#i’d say like. 50 bucks for one probably. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

schrijverr · 4 months ago

Text

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 7

Chapter 7 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Bobby observes the new probie, curious about this kid as he starts acting out and tossing his career down the drain with stunts like stealing a fire engine or refusing the teen mom access to the ambulance. Meanwhile, Buck and Eddie are both trying to find the new balance of how much they should let go and how much they can still hold on.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn)

Warnings: insecurity, child endangerment (baby in the pipe call)

~~~

Chapter 7: The Curious Case of the New Recruit

When Bobby offers Evan Buckley a job, he doesn’t think the other will take it. He’s done his training in Texas, broke records there, but not everyone wants to relocate halfway across the country when there are perfectly good jobs nearby. However, Bobby offers anyway, because they can use someone like him on the team. Someone who is younger than the core team they have, still reckless, someone to push them out of their habits and comfort zones.

However, now Buck is here and he’s not entirely what Bobby expected. Sure, he’s hardworking and competent as his paperwork says, also quite impulsive and more than willing to do the crazy rescues, but he has a maturity Bobby didn’t expect and can’t place.

Bobby has observed Buck to be a strange contradiction in a way.

It starts in the first week, Buck has watched Bobby cook a few family meals, when he approaches him while he’s cooking. “Can I help? I’m not an amazing cook, but I know some things and I’d like to get better.”

“You can cook?” Chimney asks skeptically where he is hanging around at the kitchen island, probably hoping to snatch up some snacks as Bobby cooks.

“Yeah, only one in the house that can,” Buck grins as he gives a fond head shake, whoever his roommates are, he doesn’t seem to mind that they don’t contribute to the chore.

Bobby figures that building a good report in the kitchen will be helpful to getting Buck to listen out there, so he happily instates him as sous chef, pleased when it seems he wasn’t lying and is capable of basics such as cutting without it becoming a medical emergency and watching the pans.

The cooking indeed seems to help in Buck listening to him out on the field. It’s a good way to integrate him into the team too, because despite his sociable nature, Buck doesn’t make an extended effort to become a part of the team outside of their job.

Bobby hasn’t realized this, since he tries not to engage with the team outside of the firehouse either, until he hears Chimney say: “He’s doing it again. He always says no or starts tapping on his phone before saying yes. It’s like we’re his second choice and he doesn’t want to come to team bonding drinks.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Chim,” Hen replies with an eye roll.

“Buck doesn’t go out drinking with you two?” he finds himself asking, worried for a moment that Buck might also be in recovery, but too awkward to say, and if he should reach out.

“He does, just says no often enough too and he always has to check before he says yes,” Hen shrugs. “I figure he’s checking if they don’t have a party planned he’d rather go to.”

“Or he has to see if his hook up of the evening is worth it in comparison to us,” Chim grouches. “He probably has enough of them lined up that he can be picky about it, the lucky bastard. You see how they throw themselves at him on calls.”

“But he’s not worrying when you do go out?” Bobby prods.

Hen gives him an understanding look, then shakes her head: “Nah, he drinks a couple of beers, but enough water too. He’s always capable of driving home safely. He drinks pretty responsibly for someone who probably only just tumbled out of party culture and seemingly still lives in a frat house.”

Bobby is glad to hear that and lets it go for now, not wanting to open up himself without it being necessary. Still, he keeps an eye out for worrying behavior, but other than him being too eager to attempt risky rescues and feats of daring, the only thing that is slightly worrying is the amount of flirting he does while on the job.

It hasn’t bled into unprofessional yet, but Buck is teetering on the edge and Bobby is waiting on the moment he steps over and he’ll have to reprimand Buck about it. He wishes the kid would keep it in his pants until he’s off the clock, it’s not as if he has a lot to do then.

Of course, Bobby can’t know that Buck does have a lot to do off the clock.

With Eddie being on the mend and Abuela and Pepa helping, parenting has become easier, but Buck is still part of pick up duty, groceries, chores and family time. He usually doesn’t have to worry too much about it when the others go out drinking because Hen is also on a family schedule, but he likes to make sure Eddie is okay for the night alone with Chris on the days he does want to go out with his team, which isn’t always, since he still loves getting to spend his Diaz boys.

However, Buck has been weaning himself off living that domestic life with Eddie. It’s also the reason he hasn’t mentioned either him or Chris at work, because even if they’re married, he knows it isn’t actually like that. It’s not permanent and being in LA has only solidified that for him.

Eddie is working on regaining his strength, soon he’ll be good enough to apply to the fire academy too, having decided it’s a good sounding job from Buck’s stories and something he actually has transferrable skills for. And he’ll do great. He’ll be a firefighter in no time and Buck knows that Eddie can support Chris from the income, since he himself is doing that right now.

It’s only a matter of time before Buck isn’t necessary as a co-parent anymore. Out here, Eddie can actually meet people he’d want to marry for real and then he’ll divorce Buck and he’ll be just the best friend who babysits sometimes.

Hence the flirting.

Which he does on the job.

It’s stupid to try and preemptively fill the void with flirting, but getting that attention makes him feel better, makes him feel like he could have a life after Eddie – even though he’ll never be able to move on from Eddie – so he basks in it.

But he keeps it on the job, doesn’t take it home. Doesn’t want to miss the time he still has with Eddie and Chris, doesn’t want Eddie to see, just in case, so Buck will always be available to him, should he suddenly fall madly in love with him and want to declare that. Like he said, stupid.

And he keeps checking if Eddie is okay when he is asked to go out with his team, hoping that Eddie will say that he needs him home. Wants him home…

What Buck doesn’t know, is that Eddie has been letting him go, saying yes to him staying out as much as he can. Because he feels guilty, so guilty about keeping Buck there. He can picture him going out, flourishing as a young person in a big city, doing his own thing and not being responsible for a child for a bit.

Eddie wants to hold on, likes the life they have together, but he can’t, because Buck deserves to be a young adult for a bit, to stick around until Eddie can do it on his own and then be free of the harsh truth of being a teen parent, even out of teenagehood.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to let Buck go. Buck was just an easy solution after Shannon left, but he’s made himself at home with Eddie. He has a hard time being around people in general, but being around Buck is so easy. Raising Chris with him is so easy. He wants to keep that, keep Buck, but he knows he can’t keep Buck there either. Not when he deserves so much better than Eddie can give him.

So, he enjoys all the time they do have together, the lazy nights on the couch, the days in the park with Chris, the grocery runs and the chaotic mornings. And when those are over, he lets him go. He lets him go out with the friends he has from work, the work he enjoys doing, even if he started out, because he needed to support Eddie and Chris. He’s not thinking about it. He’s not.

Just like Buck isn’t thinking about how easily Eddie lets him go, more and more as time passes and it goes better and better with him. He’s not thinking about how time is running out. He’s not.

Buck is just maybe also spiraling a little and for him that looks like more and more flirting and a new dating app on his phone. He’s never had the healthiest relationship with sex. And now he’s doing something even more stupid. Stealing a firetruck to have sex on the job kind of stupid.

He knows it’s stupid as he does it and he knows it’s stupid when he comes back, but he’s always been a fake it to you make it kind of guy and these people assume he’s some frat dude, might as well live up to expectations. Buck has always tried to live up everyone’s expectations. Always fucked up too. Bitterly thinks that this is not that out of character for him, being Chris’s papi fits less with his track record than this.

Bobby just thinks he has figured Buck out, when he goes and does this. He knows Buck as someone who cares about his job, maybe a bit more about the thrills than the people they save, but he takes it seriously, even if he can be a little unprofessional when flirted with. To have Buck, who cares so much disregard the job like this is weird and it sets Bobby’s teeth on edge.

And looking at Buck now, shrugging: “Come on, Bobby. See the fire, put out the fire. The rest is blah-blah.” Bobby doesn’t recognize the kid he’s come to know.

He knows that Chimney is correct that he goes easy on Buck, but he can’t help it. Sure, Buck can be a cocky little shit, but not like this. It’s out of character and Bobby feels like he should extend him some grace. Plus, there is just something about Buck that makes Bobby want to help him, especially when this feels more like a cry for help than anything else.

Bobby can’t just reach out and offer help, he is too unworthy to form the connections necessary to do so, but he can go easy on him, can continue to not give up on him. So that’s what he does.

The call they’re on, makes him question if he made the right call. It’s like Buck is a different person as they learn what happened and his compassion for the mom goes flying out the window. Bobby knows calls with kids can be rough and Buck hasn’t been on many yet. Sees in his face that he does not like it one bit that a baby is in harm’s way.

But they’ve been on calls where Buck has been compassionate to people who got others hurt, however, that is gone when he yells: “Is that the mother? No, screw her. Look what she did.”

“She’s a child,” Athena screams back.

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t abandon your kid. You fight for them and you stay. You don’t just leave them, no matter how old you are when you have them,” Buck snarls back, before Bobby can interrupt and force Buck to take the mom too, because he is practically refusing.

In the ambulance he watches Buck with the baby, how much he cares about the little one and how wary he is about letting the mom near the baby. But also how he lets her hold the baby’s hand when she reaches out. It’s as if he wants to protect the baby, but also wants the mother to want the infant.

It strikes Bobby that it may very well be that Buck is taking this call very personally. The words he yelled at Athena stick with him and he wonders if Buck is the kid of a teen mom himself, if he was abandoned and that’s why he is taking this so hard.

Then Bobby realizes he has never heard Buck talk about his parents, or his home life at all. For how open he is about almost everything, he is actually quite the closed book. A mystery. It only adds to his worry about what might be going on with Buck. Because even if that would his explain his behavior on this call, it doesn’t explain the behavior before that.

