#in my own defence i got a new job in a new country so i have been trying to adjust my life
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if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??
She doesn’t like cars
{Reader’s POV}
I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.
I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing milk at the grocery store when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” he quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.
We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.
We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby, I know this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with more races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.
Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver?” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?
Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.
My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco; I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.
“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you are, now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss
#gguk-n#ask request#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#f1 fluff#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fluff#formula one fluff#formula one fanfiction#formula one fic#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 imagine
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ive had this thought for ages about jason dating a southern girl/guy/person
Thoughts?
YES ANON OH YES I HAVE
I’m not southern in an american context (which i assume this ask is in) but I am very much southern in a Canadian context (which, in ontario, is pretty similar)
I’m thinking of this as also a from the countryside! type of reader headcanons…
Here are my thoughts…
(This is gn!reader btw)
So for whatever reason, you end up moving to Gotham City. Whether for school or a new life or a new job opening.
Rent is cheap, but you’re thinking you may need to put yourself into self defence classes.
Lots of pros and cons.
Luckily!! One pro is your new boyfriend!!
I really don’t believe Jason would date anyone unless he had known them and been friends with them first (demiromantic!jason truther right here)
ANYWAYS
Jason being a little shocked at the idea that you used to have to drive 30+ minutes to get to the grocery store before you moved to Gotham
Jason getting HEART ATTACKS because you’re way too busy staring up at all the buildings in awe while walking, too busy to be looking for highly possible dangers up ahead
“That’s so huge!! Look at all the windows at that one!”
“Please tell me you don’t do this when I’m not here guiding you.”
Later in your relationship, if you’re not afraid of heights, and he knows no one will see y’all, he takes you to the top of wayne enterprises to see all of gotham
One time during patrol, he catches sight of you walking back from one of your outings.
He’s not stalking… he’s making sure his partner is getting home safe!
He watches you wait for a crosswalk when there isn’t a single car around and finds it adorable.
Like… just cross. It gets you home faster and out of danger.
He finds your differences in growing up fascinating,
He was in alleyways, broken down buildings, only got to properly see the sun once in a blue moon when the clouds were gone and it was just at the right angle.
You grew up always in the sun, able to see the stars at night in such clarity, had the choice of seeing the sunrise AND sunset every day.
Please take Jason to the country on a clear summer night so this boy can look at the stars with you PLEASE
I was going to comment on accents, but Jason has no say against yours
I’ve always imagined him with the THICKEST new jersey accent, distinctly something that people associate with Gotham (or at least the poorer people of gotham)
He’s trained it away, but it comes back when tired, pissed off, distracted, saying something familiar, etc. (it happens to me at the best of times with that canadian accent😞 i catch myself off guard sometimes)
If he comments on your southern accent, you have FULL authority to bring up the one time he woke up at your place talking about a “cuppo CAUWfee” (cup of coffee)
Feel free to add on to this with your own hcs in the reblogs!!
This is kinda messy my bad
❤️- Missy
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#jason todd hc#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd fic#jason todd x m!reader#jason todd x gn!reader#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood x gn!reader#red hood x m!reader#red hood fic#dc#dc fic#ask missy#jason todd ask
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Would love to know if everyone else is constantly flip flopping between ok they will absolutely get together to if they haven't by now after a tour like that, they never will and they must have their reasons?! It's driving me insane, I don't know how people have coped since the days of Jade, I'm only a few months in and already need them to sort their shit out!
Like I was fully optimistic the other day thinking it was plausible that Nic was wearing Lukes "drink milk" shirt with the half turned up sleeve (what has my life become!) and she looked so happy and she was posting more again on sm, knowing everyone would over analyse everything so I thought maybe things were taking a turn for the positive!
Now I'm reading the X rumours he's been spotted in some other country and people speculating its Cyrpus with A visiting her family. Could be absolute nonsense but the fact DM rehashed her old podcast about them, it would follow that we will get bombarded with clues now of where they are together from A. If they are on a holiday just the 2 of them, that kind of throws a lot of my theories out the window where I thought he would want to be distancing himself from A now in order to make a go of things with Nic.
But then I remember there has to be something more than friends between N & L or else I think Nic would have come to Lukes defence in a much stronger way after the pap walk given the backlash he got after it. I think if it had been all PR playing into their natural chemistry, Nic wouldn't have let him take the heat on his own as there was two of them in it and it would have been their game plan from the start, even with A being on the scene. Nic is very SM savvy and with their PR teams I'm sure they could have figured something to minimise the impact even though they would both then of got it in the neck for gaslighting everyone, at least it would have been done and everyone would have moved on by now! Instead, they both disappeared from SM and ignored it all because they couldn't refute what everyone saw because they are in love and didn't want to lie!!
So then I'm back to their absolutely has to be more to their story and the cycle just continues everytime something with A or JD crops up and I'm like, what are they all doing!!!
Same anon, same.
It's been quite the 🎢 on this 🚢, BUT I've been feeling more optimistic in general about L/N lately, and I think this is what's been helping me stay positive and level-headed in the midst of all the noise:
I literally don't listen to ANY of the rumors until I have receipts/proof. If I don't have this, then I just consider the rumor to be BS. This has been helping me soooo much! Although, I still spiral every once in a while 😅
I think we had soooo much content of L/N for MONTHS, that I think we all are kind of going through "withdrawals" (for lack of a better word), especially for those of us that are new to the ship, and are therefore hyperanalyzing EVERYTHING related to L and N. I keep reminding myself that it is normal for L/N to not put out a lot of content of each other in the in-between periods of Bridgerton. I also remind myself we have NO idea 100% what's going on with them BTS until we get more public confirmation (which we may or may not get).
Lastly, like you mentioned anon, I feel like if NOTHING had been going on between L/N during the PR tour, they would have publicly shut down the rumors, ESPECIALLY if L was really in a serious relationship with A. However, other than that one story N posted right after Papgate calling L a great "friend", they didn't really solidly come out and clarify that what we saw wasn't more than just PR. Why?? Because it wasn't, and like you mentioned anon, they couldn't refute that. I think a lot of things about them came out publicly that they weren't exactly ready for the public to know, so they TRIED to hide behind their characters on the tour (they didn't do a super good job with that imo, but I think that's because this was a HUGE deal for them and they were HAPPY and having a hard time hiding it 😍). So they had to correct for that, which resulted in a lot of what we saw between L/N/A after the London premiere. I've talked about my thoughts on all this in my "timelines" posts, so please refer to those if you would like to know more of my thoughts on all that. HOWEVER, I think we have gotten QUITE A FEW Easter Eggs the last few days, from N especially, that hint that things are moving in a positive direction with these two 👀 I'll talk about my thoughts on that sometime tonight...
#this 🚢 definitely hasn't been all smooth sailing#however#I think the destination MIGHT be coming up sooner than we thought 👀👀
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The Lost Swan - Chapter 27
Prev chapter | New chapter Prologue
/At first I thought this was going to be the final chapter but it got too long so the next post will be the final chapter itself. I promise you.
Enjoy reading!/
Mentions of: Violence and blood
Blood and saliva spilled on the floor when Krauser keeled over in his chair, coughing out as much as he could. His interrogator, Dexter, dropped the knuckle duster back on the table and massaged his knuckles and the muscles of his thumbs to ease out the cramps. He was tied to the furniture- his wrists, his waist, and his legs. Rope was futile for his strength and size so they resorted to tying him down with chains.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Krauser.” Dexter said with a heavy sigh. “Confess what you’re actually doing and the boss will change his mind in executing you. He really does enjoy the great work you’ve done here for him. For us.” Whether he was genuine or sugar coating his words, he needed Krauser’s confession so he could report it to his boss within today. If only his boss was here to see through the interrogation as well, but alas, he’s in a different country at the moment. The mercenary’s body was littered with fresh bruises, cuts, and blood from the interrogation. It’s been two hours but Krauser showed no signs of giving in easily.
Krauser spitted out blood and it nearly hit his shoe, unintentionally or not. “That’s my job isn’t it? Improve your defences.” Talking hurts his jaw even as the plaga is doing their job healing it quickly. Blood was trailing down his nose too, seeping into his mouth to taste the coppery taste.
“And our security.” Dexter’s nose wrinkled from the saliva that could have hit his shoe. It was bought recently with his bonus and he doesn’t want anything to ruin them. What a poor decision to wear them today for this occasion.
Krauser lifted his head, the pain throbbing on his face, catching a glimpse at the glowing red dot at the camera at the corner. He once again spit out the blood and saliva, and this time to the side, and wrinkled his nose to breathe properly once it was healed up nicely. “Sounds about right.” If only there was a clock in this room. That way he can count how long it would take for the events to happen. It should have happened during his interrogation. “You’re a smart man there, private. You have sharp eyes too. Always making sure everything was in place, in order, nothing stolen.” Icy blue eyes flickered to his interrogator’s eyes. “Why else am I here beaten black and blue for simply being in the data room?”
“Who hired you to steal our information?” He asked Krauser, slamming his hands onto the unoccupied space of the armrests, his tone low and heavy. “You and very few people other than myself and the boss knew what kind of data we’ve collected. What we’ve been doing. Tell me who and-”
Screams can be heard reverberating through the closed door. Or was that coming from upstairs? Dexter straightened himself and spun at the door. His brow furrowed in confusion and possibly in horror. There can’t be an outbreak in their fortress. No, the special forces? He heard Krauser letting out a pained chuckle. “I’m not here to steal the information.” He finally confessed. “I’m here to collect it back. Information you stole from a very particular person right under his nose, gave them to your boss to ensure you’re not discovered, and in return allowed him to let you work for him and help develop his own creations from them. Umbrella’s plans are proven useless now that they are cracking down on the bioweapons from other ‘resources’, but R.A.S’s information is still valuable. Something his scientists are loving to try on to understand genetic alterations.”
It was impossible for anyone to know what he did. He even killed his own crew to ensure no one would rat him out or tell anyone outside from their team who could be snitches. Gunshots were heard as well. While Krauser remained calm from what he’s hearing, it didn’t allow his interrogator to feel the same way, forcing himself to be armed with his gun.
“While it is my job to ensure no one trespasses the fortress, you have to remember that I’m the only one who did everything to improve your defences.” When he formed a cruel grin on his face, blood stained his teeth. “But I wasn’t the only one who created the plans and layouts.”
“You were never working alone.” Realisation set in for the poor man. “Who is your partner? Tell me now!” The gun gripped tighter in his hands when screams and gunshots grew louder and all of the sudden it was abruptly silenced off. “Who is it?”
A knock was made at the door. Hard and heavy due to the door being metal.
“The one you should fear more than me. The reason why we’re here in the first place.”
The door handle was tested to see if it was locked, and it was. Someone started trying to kick the door down madly. The gun was immediately pointed at the door if the attacker managed to break it somehow. Normally Dexter was level headed and had a plan, he was a soldier for R.A.S. after all, but when it comes to his life after hearing bloody murder going on outside, he starts to fire blindly at the door, hoping the bullets will pierce through the metal. The kicking ceased but they can see small bumps were created.
“Who is it?” He whispered. “You’re always a lone wolf.”
Krauser dragged his tongue across his teeth to taste more of his blood and mostly to clean his teeth free of it. “I still am. But with her,” a cruel grin formed on his face right as something thin and sharp cut through the lock, “it’s a package deal.”
“Her?” His voice failed to keep it levelled, coming to a hushed shook. “It can’t be…” The door opened and the interrogator fired without a second thought towards the head. The bullets hit no head at all.
Krauser let out a deep dark chuckle as he watched the colour drain away on the other man's face and horror stricken to be reunited with his fear herself. Dullahan’s body entered the room wielding her axe stained with blood.
“The Headless Horseman.”
– – –
Dullahan gently pressed her fingers around the black eye on Krauser’s left eye and he let out a low grunt from the pain. “You need to keep applying the ice if you want this to go away faster.” “Is that all you’re going to check, dollface?” Despite the cut on his bottom lip, he still gave a smirk at her. The cuts on his body were gone but not the bruises. Her hands smoothed over his muscled figure like a sculptor while being careful without inflicting anymore pain to her husband.
“Would be nice if you could wear a nurse’s outfit while you treat them.”
“We’re still on the job, darling.” She reminded him, grabbing the heat gel to apply over his injuries and his sore muscles. “When this is all over and we can go back home, I’ll make sure you receive the same kind of care you’ve given me in the past. Yes I’ll wear the silly costume too.” After applying the gel she gave him a quick peck on the lips right as his smirk grew wider. “Lucky me.”
It was great seeing her back in action and back to her usual self before the incident. Krauser was pleased to see the result after months of training her back to her prime self. He helped her get stronger, faster, and possibly deadlier than what R.A.S has done to her, basically perfecting what she was created to be, all done without the abuse spewed in her face, the isolation from human contact, and not straining her to the point of her limbs falling off. He was patient with her, pushing her to the limit unless so, and more importantly, he cared for her wellbeing. Even when she returns to her former self as the cold-hearted hitman and makes sure nothing will happen to her again, he will always watch her back and be her guard.
For Dullahan, it was a long and tiring process to return to where she once was. So much self-doubt, so much fear and anxiety for what Dr. Rowland had done to reprogram her and mould her into a completely different person, she always felt like she’s not herself anymore and she can’t bear the thought of it. But no matter what, Krauser was always there to keep her grounded, to help her back on her feet, and despite the hardship she had gone through while carrying the doubts that she was troubling him, she was forever glad to have him by her side. There are times her mind has slipped off and those nights waking up in cold sweat from nightmares, Krauser was there to pull her out and calm her down.
During her year of recovery, people have wondered what happened to Dullahan if she had gone into hiding, or perhaps she was killed and buried without announcing her death to show their victory in killing a legend. Let her body rot and she becomes a distant memory to haunt them in passing stories. When word spread of Dr. Rowland’s death in the underground world, there was word that she was there and she was the one who killed him. Worse, she ate him. It became a warning for anyone who dared cross her line and become the next ‘Rat’ as the deceased Dr. Rowland was. But alas, no one knew where she went for the whole year after the incident and talks about her had died down after five months.
Until a few months ago there was a sighting of The Horseman back in action.
Krauser ran his hands upwards from her hips to the torso to feel the warmth of her skin. He indirectly pushed up the hem of her turtleneck crop top high enough for his fingers to brush against the divot scar of the bullet wound. The very scar that led her to call him on that fateful day and one of the few scars that her body couldn’t heal or close up. Dullahan placed her hands on his wrists, stopping him from going further and from trying to touch her chest where a scar of the stabbing should be. She was glad there’s no scar to it, not wanting to look at it and be reminded of what Dr. Rowland did.
“That’s enough, Jackie. You’ve done your part for this mission.” She said gently. “You did a good job distracting Dexter while I collected everything I needed to find our next target and destroy the labs underground.” She leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead, tender and loving. “Rest now while I continue my end.”
