#gonna let the buyers have em for a while on their own though! they did pay for it after all lol
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all commissions officially complete and sent!! hell yeah!!
#neyâs idle chatter (random textposts)#just a mini update for you all ig? iâm really happy to have gotten em all done in a short period of time#didnât wanna make people wait lol#anyway iâll post them⌠eventually? maybe?#gonna let the buyers have em for a while on their own though! they did pay for it after all lol#but i do plan on showing them off eventually! and now i can get back to maybe working on another mini comic
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You Can Be the Boss
Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.2k
Request: N/A but itâs based off of this rambling here
Summary: Women are beautiful, but they sure donât make âem 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 didnât stop a portion of muggle born students from feeling a bit homesick to things their muggle friends did at their own schools. Thatâs 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 wasnât like they werenât 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 âschool appropriateâ. 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?Â
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 didnât 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.
âYou cominâ tonight?â 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.
âYeah. âSpose I am.â 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.
âOi! What does she think sheâs doing? You really gonna let her take the blunt from you like that just because sheâs fit?â 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.
âIf youâre so bothered by it why donât you go take it back yourself?â Neville sassed. They all looked at Ron waiting for a response, laughing as he had nothing to say but a small âpiss offâ under his breath.
-----------------------------------------
Neville wasnât one to put too much into his appearance. Heâd 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 couldnât help but wanna look nice. Was she flirting with him? He sighed as he glanced at his appearance in the mirror for a bit. âI doubt it.â 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 didnât 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 couldnât help but let his thoughts drift. âWhy am I wigging out? Itâs not like we havenât talked before.â He said out loud to himself. (Y/n) was a frequent buyer from him and even though he didnât 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, sheâd 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, heâd sell it to her. He had to admit, after a while he even started to enjoy the girlâs appearance. It gave him something to look forward to during his mundane school week.
âReady to go, Nev? If we leave now, we can use a secret passage my brothersâ showed me.â Ron said, opening the door to Nevilleâs 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 didnât 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 couldnât 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.
âItâs a bloody shame that sheâs so fucking hot. Poor thing is going to embarrass herself singing up there.â 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-â
âYou taste like the fourth of July
Malt liquor on your breath, my, myâ
She sang into the microphone softly. Nevilleâs jaw dropped in awe at the sound of her voice which was nothing short of angelic. He wasnât 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 wasnât even the right word to describe the state he was in.Â
âI love you but I donât know whyâŚâ
His eyes were focused on her lips, taking in every word she said. Harry nudged him, mouthing the words âlook upâ 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 dumbersâ argument ceased as she made very clear eye contact with their awkward friend.
âYou can be the boss, daddy
You can be the bossâ
âThatâs all me boys.â 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.
âI like you a lot, I like you a lot
Donât let it stopâ
âThis is totally unfair. One of the hottest chicks in our year and sheâs pining over Longbottom.â Seamus grumbled, grimacing as the liquor went down his throat hard. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
âJealous much?â he asked no one in particular, as that could be said about most of the guys they were sitting with.
âBad to the bone, sick as a dog
You know that I like, like you a lot
Donât let it stopâ
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 didnât last long cause once again, Ron chimed in with something else.
âNeville? Bad? He still sleeps in pajama sets!â he exclaimed quietly, earning a âshh!â from Harry. The boy in question leaned forward, looking at his ginger friend.
âIs this really coming from the boy who needs Mummyâs howler to fall asleep at night?â that shut him right up. Harry snorted, high fiving him for bringing up the embarrassing piece of information.Â
The girl continued to sing, eyes never leaving Nevilleâs for a second. Ron and Seamusâs petty comments had ceased as well. Even though they werenât 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.Â
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. Heâd deal with that another time.
âCome back to my room and split a spliff?â she asked, looking down as she picked at her fingers. He grabbed her hands, leaning in close to her.
âOnly if I can eat your pussy afterwards.â 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:
âSeriously?! Is it really that easy? What does he have that I donât?â Seamus said, mind running over the times heâd attempted saying things like that. The only place it had gotten him was on the ground after he had his balls kicked!
âItâs gotta be the weed. After all, who wouldnât wanna sleep with the weed man? Free pot!â Ron exclaimed, trying to rationalize what had just happened.
âArenât you the residential booze man of Hogwarts? If that was the case, youâd have an easier time with women too.â 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.
#harry potter imagines#harry potter imagine#Harry Potter#Neville Longbottom#neville x reader#neville longbottom x reader#neville x you#neville longbottom x you#neville x y/n#neville longbottom x y/n
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Balooâs 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!Â
AO3 link
A couple months agoâŚ
âI wonder why those archaeologists were so cagey about what weâre delivering?â Kit wondered aloud. Baloo shrugged.
âI donât know, kiddo. All Becky could get out of emâ was that it was some kind of rock.â he snorted. âImagine, paying for express delivery for a rock.â
âCome on Baloo,â Kit pushed. âItâs gotta be somethinâ more important than that- didnât you hear who weâre delivering it to?â
âNo,â Baloo admitted. âI sorta zoned out while Becky was lecturing me.â Kit rolled his eyes.
âItâs going to Scrooge McDuck, the-â
âThe richest duck in the world?!â Baloo yelled, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. âThatâs who this rock is goinâ to?!â
âUh huh.â Kit glanced down at the map, grinning slightly at Balooâs reaction. âAnd after that, weâre delivering those farm animals to-â
âWho cares about them, Lilâ Britches!â Baloo laughed, tussling the cubâs hair under his hat. âWeâre gonna meet Scrooge McDuck!â Kit laughed with him, reaching up to shove the hat out of his eyes.
âYeah, itâs gonna be-â the laughter dried up in his throat. âPirates!â
âItâs gonna be pirates?â Baloo blinked at him. âIs that some new sort of slang?â
âNo, Baloo! Pirates!â he pointed out the windshield. âUp ahead!â
âWhoa!â Baloo swerved to avoid the oncoming plane. âHold on, Lilâ Britches, Iâm gonna try to lose them!â as he turned, hooks sunk into the back of the sea duck, the radio crackled to life.
âHello, Baloo and Kit Cloudkicker!â a voice said. âPrepare to be boarded by-â
âSorry Don Garbage, Iâm afraid itâs not a good time,â Baloo said. He and Kit laughed as the pirate gave a yell of frustration.
âIt is Don Karnage! I am here to steal your cargo!â
Baloo smirked. âYou mean these chickens?â he asked.
âDonât forget the goat!â Kit added, snickering. Baloo grinned, glancing back at the animals in question. Their cages had broken open during Balooâs turn, but the animals themselves were unharmed.
âYeah- youâre welcome to emâ, if you want them that badly!â he said cheerfully.
âNo! I am here for the stone!â Karnage yelled.
âNo can do, Karny!â Baloo said. âWeâve got a very important buyer who weâre supposed to be deliverinâ it to!â 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.
âYou sure showed him, Baloo,â Kit said, grinning.
âOf course, no sky pirateâs gonna out fly me,â Baloo said with a smug smile. He glanced back again to check on how their cargo took the spin, and gasped.
âWhat? What is it?â Kit spun, peeking over the top of his seat. When he saw what Baloo had seen, he gasped too.