Again he should be reprimanding Buck, but he can’t bring himself to, he feels too much compassion for the kid. Athena, however, has no such qualms, getting out of her cruiser and storming across the parking lot to confront Buck. “Hey! You do not get to decide who lives and dies.”

“Really?” Buck shoots back, looking cocky, something that is both in character and out of place here. It feels like a mask. “Cause I was under the impression that kind of was my job.”

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby. You’re gonna get someone killed,” Athena tells him.

“She was going to get that baby killed. She had no right to just leave a baby, she could have died in that pipe. You get a kid, you step up,” Buck replies, cockiness falling to reveal anger.

It looks wrong on his face, mentally Bobby adds another point for Buck coming from a teen mom home himself, as he looks at the stranger reflected on the familiar face of their probie.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Athena says, righteous anger in the face of Buck’s attitude.

“Sometimes it is and I know what call I’ll make if it comes to that,” Buck replies, not getting out of her face, but defiantly jutting out his chin.

“And you’ll screw up then, like you nearly screwed up today,” Athena informs him bluntly. “And next time you do that, it’ll be your last.” With that said, she stalks off, clearly done with them, Bobby can’t blame her.

He shares a look with Hen, who is as perturbed by the situation as he is. Buck doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong with how he reacted, despite endangering a young girls life. It’s clear that he thinks he’s right when he says: “What?” when he sees them looking.

There are a hundred things Bobby wants to say, but none of them come out. Buck still looks like that stranger instead of their Buck and Bobby wants to believe that this is a one off that he just needs help and a kind hand. So he just says: “Get in the truck,” ignoring Hen’s judgmental eyebrows about it.

Two days later he truly regrets giving Buck a soft hand. He’d hoped that it would work better with him, seeing how well he does with gentle encouragements in the kitchen, but that clearly hasn’t worked. The teen mom should have been his strike two and stealing the firetruck again to have sex, that is strike three. Buck should be out. Buck is out.

Bobby can’t keep being kind, he has to make the hard choice, has to be fair. He should have said more when Buck flirted with the snake lady, he should have never let it get this far in the first place. He can’t keep covering for Buck’s behavior.

“You’re fired,” he tells him, watching how Buck’s face drops.

“What?” he chokes, voice high pitched. “Wait, that’s not fair. You said I got three strikes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bobby has decided on his course of action and he is going to stick with it, no more exceptions for Buck even if he looks like a kicked puppy. “You’ve made this choice yourself, and you rubbed it in my face. The same exact infraction two days after I wrote you up. You’re out of line and you’re not taking this job seriously. So you’re out.”

Bobby starts to walk away and Buck feels like he can’t breathe, he’s felt like that since Bobby first told him he was fired, since the baby in the pipe.

He has been spiraling since before that of course, but that call got to him. A kid being abandoned by their mom… He could so easily see Chris in the place of that baby, unwanted by mom. Chris has already been through so much and Buck’s chest feels tight, because at some point he’s going to have to abandon Chris too. He doesn’t want to, but Eddie will divorce him and he’ll go from papi to uncle Buck if he’s lucky and that terrifies him.

So, he spiraled more, internalized it all until he needed something to try and dull the ache. He tried hanging out with his Diaz boys, but that just made him more aware of the count down, the finite time he has left. Which left this as his other coping mechanism.

He is aware that he’s been self destructing, but his self destruction was never – never – supposed to touch Chris and Eddie. Never. And now it has. Buck has fucked it up, screwed up again and now he is going to fuck up Chris’s life early, even though he never meant to do so all.

Before now, he has not felt fear like this and he feels like crying as he pleads: “Wait, Bobby! Bobby, I- I need this job. Please, don’t do this to me. I have people that rely on me and my income, I- I really need this job. At least until the end of my probie year.”

Bobby looks back and Buck looks absolutely devastated. He is again reminded of a kicked puppy and he wants to help Buck, he does. However, he needs to keep his resolve. He can’t keep giving Buck a free pass. Besides, what or who could he possibly be funding?

So, he shakes his head firmly: “No, I don’t care that you can’t fund your little frat house parties anymore, you can find another job. You can disrespect yourself like this, but but you are done disrespecting our firehouse and this fire department.”

“That’s not what I’m funding,” Buck frowns, he looks hurt, though resigned, Bobby vaguely wonders what that is about. “I got a-”

“No,” he cuts him off, “I don’t wanna hear it. I said you’re done.”

And with that he walks away. He drives back in the car he came in, leaving Buck to take down the ladder and drive the engine back to the firehouse. As Buck is doing that, he retreats into his office, not wanting to give the young man a chance to talk him out of it. This is his decision, he should stay firm on it. Though he can’t find it within himself to start on the firing paperwork. Not yet.

He refrains from going out there to watch Buck get changed and pack his stuff, not wanting the other to get a chance to change his mind. Still, he is almost grateful for the call that comes in, giving him a chance to interrupt Hen and Buck talking, wanting to check up on him in some way.

Buck looks defeated. It looks wrong on him. Bobby wants to fix that and that scares him, he has kept to himself for years now. He doesn’t like that he feels responsible for Buck, wants him to do well. Bobby isn’t meant to be alive, to be connected. And he is becoming connected to Buck, feels paternal over him. Cares for him in a way he doesn’t about the other firefighters under his command.

So, he tells himself he made the right call in letting Buck go. He can’t help Buck, it’s not his job and Buck is endangering the people he is supposed to be saving. The ones that will make it right.

Still, he can’t help but ask Hen what their talk was about. Hen shrugs, looking thoughtful. “He really needs his job, says he has people to support.”

“Yeah, right,” Chimney snorts. “Supplying booze isn’t supporting people.”

“I don’t know, he looked serious,” Hen frowns. “He asked how long he’ll keep his insurance, then if he could tell me something.”

Bobby remembers Buck on that roof, saying people depended on him, he’d made the same assumption Chimney did, but now he worries if he was wrong. If there is something more, something to explain his behavior both recently and the maturity he could show that seemed out of place in the rest of his frat boy persona.

He is burning with curiosity about what Buck might have wanted to tell her. But he’ll likely never find out, Buck will be gone when they get back from this call. Life will resume as normal. It’s for the best that way.

Yet, when Hen tells him what she’s done, the second chance she has given Buck on Bobby’s behalf, he can’t help but be grateful.

And he is even more grateful when Athena calls, giving props to Buck for his work. If the woman who was yelling at him two days ago can have a change of heart about him, Bobby has a case to keep Buck there. Then he can justify it to himself.

However, he needs to know Buck has grown from the experience, that he won’t shoot in that cocky, the Devil may care attitude to cover himself. So he doesn’t say a thing and just stands there, watching Buck climb out of the engine.

“I know what this looks like,” Buck tells him. Good, he is aware that what he did is wrong and willing to explain his behavior. Two pluses for Buck.

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to change,” Buck sulks, looking as if he expects to be reprimanded without getting a chance to explain himself. Again.

Bobby feels a stab of guilt and he tries to make up for it by saying: “Sargent Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are. Told her she was half right.”

“You’re giving me another chance?” Buck asks and he looks so hopeful, so relieved that Bobby can’t help but feel he made the right call. Though the relief niggles something in his brain.

“You’ve used up all your chances,” he still says, watching Buck stiffen, before he adds: “But so have I. Because I have somehow failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

It makes the most sense to Bobby. Buck is young, this is his first big job, he might not be as aware of what it takes to keep a job and what a responsibility it is. He is sociable and nice enough, but saving people likely isn’t as much of a priority as the thrilling stunts they do to rescue people. He likely only just got comfortable enough here to pull something like this and the fact that it coincided with that baby call is nothing more than a coincidence. But he’s learned from it now.

“You’re wrong,” Buck surprises him. “I absolutely do know what a privilege it is to serve here and I am sorry for not showing that. I love my job and I don’t want to jeopardize it. Ever. I take it very seriously and I will continue to do so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby says, but he knows it’s fond, so he doesn’t look back. “Your shift is not over yet. Go get dressed.”

Then he walks away. Behind him, he hears Buck ask Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers. “By the way, what did you want to tell me, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, cockiness back, but in the usual playful manner of his.

Hen clearly believes him, playfully threatening: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice.”

However, Bobby isn’t sure if that is the whole truth, the words from the roof and what Hen said in the engine are still ringing in his head, but he doesn’t have any evidence to back it up. Plus, he has no definitive reason to think so with what he has seen in the kid.

Still, it plays on his mind as the two disappear from his hearing range and it rears its head once more when Buck comes into his office a little later, looking a little shy, which is unusual for him. “I, uhm- I wanted to check if you officially fired me or just said it and never got around to it?” Quickly he assures: “Either way I am so happy to have my job back, I just wanted to know if it’ll impact anything, like, uhm- like my insurance?”

As he did to Hen, he is mentioning insurance again. “It won’t affect anything, I never got around to doing the paperwork and I’m not doing the extra work to make a point when you already learned your lesson,” Bobby tells him kindly. To satiate his own curiosity, he adds: “Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”

“Oh, uh, no, Cap,” Buck smiles and Bobby knows he’s lying.

“You can trust me with anything, you know that, right?” Bobby pushes.

Now the smile becomes real and Buck nods: “I know. It’s- it’s private, but it doesn’t effect me in the field. Just want to be on top of everything, you know. Be an adult.”

