mouthing the words ‘look up’ to him as a small pause had come into the song. Neville looked at him confused before trailing his eyes up, gasping when he saw that hers were locked on his own. She smiled and flashed him a wink before continuing her song, leaning in forward. His own body began to subconsciously drift forward to but at the last second she pulled away and continued to sing.

"Did you see that? She definitely wants me." Seamus boasted confidently. The others looked at him dumbfounded at the fact he could get even more idiotic than ever before.

"Don't be fucking dumb mate! She was clearly looking at me." Ron chimed in, causing another round of even more exasperated looks to be thrown the ginger's way. They truly were dumb and dumber.

"I-I think both of you are wrong. (Y/n) was looking at.." Harry trailed off as the girl stood up, dancing around the stage with her guitar as she continued to sing. Not a single pair of eyes weren't on her at the moment. Could you blame anyone? When a beautiful girl with the voice of a siren is on stage, you'd be a fool not to. However, dumb and dumbers’ argument ceased as she made very clear eye contact with their awkward friend.

“You can be the boss, daddy

You can be the boss”

“That’s all me boys.” Neville said, a triumphant smirk taking over his place as Dean leaned over to give him a fist bump. As much as (Y/n) had him wrapped around her finger, it appeared she was wrapped around his too. All the angry glares being sent his direction were only fuel to the pride he felt growing in his chest. Such a pretty girl, the same pretty girl who plagued all his wet dreams and shower thoughts, was not only on stage singing in front of him, but directly to him as well. She reached a hand forward, tips of her fingers lightly brushing against his flushed cheeks.

“I like you a lot, I like you a lot

Don’t let it stop”

“This is totally unfair. One of the hottest chicks in our year and she’s pining over Longbottom.” Seamus grumbled, grimacing as the liquor went down his throat hard. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“Jealous much?” he asked no one in particular, as that could be said about most of the guys they were sitting with.

“Bad to the bone, sick as a dog

You know that I like, like you a lot

Don’t let it stop”

Neville felt his own lips curl up into a smile at the sight of the one that belonged to the angel in front of him. However the cute moment didn’t last long cause once again, Ron chimed in with something else.

“Neville? Bad? He still sleeps in pajama sets!” he exclaimed quietly, earning a ‘shh!’ from Harry. The boy in question leaned forward, looking at his ginger friend.

“Is this really coming from the boy who needs Mummy’s howler to fall asleep at night?” that shut him right up. Harry snorted, high fiving him for bringing up the embarrassing piece of information. 

The girl continued to sing, eyes never leaving Neville’s for a second. Ron and Seamus’s petty comments had ceased as well. Even though they weren’t the one receiving attention, they could still admit the girl had pipes on her. When the song was over she stood up, bowing as the silence of the crowd quickly erupted in cheers and claps from the breathtaking performance. There were a few more people left but no one paid much mind to them. He found himself feeling bad for them. Even if they were good, none of them could top the performance of the night. 

As the night began to come to a close, (Y/n) found herself over to Neville again parking herself in his lap which he gladly accepted. She looked up at him, smiling shyly. It was almost comedic due to the words she had so sinfully sung to him only 45 minutes ago. Neville ignored the way his friends gawked at him. He’d deal with that another time.

“Come back to my room and split a spliff?” she asked, looking down as she picked at her fingers. He grabbed her hands, leaning in close to her.

“Only if I can eat your pussy afterwards.” he said confidently. He said it quiet enough to not draw attention but just loud enough that his friends would hear. (Y/n) felt her face grow warm as she nodded, hopping up from his lap as she dragged him off to her room.

Neville 1, blokes 0.

Extra:

“Seriously?! Is it really that easy? What does he have that I don’t?” Seamus said, mind running over the times he’d attempted saying things like that. The only place it had gotten him was on the ground after he had his balls kicked!

“It’s gotta be the weed. After all, who wouldn’t wanna sleep with the weed man? Free pot!” Ron exclaimed, trying to rationalize what had just happened.

“Aren’t you the residential booze man of Hogwarts? If that was the case, you’d have an easier time with women too.” Dean said, causing Harry to nod in agreement. Ron simply grumbled, slamming his empty bottle down as he walked off from the cackling group of blokes.

[fangirl530]

Baloo’s Lost Cargo

This is basically an AU where everything in Ducktales is the same, but all the Talespin characters are there (though they don't all appear here) and they're the same ages they were in the original. Like what they did with Darkwing when he first appeared! 

AO3 link

A couple months ago…

“I wonder why those archaeologists were so cagey about what we’re delivering?” Kit wondered aloud. Baloo shrugged.

“I don’t know, kiddo. All Becky could get out of em’ was that it was some kind of rock.” he snorted. “Imagine, paying for express delivery for a rock.”

“Come on Baloo,” Kit pushed. “It’s gotta be somethin’ more important than that- didn’t you hear who we’re delivering it to?”

“No,” Baloo admitted. “I sorta zoned out while Becky was lecturing me.” Kit rolled his eyes.

“It’s going to Scrooge McDuck, the-”

“The richest duck in the world?!” Baloo yelled, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s who this rock is goin’ to?!”

“Uh huh.” Kit glanced down at the map, grinning slightly at Baloo’s reaction. “And after that, we’re delivering those farm animals to-”

“Who cares about them, Lil’ Britches!” Baloo laughed, tussling the cub’s hair under his hat. “We’re gonna meet Scrooge McDuck!” Kit laughed with him, reaching up to shove the hat out of his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be-” the laughter dried up in his throat. “Pirates!”

“It’s gonna be pirates?” Baloo blinked at him. “Is that some new sort of slang?”

“No, Baloo! Pirates!” he pointed out the windshield. “Up ahead!”

“Whoa!” Baloo swerved to avoid the oncoming plane. “Hold on, Lil’ Britches, I’m gonna try to lose them!” as he turned, hooks sunk into the back of the sea duck, the radio crackled to life.

“Hello, Baloo and Kit Cloudkicker!” a voice said. “Prepare to be boarded by-”

“Sorry Don Garbage, I’m afraid it’s not a good time,” Baloo said. He and Kit laughed as the pirate gave a yell of frustration.

“It is Don Karnage! I am here to steal your cargo!”

Baloo smirked. “You mean these chickens?” he asked.

“Don’t forget the goat!” Kit added, snickering. Baloo grinned, glancing back at the animals in question. Their cages had broken open during Baloo’s turn, but the animals themselves were unharmed.

“Yeah- you’re welcome to em’, if you want them that badly!” he said cheerfully.

“No! I am here for the stone!” Karnage yelled.

“No can do, Karny!” Baloo said. “We’ve got a very important buyer who we’re supposed to be deliverin’ it to!” With that, he spun the plane to the left, taking out the planes attached to them and Karnage. As the flipped back right side up, both pilot and navigator laughed- neither noticing the flash of light behind them.

“You sure showed him, Baloo,” Kit said, grinning.

“Of course, no sky pirate’s gonna out fly me,” Baloo said with a smug smile. He glanced back again to check on how their cargo took the spin, and gasped.

“What? What is it?” Kit spun, peeking over the top of his seat. When he saw what Baloo had seen, he gasped too.

Behind them was- was-

“It’s a chicken goat!” Kit yelled.

“It’s hideous is what it is!” Baloo replied. “I don’t remember loading that on the plane!” The creature bleated and charged at him, pecking at him aggressively. Baloo screamed, shoving at it- only for his hands to get pecked violently.

“Get it off, get it off, get it off!” he shouted, scrambling for the Seaduck’s controls. He pulled a lever, opening the cargo door- and both the creature and the stone flew out of the plane.

Panting, Baloo closed the hold and turned the plane around.

“Baloo!” Kit protested. “The stone fell down on that island!”

“As far as I’m concerned, the chicken goat can have it! No delivery is worth bein’ attacked by that thing again!”

“Well, what are you gonna tell Miss Cunningham?” Kit pressed.

“I don’t know, Lil’ Britches- help me figure somethin’ out!” he chuckled. “She’ll never believe us if we told her the truth.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Kit admitted. “Okay, I’ll help you.” The pair made up a story to tell Rebecca when they got back, and tried to put the horrifying creature out of their minds.

…

As the plane came to a full stop, Della smiled at Dewey in a way which she hoped was encouraging.

“Not bad,” she said. “But maybe less crashing next time?”

“Agreed,” Huey said, stumbling up behind them and leaning against Della’s seat, a daze expression on his face.

“Less crashing,” Dewey agreed. “After all, I can’t be Dew-mazing if I just crash the plane! That’s Launchpad’s thing!”

“Not what I meant, but we’ll discuss that later,” Della said. She glanced at the building and grinned. “Look on the bright side, at least you got us to Higher for Hire! let’s get out of here and talk to the pilot that delivered the stone!” she opened the door and jumped to the dock, then turned and held out her hands for Huey.

“Oh my goodness!” A woman cried, running up to them as she pulled him over. “Are you all okay?!”

“We’re fine,” Della assured her, reaching for Dewey and pulling him onto the dock as well. “Right, kids?”

“Just a few bruises,” Huey confirmed.

“I told ya they were probably fine, Beckers,” a bear said, ambling out of the building. “I’ve had worse crashes than that and walked away without a scratch!” the woman ignored him, smiling at Della instead.

“I’m Rebecca Cunningham, owner of Higher for Hire,” she said cheerfully. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah,” Della said, eyes brightening. “We’re looking for the pilot- we need to ask about a delivery they made a while ago.”

“Was there an issue with the delivery?” Rebecca asked, her smile growing tense. Behind her, the bear winced. Della shook her head.

“No, we just want to know the status of the item that was delivered,” she said. “Where it ended up.”

“Alright,” Rebecca said. She glanced at the bear. “Baloo?”

“Right,” Baloo said, nodding. “I’m the pilot- could ya describe this item to me?” he asked them.

“Better, I can show you,” Huey said. He took out Isabella Finch’s journal, opened it to the stone of what was, and held it out to Baloo. He leaned down and peered at it.

“Yeah- yeah, that looks familiar.” he stood, rubbing his head. “Hold on, let me think… ah! Got it!” he snapped his fingers. “That stone fell out of my plane while my navigator and I were deliverin’ it. Hold on, I’ll go talk to ‘im and find out where it fell. Be back in a bit.”

He walked over to a yellow plane, and Rebecca gestured for them to follow her.

“While he talks to Kit, why don’t you all come inside?” she led them up to the building and went in, chatting with Della the whole way.

Dewey stopped at the window as they went in, a tv catching his eye. He gasped as footage of a young bear came on the screen. He was surfing the clouds on some sort of metal board, a wide grin on his face. ‘

“This can be my thing!” Dewey said, his eyes shining with excitement. He could just imagine it- surfing over the clouds, doing all kinds of awesome stunts, crowds screaming his name…

“Dewey!” Della called, snapping him out of his daydream.

“Coming!” he yelled, hurrying inside.

“The stone was supposed to go to my uncle,” Della was saying to Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes widened.

“Scrooge McDuck is your uncle?”

“Yep! In fact, he’s the one who sent us to find out what happened to it. It’s…” she glanced down at Huey and Dewey. “Kind of important.”

“Well, I’m so sorry it was lost,” Rebecca apologized. “Baloo doesn’t normally lose cargo- he said they ran into some trouble on the way there, and they weren’t able to retrieve it.”

