#ro: lloyd

[arolloyd]

Yayyyyy more gifs...taken from that one tlnm sdcc announcement video

[ronearoundblindly]

What do the cevans + bucky guys do if someone's trying to move in on their girl? Someone with more of an in than a rando - an ex, a coworker, a friend.

So this took me a while because there's a difference between exactly who is making a move on you and exactly what your guy's situation is. I've done my best to generalize but also add enough context.

Warnings for some questionable reactions, language, and possessiveness. MINORS DNI.

James Mace

He's away for long periods, so I could see him being quite upset with someone getting too friendly while he's gone. Mace understands people are supportive of each other in stressful times; he can't be mad at you getting support, but if he ever caught that friendly, supportive guy touching you? Absolutely, a fight would break out. He's not bulky but scrappy as all hell, and he will viciously defend you(r relationship).

Curtis Everett

Possessive. Super duper possessive. If he gets a whiff of any other man in your life--in any part of your life--being interested in you, there's a 'talking to' that happens, and either the dude backs off respectfully or you never fucking see that guy again. All your exes are either dead to you or really dead. Period.

Jimmy Dobyne

Ok, shockingly, not that possessive. In some ways, he finds it flattering that others are interested in you. Why shouldn't they be? You're great. As far as them making an actual move on you, Jimmy expects you to shut it down firmly, quickly. The only time he'll get physically involved is if a guy tries to hit on you while you're drunk. Un-fucking-acceptable. Do not fucking try it, asshole. Jimmy don't care if that's your boss's boss or the goddamn governor. Step the fuck off his girl. You're allowed to enjoy yourself without fear of someone taking advantage

Johnny Storm

lol, what? What's going on? Unless Johnny sees or hears you distressed about it, he's not bothered. He trusts you, and he assumes you're having fun getting some attention unless you give him a look (or text) that says 'step in, please.'

Jake Jensen

Does the guy mind being doxxed? Does he want himself to suddenly receive subscriptions for gay BDSM magazines or have his personal number listed as a provider for STD treatment? "Hello, I'd like you to take care of my genital herpes." "Oh my god, man, my dick burns. You gotta help me!" "Uh, can you get crabs from a rimjob???"

Yeah. Go ahead, put that arm around Jake's woman and see what happens. Here's your copy of Anal Angels Monthly, dickhead.

Jake...won't actually tell you he's doing any of this, but he hopes that fucker goes insane or to jail. No big deal. What are you thinking for dinner, babe?

Lloyd Hansen

Um, he probably put you in the dude's path on purpose, honestly. Like you are there to distract while Lloyd works in the shadows of that guy's life and steals something, tortures someone, or lures them in to kill. Lloyd thinks it's nice you're so useful in this way.

If a nobody (to Lloyd) gets close to you, he doesn't really care because you know Lloyd's got that good D you'll come back to...🫣 He has his own criteria for who is nobody and who is somebody, and it doesn't really matter what you think of the person or who they are to you. They are you are either useful, or Lloyd doesn't care.

Ari Levinson

Whole thing about it here from Bedrock and Blueprints, but in general, I do see Ari as on-guard for you receiving unwanted (or wanted) attention from men close-r in your life. His go-to move is to plant himself like a brick wall beside you until you make it very, very clear to the guy that Ari is your one and only. He doesn't think of himself as a possessive person because he will do this subconsciously.

Ransom Drysdale

Usually gets nasty and snippy with you. How could you not shut down the flirting? How could you let the guy think he has a shot?? How come you didn't apologize to Ransom for the embarrassment??? It's bullshit, but good fucking luck getting Ran to see that...

Andy Barber

Mixed bag. Andy arbitrarily gets super-pissed or doesn't notice at all, based on the level of attention he's paying in a social situation. Maybe he's distracted by a case at work when you all are out at dinner with people, so the fact your recently-divorced coworker is thrilled by your concern for him goes right over Andy's head. Maybe you two are at a friend's wedding and your bestie from middle school wants you to come onto the dance floor with him for that song--the one you made up moves to back in the day,--but Andy refuses because you're his and promised him all the dances tonight. He's unpredictable without knowing the full context.

Steve Rogers

Whole thing about it here for Fools Rush In, but Steve doesn't really get flirting. He barely does it himself, so it's hard for him to recognize someone being too nice to you. Someone making a move on you--short of physically moving to take you somewhere--goes right over his head. He isn't the jealous type as long as there's trust between you. Steve might get a smidge frustrated if he can't relate/speak about huge, important subjects to you, but instead of being jealous of guys who can talk to you about those things, he just learns more about them to join the conversation. Pretty simple solution if you ask him.