Bobby wants to push more, get a proper answer, but he has his own skeletons in the closet, he won’t go digging for those of someone else when it doesn’t impact their work. Buck might have a sickly grandma, who raised him or something, that is a dependent. Someone he doesn’t actively care for, but supports financially.

That night, Buck goes home, still shaking a little. Eddie is on the couch, still awake despite it being a god awful hour since his meds make him sleepy so his whole rhythm is thrown off. He smiles when he sees Buck, then frowns when he collapses on the couch next to him, burrowing his face in the couch cushions.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, sounding a little worried as he prods Buck.

He can never know how Buck almost screwed up. How he almost put them in financial trouble and fucked up their insurance; the exact same thing that forced Eddie to sign up for the army. He can’t let Eddie find out that he’s an irresponsible idiot. Can’t give Eddie a reason to kick him to the curb early.

So, he murmurs: “Long day. Rough,” hoping the muffling of the couch pillow will hide the way he lies.

Eddie’s hand appears on his leg, startling him slightly, before he relaxes into the comforting squeeze. The action fills Buck with both fondness and guilt. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah,” Buck says, because Eddie will know if he comes up with something. He does free his face from the cushion and rearranges himself on the couch so that he can watch the telenovella Eddie has on.

“Alright, but you can if you want to,” Eddie offers.

Buck’s heart feels just about ready to burst. “Thanks,” he smiles, selfishly allowing himself to bask in this feeling, ignoring how he nearly screwed it all up and how some day he is going to lose it. He is not going to risk anything like that again. He’ll deal differently.

21 notes · View notes

fisherrprince · 1 year ago

Note

for the ffxiv specbio stuff, do you headcanon the people on the First as having physically different traits from the people on the Source, or are they pretty one to one? and if so, were there any strange looks/social faux pas regarding the scions while on the First?

THIS IS REALLY INTERESTING ACTUALLY I think… that the species are all the same, mostly, but since they evolved/grew/colonized in/from different environments, there are definitely differences because of that. Like, say, dwarves not having any of the lalafells’ adaptations to sand, and instead having darkvision in their mining environments and more of a mole snout than a slit snout. Maybe being fuzzier overall. Or elves not having that split between duskwight (colorful, variant cave animal) and wildwood (forest animal). Heck there’s not a lot of elves at all, are there? Was their homeland just so concentrated that most of them were wiped? Another hard thing about this is the complete lack of knowledge we have of the regions before the Flood outside of Norvrandt! Or maybe just knowledge I have. Lol. I don’t have encyclopedia eorzea 2 or 3 just the first one… if anyone can hook me up with a First Lore Historian. I’d love to learn. Or with 50 bucks so I can grab the encyclopedia

And then, even, after the Flood, a lot of culture broke down in favor of communication and survival, so people just souped together. In short… ok. I think the First had a very fairytale vibe, so their designs should reflect that. I know drahn and galdjent have like a kingdom thing going on. There’s probably WAY less sea imagery and ocean features on roe in the first. More puppies than sea puppies, vaguely. More mountainy? Drahn I think are much more draconic than most Auri people, think fairytale dragon guys. They have the kind of customs that fairytale dragons and fae have, too, so it’s historically easy to say something odd to them and vice versa. Giants and dragons! I haven’t met a single elf except Ardbert’s friend. That’s an exaggeration but like no important npcs were elves. They seem very isolationist to me, very used to solo travel. Humes seem to have been mostly in kingdoms as well, like Ishgard, but less Catholic. They’re probably the most same. Garleans as a race of people do not exist on the First which is interesting. Ronso seem much more family-oriented, work-oriented, still cowboys, but very similar. I think the coeurl type hrothgar would be replaced with something else. Viis we know a lot about! They seem to be very similar as well, though I think just for fun for me, they’re Bigger. Like, taller, they’re isolated in a warm forest with plenty of prey and big magic energy. Viis big. Mystel I don’t know about, but they don’t SEEM to be desert cats, so I actually think. They don’t have undereye markings. Some of them have fold ears or domestic triangle cat ears rather than wild cat features. Familiar-like, not a lion pride — so they don’t have the same family structure miqote do either, it’s more like wolves where location and family are top tier. And Dwarves for sure have more mole than mouse features - thick claws on their toes and fingers, a little snoot, and very reflective eyes that are a bit sensitive to light.

As for social faux pas… I think that Miqote, to show they’re unserious or apologetic, bunt or touch the other cat, lay down or sit next to them, put their tail on the other’s tail, something physical — and Mystel will lick their lips and look away and NOT touch, because further touching is To Fight. Ari FOR SURE tried to lean on and got smacked by Kai-Shirr and then smacked him back in betrayal. It took Alphy intervention to fix that. It is also way more common for humes to grumble and growl than it is for hyur (that’s bad manners. Imagine you bumped into someone at the store and they growled at you), so there was one point where Ryne actually (quietly like a kid swearing for the first time) grrrd at a monster and thancred had a whole 20 minutes of thinking to himself wether or not this was OK feral child behavior to let her keep doing or if he should tell her not to or. Or what. What do here. Is this OK. And lastly..,,, lalafellin alcohol is pretty strong, but their beer and mead taste great so it’s a popular party drink. dwarven alcohol is INCREDIBLY strong, it contains an ingredient mildly toxic to every other race except mord. You are SUPPOSED to, however you decide to do it, last a number of mugs (if you’re a bigger race, dilute the thing with soda or juice, you might get teased but it’s what you do). Some people were not aware of this and passed out after one mug, and got pitiful beards drawn on them (Urianger’s wispy stubble was quite silly to the rest of the party)

I’d love to compile more abt the First just in general. maybe my ideas would change with more info … anyways! Thank u for letting me drop a very large text bubble :]

#ffxiv #ask #vivinavina #shadowbringers spoilers #I like the first so much…….

41 notes · View notes

chibelial · 5 months ago

Text

I can’t make a single post about donations, be it a sincere call for some small and quick aid when I’m in a bind with like med costs, or an obvious joke for my fellow poor people on the unemployed persons website; I can’t avoid being contacted by a scammer or a bit feigning interest in helping a legit disabled poor person out.

I know a lot of you guys use tumblr to signal most your on the spot dono needs for food or for Ubers or what have you; I’ve tried to do so with med costs here and there myself so I feel the struggle.

These scammers have always e en obvious to me from the very first dm, I’ve never actually BEEN scammed. But I know some people are far more desperate, in worse scenarios, have less time, or just are more trusting and less experienced with scum of the earth grifters. Please help careful out there if you post about needing any sort of aid and get a response, don’t be embarrassed to show it to someone else for a second opinion if it seems weird. Most of all, here’s my two biggest takeaways;

1. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Somebody, especially somebody on tumblr, could probably loan you anywhere from 5 to 50 bucks. Over the last couple years I’ve gotten about $90 in donations when I ask for assistance with medications, which is not much, but it’s realistic I guess. If someone’s offering a lotttt, be extra skeptical.

2. Nine times outta Ten a genuine donation will just come from someone who just. Sends You The Money. Via whatever link you made available in your post or blog. And then they’ll attach a message to said payment like if it’s PayPal or they’ll dm you around the same time with just a little like “hope you’re doing ok, sent you a lil help and ofc a reblog for the boost♥️”. If they’re telling you a story or saying they want a sugar baby or they try to act like they’ve been scammed and want some weird proof; it’s a scam. I’d they’re offering to send you a check via any means, even just a pic; that’s almost certainly a scam. If the blog is relatively new and has little to no original posts; probably a bot.

Idk how gullible the average tumblr user is, but I know a lot of us have been in quite a few financial binds, and we aren’t above asking one another for aid. And my stomach turns whenever I get these scammers, because I have to wonder, have they succeeded in fucking any of us?

#urgent help #urgent aid #boost #disability #scammers #scams #aid

3 notes · View notes

inexchangeforyoursoul · 2 years ago

Text

time for some actual blogging bc why not

So anyway, I read that gay Chinese zombie book. I have not read an actual book since forever and was doomed, when originally writing this, to wait out the arrival of the rest of the series that I've promptly ordered, and you know what? Let's write a review is what.

For the dry tl;dr we are talking about a strong 8.5 for the first volume, and even that is because of display A, me not being interested in 80% of the school flashback chapter, and display B, the kajillions of similar names that get spiced up with the 2-4 fancy titles of the big shots which get used interchangeably as per demand. Not my demands, but probably good manners' which I'm a stranger to. The short bios of people in the front are a blessing if you want to follow who's who early on; obviously, I didn't savor it as if it was some holy scripture, but for the first chapter you also don't even need it.

Speaking of content, this was not something I expected with my main previous information source being random osmosis via internet. In fact, all I knew is that a main character comes back from the dead, there's other dead people, everyone is wearing pretty much traditional clothes and it's allegedly some good gay shit.

But this wasn't much of a preparation. See, that info was out of context mumbo-jumbo, much like what I'm trying to tap together right now to avoid spoilers. This isn't a fantasyfied period piece or a love story despite one of the main characters working a whole ass pine plantation. (Wonder how long it will take Wei Wuxian till the yuan drops, really. Current gayness rating is 3/10 btw as apart from his body having belonged to an outed twenty-something year old and him playing it up for either giggles or strategy, there's not much else to it.) What I'm trying to say is that man, when I bought the paperback seeing it was 50% off for roughly 5 'Murrican bucks I certainly wasn't expecting a supernatural action detective story with an enjoyable cast and a cliffhanger I wanted to punch a wall over. Color me intrigued. But there's another point I'd like to make.

The point being that the book is funny as hell. Of course this doesn't say much as my sense of humor is pretty niche, but I digress.