“Well…” Baloo’s voice said, sounding sheepish. “That’s not exactly true.” they all turned, seeing Baloo and a younger bear standing in the door. Rebecca frowned, but before she could ask what Baloo meant, Dewey let out a loud and dramatic gasp.

“You’re my idol from the video I only just saw a minute ago!” he said, rushing up to Kit and shaking his hand.

“Um, thanks?” Kit said, sounding confused and wary. “But… why am I your idol?”

“I saw that thing you were doing! With the silver board!” Kit’s eyes lit up.

“You mean Cloudkicking!”

“Yeah, that!” Dewey grinned. “I think it could totally be my thing! Teach me EVERYTHING you know!”

“I’d be happy to!” Kit looked up at Baloo. “Is that okay, Baloo?”

“Sure thing, kid,” Baloo said, smiling. “You can show ‘im on the way to the island where the stone ended up.”

“Oh,” Della cut in. “That’s alright, we can fly there on our own! We just need the coordinates.”

“It’s no trouble-” Rebecca started. Baloo cleared his throat.

“I think your plane could use a bit of tuning up,” he said, aiming a thumb at the Cloudslayer, which was sinking below the waves. “Our mechanic will take a look at it while Kit and I fly you out.” Della sighed.

“Fine.”

“Great! Right this way!” Baloo marched out of Higher for Hire, a hand on Kit’s shoulder. “We’ll have ya there in no time!”

On the Seaduck

Dewey poked his head into the cockpit, causing both bears to turn and look at him.

“Soooo… can you teach me cloudkicking now?” He asked Kit, tapping excitedly against the door frame. Kit looked at Baloo questioningly, and he chuckled.

“Sure thing, Kiddo. Can ya get your mom in here for me? If Kit’s gonna be teachin’ you, I’ll need her to navigate our way to the island.”

“Sure!” Dewey disappeared, and moments later, Della appeared in his place. Kit slid out of his seat.

“Here’s the map,” he said, handing her the paper. “The island we’re going to is circled.” he watched as Della sat down, a doubtful look in his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Of course!” Della said dismissively. “I plan my own flights all the time!”

“Okay,” Kit said. “Just call me if you need help!” he left the cockpit, and was immediately met by an extremely excited Dewey.

“So where do we start?” he asked eagerly.

“Well,” Kit began. “The best way to learn is by doing it.” Dewey gasped as Kit pulled out his airfoil and handed it to him. “Let’s see what you can do! Just take this rope-” he gave Dewey the handle he always held on to, and opened the cargo hold with a lever. Gesturing to the opening, he smiled. “You just, jump- once you’re out, try to balance on the board, and keep your knees bent.”

“Got it!” Dewey jumped, immediately being caught by the wind and whisked out as far as the rope would let him.

Kit watched him thoughtfully. His form wasn’t bad- a little stiff, but he’d loosen up as he got more comfortable. That could be worked with easily. The problem was… Dewey was screaming. He did not look like he was having fun, which Kit thought was the whole point.

“Uh, maybe we should practice inside first!” he shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. Dewey didn’t respond, and Huey came to stand next to Kit.

“Did you hear that, Dewey?” he shouted. “You can stop!”

“No way, I love this!” Dewey yelled, a tense smile on his face. “The freedom! The wind in my mouth! The sky pirates!”

“Sky pirates?!” Huey and Kit shouted, eyes widening in alarm. Don Karnage grinned as he flew his plane closer.

“Miss me?” he crowed, swinging his sword at Dewey, who thankfully ducked just in time.

“I wanna stop now!” The duck yelled. Kit cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Dewey, you need to start pulling yourself in! Grab the rope!” Dewey screamed in response, and Kit groaned. “Gah, he’s screaming too loud to hear me! Hold on Dewey, I’m coming!” he turned to Huey. “Once I’m out, pull that lever and draw the rope back in- it’ll take that and us pulling to get in as quick as possible.” after Huey nodded, he jumped onto the rope and slid along it to Dewey.

“Be careful Kit!” Baloo called from the cockpit, his teeth clenched as he held the wheel steady.

Kit waved to show he’d heard him, jumping onto the board. He grabbed Dewey with one hand and the handle with the other. Dewey wrapped his arms around the bear, and Kit grabbed the rope and started pulling.

“Flip the lever, Huey!” he yelled. The other boy nodded, and Kit turned his attention to Dewey. “You can stop screaming now,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Don Karnage flew between them and the plane with an evil laugh, slicing the rope with his sword. Kit’s eyes widened. “Scratch that. You can keep screaming.” They dropped, and as Dewey’s screams increased, Kit winced (Dewey was screaming right into his ear) and angled his airfoil so it caught the wind, bringing them as close to the shore as possible before they hit the water. They both took a deep breath before they were plunged beneath the surface. Dewey’s arms didn’t loosen, thankfully- Kit couldn’t open his eyes to see him if he’d let go.

The waves washed them safely ashore, and they simply laid there for a moment, both breathing deeply. After a moment, Kit stood and held out a hand to Dewey.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling him up. Dewey gave him a shaky thumbs up.

“Totally,” he said. His shaking voice said otherwise, but before Kit could comment on it, the Seaduck was landing next to them.

“Dewey!” Della cried, jumping out before the plane had even stopped moving. She ran to them, picking him up and holding him close to her. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“Mom,” Dewey said, sounding embarrassed. Kit laughed quietly, and turned away, not wanting to intrude on their tender moment, and looked at the Seaduck instead. He smiled when he saw Baloo and Huey hurrying over. He took a step toward them, but was stopped by Della. She swept him into a hug and squeezed him tight.

“Thanks for saving Dewey-” he blinked, barely having time to awkwardly pat her shoulder before she was dropping him. “-from the danger you put him in!” she finished, scowling down at him with her hands on her hips.

Kit took a step back, alarmed by the sudden anger, and Dewey came to stand next to him. He glared at his mom, but before he could say anything, Baloo was there.

“Hey now,” he said, putting himself between them and Della. He glared at her, putting a hand on Kit’s shoulder. “Your boy wanted to learn cloudkicking, and Kit taught ‘im. How was he supposed to know the pirates would show up?”

“Yeah!” Dewey said, throwing his arm around Kit’s shoulders. “It’s not Kit’s fault!”

Both parents ignored him, in favor of glowering at each other. Huey shoved his way between them.

“Let’s focus on finding the stone for now,” he said patiently. “Okay?”

“Fine,” Baloo muttered. Della crossed her arms, but nodded.

“Any chance you saw where on the island the stone fell?” she asked Baloo.

“Nope, sorry.” Baloo shook his head. “We were to high up- and we didn’t exactly wait up. We were trying to get out of there as quick as possible.” Della narrowed her eyes at him as Huey knelt on the ground, examining a pair of tracks.

“Why?”

“Hey,” Huey called, before he replied. “Check this out.” Kit knelt next to him.

“Tracks?” he asked.

“Yeah, but they’re weird.” Huey frowned as Della came up behind them. “I wonder what kind of animal made them.”

“Uh…” Della put a hand on his head, turning it to the right. “I think, that kind.” a strange creature came out of the bushes, and they quickly backed up to Dewey and Baloo.

“It’s some sort of… rhinosarilla!” Della said.

“Or a gorillaocerous,” Baloo offered.

“Gorilihno!” Dewey suggested. The creature roared in anger, and Della ran, yelling,

“We’ll decide what it’s called later, RUN!” they all followed her, sprinting through the jungle. The creature stayed hot on their heels, unrelenting in it's chase.

Dewey pulled out Kit’s airfoil, grinning. “Baloo! Launch me at him!” he said, holding it up.

“Er, great idea!” Baloo said. “But I’ve got a better one.”

“So do I!” Della snatched the airfoil out of Dewey’s hand, hurling it at the creature. It bounced off it’s head and knocked it down a hill, where it got its horn stuck in the cliff.

The airfoil flew back, and as Baloo caught it and handed it to him, Dewey crossed his arms.

“I mean… my idea would have worked just as well,” he said, frowning.

“What is that thing?!” Della yelled, gesturing at the creature.

Baloo shuddered. “It’s just like that awful chicken goat,” he said. “Remember, Kit?”

“How could I forget?” the boy replied, shivering.

“The what?” Della asked, turning around to glare at them.

“Oh… did we forget to mention that?” Baloo asked.

“You did,” Della said, gritting her teeth. Baloo shrugged.

“Sorry.”

“But where did it come from?” Huey asked, cutting off any further arguments. He walked through a couple of rocks into the bushes, and they followed (but not before Della shot another glare at Baloo).

The game to the edge of a small cliff, and below them was the stone of what was and Don Karnage. The pirate was ordering a member of his crew to lift the stone. When she did, there was a bright flash of light- and she suddenly had the lower body of an ant.

As she screamed and Don Karnage groaned, Huey flipped through the journal.

“What was once two becomes anew!” he said. “The stone of what was! It must combine two things into one!” the pirates continued trying to grab the stone, but each one who tried was combined with an animal who had happened to be touching it at the same time.

“Alright!” Della said. “What was eight pirates is now four pirate abominations- much easier!” she walked to the edge and started climbing down. “I’m going to get a closer look- stay right here.” she pointed at Baloo. “You, stay further over there.” she pointed behind the kids, and he held his hands up in surrender.

They all watched as Della climbed down, gasping when she started sliding- just barely catching herself before she fell off.

“Oh man, mom’s in trouble!” Huey said worriedly.

“This is my chance!” Dewey said, grinning. “I can take the pirates out with my sick cloudkicking skills, while you-” he pointed at Baloo. “-steal one of their planes and use your piloting skills to make off with the stone!”

“Well, I am an ace pilot,” Baloo said with a smug smile. Kit elbowed him, and he coughed. “But uh, maybe you should let Kit handle the pirates? He has more experience than you do.”

“I can do it,” Dewey insisted. “I’ve dealt with Don Karnage before!”

“I meant- wait.” Baloo held up a hand. “You’ve met Karney before?” Dewey nodded, and Baloo sighed. “Alright, if you’re sure-”

“Hold on,” Huey said, stepping between them and looking at Dewey. “This is a dumb, pointless risk!” he said as Dewey pulled out the airfoil. “I’m begging you not to do this.” Dewey shook his head.

“Already Dew-sending!” he called, leaping off the edge. Baloo, Kit, and Huey cringed as he dropped, smashing onto the ground. Still, it was a distraction. Baloo hurried the kids down to the ground, and over to the planes.

“Get in, quick!” he said, climbing into one. He started the engine, drawing the attention of the pirates. Don Karnage pointed at them.

“Someone stop them!” he shouted. The pirates didn’t listen to him- most of them were too busy panicking. As Baloo pulled the plane out, there was a loud roar.

“Uh… guys?” Kit pointed to where Della was sitting on a bear with butterfly wings. “I think we have another problem.”

“Oh boy,” Baloo said. “I better help her!” he leapt out, calling over his shoulder- “keep the plane running!”

Huey and Kit watched as the bear ran around the clearing, roaring at pirates. It then came face to face with Baloo.

“Don’t worry,” Kit said to Huey. “He’ll help your mom!” Baloo and the bear stared at each other for a moment, and then Baloo screamed and bolted. Kit dropped his head into his hands.

“Nevermind.”

“Wait, look!” Huey pointed, and Kit looked up. The bear was tangled up in the ropes attached to the stone, and it was lifting it into the air. Baloo leapt onto the stone, flying along with them. he climbed up onto the bear with Della.