She turned to leave but Krauser grabbed her robotic hand. It was a new design but retained the same features such as the claws and the hidden blade in her forearm. It was still black now with a dark blue metallic shade serving as an accent under the plating. Courtesy from her organisation giving her a new limb when she accepted her job back. His hand curled around the wrist and tugged her closer, wedging her between his legs. Her hands cupped his face, carefully thumbing over the bruise on his cheek.
“I’m joining you, Trish.” He said and was met with a weary look. “I won’t do anything this time. I’ll stand back and watch you work.” Her lips were pulled into a thin line and she soon let out a sigh. “Do you need help wearing pants?” “I can do it. Go on, I’ll meet you there. Wouldn’t want to miss any good parts.” His hands cupped her butt and gave them a firm squeeze before she pulled away.
“Honestly you.” She said and he simply chuckled.
In the next room, Dexter was hung from the ceiling by the arms, his feet dangling off from the floor, and he was sporting a larger blackeye than Krauser’s.
As Krauser promised, he stood back by leaning against the wall with his arms crossed against his bare chest. Dullahan took her place and tilted his head up with her left hand to meet his gaze. Dexter’s glazed look switched to fear by the sight of her face and jerked his head back only for her to grab his jaw tighter, and she squeezed his face with her claws out. He whimpered to the pain.
“Come now, darling. I won’t hurt you anymore. Think of it as payback for hurting my partner behind me. When I let go, will you be a good boy?”
He nodded his head.
“I need a verbal answer.”
“Yes…Yes ma’am.” Dexter nearly faltered in his words, almost embarrassed to address his former superior. Despite it, the pain from her claws subdued and she gently patted his cheek. “Good boy.” She went to pick up the fallen chair Dexter kicked down earlier on and looked at Krauser. “Let him down. Gently.” Krauser gave a grunt but he obeyed her.
Robotic and organic hands rested on Dexter’s shoulders as she stood behind him, feeling him stiffened up, and one of them patted his head. “As much as I want to bring up good old memories of our time back at R.A.S, sadly we’re in a time crunch here. I know you defected from Vonner for this new boss of yours, but I can see you’re loyal to this one. Only reason he’s been good to you was what you provided to save your ass.” She slowly twirled her hand in Krauser’s direction and Krauser slowly pulled the rope, pulling the former soldier up. “But then again, what would happen if he knew he’s not the only one you’ve given R.A.S’s information to, non? The research data wasn’t the only thing you stole from Vonner.”
“Detailed reports on experiments he has done post massacre in return for government protection.” Krauser said. “It’s not enough for them so you must be probing for time until your boss is successful with his results. Steal from him too and get the protection you need. Maybe more if you’re the greedy type.”
“I can give them to you instead.” Dexter said. “New reports, his results, everything you can ask for. All I ask if you let me live. I know what’s been happening to the scientists and anyone who survived R.A.S over the years. I heard what happened to Rowland last year and I knew it was you who did it. I can also give you a complete list of the survivors too.” He stopped to breathe when he realised he'd been talking non-stop without taking a breath. Dullahan stopped him from continuing with the squeeze on his shoulders. Five years have hardened him but his fear of the woman never faded away. A squeak was made and Dullahan chuckled softly. Slowly.
“Tempting offer, love.” She said with a soft hum. “But I don’t want any of them as they give me nothing but annoyance. What if, oh what if, if they knew of your treason…” She stopped and hummed again. Krauser was smirking at him to the point of showing his canines. Dexter’s heart was hammering against his ribcage and his voice shuddered.
“What if…?” He had to ask. He tried to look over his shoulder to see her and when he looked up, she was simply smiling at him. No warmth, no coldness, a smile that bears no emotions. As he remembered long ago.
“What if they decided to experiment on you to test their latest result. R.A.S soldiers are a scientist's favourite guinea pig. I saw what Rowland did to Tristan, Roland, and a number of men who followed him to his grave. What would happen if your boss did that to you? Became like me. Like them.”
“No…” Dexter shook his head and Krauser chuckled. “Being a monster isn’t bad. It has some perks, nothing to be ashamed of.” “I don’t want to become a freak like her!” He snapped at the mercenary and it was enough for Krauser to pull away from the wall and march at the bound man. He took the knife out and swung it down hard. Dexter screwed his eyes shut and screamed.
The knife was stabbed between his legs and Dullahan let out a cackle. He wasted no time in wrapping his hand around his former interrogator’s neck and squeezed it. Hard. “Watch your tongue or else I’ll cut it out. Now apologise.”
It was hard to speak with his air cutting off and Krauser’s strong grip preventing him from speaking properly.
“Krauser, that’s enough. The poor man has gone through enough abuse from us by now.” She finally calmed down from her laughing and placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, smoothing it down to his muscled forearm. “I think it’s time he proves his worth to us.” While the grip weakened, the hand still stayed, and Krauser eyed her from the side. “You sure, Dull?” “Of course. Now let him go before he becomes dead weight.”
So he did and Dexter gulped in fresh air for his poor lungs. “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll make sure to prove myself to you. Name anything you need and I’ll do it.” He took in Krauser’s stoic expression who stepped away after pulling his knife out and proceeded to unchain him from his bonds. Dexter couldn’t help but smile at Dullahan, who stepped into his view, awaiting for his mission like the good soldier he was.
She returned the smile back to him and placed a gun on his lap. His gun.
#Jack Krauser#Dullahan#Krauser/Dullahan#Hatter's writing#The Lost Swan#Jack Krauser X OC#Krauser X OC#Resident Evil Krauser
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i finally caught up with andor and holy kriff. the quality of this show is off the chart god damn
#yeah i'm a fake fan jvdfnvkdvndb#in my own defence i got a new job in a new country so i have been trying to adjust my life#also i was still on the hotd high juice + wednesday releases are the worse thing that happened to star wars imo#but anyway what a show!!!!!!#weirdly enough i think that this shows benefit if you binge watch the episodes per 3#like ep 1/2/3 were great together#ep 4/5/6 too#i feel like 7/8/9 will be paired well too
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I got a couple asks about my reply to an ask where I said that I acknowledge cop propaganda in procedural’s, and believe that everyone falls for it, while still acknowledging that I have enjoyed those shows. More than one ask said they are fully aware of the propaganda and so they can still watch those said shows, this is something I want to expand on because No one is above falling for propaganda.
I have loved and watched cop shows since I was 12, and I also have studied propaganda academically for half a decade, and that is why I can say with certainty you have internalized and fallen for propaganda within cop shows.
It is important to note that cop shows are designed with the aid of professional police for this exact purpose, they are insanely important to the normalization of behaviours of police, and justifying their actions, because you as an audience emotionally connect with the characters.
There are many things that have circulated around tumblr that have acknowledged certain forms of propaganda - the continuous use of violence, in a way that claims that the police must in many cases resort to violence, Trevor Noah did a great small clip showing how many cop shows do this. On top of that the villainization of internal affairs and the entire defence system, claiming public defenders are moronic and don’t defend their clients well, which in turn makes people afraid to turn to public defenders, which in turn results in people not asking for a lawyer, and at the same time paint defence attorneys as evil as well, and an impediment to justice which makes people dislike lawyers in general.
These are all important functions of the propaganda system as it justifies many actions of cops, but there are so many layers of propaganda, with hundreds of cop shows, all with police consultants, all employing underhanded tactics and specific messaging impacts you, below is a small list of things I either personally have internalized or know people have internalized. In brackets I mention just a couple shows I have seen this on, keep in mind many shows do this and they all tend to overlap
1. We as a society all agree that murder is wrong, but how many times in a cop show have you rooted for the police to get away with murder? How many times has the protagonist killed someone for personal reasons? They may find a way to kill said individual in the line of duty and that is legal, and or in many cases personally hunt them down and commit murder, and then the story line is about them getting away with murder, but at the same time many story lines in the same series say no one has a justifiable reason for murder, and they may even arrest someone for the same reason as they killed someone.
This teaches the audience that you can’t kill for abuse, country, cause, or revenge, but the police can and should kill, and if they do kill it was only for a valid reason
(NCIS, NCIS LA, The Mentalist)
2. The ‘red tape’ and intense scrutiny of police shootings is the worst, and harmful for the police, in general the scrutiny of all of the measures meant to prevent police violence and harassment of citizens is hindering the police. How many shows have you watched where the main character scoffs at the idea of mandatory counselling post a shooting, or is angry by the idea of having to justify why they took a shot and killed a man
(Rookie Blue, Cold Case, Hawaii 5-0)
3. The police are underpaid and lack the funds for the necessary policing measures. This one in particular I internalized to the extreme, I have always held the false assumption that police are underfunded like all of the other services they equate themselves too - but the police departments have more than enough funds as the protests have revealed. Yet, every cop show depicts a scene of complaining about budget cuts, lack of funds, cannot pursue a case because of budget cuts. On top of that any cop that gets caught stealing is justified because if he was paid fairly, he wouldn’t have to do that.
(Castle, Lucifer, Brooklyn Nine Nine)
4. The police can’t save ‘everyone’ in the context of the most vulnerable of society drug addicts, sex workers, the mentality ill, the sad reality is that some people ‘don’t want help’ - it says societal problems are unsolvable not that the police are not qualified or effective in solving society problems but even then there is a plucky do good cop not yet jaded that will try and try to save people, but eventually have to come to a hard realization you can’t save everyone
(Perception, Criminal Minds, Law and Order SVU)
5. The police always work with experts in the field, have the best technology and moreover, experts will want to work tirelessly for the police or the police themselves are geniuses- this is not the case, in fact in many cases police incompetence and ignoring experts leads to false convictions
(Bones, Rizzoli & Isles, all the CSI, Criminal Minds)
But the most malicious form of propaganda is the way in which police procedurals acknowledge the real world political climate and use the criticism as a way to bolster the police, by this I mean, so many cop shows will have an episode of focusing on a corrupt cop, or a civil rights activist wrongfully arrested, wrongful conviction in general, and the narrative will show outrage throughout the system, cops all banning together to undo this injustice, but with enough resistance from some bad apples to make it seem as if they acknowledge the system is not fully functional but reinforces to the audience that many cops can and do fight the system to get the wrongfully accused out of prison, to protect civil liberties and that cops do care and will willingly fight their own to do it .
Moreover, this is shown in the context of the importance of police brotherhood. Being a cop is always more than a job it’s a lifestyle, you can’t stop being a cop, and it’s a part of your identity, so its extra heroic that the protagonist challenged the corrupt cop, it’s as if he or she turned on his own family to do what is right.
There are always episodes about going after the rich and politically connected and how no matter what the protagonist will do what’s right and fight against the system to get justice for a poor, or poc , or down on their luck victim, it teaches us that even though in the news cops might not be able to stop all of the big evil rich people, Kate Beckett or Jake Peralta is out their fighting the fight, trying to take on corporations, it teaches us to go on faith that the police are separate from the corrupt system, and will try to take on politicians and corporations rather than the reality of them working for those same people
Finally, so many cop shows have minorities and women leading the charge to challenge the old guard, usually with the new era of white men, that laugh at the police brutality and incompetence of older generations. It’s hard to ignore the damage the police have done, but every show simply disregards this with a change in the vanguard, newer cops are immune to racism, classicism and agree older cops used to break the rules and where more corrupt but now that isn’t the case. It’s meant to undermine all of the arguments against police, think about how many people agree that the police during the civil rights movement of the 1960s were bad, or the police that co-operated with drug dealers were terrible but no more, cops now are much more ethical.
Propaganda is dangerous, because it is continuous and repetitive, it is subtle and seeps into your life, you internalize things because we all consume media for enjoyment not to subject it to academic rigour, and that's how they get you to sympathize and feel for cops, we constantly watch stories of brave souls putting their lives on the line for us, and of course we want to believe that this is a real life story and reflective of most cops, but we need to realize now that this is not the case in reality, and its not just a few bad apples, but a system that is broken beyond repair, who relied on the entertainment industry to spread and maintain the false face of the police industry to avoid and undermine criticism.
Just remember No one is above falling for propaganda
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Executive privilege
Also on AO3
"You can expose them all, President Hale! The people have a right to protect themselves! It's in the interest of public safety! They have to know about the monsters we're up against!"
Derek raised an eyebrow at General Gerard Argent's words and tone. "The monsters we're up against? What makes them monsters, General? From the reports you've shown me, the ones that fight and injure your men are doing so in self-defence. In fact, your men seem to always be in the right place at the right time when previously-innocent people who have never hurt anyone before suddenly start to attack, General."
General Argent's mouth thinned into a frown, his eyes cold. Derek fought the urge to shudder; he'd seen lizard people with kinder expressions.
"What has been done here is against the Geneva Convention, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, as well as every ethical and personal viewpoint I hold. In fact, in the interest of public safety, everyone involved in this... endeavour should find alternative means of employment. That includes yourself, General Argent. Thank you for your time," Derek said.
He couldn't call it service because there had been peace for longer than most expected, and General Argent was well-known for rising through the Army's ranks thanks to his late wife, and calling it his own success instead. His daughter had followed her mother's example for her own employment, and had been less than pleased to be kicked out of the Secret Service as a result when she eventually offered a very different secret service to the wrong person.
Now that his wife and her influence was gone, and the previous President had lost by a landslide, Argent's use of taxpayer money had been brought into question when there was so little return for the millions he'd been given over the last three years. Argent had used what little influence he had left to get the Anti-Magic and Werecreatures Bill introduced on the Senate floor. Most people laughed it off, but General Argent's twenty years of service - most of them behind a desk thanks to his wife's influence - had more people listening than even he had anticipated. When the new President himself had requested more information about the Bill, Gerard knew he'd have all the job security he needed, just as soon as the President knew that these monsters existed, just like he had with the previous President. He'd given President Hale a tour of the underground bunker and demonstrated how evil the monsters he'd captured were, utterly certain of the Bill passing with the new President's support.
Derek had honestly thought that General Argent was going to show him war plans against some random country with oil or supposed weapons, not an underground bunker full of their own goddamned citizens being experimented on and held hostage by a small private army. The fact that this place even existed made him nauseous and the only reason Derek didn't immediately throw up was because it finally gave him the excuse he needed to fire General Argent.
Argent's smug expression disappeared and his mouth dropped. "You're firing me?!"
"Yes, I am."
Gerard's face reddened and he stood, pointing a finger and glaring. "Listen here, you fuck, the only reason you got elected is because of men like me. My influence extends far further than the likes of you could ever know. Firing me will start a war and it's one I'll win."
"Are you threatening the President, Mr. Argent?"
Argent didn't even have the decency to look ashamed, and sneered over at Derek's Head of Secret Service. "What's it sound like to you?"