Behind them was- was-
âItâs a chicken goat!â Kit yelled.
âItâs hideous is what it is!â Baloo replied. âI donât remember loading that on the plane!â The creature bleated and charged at him, pecking at him aggressively. Baloo screamed, shoving at it- only for his hands to get pecked violently.
âGet it off, get it off, get it off!â he shouted, scrambling for the Seaduckâs 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.
âBaloo!â Kit protested. âThe stone fell down on that island!â
âAs far as Iâm concerned, the chicken goat can have it! No delivery is worth beinâ attacked by that thing again!â
âWell, what are you gonna tell Miss Cunningham?â Kit pressed.
âI donât know, Lilâ Britches- help me figure somethinâ out!â he chuckled. âSheâll never believe us if we told her the truth.â
âWell, youâre right about that,â Kit admitted. âOkay, Iâll help you.â The pair made up a story to tell Rebecca when they got back, and tried to put the horrifying creature out of their minds.
âŚ
As the plane came to a full stop, Della smiled at Dewey in a way which she hoped was encouraging.
âNot bad,â she said. âBut maybe less crashing next time?â
âAgreed,â Huey said, stumbling up behind them and leaning against Dellaâs seat, a daze expression on his face.
âLess crashing,��� Dewey agreed. âAfter all, I canât be Dew-mazing if I just crash the plane! Thatâs Launchpadâs thing!â
âNot what I meant, but weâll discuss that later,â Della said. She glanced at the building and grinned. âLook on the bright side, at least you got us to Higher for Hire! letâs get out of here and talk to the pilot that delivered the stone!â she opened the door and jumped to the dock, then turned and held out her hands for Huey.
âOh my goodness!â A woman cried, running up to them as she pulled him over. âAre you all okay?!â
âWeâre fine,â Della assured her, reaching for Dewey and pulling him onto the dock as well. âRight, kids?â
âJust a few bruises,â Huey confirmed.
âI told ya they were probably fine, Beckers,â a bear said, ambling out of the building. âIâve had worse crashes than that and walked away without a scratch!â the woman ignored him, smiling at Della instead.
âIâm Rebecca Cunningham, owner of Higher for Hire,â she said cheerfully. âCan we help you?â
âYeah,â Della said, eyes brightening. âWeâre looking for the pilot- we need to ask about a delivery they made a while ago.â
âWas there an issue with the delivery?â Rebecca asked, her smile growing tense. Behind her, the bear winced. Della shook her head.
âNo, we just want to know the status of the item that was delivered,â she said. âWhere it ended up.â
âAlright,â Rebecca said. She glanced at the bear. âBaloo?â
âRight,â Baloo said, nodding. âIâm the pilot- could ya describe this item to me?â he asked them.
âBetter, I can show you,â Huey said. He took out Isabella Finchâs journal, opened it to the stone of what was, and held it out to Baloo. He leaned down and peered at it.
âYeah- yeah, that looks familiar.â he stood, rubbing his head. âHold on, let me think⌠ah! Got it!â he snapped his fingers. âThat stone fell out of my plane while my navigator and I were deliverinâ it. Hold on, Iâll go talk to âim and find out where it fell. Be back in a bit.â
He walked over to a yellow plane, and Rebecca gestured for them to follow her.
âWhile he talks to Kit, why donât you all come inside?â 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. â
âThis can be my thing!â 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 nameâŚ
âDewey!â Della called, snapping him out of his daydream.
âComing!â he yelled, hurrying inside.
âThe stone was supposed to go to my uncle,â Della was saying to Rebecca. Rebeccaâs eyes widened.
âScrooge McDuck is your uncle?â
âYep! In fact, heâs the one who sent us to find out what happened to it. ItâsâŚâ she glanced down at Huey and Dewey. âKind of important.â
âWell, Iâm so sorry it was lost,â Rebecca apologized. âBaloo doesnât normally lose cargo- he said they ran into some trouble on the way there, and they werenât able to retrieve it.â
âWellâŚâ Balooâs voice said, sounding sheepish. âThatâs not exactly true.â 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.
âYouâre my idol from the video I only just saw a minute ago!â he said, rushing up to Kit and shaking his hand.
âUm, thanks?â Kit said, sounding confused and wary. âBut⌠why am I your idol?â
âI saw that thing you were doing! With the silver board!â Kitâs eyes lit up.
âYou mean Cloudkicking!â
âYeah, that!â Dewey grinned. âI think it could totally be my thing! Teach me EVERYTHING you know!â
âIâd be happy to!â Kit looked up at Baloo. âIs that okay, Baloo?â
âSure thing, kid,â Baloo said, smiling. âYou can show âim on the way to the island where the stone ended up.â
âOh,â Della cut in. âThatâs alright, we can fly there on our own! We just need the coordinates.â
âItâs no trouble-â Rebecca started. Baloo cleared his throat.
âI think your plane could use a bit of tuning up,â he said, aiming a thumb at the Cloudslayer, which was sinking below the waves. âOur mechanic will take a look at it while Kit and I fly you out.â Della sighed.
âFine.â
âGreat! Right this way!â Baloo marched out of Higher for Hire, a hand on Kitâs shoulder. âWeâll have ya there in no time!â
On the Seaduck
Dewey poked his head into the cockpit, causing both bears to turn and look at him.
âSoooo⌠can you teach me cloudkicking now?â He asked Kit, tapping excitedly against the door frame. Kit looked at Baloo questioningly, and he chuckled.
âSure thing, Kiddo. Can ya get your mom in here for me? If Kitâs gonna be teachinâ you, Iâll need her to navigate our way to the island.â
âSure!â Dewey disappeared, and moments later, Della appeared in his place. Kit slid out of his seat.
âHereâs the map,â he said, handing her the paper. âThe island weâre going to is circled.â he watched as Della sat down, a doubtful look in his eyes. âAre you sure you can handle it?â
âOf course!â Della said dismissively. âI plan my own flights all the time!â
âOkay,â Kit said. âJust call me if you need help!â he left the cockpit, and was immediately met by an extremely excited Dewey.
âSo where do we start?â he asked eagerly.
âWell,â Kit began. âThe best way to learn is by doing it.â Dewey gasped as Kit pulled out his airfoil and handed it to him. âLetâs see what you can do! Just take this rope-â he gave Dewey the handle he always held on to, and opened the cargo hold with a lever. Gesturing to the opening, he smiled. âYou just, jump- once youâre out, try to balance on the board, and keep your knees bent.â
âGot it!â 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 wasnât bad- a little stiff, but heâd 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.
âUh, maybe we should practice inside first!â he shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. Dewey didnât respond, and Huey came to stand next to Kit.
âDid you hear that, Dewey?â he shouted. âYou can stop!â
âNo way, I love this!â Dewey yelled, a tense smile on his face. âThe freedom! The wind in my mouth! The sky pirates!â
âSky pirates?!â Huey and Kit shouted, eyes widening in alarm. Don Karnage grinned as he flew his plane closer.
âMiss me?â he crowed, swinging his sword at Dewey, who thankfully ducked just in time.
âI wanna stop now!â The duck yelled. Kit cupped his hands over his mouth.