"well, this is one way to get the stone back!" he said, grinning at her. as they flew up, the remaining pirates hopped into their planes and went after them. Kit jumped out of their plane, quickly followed by Huey.

“Come on!” he yelled as they ran past Dewey. “We need to get back to the Seaduck and follow them!” the three kids ran back through the woods to where the plane was waiting.

After they got in, Kit sat down in Baloo’s chair. “I’ll get the Seaduck up into the air,” he said, turning the plane on. “But someone’s going to need to distract the pirates- I don't think the bear can fight them off."

“I will!” Dewey volunteered. “I can cloudkick out there, and save my mom and Baloo!”

“That’s enough!” Huey yelled, yanking the airfoil out of his hands. “Why don’t you both just do your thing!” Kit turned to look at him, confused, while Dewey scowled.

“This is my thing!" he said, gesturing at the board. “Flying straight and boring isn’t going to save them! Anyone can do that!”

“Wait,” Kit said, drawing both ducks’ attention. “Dewey, you can fly a plane?!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? That’s great!” he stood. “I’ve been learning, but I’m nowhere near ready to fly on my own. Until I’m old enough to take real lessons, I’m best at being Baloo’s navigator. So you being able to fly well enough to keep a plane this size in the air, and keep it steady? At your age?” he grinned. “That is amazing, and it's exactly what we need right now.”

“Besides,” Huey said, smiling. “If I know you, you’ll make flying as special as you are. No one will be able to fly just like you.”

“Okay,” Dewey said, a smile blooming across his face. He sat in the pilot’s chair.

“Let’s Dewey this.”

With Dewey flying, they quickly and effortlessly caught up to Della and Baloo. As they got closer, they saw that Don Karnage had a harpoon stuck in the stone, and was reeling it in.

Kit opened the hatch and grabbed the rope. Even without the handle, it would work.

“Keep it steady!” he called to Dewey. Dewey gave him a thumbs up, and Kit jumped. He flew over to the cable, using his sudden weight to push against it and dislodge it from the stone.

“Argh!” Don Karnage yelled, dodging the hook as it flew back at him, taking out the cannon in the process. “How dare you, you little rat!”

Kit shot him a smug grin before flying to the other planes. He quickly took out their engines with the crowbar Baloo kept in the Seaduck, forcing them to head for the water before they fell.

“Wow,” Della said, staring at him. Baloo chuckled from his place behind her.

“Isn’t he amazing?” he asked, pride in his voice. He cupped a hand around his mouth.

“You’re doin’ great, Kit! Keep it up!” Kit waved as the Seaduck flew up to them, Dewey in the pilot’s seat.

“Mom! Baloo!” he yelled. “Jump on!”

“Get the stone first!” Della responded. She pulled out a pocket knife to cut the rope, while Baloo did his best to untie the knots. Between the two of them the stone was soon free, and it dropped onto the nose of the Seaduck. They both watched, breaths held, as it rolled to the edge. Thankfully, Dewey was able to steady the plane and keep it in the center.

“Yes!” Huey said, laughing. “I knew you could do it!” Dewey grinned.

“Thanks, Huey,” he said. He moved the plane closer to Della and Baloo so they could jump on.

“Look,” Huey said, pointing to where Kit was fighting with Don Karnage. The bear had just spun the pirate’s plane around, spinning him down into the waves below. They both cheered, and Kit grinned up at them, waving.

“I’ll go reel him in,” Huey said, putting a hand on Dewey’s shoulder before walking to the back. Dewey nodded, then turned to look at Della and Baloo. Della was looking at Dewey through the windshield, beaming.

“I’m so proud of you!” she yelled. She did a cartwheel. “Look how steady it is!” Dewey grinned, but Baloo did not look amused.

“Whoa,” he said. “I’ll admit this is pretty impressive, but maybe save the cartwheels for after we’re safely inside?” Della nodded.

“Fair point,” she said. The bear flew up to them, and Della smiled and scratched it’s fur. After a second, Baloo gave a small smile and did the same. The bear licked both of them, and Baloo gagged as it flew away.

“Gah, it licked my teeth!” Della laughed, wiping the spit off her face. She looked at the bear.

“Be free, my noble friend,” she said, waving at it. Baloo rolled his eyes, ushering her inside. Once they were in, he went to the back where Huey was pulling in Kit. After he was in, he drew the boy into a hug.

“Great job, Lil’ Britches,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks Papa Bear,” Kit said, smiling back. He fist bumped Huey, and the three of them walked up to the cockpit.

“You’re doin’ great, kid,” Baloo said to Dewey, walking up behind him. “But I can take over now.”

“Aw, let him fly us home Baloo,” Kit said. “He’s a natural- he can handle it.” Baloo looked down at him.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you trust him, then so do I.” he looked at Dewey. “Just be careful with my baby, okay?”

“He will be,” Della promised. She elbowed him. “I let him fly my baby, and- well…” she coughed. “He crashed it into the ocean. But he’s not gonna try to do any stunts this time!”

Baloo laughed. “She’s been through worse than that- Just so long as we get home in one piece.” he looked at Dewey thoughtfully. “One more thing, though.”

“Yeah?” Dewey asked, keeping his eyes on the sky.

“Do you know how to get back to Higher For Hire?”

“Uh... no,” Dewey admitted sheepishly. “I guess that’s a problem, huh?”

“Nah,” Baloo said dismissively. “That’s why I have a navigator! Kit?”

“On it, Papa Bear,” Kit said, hopping into the navigator’s seat. he smiled at Dewey.

"Are you ready to... Dewey this?" he asked. Dewey smirked.

"I am so ready."

Once they were back home, Baloo lifted the stone off the Seaduck’s nose and into the spare crate that Rebecca had waiting for him.

“There,” he said, putting the lid over it. “You’re good to go!”

“Thank you,” Della said, smiling as Huey, Dewey, and Kit pushed it into the Cloudslayer. “We really appreciate the help.”

“No problem,” Baloo replied. “It was the least we could do- considering we lost the cargo in the first place.” Della shrugged.

“Eh, it happens. Uncle Scrooge’ll understand when we tell him what happened.” Baloo blinked.

“Uncle…?" he asked, before his eyes widened in realization. "Scrooge McDuck is your uncle?!” Della snorted.

“Yeah, who did you think sent us? Speaking of which-” she reached into her pocket. “He said that if you could get us stone, I should give you this.” she gave him some money. “It’s what he owed you for the cargo when you were originally delivering it.”

“Whoa, thank you!” Baloo grinned. “Becky will be happy- she was mad when we came back without this before.” after tucking it into his shirt pocket, he held out a hand. “It was nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise.” Della grinned, shaking it. “Maybe we’ll see you around?”

“Maybe,” Baloo agreed. He smirked. “If ya ever need anything else delivered.” they laughed together as the kids came up to them.

“The stone is loaded, Mom,” Huey said.

“Okay, then we should probably be getting back to Duckburg.” she and the boys climbed in the plane, waving one last time before shutting the door.

“Dewey gave me his address,” Kit said as they flew off. “So I can write him and see how his flying is going.” Baloo put an arm around him.

“That's great, Lil' Britches." he hummed thoughtfully. "You know, if you wanted, I could start taking you out on the weekends to fly.” Kit gasped.

“Really, Papa Bear?” he asked, looking up at Baloo with wide eyes. Baloo grinned.

“Really. I have a feeling both of you could be ace pilots someday.”

[talesmaniac89]

The Classifieds

Pairing: Past Dean x Reader 

Summary: What lengths will Dean Winchester go to when he runs out of options to save the people he cares about? Is he willing to let go of a part of himself to save his family?

Triggers: Hurt, Coma, possible loss/death, open ending, no resolution, angst, No happy endings here guys. This is just angst for the sake of angst.

For sale: 1967 Chevrolet Impala

Lovingly restored black ‘67 Impala needs a new home. This 327 four-barrel beauty comes with a newly installed 502 Big Block 550 Horsepower Engine to give you that extra bit of push. Though it has a mileage of over 600,000 miles travelled, this beauty runs like new after several full fixups, constant servicing and a lot of TLC. Registration is up to date as of January this year. 

With its souped-up engine, new paint job and fresh set of tires, this baby looks like it just rolled off of the assembly line. Both the exterior and interior of the car have received a near perfect restoration with a few small exceptions; there’s a green army man toy stuck in the ashtray, a few Lego pieces are rattling in the vent when you turn on the heat, and there’s a small carving in the rear window sill. These are all minor interior flaws that can easily be fixed by the buyer.

I’ll share details like the VIN, classic car ID and answer any other questions directly to any prospective buyers.

She’s been with us since ‘73, and never let us down. Baby’s part of our family, and we’re sad to let her go, but I’m hoping the new owner will love her as much as I have.

Price: Best offer

---

Taking a shaky breath, Dean held back the tears that burned in his eyes, blurring his vision as he read through the classified ad one last time before motioning to hit send. His finger shook over the enter key as he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice.

Baby meant a lot to him, of course she did. But she was only a car, and if he didn’t let her go, then he could end up losing so much more. Selling the Impala was his only choice.

He needed money. A lot of money. For (Y/N) and Sammy. Their last hunt in Chicago had landed them both in separate hospital beds after prolonged contact with a djinn, and they weren’t waking up. Even after Dean killed the fucking monster that had them trapped, they both remained unresponsive, and they were fading fast. Only kept alive by modern science and a team of hardworking doctors and nurses.

Still, Dean was in the business of saving people. And if ganking another monster of the week wasn’t gonna cut it, then he’d do whatever else he needed to do to fix this. He wouldn’t let his little brother, or the woman he loved more than life itself, die in that hospital. He couldn’t lose them, either of them.

But, their stay and continued treatment required money. More money than he had. More money than he could ever hope to get from his measly collection of fake credit cards, poker games and hustling some poor fool at the local dive bar.

Which was why he was balancing Sammy’s computer on his lap as he sat, defeated, on one of the uncomfortably hard waiting room chairs. One finger hovering over the enter button as he tried to breathe through the growing lump in his throat and the helpless panic lodged in his chest. Either way, he’d lose something. But this way he’d save his family; the only goddamn good thing left in his life.

Swallowing down the bitter defeat, he let his finger press into the enter key with a little more force than necessary. Sending his ad in to the classifieds with nothing more than a dry, low sob goodbye.

Dean would scrounge up every damned cent needed to keep his family alive. Even if it meant selling the only home the Winchester brothers had ever really had.

Because the Impala was their only real home, more so than the bunker could ever hope to be. Yet, what was a home without people to live in it? If he lost his family, then the bunker, the Impala, or any other place he tried to run away to would just be a coffin. Somewhere to lie broken, bruised and defeated as he waited for the world to catch up and realise his heart stopped beating the day that fucking djinn landed Sam and (Y/N) in that hospital bed.

“Goodbye Baby… I’m sorry,”

---

“…Winchester?”

Someone was calling his name, but Dean was too far gone to listen. His red rimmed eyes stayed laser focused on the online listing. Dry and burning after minutes spent staring unblinkingly at the picture of his Baby that topped the ad. The picture was just one of many, the first he could find without Sam or her in it, but it still meant so much to him.

In it he could see every single moment he’d spent behind the wheel of that car.

He could see nights spent by (Y/N)’s side, stargazing on Baby’s hood. His hand painting patterns on her bare arm as they just… Existed together, not talking or hunting, just living. Her head resting on his shoulder as he whispered promises of forever into her (Y/H/C) hair.