If, however, the guy makes you uncomfortable, Steve will do everything possible to separate you from that, though he will do it discreetly in public so as not to draw more unwanted or uncomfortable attention.

Bucky Barnes

Highly unjealous until he is megajealous. No, those aren't words, but they are applicable. Bucky just lets most things roll off him like a duck in water when he's happy in a relationship. He'll start off a bit prickly while getting comfortable and gaining trust in you, but after that, he's all-in...until someone goes too far. If a guy you know is flirty or whatever, Buck's fine (excepting you don't seem mad or upset about it), but if one motherfucker professes his love for you and how you should ditch Bucky, etc, you'd be hard-pressed to find the words to stop Bucky from hunting that son of a bitch down. The guy would be forbidden from being near you, if you work together, someone has to quit, and if it's an ex? Well, likely that guy disappears off the face of the earth and his body is never found. The end.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[rockore]

When the flower is green....uh huh

[phoenixyfriend]

I heard a lot of things I wanted to share earlier today, but haven't reached a non-work computer until recently and was distracted by the airdrop news so I had to talk about that first. Most of the things that stood out to me were in the Democracy Now podcast, but I'll be linking the headlines from their website, which has text versions of the articles instead of just audio.

The Intercept: New York Times Exposé Lacks Evidence to Claim Hamas Weaponized Sexual Violence Oct. 7: Shortly after the first Hamas attack, the New York Times published an inflammatory article about systematic rape by Hamas soldiers. It initially intended to have an episode of The Daily (its podcast) about the topic, but the podcast's fact-checkers found that the article's writers had bent a lot of truths and their sources were often questionable at best; the needed rewrites for honest reporting were so comprehensive that the episode script was scrapped entirely. Goes over the ways in which the reporters manipulated facts and opinions, the NYT not really acknowledging the conflict, and how heavily it impacted international response to Israeli actions, especially by the US government.

From their Headlines page, the bold is their titles and the reset is my summary or additional references:

Defense Sec. Austin Refuses to Draw Line in Sand for Israel After Food Aid Massacre in Gaza - DS Austin is grilled by a congressmember and still doesn't commit to anything; notable is that he cites a death toll that is probably accurate to the estimates of real death, but not accurate to the confirmed deaths and so the numbers had to be later walked back by the Pentagon.

Washington’s Largest Union Backs Democratic Vote for “Uncommitted” Ahead of Primary - UFCW is joining the movement that Michigan got rolling. I talked about it more in a recent addition to this post, if you want to know more about which states are organizing to do the same.

Lebanese PM Says Gaza Ceasefire Would End Conflict on Its Border with Israel - Lebanon has been bombing northern Israel for a while now; this is just the 'if you leave Palestine alone, we'll stop sending explosives your way' message that's been broadcast for a while.

There are a number of other stories going on that aren't getting a huge amount of coverage on most platforms, like Texas's wildfires, or are just too complex for me to summarize (they have a longer article on the border visit and policy debate), but these three stood out to me, which is probably why they're the first ones mentioned.

[claraameliapond]

Brilliant. Congressman Ro Khanna brilliantly and expertly gets to the heart if the truth immediately , directly pinpointing the clear reality of unethical and disproportionate Israel and US conduct in Palestine during a congressional hearing on Thursday 29th February 2024, questioning US Defence Secretary Lloyd Austin.

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

Am sick can't sleep please grant me sleep I'm so tired I don't wanna be awake right now

[ronearoundblindly]

Dear. Sweet. Gentle. Cheesus.

First of all it was mind control you MADE THE STACHE WORSE, HOW fucking dare you!

Second of all:

because i loved it wait no i'm a whore for it NO NOT THAT--

because I have no one to blame but myself. I knew I created a monster, and I have now been slain by my creation. You dirty minx!!

fuck it, I'M tagging lloyd girlies @ellethespaceunicorn @jamneuromain @petalj @gremlin-girly

Crew Resource Management | Lloyd/f!reader

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS! This is not okay. At all. Though it's me so that's probably hilariously naive of me to say.

Summary: Lloyd pulls a practically unforgivable April Fool's prank WC/Warnings: 2,400 | Explicit sex, the mustache gets WORSE

Excerpt:

Lloyd’s leaning up against the wall reading a Russian newspaper when you bring the completed folder over. You can tell by the way his hands tighten on the newsprint that he heard your high heels clicking on the marble floor, but you’re wholly unprepared for what you see when he lowers the pages.

“Holy shit, is that a, a Chaplin mustache?” one of the armorers stutters, almost dropping the gun he’s cleaning.

“Not at all,” Lloyd says warmly--but now that you can see his face, there it is, clear as day. You can even see a little hint of stubble on either side of the damned thing.

The entire office falls silent.

CREW RESOURCE MANAGEMENT

“Wait, you’re dating that guy?”