Stiles grinned, wide and broad and a little bit psychotic. "Sounds like grounds to finally be able to kick your ass out of the White House. Sir?" he asked, sparing a glance for Derek.
"You won't go quietly, will you, Argent?" Derek asked, resigned with a tiny sliver of hope that Gerard might actually see sense.
He didn't want his first month as President to be marred by images of Argent being dragged kicking and screaming across the damn front lawn, even if it would be amusing for himself and satisfying for Stiles.
"Damn right I won't! I've served this country and held this seat for - "
"Three and a half years, you posturing moron. Everyone knows that Mrs. Argent kissed political ass to get your position and had to suck dick just to keep you in the Army!" Stiles said with a laugh.
Face reddening, Gerard turned his attention towards the shitstain who had usurped his daughter's position. "You only got this position because you're fucking him!" he said, thumbing over to Derek.
Stiles' grin just got wider and somehow, even more psychotic. "Nah, that's just a bonus. You're still upset 'cause I got Kate's sexual harrassing ass kicked out, are you? Even if she learned everything from her dear dead mommy, it's no fucking excuse for what that bitch did."
Derek sighed. "If we can get to the part where Argent's escorted out of here, I'd appreciate it. I want this whole... operation shut down by someone you trust, Stilinski."
Stiles gave a salute, mocking and cheeky as he dared. "Yes, sir."
Gerard used the moment of distraction to his advantage, whipping his gun out and pointing it at Stiles. "Don't move!"
Stiles rolled his eyes and held his hands up with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, that's no fun."
"Think about what you're doing, Argent," Derek said, anger lacing his tone.
"The last President agreed with me, and you will too! You'll see what these monsters are like. It won't take long for something to happen to your family, your friends, your... fuck toy over there, and you'll know I'm right. They need to be exterminated like the bugs they are!"
"Are they monsters or are they bugs? Seems like two very different species and different methods of genocide, if that's what you're going for," Stiles mused, moving so Gerard's gun would follow him, keeping Derek out of sight and out of harm's way.
Gerard's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter! They all need to die!"
"Right, genocide and mass deaths, just what the good ol' US of A wants to be known for. Y'know, again."
"Stop moving! I have the gun, I'm calling the shots," Gerard snapped, locking the hammer back and holding his finger over the trigger.
"All right, calm your saggy balls. Ew, I pictured it. Ewww," Stiles shuddered. "I'm not moving. I'm doing what you said, okay? Also, FYI, I've thought about it and I do not appreciate being called a fuck toy."
Gerard had had enough. "Shut the fuck up!"
Stiles grinned, his eyes bright, and not in a good way. "But I'm doing such a good job of distracting you."
His words made sense, but at the same time, they made no sense at all. There was no reception down here for the President to call for help, and the underground bunker was filled with his men that were paid for their loyalty and silence. He turned in time to see a monster where the President had been standing only moments ago, a werewolf snarling with red eyes, thick sideburns, and... wait, was that the President's tie?
"You're... you're one of them!" Gerard said, eyes wide and hand slack on the gun. Then his grip tightened and he lifted the gun to point at the President, his finger moving to the trigger in the same instant.
A gunshot rang out and Derek blinked when he realised he wasn't hurt. In front of him, Gerard dropped to his knees, blood blossoming across his shirt and a look of disbelief on his face.
"Stiles, what did you do?" Derek asked, looking between the dying man and his bodyguard, sighing around fangs.
Stiles frowned at him, holding his gun to the side so the barrel wouldn't burn his leg - you only made that mistake once - and tilted his head. "He was going to shoot you, I couldn't get to you in time, so I shot him instead. I'll probably be doing paperwork about this from now until the end of time, and might have to face a review panel, but it's worth it."
Derek shifted back, adjusting his tie. "Thank you, Stiles."
"Just doing my job, sir," he replied, smiling. Then his smile faded and he looked out of the one-way glass to the cages and small militia that Argent had created. "I don't think we'll be making our political dinner, Derek."
It hadn't been a dinner either of them had wanted to attend in the first place, but they both knew the sort of sacrifices they'd have to make even before Derek had started his first political campaign. Considering the cages of tortured people below, Derek hated that he felt relieved he wouldn't have to attend the dinner now.
"No, probably not. I'll send the Vice President with my apologies. You organise backup first; convincing Lydia will take longer," Derek admitted, glancing down as Argent took his final breath.
"Yeah, she's not going to be happy," Stiles mused, picking up the old-school rotary phone on Argent's desk to place a call. "Boyd, Reyes, you two still awake and decent?"
"It's five-thirty, Stilinski, what do you think?" Boyd asked.
"No, we're not!" Erica called with a laugh in the background.
"Get decent, find Lahey, and get to the White House. Argent took it upon himself to use an underground bunker as his own personal playground. We're talking werecreature prisoners, torture, and men compensating for their tiny dicks with weapons."
"Holy fuck. We'll be right there."
"Use the elevator in the Oval Office to get to the bunker. It's one of many entrances, apparently. Oh, and don't move Argent's body; I want to get the fucker's fingernails so I can curse Kate."
"There isn't an elevator in the Oval Office. Stiles, what body - "
Stiles hung up the phone, knowing they'd have no problem finding the elevator since he'd left the fake panel door open. He held the phone out to Derek so he could call Lydia, then looked at the walls of Argent's office covered in maps, lists with names, and didn't envy anyone the investigation that would take place after Argent's treason was revealed.
Seeing a small wall-mounted key cabinet, Stiles opened it to find it filled with labelled keys, each one corresponding to the bunker's map taped to the door. Waiting until Derek finished his call with Lydia, Stiles nodded to the box. "Do you want to distract the army while I work my magic on these?"
"You'll be safe?" Derek asked.
Stiles grinned. "Always, sir. They're likely to be distracted with a great and moving speech from their new President. Might I suggest the one from Independence Day?"
"No, Stiles."
Stiles grinned and grabbed the map and a handful of keys. "Hmm, fine. All right, you keep 'em distracted and I'll get the cages open. Wish me luck."
Before Derek could do that, Stiles disappeared. Literally.
Waiting another few minutes to allow Boyd, Erica, and Isaac more time as well as the scent of Stiles' magic to fade, Derek stepped out onto the office landing to keep the late General's army preoccupied. Derek knew he would be using his executive privilege sooner rather than later. In the interest of public safety, of course.
...
The end.
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“Thank God Suella Braverman is back,” writes one Telegraph columnist. “Her determination to crack down on crime and illegal immigration undoubtedly chimes with the views of the country, and especially voters in the Red Wall. Thank God there is someone in the Cabinet to put forward those views.”
Her return is not an oddity, not a pantomime joke, but proves how deeply Rishi Sunak is in hock to the hard right, like every Tory leader from John Major onwards. The party will rewrite the past week’s knife-edge drama as a smooth and inevitable coronation of its princeling, but his frantic scramble for the wrong votes tells another story. Restoring Braverman to the Home Office and boasting of party “unity” unites him with the obnoxious wing that drove the Tories to this post-Brexit dead end. The Express, closest to that faction, reveals that in the last hours battling with Boris Johnson, Sunak was so needy for rightwing support that he called Braverman no fewer than six times begging for her backing and that of the wing she represents; Keir Starmer called that out in PMQs as “a grubby deal”. The first heady days are a leader’s moment of maximum power with every job in their gift – and yet Sunak emerges as another Tory PM too weak to face down those old wrecking “bastards”.
Braverman is their missile. When she stood for leader, Steve Baker instantly stood aside, tweeting: “Happily I no longer need to stand. @SuellaBraverman will deliver these priorities and more.” Yesterday, ex-party chair Jake Berry told TalkTV that far from committing what she described as a “technical infringement of the rules”, “from my own knowledge, there were multiple breaches of the ministerial code”. The cabinet secretary, Simon Case, is reportedly “livid” at her reappointment after six days, as Labour’s Yvette Cooper rightly calls for an investigation to see what she leaked, who to and how often.
Fellow rightwingers rush to her defence: MP Bernard Jenkin defended her reappointment, saying he could “vouch for the highest integrity of my right honourable friend the home secretary”. Here is an early hard landing for Sunak’s rashly boasted integrity, accountability, professionalism, seriousness and competence.
Her blunder exposed more than her failure to follow security rules. She attempted to send a confidential document to, among others, Sir John Hayes: known as her mentor, a rather less fascinating svengali. His Common Sense Group, launched two years ago in the wake of Black Lives Matter with about 40 MPs and reviving the old Cornerstone Group (faith, flag and family), inhabits the shifting sands of rightwing diehards. “Common Sense” is a useful catchphrase suggesting anything less than hard right is nonsense, just as canvassers recognise that when someone says “I’m not political”, they usually vote Tory: any other politics is abnormal.
If she regularly sent policy for approval from the Hayes faction, it’s worth knowing who he is: he was knighted along with Sir John Redwood and Sir Edward Leigh in Theresa May’s frantic wooing of troublesome rightwingers against her Brexit deal. Here are his views, unpopulist as none of them are very popular these days: a Brexiter, he has voted to restrict access to abortion, and is against equal marriage and onshore wind turbines. He’s for standing up in football stadiums and capital punishment. One of his outside jobs is as strategic adviser to BB Energy, a global energy trader. In the middle of the summer heatwave, Hayes condemned “a cowardly new world where we live in a country where we are frightened of the heat. It is not surprising in snowflake Britain.”
Braverman ran wild at the Tory conference, declaring that “a plane taking off to Rwanda … That’s my dream. That’s my obsession.” Her glee at longer prison terms for peaceful climate protesters is repugnant: “We’ll keep putting you behind bars,” she says. If Sunak cuts benefits yet again, he has an ally; she said this month: “I want to cut welfare spending. We have far too many people in this country who are fit to work, who are able to work … the benefit street culture is a feature of modern Britain”, needing “a bit more stick” to get people back to work.
But she will be blamed for the near collapse of the Home Office: from passport chaos to police recruitment in England and Wales that is still 7,000 below the number of officers cut since 2010. The more she promises impossibly few asylum-seekers and refugees, the more glaring are Home Office failures, processing virtually none of the rising numbers, with the shameful squalor of their living conditions revealed by a chief inspector who said he was left “speechless”.
Labour can weaponise Sunak’s dependence on the Tory right. That’s real, unlike the constant tired refrain at PMQs that Starmer served in the shadow cabinet of Jeremy Corbyn, a man now deprived of the Labour whip, while Braverman is Sunak’s personal choice as home secretary. Sunak is handcuffed to his hard right – no one thinks Starmer is in hock to the hard left.
ConservativeHome’s assistant editor, William Atkinson, suggests there’s political method in the danger of this appointment. Culture wars whipped up by Braverman and her allies will hide the new austerity. Sunak will stand by as they let rip on immigration, on the Equality and Human Rights Commission, the online safety bill and the green wokerati. He hopes their foghorns on statues, colonialism, museums and immigration will drown out everything else. But people feeling the pain of a 17% rise in food prices, doubling energy bills and soaring mortgages and rents are not easily distracted. As for Braverman’s “obsession” with immigration, that now sits just eighth on the Ipsos list of public concerns.
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Impulse: The Beginning (Javier Peña x Reader)
Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: Nothing much! Mentions of misogyny/sexism, tobacco and alcohol use, show level violence, swearing
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: BACK TO THE BEGINNING LADS LETS SEE WHERE THIS SHIT SHOW STARTED
*Spanish translation at the end of the fic*
Have you read Part 1 yet? // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->
---
As one of only a few female agents in the DEA academy at the time, you had fought tooth and nail for your place from day one. Most of the men in your class thought you were useless and had campaigned on multiple occasions to get you taken out of the academy. This was mostly due to your success. You were a great agent already and were itching to get into some real action.
When the agency announced that they would be sending a couple of the highest achieving students from the graduating class out on a new placement program, you knew it was your chance. Incredibly, before you even got a chance to apply you were pulled aside by a professor and told you’d be selected. You were going to Colombia.
The fight in South America was all anyone spoke about. The tonnes they were hauling out was unmatched, it made Miami look like a small fry. A chance to go down there and help, maybe even take down some Narcos yourself, was one everyone dreamed of. Colombia alone had two of the biggest players, Pablo Escobar, and The Cali Cartel. Placement in that country would no doubt be the best learning experience you could ever get! Who knows, maybe you would be the one to catch Escobar!
It took a little convincing to your parents to let you go. They’d seen the news; they knew how dangerous it was and weren’t too keen on you going. Eventually, after a meeting with your coordinator they were convinced, you packed a bag and you flew down to Bogotá.
You were picked up at the airport and driven to the American embassy in the city to meet your mentor Agent Javier Peña. You hadn’t been told much about him other than he was from Texas and had been in Colombia for a while. Not a lot to go off. In your head you imagined some old cowboy, grumpy and hardened by the horrors of the world he had seen. He wouldn’t believe you when you appeared, would probably ask to have you removed immediately. You sighed, already resigning yourself to hate the man you were now forced to spend the next year with.
Your escort took you through the embassy, to the DEA’s office and promptly abandoned you at the door without another word. This was it. You pushed open the door and were instantly greeted by a cheery woman’s voice from behind a desk. Denise, according to her name plate, was filing her nails when you approached. She set the file down and smiled sweetly.
“Hey there, darling! What can I do for you?” Her voice had a strong southern twang to it, a quintessential southern belle with curled blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
“Hi, I’m here to see... Agent Peña,” You looked at that note in your hand to check you had the right person.
“‘Course sweetie, what’s your name?” She asked. You gave her your name and she told you to sit down in a seat opposite her desk for a moment while she called him. “So, you’re working with Peña?” She asked when she put the phone down again.
“Yeah,” You nodded, “What’s he like? I don’t really know what to expect,”
Denise giggled, “You’re certainly in for a treat darlin’. He’s something else,” You turned when her eyes watched someone through the window, “But I’m warning you now, don’t flirt with him,”
“I’m not-,” Your jaw dropped when the man in question walked past the window. Denise giggled, “Jesus Christ,” You muttered. He certainly was not the old man you had expected at all. He entered the room and you quickly shut your dropped jaw.
“Javier! Nice to see you,” Denise smiled at the man. You were shocked. Javier Peña was older, yes, but he was incredibly handsome. Tall, dark hair with dark eyes to match. He had a blue shirt on, unbuttoned just one too far. In such a professional environment it almost looked obscene. He smiled and your heart flipped.
“Denise,” Javier smiled charmingly at the assistant before turning to you, “who’s your friend?” Denise introduced you, “You’re the new kid?” He asked briefly looking you up and down, he shook your hand. Still a little dazed you smiled and nodded. “Quiet huh?”
“Sorry, uh it’s nice to meet you,” You pulled yourself out of your head, stumbling over your words as your brain caught up with what was actually going on.