Wei Wuxian is a feral gremlin. A very professional and kind-hearted one, but a menace nonetheless. The number of times he's willingly done something irresponsible or stupid followed by regret .5 seconds later is on par with the number typos I've found in my translation. Which isn't a whole whole lot, but it's weird it happened as many times as it did. I'd ask how he's still alive, but, y'know…

The straight man to his antics (lol), Lan Wangji, is usually as interesting as a freshly whitened wall but when he isn't he's amazing. Also has the best scene in the whole volume, hands down. I was reassured there's more of the same to come and I'm filled with giddy anticipation because it had me thriving.

The Lan boys are sweethearts, I hope they'll stick around. They have their own little shenanigans and even if you aren't big on them you'll still look forward to their unexpected appearances once you realize that they are an indicator of shit hitting the whirling device and whipping up a whole entire storm in the very foreseeable future.

Wuxian's uh… nephew? I think it's his nephew. (He's called Jin Ling. I recognize it already, but haven't memorized it yet.) He is very punchable but obviously also a kid and I'm starting to worry for him, man. Either way, he has a demonic hellhound. Name's Fairy. Nuff said.

Then this new Xiao dude is fascinating me for a number of reasons, but even if he wasn't he had the funniest line in the book about 5 pages before things became wild and I was slapped across space-time and jail bars on the face with a to be continued.

The fact that this is a longer story that allows you to dwell on and theorize about stuff is also something I greatly appreciate as a One Piece and Homestuck fan. Theory crafting for an ongoing series is half of the fun, really!! (Ok, it's not ongoing, but I'm forced to treat it as such.) How will we get rid of Wen Ning's shackles? What even is he like when conscious? How long will it take for people other than Wei Wuxian's contemporaries to realize who he is? Will he drop the act himself seeing it's only a question of time until the info spreads? How close is Jin Ling to realizing that his uncle was right? Will he turn on Wuxian entirely or is he invested enough to stick around? Will he turn out to be a respectable cultivator later or be sacrificed for an especially tragic plot twist? What about Wei Wuxian's chances of survival in his current position? For that matter, will all the Lan boys live till the very end? Was the blind man pulling the strings all along or was he tricked into the murder and turned to the forbidden arts in desperation?? Are we fighting for our very lives or merely being tested right now?! Either way, the overpowered zombie talisman is nearby, the plot thickens!!!

So much to think about, I love it!

And although the whys and hows of the logistics are a total question mark, since about halfway through the volume, I have been about 80% convinced of who the unalive person we're on a quest to reassemble is. It's low-key worrying for a number of reasons, but whatever. But this is just a theory. A literary theory.

…

The next volumes can't arrive soon enough, man. (Before I posted this, they already did. Brb I need to rehydrate.)

#Kate reads

5 notes · View notes

kinardsevan · 3 months ago

Text

So I’m split 50/50 on this at this point. Because we don’t have crystal clear answers on ANYTHING, and there is a part of me that’s like “leaning into the trope actually makes sense for everything else they’ve done with this story”. But then obviously the interviews are so ass backwards, and and and…

Lou’s answers also aren’t crystal. He said he was back at SWAT, which he quite literally is right now, so it’s not like he said it and he went back weeks later to shoot SWAT. His answers about “opportunities” isn’t clear either because working actors by nature, always have opportunities. We have no idea if 911 includes those opportunities (based on my theory of this being a fake out, I mean).

I will say though. When rewatching the breakup from the understanding that Buck is very starry-eyed and “look at you, you magnificent Gay Man”, the breakup is easily understood for me. I vibe with @spectres-fulcrum’s theory. It actually makes a SHIT ton of sense. Further, I’m not gonna lie… if someone told me they wanted to take the next step in a relationship (and that step was moving in together), but I Love You hadn’t even been said… I’d be checking for a fever. It unfortunately comes across as not understanding the seriousness of the suggestion. Like obvs our little shipper hearts were smashed when Tommy was like “not only can I not live with you, but it’s unlikely that I’m the person you’ll choose to stay with”. When you couple the fear with the reasonability of what he’s actually saying, it makes sense.

This is why I’ve said that at its core, if the people writing the story have a brain and didn’t just throw shit at the wall (which will remain to be seen), there has to be a come to Jesus moment about their feelings for one another. Buck has to address whether he actually loves Tommy or if he was just along for the ride because Tommy made everything so easy. (I feel like we as the viewers know they’re in love, but it has to be expressed. And then there needs to be some level of effort in the story where Tommy is pulled into the fold.

I say all that (again) to point out that if this is NOT what the show is doing, and they just split them up because they thought it would make good drama (or some other shitty excuse)… that’s not just dropping the ball. That’s proverbially shitting the bed. And if that’s actually the case… imma see my way out (probably).

So yes, I hold out hope that everything we’ve been told over the past week is to keep us distracted. But I also know that when I reread those same quotes and rewatched the breakup with a clear head (and not from my shipper standpoint), things felt clearer.

In closing…. They did still massively fumble the way they were trying to communicate the issues in the relationship. This was not done well by any stretch of the imagination. But we’ll see what they settle on doing next.

ngl if it turns out that Tommy was coming back all along and that this was all part of the romcom ‘breaking up then making up’ trope i’m gonna be so embarrassed for getting this sad 💀 but that’s what i get for catching up with a series for once ig

#Mel’s musings #bucktommy #the god awful breakup

282 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 1 year ago

Text

'...I should be able to have a mai tai and enjoy a movie

I saw last night “Oppenheimer,” Christopher Nolan’s bio-thriller on the life of American physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, who led the Manhattan Project during World War II.

I had planned to save my review of the film until I could debate it with Ed during this week’s episode of The Pillar Podcast, which we’ll do, for sure.

But I’d hate for anyone to spend their money on “Oppenheimer” without the benefit of a good forewarning.

I’ll offer three caveats:

— I saw “Oppenheimer” with my dad, who bought my movie ticket and my popcorn. I love going to the movies with my dad — a Pillar reader in a good way — so I should clarify to him that I’m reviewing the movie, not the experience. I’ll see a movie with you anytime, Dad. Especially when you buy the popcorn.

— I saw “Oppenheimer” after two Mai Tais, which packed more punch than I expected. Those Mai Tais didn’t impact my judgment, but they might have lowered my sense of decorum, which is why I laughed at some of the movie’s super serious parts.

— There was gratuitous nudity and sex in the movie. It didn’t need to be there, or — if, for some reason, it did — it didn’t need to be quite so graphic. It was to my way of thinking so ugly and mechanical that while sexual, it was not pornographic. It was salacious, but not titillating — an ugly exploitation of sex, in which the plot’s most bleak moral outlook was laid bare.

I wouldn’t take a young person to the movie, because of the sex, but for about 50 other reasons, too.

So, caveats aside, here’s my take:

��Oppenheimer” is a well-shot, well-planned, well-acted film, full of haunting cinematography, especially its focus on the face of its protagonist, which was used to tell masterfully a great deal of the story.

It captured well the bleak beauty of the desert, man’s quixotic quest to control nature, the folly of bureaucratizing the most powerful weapon in human history, and the moral depravity which gripped nearly everyone who got involved.

It was a film about Eden, and about Babel.

And it was a movie about actions with consequences, which might be entirely foreseen, and still vainly charged into.

The mode of storytelling was itself part of the story, it flashed between periods of time — it offered snippets, not sequences, to vivify that some calculation on a blackboard could set the world on fire.

In all of those senses, it was an interesting and powerful movie.

But it suffered the problem that most Christopher Nolan movies suffer from — it prized vibe over substance, nearly collapsing under the weight of its own “artfulness,” and its inconsideration to the viewer.

Christopher Nolan is the sort of filmmaker who is probably offended by the idea that he might do anything, ever, to accommodate people who plunked down 12 hard-earned bucks to see his movie, maybe after a pair of Mai Tais on an empty stomach.

If he isn’t going to tell his story sequentially, in the time-honored manner of storytelling, he might at least put the date in the corner from time-to-time, so that people watching the movie might have some idea what the hell is actually going on. Or make the flashback black-and-white, and put the present in color. Or have a radio announcer in the background say the year.

Christopher Nolan is rude, if you ask me, and borders on scornful toward the people who see his films. It’s cinema as ego trip. An audience is a privilege, not an irritation.

It’s one thing, I guess, for a movie like “Inception” to leave the viewer confused — and to confirm at the end that the whole thing was just one big mindjob, possibly devoid of actual rationality, but revered by the Nolan-gnostics as a work of genius, which normies like me are just too insipid to understand.

But “Oppenheimer” was ostensibly a movie about a real person who really lived through the real events depicted in the movie. Would it have been so hard to say “this part happened in 1959,” or “right now, it’s supposed to be 1946?”

Would it have offended Nolan’s artistic integrity to let people know what the real sequence of this man’s life actually was? Could he have maybe just put on the table, in some critical scenes, a newspaper with a date displayed?

I talked with someone this morning who read “American Prometheus,” the book upon which “Oppenheimer” is based. To them the movie was intelligible and coherent. Fair enough. But none of us should have to read the book to get the movie. That ‘s too much of an ask.

I’m not saying a weird, confusing movie is always bad — and I actually liked Nolan’s “Memento” very much.

But “Oppenheimer” is too clever by half — its effort to bend space and time — like a nuclear reactor, I guess — leaves normal members of the audience feeling like they got bombed by an insecure “genius” desperate to prove himself.

OH!

Maybe that’s the point.