“Dating? No. I’m not crazy.” You make a note to buy a pack of thumbtacks to jam into Raoul Belloq’s leather seats the next time you cross paths. “You should know your boss only told you my boss and I are involved to fuck up your dynamic on this op. Do better.”

“Rich to hear that phrase from a woman with so little self respect,” the woman says, but there’s an uneasy edge to her melodic French accent that tells you she doesn’t know about the Hansen-Belloq rivalry. Amateur.

“There’s self respect, and then there’s knowing what it’s like to be railed by that big meaty dick.” Your eyebrows lift skyward, and as you speak you can feel your neck doing that sassy thing Lloyd does when he’s being a douche. Ugh. Fucking is one thing, but mannerisms? 

Belloq’s loaner (Isabeau? Isolde? Whatever) is staring now, but Hinata just calls out from behind two monitors; “Oh, does he have a big penis too?” 

You snicker a little louder than you otherwise would have, just to ruffle ‘Isabette’s’ feathers. Before you can retort, a voice booms from the open doorway.

“You’ll never find out, Hin. You’re too ugly for a pity fuck.” Lloyd Hansen strides in, a rumpled folder in one hand. He holds it up in front of his face. “Someone pull out and redo the pages that have blood on them. I need these font-matched and printed in 30 minutes.” You hold out your hand, but he stops a foot away from the newcomer, waving his hand near his nose with his free hand. “Someone smells French.”

“Raoul told me you’d be rude,” the woman snaps.

“He told me you’d be mostly useless. Disprove the ‘mostly’ part.” Lloyd thrusts the folder right into her chest, spins on his heel, and stalks off to the coffee station.

“Free computer right here,” you offer.

‘Isadora’ rushes over, which is something, you suppose. She starts sorting the loose pages and mutters, “How can anyone work well together like this?”

“Closed ecosystem. Believe it or not, that ‘ugly’ line was a compliment.” Hinata grins. “He has terrible taste in women.”

“And that was an insult. A pretty lazy one, too,” you chime in, tuning your voice to a lower register to add, “Maybe it’s deserved; I have even worse taste in men.” From across the room, you see Lloyd tense up for a few seconds. He loves when you use that voice on him, but you’ve never done it at work before. Then again, your track record for reading him is abysmal, even weeks into… whatever the fuck the two of you are doing.

You focus on the task at hand, glad to see that Belloq isn’t as shitty at picking operatives as he is at inter-organizational ‘warfare.’

It’s just about 28 minutes later when you and ‘Isabert’ finish the job. You’d decided to print out everything and post-stress the paper so it doesn’t feel so ‘fresh,’ in case there’s a non-zero chance of matching printer quirks. 

Lloyd’s leaning up against the wall reading a Russian newspaper when you bring it over. You can tell by the way his hands tighten on the newsprint that he heard your high heels clicking on the marble floor, but you’re wholly unprepared for what you see when he lowers the pages.

“Holy shit, is that a, a Chaplin mustache?” one of the armorers stutters, almost dropping the gun he’s cleaning.

“Not at all,” Lloyd says warmly--but now that you can see his face, there it is, clear as day. You can even see a little hint of stubble on either side of the damned thing.

The entire office falls silent. 

“I give up. This is no fit place to work!” Belloq’s tech declares, clutching her things in front of her like a shield.

Lloyd smirks. “I knew you’d surrender.”

The rest of the day is taken up by work. Lloyd heads off to meet with an informant, leaving his phone behind as requested. Every so often it buzzes with messages and the screen wakes up, showing off that he’d changed the image to a movie poster for The Great Dictator. It’s almost the end of the day when you pass by the phone again, right as it buzzes with a rejected call.

The name listed is one you recognize. It’s a woman your team uses for disguises, including prosthetics and wigs. The message says, ‘Let me know how long it lasts. You know, for science.’ 

You’re almost disappointed--but just then, a string of profanity sounds out from behind one of the tech analyst’s computers.

“Share with the group?” you ask, instantly recognizing Lloyd’s influence in your vitriolic tone. Goddamnit.

“It’s April Fool’s today. I can’t believe I got excited about a DC/Marvel crossover film! Fucking Disney!”

Everyone left in the room starts talking at once, most of them saying they’d held back pointing out the ‘holiday’ to keep from ruining the ruse for anyone who didn’t realize. Soon enough they all trickle out, and you’re the only one left. 

It’s the day you and Lloyd usually have your Toxic Coworkers With Benefits time, but you pack up anyway. Far be it from you to meddle with science! He almost certainly didn’t get enough attention for his stunt, and you’d love to see him try to sleep without fucking the thing up--or will he show up with it looking ratty tomorrow and wait for someone to comment?

