#none of them are ever going to talk about this again
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This is pretty much what I've been saying. This country hates women more than it hates that fascist rapist.
This country literally chose a rapist over the countless women he's assaulted. This country chose a rapist over their own daughters. Our country looked at the man that promised that we 'wouldn't need to worry about voting ever again' and 'we'll use the military against the enemies within' and said yes, we prefer this over an educated woman.
Our country and our men hate us. Our women hate themselves. I don't even understand how we could allow this asshole back into office, and yet here we are. Again. Everyone except rich, white men are going to get their rights ripped away from them. This orange asshole is more prepared this time and the people who voted for Trump, third party, or didn't bother to vote at all are at fault.
And I am very angry at that group. And moving forward I will be very unsympathetic with that group moving forward.
So many people are going to lose their lives because of that. (I'm not talking to any minors or people who were unable to vote due to external reasons mind you).
NO. your gas won't be cheaper. But thank you for letting me know that my rights and my life mean so fucking little to you.
NO. you still won't be able to buy a house. But thank you for letting me know you're okay with the women in your lives being raped.
I think my parents said it best, men get to choose the next mother of their children now, repercussions be damned. Because there really won't be any. Look at our next president! He IS a rapist and apparently none of you give a singular fuck.
The men in my hometown are excited because of this by the way. And they talk about it, you can hear them in stores and public areas. So fuck you.
If you voted for Trump? Unfollow me and block me.
If you voted for third party? Unfollow me and block me.
If you didn't vote at all and you could have? Unfollow me and block me.
I DO NOT want to be associated with ANYONE that is okay with people losing their rights and their lives. My page is not a safe fucking space for you and it will never be a safe space for you.
Women I think it's time to partake in the B4 movement. I touched on it last night in a different post but it's time. It's a movement that started in South Korea. Here's what it entails. We don't date men, we don't marry men, we don't have sex with men, and we don't have children with men.
If and when you look it up, it is NOT a radical movement. We are seeing exactly why South Korean women partook in this movement.
Even IF Kamala had won, the amount of votes, especially from men proved to me that we were never as safe or cared for as we thought and have been told and I'm over it.
It's time to be angry and stand together as women. Men don't like us anyway. I am leaning into 4B. Leave your shitty husband's before Trump takes office if you can. It's time to be angry.
both times this fucking asshole, this fucking fascist criminal is gonna become president is after winning against women. not against a party or ideology but women. people really do hate women huh. a fascist is okay. a criminal is okay. everything he says, does and represents is okay. just as long as it's not a woman leading the country.
#us election#election 2024#presidential election#politics#B4 Movement#womens rights#women#democrat#republican#2024#kamala harris#donald trump#lgbtq#anger#usa politics#usa news#election
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@teagantheamazing Hope you don't mind, but I wanted to pull this reply out to talk about a little more in depth, because I think it is important that people understand this as we move forward.
Also, I am speaking as a private citizen here, not as an employee of the Forest Service.
In the United States, wildland fire response is handled at three basic levels: Federal, State, and Local.
Federally, it is further broken down into the Bureau of Land Management and the Forest Service. (Some parks have their own fire crews as well, but that varies from park to park, and they're usually still technically Forest Service.) There's really not a ton of difference between the two aside from whose name is on your paycheck. Pay is the same across each, structure is the same across each, training is the same across each. Federal crews and resources are, generally, the main and biggest responders to wildfires because wildfires tend to happen primarily on federal lands.
At the state and local level things vary a lot from state to state. You can have things like the Colorado Division of Fire Prevention and Control in Colorado and Cal Fire in California, and you can have local structure departments that also have wildland divisions and/or training. Some of the local departments will be volunteer. State and local responders also work closely with federal responders, but how much and for how long varies from fire to fire.
Then, on top of all of that, you have private/contract crews. They are what it says on the tin: private crews of firefighters. Some of these crews are great! Very professional, very skilled. Others are...ah...not.
Now, what I am concerned about specifically as we head into this new administration is what is going to happen at the federal level. As I mentioned in the original post, the Forest Service is already struggling. It has ALWAYS been struggling. Without giving you a whole huge history lesson, the Forest Service was founded in the early 1900s by Teddy Roosevelt to protect public lands and preserve them for future use. People threw a FIT about it, specifically people who wanted to basically strip mine the forests for every single available resource. Taft was elected after Roosevelt and basically started undoing everything his predecessor had done. The budget for the Forest Service was destroyed, protections were rolled back. The only reason the Forest Service survived was because in 1910 there was a MASSIVE fire. It was, at the time, unprecedented and the Forest Service was able to use it to lobby for better funding going forward. But the same cycle has repeated ever since. An administration that doesn't value conservation will come in, shred the budget, there will be deadly consequences that make the next administration pad the budget some, and then it will start again.
It's a lot like people who stop taking their medicine because they think they're cured since they feel better, but they only feel better because they were taking their medicine.
So what happens now? Well, it's already happening and it happened under Biden, and will only get worse under Trump. To keep it simple, there are two kinds of federal employment: seasonal, and year-round. Most of the federal Forest Service jobs are seasonal, because the work is seasonal. This includes firefighters, but it also includes things like park rangers and trail maintenance crews. From late spring to early fall there are tooooons of people working. Then, the rest of the year, its a skeleton crew of year-rounders doing mostly maintenance work, controlled burns, paperwork, stuff like that.
Now, with all of that said, here is where we stand at this specific moment: the decision has already been made that the Forest Service will not be hiring seasonal workers outside of firefighting next year. This means no seasonal park rangers, no seasonal maintenance people, none of that. This means next year parks are going to be a MESS. Bathrooms will not be cleaned regularly, campgrounds will not be maintained, trails will not be maintained, and a ton of other stuff. The year-rounder skeleton crew will be all we've got. And, crucially, there will be less professionals monitoring the woods looking for new fires. Rangers, even ones not working directly on fire stuff, are a crucial level of protection for spotting and reporting fires.
Secondary to that is the pay issue. Even if you're a year-rounder, the pay is abysmal. Your average out the gate, newbie wildland firefighter is going to make around $17/hr base pay if they work for a federal agency. Now, there's a ton of random stuff that can bump that pay up even without the retention bonus we're currently getting. You get a night differential and a Sunday differential for starters, and hazard pay when you are actively working a fire, plus there's ALWAYS overtime, sometimes an insane amount of it. Then there's per diem if you are traveling for a fire, and that can be a nice little bump too. But the point/problem is that the pay is VERY unpredictable. You can have a massively busy season and be swimming in money, or you can have a slow as fuck season and end up scrapping by because the base pay isn't enough. The Wildland Firefighter Paycheck Protection Act is supposed to fix this by bumping up the base pay, but that can has been kicked back and forth in the government for yeeeears now.
Now, as you mentioned, people CAN transfer their federal qualifications for fire to state and private crews. It generally pays better if you do. But we do not want to privatize fire response. Given the size of this country, given the spread of the population within it, we have to have a federal firefighting force. Leaving it to the states and private companies will not be enough.
That is where we are starting the new administration: abysmal pay, failing departments, and slimmed back hiring. Given Trump's repeated insistence on slimming down the government, on withholding aid in blue states, on getting rid of things like the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (which is also crucial for firefighting), and other things in that vein, I think we are staring down the barrel of a very, very dangerous time.
So, some action items if you want to help:
Call your local representatives and insist they pass the Wildland Firefighter Protection Act NOW, before the new administration comes in. The new administration could still screw it up, but we've gotta at least try.
Be patient and understanding with Park Rangers in the coming years. They are doing their best with what they've got.
Take responsibility for your use of public lands. Clean up after yourself, pick up litter when you see it, and donate if there is a way for you to do so.
Educate yourself and your community on wildland fire even if you don't think you are in a wildland fire prone area. Learn about and implement defensible space around your homes and communities. I'll be doing a lot of education around this going forward, so if you have questions or want help please ask me!
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"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"
PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader
WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)
WORD COUNT: 2,922
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.
You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”
So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.
Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.
You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.
Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.
You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.
“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.
Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.
For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”
The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.
James. Freaking. Barnes.
You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.
James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.
You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.
You were just acquaintances.
You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.
“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.
He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.
He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.
James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.
You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.
“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”
You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.
“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.
James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.
“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.
He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.
James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”
You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”
James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”
You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”
You gulped and nodded.
“Bucky.”
He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.
“Please let me kiss you.”
You froze, you didn’t know what to do.
You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.
And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.
You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.
“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.
So, you nodded.
Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.
He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.
He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.
He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.
You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.
You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.
“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question. He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.
He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.
His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.
Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.
You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.
He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.
When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”
Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.
“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.
“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.
The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”
Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.
You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.
He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.
He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.
Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.
He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.
He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”
Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”
You froze, “you can’t be serious.”
“Well, I kinda am.”
“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”
“Should I take that as a, yes?”
You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.
“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”
🎀🎀🎀
A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!
I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!
This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.
I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!
Hope you lovelies liked this!
Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!