Maybe “Oppenheimer” was more autobiography than biopic.

At least that’s what I’m going to say when fanboys tell me that my tastes are too middlebrow, and that I don’t deserve Nolan’s genius.

They’re right. I don’t deserve Christopher Nolan. None of us do, no matter our sins.

Or, maybe I am too middlebrow. Maybe I prefer a nice Tom Hanks-style biopic with a beginning, middle, and end. Maybe I just like, you know, normal movies.

I can live with that. For 12 bucks, just tell me a story that isn’t about how smart you are.

Einstein, by the way, was the most interesting character of “Oppenheimer.” Despite himself, maybe Christopher Nolan knows that he’s no Spielberg...'

#Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Einstein #Steven Spielberg #Inception

0 notes

youvegotrpmemes · 3 years ago

Text

50 random starters

-feel free to adjust to better fit your muse’s speech!

"Yeah, about that..."

"I, um... might have... had something to, uh... do with that..."

"Don't you dare."

"Oh, no. I know that look. I know what that look means. Absolutely not."

"Can you stop being weird about it for five seconds?"

"Why is the plural of moose still moose? Why not meese?"

"I almost caught myself on fire..."

"Bite me."

"Hey! Guess what!"

"There's nothing to worry about, but I'd stay out of the kitchen for a while."

"Big deal - I bet I could do that with [my hands/one hand tied behind my back/blindfolded/in x amount of time/backwards]."

"I might've befriended a mafia boss..."

"You know what I want right now? [Sender's favorite food]."

"Touch that and I will hit you with a spoon."

"Do I actually want to know or will I be better off not knowing? Because I feel like I'll be better off not knowing."

"Do you think snails have feelings?"

"Why is Christmas such a big deal? Is it because of capitalism?"

"Have you ever had a wish come true by throwing a coin into a fountain?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Check please!”

“Hey. What’s going on with you and [name]?”

“You know... I think I should... go.”

“Nope, sorry, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Wait. Did I say left? Heh, I meant to say right.”

“Yeah, of course I speak another language! ...It just might not come in handy unless we go to a Star Trek convention...”

“Look, I know I said I could handle a lot of things, but that is not one of them.”

“Well, we have six minutes until we need to leave! ...Never mind, make that four minutes. Actually, we should just leave now.”

“...Want some smoothie?”

“I’ve never felt this way before...”

“I bet I could fight a swarm of bees.”

“Have you ever gotten a stuffed animal from a claw machine?”

“Uh... surprise?”

“Sure, I can do a magic trick. I’ll make that whole tub of ice-cream disappear in ten minutes.”

“Why is it the cake that’s a lie? Why isn’t it the pie?”

“What would you do if you had a million dollars right now?”

“No, no. When I said kids, I meant kids as in goat babies. Not human babies.”

“The only thing straight about me are my grades from [middle school].”

“Yeah, I’ve been to [place]. Once. It was... the worst.”

“Don’t be ridiculous - of course you need me. Who else is going to annoy you?”

“I miss you.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but... I had nowhere else to go.”

“What are you going off about?”

“Of course you’re my hero! How could you not be?”

“Would you rather have a pet shark or a pet whale?”

“Oh, yeah? Try me.”

“Oh, wow... You... you look absolutely stunning...”

“Hypothetically speaking... what if I got a [puppy/kitten]?”

“Come on, talk to me. What’s going on? Was it something I did?”

“I’ll pay you ten bucks to fight me.”

“Congratulations! You played both of us.”

#rp meme #ask meme #meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme

1K notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years ago

Text

Swipe Right

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky has been your neighbor for a few months now, so he likes to think you two are friends. Which is why he thinks you're the best person to go to to help him get back into the dating scene.

AN: inspired by one line of dialogue from the first ep of Falcon and the Winter Soldier. lol also, FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER EP 1 SPOILERS!

Bucky felt lost. Well, he's always felt lost ever since he suddenly came back along with have of the world's population. He was pardoned by the government and now a civilian. He was going through therapy to deal with his 70+ years worth of trauma and trying to navigate his way through the modern world. Everything was new and exciting but also overwhelming and exhausting.

His therapist encouraged him to date and make friends. So that's what he did, or at least, tried to do.

He considers you a friend. You live in the apartment right beside him, gave him a friendly smile and helping hand when he first moved in. You two chatted when you'd run into each other in the hall or in the laundry room. You were nice, attractive, funny. He honestly thought about asking you out a few times, but you were his friend, his only friend it seems. So he couldn't ruin that. Therefore, he resorted to online dating.

He signed up to a bunch of dating websites and apps: eharmony, match.com, plentyoffish, tinder-SO MANY. Why are there so many dating apps?!

He's scrolling through his phone, so overwhelmed by the different pictures and information. What does DTF mean???

He scowls, tossing his phone onto a pile of dry laundry he should be folding. You enter the laundry room with a chuckle, "Everything alright?"

He glances over his shoulder and sees you. He immediately smiles and faces you, "Hey, um, yeah," he gestures to his phone, "Just, um..." he lets out a sigh and asks, "Do you know anything about dating?"

You look at him curiously and reply, "A little. Why? What's up?"

"I'm just," he nervously scratches his head and places his hands on his hips, "I'm trying this online dating thing and it's...a lot."

You can't help but snort, "I feel ya," you give him a reassuring smile despite your heart dropping to your stomach, "So, uh, what sites or apps are you on?"

"Um...all of them?"

You snort again, "No way. Let me see your phone." you hold out your open palm to him and he places his phone into your hands after unlocking it. You swipe through his apps and your brows shoot up to your hairline, "Well it's not all of them , but it's definitely a lot." you look up from the phone to Bucky, "Can I give some advice?"

"Please, I'll take anything you can give me," he replies desperately.

You hop onto the washing machine and hold up his phone, "Okay. These apps are usually for the older crowd. Like thirty five and up, so if you're not picky about age, feel free to keep these. Now, these apps are what the younger generations use. Tinder is usually for hook ups, one night stands and all that. Not many people take Tinder seriously. Bumble, is a level up from Tinder. You'll find people who are more serious about finding a relationship with also a mix of people looking for something casual. Hinge, I think, is a level up from Bumble. You don't see people's typical lame ass bios, but their answers to some fun questions, what kind of relationship they're looking for, if they smoke or do drugs, etc. Also, I'm not sure if you know this, but you can change the age range on all of these apps. So instead of having it from 18 to 50, you can narrow it so 25 to 35 or however you want."

You look at Bucky and see his brows are furrowed in...concentration? Confusion?

"Was that too much? Do I need to slow down?"

He shook his head, "No, no, that's not it. Um, thanks, Y/N," he shoots you a grateful grin and you smile back, "No problem, Bucky." You see the gears turning in his head and you ask a question, he might be scared to ask you, "Do you want me to help you find some potential dates?"

"Will you?" he asks in that same desperate tone from earlier.

Again, you put on a smile, despite your breaking heart, "Sure!"

You tap on Hinge, double checking on his preferences, and then going to the main page.

"Oh! Look here. She's a single mom, but she's also a nurse. On the weekends, you're most likely going to find her wine drunk and watching movies with her kids. She has pets. She'd like to have more kids some day. She sounds nice. How 'bout it, Bucky?"

"Sure. She-She sounds good."

"Cool! So you tap on the heart on whatever thing on her page. So let's like her....answer here. If you want, you can comment something, but if not, you just forward it and hope to see that she'll like you back and you can start messaging her! Also, it looks like some people already like you! So you just tap on this icon here and you can scroll through the different people who've liked something on your page and it's up to you if you want to make contact or not."

Bucky hums and plucks his phone from your hands, "Wow. This-Thanks Y/N. This really helped."

"No problem, Buck! If you ever need more help, just let me know!" you hop off the washer and proceed to start up a load of laundry. You mind running back and forth about how you should shoot your shot, but you were too afraid of ruining the friendship you and Bucky have.

______________________

Bucky: Hey

You: What's up?

Bucky: can you come over? I need more help with this online dating situation.

You: sure!

You let your phone fall to your side with a sigh, Bucky has been asking for your help with his online dating for two weeks now and while you're always happy to help him, it just sucks seeing someone get his attention that you wish you had.

You roll out of bed, not caring about how you looked and exit your apartment, knocking on Bucky's door.

He swings open to reveal him in a tight blue henley and some black jeans, "Hey!" he shoots you a grin and moves aside to let you in, "So, um, this girl, Janine. We've been messaging for a few days now and she wants to meet up. Is that too soon? And where should I take her? I've," he pauses to chuckle to himself, "I haven't dated since the forties so..."

Despite your feelings for him, you knew Bucky deserved to be happy, especially after all the shit he's gone through.

"Hm, well, what kind of vibes are you getting from her?"

"Vibes?"

"Yeah, um, what feelings do you get when you talk to her? Do you feel happy? Do you want to get to know her more?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so. I think it'd be nice to meet her in person and get to know her more face to face."

"Then yeah, take her out. But since it's your first time meeting her in person, it should be something casual. Low key, no pressure. A decent restaurant or a bar is probably best."

Bucky nods, "Yeah. Okay. Um, do you think you could help me pick something out?"

You can't help but laugh, "Bucky, I'm sure whatever you choose to wear, you'll be fine."

"Okay. Thanks, Y/N," he slowly wraps his arms around you for a hug, but not too tight in case you're uncomfortable. You surprise him by hugging him back, giving him a little squeeze, "You're welcome, Bucky."