“Let me show you round,” Javier chuckled, “I’ll see you later Denise,”
“See ya Javi,” She waved as you followed Agent Peña out of the office and down a new corridor.
“She’s cute. Is she your girlfriend?” You asked. Javier turned to you and shook his head.
“Never seen her before,” He smirked. You were glad he was walking ahead of you, as your jaw dropped. If he was like that with someone he had never met, what in hell was he like he was someone he liked?!
Javier took you around the office, showing the different places and meeting different people you would need to know. It seemed most people were exasperated by Javier; he was cocky and liked to get a rise out of people. He obviously didn’t really care for the bureaucracy of the job, much more an action guy than a paperwork guy. Despite your track record with these types previously, you got on well with Javier. He was easy to talk to and his confidence wasn’t arrogant.
You followed him around from room to room, making small talk about where you were from, how you’d been enjoying the academy and such. All the while you were trying to remember where everything was but ultimately failing. The place was a maze. Eventually you came to a small office tucked away in the corner of the building.
“And this, is where we live!” Javier said as he opened the room. The room was small, barely enough room for the two desks and row of cabinets inside. Behind one desk, engrossed in a manila file was a blonde man. He looked up when you entered, giving Javier a questioning look, “This is the Rookie,”
“Y/n,” You added. You were pretty sure he had forgotten your name, introducing you as Rookie to the last three people you had met.
“That's what I meant to say,” He replied, waving you off.
“Nice to meet you Rookie,” The blonde man grinned and chuckled, “Steve Murphy,”
“Nice to meet you sir,” You reached over the messy desk and shook his hand.
“Sir? I could get used to that! Bit of respect round here would be nice,” Steve laughed. “Steve will work just fine,”
“Or pendejo, he does respond to that too,” Javier added.
“Real funny Peña,” Steve snapped back. You chuckled. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Javier chaotically cleared a space for you at his desk by moving a pile of paper from one surface to another.
“We’re moving out of here soon,” He explained, you nodded. He offered a chair, and a cigarette. You took both. “Did you have any trouble at the airport?” Javier asked. You shook your head.
“Nope. Bat my eyelashes and they don’t seem to worry,” You laughed to yourself. Javier raised an eyebrow.
“You get a lot of things done that way?” He asked. Your smile dropped quickly.
“No. I got here on credit, didn’t fuck my way to the top of that’s what your asking Agent Peña,” You said seriously, “Get that straight now. I’m just as good as any man, in fact I’m better. I don’t deal well with sexist assholes,”
“Out of line, I got it,” He threw his hands up in defence, leaning back on his chair. You turned to Murphy, who shrugged.
“All good,”
“Good,” you confirmed, “I don’t want you to think I’m rude, I just have to make it clear,”
“Crystal,”
The rest of the day was a blur, shipped about from one office to another getting badges and meeting important people. You were exhausted. Despite the copious amounts of coffee, you consumed, you had to force your eyes to stay open during the car ride home with Javier. You had been awake for more than twenty-four hours and added to the stress of a new job; you were ready to crash.
You said thanks to your mentor and dragged yourself up the stairs to your own apartment. You had only been inside your apartment briefly to drop off your bag earlier in the day. You could barely remember what it looked like.
The apartment was small and dark. There was a good-sized living room with a lumpy looking couch and a tv set. A small kitchen sat next to the entry door, separated by a half to the living room. Three doors came off the living room walls, one to a small closet, one to a tiny pink tiled bathroom and the last to a bedroom. The bedroom had a large window looking out over the street and the city beyond. There was a dresser with handles that were falling off and a double bed. The covers were old, and the colour had faded, the whole structure creaked when you sat down. The whole apartment seemed faded and old, but it would do.
You lay down, fully clothed, and smiled up at the ceiling. You had made it. You had done it! You were in Colombia, working for the DEA fighting Pablo freaking Escobar! You had succeeded beyond anyone’s expectation and you were excited to prove everyone who had ever doubted you wrong.
--
You hit the ground running the next day. Between moving the office to a new location, learning the ropes of the job, and catching up on ongoing investigations you felt like you never stopped. You had been home only to sleep for a few hours. You’d change your outfit, shower, and head straight back to work. You had quickly learnt that Javier was not going to be what you imagined your mentor would be, he was much more of ‘do as I say not as I do’ kind of teacher. In one week, you had already seen things that would have you kicked out of the academy if you were caught doing it. You had realised this experience would be much more of an experience to reflect on later than learn any real textbook things from day to day.
Friday was here. You knew you could get at least a few hours rest tomorrow, hoping that you wouldn’t be called in. You’d steadily been making your way through case notes, trying to make some sort of system so the immense amount of information through your desk wouldn’t get lost. You hadn’t noticed Steve and Javier call you, until Javier tapped on the desk next to you. You looked up.
“Rookie! Come on,” He motioned over to Steve who was waiting at the door, Kevlar vest in hand. You were going out on a raid!
“Seriously?” Your eyes lit up and you jumped up. You rushed to get your gun from the draw and raced after the two agents. Finally, you were getting to see some action. You were itching with excitement to finally be able to go into the field. All your training was leading up to this! A moment which for most agents didn’t happen for years! You ran to the courtyard and jumped into the backseat Javier’s truck
Javier fiddled with a radio on the dash until audible orders could be heard, barked through the walkie-talkie giving the plan for the raid. It was the house of a known sicario, not a big player in the grand scheme of things but they would have valuable information.
“When we get out there, you’re staying in here, got it?” Javier said once the orders were given.
“I don’t want to be left on the side-lines and watch! How am I meant to learn anything sitting in a truck?”
“You can stand outside the truck,” Javi offered. You
“Come on!” You begged, “Steve?”
“It’s not my call, Rookie,” Steve shrugged. You sighed.
“So, I’m meant to stand around and watch you have all the fun?”
“Quit whining,” Peña replied, glancing at you in the rear-view mirror. You frowned and settled back in your seat, your excitement dying a little.
After a few minutes of driving through the city, the convoy stopped outside a large house on the corner of a street. Javier parked and the two men jumped out of the vehicle slipping on their vests as they did. You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before stepping outside to join them.
Men started piling out of the cars and taking their places cordoning off the area. Steve was the first to get stuck in, immediately walking over to the man you assumed was in charge. You followed him, just to hear how raids were set up. Not so you could get involved, of course.
“Where are you going?” Javier asked as you walked past him.
“With Steve?” You replied cautiously, motioning over to the blonde a few paces ahead. Javi raised a brow.
“Rookie…” He warned.
“Javier…?” You replied in the same tone, as if you didn’t know exactly what he was going to say.
“Stay,” He said firmly, holding his hand up like a command given to a dog. You frowned.
“I’m not a dog,” You argued, Javi grinned and patted you on the head.
“Good girl,” You scowled at him, making him laugh again before he walked away to join his partner.
“Jerk,” You called after him. You complied, reluctantly, leaning back on the hood of the truck and watching from afar. You knew that it was a dangerous situation and you didn’t have much experience yet; you weren’t going to be seeing any up-close action for a while. It was for your own safety and everyone else's.
But it was boring.
After a short while of preparations and what seemed a lot like just milling about. The team entered the building. Those who were left outside visibly relaxed. Now any superior officers had gone out of sight, the soldiers huddled in groups chatting amongst themselves keeping one eye on their post but mostly watching you.
None of them spoke to you, but you could hear them. They assumed you didn’t speak Spanish, like Steve, so spoke without a filter whilst within earshot. How attractive they thought you were, wondering about how you got your role and whether you’d show them how you got it if they got you drunk. It was disgusting, but not new. Men are the same world over, it seemed.
You leant against the hood of the truck and turned your attention to the matter at hand. You weren’t here to make friends after all. You were here to learn, here to work. If you couldn’t follow into the raid you could learn as much as you could from the outside.
Gunfire and shouting erupted from the building suddenly, making you jump in surprise. Nobody else seemed to take any notice, barely looking up. You watched intently following shadows in the windows. Then, out the corner of your eye you saw a man race from the building. You looked over at the men, still stood around, and back to the man from the building who had started to slow down, and nobody was chasing him. They didn’t see anything. This was your chance. Before anyone could stop you, you ran down the street after the escapee.
He spotted you instantly and began to run faster down the hill and around a corner. You kept up well until the corner revealed a large crowd of people between shops. Market stalls lined the streets and your target disappeared in the blink of an eye. You followed into the people, making sure to keep your gun down to avoid mass panic. You didn’t need more of a scene to let the guy escape
You skidded to a halt and looked around, immediately overwhelmed by the amount of people and directions the man could have gone. You walked to the middle of the intersection and looked left, nothing unusual, right, nothing. Your heart hammered into your ribcage as you tried to collect yourself. It was hard to concentrate under the sun. He couldn’t have gone far, you lost him for two seconds! Losing hope of a dramatic first arrest, you looked up another street, and couldn’t spot your target. You moved to slip your gun back into your holster until you turned and saw a man leant against a wall heaving for breath halfway back up the hill you had just run down. He thought he’d lost you.
You collected yourself with a slow breath and pursued the man again, this time slowly so you didn’t catch his attention. He hadn’t spotted you as you exited the crowd of the market and walked up the hill opposite side of the street, dipping your head so not to catch his eye. You reached for your gun, just ten feet away from him when he finally noticed and jumped up.
“Fuck!” You cursed out loud as you chased him once more. The steep hill made your legs burn, but unlike the man in your pursuit you could bare it. He was visibly flagging and by the time he reached the top of the hill he had given up and you had caught up.
You shoved him against the wall, keeping your gun to his back and leg round his to keep him still. Your heart was hammering in your chest, you laughed to yourself as the adrenaline swept you up.
“Te mataré,” The man spat at you, “puta,” You swiftly lifted your knee, kicking him in the balls making the man yelp. Was it necessary? No. But it felt brilliant.
“Shut up,” You replied. You smugly smiled until you realised you were now stuck. You had no handcuffs so had no way to move him. You had not thought this through at all. You looked around and to your surprise you had just run around the block and ended up on a few feet from where your chase had begun.
You watched the raid exit the house, dragging a few men in cuffs with them. You spotted Murphy and Peña, who quickly noticed that you were gone. You watched them look for you for a minute before calling out.
“Over here!” You called loud enough for the men to hear you. Murphy was the first to spot you and ran over quickly, with a few soldiers in tow.
“Thought we told you to stay by the truck,” He said.
“You missed one,” You replied. You removed yourself from your prisoner and stuck your gun back into the holster on your hip.
“Good job,” He praised you, clapping you on the back. “Bring him up,”
With handcuffs on, the two soldiers took the man into custody. You followed Steve back over to the trucks. You beamed with pride. You’re first ever arrest! You spotted Javier watching you as you approached, a smirk set on his lips and an eyebrow raised. Your pride wavered a little. Just as you got back to the truck, prepared to get berated by your mentor, a man in a green uniform stormed over to you. You dropped your smile quickly.
“Quien es ella?!” He asked, spitting out the words at Javier. “Porque esta ella aqui?” Despite him asking about you, the man never looked at you. His attitude immediately aggravated you and before Javier could open his mouth to reply you jumped in for him.
“Yo trabajo con Murphy y Peña,” You replied for him, a sarcastic smile on your face, driving home the point that you did understand what he was saying and that he couldn’t ignore you so blatantly.
“Carrillo this is Y/n L/n, Rookie this is Commander Carrillo,” Javier introduced you to Carrillo. Javier gave you a warning look, as if that was going to stop your temper. Carrillo looked you up and down then sneered.
“Eres un poco joven?” He turned to you. You scoffed.
“It’s a new placement programme the agency is trialling,” Peña jumped in again, “Don’t worry about it,”
“Oh, so my war is a place for you to test your kids huh?” Carrillo rolled his eyes, “Fucking gringos. I don’t want some girl here,” He waved you away, turning on his heel and walking away. You scoffed, anger taking over.
“Sir, with all due respect. Fuck you,” You called after him. Carrillo stopped walking, half turned back, shocked at the audacity of what you were saying, “If I wasn’t here that guy would have run off and it would have taken you another month to find him again. Personally, I think a thank you is in order,”
“Okay! In the truck, Rookie,” Steve finally stepped in, before Carrillo could reply. He grabbed you and pulled you out the way and back to the truck. Javier stood in the way of Carrillo, so he didn’t follow.
“What a jerk,” You grumbled as you slammed your door. You glowered in the backseat, watching Javier and Carrillo talk.
“About sums it up,” Murphy agreed.
“He looks pissed,” You commented as you watched Javier part with Carrillo and join you and Murphy ready to leave.
“He always looks like that,” Steve replied, making you chuckle. You were still nervous; you had completely stepped out of line saying that stuff to the commander. No doubt Javier was going to be just as mad. You picked at the loose thread on your shirt, staying quiet when Javier opened the door. “Good?” Steve asked.
“All good,” Javier replied as he shut the truck door. Steve started up the engine and pulled away from the scene.
“Seriously?” You were shocked.
“Oh no he hates you now, but he hated Steve for a while there too so don’t take it too personally,” Javier said, Steve chuckled. “You certainly know how to make a good first impression,”
“I’m not in trouble?”
“I’m a little worried you might be insane; I don’t think I would even say that shit to Carrillo!” Javier said, “But I will say you did a good job with that sicario so, I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate the occasion when we get back,”
Javier turned to look at you quickly, giving you a cheeky smirk. You grinned back. You’d done awesome today, a week into this placement and you’d already made an arrest. One bad guy off the street, all by yourself! You’d pissed off Carrillo, and while you were sure it would probably bite you in the ass further down the road, you had made an unforgettable impression and you couldn’t really bring yourself to care that he hated you.
That evening Javier kept his promise and brought you a drink at the bar after work. Sat with Murphy and Javier in a booth, listening as the two of them bickered like an old married couple, you couldn’t stop smiling.
“To Rookie!” Steve drunkenly called out, raising his beer up. “May you keep on ignoring orders and kicking ass!” You cackled with laughter and cheersed your teammates.
This was going to be a great year.
--
Next Chapter -->
See! I CAN be nice!!!
translations (as always i am learning PLEASE correct me if these are wrong!)
Te mataré - I will kill you
puta - bitch
Quien es ella? - who is she
porque esta ella aqui? - why is she here?
yo trabajo con Murphy y Peña - i work with Murphy and Peña
eres un poco joven - aren’t you a little young?
Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!
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Dangerous and Divine - Part 2
Billy Russo x Reader
Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.
A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.
Warnings: Some drinking and swearing. Billy could possibly be borderline DUI* on way home.
*Please Don’t Drink & 🚙 ...you don’t want to end up needing 🚑 🚓 🚒 for you or other people.
(My GIF)
You raised an eyebrow, unsmiling, “What’s the price?”