He relived every time she’d helped him fix his Baby back up, handing him his tools with that tempting sheen of moisture trapped against her neck and collarbone from the heat of the Kansas sun. Endless drives, with Sam calling shotgun; using his longer legs to his advantage and leaving the fiercest huntress Dean knew in the dust while she grumbled about deserving a front seat view for once.

He could feel the steady and safe vibration of the steering wheel under his fingers and heard her singing along to his mixtapes. Her head leaned back and (Y/H/C) hair moving slightly in the small breeze from the open window. (Y/E/C) eyes hidden behind closed eyelids and a small lazy smile, just barely visible through the rear-view mirror.

That one picture, topping the classifieds ad, held it all; every moment on the road so far. And there’d been many. More than he could ever hope to count.

From the desperate rushed rescue missions and races against the clock, to the lazier road trips after a fight well fought. The easy drives would always be his favourite moments. Just sunshine, warming the air around him as he drove his family back to the bunker. Safe in the knowledge that he’d kept them all out of harm’s way once more.

He’d spent so many long days on the road, he could picture it all perfectly. Even in the pixelated picture of an empty car. (Y/N) would be lounging in the backseat, humming along to his music. Stretched across the leather seats as Sam tried to talk both Dean and her into agreeing to change the classic rock music blaring through the speakers with a podcast or audio book. Giving his all to another convincing argument, fit for the former Stanford student, and still failing miserably every time.

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,”

Dean flinched slightly at the sound of his own voice. He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. Even the cracked, whispered version that left him. Yet, as soon as the words were out, he could nearly hear the echo of Sammy’s quipped “Jerk” in response to the golden rule. Barely catching the ghost of it with a trembling, empty smile before it was crushed under the louder sound of cold professionalism above him.

“Mr. Winchester?” The doctor repeated, sounding slightly annoyed at his lack of response and waving the papers in front of her as she waited for him to take them from her. The admission forms.

There were two of them. One for each of the two people he loved more than life itself. Lying in separate hospital rooms, only kept alive by machines and wires. Alive, but not really living, for as long as he had money to keep funding those fragile lifelines.

“Please fill in the fields for their insurance and the payment plan section. If there’s any issues…” The doctor said, voice free of judgement or blame as he lifted tear stained eyes to catch hers.

“No… You’ll have your money. Just… Save ‘em doc. They’re all I have,”

Dean didn’t have time to sit around feeling sorry for himself. He needed to get the money. He’d do anything to save his family. Hell, he’d have already sold his soul three times over if he had anything left to actually bargain with. And his baby, the Impala that had been their home, would never be the same again without Sam’s constant attempts to change his music or (Y/N) signing along from the backseat or making his baby brother roll his eyes at her bad jokes.

Though he’d yet to get an offer on the ad. And he needed money fast.

Cas had tried, but his weakened grace couldn’t help them, and there were no other last-minute interventions there to save the day. After all, saving the day was what the Winchesters did, and Dean was two soldiers short of a full team. 

No, he couldn’t sit around hoping someone would come rescue them and he couldn’t shoot or punch his way through this problem. All he could do was cling to his phone and hope someone offered to buy a piece of him. One he thought he’d never part with. Hell, at some point he’d even dreamed about handing the keys over to his own child one day, one with green eyes and (Y/H/C) hair, to let the Impala live on when he retired somewhere calm and quiet with (Y/N).

A dream he now realised was foolish to even hope for.

Keeping his eyes on the picture of his Baby on the laptop screen, Dean’s hand tightened around the papers. His voice shook as he prayed out loud, just as much to the classic car on the screen as to the doctor in front of him. 

“Please save my family,”

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​​ @woodworthti666​​ @defenderrosetyler​​  @akshi8278​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @lyarr24​​ @torn-and-frayed​​ @all-will-be-well-love​​ @wearesuchstuff1​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​ @starsandmidnightblue​​ @punof-agun​​ 

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​​ @winchest09​​ @hobby27​​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​ @sea040561​​ @donnaintx​​ @alwaysdreamingforthebest​​  @thatmotleygirl​​ @chocolateheart​​ @superfanficnatural​​ @flamencodiva​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​ @waywardbeanie​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @ellewritesfix05​​ @emoryhemsworth​​

[gutwhump]

Non-con body mod for BTHB because I’m feeling feeding the boy to the evil angst demons

Rowan BTHB — Non-Con Body Modification

@badthingshappenbingo

[[ CW: needles, implied noncon surgery, implied drugging, light medical whump, transphobia, forced detransitioning. stay safe

This got real long. I couldn’t introduce owner number one, I just hate him 😔 so enjoy more WRU and Tybalt. ]]

✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

The first time someone changed her, she was afraid.

Instead of her usual training routine, her primary handler had woken her up and walked her straight back to the medical wing. It was never a good sign to be brought there when you weren’t sick. She shook and whined when they reached an office door she’d never been through before, hoping to earn some mercy by wearing her fear on her sleeve. Every trainee eventually learned that anything new would only hurt you.

“Hah, no getting out of this one, sweetheart. You’ll live. Your buyer just sent in a few customization requests,” he said, swinging the door open and shoving her inside. It was a brightly lit office, with multiple chairs, a desk, and tables housing all kinds of strange equipment. The man sitting inside didn’t strike her as particularly scary, but she knew what customization meant. She’d seen the other pets, sometimes, with all kinds of humiliating tattoos and surgeries.

“592...604? Alright, bring her here,” the new man sighed, as he rolled his chair over to one of the tables. “You know I hate doing this, right? It’s the hardest fucking one to manage when they start squirming.”

She wanted to press herself into the wall at his exasperated tone, but she knew she’d just be dragged back into position if she did.

“N-No, sir, I… I won’t s-squirm, I swear, I’ll b-be good,” she stuttered. Make him happy, and whatever’s going to happen will be better. If he’s pleased, he’ll go easier.

“Bah. They all say that,” the man said, though he wasn’t really speaking to her. “You lot need to stop offering this to the clients, or one of these days, a product is gonna wind up with some real damage.”

“Okay, so give her a sedative. Not that hard.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “They don’t give me any of that shite. Bring the next one in sedated already. This one, just bring her here.”

‘604 was hauled closer, then ordered down onto her knees. She looked up pleadingly into the man’s impassive eyes. He picked up a metal instrument and tapped her lips with it.

“Open up, and keep it open.”

She obeyed, already trembling. Her mouth didn’t close, even when he clamped the instrument around her tongue and pulled it farther out, making her whimper in fear. He tilted it a few different ways and shined a strange, blue light on it before he was satisfied.

“Alright, good girl for that. Now for god’s sake, stop crying and close your eyes.”

She tried to choke back the noises and squeezed her eyes shut tight, praying that it’d be over quick. She didn’t want anything to happen to her tongue. But even more than that, she didn’t want to think about what “real damage” would mean.

She heard him pick something up off the table. But the only thing on the nearest table had been, had been… she started sobbing in fear. She tried to pull away but didn’t get far, thanks to the clamp around her tongue— she didn’t want to be bad, she didn’t want to, she just couldn’t bear the thought of a needle going through it. There’d been a time when she hadn’t been so afraid of needles, she thought, but she’d learned to hate and fear them in her new life.

“Fuckin’ Christ, it always has to be a circus. Can you hold her?”

Her handler’s strong arms wrapped around her, then pulled her head back and held it in place while she cried. She was going to pay dearly for this later, she already knew.

“Hnn, a-ah’m th-owry,” she tried to apologize.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hold still.”

She didn’t have a choice, she shut her eyes again and silently begged for mercy as the man held her tongue out straight. And suddenly, with a pinch… it was over.

‘604 was silent for a moment, holding her breath in confusion. That was it? It didn’t… it didn’t really even hurt. She went limp and opened her eyes as a small rod was passed through the new hole in her tongue. It was a little sore, but she barely felt the bottom of the piercing being screwed on.

She’d ruined her own day… incurred an unknowable punishment… over something so small. It was incredibly stupid. How could she have been so bad?

Her handler chuckled at the sudden silence. “I told you you’d live. Stupid bitch.”

“Prisses, every one of ‘em,” the other man commented, standing up from his chair and moving to sterilize his equipment. “Go on, then, I have another appointment in five.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the handler joked.

He then dragged her to her feet by the collar and marched her back out the door. She allowed herself to be jerked around through silent tears. How would they teach her a lesson this time? When would she learn?

—————————

The second time someone changed her, she didn’t even know it was happening. She just woke up after, groggy and aching and restrained on a soft bed.

‘604 tilted her head to the side slowly. She’d never seen a room like this before. It was wide and open and bright, and there were other Box Babes in her situation, in various states of consciousness. It looked like it was for recovery, but nothing had happened for her to recover from. She’d been good the day before. She’d been so, so good, and she was barely hurt at all.

When she shifted, though, it was clear that something was wrong. Her chest was awfully sore. Why? Had she fallen ill, and had to have surgery? This was what she imagined someone would feel like after surgery.

‘604’s wrists chafed at the restraints as she tried to work the blanket down on her body, to see the damage. But when it finally fell off… she wished she hadn’t.

Her chest was bandaged up on either side, and it was swollen. No, not all of it was swelling, it was just bigger. Where she’d had moderate B-cups before, there were two outsized globes that she could barely see her stomach past. She stared down at them dully.

It seemed obscene, somehow. She didn’t know why. She was a girl, they’d taught her over and over, and besides that, she was property. She was a Box Babe, and babes were meant to be pretty, they were meant to be whatever their buyers wanted, and they were so very lucky to be wanted. This request was what her buyer wanted. It would make him happy.

So why could she only feel dread? Tears leaked down her face, and her ribcage felt too tight around her heart, as if it could strangle the soft, beating thing. This would make him happy. She was a girl. She was a good girl.

He was a grown-ass man.

Suddenly, the thought that usually comforted her made her heave in wrongness. Little, confused cries left her between the nauseous convulsions. What was wrong with her? It was permanent, it was a fucking tit job, he couldn’t get them off, he wanted to claw them off. Why did she feel so sick? This had to be illegal. Why couldn’t she be happy? She’d never learn to be grateful.

She eventually forced the sickness down and cried alone in the bed, drawing the blank, pitying stares of other Box Babes. She hated having these kinds of thoughts.

Maybe, if she cried loud enough, a doctor would come with a syringe to calm her down soon.

—————————

The third time someone changed her, she simply let it happen.

“Look at you, little thing, always worried about your hair,” Tybalt said, running his fingers through it from behind. She was prettying herself up in his bathroom, the way they’d taught her, to keep her hair soft and shiny and attractive. “You must take a lot of pride in it, huh?”

She didn’t know which answer he wanted, so she took the safe route by nodding in agreement.

“Yes, sir.”

“I thought you might.”

He opened a nearby drawer and brought something out— a pair of shears that he used on his own hair. Then, he took the lock of hair that she’d just run product through.

“Hold still for me, princess.”

“Yes, sir.”

She obeyed as he sliced it clean off.

Her first reaction was horror, that she wouldn’t be pretty for her owner anymore— but, she reminded herself quickly, her owner was doing this to her. He wanted her to look like this.

So she sat, staring expressionless into the mirror as her long, fiery hair was lopped off. Tybalt made sure to chop it right next to the head, resulting in an unkempt, not-quite-buzz-cutty mess. It took less time than she expected.