âDewey, you need to start pulling yourself in! Grab the rope!â Dewey screamed in response, and Kit groaned. âGah, heâs screaming too loud to hear me! Hold on Dewey, Iâm coming!â he turned to Huey. âOnce Iâm out, pull that lever and draw the rope back in- itâll take that and us pulling to get in as quick as possible.â after Huey nodded, he jumped onto the rope and slid along it to Dewey.
âBe careful Kit!â Baloo called from the cockpit, his teeth clenched as he held the wheel steady.
Kit waved to show heâd 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.
âFlip the lever, Huey!â he yelled. The other boy nodded, and Kit turned his attention to Dewey. âYou can stop screaming now,â 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. Kitâs eyes widened. âScratch that. You can keep screaming.â They dropped, and as Deweyâs 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. Deweyâs arms didnât loosen, thankfully- Kit couldnât open his eyes to see him if heâd 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.
âAre you okay?â he asked, pulling him up. Dewey gave him a shaky thumbs up.
âTotally,â he said. His shaking voice said otherwise, but before Kit could comment on it, the Seaduck was landing next to them.
âDewey!â Della cried, jumping out before the plane had even stopped moving. She ran to them, picking him up and holding him close to her. âOh, Iâm so glad youâre alright!â
âMom,â 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.
âThanks for saving Dewey-â he blinked, barely having time to awkwardly pat her shoulder before she was dropping him. â-from the danger you put him in!â 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.
âHey now,â he said, putting himself between them and Della. He glared at her, putting a hand on Kitâs shoulder. âYour boy wanted to learn cloudkicking, and Kit taught âim. How was he supposed to know the pirates would show up?â
âYeah!â Dewey said, throwing his arm around Kitâs shoulders. âItâs not Kitâs fault!â
Both parents ignored him, in favor of glowering at each other. Huey shoved his way between them.
âLetâs focus on finding the stone for now,â he said patiently. âOkay?â
âFine,â Baloo muttered. Della crossed her arms, but nodded.
âAny chance you saw where on the island the stone fell?â she asked Baloo.
âNope, sorry.â Baloo shook his head. âWe were to high up- and we didnât exactly wait up. We were trying to get out of there as quick as possible.â Della narrowed her eyes at him as Huey knelt on the ground, examining a pair of tracks.
âWhy?â
âHey,â Huey called, before he replied. âCheck this out.â Kit knelt next to him.
âTracks?â he asked.
âYeah, but theyâre weird.â Huey frowned as Della came up behind them. âI wonder what kind of animal made them.â
âUhâŚâ Della put a hand on his head, turning it to the right. âI think, that kind.â a strange creature came out of the bushes, and they quickly backed up to Dewey and Baloo.
âItâs some sort of⌠rhinosarilla!â Della said.
âOr a gorillaocerous,â Baloo offered.
âGorilihno!â Dewey suggested. The creature roared in anger, and Della ran, yelling,
âWeâll decide what itâs called later, RUN!â they all followed her, sprinting through the jungle. The creature stayed hot on their heels, unrelenting in it's chase.
Dewey pulled out Kitâs airfoil, grinning. âBaloo! Launch me at him!â he said, holding it up.
âEr, great idea!â Baloo said. âBut Iâve got a better one.â
âSo do I!â Della snatched the airfoil out of Deweyâs hand, hurling it at the creature. It bounced off itâs 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.
âI mean⌠my idea would have worked just as well,â he said, frowning.
âWhat is that thing?!â Della yelled, gesturing at the creature.
Baloo shuddered. âItâs just like that awful chicken goat,â he said. âRemember, Kit?â
âHow could I forget?â the boy replied, shivering.
âThe what?â Della asked, turning around to glare at them.
âOh⌠did we forget to mention that?â Baloo asked.
âYou did,â Della said, gritting her teeth. Baloo shrugged.
âSorry.â
âBut where did it come from?â 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.
âWhat was once two becomes anew!â he said. âThe stone of what was! It must combine two things into one!â 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.
âAlright!â Della said. âWhat was eight pirates is now four pirate abominations- much easier!â she walked to the edge and started climbing down. âIâm going to get a closer look- stay right here.â she pointed at Baloo. âYou, stay further over there.â 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.
âOh man, momâs in trouble!â Huey said worriedly.
âThis is my chance!â Dewey said, grinning. âI can take the pirates out with my sick cloudkicking skills, while you-â he pointed at Baloo. â-steal one of their planes and use your piloting skills to make off with the stone!â
âWell, I am an ace pilot,â Baloo said with a smug smile. Kit elbowed him, and he coughed. âBut uh, maybe you should let Kit handle the pirates? He has more experience than you do.â
âI can do it,â Dewey insisted. âIâve dealt with Don Karnage before!â
âI meant- wait.â Baloo held up a hand. âYouâve met Karney before?â Dewey nodded, and Baloo sighed. âAlright, if youâre sure-â
âHold on,â Huey said, stepping between them and looking at Dewey. âThis is a dumb, pointless risk!â he said as Dewey pulled out the airfoil. âIâm begging you not to do this.â Dewey shook his head.
âAlready Dew-sending!â 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.
âGet in, quick!â he said, climbing into one. He started the engine, drawing the attention of the pirates. Don Karnage pointed at them.
âSomeone stop them!â he shouted. The pirates didnât listen to him- most of them were too busy panicking. As Baloo pulled the plane out, there was a loud roar.
âUh⌠guys?â Kit pointed to where Della was sitting on a bear with butterfly wings. âI think we have another problem.â
âOh boy,â Baloo said. âI better help her!â he leapt out, calling over his shoulder- âkeep the plane running!â
Huey and Kit watched as the bear ran around the clearing, roaring at pirates. It then came face to face with Baloo.
âDonât worry,â Kit said to Huey. âHeâll help your mom!â Baloo and the bear stared at each other for a moment, and then Baloo screamed and bolted. Kit dropped his head into his hands.
âNevermind.â
âWait, look!â 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.
âCome on!â he yelled as they ran past Dewey. âWe need to get back to the Seaduck and follow them!â the three kids ran back through the woods to where the plane was waiting.
After they got in, Kit sat down in Balooâs chair. âIâll get the Seaduck up into the air,â he said, turning the plane on. âBut someoneâs going to need to distract the pirates- I don't think the bear can fight them off."
âI will!â Dewey volunteered. âI can cloudkick out there, and save my mom and Baloo!â
âThatâs enough!â Huey yelled, yanking the airfoil out of his hands. âWhy donât you both just do your thing!â Kit turned to look at him, confused, while Dewey scowled.
âThis is my thing!" he said, gesturing at the board. âFlying straight and boring isnât going to save them! Anyone can do that!â
âWait,â Kit said, drawing both ducksâ attention. âDewey, you can fly a plane?!â
âYeah, so?â
âSo? Thatâs great!â he stood. âIâve been learning, but Iâm nowhere near ready to fly on my own. Until Iâm old enough to take real lessons, Iâm best at being Balooâs 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?â he grinned. âThat is amazing, and it's exactly what we need right now.â
âBesides,â Huey said, smiling. âIf I know you, youâll make flying as special as you are. No one will be able to fly just like you.â
âOkay,â Dewey said, a smile blooming across his face. He sat in the pilotâs chair.