“Come for a drink with me.... but not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”
Laughing quietly, you climbed into the Rolls Royce Wraith, Billy closing the door for you before walking round to the driver’s side. He smiled back, looking across at you as he clipped on his seatbelt, “Somethin’ amusing you?”
“Well here we are, two CEO’s if you will, and this is your ride. Wanna know what mine is?” He nodded, “Yeah, tell me.” “The subway, or these two pretty feet.” He laughed, “Usedta be mine too.”
The car’s engine purred into life and he swung it quickly out of the parking space, heading towards the exit of the underground car park.
“So,” you glanced across at his profile, “where are we heading?” “Not far,” he said, “a neighbourhood bar I hang out at. It’s relaxed, not too busy.”
Shortly after that, he parked the sleek car on the street and the two of you headed into a small bar with low lighting, background music and not too many people in it. The bartender mock-saluted Billy as he stepped inside, and there was a whisky on the bar by the time you two got there.
Billy looked sidelong at you as you perched yourself onto a barstool, “What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” You gave him a ‘Look’, saying, “Sweetheart?”
He smirked, shrugging, “Hey! you are my fake girlfriend, after all.” “Ha ha, okay - you get a pass this time, big boy.” This time he drawled out your name, continuing, “You’ve been lookin’!” leaning back slightly and gesturing at his zip area. You lightly punched his arm, “Referring to your height, smartass!”
Internally, you were cringing a bit. The sensible side of your brain asked you what you thought you were doing, leaving the cocktail party with a complete stranger, and flirting all over him. The devilish part of your brain answered, ‘Living a little! Flirting with a handsome guy! Stop being such a mood killer!’
“I’ll have a mojito for a change, if you don’t mind,” you said. “Coming right up,” said the bartender, who, you realised, had been listening in to your exchange with Billy.
Once your drink was served, Billy gestured to a table and as you walked over to it, you felt a hand placing itself lightly on your lower back. Confident big devil, you thought, sitting down and watching him fold his tall frame onto the fairly small chair, then sliding his long legs under the table.
Spending the next couple of hours with Billy had actually been enjoyable, you thought, as you listened to him telling you some more about his friends Frank and Curtis. He’d told you about serving in the Marines and setting up Anvil once he’d left. You got the feeling that he’d only scratched the surface about it, though.
You’d only just met of course, however you found yourself wanting to know more about the tall ex-Marine.
And you hadn’t told him everything about yourself either. He now knew you were in the catering industry, but you’d skirted round telling him the details about your two cafes, you weren’t sure why. Maybe you wanted to retain a bit of mystery, you thought, mildly annoyed at yourself for feeling the need to do so.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
He had asked you why you’d owed your cousin a favour. So you found yourself telling him all about it, and he’d barked out a huge laugh when you’d mentioned ‘possibly’ assaulting your ex and the girl he’d been with. And another one, when you confessed you’d been taken into police custody.
“I’m drinkin’ with a criminal?!” he’d grinned, “Oh, I think I should be leaving right now.” You’d slapped him on the arm, “Shut up, you. It was in self-defence.” He raised his eyebrows nearly up into his hairline, “And how do you make that out?” “My eyes were attacked by what they saw!” you protested, and both of you started laughing at that.
“So he’s an ‘ex’ now, is he?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer, which he’d switched to after one whisky. “You bet your life he is! No man treats me like that,” you shook your head, sinking some of your own beer, which you’d joined him in drinking. His dark eyes found yours, “What would you’ve done if you’d found him actually fucking her?”
Your eyes went wide, “Oh, that’s an easy question, Mr Russo. I’d’ve chopped off some of his lower extremities, of course!”
His screwed his eyes up in mock pain, “Woahhh!!! Brutal.” You shrugged, “Well, you asked.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Back to the car soon after that, then heading to your apartment after Billy offered to drop you off.
That was after he’d asked if you’d wanted to continue the evening at his place. You’d politely replied ‘thanks but no thanks’ or words to that effect. He’d accepted your answer gracefully, so here you were. Truthfully you’d thought about saying yes - he was really hot, and the two of you had been flirting all evening - but you decided you didn’t want to go down the one-night-stand road with him.
You got the feeling that Billy probably indulged in a lot of those. You’d felt some female eyes boring into the back of your head while you were in the bar, and had turned round to find at least three women staring at you as if they wanted you to spontaneously combust.
And you were better than that, you thought, deserved more than one night of sex (never mind how good you were sure it would be) and a walk of shame in the morning.
The car drew up outside your apartment block, and Billy switched off the engine before releasing his seat belt. You looked over at him, smiling, “Why’d you unbuckle, Billy? You’re not coming in,” smiling even wider at him. He smirked, “You sure about that...?” running his long fingers along your arm. You nodded, “Absolutely sure.” He sighed, “Well, I’ve been tryin’ all evening and got nowhere.. so I’ll need to make do with this...” and his mouth was on yours in an instant.
His hand slid up to the nape of your neck and into your hair, pulling you closer to him at the same time. Your hands landed on his chest, subtly stroking his toned muscles. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he sneakily nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue making its way into your mouth as soon as you opened it slightly in surprise. But you weren’t complaining.
Eventually you both had to come up for air, and eyes still closed, you felt his fingers gently running over your cheek, then heard him say your name, voice low and husky. “I wanna see you again.”
You took a breath, before nodding. “Okay, Billy. Call me.” You’d decided to put the ball in Casanova’s court.
He smiled, “You haven’t given me your number. Tryin’ to ditch me?” You dug out one of your business cards from your wallet, and handed it over. It just had your numbers and registered company name on it. “There you go. Let’s just see if you call,” you smirked, “I bet you’re one of these ’treat em mean’ types, aren’t ya Billy?” He started laughing, shaking his head, “Nah, not me,” leaning in and kissing you briefly again.
“I will call you, that’s a promise,” he said as you opened the car door and got out. You smiled back at him, “I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Night, Billy.”
“Sleep well, sweetheart,” you heard, then in a lower tone, “I’ll be lyin’ awake thinking of what I’m missing out on.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
The next morning arrived too soon. You’d dragged yourself up to jump into the shower, which did its job of fully waking you up, so you managed to arrive at your office with at least a bit of a spring in your step.
Your office was above your first café in Chelsea, near the Market. It wasn’t huge, but it was well-equipped and decorated exactly as you liked it. It had a large picture window which let in lots of natural light, and had a view towards 14th Street Park and the Hudson. Entry was via the café, so you made your way through, calling out a ‘buon giorno’ to your three co-workers.
None of you were actually Italian, but it had become a tradition and one of those silly in-jokes between co-workers. Which of course no-one else would find amusing in the slightest but it made sense to you guys, as your café/patisseries were named after Italian cities, and because Italians don’t generally call cafés, cafés ...you had Bar Venezia and Bar Firenze. Clichéd? Oh yes. Did you care? Not in the slightest.
You were incredibly proud of your business and your team. The hard scrabble to get the financing together had been really stressful, but it had all come together in the end with the bank and the investors and now, here you were, captain of your own ship, so to speak.
The two cafés had similar decor, simple but elegant, based on cafés you’d visited in various countries across the world. The second café was not too far away in Greenwich Village. They gave out a nice relaxed vibe just as you’d aimed for and you felt blessed - business was good. You had a good mix of regulars and passing trade, and you’d nodded and smiled at a couple of those regular customers as you’d made your way through.
The morning phone call for a catch-up with your other site made, you were now currently reviewing a whole stack of statistics, and they were beginning to swim in front of your eyes. So you weren’t upset when the internal phone rang, and Jake, your right-hand man, told you that you had a visitor who wouldn’t give his name. “What?” you said, “is he selling something?”
“I don’t think so,” said Jake in a very low voice, so you guessed that Mystery Man was standing somewhere near him. You sighed, “Oh, I’ll be right down.” Anything to get away from the stats for a while, and you quite looked forward to ripping him a new one if he was trying to sell you something.
The first person you spotted as you came through the internal door to the café was Billy Russo. You should’ve guessed, really. He was resplendent in yet another expensive suit, hair perfect, jawline with its beard as sharp as you remembered it. His eyes were locked on you, gleaming with mischief as he anticipated your reaction to his unannounced appearance in your domain.
You came to a halt in front of him, then glanced at Jake as he stood watching you a little nervously. “Thanks Jake, it’s fine, I know him. Could you be an absolute gem and get me a double macchiato, an Americano and a small selection of the pastries, please?” Jake nodded, “Sí, subito.”
You indicated for Billy to follow you to a table at the far end of the bar, tucked away beside the exposed brick wall and near the window, out of earshot of the staff and patrons. You both sat, Billy saying, “Good morning, sweetheart,” as he did. “And good morning to you, Stalker Boy.” Billy grinned, leaning towards you and almost whispering, “That’s so cute, givin’ me a nickname already and I haven’t even got you in my bed yet.” You rolled your eyes heavenwards, sighing out, “Billy! This is my workplace.”
He smiled, “And very impressive it is too, I love it. You have exquisite taste.” “Yes, I know,” you smiled back, “thanks for confirming that.” Now he laughed, and you tried not to stare too much, thinking how good he looked when he did. Jake came over with your coffees and pastries, and you smiled fondly at him as he put them down on the table. “Grazie mille, caro,” you thanked him.
Billy frowned slightly, “Very friendly, huh... you & him, then?” You smirked, “Jealous, Mr Russo?” He scoffed as he picked up a couple of sugar packs and shook them, before pouring them into his coffee. “Just nosy, that’s all.” “Jake is the first person I hired, and he’s just the best. But me and him? No... he likes men. Want me to set you up?” He put his head back and laughed. “No... but thanks for offering. I’m busy over here tryin’ to set myself up with you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” You shook your head, laughing while looking down at the table. This guy is relentless, you thought with a little shiver of undeniable excitement.
He picked up one of the little freshly-baked pastries and bit into it, an appreciative expression on his face as he chewed it. “How’d you manage to guess how I like my coffee?” he carried on. “It’s my business to know my customers,” you shrugged, “and looking at you, Billy Russo, you just scream black watered-down espresso to me, especially having been in the Marines and all,” you grinned. He smirked back at you, “Yeah, well, you nailed it - much as I hate to admit it. And going back to the nicknames thing, you should really call me Sniper Boy.”
“Wow, really?” you replied, eyes wide. Yeah, you’d felt a dangerous vibe coming off Billy and now you knew why. Nodding, he took another bite of his pastry and said round it, “Haven’t you googled me yet, then? I googled you.” “Hey, you’re going to be Stalker Sniper Boy now. And no, I didn’t have time.”
“You’re not doing anything for my ego, you know.”
“That’s not my job,” you shrugged again.
“You’re givin’ me such a hard time, here,” his dark eyes staring into yours, and you felt yourself almost drowning in them. “I’d just like to take you to dinner, that’s all. Friday night, 8pm? I’ll pick you up at your place.”
And while your head screamed ‘Say no!’ at you, your treacherous mouth opened up and said, “Yes, fine. 8 pm and don’t be late.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You’d walked him to the door when he said he’d better get going. As you reached it, long fingers quickly made their way to the back of your neck, pulling your head towards his and simultaneously, his lips met yours in a long kiss. You tried to pull away from him but he had you in a vice-like grip, and took his own sweet time before breaking away. He placed a second chaste kiss on your cheek and started towards the door, “See you Friday,” in a low voice, paired with a smouldering look at you as he left.
Jake, your two other co-workers Gabrielle and Steve, and your regulars were unsurprisingly all staring at you with blatant and avid interest. Your ex had very rarely visited you at work and when he had, you’d never indulged in PDA’s. You could feel the hot blush on your face as you tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
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Up All Night-Travis Konecny
@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19
Wow I can’t believe how amazing you’ve all been! Thank you so much for your continued support, I’m having a lot of fun writing them!
So here we go: Blurb number 5 of the Up All Night series! I wrote this before I found out the TK is going to be a dad and it feels a little weird now but oh well! I hope you enjoy!
It feels like we've been living in fast forward, another moment passing by. The party's ending but it's now or never. Nobody's going home tonight.
Travis loves nights like this. Good music, beers, and just being with his friends. Tonight is the perfect example of Travis’ personal paradise. The stars out, a fire burning, and all his friends being together worry free for the night.
It is nearing 2 am, but no one seems to be in a hurry to leave. In fact Travis is sure he will just crash here, as will most of the guests. You however, are just arriving. Having worked late, you weren’t even sure you were going to show up at all. Though when you received a snap from your best friend a few hours ago with a certain someone smiling in the background, you knew you had to go.
You haven’t seen Travis since last summer, and this is nothing new. He comes home a couple months a year, and spends the rest of it in Philly. Yet every year when Travis shows up, so do your feelings for him. Not that Travis knows it, but it kills you every time you see him. What can you say? You’re a sucker for punishment. So when Travis’ eyes meet yours across the yard and he smiles brightly at you, you know you aren’t going home tonight.
Katy Perry's on replay, she's on replay, DJ got the floor to shake, the floor to shake, people going all the way, yeah, all the way
Katy Perry is blasting through the speakers, and the base shakes the deck beneath you. “Who is in charge of the music anyway? What is this 2012?” Travis grumbles beside you, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. Travis smirks proudly at his ability to pull that sound from you. It is one of his favourite sounds, and he hates how long it’s been since he’s heard it.
“Trav, not everyone thinks every song needs to be about hunting, fishing, and women.” You chirp, and he laughs shaking his head. He is leaning against the railing beside you, looking out over the party. As he takes a sip of his beer, you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from him. He’s beautiful, in the most chaotic way. Turning his head, Travis catches you staring and winks at you. Your face immediately burns in embarrassment, and you turn away from him quickly pretending to be interested in the party happening around you. You don’t notice the smile that spreads across Travis’ face, and now he’s the one that can’t take his eyes off you.
“Why is it that every one of these parties ends up like this?” You sigh, face scrunching in disgust. Travis sends you a curious look, obviously not understanding what you’re talking about. “At a certain point every time, everyone seems to pair off with someone and stick their tongues down each other’s throats. It’s repulsive!” You complain, and Travis laughs loudly.
You send him a glare, and he throws his hands up in defence. “They’re just having fun Y/n/n.” He says, and you scoff at him rolling your eyes. “Oh I see! Someone’s jealous.” The smirk that seemingly never leaves his face, grows even more.
“Of what? Meaningless hookups? Absolutely not!” You roll your eyes sighing dramatically and falling into the deck chair behind you. Travis nods, dropping into the chair next to yours.
“I don’t know. Is it really meaningless?” He mutters quietly, and you shrug at him.
I'm still wide awake. I wanna stay up all night, and jump around until we see the sun
“Shouldn’t you be going to bed?” Travis chirps you after listening to you yawn for the tenth time in as many minutes.
The simple answer was absolutely. You were exhausted after a long day at work, but you didn’t want to leave Travis. Who knows how long it’d be before you got to spend time with him again? So instead you answer teasingly, “And miss out on the party? I think not! Besides, then who would you have to keep you entertained?”