You go to lock up the main room, but the key doesn’t want to go in. You struggle with it for a second before you’re suddenly pulled back into a solid, familiar body. Lloyd’s hand slides around the waistband of your suit skirt, seeking the clasp. You stay silent and enjoy the adrenaline rush as he finds it, sliding all four fingers past it and abruptly turning them sideways.

He swears under his breath and pulls his hand back, growling in your ear and nipping at your shoulder through your jacket and blouse. 

“Oh no, did the metal clasp give you a boo-boo?” you croon. “I had to start buying the expensive ones because you popped the buttons off like four different ones, asshole.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the evidence of his interest through both sets of clothes. You arch your back for the friction, held close by his other hand heavy against your stomach. Lloyd chuckles and brings his injured hand up against your lips.

“Suck.”

You flick your tongue out to push against the boundaries of both his injury and his patience. Both are puny. You’re almost knocked off your feet by the suddenness of his movements, spinning you around and yanking the hem of your pencil skirt up to your waist. You catch a glimpse of his unzipped cream-colored trousers straining around the bulge of his dick, held up only by his still-cinched belt. He’s wearing dark crimson boxers, and it’s so fastidiously hot, you can’t resist pressing up against him, grabbing two handfuls of his preppy-ass shirt to pull his head down to kis--

You shove him away.

“Take it off.”

“Which part, honeymuffin?”

“The rat-tail under your nose.”

Lloyd strokes a languid hand along the thick line of his cock jutting through his gaping zipper and tuts. “You called this meaty earlier.”

You’re horny and pissed off, and absolutely not. In seconds, you’ve got your fingers digging at the edge of his outrageous lip prosthetic, ripping it off. Lloyd doubles over, one hand at his face and the other at his crotch, and all you can think is that he deserves it. Which is probably the most Lloyd-like thought you’ve ever had, Jesus fucking Christ, the things this man does to you.

You’re still standing there like a vengeful spurned lover (which you are. No way did he think you’d fuck him wearing that), the thrice-damned fake mustache prosthetic dangling from your hand when he stands up. He’s undone his belt buckle, so his pants drop to pool around his shoes, which is somehow hot. It’s unfair.

“I should have expected that,” Lloyd says, but he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds like he’s barely holding in the kind of glee that only comes out when he’s sniped Belloq’s target out from under him for free. 

Then his hand drops.

The Hitler mustache is still there.

“Somehow you’re more quiet now than when you’re choking on my cock,” Lloyd observes, obviously amused. “As usual, you didn’t see this coming.”

You shiver just thinking about it. He’s really good at getting you to orgasm unexpectedly. It’s his full lips and those clever, thick fingers, even more so his chaotic, corrosive personality.

“I can’t believe you made it worse!” you groan, unable to maintain your fury with the heat of arousal burning you up. Damn him.

He kicks sharply, pulling free of his puddled pants while somehow still looking darkly menacing as he advances on you, lips curving into a smile underneath that damned mustache.

You lift your chin. “I’m not fucking you with that thing on your face. No one is. No one hates themselves that much.”

“You do.” He’s approaching with stupidly sexy menace. “But you’re no desperate, obedient bitch. You’re a thoroughbred. You need to be broken.”

He stops two feet away and pulls off his polo in a single, fluid movement, reaching for his undershirt next. The two of you are standing in the foyer of your office space, and he’s stripping you emotionally bare even as he takes every scrap of his own clothing off. 

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, I will. Inside you.”

You are so screwed, because this is maybe everything you ever wanted. 

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you fix your eyes on his ridiculously offensive mustache and ignore the rest of his spectacular physique as best you can. He’s moving toward you, stalking you like prey, and you’re so wet he’s going to mock you for it.

“We’re both punishing ourselves here,” Lloyd says conversationally as he hooks the index finger from each hand into the thin lace of your panties, pulling them away from your hips as if testing the elastic. You tense up, ready for him to turn feral, ripping and taking and wrecking--but his expression turns as tender as you’ve ever seen it. He inclines his head, but you know him. His kisses are dominant, careless, pleasure-seeking on his behalf only.

You turn your head away, gritting your teeth, and that’s when Lloyd drags that motherfucking mustache from your chin across your cheek, ending with his soft lips whispering in your ear.

“Beg me.”

You’re corralled with so much tension on your underwear, his naked, muscular body looming over your mostly-clothed one, and one word keeps echoing in your head, his favorite rebuke, the one he’s somehow never wielded during your reckless intimacy. 

“Boring,” you spit. “Predictable.”

As you knew he would, Lloyd rips his hands away from your hips, tearing the delicate lace to shreds. With your head held high you yank your skirt back down, turn away from him, and head for the door, the sharp retorts of your high heels echoing off of the high ceiling.