âLetâs Dewey this.â
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.
âKeep it steady!â 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.
âArgh!â Don Karnage yelled, dodging the hook as it flew back at him, taking out the cannon in the process. âHow dare you, you little rat!â
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.
âWow,â Della said, staring at him. Baloo chuckled from his place behind her.
âIsnât he amazing?â he asked, pride in his voice. He cupped a hand around his mouth.
âYouâre doinâ great, Kit! Keep it up!â Kit waved as the Seaduck flew up to them, Dewey in the pilotâs seat.
âMom! Baloo!â he yelled. âJump on!â
âGet the stone first!â 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.
âYes!â Huey said, laughing. âI knew you could do it!â Dewey grinned.
âThanks, Huey,â he said. He moved the plane closer to Della and Baloo so they could jump on.
âLook,â Huey said, pointing to where Kit was fighting with Don Karnage. The bear had just spun the pirateâs plane around, spinning him down into the waves below. They both cheered, and Kit grinned up at them, waving.
âIâll go reel him in,â Huey said, putting a hand on Deweyâs 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.
âIâm so proud of you!â she yelled. She did a cartwheel. âLook how steady it is!â Dewey grinned, but Baloo did not look amused.
âWhoa,â he said. âIâll admit this is pretty impressive, but maybe save the cartwheels for after weâre safely inside?â Della nodded.
âFair point,â she said. The bear flew up to them, and Della smiled and scratched itâs 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.
âGah, it licked my teeth!â Della laughed, wiping the spit off her face. She looked at the bear.
âBe free, my noble friend,â 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.
âGreat job, Lilâ Britches,â he said, grinning.
âThanks Papa Bear,â Kit said, smiling back. He fist bumped Huey, and the three of them walked up to the cockpit.
âYouâre doinâ great, kid,â Baloo said to Dewey, walking up behind him. âBut I can take over now.â
âAw, let him fly us home Baloo,â Kit said. âHeâs a natural- he can handle it.â Baloo looked down at him.
âAlright,â he conceded. âIf you trust him, then so do I.â he looked at Dewey. âJust be careful with my baby, okay?â
âHe will be,â Della promised. She elbowed him. âI let him fly my baby, and- wellâŚâ she coughed. âHe crashed it into the ocean. But heâs not gonna try to do any stunts this time!â
Baloo laughed. âSheâs been through worse than that- Just so long as we get home in one piece.â he looked at Dewey thoughtfully. âOne more thing, though.â
âYeah?â Dewey asked, keeping his eyes on the sky.
âDo you know how to get back to Higher For Hire?â
âUh... no,â Dewey admitted sheepishly. âI guess thatâs a problem, huh?â
âNah,â Baloo said dismissively. âThatâs why I have a navigator! Kit?â
âOn it, Papa Bear,â Kit said, hopping into the navigatorâs 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 Seaduckâs nose and into the spare crate that Rebecca had waiting for him.
âThere,â he said, putting the lid over it. âYouâre good to go!â
âThank you,â Della said, smiling as Huey, Dewey, and Kit pushed it into the Cloudslayer. âWe really appreciate the help.â
âNo problem,â Baloo replied. âIt was the least we could do- considering we lost the cargo in the first place.â Della shrugged.
âEh, it happens. Uncle Scroogeâll understand when we tell him what happened.â Baloo blinked.
âUncleâŚ?" he asked, before his eyes widened in realization. "Scrooge McDuck is your uncle?!â Della snorted.
âYeah, who did you think sent us? Speaking of which-â she reached into her pocket. âHe said that if you could get us stone, I should give you this.â she gave him some money. âItâs what he owed you for the cargo when you were originally delivering it.â
âWhoa, thank you!â Baloo grinned. âBecky will be happy- she was mad when we came back without this before.â after tucking it into his shirt pocket, he held out a hand. âIt was nice to meet you,â he said.
âLikewise.â Della grinned, shaking it. âMaybe weâll see you around?â
âMaybe,â Baloo agreed. He smirked. âIf ya ever need anything else delivered.â they laughed together as the kids came up to them.
âThe stone is loaded, Mom,â Huey said.
âOkay, then we should probably be getting back to Duckburg.â she and the boys climbed in the plane, waving one last time before shutting the door.
âDewey gave me his address,â Kit said as they flew off. âSo I can write him and see how his flying is going.â Baloo put an arm around him.
âThat's great, Lil' Britches." he hummed thoughtfully. "You know, if you wanted, I could start taking you out on the weekends to fly.â Kit gasped.
âReally, Papa Bear?â he asked, looking up at Baloo with wide eyes. Baloo grinned.
âReally. I have a feeling both of you could be ace pilots someday.â
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#talespin#the lost cargo of kit cloudkicker#baloo#kit cloudkicker#Dewey Duck#Huey Duck#della duck#Rebecca Cunningham (minor)#fanfiction#story
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The Classifieds
Pairing: Past Dean x ReaderÂ
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 â67 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.Â
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; thereâs 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 thereâs a small carving in the rear window sill. These are all minor interior flaws that can easily be fixed by the buyer.
Iâll share details like the VIN, classic car ID and answer any other questions directly to any prospective buyers.
Sheâs been with us since â73, and never let us down. Babyâs part of our family, and weâre sad to let her go, but Iâm 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 didnât 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 didnât 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 werenât 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 wasnât gonna cut it, then heâd do whatever else he needed to do to fix this. He wouldnât let his little brother, or the woman he loved more than life itself, die in that hospital. He couldnât 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 Sammyâs 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, heâd lose something. But this way heâd 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.
âGoodbye Baby⌠Iâm sorry,â
---
ââŚWinchester?â
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 heâd spent behind the wheel of that car.
He could see nights spent by (Y/N)âs side, stargazing on Babyâs 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 sheâd 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 thereâd 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 heâd kept them all out of harmâs way once more.
Heâd 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.
âDriver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,â
Dean flinched slightly at the sound of his own voice. He hadnât 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 Sammyâs quipped âJerkâ 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.
âMr. Winchester?â 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.
âPlease fill in the fields for their insurance and the payment plan section. If thereâs any issuesâŚâ The doctor said, voice free of judgement or blame as he lifted tear stained eyes to catch hers.
âNo⌠Youâll have your money. Just⌠Save âem doc. Theyâre all I have,â
Dean didnât have time to sit around feeling sorry for himself. He needed to get the money. Heâd do anything to save his family. Hell, heâd 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 Samâs 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 heâd yet to get an offer on the ad. And he needed money fast.