“Good point. But I’d survive, don’t stay up for me.” He smiles softly over at you.
“I’m not staying up for you!” You lie, cheeks heating up again. “I’m staying up to see the sun!”
I wanna stay up all night, and find a girl, and tell her she's the one
“You ever wonder what life would be like if you hadn’t become an NHL star?” You ask after another few moments of sitting in comfortable silence. Travis turns in his chair so he’s facing you, as his face twists in contemplation.
“I’ve thought about it yeah.” He says after a moment. You smile at him, ignoring the urge to slide into his lap and just stay there.
“And what does that look like?” You ask, turning to face him leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. Travis chuckles at the level of excitement in your eyes.
“Well, I imagine I’d be here and not in Philly. Doing this exact thing I’m sure, partying with all my friends, but I could do it all the time instead of just over the summers. I’d like to have a nice home, a nice job, and settling down with ‘the one’. Y’know?” You’re so lost in him that you almost didn’t even realize he stopped talking. The truth is you did know. You knew exactly what he meant, because it’s what you wanted.
“That does sound ideal.” You nod, and before you can even stop yourself you ask him the question you’re dying to know the answer to. “So what are they like? ‘The one’ I mean.”
Travis’ eyes bore into your own with an intensity that the two of you have never shared. It’s like he’s trying to communicate the answer without speaking, but you just can’t quite grasp it. “Well,” he speaks after a moment, eyes dropping to where he picks at the label on his beer bottle. “I always pictured they’d be caring, hardworking, and smart. They’d have y/e/c eyes, and y/h/c hair. Oh and how could I forget they’d have my favourite laugh in the whole world.” Travis is blushing now, and your eyes are watering. He couldn’t be talking about you, Travis didn’t think about you that way. Right?
Hold on to the feeling, and don't let it go, 'cause we got the floor now. Get out of control
“I see you over thinking.” Travis says after a moment of you just sitting there in silence, and he smiles when he hears some stupid country love song coming through the speakers. He stands up holding his hand out for you. “Let’s just dance, and hold onto tonight. We don’t get to spend time together very often, and I don’t want to waste it okay?”
You nod, placing your now shaking hand in his. He grins down at you as he pulls you up to your feet and into his chest. You try your best to fight of the giddy feeling in your stomach, because you know this can’t last. In a few short weeks Travis will be gone back to Philly, and this, whatever this is, will be over. So you place your head on his shoulder as the two of you sway back and forth to some stupid country song.
You stay like that until you can see the first signs of the sun making it’s appearance for the day. “I lied you know.” You whisper, and Travis leans back slightly, so he can look down at you. “Earlier when I said I was staying up to see the sun and not you. I lied, I was staying up to be with you.”
#Up All Night-Series#travis konecny#travis konecny x reader#Travis Konecny fanfiction#travis konecny imagine#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl fanfic#nhl fan fiction#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fanfic#hockey fan fiction#hockey fanfiction
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Carter (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Summary: You’re a single mother, and your 12-year-old daughter, Carter, decided to track down her father.
Warnings: Mentions unsupportive asshole parents. Also language. References sex (between two underage kids) and teen pregnancy.
Notes: ....so i kinda disappeared for almost a month...and instead of updating my series i have decided to write a whole new fic... sorry? :) in my defence it says right there in my user that i only write SOMETIMES
also this is kinda an au where Spencer graduated high school at 16 instead of 12 yet somehow gets all his doctorates and joins the fbi at the same time. does the math work out? no. do i care? no.
also sorry if your name is Carter. maybe you can pretend you pulled a Lorelai Gilmore and named your kid after yourself
Word Count: 1.9k
Masterlist
“Carter!” You ran through the hallways, paying no attention to the various government agents staring as you made your way to your 12-year-old daughter. About an hour ago, you’d gotten a call from her school because she hadn’t shown up to her classes that morning, even though you’d watched her get on the bus yourself. After the longest 15 minutes of your life, you got a call that freaked you out even more; Carter had gone all the way to Quantico and was now with the FBI. You drove like a madwoman from work, especially since all the FBI Agent, Jareau, had told you over the phone call was that your daughter was safe. Now, that same agent was trying to keep up with you as you marched towards your daughter, who was sitting at a desk in the middle of a busy office.
“Miss Y/L/N, maybe we can take you guys somewhere private to-”
“Carter Rose Y/L/N, what on earth possessed you to skip school and take a field trip to the FBI?” You interrupted the agent, talking to your daughter, whose eyes were now wide in fear. You two don’t fight often- or at all, really. You’d had her when you were only 16, so sometimes your relationship danced the line around the line between mother/daughter and two sisters. This was the first, and hopefully only, time she’d done anything to make you truly angry. Instead of answering you, Carter just looked down at her hands, mumbling something. “Carter, the longer you don’t answer me, the longer you’ll be grounded.” Your voice softened just slightly, but it was enough for Carter to know how worried you’d been.
“I found dad.” Her words made your heart stop. You hadn’t thought about her dad in a long time, you wouldn’t let yourself.
“What?” Carter only looked over to the man that had been standing next to her. You hadn’t even glanced at him, you were too worried and mad at Carter. You looked up at him, and he looked at you, and you felt like your world was crashing down. Spencer Reid. You hadn’t seen him since you were 15, when he’d left to go to CalTech. He was just a couple months older than you, 16 years old, but he was already graduating high school with enough college credit to put him halfway through an undergrad degree. He was set to become one of the youngest doctors in the country. And now here he was, 12 years later. He looked at you with the same wide eyes he had all those years ago, the same look your daughter had on her face.
“Agent Jareau?” The blonde woman came back into your line of sight, but you only glanced at her before looking back to Spencer. “Can you watch Carter for a while?”
“Yeah, of course.” Carter stood up to follow Agent Jareau, but before she could walk away, your hand stopped her.
“You’re grounding starts now, C. Hand it over.” Carter begrudgingly pulled her backpack off her shoulder and opened it. First she placed her phone in your hand, then pulled out a book and handed it over as well. You glanced at the cover. You know for a fact that she finished this book yesterday, so you tucked it under your arm and held out your hand again, and waited for her to place her second book in it. A moment later, another book was in your hand, and you nodded at Agent Jareau, allowing her to take your daughter out of sight to what you assumed to be her office. Finally, you turned back to Reid.
“Hi.” You started, avoiding eye contact. You weren’t sure how to start this conversation. You never thought you’d have to have this conversation.
“Hi.” Awkward silence. Instead of looking at Spencer, you looked around the office space, and noticed that some people were staring at you and Spencer. Spencer followed your gaze, and turned back to you. “Um, those are my coworkers. We have a conference room, do you wanna talk there?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” You followed Spencer across the office and into a small conference room. You both sat down at the circular table, and Spencer opened his mouth to speak first.
“Is it true?” You only nodded in response, still not able to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You took a deep breath before looking up at him to answer. Spencer had tears developing in his eyes, and he was leaning towards you. Raising Carter on your own had been hard, but you’d never even considered how missing out on so much of her life would affect him. “You...you were going to college. You had this insane future ahead of you, and I didn’t want to ruin it. By the time I found out, you were already gone, so…”
“You left Vegas.” Spencer interrupted. “When I came home for Thanksgiving, I stopped by your parent’s house. They refused to talk to me, and said that you transferred to a boarding school.” You scoffed at your parent’s lie. Your parents were pretentious, upper-class people. They’d wanted you to “take a semester abroad,” and quietly give up the baby for adoption. You refused, so you emptied your savings account and booked a ticket to DC, where your cousin was willing to take you and the baby in. There, you finished up your GED online, got a part time job, and began to raise Carter.
“Yeah.” You paused. “She was born May 19th. She’s 12 now.” Spencer was hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth. “She reminds me a lot of you. She’s always reading, and she loves school. I would say I’m surprised that she found you, but she’s way smarter than I am.”
“You never told her about me?”
“I told her some stuff. She knows that we dated in high school, and that you went to college early. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned, so I told her that you left before I could tell you I was pregnant.”
“You could’ve told me.” Spencer didn’t seem angry, but it was very clear how upset he was.
“I know I could’ve. But I was 16, and the only person in my life that was willing to accept me and Carter was my cousin, and she was only 22 at the time. I didn’t want to reach out to you only for you to reject me too.” Your response didn’t appear to make Spencer feel much better. “Look, Spencer, you can be mad at me all you want, but it’s obvious Carter wants to get to know you. I won’t force you to be a part of her life now, but don’t cut her out because you’re mad at me.”
Before Spencer could respond, there was a knock at the door, and a brunette woman poked her head in. “Sorry, I know this is important, but we have a case. Spence, Hotch said you can stay back, work this case from here with Garcia.”
“No, I don’t want to take you away from work.” You saw a stray piece of paper on the table, and reached into your purse to grab a pen. You quickly wrote your number and address on the paper, before pushing it towards Spencer. “Work your case, and when it’s over, we can talk more. It’ll give you some time to think things through.” Spencer looked at your words on the paper, and only nodded in response.
“You daughter is in JJ’s office, I’ll walk you over.” The brunette agent said, so you followed her out to pick up Carter.
~~~
A week later, you hadn’t received any calls from Spencer. Carter asked for updates practically every hour. You were tempted to give her back her phone and books just to get her off your back about him, but she’s grounded. That means the only books she’s allowed to read are for school, but right now it feels like you’re being punished just as much as she is. You were in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you when you heard a knock on the door. “C? Can you get the door? Check the peephole first-”
“I know, I know, never open the door for strangers.” Carter interrupted you, pausing her studying in the living room to walk out of your sight and to the door. You faintly heard the sound of the door opening before Carter spoke again. “Mom? Can Dad stay for dinner?” The mention of Spencer shocked you, and caused you to trip over your own feet and hit your knee against one of the cabinets.
“Shit!” You said loudly, reaching down to rub your hand against what would quickly become a bruise. Just as this happened, Carter and Spencer entered the room. Carter with a large smile on her face.
“That’s a dollar in my jar!” She said happily, grabbing your wallet from the counter and handing it to you.
“Yeah, I know.” You rolled your eyes, pulling a dollar out and handing it to her so she could put it in her jar.
“Mom and I each have a jar, and at the end of the month we go shopping with whatever money we have. Whenever she swears, I get a dollar, and whenever I do, she gets a dollar.” Carter explained for Spencer, then lowered her voice to a whisper, that you still easily hear, “I always have more money to spend.”
“Hey! That’s not true!” You defended yourself, even though you know she’s right. While the swear jar had easily stopped your daughter from using foul language (that she’d picked up from you), you had a lot more trouble holding your tongue.
“If your language is anything like it was in high school, then Carter is probably right.” Spencer joked, causing Carter to laugh.
“You know I don’t have to feed you two, I can eat all of this myself.” You responded, turning back to your stove.
“You wouldn’t!” Carter gasped, which caused you to laugh, giving yourself away.
“Ok, ok, you’re right. This time.” You paused for a moment, “Hey C, Spencer likes reading almost as much as you do. Why don’t you grab one of your favorites from the shelf for him to read?” Carter clearly liked this idea, because she was running to her room in an instant, yelling facts about her favorite book from her room. You knew you’d only have a minute alone with Spencer, so you turned away from the food and back to him. “Are you sure?” You asked.
You could tell from the look on Spencer’s face that he understood exactly what you meant. Once he decides to be Carter’s dad, he can’t go back. You were giving him an out.
“Yes.” He answered, with more confidence than you’d ever seen from him.
“Good.” You said, with a small smile ghosting your face. Just as quickly as she left, Carter came bounding back into the room, carrying 5 books instead of the one you’d suggested.
“I couldn’t choose a favorite book. I read kind of fast, but you can borrow these for as long as you want! I don’t mind sharing.”
“Oh yeah? How fast did you read these?” Spencer asked, looking over the book descriptions on the back.
“I usually read a book a day. Sometimes I finish books in a few hours if they’re interesting enough.”
“Impressive! Maybe one day you’ll be on my level.” Spencer bragged. You tuned out of the conversation as Spencer began talking about how fast he reads, and how Carter could learn to read faster. You just watched them, enjoying the fact that for the first time ever, Carter could have a dad. And maybe, with time, you’ll end up being some kind of family.
~~~
taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac
#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid au
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There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought Of It Yet by Panic! at the Disco- Jason Todd
a/n: Every fic I’ve written so far either involves Tim or is about Jason’s death and idk what that says about me but it’s nothing good.
taglist: @river9noble
Master
-
“Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman/From that moment you'll be out of place and underdressed/I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it/Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and…”
“Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?/Never looked better, and you can't stand it.”
“And I know/And I know/It just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up/I've never been so surreptitious/So of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch.”
-
Tim pulled at the tie that seemed to tighten like a noose around his neck irritably, looking around at all the guests chattering and laughing and drinking all of the expensive champagne. “Why do I need to be here?”
“You’re the CEO.” Dick shot him a confused look. “You’re probably the only one contractually obligated to be here.”
“Bruce threw the banquet,” Tim sat up in his seat a bit, glancing around as if the lack of attention proved his point. “None of them want to talk to me anyways. They all want to talk to Bruce.”
“That’s because you’re 17,” Dick pointed out, sipping his own punch and wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste. “It’s hard to take a 17 year old seriously.”
“Well which is it?” Tim demanded. “Am I the CEO contractually obligated to be here for the company, or the 17 year old son of Bruce Wayne forced to be here by his dad?”
“Both.” Dick shrugged.
Tim glared at his freshly shined shoes. “Why doesn’t Damian have to be here then?”
“Because he’s 13.” Dick sighed irritably. “Would you just stop complaining? I came so you wouldn’t be alone, but I’ll happily go find someone else to talk to if you’re not even going to try and have a good time tonight.”
Tim turned his glare to Dick who raised his hands in defence, standing up and grabbing his glass along the way. He moved over to the first group he saw, falling into easy conversation with the socialites, just like he always did.
“That Dick Grayson sure grew up handsome,” Tim heard a woman say to his left.
“Oh, he certainly did. He’s so good with the crowd- is he running the company now?” Another woman asked.
“He should be. Somehow Bruce’s teenager got CEO, and poor Dick was left with nothing.” A third woman tsked.
“Teenager?” The second asked, surprised.
“I heard he’s only 15, I mean, what was Bruce thinking?” The first scoffed.
“I’m 17,” Tim blurted, turning to look at the women.
The women at least had the courtesy to look guilty, but he suspected it wasn’t a genuine reaction. He could see the way they looked at him.
They mumbled some half-hearted apologies and shuffled away awkwardly, and he was once again alone. Tim groaned, crossing his arms, slumping in his seat. He knew realistically, Dick would be the most logical choice. He’s personable, outgoing, and older than Tim was. But Dick had enough on his plate, and to Tim’s knowledge, absolutely no desire to be involved in Wayne Enterprises to begin with, let alone be the CEO.