It was Saturday and you didn't have work. You friends asked you to hangout with them, but you didn't want to. You wanted to stay holed up in your apartment, wallowing because Bucky would be going on his date with Janine tonight.

You're mindlessly watching tv , curled up on the couch. You turn your face into the pillow and scream in frustration. You should've just asked him out when you had the chance, but now that chance is gone.

You groan as you roll off the couch and head to your balcony. You just need some fresh air. You push up your window and climb onto the metal balcony. You sit on the outdoor chair you have there and stare up into the night sky. The stars are twinkling, the moon is shining. It looks like a perfect night for a date and here you are, alone.

"Hey-"

"AAAHHH!" you scream by the sudden appearance of Bucky on his own balcony. You're staring at him wide eyed, hand on your chest.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at your expression, "Sorry."

You shake your head and stand to meet him, "It's fine. What're you doing here? I thought you were on your date."

"Yeah, uh, turns out Janine didn't, what phrase did you use once, pass the vibe check?"

You snort, covering your mouth as you giggled. Bucky's smile grows at the sound and you pull yourself together, "Um, yeah that's it. But I'm sorry."

He shrugs, leaning against the railing, "Honestly, it's okay. I don't think the online dating thing is really for me. I think I'll probably stick to the old fashion way: meeting in person and asking them out on a date."

"That's understandable," you say with a nod.

"So how 'bout it?"

You look at him confused, "How 'bout what?"

"Do you wanna go on a date sometime?" you give a look of surprise and Bucky immediately adds, "But I totally understand if you don't want to. I just-you're nice, and beautiful, and funny I thought maybe-but we're friends so I totally understand if you don't-"

"No, no. Bucky, I just-I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Yeah?" You nod and he holds out his hand, "Come on then."

You give a nervous chuckle, "What?"

"I picked up a pizza after that disastrous date. We can eat and watch a movie. Casual and no pressure, right?"

You look from his striking blue eyes to his outstretched glove hand. You reach out to place your hand in his but then pull back, "Wait. I should probably change."

You step back to head back into your apartment, but Bucky grabs your hand, "You don't have to. You look great."

You chuckle and begin to climb from your railing to Bucky's, with his help, "Alright, Prince Charming. I expect to be wooed tonight."

"Of course you do, which is why I ordered pizza from your favorite place and I'm letting you pick the movie we watch."

"Bucky Barnes, I could kiss you!" you exclaim thoughtlessly but then you realized what you just said. You shook your head and began to ramble off excuses, "No no! I mean not now! Now that I don't want to kiss you. You're very kissable. Not that I imagine kissing you or anything it's just-"

Bucky leans in and gives you a little peck on the cheek, "I don't kiss until after the date's over, doll. So will that suffice for now?"

You could feel your cheeks heating up as you nodded and squeaked out, "Yup!"

He chuckled, taking your hand in his again and leading you to the couch where the pizza was waiting for you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #fem!reader #fatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier

726 notes · View notes

the-witchhunter · 9 months ago

Text

“And there we go” came a gravely voice from somewhere out of frame.

The camera jostled as it was set down on something before stilling. A man walked into frame, and sat down before looking into the camera. He appeared disheveled, dark hair wild and his plaid shirt sliced open in what appeared to be claw makes, a band t shirt peeking out through the large holes. The five o’clock shadow and bags under his eyes suggested a generally unkempt nature, but his current state seemed out of the ordinary.

“So, yeah. I’m not usually the one on this side of the camera, so apologies if I’m not the most photogenic or articulate.” He spoke relaxing into his seat

“My name is Greg, and I’m a cameraman at Neon Moon Entertainment. Now, I suspect most people have never heard of Neon Moon. For those of you who recognize the name, yes, it’s the studio that made the ‘Evil Weevil’ movies. I personally never worked on any of those. They hired me after the fifth was released and we still have a couple months before we start filming the sixth.”

Greg paused, pulling out a cigarette from out of frame. He pulled an old zippo lighter from his pocket, the thing scratched and scraped to all hell. With a flick, a flame spluttered into existence as he lit his cigarette.

“Now, you may be asking yourselves, ‘what the hell is this jackass doing?’ And to that I say…” he paused, thinking. “I don’t know. Last will and testament? Killing time?” He shrugged. “Listen, I’m locked in a prop closet with some kind of monster prowling outside and nothing but a camera and a case of prop cigarettes to keep me busy. The studio buys the things in bulk, the fake cigs, not the monster.

So, start at the beginning. Got a job here, they were short a cameraman after the last one disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Office gossip was he owed money to the mob, but something makes me think otherwise… Something large and hairy and currently prowling outside this door… I’m saying I think the monster got him.

So yeah, I started working at a two bit horror studio. The pay is shit, the hours are long, and everyone that works here is crazy. I’d say, that’s showbiz, but that’s just having a job. Fucking capitalism, am I right? But as much as this job sucked, I hate it a lot less than my last gig, and yes I’m including” he waves at the door “whatever that is.

I started noticing things were weird around here pretty early. Props moved when no one was around, costumes left in weird places, dark figures in the background of shots that I swore weren’t there when filming, craft services serving tuna casserole twice a week. Really? Tuna casserole? It smells up the whole place every time. I figured most of it was probably just someone squatting somewhere in the studio. Just some homeless guy. Not my business.

Turns out it was a monster. Maybe more than one, I didn’t exactly stick around and check. It’s currently after hours, and I’m the only one in the building and the security guards are doing jack shit out in the lot, like usual. My only ways out, and in, are through the door I came in through and a ventilation duct. Contrary to what the movies tell you, I can neither fit in a duct nor can it support my weight. Lucky me, that means that thing out there definitely can’t get in that way either. So unless I want to try booking it out the door, my only option is to wait till daytime when everyone else is here and hope it can’t break through the door.

If I die, burn whatever that thing leaves behind and get really drunk. Devo, you still owe me 50 bucks and I will fucking haunt you until I get it. If I don’t die, I’m probably going to have to delete this in the morning.”

Greg sat in silence. Time passed, measured only by each prop cigarette he burned. Minutes turned to hours, interrupted by something occasionally ramming into the door at random intervals. Greg told whatever it was to go fuck itself every time before things went quiet again. It’s doubtful it took Greg’s suggestion.

Eventually the sound of people talking could be heard. Greg unlocked the door and popped his head out. He left the door open before turning and grabbing the camera.

“Well, time to go back to work.” He said before the camera turned off.

Short writing prompt:

You’re a cameraman who works for a major film studio. You got hired to work on a horror movie. You’ve noticed some odd things going around on set but you just wave it away as usual backstage crew shenanigans.

Little do you know those things you saw flit out of the corner of your eye and the creatures you thought were pieces from the special effects and prop departments are real.

The moment you realize that what you’ve seen is the actual monster from the horror film you’re contracted to work on, you run. Armed with your camera and your knowledge of the script, you go on a journey to escape this beast.

Why do you keep your camera instead of a weapon? That’s simple: the cameraman never dies.

2K notes · View notes

let-me-love-you-loki · 3 years ago

Text

Nowhere to Run--Ch. 50

Chapter 50

Jericho leaned against the wall inside the EVP locker room. The Bucks and Kenny were on the sofa against the wall, all three of them looking over at him with looks that mixed confusion and concern.

“It’s been over a month. Any idea when Kat might want to come in to have a meeting about bringing her back?” Kenny asked.

He sighed. “Probably not for a while.”

Matt groaned. “This backstage is falling apart without her. We can’t do this for much longer.”

“You’re going to have to do it for at least…” Jericho looked up, doing the math quickly in his head. “I don’t know… six months. Maybe seven.”

Nick’s brow furrowed. “What—” He stopped, grinning. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Jericho smiled back, happiness burning through him. He could feel it turning him inside out. His boys in the Inner Circle knew about Kat’s pregnancy, but they’d been sworn to secrecy as far as everyone else was concerned. It was so strange to him that it made him so happy to tell someone else—to share the news with people who cared about Kat. About him.

“Not at all,” Jericho replied. “She’s three months. We didn’t even know until a few weeks ago.”

Nick was the first one up from the sofa. He crossed the room and pulled Jericho into a back-thumping hug. “Congratulations!”

“Does Tony know?” Matt asked as he got up. “I’m assuming the boys do.”

He didn’t have to ask who Matt meant by that. “Kat told them about a week after we found out. She wanted to be the one to tell them.”

Nick made a face. “But she didn’t want to tell us? I’m hurt!”

“I’ll be sure to relay the message,” he laughed.

***

I sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. It was warm and soothed the swelling that had already started in my ankles. My head fell back, eyes closed as I let the sun wash over me. It was mid-afternoon in Jacksonville. Jericho had just left no long before to go to Daily’s Place. I had hours to kill before he would be back with the rest of the Inner Circle in tow.

The weeks had passed more quickly than I expected they would. Time moved in a lightspeed tempo that made me question what the next few months would bring. I settled my hand on my belly and let my fingers feel for that little bump that had already started to show. It was something new and strange. Something Jericho had been mesmerized with ever since I’d pointed it out to him. So many nights I’d fallen asleep with his head on my chest and his fingers brushing slow circles on my stomach.

The thought made me smile. He had been indulgent before, but the idea of becoming a father seemed to have changed so much. It was like I barely had to think of wanting something and he had already bought it or done it. There was something beautiful about the way that he seemed to take such wonderful care of me and now of the baby that was on the way.