She reached up to run one hand over it as a strange feeling stirred in her chest. She… she was supposed to hate it, right? That was what he wanted. She tried her best to look like she hated it.

“There you go. Less to worry about, if you ask me. Just ask for another trim if it starts getting long again, yeah?” he asked, gently brushing the hair off of her shoulders.

She nodded silently, running both hands over it this time. The movement was almost reverent. Despite everything she’d learned, she thought it looked better than the long hair. Even ugly and uneven like this.

“Hm. I thought for sure that’d make you cry. I guess I still don’t know you all that well, pet,” he said in a lighthearted tone, patting her on the head. Ah… maybe she should have cried. For him.

“Clean this mess up for me, will you?” he called on his way out.

She knew she was meant to start cleaning right away, but she just kept staring at herself in the mirror, head turning this way and that. For the first time ever, she thought to herself that she looked… nice.

The third time someone changed her, it was nice.

[blackmissfrizzle]

A Tale of Two Soldiers Part 6

Title: A Tale of Two Soldiers Part 6

Characters: Erik x reader, Bucky x reader

Summary: Erik and Bucky come to save you.

Word Count: 5703

Warnings: Sexual assault and sex trafficking (Plesse don’t read if they’re triggers for you even though it does not go into depth.) Violence and a little torture

A/N: no keep reading link since I’m on mobile.

You awoke with a pounding headache, it was worst than the time you were matching drink for drink with Steve. Whatever room you were in the air was freezing and it didn’t help that Marcus or whoever he was working with left you in your lingerie set.

As you were coming to, you heard a murmur of voices. You got up to investigate where the voices were coming from. With each closer step you heard a bunch of:

‘She’s up’

‘She’s coming’

‘Is that Y/N’

‘Isn’t she an avenger’

When you found the voices, they belong to a group of women, scratch that not all of them were women. The youngest seemed to be about 11. All of them were in skimpy shorts and crop tops. Judging from their outfits, your new environment, and your abduction you just got caught in a fucking sex trafficking ring. Great, Bucky and Erik weren’t going to let you out your sight after this.

A young girl with big doe eyes tentatively walked to you.”Are you here to save us? You’re Y/N, the avenger, right?” Her eyes were filled with hope and you didn’t want to tell her the truth and break her heart but you also didn’t want to lie to her and give her false hope.

You didn’t know if it was luck or not but a girl who looked like life hardened her answered for you. “Does she look like she’s here to save us? She’s for sell just like us!”

To make yourself smaller you kneeled down to the other girl’s level. “She’s right. I’m here against my will. But, I got some powerful friends and they’ll find us sooner than later.”

Suddenly, you heard a loud slam of a door and the clicking of heels against the tile floor. A man in a full Armani suit was surrounded by his bodyguards appeared. He seem like the type of man to brag about his accomplishments and flaunt his wealth, especially with women. And if they didn’t do as he asked, he’ll call them anything but a child of God.

“I see that you met your new roommates,” the man stated smugly.

Already tired of the bullshit you punched ole dude in his smug face. In return you received a kick in the gut that caused you to fall to the ground.

Armani suit bent down and jerked your chin so you could look into his emotionless eyes. “They were already ordered not to hit you in the face. We don’t want to damage our money maker.”

“You’re really selling me and these girls? Oh, you don’t know what trouble you just got yourself into asshole.”

“Trouble? I don't think so. You’re gonna be worth more than all of them combined. Someone as beautiful and strong as you. You’re gonna make me a rich man.”

“Let’s say if you get the chance to sell me, you’re not gonna live long enough to spend it. My dad’s a senator, my uncles are War Machine and Ironman, my best friends are Captain America and Black Widow, and my boyfriends are the two most ruthless killers ever. I’m starting to feel bad for you bro.” You shrugged at the man and smirked.

“I knew you were a little slut.” He gripped your face harder to the point you thought he would break some of your teeth and then he gave you a bruising kiss. In return you head butted him, which he seemed to enjoy from his evil chuckle. “I wish I could keep you for myself. Do you know what’s the most satisfying thing about my job?”

“I don’t know. You get your tiny dick sucked? You must be overcompensating for something,” you sneered.

The big bad grabbed your hand and put it on his rather unimpressive hard on.”I assure you I’m not overcompensating for anything.” Great, not only were you kidnapped by an asshole but he was delusional as well.

“Anyway, my favorite thing about my job is dousing out fires. Now, your average sex trafficker wants to get easy girls. Girls who won’t put up fight. But me personally, I like it when my girls got fight in em, because I enjoy putting them out. I love when a break down a girl and make her submit. The more fight she had the better. And you, Ms. Y/L/N are one of the strongest women I ever had and to bend you to my will until I submit,” he took a deep inhale and palmed himself. “I would pay good money for that, but you’re the product and I can’t make money if I use my own product. But no worries, there are buyers out there with similar viewpoints as mines and they’ll pay a pretty penny for you. So, I’m not scared because I’ll have enough money in the world not to worry about your friends and family.”

As Armani suit gave his bad guy monologue, you found a random pipe on the floor behind you. Despite your better judgement you grabbed the pipe and whacked the smug smirk off your captors face. “I’m glad you like your girls with fight because I gotta whole lotta fight in me.”

When he faced you, you finally saw the anger in him instead of that giddiness he had earlier. “Make sure you don’t hit her in the face. Remember that’s our money maker, but everything else is fair game.” While he ordered his men to do their worst his eyes never left yours until he exited the room.

Soon as their boss left, the goons started pounding at you. Some used their fists, some used their feet, some used the butt of a gun, and some used a pipe. No matter what they were using, pain reverberated throughout your body. Although, you were in immense pain you refused to give these monsters the satisfaction of your screams in pain, so you suffered in silence. The only thing that could be heard were their grunts and vile words towards you. It wasn’t until you blacked out with thoughts of Bucky and Erik saving you were you able to escape the pain.

——

Charles automatically noticed something was wrong when you didn’t show for the family photo shoot. Even though you hated doing things like these you were always 30 minutes early, just in case someone needed help with something. So when his baby girl wasn’t there when he got there, he ordered his crazy daughter, Casey to track you down.

That was two days ago and there was still no word from you. HPD inform your parents that they couldn’t find Marcus, who you were last seen with and now he was officially a person of interest.

The whole family was gathered in the living room with the Wakandans, James Warren, Tony, Rhodey, and Detective Johnson from HPD.

“We have an update on your daughter’s case,” the detective informed the Y/L/N family as he handed a folder to your father.

His knees buckled once he saw what was inside. It was photos of you in your lingerie, posed for sell. The pictures got worse as he saw all the bruises on your body.

Your mother got a look as well and she instantly wailed. “Who would do this to my baby?”

Tired of being in the dark, Erik took the photos from your dad. When he saw them he was fuming and he knew just who to blame.

Throwing the photos at Bucky, Erik stormed towards Bucky and sucker punched him.”Its your fault! I was stupid enough to listen to you and let her go to that damn auction! Now look, Barnes she’s caught in a sex trafficking ring!”

Everyone except the Wakandans perked up at the mention of Barnes. “Bucky Barnes?” Tony and your mom questioned.

Bucky was outed now, so he took the nano mask off. “I’m just as pissed as you, Stevens and I blame myself more than you ever could.” Then Bucky turned his gaze towards Tony and your mom, “But all of you have a choice. You either can turn me in over duty or some personal vendetta or you let me be Winter Soldier and bring our girl home and kill those sons of bitches.”

Regrettably, Tony conceded to Bucky. He was far too worried about you to get back at Bucky and he knew how much those bastards needed to pay and the Winter Soldier was what they needed.

“Who took those photos,” Rhodey asked gravelly.

“We believe it’s Richard Dominguez. He just took over the Dominguez crime family and expanded into sex trafficking, which his recently deceased father was against.” Detective Johnson informed the room.

“What about this Marcus nigga?” Erik asked. He was ready to kill someone and if he couldn’t get to Dominguez then Marcus would have to do.

The detective felt uncomfortable under Erik’s murderous gaze. “Umm...we can’t find him.”

“Then what the fuck you niggas good for? Oh wait never mind y’all good for killing innocent black people.”

“Cousin!” T’Challa admonished his younger cousin.

Erik just shrugged his shoulders because he believed he told no lie. He looked at Shuri and nodded his head at her. “Lil cuz, can you find this Marcus dude if we give you his picture?”

Shuri looked at Erik as if he grew a second head. Did he know who he was talking to?”

“My bad, cuz,” Erik quickly apologized once he saw the look on Shuri’s face. “Can you find him quickly is what I meant to ask.”

“Give me the picture and I’ll tell you his last location within 30 minutes, cousin,” the Wakandan princess stated.

Detective Johnson handed a photo of Marcus to Shuri and she promptly went to work.

---

Everything hurt. You were sure that you had a couple of broken ribs. The girls took turns looking after you and in that time they told you who held the group captive. It was some dude named Richard Dominguez and he was fairly new to the game.

The door squealed open and the girls hid in their respective corners. You thought it was Dominguez coming to gloat about the offers he got for you, but it was a woman instead. She reminded you of a Kim Kardashian wannabe. Nothing on the woman was real. Her ass was disproportionate to her thighs, her lips looked as if they were stung by bees, and her tan was so dark that she was nearly the same color as you.

“So, you’re the one my husband can’t shut up about. He keeps on talking about your beauty, but from where I’m standing, darling, you ain’t that beautiful.” The woman sneered at you as she inspected you.

If her physical appearance didn’t put you off, her attitude did the job for you. Annoyed with the woman you sighed, “Don’t tell me your ok with this? And please don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“Ok? Sweetie, I’m ecstatic with anything that allows me to afford my lifestyle. I would sell my own grandmother if it meant I could live like this. Honey, why would I ever be jealous of you?”

What a delusional one this chick was. You laughed at her and proceeded to read her. “Listen, sweetie, ummm, everything on your body is predominantly features of a black woman and under all that tanning lotion, you’re clearly not a black woman. You literally just came in here and called me ugly for having the same features you have that your plastic surgeon did a botch job on.”

You stood up face to face with Dominguez’s wife and even in your diminished shape she was frightened by you. “I bet your bitchass husband is fantsizing about me while he’s fucking you,” a look of embrassement from the woman confirmed your hunch and you contined. “I’m gonna go as far and say he called out my name on accident. Man, it must suck to be you.”

The wannabe was in tears by now and she ran out the room. Usually, you wouldn’t revel in the fact that a husband was mentally cheating on his wife, but since she was compliant, you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

Once again the door creaked open and this time it was Dominguez and he was pissed. He stormed towards you and punched you in the gut. “You made my wife upset, you little cunt! Be glad that you are of value to me or you be dead.”

You knew Dominguez didn’t care about his wife, but she must’ve gave him an earful and that set him off. Holding yourself back, you smirked at the man. “I don’t know what’s worse for you. Me getting to you and killing you or the Winter Soldier and Killmonger killing you. Either way you end up dead and you better pray that nothing happens to me, because those two I mentioned are nothing nice to play with.”

All the blood drained from Dominguez’s face when you mentioned the Winter Soldier. He didn’t know about Killmonger, but he didn’t sound fun and now suddenly he was fearing for his life.

His silence stuck with you and you knew you had him. You decided to taunt Dominiguez some more. “Remember when I said boyfriends? I was talking about them. So, even if I end up getting sold, you won’t be spending any of the money.”