Till' then,
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader smut#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky x you#the winter soldier#james bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes and reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fandom#bucky barnes fic
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i really dont feel qualified enough to speak out about anything im still too tired and scared and full of both warranted and misplaced guilt to properly function but i do need to express one thing. which is that we have got to find a way to talk about women and feminism and misogyny and men and the patriarchy again. we cannot go on pretending misogyny isnt as rampant as ever, more rampant than its been in a long time, and that it isnt just as much a danger as all the other fucking dangers hovering over us at any given minute. letting terfs hog feminist spaces is one of the worst things we did and im tired of blaming the terfs for it when thats just as much on us as it is on them. we are letting ourselves down and we are letting trans women down we are so segregated and so distractible we tiptoe around everything we have fucked our solidarity to hell im sick of biting my tongue on women's issues im sick of being nervous to voice my opinions to other women irl and im sick of having to check feminist blogs on here to see if theyre terfs before i interact im sick of people nitpicking each other's language because certain things sound like "terf dogwhistles" like yeah no shit they do because they weaponized them! theyre controlling the entire fucking narrative! at this point i'd rather see flawed feminism than none at all maybe im crazy but i am trying to have some fucking faith in other women and i know how i feel and how much i love my trans sisters and my trans friends and how safe i feel in trans spaces because im becoming a bigger and more gender nonconforming dyke with every breath i take and i dont care how it comes off to strangers online im gonna rebuild my community and im gonna talk more about being a woman and all that entails and what it means to me. and if any of this spoke to you in any way i am literally begging you to find a way to do the same
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^^^ for an irl example, I had a supervisor not too long ago. White, cishet, in his 30s, grew up in a v white environment. Genuinely nice, funny guy who worked hard. He gave me shit (in a v joking, non-serious way) about being the physically weakest/having the lowest endurance of our team in a physically demanding job but if anyone told him that they didn't like the way he joked about something he'd immediately apologize and never do it again. Def not far right or alt right guy, not really woke but also was a genuinely nice person who cared.
There was a point where HR was asking each team member privately about their experiences and if there were any concerns we wanted to bring up. None of us had any and we said so. She went "are you sure? Nothing at all?" We all said "nope our crew and our crew leader all get along great and we work safely".
Then it turns out that the first crew he had years back was a nightmare. He didn't find out til well after they had all left for other jobs but according to his boss, they demanded that they be able to interview him before he was hired. When they were told it would be impractical but that they could suggest questions they wanted to ask, they wanted to ask what his sexual orientation was, his gender assigned at birth, and his political views, all of which are v illegal to ask in an interview so they were told "no were not going to ask that because we cannot legally ask that".
The next year or so was filled with complaints about him. They claimed he was laughing at them (he was someone who just laughed a lot in general), was harassing them via eye contact, was making inappropriate jokes, etc, over basically everything he did. To the point where he would just avoid eye contact with all of them all the time, and at lunch breaks he'd just go and sit by himself, silently, cuz they never communicated directly with him about what was bothering them so he couldn't correct behaviors except avoid contact altogether. when he tried to ask them to explain they'd blow up at him. They also complained that he misgendered them, and he admitted that he had misused pronouns once or twice when they first met, but he said he apologized and corrected himself.
He told us about a childhood friend who came out to him a couple of years ago. He said "yeah, she told me her name is [name] now. She's happier than she ever was when we were kids, and we're still close." He never once dead named her or used the wrong pronouns when talking about her, so I'm inclined to think that it was a genuine mistake when first meeting new ppl. He said his mental health really suffered during that time, not being able to have any social connection at work and feeling like literally anything he did could be used to file a formal complaint, but he really needed the job so he endured it. No crew after that ever made a formal complaint about him.
Meanwhile, our crew of 5 with at least 2 queer ppl on it and 3 POC had a great time with him. The worst thing he ever said was that he thought that no one really cared about representation when he was a kid, but he sincerely listened when I told him about being Mulan for Halloween over 2 years in a row because she was the only kid friendly East Asian character I knew of at the time and that was a big deal for me.
Ppl aren't worse or evil for traits they didn't choose, and a lot of ppl just need a civil conversation to understand others' perspectives that they weren't previously exposed to or aware of. It's not your responsibility to spend the energy to have those conversations but not spreading hateful rhetoric about ppl because of traits they cannot change costs nothing
I couldn't have said it better myself.
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𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6𝒌
𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘���𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙲𝚄 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎.
𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.
𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝.
Baby, am I your little secret?
I’m old enough to keep it
“Y/N! Hurry up, please. Wanda is waiting for us!” You groaned as your mother yelled from the living room. You were fully aware there was absolutely no need for you to take so long to get ready; your mom’s best friend had invited you both to her house since her boys were at their father’s for the week. Your mom had politely asked you to cancel any plans you had with your friends since she believed her friend needed some company because of the messy divorce she was currently going through. You had pretended to huff and puff while trying to convince your mother to go over Wanda’s alone, but she had (luckily) insisted for you to go as well, which made you extremely happy due to the fact that you had an embarrassingly huge crush on the woman since you and your mother had come out of hiding.
It had been two years since the two of you had finally been able to come back to your birthplace. You had spent most of your life in hiding, and your mother had never fully explained to you why you had to go into hiding in the first place. The only thing you were aware of was that it had something to do with her job, which, again, you had no specific idea of what it was. You had met, in the last two years, her coworkers, but none of them had ever said a word about the job; not even Wanda had told you, and you had no idea why.
You had once heard a conversation between your mother and Tony, which was somewhat their boss from what you had gathered so far, but they were just talking about how much your mother was lucky that you had never seen or heard anything about what had happened before the two of you got into hiding, but you had no idea from whom you should’ve heard something since no one was even willing to talk to you about it.
Anyhow, you were now trying to look as good as possible to go over to Wanda’s, not that the redhead would even notice; sure, she was nice, but she was also your mom’s best friend, so she obviously saw you as her own daughter from the moment she reconciled with the both of you after 16 years. Wanda would probably make a comment about how you looked nice, grown up, or even like a lady, but she would never look at you as you wished she would. Sighing at your own thoughts, you ran your fingers through your hair, trying not to make them look as curly as the iron had made them. You didn’t want your mother to notice you had tried to look beautiful for an easy dinner as that was going to be. You ran down the stairs, grabbing your coat, and you saw your mother waiting impatiently at the door. You rolled your eyes at her behavior, and then you smiled happily.
“So, are we going?” You asked as your mother looked at you incredulously, almost giving you a piece of her mind because of how long she had to wait for you; you didn’t give her a chance though; you just opened the door in front of the two of you and went outside. Your mother followed you, sighing. You held your purse closer to your face as you roamed your hands inside. After a few seconds you took out of your bag your pack of cigarettes, and you brought one to your mouth, lighting it up.
“Care to tell me why on earth it took you so long to get ready? It’s not even like we’re going to some fancy dinner or place.” Your mother didn’t even bother to scold you for smoking; she was as sure as heck against it. The two of you had fought for almost as long as you had been smoking, even if you were in hiding when you started. She knew those years were difficult for you; you had no one to talk to beside her, you had no friends, you couldn’t make friends, you never went to school. Your mother had taught you everything you knew, which was everything she knew, everything she had ever learned, from talking to reading and writing. She tried to teach you as many school subjects as she could; she taught you grammar, math, history, and geography. The one thing your mother sure as hell knew and taught you perfectly were foreign languages; you had no idea how or when she had learned them, but she managed to teach you French, German, Russian, Chinese, Italian, and Latin.
“I did not take long to get ready; I just didn’t want to come.” You replied, taking a puff and smiling to yourself. Your mother had absolutely no idea you would have spent even more time to get ready to see Wanda, if only you could’ve been sure she would never get suspicious about it. You got in your seat and you fastened your seatbelt; your mother drove off while you rolled down the window.
“Y/N, it’s freezing outside.” It was the same argument your mother made every time to guilt-trip you into stopping your addiction to those cigarettes she hated so much. Not once did she actually manage to make you stop, but that never stopped her from trying. “So, Tony managed to find a way for you to take those exams we talked about.”
“He did?” You basically screamed and jumped in your seat. Your mother and Tony had been trying to find a way for you to actually not having to go through all those school years you had missed. You knew Tony was extremely rich and powerful, but yet you had no idea how he had managed to do such a thing. His plan was for you to take an exam for each subject that was considered necessary for basic knowledge and for the college you wanted to go to. When Stak first talked to you about his idea, you immediately refused. You had no idea how you were supposed to study for an exam; you had no idea what schools usually expected for exams; you weren’t even sure you knew enough stuff to pass it. Your mother, on the other hand, was enthusiastic with the plan; she was so sure she had taught you everything you were supposed to know; she even stated that you knew more than most of the population of the US, but still you weren’t sure.
Of course it was Wanda the one to change your mind; she made sure to plan out some mock exams for you, she made sure you were taught how to properly study, and she assisted you in everything you possibly needed. Your mother helped her do everything, of course, but it was her approval and her faith in you that made you a bit more confident in what you were capable of.
“Solnyshko, you are perfectly capable of passing every exam they could put you through. I’m already sure you are, but if you don’t have that much faith in yourself yet, I will make sure you find out how brilliant you are.”
And just like that, you called Tony yourself, and you asked him to do everything he could to let you take those exams.
“He’s Tony; of course he did.” Your mother smiled at you; you could see how she warmed up as soon as she saw how happy the news made you. You were so lucky to have her; despite your arguments, the two of you were everything you both needed to carry on; she made sure you knew that from the very moment you took your first breath alongside her. You knew the bond the two of you had was the strongest thing in the world. Even if during those years in hiding you suffered, and you were positive your mother suffered as well, probably more than you, she always made sure to let you know you were loved. She always reminded you of all those people who rescued you when you were a baby, who saw you take your first steps and cheered with her when you called her "Mom" for the first time. In those 16 years, she never once let a single doubt about how much you were loved even cross your mind; she made sure you had everything you ever needed, even if it meant sneaking into shops, bars, or movies. You were extremely grateful she was the one to choose to keep you when they rescued you; you didn’t even care if you had had to spend all those years locked away from the rest of the world because you had the most caring, strong, and important person with you all the way. “What are you thinking about?” Your mother asked, looking at you curiously; lately she had a hard time figuring out what was going through your head. When the two of you came back to your birthplace and finally managed to live a normal life, your mother knew that a lot of things were about to change. She knew you were going to start questioning a lot of things, that you were going to figure out a lot of stuff that you didn’t even know existed before, and most of all, she knew that all those fights the two of you didn’t have during your teenage years were going to happen all at once. She was ready for that; what she wasn't ready for was for her not to be able to understand you anymore.