You expect to be grabbed, for your sopping panties to strike the back of your head, for Lloyd to make a cutting remark that ends this tumultuous mistake between the two of you once and for all. Instead, you make it all the way to the elevator unmolested, and you don’t turn around, not even when the doors close and the car starts to move. It’s the only concession you make to the shameful ache in your chest. 

You tell yourself it’s because you don’t want that goddamned mustache to be the last part of his face you see--because he’s absolutely going to fire you.

Maybe you can go work for Belloq.

Deep breath in.

Long, unsatisfying breath out.

Too soon, the car stops and the doors open. You don’t have time to turn around before you’re propelled into the corner of the elevator by a panting, still-naked Lloyd. His expression is distorted in the reflective walls of the elevator, and you have to remind yourself to be scared instead of desperately turned on. He jabs his hand against the control panel and throws himself against you, hot and angry. An alarm starts to sound.

“I hired you for this,” he growls, thrusting three fingers inside you. It’s shocking and erotic, taking your breath away. “Only this. It’s all you’re good for.”

We’re both punishing ourselves.

“I love it when you talk dirty, baby,” you tell him in your most sultry, honeysoaked voice.

He lets out a grunt, grabbing your hips to anchor you for a punishing, glorious thrust. As ready as you are, the angle is almost too much, leaving you bruisingly full, fluttering your cunt against the intrusion in a way that draws a shuddering breath from Lloyd. Your hands ache from your tight grip on the railing, but you know what’s next; any second now he’ll start to piston in and out of you, driving both of you into a haze of pleasure-pain. With every second he waits, you crave that movement even more.

Lloyd holds still.

“Look at my reflection.”

“No.”

With the alarm blaring insistently, he presses his upper lip against your ear. The inveterate asshole has done this before, but his mustache was wider then.

“Look up.”

You need to be broken.

You close your eyes.

The crackling static of the intercom startles you into bearing down on his cock, prompting the hitched, involuntary moan you recognize as Lloyd’s highest praise.

“Is uh… Are you being-- do… do you need help?” 

Lloyd lifts his head. “That depends. You allergic to nuts?”

“Huh?”

“Turn off the alarm and fuck off, or you’ll show up at the ER with a throatful of your own testicles.”

“But--”

“Do as the gentleman says,” you rasp, deliberately using Lloyd’s favorite voice and arching your back. He starts to chuckle, caressing his hand against your hip before slamming first one, then the other against either side of the wall. 

You open your eyes without meaning to, embarrassment heating your face when you fully understand the rutting position he’s adopted. He rocks back and you make eye contact right as the static flares up again. The hapless building manager is completely drowned out by the noises both of you make when Lloyd starts fucking into you like he needs it to breathe. It’s ruinous, life-altering, far and away the best fuck of your life, eyes locked onto the ice blue triumph of your boss and his goddamned Statement Mustache.

note: the word 'pants' snuck in, sorry about that! Reader's in a skirt also I use 'somehow' a million times

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: don't ask me why I did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up. 

You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around. 

You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready. 

You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.  

“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl. 

You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite. 

“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head. 

You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you. 

You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window. 

You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off. 

It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. 

Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.” 

You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order! 

You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.

The blue loafers! 

“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out. 

You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all. 

You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders. 

“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.” 

You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you? 

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.” 

You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it. 

“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you. 

“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.” 

Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks. 

You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter. 

More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you. 

You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual. 

You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.  

You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him. 

“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests. 

You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that. 

“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers. 

You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise. 

As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?” 

You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again. 

His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces. 

You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.  

As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.  

You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone. 

You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime. 

“Hello, can I help you?” She asks. 

“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.” 

You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way. 

👄

When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you. 

You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic. 

You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger. 

You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner. 

You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway. 

You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him. 

👄

Wednesday. Halfway through the week.  

You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way. 

Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week. 

You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier. 

You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks. 

The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman. 

Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment. 

You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.” 

“No--” 

You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button. 

“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat. 

“I don--” 

You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--” 

“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery? 

“I’m not expecting a delivery.” 

“Are you...” he says your name again. 

“... yes.” 

Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?” 

“Uh, I guess.” 

You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation. 

You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole. 

You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.  

As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real. 

He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame. 

“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.” 

[1americanconservative]

@elonmusk

These awful people all need to be voted out, either in the primaries or the general election. They sully the Capitol Building with their presence.