My phone rang, and I reached back to grab it from the lounge chair. Nick Jackson’s name showed up on the screen. My heart picked up just a little in my chest as I answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kat,” he said with that happy voice of his. I could imagine him smiling on the other end. “I wanted to say congratulations. Chris just told us.”

I looked back up at the bright blue sky and sighed. “Of course he did,” I said teasingly. “Seriously, though. Thank you, Nick.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Fucking terrified.”

Nick laughed. “I know the feeling. Matt and I were a mess every time Sam was pregnant.”

“It’s barely started, and I don’t know what to expect. I’ve read the books and every blog I can find, but I still have no idea where to start. To even think to start.”

“There’s a lot of moms and dads around here, Kat. All you have to do is ask.”

***

Jericho walked down the hall with Santana and Ortiz, talking about the trios tag match they had later that night. Long weeks might have passed since Kat decided that staying with AEW wasn’t the best thing for her, but none of them had gotten used to how it felt to be without her. It had taken far longer than any of them wanted to admit to figure out how to manage themselves again.

“Even if she wanted to come back, it wouldn’t be for long,” Jericho said as the three of them stopped to let one of the seamstresses by with her rack of gear. “You know that with everything she does that she’d be put on light duty within a few weeks. And you know as well as I do that it would drive her insane.”

Santana sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll do all of lil’ mamí’s work if it means she’s back here. I miss that little firecracker of yours, Chris.”

He laughed. “I’ll tell her that. But I don’t know if it’ll make her cry or make her happy. She’s been a little… emotional.”

“I know all about that,” Santana said with a smirk. “When my girl was pregnant with mija, she was up one minute and down the next. Crying. Laughing. Some days… I couldn’t do anything right. I’d look at her the wrong way and she’d either scream at me or break down crying.”

Jericho nodded and started back down the hall, leading the way. “Is it normal for a woman to be…”

Santana’s smirk got bigger as he clapped his hand on Jericho’s shoulder. “Oh yeah. If you two weren’t fuckin’ before, you damn well will be now.”

“Haven’t you seen how exhausted I’ve been lately?” he shot back with a grin.

“Ata boy,” the younger man teased.

Jericho laughed before going slightly serious. “And it’s not just that. She’s absolutely beautiful lately. Her hair is so dark and soft. She’s glowing. All the time.”

Santana nods. “My girl… absolutely gorgeous. I swear, I wouldn’t mind if she was pregnant all the time. Enjoy it, Chris. All of it.”

***

I couldn’t stay awake no matter how hard I tried. My eyelids were heavier every second. As much as I wanted to watch the show, I didn’t have the energy. I knew that the Inner circle would want to come over to the hotel afterward. And I knew that once they got there, it would be hours before they would leave. Lately, they’d been staying and hanging out until two or three in the morning. As much as I missed them, it was becoming harder and harder for me to keep up the further along in my pregnancy I got.

The sound of my ringtone woke me up. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in our suite, the TV playing the tail end of the show quietly. Jericho’s face lit up the screen. I stifled a yawn as I answered.

“Hey,” I said, surprised at the thick sound of sleep in my voice.

“Kat, you sound exhausted.” Jericho’s words were gilded with an edge of worry. I heard shouting and noise in the background. It was easy to make out Sammy’s voice from the cacophony. “I’m not bringing the boys over there tonight. You need to sleep.”

“Chris, I want—”

“I know what you want, Katarina,” he cut in. There was an authority in his voice that I rarely heard outside of the Playroom. “But I’m putting my foot down this time. I never thought I’d say this to you. No.”

For a second, I was legitimately stunned into silence. Ever since that moment in my hotel room all those months ago—when he’d looked me in the eye and told me that I should be taken care of—there hadn’t been a single thing that I’d asked Jericho for that I hadn’t gotten. To be fair, most of my requests revolved around his time and attention, but my brain suddenly shouted that all of that was beside the point.

“Excuse me?” I sputtered after a moment.

The sounds in the background of the call seemed to fade a little. He must have walked away from the others. “You heard me, Kat. I said no. You need to rest. I’ll fly the boys down to Tampa this weekend if you want. They can all stay at the house with us, but tonight you need to rest.”

I sighed and sank into the sofa, simultaneously angry and relieved. As much as the thought of going back to Daily’s Place made my heart race with terror, I hated being in the same town as the rest of the Inner Circle and not being able to see them. I’d spent a year and a half of my life being with them, being responsible for them, taking care of them. It didn’t feel right.

“Chris, you can’t…”

“Yes, I can,” he said, a dark thread beneath his voice that made me shiver. “And I am. I said no, and there’s no talking me out of it. They’re not coming back to the room with me. That’s final.”

I stood up, my heart rushing a little behind my ribs. For a moment, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. Before I could take a breath, I’d plopped right back down on the sofa. I let out an oof of noise and put my hand over my heart. It was racing so hard in my chest.

“Chris…” I huffed, surprised to find that it was hard to breathe. “Chris…”

His voice came out worried and tinged with panic. “Kat? Kat!” All the noise in the background faded away. “What’s going on? What is it?”

“Just got dizzy. That’s all.” I took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm my racing heart. “I’m okay.”

“I’m coming back. Right now.” I could hear him running down the back hallways of Daily’s Place. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. If you get dizzy again, call 911.”

I sighed. “It’s nothing. Honestly, I just got dizzy. It’s okay.” But I knew there was no arguing with him. “Be careful. Please?”

***

Jericho was in a panic the likes of which he hadn’t felt before. He could imagine a thousand different things that could go wrong. Fear laced through him at the idea that he could walk into their suite and find her on the floor. Passed out. Bleeding. Not breathing. The terror was almost more than he could take.

Almost there, sweetheart. I’m almost there. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was sure he was having a heart attack. It wouldn’t surprise him if he passed out himself and ran the SUV off the road. It felt like the drive between the arena and the hotel tripled in distance. As if he’d never get there.

The tires squealed as he skidded into a spot in the parking lot of the hotel. He couldn’t catch his breath as he burst through the door and took the stairs three at a time. There was no waiting for the elevator. He was petrified that he was going to be too late. For what, he didn’t know. Jericho felt the vomit crawling up the back of his throat as he practically ran down the hallway to the suite.

His hand was shaking so hard that it was hard to get the keycard into the door. When he finally did, he expected the worst. He was certain that he was going to find her in the worst of ways.

Instead, he found her cross-legged on the sofa with a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. Jericho sagged against the wall, a breath rushing out of him so fast that his head started spinning.

She looked up, her hair falling over one shoulder and those eyes bright green and shimmering. A smile slipped over her face when she saw him. “Hi,” she said, something soft in her eyes.

He felt his heart settle into its normal rhythm. “Jesus Fucking Christ,” he said as he raced across the room, yanked the ice cream from her hand, and pulled her up against his chest. He hugged her as tightly as he could, his lips settled against her forehead. “You scared the ever living shit out of me, Kat.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. “I’m sorry. It was gone almost as soon as it happened, but you wouldn’t listen. I promise that I’m okay.”

Jericho cradled her skull in his hand. “The moment we get home, we’re making an appointment with your doctor. Full checkup. For both of you.”

He heard her sigh. For a moment, he thought she was going to argue. “Yes, Mr. Jericho,” she whispered, a soft sort of teasing in her voice.

___________

Tag List

@lilred91

@mariejr88-blog

@thenerdybaker523

@mrsmatt

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@ryantaylorgirl

@daddyslittlevillain

@Rdhester1987

@rollynchwhore

#nowhere to run #chris jericho #chris jericho fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #inner circle #inner circle fanfiction #ofc #oc #kat prince #katarina prince #chris x kat #may/december romance #multi-chapter

31 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark. And hoo boy, did I run with that. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness. Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having. Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide.

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head. It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in. He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like. He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head. “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy. He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class. But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe? I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted. Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully. “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately. She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50? He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers. You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself. If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop. He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything. “I… we have comp together? You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up. “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop. “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?”

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him. “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--”

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work. “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least. Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit. “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned. “Like basic functions on matrices! Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices. If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed. You hadn’t really meant it literally.

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged. It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math. You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once. He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked. And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before. This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator. This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop. He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace. Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears. A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right? Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going? It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down. God, he was strong. He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular. You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit. Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly. It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really. You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way! It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming. You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point. But at this point, it was unstoppable. You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet. Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs. But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell. Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds. You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore. Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more. You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black. “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire. “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open. It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls. You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you? You love my cock,” he growled. His voice was lower, gravelly. He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn. “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience. You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it. But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal. God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess. Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly. “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh? You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that? You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell. Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You asked me to fuck you. Begged me. Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words. You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed. “But, maybe you’re not playing. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could. “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet. Isn’t that right? You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before. Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs. Your toes went numb. You didn’t even know that could happen. And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.” You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to. You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you. For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before. It was comforting, but you were still a little confused. “Really?”

He laughed softly. “Did you not notice? God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky. You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math. Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now? Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table. He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification. You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow. It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow. No assignments due today, either. And what was with the row/seat thing? Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification. It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message. “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name. You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned. Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him? How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation. Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pictures now? I did what you asked. I won’t tell anyone. just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick. You had no idea what this meant but it scared you. You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense. You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie. But she wasn’t alone. She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was. You realized why now. She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade. You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material. It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it. You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there. But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages. Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14. 45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera. PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8. 12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups. ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5. 6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror. PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2. 14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop. It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13. 1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently. Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin. “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work. “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend. What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything. They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it. Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged. “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific. You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl. You even had pretty good security, I respect that. Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop. It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it. Including yourself.”