Richard continued to keep his mouth shut as he tried to calmly exit the room. When he was outside the door, he ordered his head of security to hire more guards in case the Winter Soldier came looking for him. Now he had to get rid of you much quicker than he would like to, because he refused to be a victim of the infamous Winter Soldier.

---

Shuri came through and she was able to locate Marcus in 15 minutes instead of 30, and the team had him in their custody no less than 45 minutes.

Bucky was sharpening his knife trying to calm himself before interrogating Marcus when Tony approached him. “I know you hate me, Stark, but I love Y/N, so don’t be mad at her when we get her back. She was just doing what she believed what was right by protecting me.”

Tony held back his disdain for Bucky. He had to admit that he admired how fiercely Bucky wanted to fight for you. “Barnes, I’m not here to fight you. Y/N would whoop my ass if I did right now. I just wanted to say I appreciate how you’re fighting to get her back and that none of this is your fault.” Bucky drew his brows in confusion at Tony’s statement. Did Stark really compliment him?

“I know. I know. It doesn’t sound like me. But you can’t fight at your best if you keep thinking its your fault that Y/N is captured. You were ok with Y/N going to the auction, because you knew she was going to do it anyway. Don’t beat yourself up over that,” Tony advised the soldier.

“Thanks.”

“I still hate you by the way. I’ll just hate you less once we get her back.” Tony effectively killed the chance of any reconciliation between the two and left the room

As Tony and Bucky were having a moment, Rhodey was talking to Erik trying to calm him down. “You can’t just go in there and start beating on the dude.”

Erik looked at Rhodey in disbelief, “Oh, I can’t? Watch me.” Erik was walking to the door that Marcus was behind and Rhodey pulled him back before he turned the handle.

“You need to calm down and do it quickly! I’m not letting you blow the only lead we have on finding my niece. Do you understand me?” This was the first time Erik seen the older man lose his cool. He heard from you how your Uncle James was always the chill one despite how crazy our mom or Uncle Tony could be. So, he knew he needed to calm down for the sake of your uncle.

“A’ight. I’m sorry, man. I just need to find her asap.”

Rhodey understood the young man’s urgency. He clapped his shoulder and warned Erik. “We need Marcus alive. The cops need someone to arrest.”

Erik caught Rhodey’s drift. He wouldn’t he able to kill Marcus but whoever was the real culprit was fair game.

When Erik finally gathered himself together he went to the door where Bucky was at and entered the room. The two killers had to school their faces as they entered the room. It smelled of bodily fluids and the heat in the room made it no better.

Marcus was sitting in the middle of the room in his own mess. He was a nervous mess because he didn’t know who kidnapped him and then the crazies had a jaguar and wolf snapping in his face.

“They miss their mom and they know you have something to do with her being missing.” Marcus instantly recognized the man talking. He was the Winter Soldier and he was casually flipping a knife around.

Soon as he recognized Bucky Barnes, Marcus soiled himself once again. Erik scrunched up his face in disgust and pinched his nose. “Really, nigga? You already pissed now you gotta shit! I bet you didn’t have that same energy when you let Y/N go.”

“Look man, I didn’t have a choice,” Marcus yelled in desperation.

Pissed off, Bucky echoed Marcus. “No choice!” Bucky kicked Marcus’s chair, causing him to fall and have Apollo and Artemis growl in his face.

“Are you really gonna let em eat him?” Erik pointed to the predators.

“They haven’t ate all day and he’s obviously no help. Is that a problem?”

“Nah, it’s chow time.” Erik broke out into a smile while Apollo and Artemis widen their jaws for their new meal.

“She’s in Huntsville! Dominguez has a bunch of land out there, but he has a small army. He’ll know you’re coming.”

“We don’t care!” Bucky yelled already texting T’Challa with the information.

Erik bent down to Marcus. “Before I rock yo shit, why did you betray her?”

Marcus was a sobbing mess by now, he feared for his life. “I had a gambling debt at one of Dominguez’s underground casinos. He said it’ll clear my debt and I could get a little extra if I help him get her. Y/N’s an Avenger, I thought she would be out by now.”

As Bucky heard Marcus’s explanation, he crushed the door knob in frustration. What kind of man traded his friend for money? He took his knife out and aimed it at Marcus and cut off the top of his ear.

Annoyed that Bucky threw the knife so close to his face, Erik reprimanded him. “You had to throw it next to my face?” Bucky nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and exited the room. Erik quickly followed Bucky after he punched Marcus to silence his wails.

Thanks to Bucky texting the intel while they were still with Marcus, Shuri had the location of Dominguez. Everyone suited up as soon as a plan was formed, even though Bucky and Erik just wanted to go in guns blazing.

“You know we don’t plan on bringing Dominguez alive.” Bucky warned your parents.

Your mother left her husband’s side and for the first time looked Bucky in the eye. “I don’t give a damn. If he’s begging for mercy, you better let him bleed out. Just bring back my baby girl.” Now Erik and Bucky understood where you got a fierceness from.

Both men gave a head nod and a yes ma’am to her and left to go save their girl.

—-

You were getting anxious. If it was just you held captive, you would’ve already escaped and killed Dominguez, but you weren’t. The other girls were your responsibility and you promised them all that you would get them out safely and alive.

“Miss. Y/N, are your friends going to save us?” Lexie, the 10 year old asked you with hope in her eyes.

“Of course, honey. They’ll be here soon. If we get lucky, we might get to see the Scarlet Witch.”

Santana being the pessimist she was told the child not to get her hopes up. You were on the verge to cuss Santana out, but you heard gunshots and the screams of Dominguez’s guards.

A smile broke out on your face, help had came. You ordered the girls to grab the shivs they made in the past days.

All of you gathered together and were approaching the door when you heard footsteps by the door. You pushed the girls behind you and got in your fighting stance.

You abandoned your stance and fell to the floor in relief when you saw Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda at the door.

“It’s okay. I got you,” Steve hugged you being mindful of your injuries. You hugged everyone else and asked Wanda where Vision was. She told you he joined Tony and should be here soon.

“This family reunion is great, but we got people shooting at us and we need to get these girls to safety,” Nat reminded everyone.

“Nat’s right. You guys get the girls out and I’ll handle Dominguez.” You offered to your former teammates.

Steve was heavily against the idea. He claimed that you would be outnumber and your injuries would be a clear disadvantage. But you weren’t hearing none of it. You needed to kill Dominguez and your friends couldn’t get caught since they were still fugitives.

In the middle of your argument with Steve, your sword Shuri made for your birthday was suddenly in your hand. Then you heard the roar of Artemis and the howl of Apollo.

You smiled at your friends. “Game time, bitches.” This time Steve didn’t argue with you when you ordered them to get the girls to safety. He knew Bucky was there to save you and nothing would get in his way.

Thanks to your sword being made out of vibranium you easily dodge bullets and sliced through Dominguez’s henchmen. Your goal was to kill your captor and everyone who helped him, and you weren’t leaving the base til you did.

Taking two stairs at a time, you ran into the master bedroom and found Dominguez’s wife frantically throwing clothes, shoes, and jewelry into a duffel bag.

“Materialistic to the end, huh?” Your chuckle halted her packing. Immediately she was begging for her life and in that moment you truly didn’t know if you would leave her alive. You asked yourself WWCAD (what would Captain America do?) and regrettably you only knocked her out with a vase.

As you were tying up Richard’s wife, he came running into the room seeking refuge. Once he spotted you, he pointed his gun at you. “Damn, I thought you would’ve killed her. She knows too much about the operation.”

Dang, this man really didn’t care about anyone except himself. “You know I would say I feel bad for her, but she’s as guilty as you are.”

“Then maybe you should give me the same punishment as her,” he tried to bargain with you.

“Too late,” you stated and then you charged the man.

Your fight ended up in the hallway and near the railing. Dominguez and you were dodging each other’s hits. You lunged to stab him, but he fell over the railing but he grabbed you to bring you with him. You were expecting to feel the coolness of the marble floor, but instead you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms.

“I got you, princess.” Tears threatened to spill out when you saw Bucky and Erik. You kissed Erik and murmur a bunch of I love you. Then you jumped out of his arms and limped towards Bucky to do the same.

Unfortunately, your reunion got cut short by the groans of Dominguez. Erik and Bucky instantly got in defense mode but you had to pull them back. As much as you understood their anger, this was your kill.

You slammed your foot into Dominguez’s chest to stop him from getting up. “Remember when I told you I didn’t know if it was worse for you if I got to you if they got to you,” you pointed towards the two soldiers. He gave no answer, but looked at you in pure hatred.

“Well, I forgot about a third option and I’m gonna go with them, cuz they’ll kill you slower than I ever could.” Confusion and then fear crossed Dominguez’s face as he saw the jaguar and wolf prowling towards him out of the shadows.

While Apollo and Artemis were snarling in his face, you bent down to his ear and whispered, “You know my favorite thing about you douchebag dudes is the fear on your face once you know you lost and how you’re gonna die soon. It’s the best feeling.” You patted his chest as you smugly mocked his first conversation he had with you.

Once you started walking away you heard the crunching and breaking of his bones and his cries of pain as Apollo and Artemis ripped into him.

The adrenaline must’ve stopped pumping through you, because you fell to the ground before either Bucky or Erik could get to you. Blood was seeping out of your stomach when the boys reached you. Each of them were yelling it wasn’t your time yet as you repeatedly told them you were sorry. Luckily, Erik managed to insert a Kimoyo bead into your wound to stop the bleeding. And once again you blacked out as you have done so many times this week.

—-

“You’re very lucky Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N based on all your daughter’s injuries she should be dead,” you heard the doctor inform your parents.

“Thank God!” Your mother praised as she sat in the chair next to your bed.

“Ummm, but is it necessary for them being here?” You could only assume that the doctor was referring to Apollo and Artemis, since you could sense their presence.

“They stay,” Erik ordered leaving no room for negotiations.

A few moments later and you felt your eyes flutter open. No one noticed that you were awake until they heard you groan in pain.

Your first words were where was Bucky and Erik.

Erik left his corner in the room and ran up to you. “Hey, princess. I’m right here and Barnes not here right now. We have too many eyes on us right now.”

Usually you would be understanding, but you didn’t feel complete until you had both men by your side. So, you pleaded with Erik to get him and he was about to comply when Secretary Ross entered your hospital room.

Automatically, you were on the defense and tried to sit up despite the pain you were in. Last time you saw Ross, you cussed him out so you doubted he would be happy to see you again.

“Y/L/N, it’s good to see you’re doing well.”

“What do you want,” you croaked out.

Ross widen his stance in an attempt to intimidate you. “We have reports from the other girls you saved and they said that Steve Rogers and the others were there helping them. Do you know where they have could’ve gone? And please don’t lie, the girls did say you did talk to Rogers.”

Your monitor was beeping quickly indicating the spike in your blood pressure. At this point, Ross was more than a thorn in your side and he was getting dangerously close to be on your kill list.

It also must’ve been your mother’s breaking point, because she jumped out of her seat and was in Ross’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me!!!” Your mama had to be furious to be cussing. You only heard her cuss a handful of times in her lifetime. “My daughter is in the damn hospital barely escaping death and you’re worried about capturing damn Captain America??? My baby girl is right, that heart attack must’ve fucked with your head more than you thought. Now I suggest you get out of this room or that wolf and jaguar are gonna have a new chew toy.”