Tim just wanted to go home.
“Good evening pricks of Gotham!” A familiar voice called through the crowd, and Tim looked up surprised.
There was a collection of gasps and whispers as Jason and Roy strolled through the crowd. Roy was greeting people he recognized from his days with Oliver Queen, dressed in a red silk button up tucked into his black dress pants, the black suit jacket thrown on over top, unbuttoned. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and it looked like he at least tried with his hair, having thrown it back into a neat half up, half down style. However, Tim could see the Vans from here.
Jason on the other hand, was in a black button up and black jeans, with his signature brown leather jacket over top and sunglasses on. His combat boots were untied, like he couldn’t even be bothered to do the simple task. He acknowledged no one, not even Dick or Bruce’s horrified expressions.
“Go about your business folks,” Jason commanded, waving his hand dismissively.
Tim didn’t need to see his eyes to know Jason had his gaze locked onto him. He sat up a little and couldn’t help the little smirk creep up onto his face. Jason and Roy certainly knew how to make an entrance.
Jason plopped into the seat across from Tim, grinning at his brother.
“Hey baby bird, quite the party you’ve got going on here.”
“I’m glad you got the invite.” Tim chuckled. “It was difficult sneaking it past Bruce, Dick and Alfred.”
“Well, you know if it was anyone else’s name at the bottom I would’ve ignored it completely,” Jason shrugged, taking his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “How’s it going anyways?”
Tim’s face morphed into a scowl. “I hate these things. No one wants to talk to me, and most of them either don’t believe that I’m the CEO or think it’s Dick.”
Jason raised his eyebrow. “Tim, you are the smartest person in this room. You’ve done more for the company in your short time than Bruce did in all his years. That’s why he’s kept you on.”
“Maybe,” Tim sighed. “No one else knows that though.”
Jason shrugged. “They will.” He smirked. “But don’t worry baby bird, you won’t have to deal with this banquet much longer.”
Tim eyed Jason warily. “Are you going to get us arrested?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t tarnish your record like that,” Jason shrugged and looked up as Roy came over. “Is it done?”
“Yeah, just say the word.” Roy grinned and plopped down beside Jason. “Hey Tim, how’s it going?”
“What are you gonna do Roy?” Tim raised his eyebrow.
“Nothing you can prove.” Roy winked before looking out over the crowd.
As if on cue, the lights all shut off, nothing but the emergency lights on. The fire alarms blared, and people were tripping over themselves to get out of the building. Tim, Jason and Roy melted into the crowd, effectively exiting the building and avoiding Bruce and Dick in the process.
Tim tried to hide his grin and look worried for show, but he suspected he wasn’t doing a very good job.
Roy was already gone, probably to get the car, when Tim turned around to face his brother.
“Thanks Jay,” Tim said sincerely.
“For what?” He scoffed. “I didn’t do it for you, I just like messing with Bruce.” Jason rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
Tim didn’t buy it. He knew Jason better than that by now.
“Well, thank you anyways.” Tim insisted quietly, looking around.
“Hey, Tim,” Jason started after a moment. “If you ever want to get out of these things without the dramatics, you tell Bruce you’ve got a... “ Jason looked around, as if remembering their surroundings- he couldn’t exactly bring up Tim’s night time activities. “Previous engagement. Me and Roy are going to be doing a lot more... traveling, and I wouldn’t mind having you along.” He offered.
Tim nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jason nodded back, admittedly a little awkward, and looked to where Roy was waiting with the car. “That’s my ride.” A pause. “And, seriously Tim. You’re 17 and the CEO of one of the richest companies in the country. Fucking own that shit, okay? Some of these people can only dream of being as successful as you.”
Tim processed that for a moment and nodded slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind too.”
Jason glanced over at Roy again and back to Tim. “Catch ya later baby bird.” He said, and with that, Jason was gone.
“I knew that ass showed up to cause trouble.” Dick’s voice came from behind Tim, who shrugged.
“Could be worse.” He said simply and thought about it before moving past Dick, and past Bruce who was getting ready to step up and calm the crowd, and up onto the bottom step so he was raised a little over the crowd.
“Everyone, please, remain calm,” Tim called out, raising his hands, trying to exude as much Jason confidence and Dick charisma and Bruce charm as possible, even adding an easy going Roy smile at the end. “The fire department should be on it’s way, but I’ve been informed that there was no fire, it was merely the new system adapting to the building. So please, relax, and once we are officially cleared, everyone can leave, with a bottle of the wonderful champagne you were all trying with the punch, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises for your troubles.”
Everyone was murmuring and nodding and giving him all their attention. Tim stepped down and back into the crowd.
“So he is the CEO,” he heard one of the women from earlier whisper as he passed.
“Wayne Enterprises is in good hands.” The second whispered back, and Tim’s posture straightened with pride.
He should invite Jason to banquets more often.
#thebatfamplaylist#jason todd#red hood#roy harper#tim drake#red robin#arsenal#bruce wayne#dick grayson#nightwing#batman#batfam#batfamily#dc#dc comics#sometimes I forget Tim is a fucking CEO???
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a smorgasbord of unbidden thoughts / highlights (long post ahead!):
we’re slowly creeping out of the lockdown, and we’re allowed to go out for meals now! I got to meet a friend for dinner on Monday and he treated me to some amazing Italian fare as a belated birthday gift :’) I was really craving Italian after watching Luca and I haven’t had good pasta in a long while, so that was really nice. I also met a friend for dinner today after work, and we’re just glad to have made it to Friday tbh lmao. it was nice catching up again after so long and talking about everything under the sun (in this case, under the moon). I love spending time alone and having time myself, but I can’t deny that I’ve also missed interacting with other sentient life forms lmao.
I managed to re-schedule my vaccine slots, and I'm getting my first shot tomorrow! fingers crossed it won’t be too bad (I still wanna be able to type through the soreness 😩). I'm a little nervous tbh because I absolutely detest needles, but I feel like at this point I just don’t care anymore LMAO. it also helps that my bf and I got the same vaccination slot, so I guess I'll just make a ruckus and be a nuisance if things go south. jk
next week’s my last full week of work before my two-month break begins! I'm really excited to finally get a breather from work (although to be fair I've only been working for like... 6 months lmao rip) before things get real hectic in September haha. I'm definitely not looking forward to the added responsibilities, and i’m honestly not sure how to feel about getting called to the bar because everyday is just a flurry of shit, am I really cut out for this and help, work is dulling my * sparkle * and yo, you think I can just move somewhere west and be a country singer? but oh well. too late I guess. I'm too deep in debt to get out now LMAO. jk
on the bright side, though, I received news today that I’ve been designated to my preferred area of practice for my next seat :) and i'm pretty excited about that! I've honestly been feeling pretty desiccated about the law ever since starting practice because it’s so different from whatever I've studied and something that college couldn’t have possibly prepared me for lmao (many thoughts but I don’t want to turn this into an essay so I will simply project my feelings onto my favourite war criminals)
it’s been a struggle to create lately, for various reasons. these days it feels like anything I make is woefully inadequate and subpar and mediocre, and i’m just. constantly torn between striking everything out altogether and desperately wanting to be better, to feel better. I felt a little burnt out after royai week because I was rushing to complete so many projects and ideas on time (I do tend to get a little overambitious and overzealous that way, haha), and so I tried to take a break, but I couldn’t properly rest, either, because these days I only feel alive when I'm... creating. LOL. it's like an unresolvable paradox where I slog to feel alive and then feel like death, and then feel like I'm wasting away and wasting time when I'm being unproductive and fruitless. idk, man. it’s probably the productivity guilt acting up or something. it doesn’t help that my mind is an unholy mix of anxiety and imposter syndrome and perfectionism, either, or that inspiration only strikes me at the ungodliest of hours. I find that it’s easier to write when I've cleared everything else on my plate, but sometimes it’ll be midnight by the time I've done that because there’s just so much to do. I end up writing at two in the morning and/or recording snippets of a putative song while half-asleep (the result is usually pretty dang awful, because I have no idea what I was saying when I listen to it the next day lmao).
I also find it to difficult to alternate between so many forms of writing. my job mostly consists of reading and writing (mostly boring and terribly dreary stuff, because lawyers have apparently never heard of punctuation or one-liners, and I am 100% proving this right now with my streams of consciousness), and my hobbies primarily include that, too. I've also been struggling to switch between writing prose/fic and poems and songs because i tend to focus on different things. (I also have the attention span of a goldfish. or a confused rat.) like, I focus a lot more on how things flow for the first, how things look for the second, and how things sound for the third, if that makes sense? but I also literally cannot focus on one thing at a time so everything is just a half-written mess and a smattering of my illegible scrawls tbh 😞 I'm hoping that I'll have more time to sit down and properly sort these out one at a time during my break hahaha.
that being said, I read something this week about the four stages of learning a new skill LOL iirc it goes (1) unconscious incompetence (2) conscious incompetence (3) conscious competence (4) unconscious incompetence? I find that I'm stuck at (2) atm for a lot of things, which is probably why it’s so hard to go forth and do the damn thing without descending into a spiral of self-doubt haha. the truth is I rely on external reassurances and validation a great deal to tide me through, because my mind is just so used to criticising myself for everything and being my own harshest critic that it’s become a challenge to objectively assess my own work. it’s probably a defence mechanism to feeling like failure is not an option and/or my upbringing or something, and it’s how I’ve coped with a lot of things, but I'm also coming to realise that it’s not always the healthiest way to live haha.
BUT, you know. at the end of the day it’s a hobby and it’s supposed to be fun and joy-inducing and. it’s so easy to ruin all of that in the process of pursuing perfection so. I think i’ll just work on attempting the damn thing and worrying about it afterwards 🤠 (and also being less exacting on myself haha)
ending things on a lighter and brighter note - I received a lovely surprise from a friend this week!! I ordered some earrings from her (the stuff she makes is the stuff of DREAMS) and she tossed in a necklace for me and it’s just. it’s beautiful. it’s handmade. it’s astounding. I'm weeping.
#personal#not fma#sorry this turned out to be such a long ramble lmao... I've just been keeping these thoughts to the back of my mind#and it's Friday night so I'm unleashing them from the vault LMAO#anyway I'm off to bed!!! <3 I hope y'all have a lovely weekend mwahmwahMWAH
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tl;dr: dissatisfied with future spy prospects, thalia becomes a hitman for hire, but fulfills none of her contracts, instead, murdering who she thinks deserves it. acting god is a tough pursuit, and soon, she finds herself with more hits on her than she can keep up with. sensing something ominous, she cashes in her friendship favour with seb and asks him to wait for her while she goes in. greeted by her father, who shoots her upon sight, it takes several moments to realize she’s got the upper hand and his intention is not to kill her. his life relies on her death, any sort. left with an envelope of documents that secures her with a new identity, she lets him live by faking her own death. tw: violence, death, murder.
suggested listening : dissociation by timber timbre
her second year was formative, transformative only in retrospect — coming into herself, adding shadows to a figure that remained an outline for so long. she doesn’t know it then, her unbridled fear of her father is a chronic ache, where the symptoms can only be subdued by obedience. he’ll never tell her what he wants, from her, of her — if she did, she’d do it in a heartbeat. instead, she tries every salve, grades that’ll grow into job offers, a bulletproof arrogance that grows into a threat against her father : the threat that she doesn’t need him ( she does ). a distaste for authority fosters in the place of love, and she thinks about the man-made book, the power of an individual. she thinks about how rules are so easily manipulated by emotion, finding herself far more impressed by the disregard to rule shown by the gallagher students who broke the caledonia students out than her own assignment, herding them back with only a grade as her impetus.
dad signs her out a day before graduation. her absence from the ceremony doesn’t cause a stir, she’s well on her way to nothingness. her patience is not rewarded when she stares at the rearview mirror, waiting for him to glance at it and see her, not out of choice, but safety when changing lanes. he uses his side mirror. ‘ i have interviews. ’ she broaches on the plane, when it’s already too late — she figures he already knows and if he’d wanted her to attend them she wouldn’t be crossing the atlantic. she spends an entire summer waiting for him. the doors aren’t locked but she’s housetrained. and one day she leaves, and he doesn’t follow. she’s well on her way.
a dead-eyed gaze falls on the man leaning over to peer through the half rolled down window. she’s enlightened, if he shoots she’ll pinch the bullet between her fingertips. ‘ been waiting a long time for you. he got you locked up in there ? ’ she shrugs in response. ‘ the illusive daughter. got quite the price on you. ’ if he was going to kill her he would have done so already, villains have speeches — murderers have guns, and this guy hasn’t shut up. ‘ sure. ’ she concedes, tugging on the locked door, head cocked with impatience. can’t find the niceties in her to revel in his confusion, when it’s keeping her from her life. ‘ i’ll work for you. ’ thalia hall cares so little about the state of her affairs that she falls asleep on the road to nowhere. her slumber is dreamless and she wakes up feeling refreshed.
her life becomes a wash of blurred vignettes, she’s only ever caught in motion and the camera can’t focus. the only time she stills is when she’s making up her mind as to whether the victim of a contract deserves death — it’s a clinical ordeal, clerical even, thumbing through the pages with a pensive, far off gaze, deciding a future for strangers she’s never met, deciding it by their actions alone. none of this is protocol, but what’s the point in cozying up to rule ? the man who had hired her could have just as easily killed her, and their alliance is arbitrary, so when she ‘goes rogue’ ( which is a generous term considering she had never given any indication of being loyal to begin with ), she kills with the poor motive of self-defence. after that, time lapses — she abides by catnaps and can’t catch a sunset without the haze of fatigued eyes, paranoia spiked adrenaline, enough caffeine to send her into cardiac arrest, a lit fuse she can’t put out.
dad appears like the light at the end of a tunnel. there is a finality to this. and she is at peace. in some ways she knew it would end like this, just as how she knows iphigenia’s fate was not sealed in the moment agamemnon decided to sacrifice her but instead the moment aeschylus was born. there is no decision in her life that led to this moment other than the simple blessing of entering life.
‘ are you going to kill me ? ’
‘ are you going to kill me ? ’
a flash of confusion appears on her face, she’s always been the pawn but she feels the gut wrenching pull up the board. checkmate. he’s not going to kill her — but she can kill him without pulling the trigger. going to — future tense. if he was never going to fulfill his contract, he’s already dead. thalia hall is either speaking to her father’s ghost, or he knows that he is going to fulfill it. with her help. in the time it takes to parse this information, he has his arms around her, his affection has always acted as a straitjacket but she mistakes them as his hugs, and it feels nice. secure, swaddled by a tight blanket. so she sobs, piercing wails that would rival a newborn, because she’s not sure how it ended up like this and if only he’d tried, even just a little, it wouldn’t be like this. she hates him. she hates him so much. when her cries let up to take a breath, he interjects.