Cas had tried, but his weakened grace couldnât 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.Â
No, he couldnât sit around hoping someone would come rescue them and he couldnât 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 heâd never part with. Hell, at some point heâd 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, Deanâs 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.Â
âPlease save my family,â
Tags:
Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132loveââ @woodworthti666ââ @defenderrosetylerââ @akshi8278ââ @justanotherwinchesterââ @lyarr24ââ @torn-and-frayedââ @all-will-be-well-loveââ @wearesuchstuff1ââ @thefridgeismybestieââ @adoptdontshoppetsââ @starsandmidnightblueââ @punof-agunââÂ
Forever Tags: @deanwanddamonsââ @winchest09ââ @hobby27ââ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauceâââ @sea040561ââ @donnaintxââ @alwaysdreamingforthebestââ @thatmotleygirlââ @chocolateheartââ @superfanficnaturalââ @flamencodivaââ @starryeyeseunbyulââ @waywardbeanieââ @supernaturalenchantedââ @ellewritesfix05ââ @emoryhemsworthââ
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean angst#dean winchester angst#winchester angst#angst#no happy ending#dean winchester and reader#spn angst#tales89writes#supernatural angst#spn dean#supernatural dean#angst oneshot#dean oneshot#dean winchester oneshot#angsty fic#tw: coma#coma#open ending#possible death#implied loss#dean x you#supernatural reader insert#dean reader insert#dean winchester reader insert
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Non-con body mod for BTHB because Iâm feeling feeding the boy to the evil angst demons
Rowan BTHB â 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 couldnât introduce owner number one, I just hate him đ so enjoy more WRU and Tybalt. ]]
â â â â â â â â â â â â â
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 werenât sick. She shook and whined when they reached an office door sheâd 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.
âHah, no getting out of this one, sweetheart. Youâll live. Your buyer just sent in a few customization requests,â 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 didnât strike her as particularly scary, but she knew what customization meant. Sheâd seen the other pets, sometimes, with all kinds of humiliating tattoos and surgeries.
â592...604? Alright, bring her here,â the new man sighed, as he rolled his chair over to one of the tables. âYou know I hate doing this, right? Itâs the hardest fucking one to manage when they start squirming.â
She wanted to press herself into the wall at his exasperated tone, but she knew sheâd just be dragged back into position if she did.
âN-No, sir, I⌠I wonât s-squirm, I swear, Iâll b-be good,â she stuttered. Make him happy, and whateverâs going to happen will be better. If heâs pleased, heâll go easier.
âBah. They all say that,â the man said, though he wasnât really speaking to her. âYou lot need to stop offering this to the clients, or one of these days, a product is gonna wind up with some real damage.â
âOkay, so give her a sedative. Not that hard.â
The other man rolled his eyes. âThey donât give me any of that shite. Bring the next one in sedated already. This one, just bring her here.â
â604 was hauled closer, then ordered down onto her knees. She looked up pleadingly into the manâs impassive eyes. He picked up a metal instrument and tapped her lips with it.
âOpen up, and keep it open.â
She obeyed, already trembling. Her mouth didnât 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.
âAlright, good girl for that. Now for godâs sake, stop crying and close your eyes.â
She tried to choke back the noises and squeezed her eyes shut tight, praying that itâd be over quick. She didnât want anything to happen to her tongue. But even more than that, she didnât want to think about what âreal damageâ 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 didnât get far, thanks to the clamp around her tongueâ she didnât want to be bad, she didnât want to, she just couldnât bear the thought of a needle going through it. Thereâd been a time when she hadnât been so afraid of needles, she thought, but sheâd learned to hate and fear them in her new life.
âFuckinâ Christ, it always has to be a circus. Can you hold her?â
Her handlerâs 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.
âHnn, a-ahâm th-owry,â she tried to apologize.
âYeah, yeah, whatever, just hold still.â
She didnât 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.
â604 was silent for a moment, holding her breath in confusion. That was it? It didnât⌠it didnât 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.
Sheâd 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. âI told you youâd live. Stupid bitch.â
âPrisses, every one of âem,â the other man commented, standing up from his chair and moving to sterilize his equipment. âGo on, then, I have another appointment in five.â
âSir, yes, sir!â 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?
âââââââââ
The second time someone changed her, she didnât even know it was happening. She just woke up after, groggy and aching and restrained on a soft bed.
â604 tilted her head to the side slowly. Sheâd 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. Sheâd been good the day before. Sheâd 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.
â604âs 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 hadnât.
Her chest was bandaged up on either side, and it was swollen. No, not all of it was swelling, it was just bigger. Where sheâd 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 didnât know why. She was a girl, theyâd 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 couldnât get them off, he wanted to claw them off. Why did she feel so sick? This had to be illegal. Why couldnât she be happy? Sheâd 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.
âââââââââ
The third time someone changed her, she simply let it happen.
âLook at you, little thing, always worried about your hair,â Tybalt said, running his fingers through it from behind. She was prettying herself up in his bathroom, the way theyâd taught her, to keep her hair soft and shiny and attractive. âYou must take a lot of pride in it, huh?â
She didnât know which answer he wanted, so she took the safe route by nodding in agreement.
âYes, sir.â
âI thought you might.â
He opened a nearby drawer and brought something outâ a pair of shears that he used on his own hair. Then, he took the lock of hair that sheâd just run product through.
âHold still for me, princess.â
âYes, sir.â
She obeyed as he sliced it clean off.
Her first reaction was horror, that she wouldnât be pretty for her owner anymoreâ 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.
âThere you go. Less to worry about, if you ask me. Just ask for another trim if it starts getting long again, yeah?â 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 sheâd learned, she thought it looked better than the long hair. Even ugly and uneven like this.
âHm. I thought for sure thatâd make you cry. I guess I still donât know you all that well, pet,â he said in a lighthearted tone, patting her on the head. Ah⌠maybe she should have cried. For him.
âClean this mess up for me, will you?â 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.
#whump#whumpblr#box boy#bbu#box boy universe#surgery cw#needles cw#medical whump#transphobia cw#pet whump#intimate whumper#creepy whumper#forced detransitioning cw#bthb#badthingshappenbingo#original characters#oc#rowan#rowan series
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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 donât read if theyâre triggers for you even though it does not go into depth.) Violence and a little torture
A/N: no keep reading link since Iâm 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 didnât 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:
âSheâs upâ
âSheâs comingâ
âIs that Y/Nâ
âIsnât she an avengerâ
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 werenât going to let you out your sight after this.
A young girl with big doe eyes tentatively walked to you.âAre you here to save us? Youâre Y/N, the avenger, right?â Her eyes were filled with hope and you didnât want to tell her the truth and break her heart but you also didnât want to lie to her and give her false hope.
You didnât know if it was luck or not but a girl who looked like life hardened her answered for you. âDoes she look like sheâs here to save us? Sheâs for sell just like us!â
To make yourself smaller you kneeled down to the other girlâs level. âSheâs right. Iâm here against my will. But, I got some powerful friends and theyâll find us sooner than later.â
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 didnât do as he asked, heâll call them anything but a child of God.
âI see that you met your new roommates,â 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. âThey were already ordered not to hit you in the face. We donât want to damage our money maker.â
âYouâre really selling me and these girls? Oh, you donât know what trouble you just got yourself into asshole.â
âTrouble? I don't think so. Youâre gonna be worth more than all of them combined. Someone as beautiful and strong as you. Youâre gonna make me a rich man.â
âLetâs say if you get the chance to sell me, youâre not gonna live long enough to spend it. My dadâs 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. Iâm starting to feel bad for you bro.â You shrugged at the man and smirked.
âI knew you were a little slut.â 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. âI wish I could keep you for myself. Do you know whatâs the most satisfying thing about my job?â
âI donât know. You get your tiny dick sucked? You must be overcompensating for something,â you sneered.