THESE ARE THE 158 DEMOCRATS WHO VOTED AGAINST DEPORTING SEX OFFENDERS Alabama: -Terri Sewell California: -Pete Aguilar -Ami Bera -Julia Brownley -Salud Carbajal -Tony Cárdenas -Judy Chu -Jim Costa -Mark DeSaulnier -John Garamendi -Robert Garcia -Sylvia Garcia -Jimmy Gomez -Jared Huffman -Ro Khanna -Sydney Kamlager-Dove -Barbara Lee -Ted Lieu -Zoe Lofgren -Doris Matsui -Kevin Mullin -Grace Napolitano -Nancy Pelosi -Katie Porter -Linda Sánchez -Adam Schiff -Brad Sherman -Norma Torres -Mike Thompson -Maxine Waters Colorado: -Jason Crow -Diana DeGette -Brittany Pettersen -Joe Neguse Connecticut: -Rosa DeLauro -John Larson -James Himes Delaware: -Lisa Blunt Rochester Florida: -Kathy Castor -Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick -Lois Frankel -Maxwell Frost -Darren Soto -Frederica Wilson -Debbie Wasserman Schultz Georgia: -Sanford D. Bishop Jr. -Lucy McBath -Henry “Hank” Johnson -Nikema Williams -David Scott Hawaii: -Ed Case -Jill Tokuda Illinois: -Sean Casten -Danny Davis -Jesús “Chuy” Garcia -Jonathan Jackson -Raja Krishnamoorthi -Robin Kelly -Delia Ramirez -Janice Schakowsky -Mike Quigley -Bill Foster -Brad Schneider -Lauren Underwood Indiana: -André Carson Kentucky: -Morgan McGarvey Louisiana: -Troy Carter Maine: -Chellie Pingree Maryland: -Steny Hoyer -Glenn Ivey -Kweisi Mfume -Jamie Raskin C.A. Dutch Ruppersberger -John Sarbanes -David Trone Massachusetts: -Jake Auchincloss -Katherine Clark -Bill Keating -Seth Moulton -Ayanna Pressley -Richard Neal -Lori Trahan -James McGovern Michigan: -Dan Kildee -Debbie Dingell -Rashida Tlaib -Shri Thanedar -Haley Stevens Minnesota: -Betty McCollum -Ilhan Omar -Dean Phillips Mississippi: -Bennie Thompson Missouri: -Cori Bush -Emanuel Cleaver New Hampshire: -Ann Kuster New Jersey: -Andy Kim -Rob Menendez -Donald Norcross -Bonnie Watson Coleman -Frank Pallone New Mexico: -Melanie Stansbury -Teresa Leger Fernandez New York: -Jamaal Bowman -Adriano Espaillat -Hakeem Jeffries -Yvette Clarke -Gregory Meeks -Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez -Jerrold Nadler -Nydia Velázquez -Paul Tonko -Dan Goldman -Ritchie Torres -Grace Meng -Joseph Morelle North Carolina: -Alma Adams -Valerie Foushee -Deborah Ross Ohio: -Shontel Brown -Joyce Beatty -Greg Landsman Oregon: -Earl Blumenauer -Suzanne Bonamici -Valerie Hoyle Pennsylvania: -Madeleine Dean -Mary Scanlon -Summer Lee Rhode Island: -Gabe Amo South Carolina: -James Clyburn Tennessee: -Steve Cohen Texas: -Greg Casar -Veronica Escobar -Joaquin Castro -Sylvia Garcia -Lloyd Doggett -Lizzie Fletcher -Al Green -Jasmine Crockett -Marc Veasey Vermont: -Becca Balint Virginia: -Donald Beyer -Gerald Connolly -Jennifer McClellan -Bobby Scott Washington: -Suzan DelBene -Derek Kilmer -Rick Larsen -Marilyn Strickland -Pramila Jayapal Wisconsin: -Gwen Moore -Mark Pocan Source: Newsweek

[ronearoundblindly]

i mean, we've already written like half of it in Dms

🥴

the way i’m practically vibrating with excitement for the lloyd one shot @ronearoundblindly is possibly writing… it’s so good. SO GOOD.

[arolloyd]

Tbh I am a fan of how they made Lloyd a shy, socially awkward and insecure teenager in the movie 🤞🤞🤞🤞

[ronearoundblindly]

Made up fic title: ...and action!

From this ask game. It's amateur pornstar!Lloyd time!

[For a hot sec, I did think of Steve just being terrible at doing a commercial, BUT he was only good when he had the '40s Cap bravado on stage and in those Youth Lessons videos played at Peter Parker's school. So we are going the way funnier route of Lloyd embracing his horridness and straight up f**king for fame.]

Warnings for--you guessed it--sexual situations and smut lol. MINORS DNI. This post is not for you, bebes.

He plays a home inspector; you're a housewife in the middle of a divorce and trying to get whatever money you can out of the sale for this house. Lloyd is 'amateur' because this is a side gig that promises not money but getting off (both physically and egotistically), and he does not give a shit about the premise or lines.