Ross made the smart decision of leaving the room with no protests. You knew your mom could be scary, but for her to successfully threaten the Secretary of State, she earned a new level of respect from you.

“Damn, Mrs. Y/L/N remind me not to piss you off.” Erik laughed in admiration.

While looking at you and giving you a motherly caress, your mama replied to Erik. “I don’t play about my kids, even the ones who give me the most headaches. So, it’s best you and Barnes remember that.”

You almost couldn’t contain your excitement. That warning your mama gave Erik was also a seal of approval for both of them to date you. Who would’ve thought your mama would be open to you dating an assassin.

For a while you talked with your family. Shannon tried to apologize for unknowingly helping you get kidnapped, but you threatened to burn all her wigs if she tried apologizing again. That quickly got her to shut up.

The nurse came by and told everyone that visiting hours were over. Everyone left except Erik and when she tried to get him to leave, he gave her a deadly stare until she scurried off.

Running your fingers through Erik’s dreads calmed you and him. It was very possible that you wouldn’t have survived and never had the chance to see each other again.

Tears were forming in Erik’s eyes and this was the second time you saw him cry. Between sniffles Erik spoke for the first time since you two been left alone. “I almost lost you, Y/N. That scared the shit out of me. I’m about to ask T’Challa to assign a Dora to follow you when me or Barnes are not around.”

Half of you was grateful that you had a man that cared that much about you, but the other half was annoyed that you were about to get a 24 hour detail after this whole debacle. “I’m safe, E. But don’t you think it may be a little extreme to have someone watching me all the time?”

“Hell no.” Welp, there’s goes any negotiation. You didn’t have the energy to fight Erik on the topic, so you let it go for now.

Erik jokes with you for a bit to lift your spirits, but he knew eventually you would ask for Bucky again. He told you what you already suspected which was that Bucky felt guilty about your abduction and was avoiding you. You told Erik to get Bucky and tell him if he refused to come you would never speak to him again.

Within 10 minutes, Bucky was sulking in your room. Erik excused himself, knowing that you two needed this intimate moment and appreciative that he spent time with you already.

“You two seem really close now,” you pointed out to Bucky after Erik clapped his shoulder.

Seemingly nervous, his metal hand scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, when the girl you both love gets kidnapped it brings enemies closer.”

Bucky made no attempt to get near you and it broke your heart. In the time you needed him the most he refused to be there for you, but you understood it, he was still blaming himself.

“Doll, I really shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”

“It’s not safe. I heard that Ross came by looking for intel. Someone can come by and turn me in.”

Although, it was a valid concern, you knew that wasn’t the real reason Bucky thought he shouldn’t be there. “I have my own hospital floor and Tony made sure everyone signed a NDA, so try again, Barnes.”

This time Bucky moved towards you and you could see the pain in his eyes. Hell, you practically felt the pain rolling off of him onto you.

Bucky was crying by the time he sat next to you. He laid his head on your stomach and you could feel his tears seeping through your hospital gown.

When he finally composed himself, Bucky spoke.”Fuck doll, if I hadn’t encouraged you to go to that damn auction you wouldn’t be in this damn hospital bed.”

You lifted his chin to get his attention. “I’m only gonna say this once. It’s not your fault. I was gonna go with or without your permission.”

Bucky opened his mouth to apologize, but you held up your hand to stop him. “James Buchanan Barnes if you are fixing those gifted lips of yours to apologize, I promise you I will cut off your dick and you know how much I love it, baby. You wouldn’t want to do that to me, would you, babe?”

Laughter filled the air and it was music to your ears. Bucky’s laugh was low like his voice but it held a certain lightness that Bucky must’ve retained before joining the army.

“Ok no more apologies. But you’re gonna have someone with you at all times just to make me feel better.”

“I basically told her the same thing and she didn’t argue with me,” Erik added while he was standing in the doorway eating some jello-o.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at the two men. They really thought you were gonna comply with them. “I didn’t argue with you because I’m too mentally tired to do so. But watch, once I’m feeling better I’m cussing both of you out for trying to tell me what to do.”

Both muttered a ‘we’ll see’ and laughed at you. Throughout the entire night the boys kept you entertained and not once did they argue. It was a rare occurrence for Bucky and Erik get along and you hoped for more of it in the future.

Sleep eventually claimed you and you were glad that you had your two favorite men by your side as it always should be

Tags: @blackreaders-assemble @destinio1 @lildashofmelanin @nickidub718 @dumbchick @chaneajoyyy @wakanda-inspired @blackpinup22 @pastelastronomy24 @cyrioussoul @valkyriesnymph @bitchacho25 @yoyolovesbucky @toniilaney @euphoric05 @marvelmaree @dessianna1

[vaultsexteen]

It was close to 5 in the morning right now, but it wasn’t like anyone could tell - Alaska was always dark as shit, doubly so when snowstorms blotted out the sky, and Skinny Dick’s eyes were so shot to hell that he had a tough time even when the sun was out. Which was why at Skinny Dick’s Inn, the lights always stayed on, 24/7; it was a beacon for any weary travelers going down the old highways leading up to Fairbanks, and it helped Dick not stumble into any of the stuffed animals when he wanted to go to the old outhouse to take a leak.

Now, as a bartender, he’d seen his fair share of folks who were down and out on their luck: mercs after a job gone bust, people with barely a cap to their name trying to stave off frostbite, that kind of thing. A lot of them came through Skinny Dick’s bar, and most of them got a room at the inn and went away by the next day, off to the next job - or the next bar, if they weren’t so lucky.

He’s been kind of wracking his brain with this latest one, though - a ghoul in a fancy brahmin-leather overcoat and gloves had come in, and she’d rented a room for a whole week. Usually, she’d go out, come back and buy a lot of the hard stuff, go to her room for the night, and return the bottles in the morning. After a few days, it looks like she opted to stay at the bar this time; in fact, she’d been at the bar all day, chatting up the other customers and even getting a bit friendly with a couple of them. Right now, as he was tidying up for the morning, she was sat at the far end of the bar nursing her sixth bottle of Skinny Dick’s Special Hooch, looking like she was gonna burn a hole in the cabin with nothing but her stare. He’d put a few plays on the jukebox, for his sake as much as hers - it was pretty hard to be sad to Let The Good Times Roll, after all.

Positioning himself behind the bar to take stock of whatever spirits he still had left, he figured that he might as well try to check up on the tenant. “Anything else I can get’cha?”

She shakes her head, and smirks. “Nah. You can take this one back,” she said, raising the now-empty bottle triumphantly.

A bottle of Special Hooch was enough to get a ghoul drunk, and six bottles were probably enough to give even a ghoul alcohol poisoning, but she’d gone through all of them like they were water and she didn’t seem any more wasted for it. Skinny Dick didn’t know whether to feel impressed, terrified, or just sad about that; he just nodded and took the bottle, then stashed it under the bar to take back to the still later.

Meanwhile, the tenant had taken out a small, colorful glass pipe and a lighter from her coat, and then lit the pipe. A smell that was something between rubbing alcohol and battery acid began to fill the air as she took a few puffs.

“What’s that, there?” he asked, mostly curious. No way in hell it could be tobacco, and if it was some kind of mutated strain of weed, it was really mutated.

The acid smoke formed a small cloud around her as she laughed. “Got the recipe from out west,” she says, “from a bunch of ghouls in… where was it?” She turns the pipe over, and smiles. “Mexico, I think. Yanks call it smooch.”

“Smells like an energy cell shit itself,” he chuckles. “Jesus, what’s in that?”

Her smile widens. “Hey, irradiated cave fungus and Abraxo can do wonders. You should try it for yourself,” she says, holding out the pipe.

Well, if Skinny Dick stands for anything, it’s that everything ought to be tried at least once. And if he drops dead, it’ll at least have been in the spirit of exploration - so he takes the pipe, takes a hit, and waits to become the first ghoul ever launched into space. It doesn’t happen, but he does feel a bit lighter, just like how he remembers how a reefer used to make him feel. Plenty impressive, he’ll give it that.

“Good, huh?” she says, looking the most at ease he’s ever seen her. “And there was only a drop of the stuff in that kindling. It’s plenty potent - so I wouldn’t recommend it for humans.” She takes the pipe back, and takes another puff. “Tends to turn ‘em into vegetables. Makes a killing in the ghoul market, though.”

He leans over the bar, the old wood creaking under his weight. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where anybody could get a dealer for that stuff, wouldja?” he whispers, though there’s no real need to. “A fella might be looking to buy some real soon.”

Her smile only grew bigger. “You lookin’ at ‘er.” She lets the pipe hang around her mouth as she extends a hand. “Chives Chen, independent trader, at your service.”

“Skinny Dick,” he says, taking her hand in his own, “owner and proprietor of Skinny Dick’s.”

“Committed to the brand.” Chives nods once. “I like that.” Pulling her hand away, she rests her elbows on the bar and cradles her head in her other hand. “Listen, Dick, can I talk to you on the level?”

He shrugs. “Shoot. We’re talkin’ now, right?”

“Right…” She sits up straight, and folds her hands like she’s playing poker, without the cards. “Listen, my company is interested in expanding our routes, see, and I heard from a little birdie that the Alaskan frontier might be in the market for some Brahma.”

“Y’ heard right. Always willing to trade for more meat around these parts.” He finds himself nodding along - so far, he likes the cut of her jib. “Not a lot of grazing ‘round here, see, and folks need all the grub they can get. Hard enough to keep everybody halfway fed in here, so I could use a steady line of beef.”

She raises her brows, then. “My good Dick,” she says, hint of a laugh tinting her voice, “I think you misunderstood me. I never said I was selling any meat.”

“What d’you got, then? Leather? Horns?” He pauses. “Glue...?”

“Keep going. Maybe you’ll even get it.”

“Don’t make me guess, ma’am,” he groans, throwing his hands up. “I feel like I’m on an episode of Red Tag, over here!” He can’t help but laugh at his own joke, even if there was no way in hell anyone would’ve cared about remembering old game shows.

She takes the pipe out of her mouth and takes a long drag - the smell of the weird smoke doesn’t really get any better with time, especially not when it was being blown in your face. “That was the one Johnny Collins hosted, right?”

“Right, right.” He takes out his own leather pouch of hand-rolled tobacco from his apron, and strikes a match. “Y’know, he’d say somethin’ like, ‘you’re it, America!’, and he’d ask people these fuckin’ impossible questions while they did these challenges…” He lights the cigarette, then takes a long, deep breath.

“Yeah, swimming through jello and trying to hit an apple on some guy’s head,” she adds, laughing. “You could win shit like, what, a voucher for one week’s worth of gas? A whole case of smokes?”

“If you were lucky, you could win a trip to Hawaii or something.” He takes an ashtray out from behind the bar, and taps some ash into it. “Say, you ever been there?”

Chives shakes her head. “Lots of places under the sun I ain’t been to yet, Dick, and that includes most of The Last Frontier.” She dumps out some acidic-smelling ash from her pipe onto the ashtray, and sighs. “I’ll cut right past the fat of it, man. I got a lot of people out in California who have a lot of jet to sell. You want in, or what?”

“...Oh,” he says, halfway into putting the cig near his lipless mouth, “oh, that was it.” He leans back, crossing his arms. “Yeah - nah. Not that I don’t like jet, but… look, you’re not gonna find much buyers for that ‘round here.” He takes a drag and adds, “Down south in Anchorage, though, I hear they eat jet for breakfast, so you might wanna take a look-see for your friends over there.��� He taps his chin, then, as he struggles to remember something else. “Some other folks, too… damn, what was it called again? Psykerjet? Ah, I dunno exactly, but they like that shit.”