The big bad grabbed your hand and put it on his rather unimpressive hard on.âI assure you Iâm not overcompensating for anything.â Great, not only were you kidnapped by an asshole but he was delusional as well.
âAnyway, my favorite thing about my job is dousing out fires. Now, your average sex trafficker wants to get easy girls. Girls who wonât 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,â he took a deep inhale and palmed himself. âI would pay good money for that, but youâre the product and I canât make money if I use my own product. But no worries, there are buyers out there with similar viewpoints as mines and theyâll pay a pretty penny for you. So, Iâm not scared because Iâll have enough money in the world not to worry about your friends and family.â
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. âIâm glad you like your girls with fight because I gotta whole lotta fight in me.â
When he faced you, you finally saw the anger in him instead of that giddiness he had earlier. âMake sure you donât hit her in the face. Remember thatâs our money maker, but everything else is fair game.â 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 wasnât until you blacked out with thoughts of Bucky and Erik saving you were you able to escape the pain.
ââ
Charles automatically noticed something was wrong when you didnât 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 wasnât 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 couldnât 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.
âWe have an update on your daughterâs case,â 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. âWho would do this to my baby?â
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.âIts your fault! I was stupid enough to listen to you and let her go to that damn auction! Now look, Barnes sheâs caught in a sex trafficking ring!â
Everyone except the Wakandans perked up at the mention of Barnes. âBucky Barnes?â Tony and your mom questioned.
Bucky was outed now, so he took the nano mask off. âIâm just as pissed as you, Stevens and I blame myself more than you ever could.â Then Bucky turned his gaze towards Tony and your mom, âBut 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.â
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.
âWho took those photos,â Rhodey asked gravelly.
âWe believe itâs Richard Dominguez. He just took over the Dominguez crime family and expanded into sex trafficking, which his recently deceased father was against.â Detective Johnson informed the room.
âWhat about this Marcus nigga?â Erik asked. He was ready to kill someone and if he couldnât get to Dominguez then Marcus would have to do.
The detective felt uncomfortable under Erikâs murderous gaze. âUmm...we canât find him.â
âThen what the fuck you niggas good for? Oh wait never mind yâall good for killing innocent black people.â
âCousin!â TâChalla 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. âLil cuz, can you find this Marcus dude if we give you his picture?â
Shuri looked at Erik as if he grew a second head. Did he know who he was talking to?â
âMy bad, cuz,â Erik quickly apologized once he saw the look on Shuriâs face. âCan you find him quickly is what I meant to ask.â
âGive me the picture and Iâll tell you his last location within 30 minutes, cousin,â 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.
âSo, youâre the one my husband canât shut up about. He keeps on talking about your beauty, but from where Iâm standing, darling, you ainât that beautiful.â The woman sneered at you as she inspected you.
If her physical appearance didnât put you off, her attitude did the job for you. Annoyed with the woman you sighed, âDonât tell me your ok with this? And please donât tell me youâre jealous.â
âOk? Sweetie, Iâm 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?â
What a delusional one this chick was. You laughed at her and proceeded to read her. âListen, sweetie, ummm, everything on your body is predominantly features of a black woman and under all that tanning lotion, youâre 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.â
You stood up face to face with Dominguezâs wife and even in your diminished shape she was frightened by you. âI bet your bitchass husband is fantsizing about me while heâs fucking you,â a look of embrassement from the woman confirmed your hunch and you contined. âIâm gonna go as far and say he called out my name on accident. Man, it must suck to be you.â
The wannabe was in tears by now and she ran out the room. Usually, you wouldnât revel in the fact that a husband was mentally cheating on his wife, but since she was compliant, you didnât 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. âYou made my wife upset, you little cunt! Be glad that you are of value to me or you be dead.â
You knew Dominguez didnât care about his wife, but she mustâve gave him an earful and that set him off. Holding yourself back, you smirked at the man. âI donât know whatâs 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.â
All the blood drained from Dominguezâs face when you mentioned the Winter Soldier. He didnât know about Killmonger, but he didnât 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. âRemember when I said boyfriends? I was talking about them. So, even if I end up getting sold, you wonât be spending any of the money.â
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. âI know you hate me, Stark, but I love Y/N, so donât be mad at her when we get her back. She was just doing what she believed what was right by protecting me.â
Tony held back his disdain for Bucky. He had to admit that he admired how fiercely Bucky wanted to fight for you. âBarnes, Iâm not here to fight you. Y/N would whoop my ass if I did right now. I just wanted to say I appreciate how youâre fighting to get her back and that none of this is your fault.â Bucky drew his brows in confusion at Tonyâs statement. Did Stark really compliment him?
âI know. I know. It doesnât sound like me. But you canât 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. Donât beat yourself up over that,â Tony advised the soldier.
âThanks.â
âI still hate you by the way. Iâll just hate you less once we get her back.â 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. âYou canât just go in there and start beating on the dude.â
Erik looked at Rhodey in disbelief, âOh, I canât? Watch me.â Erik was walking to the door that Marcus was behind and Rhodey pulled him back before he turned the handle.
âYou need to calm down and do it quickly! Iâm not letting you blow the only lead we have on finding my niece. Do you understand me?â 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.
âAâight. Iâm sorry, man. I just need to find her asap.â
Rhodey understood the young manâs urgency. He clapped his shoulder and warned Erik. âWe need Marcus alive. The cops need someone to arrest.â
Erik caught Rhodeyâs drift. He wouldnât 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 didnât know who kidnapped him and then the crazies had a jaguar and wolf snapping in his face.
âThey miss their mom and they know you have something to do with her being missing.â 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. âReally, nigga? You already pissed now you gotta shit! I bet you didnât have that same energy when you let Y/N go.â
âLook man, I didnât have a choice,â Marcus yelled in desperation.
Pissed off, Bucky echoed Marcus. âNo choice!â Bucky kicked Marcusâs chair, causing him to fall and have Apollo and Artemis growl in his face.
âAre you really gonna let em eat him?â Erik pointed to the predators.
âThey havenât ate all day and heâs obviously no help. Is that a problem?â
âNah, itâs chow time.â Erik broke out into a smile while Apollo and Artemis widen their jaws for their new meal.
âSheâs in Huntsville! Dominguez has a bunch of land out there, but he has a small army. Heâll know youâre coming.â
âWe donât care!â Bucky yelled already texting TâChalla with the information.
Erik bent down to Marcus. ���Before I rock yo shit, why did you betray her?â
Marcus was a sobbing mess by now, he feared for his life. âI had a gambling debt at one of Dominguezâs underground casinos. He said itâll clear my debt and I could get a little extra if I help him get her. Y/Nâs an Avenger, I thought she would be out by now.â
As Bucky heard Marcusâs 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. âYou had to throw it next to my face?â 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.
âYou know we donât plan on bringing Dominguez alive.â Bucky warned your parents.
Your mother left her husbandâs side and for the first time looked Bucky in the eye. âI donât give a damn. If heâs begging for mercy, you better let him bleed out. Just bring back my baby girl.â Now Erik and Bucky understood where you got a fierceness from.
Both men gave a head nod and a yes maâam to her and left to go save their girl.
â-
You were getting anxious. If it was just you held captive, you wouldâve already escaped and killed Dominguez, but you werenât. The other girls were your responsibility and you promised them all that you would get them out safely and alive.