“I love you, mom.” You blurted out without even thinking; it had been quite a while since you had said it out loud, and now you were regretting waiting so much to tell her because she was your whole world still, and you needed to remind her of that. You needed to remind her that no matter what had changed or what could still change, no matter what happened in the world or around you, nothing was ever going to break your special bond. You kissed her on the cheek before looking out the window. “Oh, we’re here. I was so caught up in my own thoughts I hadn't noticed.” You smiled at your mother before getting out of the car.
As soon as you shut the door, you heard the gate behind you squeak. You immediately turned around to find yourself in front of the woman of your current dreams. Her long, wavy red hair was let loose and was framing her face as if she were a portrait. Her green eyes were soft and kind, as you had always seen them; her smile was genuine, not as happy as you’d wished it was, but she was getting there; you knew it. She was wearing a pink minidress, which seemed more of a combined blouse and skirt, with a pair of not-so-high heels. She looked immensely beautiful, and you would’ve told her so if it weren’t for the tiny fact that she was 34 years old and you were 20, she was your mother’s best friend and coworker, and she was straight, recently divorced, and a mother of two.
Just your average-looking relationship.
As you approached Wanda, her smile widened, and yours did too. She opened her arms in your direction, waiting for you to fall into her embrace, just like you always had done. She obviously had no idea the reason why you loved her hugs so much. She had no idea you loved feeling so close to her; you knew it was the only way you had to feel it. She had no idea you loved her perfume—the one you were so obsessed with, the one that was all her. Most of all, she had no idea if it were for you; the embrace would last forever.
“Oh, how are you, detka?" The redhead asked you, and you shivered hearing her accent. You briefly wondered if she could feel it too, but you tried to shake those doubts off because you knew you couldn’t get too lost in your thoughts when you were with her; it was like she could hear them, as if she had a gift.
“She’s stubborn as always, Wanda. Can you believe she took more than an hour to get ready just because she had wanted to do something with her friends instead?” You heard your mother’s voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes as you took a step back from your heaven. You felt guilty for letting Wanda think you didn’t want to come, to let her think you would put anyone before her, when she was the only thing you could ever think about, from the very moment you opened your eyes in the morning until you fell asleep. Even then, more often than not, you would dream about her.
“You should stop putting your daughter in awkward situations, Nat; I’ve told you this before. Anyway, I can totally believe she took more than an hour to get ready. Ty vyglyadish' prekrasno, sulnyshko.” You looked up from the very interesting spot you had found on the ground, and you stared into those beautiful green eyes. Wanda was smiling at you, and you had no idea what she had told you; her dialect always reminded you of Russian, but you knew she was Sokovian, and you didn’t know a single Sokovian word. You knew she was talking to you because you recognized the pet name she had started calling you as soon as you and your mother had come back. Sulnyshko meant sunshine, or little sun, which was the literal translation and also the one you preferred. She always called you that, and each time you blushed heavily, you could feel the warmth reach your ears, and you knew she noticed it every time too, because after feeling your face and ears get warm, you’d notice her smile widening.
“Shall we get inside?” Wanda asked, her gaze shifting from looking closely at your reaction to looking at your mother and gesturing for the both of you to get inside. Your mother nodded, and the three of you entered her house. It was warmer than you had expected; you didn’t know if it was because the redhead knew you would be there or because she was getting better at taking care of herself and not basically almost freezing herself to death.
You knocked on the door; you knew you shouldn’t be there, but your mother had just finished telling you that the day before she had gone to Wanda’s, she had found the woman curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, which had been off.
You were worried; you knew she hadn’t invited you to her house, but you needed to see her; you needed to know she was at least managing. You had no idea why the joint custody of the boys seemed to be a problem; it was one of the many topics no one seemed to want to explain to you. The only thing you knew was that Vision might get full custody, and you were sure Wanda was not taking it well.
It had been some minutes and no one had answered the door. You didn’t know if you needed to be relieved, if maybe she went somewhere with her children, or if you had to be even more worried than you already were. You tried knocking again.
The door swung open in front of you, and you found yourself looking at the woman you loved had a huge crush on; she seemed angry, stressed, and sad all at once.
“If I’m not answering, maybe I don’t want to be bo - Malyshka. Hi, what are you doing here?” She stopped her yelling as soon as her eyes landed on you. You wanted to disappear from her porch cursing yourself for bothering her, but she was now looking at you with so much love and affection that you couldn't do anything else than hug her.
She didn’t hug you back immediately; you felt her body stiffen at first, but slowly you felt her arms circle your figure and her own loosen up; you almost felt as if you needed to support her before she fell to the ground.
You hugged for what felt like hours, days even, but you didn’t let go; you never would’ve.
“May I come in? I was worried about you, to be honest.” You mumbled into her shoulder; you heard her sigh, she didn’t like to be rescued. Wanda let go of your body and gestured for you to get inside. You gave her an apologetic smile as you stepped into her house. As soon as Wanda closed the door, the slight warmth coming from the sun was gone, and you found yourself in a freezing room.
“Do you want some tea? Or coffee?” The redhead asked you, acting as if nothing was off, as if her house couldn't compete with Santa Clause’s; but you were there to make her feel better, and you were going to do just that.
“Let me take care of that; is that okay? Maybe you could wait in the living room or on the couch, whatever you prefer.” You smiled at her as she nodded; she went off to the couch, and you went to the kitchen, starting on making some tea. As you wandered around the kitchen looking into the cabinets to find something to eat along with the tea, you decided to just bake some cookies. Wanda had not much to eat.
You added that to the list of things to worry about, and you started to make the dough. You were so lost in cooking that when you turned around and found Wanda sitting at the counter, you jumped and almost screamed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just didn’t want to be alone on the couch knowing you are here,” the redhead explained to you, and you smiled at her. You took her hands in yours and nodded. You then turned around once again and grabbed two mugs. You poured some water into them and placed Earl Gray in her mug and orange cinnamon in yours.
You took your seat beside her and waited for the tea to cool off a bit. You noticed Wanda was grabbing the mug tightly, as if she were trying to warm herself up; you wondered why she wasn’t turning on the heat if she was cold.
“I was wondering... do you mind if I turn on the heat just a little bit? I don’t know about you, but I would love it a bit warmer in here.” You tried it this way; maybe if you made it about you and not about her, she wouldn’t feel like you were trying to help her or rescue her and would agree with you.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t occur to me you might find it cold in here. I’m used to it; I don’t usually feel that cold, but if you want, I can turn it up for you.” You nodded gratefully and smiled victoriously as you watched her make her way to the thermostat. She was soon back at your side, and you both drank the tea in silence. You looked at her from time to time, but she was always looking down into her mug, as if she had found something interesting inside.
When you were both finished with it, you grabbed the mugs and washed them. You looked at the time and noticed the cookies still needed 20 more minutes. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome, but you wanted to make sure she was going to eat something. Conflicted, you tried to make a good impression anyway.
“Can I leave the cookies to your care? I think-” Wanda didn’t let you finish your sentence; she grabbed your hand as she noticed you rising once again from the chair, only this time there were no mugs to wash. You looked at her concerned and found her eyes looking at you hopeful.
“Can you stay some more time? I don’t feel like being alone, and I really enjoy your company.” Her lip was quivering, you didn’t want her to cry; she probably wouldn't have done it anyway, not in front of you. In that moment, you had to take complete control of yourself and try not to stare at her lips when she needed you.
You erased the distance there was between the two of you and hugged her once again; she immediately responded to the embrace this time, hugging you tightly.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The dinner was pleasant, not that you ever had any doubt about it. Wanda was an amazing hostess, and your mother had always been amazing to spend time with. You had tried once again to ask them how they met; they both rolled their eyes at you, and while your mother laughed at you for never giving up, Wanda smiled at you apologetically. You were sure she wanted to tell you something—anything of the things they were all keeping you out of—but probably they had made her swear she wouldn’t.
You had noticed Wanda was restless that evening; she kept looking at you and then looking away, like you burned her with your gaze. She often blushed, and you had no idea why; she even had to pop a button of her dress or two open, but you didn’t even have time to fully appreciate her beauty that she buttoned up again, in a rush. The redhead kept blushing, she kept fidgeting in her seat, she was always moving; even your mother noticed and asked her if everything was okay. Wanda just nodded and told her she was hot, brushing it off as nothing. You just didn’t believe her; something was off, and you had no idea what that could be.
Every time your mother and her friend talked about things only the two of them could understand, your mind trailed off, wandering to places and universes in which you and Wanda were together, in which you could admire her in all her beauty. You wished you really could see all of her; you wished you could kiss her every day, multiple times a day; you wished you could kiss every part of her; you wished she would kiss you too.
You had recently found out about certain things you had not known before, the way one can enjoy a bit of pain during the pleasure, and the way sometimes it enhances the pleasure itself. So, each time Wanda would use her hands while talking, you would picture those hands gently closing around your throat while she soothes you but also pleasures you.
Your mind was so far gone during that dinner, and you were glad neither your mother nor Wanda noticed anything, except for when Wanda would occasionally look at you with those big green eyes, which seemed bigger than usual, just when you were thinking about things extremely explicitly. So then you felt guilty for thinking about such things involving her.
“So, since it has been two weeks, do you have any news for us?” Your mother asked her friend, and you wanted to curse at her. You knew what she wanted to know; she was waiting for Wanda to tell you how her week with her children was, if she had seen Vision, and if they had talked. You were worried Wanda just wasn’t ready to talk about it, and, also, you really didn’t want to know anything about the sperm donor.