The script calls for fucking you in every room. That's good enough for him.

Since there's intentionally not a love connection, even better, and Lloyd really leans into demeaning dirty talk which has you crying on his cock, bent over the kitchen island as he makes you repeat what he said was wrong.

GDFIs. You need to put GDFIs by the sink. For safety.

"You're not fucking safe, though, are you? Got nobody to spread these thick thighs for once this loser's gone, huh?" He slaps your ass and pulls out. "Next room, pumpkin."

He's surprised you last as long as you do before coming with a scream mid-dialogue. Lloyd improvises holding you on his cock so you don't fall off the fucking settee, and this tiny, genuine 'thank you' escapes you, eyes locked with his, before continuing as planned. Shit, he's not sure whether that meant thanks for the save or thanks for the orgasm, but he'll take either.

There's one instance he got soooo close to blowing his load early when you came on command--purposefully, scripted--but the reaction of your cunt was glorious and forceful. He's never made himself pull out before. He's never had a reason to delay. He's really, real-life mad he had to deny himself that, and he takes it out on you for the rest of the shoot.

Lloyd's just that little bit more mean, more intense, more evilly intimate. He can tell you are sincere when begging him to slow down, to give you a moment, but he doesn't. He knows you're going to come again, knows you'll probably squirt after that last water break had you chugging a whole bottle, and knows the camera is exactly where it needs to be.

Amateur? Sure. Grade A Fucker anyway? You bet your sweet, juicy ass he is.

You're...welcome????

[Main Masterlist; Fic Title Only Asks; Lloyd Hansen Masterlist]

[bookaddict24-7]

(New Young Adult Releases Coming Out Today! (October 1st, 2024)

___

Have I missed any new Young Adult releases? Have you added any of these books to your TBR? Let me know!

___

New Releases:

The Champions by Kara Thomas

The Dark Becomes Her by Judy I. Lin

Make My Wish Come True by Rachael Lippincott & Alyson Derrick

Killer House Party by Lily Anderson

No Rules Tonight by Kim Hyun Sook, Ryan Estrada (illustrator)

Some Like It Cold by Elle McNicholl

Heir by Sabaa Tahir

Inheritance of Scars by Crystal Seitz

Ros Demir is Not the One by Leyla Brittan

The Kiss of the Nightingale by Adi Denner

Class Act by Kelsey Rodkey

Three Things About Emmy Crawford by Allison L. Bitz

Gentlest of Wild Things by Sarah Underwood

There is No Map for This by Tom Birdseye

This Dark Paradise by Erin Luken

The Wild Huntress by Emily Lloyd-Jones

Remember Me Tomorrow by Farah Heron

New Sequels:

The Magic You Make (The Spells We Cast #2) by Jason June

Prince of Glass & Midnight (Princes #3) by Linsey Miller

The Brightness Between Us (The Darkness Outside Us #2) by Eliot Schrefer

Nothing Like the Movies (Better than the Movies #2) by Lynn Painter

___

Happy reading!

[ogzieoggleton]

For @thecatundertheladder

Everything about s8 remains the same up until the episode where Garmadon returns. He still steals a trashtruck and drives precariously to the prison. He then finds Harumi, and they ditch it to Kryptarium and just as business rambled on about his duty to kill his son. (No, he did not pay attention. He was ro invested in trying to figure out his body again.)

The commissioner comments on the absence nature of Garmadon. Instead of being violent he's just kinda pushing past them with no on being able to stop him. He only threw them off him and shoved them aside rather than attacked them wildly.

But the moment the doors of the prison open there is only silence and Lloyd’s unsteady breaths to keep him company as his father stumbles from the darkness, groping at the wall for his unable legs the seemed they could just snap under his weight no matter the lack of weight he actually had..

As Garmadon limped forward, Lloyd just stared in horror at how the man had fallen apart from his rebirth: his skin looked dry yet glistened with exhaustion; blood coated the cracks in the armour he wore; his red eyes were hazy and unfocused with one looking pale. A fragment of Lloyd’s true father..

But lloyd watched as Garmadon hobbled closer, letting him with nothing but baited breath and clenched fists. But of course, when Garmadon got close, nothing happened. He just stood above lloyd breathing heavily and staring at his son. He seemed to sniff him, tried to chew at him like a curious dog. And then he fell to the floor and sat there staring at him.

Lloyd just sat with him cross-legged on the floor with him.

In the meantime, Harumi was screaming at members of the SOG to do something while the Ninja sped their way to the prison to save both their friend and Garmadon. Lloyd just held put his hands and waited as Garmadon clumsily plopped his own paw-like hands into his sons.