âMiss. Y/N, are your friends going to save us?â Lexie, the 10 year old asked you with hope in her eyes.
âOf course, honey. Theyâll be here soon. If we get lucky, we might get to see the Scarlet Witch.â
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 Dominguezâs 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.
âItâs okay. I got you,â 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.
âThis family reunion is great, but we got people shooting at us and we need to get these girls to safety,â Nat reminded everyone.
âNatâs right. You guys get the girls out and Iâll handle Dominguez.â 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 werenât hearing none of it. You needed to kill Dominguez and your friends couldnât 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. âGame time, bitches.â This time Steve didnât 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 Dominguezâs henchmen. Your goal was to kill your captor and everyone who helped him, and you werenât leaving the base til you did.
Taking two stairs at a time, you ran into the master bedroom and found Dominguezâs wife frantically throwing clothes, shoes, and jewelry into a duffel bag.
âMaterialistic to the end, huh?â Your chuckle halted her packing. Immediately she was begging for her life and in that moment you truly didnât 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 Richardâs wife, he came running into the room seeking refuge. Once he spotted you, he pointed his gun at you. âDamn, I thought you wouldâve killed her. She knows too much about the operation.â
Dang, this man really didnât care about anyone except himself. âYou know I would say I feel bad for her, but sheâs as guilty as you are.â
âThen maybe you should give me the same punishment as her,â he tried to bargain with you.
âToo late,â 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 otherâs 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.
âI got you, princess.â 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 Dominguezâs chest to stop him from getting up. âRemember when I told you I didnât know if it was worse for you if I got to you if they got to you,â you pointed towards the two soldiers. He gave no answer, but looked at you in pure hatred.
âWell, I forgot about a third option and Iâm gonna go with them, cuz theyâll kill you slower than I ever could.â Confusion and then fear crossed Dominguezâs 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, âYou know my favorite thing about you douchebag dudes is the fear on your face once you know you lost and how youâre gonna die soon. Itâs the best feeling.â 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 mustâve 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 wasnât 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.
â-
âYouâre very lucky Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N based on all your daughterâs injuries she should be dead,â you heard the doctor inform your parents.
âThank God!â Your mother praised as she sat in the chair next to your bed.
âUmmm, but is it necessary for them being here?â You could only assume that the doctor was referring to Apollo and Artemis, since you could sense their presence.
âThey stay,â 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. âHey, princess. Iâm right here and Barnes not here right now. We have too many eyes on us right now.â
Usually you would be understanding, but you didnât 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.
âY/L/N, itâs good to see youâre doing well.â
âWhat do you want,â you croaked out.
Ross widen his stance in an attempt to intimidate you. âWe 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 couldâve gone? And please donât lie, the girls did say you did talk to Rogers.â
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 mustâve been your motherâs breaking point, because she jumped out of her seat and was in Rossâs face. âAre you fucking kidding me!!!â Your mama had to be furious to be cussing. You only heard her cuss a handful of times in her lifetime. âMy daughter is in the damn hospital barely escaping death and youâre worried about capturing damn Captain America??? My baby girl is right, that heart attack mustâve 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.â
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.
âDamn, Mrs. Y/L/N remind me not to piss you off.â Erik laughed in admiration.
While looking at you and giving you a motherly caress, your mama replied to Erik. âI donât play about my kids, even the ones who give me the most headaches. So, itâs best you and Barnes remember that.â
You almost couldnât contain your excitement. That warning your mama gave Erik was also a seal of approval for both of them to date you. Who wouldâve 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 Erikâs dreads calmed you and him. It was very possible that you wouldnât have survived and never had the chance to see each other again.
Tears were forming in Erikâs 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. âI almost lost you, Y/N. That scared the shit out of me. Iâm about to ask TâChalla to assign a Dora to follow you when me or Barnes are not around.â
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. âIâm safe, E. But donât you think it may be a little extreme to have someone watching me all the time?â
âHell no.â Welp, thereâs goes any negotiation. You didnât 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.
âYou two seem really close now,â you pointed out to Bucky after Erik clapped his shoulder.
Seemingly nervous, his metal hand scratched the back of his neck. âYeah, when the girl you both love gets kidnapped it brings enemies closer.â
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.
âDoll, I really shouldnât be here.â
âWhy?â
âItâs not safe. I heard that Ross came by looking for intel. Someone can come by and turn me in.â
Although, it was a valid concern, you knew that wasnât the real reason Bucky thought he shouldnât be there. âI have my own hospital floor and Tony made sure everyone signed a NDA, so try again, Barnes.â
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.âFuck doll, if I hadnât encouraged you to go to that damn auction you wouldnât be in this damn hospital bed.â
You lifted his chin to get his attention. âIâm only gonna say this once. Itâs not your fault. I was gonna go with or without your permission.â
Bucky opened his mouth to apologize, but you held up your hand to stop him. âJames 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 wouldnât want to do that to me, would you, babe?â
Laughter filled the air and it was music to your ears. Buckyâs laugh was low like his voice but it held a certain lightness that Bucky mustâve retained before joining the army.
âOk no more apologies. But youâre gonna have someone with you at all times just to make me feel better.â
âI basically told her the same thing and she didnât argue with me,â 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. âI didnât argue with you because Iâm too mentally tired to do so. But watch, once Iâm feeling better Iâm cussing both of you out for trying to tell me what to do.â
Both muttered a âweâll seeâ 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
#black!reader#erik killmonger#mcu#erik stevens#black panther#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#erik stevens x reader#killmonger#erik killmonger x black!reader#erik stevens x black!reader#erik killmonger x reader#killmonger x black!reader#killmonger x reader#bucky x black!reader#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barns x reader#winter solider#winter soldier x black!reader#winter solider x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#mcufam#bp#black panther fanfiction#black panther fic
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It was close to 5 in the morning right now, but it wasnât like anyone could tell - Alaska was always dark as shit, doubly so when snowstorms blotted out the sky, and Skinny Dickâs eyes were so shot to hell that he had a tough time even when the sun was out. Which was why at Skinny Dickâs 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, heâd 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 Dickâs 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 werenât so lucky.
Heâs 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 sheâd rented a room for a whole week. Usually, sheâd 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, sheâd 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 Dickâs Special Hooch, looking like she was gonna burn a hole in the cabin with nothing but her stare. Heâd 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. âAnything else I can getâcha?â
She shakes her head, and smirks. âNah. You can take this one back,â 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 sheâd gone through all of them like they were water and she didnât seem any more wasted for it. Skinny Dick didnât 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.
âWhatâs that, there?â 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. âGot the recipe from out west,â she says, âfrom a bunch of ghouls in⌠where was it?â She turns the pipe over, and smiles. âMexico, I think. Yanks call it smooch.â
âSmells like an energy cell shit itself,â he chuckles. âJesus, whatâs in that?â
Her smile widens. âHey, irradiated cave fungus and Abraxo can do wonders. You should try it for yourself,â she says, holding out the pipe.
Well, if Skinny Dick stands for anything, itâs that everything ought to be tried at least once. And if he drops dead, itâll 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 doesnât happen, but he does feel a bit lighter, just like how he remembers how a reefer used to make him feel. Plenty impressive, heâll give it that.