Your internal cursing at your mother and Vision was interrupted by the sweetest laugh you had ever heard. Wanda was looking at you, and she was genuinely laughing. You had no idea why; you hadn’t talked or, wait...
“Did I say that out loud?” You asked extremely embarrassed; you were now sure that all those efforts not to make your mother or Wanda suspicious about your feelings towards the redhead were now useless. How could you have been so stupid to—
“No, lisichka, I think Wanda here is being a little silly, isn’t she?” You knew very well that tone; your mother was warning Wanda, and you had no idea why, but you didn’t like it. Whatever was the reason that made the redhead laugh was okay; she was laughing, and there was nothing more beautiful in the whole world. You wished to be able to hear her laughter every day, to be the one to make her laugh, to be able to laugh with her. You wanted to be able to sneak up to her, tickle her, and watch her squirm against your fingers—
“I- I think I need to go check on the dessert; excuse me for a moment.” The redhead unwillingly interrupted you again. You noticed her blush a little before she made her way to the kitchen; you were now confused. You had expected for her to feel either intimidated by your mother or angry at her tone; you had not expected for her to blush and hide away. Your mother excused herself as well, saying she needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and took that opportunity to stand up and follow Wanda to the kitchen, already planning to use as an excuse the fact that you wanted to see if she needed help.
As you entered the kitchen, you stopped your steps to look at the woman in front of you. She was leaning against the counter, both hands gripping onto it; she looked just beautiful. You got closer and you caught a glimpse of her legs, so smooth and long, and you lost yourself in your thoughts. The way you wanted to kiss them so badly—to touch them, caress them, feel them tremble against—
“You need to stop.” Her voice was trembling; you had no idea what she was talking about. She still wasn’t facing you, but you could see her whole body quivering, and for a moment you were worried she was hurt, that maybe she hurt herself in some way, so you made your way to her. As you got closer, her grip on the counter tightened, and her breath got more labored. “The things you do to me, with your stares, your looks. You have no idea of the way you look at me, like you want to devour me. And then your thoughts... I just-”
“My what?” You were now looking at the woman confused; why was she walking about your thoughts? Sure, you always thought it was weird for her to always know what you were thinking about, but you always assumed it was because she knew you better than most people. Wanda turned around; she was now facing you; her eyes were dark, darker than you had ever seen them, and she was looking at you intensely. She started to walk towards you; she was merely inches away. You could feel her breath on your face, and you wanted to feel her even closer. She closed her eyes, and as she opened them again, everything was gone. You heard your mother walk close by and Wanda walking away.
“I burned the dessert, I’m so sorry. Nat, I think it’s better for the two of you to go now. I’m sorry. I just need some time alone; I feel tired right now.”
And just like that, you and your mother were on your way home; Wanda had not said goodbye to you the way she used to. She didn’t hug you, and you missed it. She didn’t kiss your cheek, and you missed the feeling of her lips against your skin. The redhead didn’t even explain to you what was happening before your mother came into the kitchen. You had no idea what you had done, but something had changed.
#mommy wanda#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you
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Drive Me Crazy
Chapter Two
None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.
Lestappen X Reader
Chapter One
The Beast. An awful nickname, one nobody deserved. Admittedly, Charles knew little about her. He knew little about the current Formula Two drivers in general, but knew nothing about The Beast. Still, he doubted the nickname was fitting.
He couldn't help but look into her. Max pressed kisses along his shoulder as Max did his all important research.
"I don't like it," Max mumbled as he kissed across Charles's shoulder. "Sounds dangerous."
Charles waved him off and continued to read, learning what he could about you. A good racer, that was clear. Vicious, adrenaline driven. Like Max, Charles couldn't help but think. But then he scrolled down.
'The Beast attacks fellow F2 Driver, 'Ollie Bearman'.
You had attacked Ollie. Why had you attacked Ollie? Charles clicked on the video and let it play.
It began, just after they'd gotten the muzzle back over your mouth. Ollie was on the floor, hand bleeding hand protectively in front of his face. His blood dripped through your muzzle, dripped from your mouth. You looked positives feral as you stared down at him. A terrifying sight.
But you couldn't be that feral, right? They wouldn't keep you in Motorsport if you were that dangerous.
Max grabbed his chin, forcing Charles to look away from his phone screen. "Charlie, promise me you won't go trying to adopt this one like you did Oscar and Ollie," he said, blue eyes staring into Charles's.
Cupping his cheek, Charles leaned forward and kissed Max's nose. "I can't promise anything, Max," he said and settled down against them.
Max released a sigh. He laid down next to Charles and wrapped his arms around him, unwilling to let him go. "Charles, please," he said, suddenly sounding so serious. "Promise me you won't go near her."
He didn't reply. Max laid awake, aware that Charles was awake, too. Awake, but not talking to him. "Charles," he tried again. But Charles moved further away from him.
***
The lock slid into place and you were left in the dark hotel room, food in front of you. "Tomorrow is a big day," your handler (manager, she preferred to be called. But she really was your handler) called through the door.
You knew that, knew how big the next day was going to be. A chance to drive for Ferrari, in the place of Carlos Sainz. It would be your only chance to drive for Ferrari, you knew. There was no way you weren't going to fuck it up.
You ate slowly, thinking too much. The collar was still around your neck as you ate, and you were hyper aware of it each time you swallowed. It had always been tight, a warning to behave or deal with the consequences.
Your muzzle was on the bedside table. God, you hated that thing. It had been too tight for years, stained with blood. Your blood, Ollie Bearman's blood (you felt bad about that one. Ollie didn't deserve it, and you hadn't meant to bite him. He really was the sweet pup everybody saw him as. He just got caught in the crossfires of you and Théo Pourchaire), the blood of others.
Your food was finished, plate empty. Moving it to the door, you raised your hand and knocked. It was pulled open as you hopped back and looked at your handler. "How're you feeling?" She asked and she shrugged your shoulders, picking at your skin around your nails.
Your handler walked further into the room. She shut the door, put the plate beside your muzzle on the bedside table, and grabbed your hairbrush from your bag. "C'mere," she said and sat on the bed.
You did as you were told and came to sit in front of her. She brushed through your hair, humming as she did.
She was the closest thing you'd had to a mother. Ever. Kind and caring, making sure you actually took care of yourself. She cooked for you, brushed through your hair, used your shock collar when you put somebody else in danger.
You sat there, your eyes falling closed as you listened to her humming. You wouldn't hurt her, couldn't hurt her. She was all you had in this world.
She got you into bed before you could fall asleep. Your finger hooked beneath your chock collar and pulled, but it was so damn tight. A whimper left your lips and you struggled to fall asleep.
A Ferrari driver. You were going to be a Ferrari driver. It wouldn't be forever, but long enough. Maybe after this you could give up this dream that wasn't your own. You didn't know what else you would do if you were to give up this life, but you wanted to find out.
***
The entire Ferrari garage was anxious. Fred was anxious, the engineers were anxious, the social media team was anxious. Charles was anxious.
You were anxious.
Charles's research the night before hadn't prepared him for the first sight of you. His knee had been bouncing as he waited, thumbs tapping across his screen as he texted Max. Max was panicking, he knew. He didn't trust Charles, didn't trust him to protect himself in front of the driver nicknamed 'The Beast'.
You didn't deserve that nickname. After seeing the video of you attacking Ollie, he still didn't think you deserved the nickname. It was too close to somebody else he knew, to the way they were before someone showed them what love was.
You and Max were one in the same. He remembered when Jos would force Max to wear a muzzle, back when they were in the lower divisions. But that wasn't because Max was a danger. No, that was to keep him quiet, submissive in front of Jos.
If he could help Max, then he could help you.
But then you walked into the garage. The Ferrari shirt was on your body as you strode into the garage. Nothing looked out of place, nothing but the shock collar and the muzzle. It didn't look right on your face, biting into your cheeks and obscuring what he was sure was a gorgeous smile.
The woman who followed you into the garage introduced you, told everybody else your name. They all knew your name, but they were going to call you 'The Beast'.
For a moment, Charles wondered why you weren't the one speaking. But then he realised, you couldn't speak with the muzzle as tight as it was. He stood up and walked over, holding his hand out towards you.
You looked towards the woman that had followed you in. She gave you a nod and you finally placed your hand in his, shaking it. Good dog, he almost expected the woman to say to you.
You dropped his hand but you kept staring at him. You knew who is was. Charles Leclerc. The Prince of Monaco. Ferrari's golden boy. You had raced against his brother the year before. Arthur was smart enough to stay away from you. It didn't stop him from giving you a polite smile whenever you walked past.
As Charles tried to speak to you, and got answers from the woman behind you, your manager, your handler, he could feel eyes on him. Max, he knew immediately.
Max couldn't concentrate on whatever Helmut Marko was saying to him. He didn't care, anyway. Not when Charles was standing so close to somebody called 'The Beast'. Admittedly, the video made you look so much worse than this. The video didn't show you trembling like you were now. It didn't show you cowering behind the woman that followed you into the garage.
But he had seen the bite marks on Ollie's hand, had seen the damage you had done. You could so quickly do the same thing to Charles. He edged away from the Red Bull garage, stopping himself from running towards the Ferrari garage. His body was ready to go at a moments notice.
"Is the muzzle necessary?" Charles asked as he stared at you. You hadn't looked away from him, your eyes hadn't left his gaze.
No! You wanted to scream. Please, please, please get it off me!
But you couldn't say it. Couldn't speak with just how tight the muzzle was, wouldn't speak even if you could. But you couldn't trust yourself, you knew. If the muzzle was taken off, you couldn't stop yourself from lashing out, from feeling like that was the only way to protect yourself.
Your pathetic whimper got to him, though. His gaze softened and he reached towards you.