Lloyd then pulled his father up and tried to run for the door only for the oni to fall on top of him as his legs gave way.. the SOG

The ninja arrived just as the SOG were trying to coax Garmadon into giving up Lloyd but he just kept his son in his arms protectively, growling beneath his breath as he used the limited stability to hold his son while standing protectively infront of him.

The ninja and the police (they saw everything still on TV and had their hopes) managed to threaten the SOG into letting Garmadon and Lloyd go but Harumi and other high ranking SOG get away and go into hiding for the time being.

(End of episode)

[vesivoro]

Lloyd locks the ninja in a room, including Cole who has and can punch through solid bricks. How the fuck is a wooden door supposed ro hold him?!!?

[1americanconservative]

@elonmusk

These awful people all need to be voted out, either in the primaries or the general election. They sully the Capitol Building with their presence.

THESE ARE THE 158 DEMOCRATS WHO VOTED AGAINST DEPORTING SEX OFFENDERS Alabama: -Terri Sewell California: -Pete Aguilar -Ami Bera -Julia Brownley -Salud Carbajal -Tony Cárdenas -Judy Chu -Jim Costa -Mark DeSaulnier -John Garamendi -Robert Garcia -Sylvia Garcia -Jimmy Gomez -Jared Huffman -Ro Khanna -Sydney Kamlager-Dove -Barbara Lee -Ted Lieu -Zoe Lofgren -Doris Matsui -Kevin Mullin -Grace Napolitano -Nancy Pelosi -Katie Porter -Linda Sánchez -Adam Schiff -Brad Sherman -Norma Torres -Mike Thompson -Maxine Waters Colorado: -Jason Crow -Diana DeGette -Brittany Pettersen -Joe Neguse Connecticut: -Rosa DeLauro -John Larson -James Himes Delaware: -Lisa Blunt Rochester Florida: -Kathy Castor -Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick -Lois Frankel -Maxwell Frost -Darren Soto -Frederica Wilson -Debbie Wasserman Schultz Georgia: -Sanford D. Bishop Jr. -Lucy McBath -Henry “Hank” Johnson -Nikema Williams -David Scott Hawaii: -Ed Case -Jill Tokuda Illinois: -Sean Casten -Danny Davis -Jesús “Chuy” Garcia -Jonathan Jackson -Raja Krishnamoorthi -Robin Kelly -Delia Ramirez -Janice Schakowsky -Mike Quigley -Bill Foster -Brad Schneider -Lauren Underwood Indiana: -André Carson Kentucky: -Morgan McGarvey Louisiana: -Troy Carter Maine: -Chellie Pingree Maryland: -Steny Hoyer -Glenn Ivey -Kweisi Mfume -Jamie Raskin C.A. Dutch Ruppersberger -John Sarbanes -David Trone Massachusetts: -Jake Auchincloss -Katherine Clark -Bill Keating -Seth Moulton -Ayanna Pressley -Richard Neal -Lori Trahan -James McGovern Michigan: -Dan Kildee -Debbie Dingell -Rashida Tlaib -Shri Thanedar -Haley Stevens Minnesota: -Betty McCollum -Ilhan Omar -Dean Phillips Mississippi: -Bennie Thompson Missouri: -Cori Bush -Emanuel Cleaver New Hampshire: -Ann Kuster New Jersey: -Andy Kim -Rob Menendez -Donald Norcross -Bonnie Watson Coleman -Frank Pallone New Mexico: -Melanie Stansbury -Teresa Leger Fernandez New York: -Jamaal Bowman -Adriano Espaillat -Hakeem Jeffries -Yvette Clarke -Gregory Meeks -Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez -Jerrold Nadler -Nydia Velázquez -Paul Tonko -Dan Goldman -Ritchie Torres -Grace Meng -Joseph Morelle North Carolina: -Alma Adams -Valerie Foushee -Deborah Ross Ohio: -Shontel Brown -Joyce Beatty -Greg Landsman Oregon: -Earl Blumenauer -Suzanne Bonamici -Valerie Hoyle Pennsylvania: -Madeleine Dean -Mary Scanlon -Summer Lee Rhode Island: -Gabe Amo South Carolina: -James Clyburn Tennessee: -Steve Cohen Texas: -Greg Casar -Veronica Escobar -Joaquin Castro -Sylvia Garcia -Lloyd Doggett -Lizzie Fletcher -Al Green -Jasmine Crockett -Marc Veasey Vermont: -Becca Balint Virginia: -Donald Beyer -Gerald Connolly -Jennifer McClellan -Bobby Scott Washington: -Suzan DelBene -Derek Kilmer -Rick Larsen -Marilyn Strickland -Pramila Jayapal Wisconsin: -Gwen Moore -Mark Pocan Source: Newsweek