‘ another life. go on now. i’ll see you in the one after. ’ in the years looking back, her belief as to whether it was a threat or a consolation will ebb and flow. she’ll squeeze her eyes shut and study the feeling, of how he pressed the passport against the wound he inflicted, then remember the tenderness with which he kissed the top of her head. her freedom indebted. she should have let him die but she loves him. maybe in the next one he’ll be kinder. or she’ll be crueller. part of her wants to release the pressure that her palm holds and find out now. thalia hall survives out of spite.
and because of sebastian. who she’s always likened to a dog, and she can’t leave him there, waiting dumbly in an idling car. not when she can’t remember if she left the window open. she does her best not to let her knees buckle before she clambers into the passenger side of his car, her head pressed against the rest trying to mute the throb that feels like someone’s punching her skull from the inside out, both hands pressed above her hip, closed eyes. ‘ you wanna go back to yours ? i’ll take my clothes off for you. ’ the joke slips from her with an uncanny ease, like she’s forgotten how to be. he stitches her back together again, and she leaves without saying goodbye because she’ll see him in the next one. thalia wipes down the cover of her bloodstained passport in the stall of a public toilet, a stuttered breath as her eyes trail over her new name, her new place of birth, her new country of citizenship — not inhabiting someone new, but returning to the old, what was once forgotten. stepping into a shadow that was one pace behind her, waiting for her to come home. her life was never sustainable, but maybe this one could be. she’ll tend to her roots with a gentle hand, and start a garden.
#i had 70% of both her n luce's paras done b4 the rp closed icb this happened bt We got there in the end :')#i wanna say ill have finished luce's by the end of the week. i wld like to say that yes.
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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞 ⇾ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞
pairings ⇾ bucky barnes x genderneutral reader
summary ⇾ takes place during infinity war, reader has powers but doesn't understand the full extent, they stay in Wakanda with Bucky where a relationship blossoms
warnings ⇾ mentions of violence, battles, SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR.
a/n ⇾ this is the first part of a 2 part series! Thank you for requesting the idea anon and I really hope you don’t mind that I’ve written this in two parts! I really hope you like it 💗
*not my gif, full credit goes to the owner*
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Thanos, the name everyone dreaded to hear after the pain and sadness he caused when wiping out half the universe. He craved destruction, he thought genocide was a small price to pay for civilisation. He thought he was the world’s saviour, the titan who could restore peace and harmony to the universe but in reality he was doing the exact opposite. Instead he caused pain and suffering, making things worse than they already were.
Being a part of the Avengers wasn’t so easy, especially when they decided to have one of the biggest fights where you were forced to choose between your two best friends.
You fought with Steve, no matter what happened you knew Bucky didn’t do what the media were saying he did, Steve was sure of it. You fought with him, becoming a fugitive and using every power you could to help him. That’s how you met Bucky.
After the events of the Sokovia Accords and the fight between Tony and Steve, you were a fugitive, you couldn’t return home nor could you stay anywhere else so you went with Steve and Bucky to Wakanda.
Wakanda was beautiful. The city was beaming with sound and colour, the people happy and friendly around you. King Tchala was more than welcoming, he quickly became a friend even though he fought against you. He knew he needed to make up for the mistake he made, blaming Bucky for his father’s death and he offered him every ounce of help he could which all of you were grateful for.
Soon, Steve left and it was just you and Bucky, well just you for a while. Bucky went back into Cryofreeze, he couldn’t trust his own mind, he thought it would be safer for him and everyone else until Shuri found a way to either calm the triggers of Hydra or take them away completely. It was pretty lonely for a while but you became pretty close with Shuri, helping her in any way possible to figure out how to get the trigger words out of Bucky’s tormented mind.
When Bucky came out of Cryo things were still pretty hard for him but you were there every step of the way to help him through it. You were there for every nightmare, every bad day, every good day and to keep him company. You’d always had a connection with Bucky, you’d always gotten on like a house on fire and throughout this time it only strengthened the connection between the two of you. When he first asked you out you were shocked but you struggled to hide the excitement you felt when he did. He took you on a few dates, Tchala helped him to organise little dinners and long walks around the most beautiful parts of Wakanda: things were amazing. Bucky asked you to be his girlfriend and there was no way on any universe you were going to say no, you were falling head over heels for him and there was nothing that could stop you.
Bucky was doing good, he spent most days with you in the little mud hut in a little place not fair from the main city within Wakanda and it was beautiful. You spent every day helping him with memories and chores around the place, making sure the goats were fed and things were tidy. It was peaceful and calm, the perfect place to be.
You and Bucky both knew something bad was coming when Tchala came down to the hut himself with a shiny, new, powerful arm for Bucky. You both got ready for the battle ahead, Tchala explained the situation, how Thanos wanted to destroy half the universe after he could his hands on all six infinity stones. Your job was to not let that happen.
You hoped to Steve again in better circumstances so Bucky could tell him how far he’s come and the progress that he’s fought so hard to make but there wasn’t anytime. Thanos’ armies were on their way and approaching fast. The lead up to battle was always the worst, Shuri was sure she could take the stone out of vision without killing him but she was going to need a lot of time and we didn’t know how much time we could give her.
When you stood next to Bucky looking out at the unsettling amount of battleships and armies ready to plague the lands of Wakanda with blood and death; you couldn’t help but let the anxiety rise within you. Your heart began to race and your palms began to sweat at the thought of death. You weren’t afraid to die personally but all your friends, the love of your life and the people you trust the most were going into this battle which created the fear of experiencing loss and grief. You turned to Bucky, studying his features for a little while, the way his hair fell just above his shoulders, how his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked straight ahead and the way his eyes sparkled a bright blue against the gazing sun. You took everything in and did your best to burn it into your memory so that you wouldn’t ever forget him if either you died or if the worse happened to him.
“Be careful” He whispered to you, only just about loud enough for you to hear as you turned your head to smile at him.
“You too baby” You smile in return, quickly both of your focusses shifting back onto the fight ahead.
Everyone prepared for battle, our faces coldy staring at the killing machines being held back by the bright blue ray shield surrounding the whole country whilst we assumed our positions ready to face the armies of Thanos. When Tchala gave the instruction to open the shield on his command you pushed any anxieties or bad thoughts to the back of your mind, summoning your powers as everyone began running towards where the opening of the shield will be.
You ran as fast as your legs would take you easily sprinting past the warriors of wakanda as Tchala instructed the commanders to open the section 17 of the ray shield. The monsters came flooding in, Steve and Tchala jumping quite literally into battle as you landed the first blow to your target, pulling the animal apart with your powers before moving onto the next. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you were largely outnumbered, the animals bred for a single purpose outnumbering you by the thousands. The monsters came flying at you multiple at a time as you did your best to fight them off using a mixture of your powers and hand to hand combat Bucky and Steve had taught you.
The monsters numbers only kept increasing, it seemed like you took one down another three followed, You did everything you could but it was starting to become a little overwhelming, not only just for you but for everyone else on the battlefield also. There were simply too many enemies replacing the ones already taken down.
“We can’t hold them much longer” You said over COMS before being taken down by a group of them. You kicked, punched, slashed and used your powers to push them off you but more joined and it was no use. Until, an axe came flying through the air, lightning currents following in pursuit of it as the enemies were killed and no longer surrounded you. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, letting out a stiffened groan as you looked to the rainbow bifrost burning a hole into the surface soon revealing a new, handsome looking Thor with what looked like a raccoon on his back and a tree stood just beside him. You smiled widely, reinforcements had arrived and things were looking up.
“You guys are so screwed now!” Banner shouted excitedly from the hulk buster suit. You chuckled to yourself briefly distracted from the fight but a cry from one of the monsters hurtling towards you brought you back into reality.
You returned to fighting doing everything you could to take down as many as the blood hungry animals that came to you. It was exhausting, battle always was. You occasionally looked over Bucky’s way making sure he was okay, little did you know he was doing the same thing for you.
You scanned the battle field looking for anyone who could potentially need your help whilst continuing to fight off the ones you could. You spotted Nat and Okeye entering the path of a Thresher. You panicked beginning to run in their direction to stop the Thresher from shredding them when Wanda flew down from the tower, landing directly in front of them, eyes glowing a bright red as the red strings of power flow from her hands to stop the machine dead in its tracks; destroying it in the process.
“Why was she up there all this time?” Okoye asks as you chuckle softly almost instantly being attacked again.
You moved on, now fighting side by side with Bucky and taking down all the enemies that threatened to get near him. Vision was now unguarded and shuri was exposed meaning that there was no line of defence left for the stone.
“Guys we’ve got a vision situation here” Sam says throw COMS doing his best to get to vision but the enemies were still flowing through the hole in the protective shield.
“Somebody get to vision!” Steve shouts tirelessly through COMS.
You sprint through the battlefield, punching, kicking and taking everything down in your way preventing you from getting to vision and to the stone. Bruce had already gotten there in the hopes to stop the enemy and you only could run as fast as your legs would take you.
Bruce had been side tracked meaning Vision was still alone with Corvus Glaive, vision was weak from the interfacing Shuri had been attempting leaving him even more vulnerable. You arrived with Vision, tackling Corvus to the ground and throwing him away from the both of you as you stood back up.
“Get outta here” You say waving your hand for him to go before Corvus begins to attack you. You blocked his staff with your arms, using all the strength you had to push back, you land a few good blows, earning him a large cut to his cheek. Steve joins as you both begin to fight him, using the gaps in one anothers fight patterns to defend yourselves. You were thrown against a tree, groaning in pain when the hard, rough exterior of the tree scraped down your back, winding you as Steve struggled also. He did all he could but it wasn’t going to be enough, you tried our best to push yourself up in time but Vision had beaten you to the saviour role, pushing his own blade through Corvus’ chest killing him instantly. You let out a sigh of relief, finally managing to push yourself up as you walked over to the two of them.
“I thought she told you to go” Steve says, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
“We don’t trade lives Captain” Vision replies looking between the two of you as you nodded slightly.
Shortly after the others joined you. Bucky instantly made his way over to you to check you over, making sure you were okay. You reassured him you were fine, smiling softly to him.
“He’s here” Vision announces as your heart drops and anxiety increases.
“Everyone on my position, we have incoming.” Steve states through COMS.
A dust like cloud filled with blue, black and purple colours appears just above the ground before Thanos steps through.
“Cap that’s him” Bruce confirms
“Eyes up, stay sharp.” Steve says, getting ready with his shield to fight even with the little odds stacked against us.
Bruce reached Thanos first, jumping at him but Thanos uses the space stone to his advantage forcing Bruce to be submerged in the stone wall of the cliff behind him. Before Steve can even reach Thanos he is thrown aside with ease. Tchala is next, he leaps into the air high with his claws extended ready to land a blow but Thanos catches him by his throat, punching him into the ground violently. Sam also tries but once again Thanos uses another stone to stop him from coming anywhere near him to injure him, sending him pummeling to the ground.
Vision and Wanda needed time to destroy the stone, you were planning on doing everything you could to buy them some time. You lunged at Thanos, landing a few blows to chest and face as you slipped through his legs, attacking his back at the point with knives that did very little but it was giving Wanda enough time to destroy the stone. You went to jump at him again, unfortunately you were caught within range of a stone meaning you were flung away from him and to the ground.
Rhodey began open firing at Thanos but it was of no use, the iron suit crushed around as he hit the ground with a harsh thud. Bucky then tries his luck, firing his gun at every possible spot but was flung away but yet another stone. Okoye and Nat try also but both were sent flying away from him. Vines of bark wrap around his purple limbs holding him down for a few seconds before the vines from Groot are crushed and Thanos is once again free.
Wanda had almost finished destroying the stone, the hurt in her cries evident as she continues to destroy the one she loves. Thanos was dangerously close to her, she used every ounce of power to hold him back and continue to destroy the stone. The yellow stone in Vision's mind begins to crack. Visions face overcome with an expression of peace as the yellow crystal fragments completely. A pulse of yellow energy explodes from him, shuddering the trees around you for many meters.
“I understand my child, better than anyone” Thanos speaks to Wanda
“You could never” Wanda snarls.
“Today I lost more than you can know. But now is no time to mourn. Now is not time at all” Thanos says reaching forward, he clenches the gauntlet, using the emerald green time stone. The yellow energy starts to appear in reverse, time reversing as an alive Vision comes back.
“No!” Wanda shouts as she lunges for Vision but is thrown away with no effort at all.
Thanos lifts Vision by his throat, no remorse or guilt plastered on his face and he digs the fingers of his right hand around the stone, digging the stone from his head. The stone is released from Visions mind, his body goes limp and colourless. Thanos tosses him aside like he was a piece of litter. He raises his gauntlet placing the stone in the last empty spot. The surge of energy is extremely powerful, his torso is wreathed with iridescent static as a cry leaves his throat trying to contain the power he was given.
Thanos drops to one knee trying to maintain control of the power of the infinity stones when Thor lands in front of him burying his ake deep into his chest.
“I told you, You’d die for that” Thor snarls, nothing but anger and hate laced through his voice.
Thor takes hold of Thanos’ head, burying stormbreaker even further into his chest, staring angrily into his eyes as Thanos lets out a cry of pain.
“You should have.. You…. You should have gone for the head” Thanos says, suddenly regaining strength as he raises the gauntlet once, this time snapping his fingers.
“NO!” Thor shouts in despair.
“What’d you do? WHAT”D YOU DO?” Thor says angrily to Thanos. He merely takes no notice of him, as he uses the Space Stone, teleporting away, leaving the stormbreaker behind on the dusty wakandan ground.
“Where’d he go? Thor… where’d he go” Stve says, trembling slightly as he clings to his left side.
“Y/n? Steve?” Your head snaps towards Bucky, his voice full of confusion and panic as he stumbles over, dropping his gun. He turns to dust, his body no longer there leaving nothing but a pile of ash on the floor. You run over, collapsing onto the floor taking a pile of the ash into your hand as it begins to evaporate disbelievingly.
“No, this cannot be happening, he can’t be gone.. Please no come back Bucky please” You whisper searching through the ash for something, hope maybe but there was none to be found. He was gone.
Many others around you begin to fall to dust, disappearing into the abyss as you all watch in disbelief. Steve, Thor, Rhodey, Nat, Bruce, Rocket and you were the only ones left standing. Steve moves to Visions, lifeless body collapsing next to him. You stayed where Bucky once was, your heart aching in your chest as tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe nor did you want to believe he was gone.
“What is this? What the hell is happening?” Rhodey asks just as confused as everyone else.
“Oh god!” Was all Steve managed to say as he breathlessly sat with his hand on Vision's corpse.
𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮!
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