Immediately, Max was moving towards the Ferrari garage. "Fuck," he hissed as he ran.
Charles unlatched your muzzle. The way you were looking at him, looking so sweet and innocent, he couldn't help but pull the muzzle away.
The muzzle hit the floor, and you lunged for him.
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The Legendary Mermaid
Another commission!
They asked for a Legend and Reader where mermaids are involved. I'd explain more but I don't want to spoil it. XD
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
Link didn’t think much of you at first. You were clumsy. Uncoordinated. One of the most ungraceful beings he has ever had the… um... pleasure to meet.
You spoke in broken Hylian but he could understand you well enough. When he stumbled into you on the beach he tried to go through the number of languages that he knew were native to the area but none of them seemed to click with you.
You were excitable and wobbly. You looked straight out of a ship wreck so you could have been from anywhere.
Still- Link wasn’t about to abandon you when you clearly had no idea where you were.
He took you into his village, set you up with a place to stay with some helpful neighbors and thought that his duty of care was done. He was wrong.
Turns out! You had a habit of running off in the middle of the day and going off to who knows where. The first time it happened, poor Gulley was in a tizzy trying not to panic because he thought you were just really good at hide and seek and he didn’t want you to miss dinner.But he couldn’t find you anywhere.
More people got involved.
They still had no idea where you went. Hours passed and the sun went down but no one had a clue where their strange and sudden visitor could have gone off to.
Link suddenly had the terrible thought that maybe you went off into the lake and something terrible happened. He ran as fast as he could but his panic happened to be unfounded.
You were there, soaking wet but otherwise unharmed, playing a small hermit crab that had somehow made it out of the water.
Link had half the mind to scold you, but your innocent giggles at the tiny creature had enough incentive to get him to calm down first. He bought you back where many of the aunties and elders fussed over you before giving you a warm bowl of soup and tucking you away for the night.
Your galavanting happened at least every other day. It didn’t take long for Link to realize that everytime you went missing, you were actually just by some body of water.
He thought that maybe you just had a childish way of exploring. Or maybe you just liked to splash and swim. He wasn’t one to judge. He just wished you told people where you were going and when you planned to be back so no one would worry about you.
When you decided to stay in the village and interact with other humans for a change, you were like a fish out of water.
You crashed into walls. You tripped over your own two feet. You would lose your balance at the oddest of times.
“Whoa!” Link caught you the arm before you could fall over and land face first into a pile of mud. “You know… You walk like a newborn deer.”
“What is deer?” You ask on impulse.
Link pauses and gives you a questioning look but decides to keep his judgment silent. Maybe there’s just no deer where you’re from. Somehow. Which would be strange considering how popular they are. Then again, you’ve never mentioned how you got to where they are or where you grew up. It seemed to be the only topic you actively avoided talking about.
“An animal.” Link says instead. “They have skinny legs and they begin walking on the day they’re born. The males have horns on their heads.”
“....Do they shine? Many colors?” You ask with a hopeful expression on your face.
Link hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he finds that he can’t lie to you. “Not really. They hide a lot so they look like golden grass and dried leaves.”
“Grass.” You stand up straighter, still holding onto his arm. “...Hm…”
Link has no idea how to respond to that.
“Yes.” He tries anyway. “They’re actually quite big once they’re fully grown. They’re majestic creatures.”
“Magic?” You tilt your head.
“No magic.” He shakes his head. “ Ma-ges-tic.”
“...Oh.”
Is he going crazy or do you sound disappointed? Link swallows the spit in his throat, not sure why he feels the need to not only make you feel better, but to also impress you. “Most animals can’t do magic but they’re still very impressive. You know- if you want, we can always go into the forest and look for them. How’s that sound?”
You smile, but it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes.
Link feels his heart bob. He’s not sure if he’s doing this right. “Maybe tomorrow, yeah? After I’m done with my work in the forge, I’ll come look for you and we can go explore some more.”
Your eyes light up a little more genuinely and you nod enthusiastically to boot.
Link feels better about this suddenly.
Until tomorrow rolls around and you’re once again nowhere to be found.
Link wants to ram his head into the nearest wall. How could he forget? It was a ‘Go for a Swim Day’ today. It was part of your pattern. Did he just forget all his senses suddenly?
Groaning for the extra mileage he has to walk, he heads home first to collect some stuff for the journey. Surely you would be hungry at some point, right? Maybe he can make it a picnic too. There’s a nice spot that overlooks the valley that he knows of. You seem to be the type of person who enjoys the simple things his home has to offer.
Not only that but you seem rather focused on finding magical items. Or at least you try to find something magical in every nook and cranny. …He has a few magical items. That can impress you! He packs his magic mirror, his fire arrows and his mermaid tail. You’ll probably find a river or pond that you’d want to jump in. Since you love to swim so much, maybe he’ll join you just this once and show off a bit. Surely you’ve never seen anything like it.
Once he has everything set, he checks the nearby creek first- hoping you didn’t decide to splash around and find out.
Nothing.
Not a stone unturned and not a single piece of evidence that anyone had been here earlier.
Link groans louder and turns on his heel to head down to the lake instead. He knows he’s being dramatic, but you’re not around to witness his pettiness, so he’s at liberty to do what he wants.
His feet are aching by the time he finally makes it to the lake. He kicks off his shoes to walk along the warm sandband before he begins his search anew. There’s not much that he thinks he has to look for. A bag? Some footprints? A discarded shirt or something? Your shoes by the side of the bank?
He finds… nothing.
“Where are you?” Link growls and flops onto the dirt. He pouts and puts his cheeks in his palms as he tries to think about what to do next. There goes his plans for the afternoon. And probably well into the evening at that.
Link can’t help the sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest at the thought of being stood up. Not this was any big deal or anything- but he didn’t realize how much he was actually looking forward to this moment until he couldn’t have it.
Well.. He’s at the lake anyway. And he has the mermaid tail. He’ll get something for you. He can dive to the bottom of the lake and find something cool for you!
Link shimmies the tail on without a second thought and crawls into the water. The magic takes effect at once. He takes his first deep breath and pushes himself further into the cold. He feels his legs become intertwined with his item. The cold loses the sting the further he goes and although it takes a bit longer for his brain to adjust than he’d like, Link is quickly swimming deeper and deeper to where no other Hylian has gone before.
His eyes take longer to adjust. Considering he’s more worried about not forgetting that he can now breathe underwater, he’s still to ignore that little tidbit. All he has to do is swim straight down anyway.
Something moves to his left.
Link stops dead in his tracks.
“What?” He blurts. The sound he makes is warbled, broken as it always is when he tries to speak underwater.
In a split second, the figure blasts in front of him, sending him back a few feet. He brings up his arms to block any unwanted water from going up his nose and growls.
You poke his arm two seconds later.
“AH!” He screams without meaning to.
You seem just as perplexed and confused. You tilt your head and swim back just enough so that you can see him in his entirety. “Link?”
Your voice has changed too, but not quite like his does when he’s in this form. Your voice is clear as crystal and he can physically feel the waves it produces as they curl around his ears and his body.
He repeats your name with the same shocked reverence.
You break out into excited chitters and clicks, sounds he’s never heard before poke all around his body and he thinks he can feel the very effect they have on his brain.
You swim back over to him and twirl him around in earnest. You look delighted to see him here.
Link takes the moment to also look you over.
A mermaid.
He flushes when he sees more than he’s bargained for. Of course. What purpose do clothes serve to a mermaid?
You swim circles around him. The movement is graceful and borderline poetic, nothing like the way you move on land. Your tail was glittery and bejeweled with colors he hadn’t known could sparkle in the low light of the lake water. It trailed after you like a silk scarf or a skilled ribbon dancer.
He was staring.
You seemed to have caught on quickly that he was enthralled by your body. A part of you wonders why. Another feels the need to be embarrassed. You’ve dressed in the way of the finless for so long that you’ve almost adopted their shameful thinking to cover up one's form. The third and final part of you actually likes his attention. He’s impressed. Enamored, almost. This is the part of you that wins.
Smirking, you decide to metaphorically test the waters and dance around him some more, brushing your tail against his and pulling him this way and that with your dance alone. You swim away for just a second, wanting to play some more with the strange boy that can be of both worlds.
Link jolts out of the trance you’ve put him in and skips to follow you.
You laugh.
His breath catches in his throat at the sound of subtle trills and chirps. Link freezes completely in his spot. Your laugh tickles him even as he begins to sink from the lack of movement once more.
“You swim worse than a guppy.”
Link falters and the ethereal moment for him is shattered in an instant.
“Hey!” He says instead.
You laugh again, sending more pins and needles over his skin and tail and begin to swim laps around him, clearly showing off your superior swimming agility. You play with him some more, poking and annoying him but swimming away before he can retaliate and poke you back.
The game catches on from there.
Link is, unfortunately, in over his head and he has to admit proverbial defeat minutes into it. It doesn’t stop him from playing anyway. This is arguably the most free he’s ever seen you and he’s not about to ruin it anymore than his lack of grace does on its own.
It’s nice.