You shivered. “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself. And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job. You watch some interesting stuff. And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please. This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little. “You look better in person though. A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what? I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised. “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick. But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you. Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders. Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation. Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button. He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are. Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #dark!peter parker #dom peter parker x sub reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x sub reader #spiderman x reader #night monkey x reader #lmao #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #sabs dream fic challenge

3K notes · View notes

catboy-otacon · 3 years ago

Text

I remember my dogs. 50 pure sled-pulling huskies. Not all Siberians, mind you. If it was of northern breed and pulled my sled, that dog was a husky. I didn't need all fifty of them all the time. Feeding that many dogs off of my food storage through winter would have been insane. I kept twelve or so of my dogs at my cabin and rotated them every so often from the kennel in Nondalton. Diz was my favorite. I know, it seems like picking a favorite child, but she was as smart as a whip, never stubborn, and a great team leader. Real pretty brown coat, too. I never got to run the Iditarod like I wanted, but if I had, Diz would have been there with me. I'd take Rico and Stark too, but they were always jealous when Diz was leading and make a fuss in the traces. They switched out with her or the other of the two when I rotated the dogs. The two folks who ran the kennel knew me and my dogs well, I wouldn't trust anybody else with them. John and Tracy. They knew Buck was a picky eater but a strong wheeler. They could pick out Diz from Lady despite the only difference being their demeanors, different shades of brown in their eyes, and Diz being a little taller. They knew each and every one. I knew they'd keep good care of those dogs. I don't have the dogs anymore. We don't have any need for them, running across the country in throwaway cars. We don't have to mush forty, fifty miles to pick up supplies. The long asphalt roads are nothing like the hard packed snow. I could imagine them here with me now, but they wouldn't be real. I wouldn't be able to stand a fake of any of my dogs. They were the best sled team you could have. Each and every one of them was important. Despite living alone for years up there, it wasn't lonely. The dogs kept me from getting cabin fever. I swear, some of them could practically talk. People in books, too, kept it from feeling like isolation. Besides, you can read a book enough times you know what they're going to say every time. Live people are unpredictable. Lying, cheating, hurting, feeling. I've done my fair share of it, sure. It's only human. When you learn to live in books, people are alien. Not being sure of what they'll say next, if they're telling the truth, it's different. They don't follow scripts. Probably why I'm a little stilted these days. Why I quip so much with unfamiliar people. Putting my introspection to words was never my strong suit. He was the first person in a while to catch me off guard. His utter genuine nature, saying how he feels, and so inquisitive about everything. His damn laugh, its the best sound in the world. There’s nothing more genuine than his laugh. It was all pretty cute. Besides, the guy's a twig and if he had a mean bone in his body I could break it pretty easily. [He laughs] He loves dogs. I wish I could show him Diz. She would’ve be a pretty little girl for him. I'd teach her tricks just for him and let her sleep inside the cabin if he asked. Despite everything, he's got me wrapped around his finger. I don't really care, the reason he can get me wound around him is I know he'd never hurt me. He's real. Honest, and good. Anyway. The heat here is beating me to death with the humidity. I miss the cool days in Alaska. Up north it was a rarity when it hit the 80s and 90s. The night sky was so beautiful, too. We have less light pollution here on these slip roads than in the cities, but it still is nothing compared to Alaska's sky. I remember- this wasn’t too long ago- we stepped outside the car on a long ride because there was a meteor shower. Falling stars. We hopped up on some property’s fence and just took some time to watch them. We didn't make any wishes, we were too busy taking it all in. But I know it pales in comparison to the showers up north. It's so beautiful there, I wish I could show him the real deal. We could take a night out into the woods of Twin Lakes, pretend to be hunters passing through, no one the wiser we were outlaws. I'd call the dogs up into a huddle, and we could lie down right in the middle, looking at the sky. I could point out stars, and he'd take them to heart. They'd keep us warm, and press their bodies against us. Their breath freezing in the air and collecting as frost on their bodies. The sky would be cloudless and breathtaking. He would be beautiful.

22 notes · View notes

liesoverthec · 4 years ago

Note

I don't know if you've paid any attention to this but do you know the official ages of the main characters? You've always paid attention to little details so i feel like you'd be the right person to ask this to.

Hi anon! ❤️ I’m SO SO sorry this took so long!

I appreciate you thinking of me for this - I have in fact paid attention to this 😂 I know about the general age of some characters, and I know within a year of others (depending on when their birthday is they may have aged up already!)

Bobby - 54. He says in the pilot that he’s 50 years old, and so you figure he’s at least 54 by now, if not 55 if his birthday was between January (when the pilot aired) and now!

Athena - mid 50s. In Athena Begins, I feel like it’s safe to assume she’s around 22 or 23, since she’s in law school but not close to finishing (and I really don’t think she took a gap year), and that was 1989, so she was *probably* born around 1966-67. Which would put her around 54-55 right now, which fits with how old Bobby is!

Hen - 41. She says in Future Tense that she joined med school at 40 (if she’s not rounding for dramatics). Since she got into med school last year in the s3 finale, I’d say 41 now. If she did just say 40 bc it was easy, I’d still say she’s between 39-42 now, bc she’d have to be close in age to 40 to round so automatically like that imo. But at this point I’m going with a simple 41.

Chim - Late 30s to early, early 40s. Chim is one of the two I really don’t have a good idea on. Chimney Begins is set in 2005, and he’s at least 21, since we see him drinking beer in that episode. So he was born sometime before 1984, which would make him 36 right now if he was exactly 21 then, but I think he’s a little older than that, since he’s been working in the bar for a while before the fire. I can’t remember any other details that would give him a more specific age, so if someone does and can provide them I would love to add them! Personally I’d say 39-40, bc I think he’s a little older than Maddie but not by much. I can say however that he has a March birthday! EDIT - thanks to the wonderful @shannon-diaz who remembered that we see Chim’s birthday on his license in 2x10 (you can see the pic provided in the notes!) HOWEVER! I want to make a disclaimer (which I would like to emphasize is not me trying to argue against the lovely Ann at all, she’s absolutely right about this, I just wanna say this) - they have already been changing Chim’s birthday since then, since the license says 10/20/1977 and they’ve since moved his birthday to March. So it’s absolutely possible that they’ve decided to change his age as well. BUT! At the point this was shown, they’d already committed to Madney becoming a thing, so it’s likely they thought about how old Maddie and Chim were in relation to one another. What I don’t know is if they thought about Maddie’s age before then, or if they put it off until they had to during the Daniel arc. All of this is to say - right now, as of end of s4, the best info we have says Chim is 44. But I could also absolutely see the writers pulling a switcharoo on the poor props crew and changing his age, since they’ve already discarded the birth date. So I say, go forth and know that Chim is 44! But also please don’t get mad at me if that information changes in the future 😂

Buck - 29. During the entire Buck Begins arc, they say multiple times that the family has been hiding a secret from him for 29 years, etc etc. In the Valentine’s Day ep in s1, Abby says Buck is 26. And in Kids Today (the opener to s3) Maddie specifically mentions he’s 28. So I’m most sure about Buck, out of everyone, esp since Oliver himself is 29. I think he’s the character where they’re sticking closest to the actor’s actual age.

Maddie - around 37. We know Maddie was 9 when Daniel died (Chim says she made the promise to not talk about Daniel when she was 9). Since Daniel died a little over a year after Buck was born, that puts Maddie around 8 at the time Buck was born, making her 37 to Buck’s 29 as of right now. Also, in ep 4 of s4, her mom mentions her being a “high risk pregnancy” since she’s over 35, but specifically does not say she’s over 40. So 37 or 38 for her. (Side note - Maddie is older than Daniel by between 1.5 to 2 years, since she says Daniel died when he was 7.) like I said, I’m most positive about Buck’s age but Maddie’s is a close second.

Eddie - early 30s? I also have no idea about him. My personal best guess would be 33, since that’s how old Ryan Guzman is now, and they’ve never in my recollection said anything to indicate a different age for him! (Same thing here as goes for Chim - if anyone can remember something let me know!) Note - I’ve been thinking on this a while and I actually feel pretty good about 31-33. We know Chris was born in 2011, so he’s turning 10 sometime soon, and that would make Eddie somewhere between 21-23 when he was born, which I feel fits with a timeline of him taking time to work with his dad after high school, and then joining the army, doing basic, and getting deployed all in time to get leave for Christopher’s birth.

And there’s all 7 mains! I’m going to link this in a bullet point in the next character details post, so if anyone wants to add information for Chim or Eddie (preferably with an episode number and/or scene so that I can verify it), I’ll edit this post and give you credit, so that way when I link this post, people will be able to see it all in one place, and the edits w credit will be in the tag for everyone to see!

Also all of these ages are as of right now, end of s4. If you want to write future fic or fic for a past season you’ll want to add or subtract years accordingly!

Thanks for the question, anon - putting together the “age puzzle” is like my favorite kind of challenge!

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

#b discusses character details #911 fox #asked and answered #anon answer time #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #chimney han #maddie buckley #evan buckley#eddie diaz #I’m p sure there isn’t anything else to add to Chim or eddie #and honestly w any of them #I wouldn’t put it past the show to suddenly change their ages to be whatever the writers need #so I’m gonna clarify #THESE ARE THEIR AGES AS FAR AS I KNOW AS OF RN JUNE 5 2021 #if they change them in the future I’m sorry I was just going off the info I had right here right now #anyways lots of love!

217 notes · View notes