âGood, huh?â she says, looking the most at ease heâs ever seen her. âAnd there was only a drop of the stuff in that kindling. Itâs plenty potent - so I wouldnât recommend it for humans.â She takes the pipe back, and takes another puff. âTends to turn âem into vegetables. Makes a killing in the ghoul market, though.â
He leans over the bar, the old wood creaking under his weight. âSay, you wouldnât happen to know where anybody could get a dealer for that stuff, wouldja?â he whispers, though thereâs no real need to. âA fella might be looking to buy some real soon.â
Her smile only grew bigger. âYou lookinâ at âer.â She lets the pipe hang around her mouth as she extends a hand. âChives Chen, independent trader, at your service.â
âSkinny Dick,â he says, taking her hand in his own, âowner and proprietor of Skinny Dickâs.â
âCommitted to the brand.â Chives nods once. âI like that.â Pulling her hand away, she rests her elbows on the bar and cradles her head in her other hand. âListen, Dick, can I talk to you on the level?â
He shrugs. âShoot. Weâre talkinâ now, right?â
âRightâŚâ She sits up straight, and folds her hands like sheâs playing poker, without the cards. âListen, 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.â
âYâ heard right. Always willing to trade for more meat around these parts.â He finds himself nodding along - so far, he likes the cut of her jib. âNot a lot of grazing âround 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.â
She raises her brows, then. âMy good Dick,â she says, hint of a laugh tinting her voice, âI think you misunderstood me. I never said I was selling any meat.â
âWhat dâyou got, then? Leather? Horns?â He pauses. âGlue...?â
âKeep going. Maybe youâll even get it.â
âDonât make me guess, maâam,â he groans, throwing his hands up. âI feel like Iâm on an episode of Red Tag, over here!â He canât help but laugh at his own joke, even if there was no way in hell anyone wouldâve 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 doesnât really get any better with time, especially not when it was being blown in your face. âThat was the one Johnny Collins hosted, right?â
âRight, right.â He takes out his own leather pouch of hand-rolled tobacco from his apron, and strikes a match. âYâknow, heâd say somethinâ like, âyouâre it, America!â, and heâd ask people these fuckinâ impossible questions while they did these challengesâŚâ He lights the cigarette, then takes a long, deep breath.
âYeah, swimming through jello and trying to hit an apple on some guyâs head,â she adds, laughing. âYou could win shit like, what, a voucher for one weekâs worth of gas? A whole case of smokes?â
âIf you were lucky, you could win a trip to Hawaii or something.â He takes an ashtray out from behind the bar, and taps some ash into it. âSay, you ever been there?â
Chives shakes her head. âLots of places under the sun I ainât been to yet, Dick, and that includes most of The Last Frontier.â She dumps out some acidic-smelling ash from her pipe onto the ashtray, and sighs. âIâll 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?â
â...Oh,â he says, halfway into putting the cig near his lipless mouth, âoh, that was it.â He leans back, crossing his arms. âYeah - nah. Not that I donât like jet, but⌠look, youâre not gonna find much buyers for that âround here.â He takes a drag and adds, âDown south in Anchorage, though, I hear they eat jet for breakfast, so you might wanna take a look-see for your friends over there.â He taps his chin, then, as he struggles to remember something else. âSome other folks, too⌠damn, what was it called again? Psykerjet? Ah, I dunno exactly, but they like that shit.â
Chives doesnât look disappointed by the news; in fact, thereâs a new glint in her eye that wouldâve been easy to miss, but heâs seen it before. âAlright. Thanks for the tip, Dick.â 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. âYouâve been a big help.â
âNo prob,â he says, but sheâs 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 hadnât moved much stuff around or hid anything in the floorboards, which was fine and dandy with him. Skinny Dick supposed that sheâd 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.
#fallout alaska#my fic#working title: people put their very misplaced faith in chives#i'm not particularly confident with skinny dick's voice as of yet but he's growing on me#chives chen
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Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance
Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance
Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance
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Aston Martin V8 Vantage Coupe/Convertible Cheap Insurance
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What Redfinâs IPO means for real estate
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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 donât have any strong opinions at the moment, besides wishing Glenn Kelman and crew lots of luck. But looking through Redfinâs S-1, I had a few random thoughts. I figured Iâd 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 Redfinâs IPO. Iâll 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:Â $69.2 million. And weâve all seen what Zillow became after its IPO.
What will Redfin be after its IPO?
Itâs 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, thatâs approximately a 3:1 ratio. Zillowâs 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, Realogyâs market cap is about $4.5 billion on 2016 revenues of $5.8 billion. Thatâs right; its valuation is lower than its revenues â by $1.3 billion.
And Re/Max, a franchisor, has a market cap of about $1.7 billion on $176 million in 2016 revenues. Itâs hard to think of Re/Max as a comp for Redfin though, because theyâre so different.
Guess weâll 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, letâs 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 Zillowâs IPO, very few people thought Zillow was going to be the top dog in real estate within a couple of years. And yet, thatâs 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, itâs 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 canât happen or wonât happen. Itâs just to make an observation.
One difference is that Move didnât increase its investment into technology as the upstart Zillow was breathing down its neck. Hereâs Move, Inc.âs 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 Zillowâs 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 arenât going to sit back and watch Redfin go public, ramp up its marketing and technology, become a serious competitor and â 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.
Weâll see.
Whereâs #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:
âOur 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.â
Mumâs the word, though, huh? Zestimate equals Satanâs spawn. Redfin Estimate, made far more accurate thanks to unrestricted access to MLS data, equals enjoy the silence.
How about the whole âZillow is going to become a brokerage and disintermediate the agent!â? Well, Redfin is a brokerage â and is actively trying to disintermediate (that is, put out of business) every agent who doesnât 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 âcrossed the lineâ 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 thereâs a #StopZillow movement complete with website. Amazingly, in one of the announcements about Bob Goldbergâs being named as CEO, the comments are all full of âWhen are you gonna fight against Zillow?â 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 âZillow is making billions exploiting our data!â stuff thatâs like, everywhere? Well, read âem and weep:
âAs 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.
âAccess 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.
âAdditionally, 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.â
Letâs 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, thatâs 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 â 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 â it all mentions Zillow. It doesnât mention Realogy and Re/Max and HomeServices of America.
Goldman Sachs doesnât agree to underwrite Redfinâs IPO, if it thinks Redfin is a real estate brokerage. The VC firms backing Redfin donât allow Redfin to IPO at brokerage valuations.
The reason is simple: money money money!
Zillowâs market cap is $9 billion on revenues of $846 million.
Realogyâs market cap is $4.5 billion on 2016 revenues of $5.8 billion. Realogyâs valuation is below its annual revenues.
If Redfin is a brokerage, making $256 million in revenues and losing tens of millions every year. Itâs worth zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada.
If Redfin is a technology company that happens to make money from commissions â itâs worth $3 billion or so (or more!)
Iâll do a bigger post later on Redfin once Iâve thought through some more things and read the S-1 more, but boy, all yâall 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 âlet me think about this moreâ time so, letâs just say that this is a big deal. I can see everything changing in the relatively near future. Yep, big things poppinâ and little things steppinâ. 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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