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secrets to a furball! - moon junhui
warnings: none!
pairings: moon junhui x reader
genre: a tipsy moon junhui &....a cat
wc: 1k
drunken confessions series
check out my masterlist!
a rowdy night evolved into a night of peaceful quiet as you half carry a very tipsy jun back to your apartment where he’d insisted on coming just to see your cat. “i swear, i just need to say hi to him,” he’d grumbled with a pout as you’d guided him gently inside.
your cat perked up as you settled jun on the couch, its tail flicking lazily as it watched him with mild curiosity. “stay put,” you said softly, trying not to laugh at how adorably determined jun looked. “i’m grabbing you some water and painkillers.”
he nodded, his gaze already focused on your cat with a warm, tipsy smile. you were only gone a few moments, but when you came back to the living room, you stopped just short of the doorway, his familiar murmuring voice reaching your ears. and this time, the words he was saying in mandarin sent a spark of surprise through you.
ever since he’d learned you had a gotten a kitten, jun had taken to talking to the little fluffball in mandarin, laughingly explaining that it was never too early for anyone to learn a second language; even if that someone was a cat. he’d joke about how one day, your cat would probably start meowing back in perfect chinese.
and so, with minghao’s help, you’d secretly been learning mandarin too. you’d told yourself it was just so you could understand what jun was saying to your cat; those playful, soft words that were spoken just for the two of them. but over time, you realized just how much you’d wanted to understand him, not just in language, but in every way possible.
"你知道我有多喜欢她吗?" ("do you know how much i like her?") he asked, his tone barely above a whisper, like he was confessing to your cat something he’d kept hidden from the rest of the world.
your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t expected anything serious & certainly not this.
your cat blinked, uninterested, but jun continued, undeterred. "我每次看到她," he murmured, "我心真的跳得很快” ("every time I look at her, my heart beats so fast.")
you stilled, holding your breath as he sighed, his words full of a longing he’d never shared with you. it was like he’d poured every ounce of his heart into the drunken confession to this tiny, unimpressed audience of one.
“我喜欢她 喜欢到快要疯了,” ("i like her so much i’m going crazy.") he mumbled, his tone lighthearted but with a hint of something sadder under it, almost like he was trying to laugh off his own confession, whispering it to your cat as if it was some silly secret.
you swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral as you stepped back into the room and set the water down in front of him. “talking to my cat again?” you asked, slipping into a teasing tone to hide the way your heart was racing.
jun jumped slightly, turning to you with wide eyes and a sheepish laugh. “oh, yeah, just…practicing mandarin with him,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin.
“you’re so dedicated,” you replied, smiling as you took a seat beside him. “my cat is very lucky to have you as his teacher.”
jun laughed softly, rubbing his eyes like he was trying to shake off his own embarrassment. “well, he’s a good listener,” he joked, glancing away as if trying to hide his own vulnerability. “doesn’t judge me… or my silly, terrible secrets.”
"oh?” you murmured, tilting your head. “and what kind of secrets would you be telling him?"
he stiffened, his fingers stilling mid-scratch on the cat’s head. "just… silly…terrible…things. nothing important." he repeated, not letting up.
but the way he avoided your gaze, the way his hand trembled just slightly, told you otherwise.
“you know, jun,” you said softly, your gaze fixed on him, “sometimes it’s easier to tell a friend than a cat.”
his gaze flickered to yours, a hint of hope mingling with the apprehension in his eyes. he swallowed, his throat bobbing as he seemed to consider it, his usual playful confidence nowhere to be found.
“i just…” he trailed off, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the room’s stillness. “i guess I'm just scared.”
“if I tell you a secret, will you tell me yourself what you told my cat?”
“that depends on if your secret holds the same value as mine,” he laughed, “what if you tell me a silly secret like….you just farted or something?”
it's always so easy with jun, laughing like this at midnight, “no i didnt just fart you dork! my secret is that....i've been learning mandarin from minghao for the past 8 months....& that i also heard what you said to my cat.”
he froze, the color draining from his face as realization dawned. his mouth opened slightly before closing again, his gaze shifting as he processed your words. slowly, he met your eyes, the unspoken confession hanging between you.
“you heard all of that?” he whispered, his face a mix of shock and something else, something deeper.
“i did,” you said softly, leaning closer. “& if you asked me, I don't think your secret is silly or terrible at all.”
jun blinked, a slow smile breaking through his shock as he processed your words, the last of his shyness melted away. “you really think so?” he asked as he reached for your hand, his fingers warm and tentative as they curled around yours. “if your secret is silly & terrible, then mine is too.”
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt fluff#svt#svt x reader#fanfic#seventeen x reader#moon junhui#moon junhui fluff#moon junhui x reader#moon junhui imagines#jun x reader#jun fluff#jun imagines#junhui x reader#junhui fluff
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A Lifeless Ordinary
IDW Scavengers x Reader
• “Found a thing.” Well, that’s not concerning at all, especially with the amount of screeching coming from whatever it is dangling from Spinister’s servos. Lifting his head, Krok vents because what even is that thing? “It’s loud,” Spinister adds in a tone that makes it hard to tell what if anything the big mech thinks about that, lifting it higher as it kicks tiny legs. Some kind of organic unlike anything he’s ever seen before and loud really is an understatement. Pity making him sit up straighter, because whatever it was to begin with, the poor thing’s life expectancy just dropped significantly in Spinister’s less than capable servos.
• Everything hurts, sliding into a confused nightmare that just won’t end. The facts just keep slipping through your fingers. You’d been at work, pain sudden and sharp, a feeling of being pulled apart. And then waking up on giant, metal monster world. Trying to run from a giant abomination, getting caught and then screaming yourself hoarse in its bruising grip. Struggling because you can barely breathe as you’re held up like the monster that caught you is showing you off to his giant buddies. There’s five of them? Six? It’s hard to tell when he’s swinging you around. You think they’re speaking, but none of it makes any sense, strange alien gibberish that terrifies you even more, because you can’t even reason with them. If you can’t understand them, they probably can’t understand you.
• “What is that noise?” Misfire asks and Krok swallows back a groan, because getting the thing away from Spinister likely just went from being difficult, to impossible as the rest of the Scavengers gather around, drawn by the sound. “This,” Spinister proudly lifts the little organic higher and its screaming breaks off into frantic sounds as Krok just shakes his head. “Thought about stepping on it,” Spinister adds.
• Maybe big and scary will drop you if you hurl on him, because if he keeps swinging you around to keep the other one from grabbing you, it’s happening. You’ll probably break your neck from the fall, but that might be marginally better than getting pulled in two by them fighting over you like a shiny, new toy. The rest are just watching, talking to each in that weird, alien language. Maybe taking bets on how long you’ll survive. Or on who gets to murder you. Sobbing, you struggle against the huge hand gripping you.
• “Let it go,” Krok tries as Misfire reaches for it to make Spinister growl a warning. And he knows Spinister well enough to know that if Misfire wants it, the other’s going to double down on keeping it. Shooting the tiny organic a pitying look, he gives up. It’s not like it has that long a life expectancy out here in this wasteland to begin with, but between Misfire and Spinister? It’s not going to last a rotation, but he tried. The little thing is still jabbering nonsense and struggling, nearly getting dropped and then caught again with a shriek. Oh, it’s definitely not going to survive and it’s not his problem. At all. Even telling himself that, he can’t help but watch it finally slump against Spinster’s servos, big eyes darting around at them as if looking for help. Meeting his optics with uncanny intelligence as its wide eyes start leaking. Frag him.
#transformers x reader#idw scavengers#IDW scavengers x reader#idw misfire#IDW spinister#idw krok#IDW crankcase#idw fulcrum
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Linked through pain
Tw: light violence, self harm, implied abuse, murder/assasination + first ever fanfic ive made public
Childe x g/n reader
might countine the story if this goes well!!
Fanfic under the cut!!!
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Ajax was 6 years old when he first found out about soulmates.
He remembers asking his parents why they had matching marks on their skin, and he remembers the way his mother smiled and crouched down to be on eye level with him as she explained.
"Every person has a soulmate, and every person is linked with their soulmate in a different way. Me and your father had a matching mark on our skin, my dear"
Listening to his mothers words made him curious, and he remembers asking one thing and one thing only.
"How will i know in what way me and my soulmate are linked?"
His mother only smiled in response.
"One day, you will just know"
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He was 9 years old when he woke up screaming.
Everything hurt, his entire body felt like it was on fire. His mother and father rushed into his room in a panic, worried for their son. His screaming had been so loud, he woke up his younger siblings. His mother was the first at his side, frantically asking him what happend and checking over his body for any signs of visible injuries.
When she found none, she simply hugged her son and rocked him back and forth until the screaming stopped. Once ajax was able to talk again, he tearfully told his parents that he had just woken up in horrible pain, and that was when they knew something was wrong.
His parents never said it out loud, but ajax knew they were worried. Worried, not for him, but for his soulmate.
That was the night ajax found out that he could feel his soulmates pain, and they could feel his.
That night was only the first, as ajax started waking up in horrible pain regulary.
After the first time it happend, ajax promised himself that one day, when he was older and stronger, he would find his soulmate.
And he would protect them so no one could hurt them like that ever again.
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He was 14 when he went missing for 3 days.
He was gone for 3 days, and once he came back, he was never quite the same.
He had gained a sudden bloodlust, and went from this soft, gentle young boy to this..
Monster.
Nobody said it to him, but he knew they were all thinking it.
Ajax started getting into fights with the other kids, beating them bloody, and yet it was never enough.
He had a thirst for more, and his parents couldnt give him that.
Once his parents couldnt handle him anymore, feeling like he had become a danger to everyone around him, they took the only option they had left.
He was 14 when he was sent off to the fatui.
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Military life suited him.
He did exceptionally well in combat, and rarely got into trouble.
Sometimes, his family would write to him, and he would always be happy to write back.
Ajax pushed himself to his limits and beyond on the battlefield, often times ending up with a broken bone or two after a fight, and his soulmate no doubt felt all of it.
Ajax was the cause of most of their shared pain these days, and he felt kind of bad because of it, but he just couldnt stop himself from testing his limits.
He just hoped they would forgive him for it one day.
They were still getting hurt too, but it wasnt as bad as it used to be, and ajax no longer woke up screaming in pain each night.
Everything was going just fine.
Until it wasnt.