Chives doesn’t look disappointed by the news; in fact, there’s a new glint in her eye that would’ve been easy to miss, but he’s seen it before. “Alright. Thanks for the tip, Dick.” She puts her pipe back in her coat, pulls out a single cap, and she sets it on the bar as gently as can be. Then she gets up, and walks off in the direction of the rooms. “You’ve been a big help.”

“No prob,” he says, but she’s soon out of sight. He takes the time to inspect the cap she set down; an old, relatively unbent Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle-cap. He thought there was nothing special about it besides the fact that Sunset caps were pretty rare around these parts, until he turned it around - there, someone had painted a shiny, blue star in the middle.

When he came back from the outhouse to do his usual morning rounds at the rooms, he saw that the room Chives had rented was pretty tidy already. He takes a final look around - she hadn’t moved much stuff around or hid anything in the floorboards, which was fine and dandy with him. Skinny Dick supposed that she’d packed her bags and moved on to the next job - or the next bar, if it came down to that - but he found himself rooting for her all the same.

[parvinasseaynk72insurance-blog]

Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance

Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance

Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :COVERAGE-FINDER.NET

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Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance

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Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance

[garynsmith]

What Redfin’s IPO means for real estate

http://ift.tt/2tqebmq

Reposted with permission from Rob Hahn.

I have been waiting, wanting, hoping for Redfin to go public for a few years now. For a bunch of reasons, mostly having to do with getting another company in real estate to have to report publicly about its operations and its numbers.

Well, my wish has been granted. Redfin just filed its S-1 to go public a couple of days ago.

I don’t have any strong opinions at the moment, besides wishing Glenn Kelman and crew lots of luck. But looking through Redfin’s S-1, I had a few random thoughts. I figured I’d share them with you all, taking a bit of a break from the internal machinations of NAR.

This is a game changer. The industry as we know it will never be the same after Redfin’s IPO. I’ll post on that later, but I wrote most of this before I started thinking harder, so I figure I might as well share this with you all while I work on the bigger piece.

$100 million IPO? Valuation?

The first thought that struck me was that if Redfin manages to price correctly and raise $100 million from its IPO, it would dwarf what Zillow managed in its IPO in 2011: $69.2 million. And we’ve all seen what Zillow became after its IPO.

What will Redfin be after its IPO?

It’s difficult to compare apples and oranges (the two companies have totally different business models, after all), but if Zillow has $846 million in 2016 revenues, and Redfin has $267 million in 2016 revenues, that’s approximately a 3:1 ratio. Zillow’s current market cap is $9 billion. So that would make Redfin worth about $3 billion?

On the other hand, Redfin claims to be a brokerage company, so maybe the proper comp is Realogy? Well, Realogy’s market cap is about $4.5 billion on 2016 revenues of $5.8 billion. That’s right; its valuation is lower than its revenues — by $1.3 billion.

And Re/Max, a franchisor, has a market cap of about $1.7 billion on $176 million in 2016 revenues. It’s hard to think of Re/Max as a comp for Redfin though, because they’re so different.

Guess we’ll see.

Comparing to Zillow

One of the more interesting comparisons is Redfin and Zillow at the time when Zillow went public.

The big obvious thing to note is revenues. Zillow had $30 million in revenues in 2010 when it filed to go public; Redfin has $267 million in revenues in 2016.

But the two things I thought were most interesting was how much each company was spending on sales and marketing and on technology.

Zillow in its S-1 said that it spent the following in 2010:

Sales and marketing: $14.9 million

Technology and development: $10.6 million

Redfin in its S-1 reports:

Marketing: $28.6 million

Technology and development: $34.6 million

Redfin is way ahead of Zillow in terms of where the two companies were at the IPO filing.

Now, of course in 2017, Zillow dwarfs Redfin in every measure: revenue, technology spend, marketing spend, etc. In 2016, while Redfin spent $34.6 million on technology and $28.6 million on marketing, Zillow spent $273 million and $380 million, respectively.

But, let’s recall that in 2011, when Zillow was going public, the top dog in online real estate was Move, Inc., which operates realtor.com. And Move was magnitudes larger than Zillow back then, similar to how Zillow is magnitudes larger than Redfin today.

For example, 2011 Move, Inc:

Revenues: $191.7 million (versus $30 million for Zillow)

Sales and marketing: $68.6 million (versus $14.9 million for Zillow)

Technology and development: $34.7 million (versus $10.6 million for Zillow)

At the time of Zillow’s IPO, very few people thought Zillow was going to be the top dog in real estate within a couple of years. And yet, that’s exactly what happened.

Do some ratios though.

Move : Zillow

Revenues: 6.39

Sales and marketing: 4.6

Technology and development: 3.3

Zillow : Redfin

Revenues: 3.2

Sales and marketing: 13.3

Technology and development: 7.9

In other words, it’s going to be a lot more difficult for Redfin to catch Zillow than it was for Zillow to catch Move. The key spending ratios are dramatically higher for Zillow : Redfin.

This is not to say it can’t happen or won’t happen. It’s just to make an observation.

One difference is that Move didn’t increase its investment into technology as the upstart Zillow was breathing down its neck. Here’s Move, Inc.’s technology spending as Zillow was climbing up:

2011: $34.7 million

2010: $34.3 million

2009: $27.8 million

2008: $26.3 million

2007: $34.6 million

Compare that to Zillow’s technology spend over the past few years:

2016: $273 million

2015: $198.6 million

2014: $84.7 million

2013: $48.5 million

2012: $26.6 million

You find similar patterns in the marketing spend; Move actually decreased its marketing spend over the five years from 2007-2011. Zillow dramatically increased marketing from 2012-2016.

I have a feeling that Spencer Rascoff and crew aren’t going to sit back and watch Redfin go public, ramp up its marketing and technology, become a serious competitor and — do nothing or even worse, start decreasing its own investments as Move once did.

If anything, I could easily see an arms race between those two companies that will suck the oxygen out of the room for everybody else.

We’ll see.

Where’s #StopRedfin?

Finally, the S-1 really makes me think that Redfin should send a case of wine to Zillow or something for providing a smokescreen of distraction as evil personified in real estate.

Because while the industry kept Jay Thompson busy and employed with all of the outrage and #Zaterade and Zillow Fever stuff, Redfin built up precisely that which the Zillow haters constantly harp on Zillow about.

For example, the Zestimate. The industry hates the Zestimate, right? Because no computer can be as accurate as a living agent. Well, Redfin has the Redfin Estimate, which the S-1 describes thusly:

“Our access to detailed data about every MLS listing in markets we serve has helped us build what we believe is the most accurate automated home-valuation tool. According to a 2017 study we commissioned, among industry-leading websites that display valuations for active listings, 64 percent of the listings for which we provided a public valuation estimate sold within 3 percent of that estimate, compared to only 29 percent and 16 percent of the public estimates for the two other websites in the study.”

Mum’s the word, though, huh? Zestimate equals Satan’s spawn. Redfin Estimate, made far more accurate thanks to unrestricted access to MLS data, equals enjoy the silence.

How about the whole “Zillow is going to become a brokerage and disintermediate the agent!”? Well, Redfin is a brokerage — and is actively trying to disintermediate (that is, put out of business) every agent who doesn’t work for Redfin.

In that, Redfin is no different from any other brokerage, who all compete to gain market share at the expense of other brokerages and agents.

But I think about the outrage from the real estate interwebs because Zillow “crossed the line” into the brokerage world with Zillow Instant Offers and wonder why the chorus of crickets when it comes to Redfin.

Speaking of Zillow Instant Offers, that sucker triggered so many fragile, fear-driven agents that there’s a #StopZillow movement complete with website. Amazingly, in one of the announcements about Bob Goldberg’s being named as CEO, the comments are all full of “When are you gonna fight against Zillow?” type of stuff.

Meanwhile, Redfin is debuting Redfin Now. Which is exactly like Zillow Instant Offers, except that no other agents or brokerages can participate. Cool!

And the best part is, you know all that “Zillow is making billions exploiting our data!” stuff that’s like, everywhere? Well, read ’em and weep:

“As a brokerage, Redfin has complete access to all the homes listed for sale in the local multiple listing services, or MLSs, in the markets we serve. MLSs are used by real estate agents to list properties and coordinate sales. Although websites that do not operate a brokerage often have access to these MLSs, the terms of their access vary widely. As a result, brokerage websites often get more listings from MLSs, or more detail about each listing, than other websites.

“Access to this extensive data, paired with local knowledge, lets us give our customers what we believe to be the most comprehensive information on homes for sale.

“Additionally, our streaming architecture is designed to recommend listings to our customers by mobile alert or email soon after these listings appear in the MLS. These advantages in loading listings data and quickly notifying consumers come not just at the listing debut in the MLS, but in recognizing when a price changes or a home sells. For over 80 percent of these listings, we can show the listing on our website and mobile application within five minutes of its debut in the MLS. According to a 2017 study we commissioned, we notify our customers about newly listed homes between three to 18 hours faster than other leading real estate websites.”

Let’s not forget that Redfin was never seriously a listing brokerage, even with its 1 percent commission thing, for years. Most of its revenues came from, and still come from (70 percent or so) representing buyers who come to the Redfin website to view listings of (you guessed it!) other brokerages.

Talk about making billions on the data of real estate agents and brokers, yet, no outrage.

But Rob, that’s OK, because Redfin is a brokerage and a participant of the MLS and has all due rights to all of the data. Well, if you believe Redfin is a brokerage — I guess you also have to believe that OpenDoor is a brokerage. They both offer full cooperation and compensation, after all.

Redfin is not a brokerage, guys. Seriously. Check your premises.

Why do I say that?

Because there is no way in hell Redfin is going public at brokerage valuations. Nobody who matters thinks Redfin is a brokerage. Look at the coverage in the media — it all mentions Zillow. It doesn’t mention Realogy and Re/Max and HomeServices of America.

Goldman Sachs doesn’t agree to underwrite Redfin’s IPO, if it thinks Redfin is a real estate brokerage. The VC firms backing Redfin don’t allow Redfin to IPO at brokerage valuations.

The reason is simple: money money money!

Zillow’s market cap is $9 billion on revenues of $846 million.

Realogy’s market cap is $4.5 billion on 2016 revenues of $5.8 billion. Realogy’s valuation is below its annual revenues.

If Redfin is a brokerage, making $256 million in revenues and losing tens of millions every year. It’s worth zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada.

If Redfin is a technology company that happens to make money from commissions — it’s worth $3 billion or so (or more!)

I’ll do a bigger post later on Redfin once I’ve thought through some more things and read the S-1 more, but boy, all y’all who are on the #StopZillow crusade are going to be awfully sad when the supercharged Redfin with IPO cash and stock-as-currency comes to eat you all for lunch and makes all of your worst nightmares come true.

Conclusion

I am writing the conclusion after my “let me think about this more” time so, let’s just say that this is a big deal. I can see everything changing in the relatively near future. Yep, big things poppin’ and little things steppin’. For now, enjoy the tidbits of thought above.

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Robert Hahn is the Managing Partner of 7DS Associates, a marketing, technology and strategy consultancy focusing on the real estate industry. Check out his personal blog, The Notorious R.O.B. or find him on Twitter: @robhahn.

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