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Ajax was 16 when it happend.
He had woken up in pain once again, but this time, it was different. His screams had been loud enough to wake the dead, and when someone came to check on him, they found him frantically clawing at his arms and wrists.
A few fatui soldiers attempted to pin him onto the floor, but when he couldnt scratch at his own skin anymore, he would scratch at anything and everything else. He kept saying the same thing over and over again, but among his screaming, nobody could figure out what he was trying to say.
And when they couldnt calm him down, they knocked him unconscious instead.
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When ajax woke up again, he couldnt remember much of what happend, but he remembered the pain.
His soulmates pain.
He had felt his soulmates pain before, but this time it was different. It wasnt like any of the other times, it wasnt like the shared pain he had felt as a child, it was like hell itself. His entire body felt like it had just gone through the worst kind of torture imaginable, and he wondered
"What kind of person can endure such pain?"
For ajax, that was the worst night of his life.
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They called it, 'the incident', and it had managed to catch a certain harbingers attention.
Pulcinella was a very reasonable man, and he saw potential in ajax. Potential for something more than just a fatui soldier.
It was his call that would forever change ajax's life, for better or worse.
He was 17 when he was awarded his harbinger titel.
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Ajax went by childe these days, and with his new position as a fatui harbinger, thoughts of his soulmate faded into the back of his mind.
He never stopped wishing he could meet them one day, to protect them from harm and be there for them, to grow old with them and start a family one day, but his work simply didnt allow him enough freetime to activly look for them.
'The incident' was the last time he woke up screaming in pain, and he could only hope it would stay as the last time forever.
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Childe stared at the busy streets of liyue through a window, waiting for the sun to set. Because when the sun set, all was fair game, and there would be no innocent people on the streets to get into the middle of what would go down tonight.
He didnt normally partake in debt collections, but he had been feeling especially bloodthirsty lately, and who was he to pass up on such a opportunity?
It was practically handed to him on a silver platter, after all.
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Through the now empty streets of liyue ran a young man, no older than 25. He had been running for what seemed like hours, trying to escape the unescapable, turning and jumping at every sound in the dark.
He was running like he was a mouse being chased by a owl, and in a way, he was. Just a prey being chased by a predator, praying to any god willing to listen to safe him from his ultimate demise.
It seemed the gods had answered his prayers, as the next moment he spotted a person walking near the harbor, looking no older than 19. He reconsidered his options for a moment, but he soon heard the laughter of the person he had been running from all this time, and with that his choice was made.
The young man grabbed the person by their hair, slapping his hand over their mouth and pulling them infront of him as a human shield. He didnt care if they got injured, as long as he could save himself.
A laugh came from the darkness as the person struggled against the mans grip.
"Do you really think a human shield will save you?"
Childes voice echoed throughout the empty streets of liyue. Footsteps could be heard coming closer, and it only caused the man to start panicking more, pulling on the hair of the person he had snatched.
"Boo"
Childe had always had a talent for sneaking up on people, and as the arrow of his bow hit the back of the mans head, he thought of it as pretty useful.
The mans body dropped limp to the ground, the arrow having pierced through his head, coming out on the other side and making for a nearly instant death. The person he had attempted to use as a human shield was still standing where he had held them, most likely paralyzed from shock, though visibly shacking. Childe almost felt bad for them, almost.
"Go, im not here for you"
That was all he needed to say, as the next moment, they had already started running as far away from the scene as possible. Childe watched them run, knowing his job here was done.
Atleast, thats what he thought.
Just as childe was about to turn around and leave the scene, he watched the person who was still running trip and fall flat onto their face, though they quickly got up again to keep running from the scene. He thought nothing of it at first, ready to leave aswell, until..
He felt a sharp pain on his face, like he had just fallen flat on it.
#childe x reader#childe#tartaglia#soulmates#g/n reader#childe tartaglia ajax#chapter 1#first fanfic#slow burn
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He Sure As Hell Ain't
the song
And I ain't sayin' he's a bad guy, all I know is that guy Must've up and lost his mind tonight
'Cause you're down to the ice in that drink He didn't buy, I'm here and he's MIA That ain't no kinda love, I ain't sayin' I'm the one I'm just sayin' he sure as hell ain't
Auston had been leaning at the bar for a while, casually observing the crowd in between sips of his drink. He wasn’t usually one to watch strangers, but his gaze kept circling back to her. She looked stunning, sitting alone at the corner table, her back straight, eyes glancing now and then toward the door. She was clearly waiting for someone—and had been for too long.
Auston couldn’t help but frown. She kept checking her phone, hope slowly giving way to disappointment each time she realized there were still no new messages. Her fingers traced circles on the rim of her glass, now just filled with watery ice from her once-full drink. It was obvious she’d been stood up, and Auston’s jaw clenched every time he noticed her eyes flit up to the door only to drop back down again, each look a little less hopeful. She deserved better than that; anyone could see it.
He tried to shake it off, tried to remind himself it was none of his business. But the song playing in the background kept drawing him back, the lyrics echoing his own thoughts:
"I ain't sayin' he's a bad guy, all I know is that guy Must've up and lost his mind tonight."
Watching her sit there alone, looking so out of place waiting on someone who didn’t value her enough to show up, bugged him. It bugged him in a way he couldn’t ignore. If she were his date, he wouldn’t have kept her waiting alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have left her wondering if he was ever going to show. There was something so frustratingly wrong about seeing her treated like that, as if she were nothing.
After what seemed like forever, Auston saw her let out a sigh, giving up on her drink and pushing it aside. That’s when he made up his mind. He wasn’t the kind to interfere, but he couldn’t just leave her sitting there alone, looking like the night had let her down.
He set down his own drink, took a breath, and walked over to her table, gently clearing his throat to get her attention.
She looked up, surprise flashing in her eyes, and he offered a small, disarming smile.
“Hey,” he said, nodding toward the empty seat across from her. “Mind if I join you?”
Her initial surprise melted into something softer, and after a second, she gestured toward the seat. “Please. I could use some company.”
He sat down, and up close, he could see just how pretty her eyes were, though there was a trace of sadness lingering in them. “I couldn’t help but notice,” he said gently, testing the waters, “looks like you were supposed to meet someone tonight?”
She sighed, a hint of frustration crossing her face as she glanced at the ice in her glass. “Yeah. But it seems like he decided to skip out. He didn’t even text.”
Auston felt his frustration grow even stronger. This guy didn’t just stand her up; he hadn’t even had the decency to tell her. Unbelievable. He shook his head with a rueful smile. “I’m not saying I’m perfect, but… no one should leave someone like you waiting around like that. Not saying I’m the one, but I know he sure as hell ain't.”
A genuine smile started to lift the corners of her mouth, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. “Thank you,” she said, a little laugh escaping her as she seemed to let go of the disappointment. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or embarrassed that a stranger had to step in.”
“Trust me, it’s his loss,” Auston said with a laugh, signaling to the bartender for another drink for her. “If I were that guy, I wouldn’t have kept you waiting.”
The bartender placed the drink in front of her, and she raised it with a shy, grateful smile. “Cheers to meeting better people at the bar, then?”
“Cheers,” he replied, clinking his glass against hers.
They spent the next hour talking, her laughter gradually filling the space around them, the disappointment she’d felt replaced with something warmer and brighter. Auston found himself wanting to hear everything about her—her favorite things, her pet peeves, and the little details that would’ve been wasted on a guy who hadn’t even shown up.
As the night went on, she laughed more freely, and he found himself leaning closer, the sounds of the bar fading into the background. He didn’t know what the future held, but he did know one thing—he wasn’t leaving her hanging.
Yeah, I bet he's got a real good excuse But right now, I wouldn't wanna be in his boots I'm lookin' at what he's got to lose Sittin' all alone tonight
#° braindead writes#auston matthews x reader#auston matthews imagines#auston matthews fanfic#nhl x reader#nhl imagine
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Then, with the fear on me of what might be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam Mina sat; and over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke it fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time—so still as one dead; and she grew whiter and ever whiter till the snow was not more pale; and no word she said. But when I drew near, she clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from head to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel. I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet:— "Will you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make a test of what she could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she stopped, and stood as one stricken. "Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and, coming back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply:— "I cannot!" and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!
So yesterday I wrote about how the land itself seems to be affecting Mina. Ever since they left the main road behind and began to approach the castle, she has seemed distinctly more vampiric. But this scene marks the start of another change, I think. Before this moment, she's in the same state as yesterday. When they travel, Mina's fully passed out throughout the day, and she gets alert at night. She's extra charming, she refuses to eat. She isn't aggressive, but she seems to hold an unnatural stillness and attention, much like how she lay where Van Helsing asked her to sleep the night before but simply watched him all night long. She's very quiet.
And then as he puts the holy ward around her, Mina starts to get very pale. The way she does so, and the way she gets paler as he completes this task, seems almost like she is being harmed or frozen by what he is doing. In fact, it reminds me a bit of what Lucy did when the men trapped her outside her crypt:
When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Van Helsing's iron nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death—if looks could kill—we saw it at that moment. And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry.
There are a couple key differences, of course. Mina lacks the rage that Lucy exhibited, and she isn't trying to get away. But something about the way they both just silently freeze and watch as the holy articles are used to keep them trapped feels very reminiscent to me. Also, Jack's entry says Lucy's color "became livid" - and while that word can simply mean angry, it can also be used to mean either reddened or pallid/pale. Given the association with color in how he uses it, I assume it would be one of those. So this could also be a potential connection here, if Lucy also paled in that situation.
But then when Van Helsing gets close to her (I think after he has finished the circle) Mina's reaction of clinging to him reminds me a lot of an entirely different moment: one between her and Jonathan on October 2.
The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me; but there was much to be talked of and I came away.
Jonathan was putting Mina to bed (where Dracula had attacked her and would come again) so he could go talk vampire-hunting with the other men. He was actively trying to convince himself throughout this period that the choice to leave her out was correct despite his own misgivings, and Mina herself was also trying not to show how much it bothered her. Still, the only other time Mina is described as "clinging" to someone was when she tried to stop Jonathan running off after Dracula on the 3rd. It's not something she typically does, and I highly suspect it was not just out of affection in this instance. Instead, there was some part of her, suppressed though it was, that knew she was in danger and was terrified to be alone. Mina clinging to Van Helsing here could be related to her fearing for him (as she does a short while later) but I think given her behavior right before this is more easily aligned to another instance of unconscious dread for herself affecting her. The holy circle has affected her and perhaps she fears it, or maybe she fears what its affect on her means. But it's unconscious. She doesn't know why she's doing it and can't express it in words.
Then Van Helsing asks her to leave the circle. And as soon as she does, she wakes up. She freezes in realization, and then she understands. This is Mina coming back to herself much more than before. The holy circle restraining her sort of acts in the same way seeing her scar in the mirror did in the past, by awakening her to the danger her soul is in. But it also does something else, I think, and this is where I get more speculative.
After Mina is put into the circle, her behavior starts to slowly change back. She's not straight back to normal, of course. But she is no longer being super charming during the night. Instead she sits calmly, knowing why she must stay in here. When the vampire women show up, she knows how safe she is from them - both because of the circle and more importantly because she is becoming like them. And yet she does not reply to them, and she expresses her worry for Van Helsing. She looks at them with revulsion and horror - seemingly unaffected by their sweetness.
And while Mina still falls into a deep sleep during the day, she is able to wake at some point in the middle of the day to let out the wail that awakens Van Helsing from his own trance. I suspect that this was around noon, given the significance of that timing, though we don't know for sure. Regardless, she seems to be acting extra-psychic, knowing when Van Helsing is in danger and knowing of Jonathan's approach. This seems less like vampiric magic and more like Mina's own psychic abilities to me. But the real kicker is how she looks when Van Helsing returns: bad. He tells us "She was looking thin and pale and weak; but her eyes were pure and glowed with fervour. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep."
After a day spent within the holy circle, Mina appears more human than she has lately. And perhaps some of that is the effect of the day itself (but that hasn't been mentioned the past few days) or maybe the death of the three nearby vampires has lessened the evil influence of the area (seems quite possible, but the change in her started before this). But I think a big part of that is the holy effect surrounding her helping to cleanse at least a little of the vampiric magic within her. It's not going to be enough to heal her, not without Dracula's death, but maybe it slows the process down a little, or at least protects her somewhat from the ambient evil aura that seemed to make her symptoms so much worse so suddenly.
#dracula daily#mina murray#didn't think of this until after i finished writing it out but it goes along decently well with the idea i had of jonathan in the hospital#getting the vampire essentially burnt out of him during his stay with the nuns#but his was a way less potent 'infection' than mina's so that wouldn't have worked for her fully#but the presence of holiness still might help even if it hurts in the process#my meta#dracula meta
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For a man supposedly having second thoughts, Takemura didn’t budge an inch, lips still on her neck and his thigh in between her legs. “Because you are…unwell. You should be resting.”
“I don’t want to rest. If I’m going to die I want to go out on a good note.”
“You are not going to die.”
“So say I live,” V said. Her voice was bitter but she was still curling around him like she thought he might actually pull away. “Then we’ll have plenty of time to catch up, will we?”
She never missed her mark when she was being nasty, but Takemura was clearly used to taking it on the chin. After a short, tense silence all he had to say was, “And Silverhand?”
Johnny would have preferred not being mentioned at all. He wasn’t going to ruin V’s chance at getting some decent head, especially considering her mood, but she had such shitty taste in men. And women, come to think of it. Cars. Clothing. Just a complete fucking gonk, from top to bottom. Sometimes made him wonder why he bothered.
<Don't say I never did nothing for you.>
“Forget about Johnny,” she said. “Is he the only one who gets to enjoy himself?”
“Mm.” Takemura sighed, making her shiver. “I think not.”
It was a bit of deja vu, to feel the old dog kissing her neck, the rasp of his beard over skin still sensitive from Kerry’s attention the night before. V had her eyes closed, so it was easy, even, to imagine it was Kerry back at it. Like it was Kerry’s hand skimming down over his bony rib cage and soft stomach, reaching the sickly hollow of his hip and dipping under the towel.
The illusion was shattered, of course, when V opened her eyes again to watch Takemura unwrap her like she was some expensive gift. But by then Johnny was already swimming too deep in her hormones, rapt with attention as Takemura began following the same trail his fingers had made with his mouth. Unlike Kerry he wasn’t the least bit surprised or bothered by her untamed bush, but then again he clearly already knew his way around.
V made a sound deep in her throat when he kissed her clit, eyes sliding closed again even as she bucked her hips. Johnny wondered if a brain dance could really replicate this feeling– he was always entwined with V in her head, but she was usually so damn miserable. And everything had always had that awful lag, like stuttering video over a bad connection. But now she was lit up like a Christmas tree, and for the first time they were burning in perfect sync, a bomb primed and clock ticking down.
#wip wthursday#finally on my time off so I am going to be posting obnoxiously sorry (not that sorry)#so excited to write this weirdly intimate scene from johnny's pov and then know#none of them are ever going to talk about this again#at this point it makes me chuffed to think valentine's gotten to johnny so that he could actually sort of enjoy this#she's rewired his brain. her brain. their brain. >:3#con: her brain is shutting down for real now. pro: the sex feels twice as great
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"rhaenys could have ended the war by dracarysing all the greens right there" yes because a distant relation to the throne deciding to barbecue an anointed and publicly positively hailed king and his entire family who is well loved within the city and in multiple other parts of the country for the sake of the succession of a far-away princess no one was ever on board with who hasn't been seen by the populace in literal years, her psycho husband, her three obvious bastards, and two toddlers from the psycho husband would go over super well with westeros and especially in king's landing where scores of the still-cheering population were killed for no reason by that same dragon who would do the barbecuing, because when targaryens act unilaterally without thinking of how the people would react there's never any problem, which is why the storming of the dragonpit and robert's rebellion were actually just collective delusions dreamed up by readers who hate rhaenyra and not key parts of the story and house targaryen's history that directly contributed to their demise and are intrinsic to the plot
truly team black stans are made up of only the most genius and media literate amongst us
#personal#house of the dragon#anti team black#i mean i guess??#like the crowd was cheering for aegon HARD#and they were always on board with aegon#and the hightowers are a powerful house with a lot of allies#and alicent and helaena specifically were well loved by the people in king's landing and the realm at large#and none of them ever liked rhaenyra or daemon who again have been MIA for basically a decade already#and again targaryens overreaching their power and not taking the people into account#is the reason why their house fell into oblivion and now rests entirely on a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL WHO IS THE ONLY ONE LEFT#if she roasted the dais the mob wouldn't have even let her leave they'd have killed her and meleys both in a heartbeat#storming of the dragonpit but a couple months earlier#the thing to remember is that i think a lot of team black stans are just kinda stupid#and do not care about the story at all or the actual intricacies of the world and its politics that is so important to the dance#(remember the rumors of rhaenyra mistreating helaena and alicent literally led to rhaenyra's death)#(because it led to the mobs and the storming of the dragonpit and the death of joffrey and her being driven out)#(and thus having to go to dragonstone where sunfyre got a little meal out of the whole debacle good for him)#(along with all of her ten million other shitty political decisions)#how do you profess to be pro-targaryen without even knowing targaryen history and where they erred and how that ended them#like *i* like the targaryens you guys have heard me talk about the conquerors all the livelong day#but i am also smart and i understand the world george created and the concept of repercussions#anyway yeah i am Annoyed at that new daemon clip (wow what a shock something annoyed me and had daemon in it)#(my least favorite character who could have foreseen this)
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I know Mickey said he likes them sweet in season 1 and yes this is mostly true because Ian can be very sweet particularly in the early seasons.
but also Mickey never would’ve been so down bad for Ian from the get go if Ian wasn’t also a bit of a messy asshole who was able to give as good as he got and was just as flawed and fucked up as Mickey. and Ian wouldn’t have been as interested in Mickey if Mickey wasn’t also the messy asshole he was. Ian was immediately smitten with the wild angry guy in front of him.
I mean they literally started fucking because they were beating each other up and got turned on by it.
#mickey milkovich#shameless#ian gallagher#gallavich#like I said before the reason they’re perfect for each other is because they are both as fucked up as each other#another reason why acting like Ian is angel baby cupcakes who’s done no wrong doesn’t make any sense#mickeys hurt by Ian’s actions but is able to forgive him because he’s always known Ian isn’t perfect#and vice versa#and he LIKES that Ian isn’t perfect. he doesn’t want that it would never work for him#it also kinda connects to why Ian is desperate for a normal relationship after he comes back from being with Monica#but why none of them ever worked out because what drew him to Mickey in the first place was Mickey’s darkness#see my post about Ian’s other relationships for more info about that#I feel like Mickey was endeared by Ian’s sweetness but what sealed the deal for him was Ian’s dark side#ian was smitten with mickeys wildness and anger and violence from the get go#but fell for his softer side all the same#but he doesn’t want one without the other#hence: ‘I want the shit talking piece of south side trash I fell for’#and ‘I don’t do normal Gallagher’. ‘me neither’#Ian in the later seasons still struggles with letting go of the idea of a ‘normal’ relationship#but any time Mickey is his usual fucked up self Ian can’t help but be like 🥰#shameless meta#gallavich meta#meta#again idk if this is even meta
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