#screws the repair truck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturnioz · 5 months ago

Note

hey

wait

what about

mechanic!matt…………..he been told you to get rid of your car but you don’t have the money for it, the uni semester has already been off to a chaotic start, and PLUS it was a gift from your grandpa on your 18th :(

i lowkey kinda fucked up this req and changed it a bit cos i struggled to write it :| i wrote meeting mechanic!matt for the first time instead my bad my bad my bad. but welcome mechanic!matt <3

you're freaking out.

you're freaking out so bad you're teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, overwhelmed by a storm of emotions as you stand in the middle of the auto repair shop.

you've been so stressed; your new semester had a chaotic start, your classes keeping you unbelievably busy. to make matters worse, you've also had a painful falling out with your best friend, the kind of rift that feels like a gaping wound. on top of that, you recent breakup still fucking stings and you feel like you're going to throw up every time you cross paths.

and now, as if the universe is conspiring against you, your car has betrayed you, refusing to start in the middle of the road when you were on your way home. (the embarrassment of having to call a tow truck had only made it worse).

the constant sounds of clanging metal and the low hum of machinery surrounds you, gnawing at your nerves, overstimulating you. you close your eyes and rub your temples, desperately trying to block out the flickering overhead lights that create disorientating flashes behind your eyelids.

the air was thick too, heavy with the scent of motor oil and burnt rubber, a pungent reminder of your current predicament that makes your stomach churn with nausea, and you feel an overwhelming urge to escape, to bolt out the fucking door and leave this place behind.

but you can't.

you can't abandon your car — your baby, a precious gift from your grandpa.

with a deep breath, you peel your eyes open, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you scan the bustling shop for the beefy man who greeted you when you first arrived. you're desperate for answers, anxious to find out if your car is truly fucked.

oh god, you wanted to cry. the thought of the repair costs makes you stomach twist. how much money will you have to spend? money that you don't even have. panic instantly washes over you.

you're screwed. you're done. you're hopeless. you're—

"hey," a voice jolts you from your spiralling thoughts, and you snap around, bracing yourself to confront the man you were searching for, but instead, you're taken aback by someone completely different.

he stands before you, hair tousled, strands falling over his light blue eyes. he's wearing a snug black tank top and dark blue overalls, the sleeves casually wrapped around his slim waist, showcasing a patchwork tattooed arm. his hands are smeared with grease and oil, evidence of a long day spent working on cars, and he nonchalantly twirls a wrench around his finger while chewing gum, casualness radiating from him as he stares at you.

"how bad is she?" you dare to ask, your voice trembles slightly, a mix of fear and hope surfacing in your chest.

the corner of his lips twitches slightly at your words before he begins. "she's not doin' too good." your heart sinks, a lump forming in your throat as you brace yourself for what's coming. "for starters, your battery is dead, but there's some damage done to the ignition system too... s'likely that the stater's shot, and the alternator needs replacing too."

you swallow hard, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch in the gut, and the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. "how... how much are we talking?"

"could be a couple hundred for the battery 'n starter, maybe more dependin' on what else i find when i dig deeper," his fingers rhythmically tap against the wrench in his hands, chewing his gum slowly as he admits, "not gonna lie t'you, sweetheart — s'not gonna be cheap."

"fuck," another wave of panic rises within you, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. you feel so helpless. "i uh, i don't, i.. i can't, i—"

"hey," he says again, his voice steady and soothing as he gets your attention. your watery eyes snap to his when you feel his hand touch your shoulder gently. you don't even care about the grease and oil staining your shirt right now. "take a deep breathe, yeah? in and out. eeeeasy."

you nod quickly, following his instructions, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, trying to regain control over the rapid beating of your heart. your skin feels clammy, and your head is fuzzy, but his calm demeanour seems to help anchor you.

"there we go.. that's it," he hums softly, squeezing your arm as he nods in approval. "now, talk t'me. slowly."

"i... i can't afford it," you whisper defeatedly. "i don't have a job right now, i can't. i don't know how i'm going to pay for all this."

he studies you quietly for a moment, his gaze shifting from concern to something more contemplative. "we can figure somethin' out... sellin' the parts might be—"

"no!" you blurt out, shaking your head sharply. the suddenness of your response catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at your defiance. "i'm sorry, i... i can't sell it."

he lifts his hand to scratch at his cheek, squinting his eyes as he processes your reaction. "you uh, y'not makin' this easy, sweetheart—"

"i know, but i can't sell it," you insist with a soft sigh. "it means a lot to me.. please? is there another way?"

he studies you again, standing in silence, and you hold his gaze, hoping he'll come up with a solution. you watch as he takes a step closer, lowering his voice as if he's sharing a secret.

"what if.. we work somethin' out?" he suggests. "i'll uh, i'll fix your car for cheap — maybe for nothin' if you do somethin' for me?"

"what are you suggesting?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

he grins, revealing his pearly whites as he chews his gum, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if he hadn't just proposed something so serious and sudden. he doesn't answer you, which makes you prompt the question again, and he keeps the grin on his face as he turns and walks further into the shop, casting a glance over his shoulder at you, a silent invitation to follow him.

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ mechanic!matt #꒰ mechanic!matt prompt ꒱

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

Text

Negan x reader - trade skill

Hello. I was wondering if you could please do Negan X reader, where Negan is unable to find Lucille and thinks that someone has taken her. So he has people to search every area in Alexandria (I think it is), only to later find out that Y/N took Lucille in order to clean and repair her, and accidentally forgot to notify him. - Anon💜

You didn’t know why a lot of the saviours were taken to Alexandria, you had a thought maybe it had something to do with Rick not doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You weren’t all too sure but you didn’t really have the time to find out either, you were busy with your own project which is why you refused Dwight when he came to get you to go with him.

Was it the smartest choice?

Definitely not, and you knew you were going to get it in the neck from him and most likely Negan after, but you were always in some kind of trouble.

Sitting on your bed, you picked up the pair of wire cutters, carefully getting ready to cut the barbed wire.

You had already caught your arm once, you just tired a bandanna around it and carried on working.

You had to be careful, you didn’t was to break it, and you had to do everything exactly right otherwise you would be more screwed than you were going to be.

Setting the old barbed wire aside on the floor, you picked up the new one and looked at it.

It was a little rusted with the weather, but it was in a lot better condition than the other one.

Wrapping it around like the other was, you nodded to yourself a little.

Setting the bat aside, you got up, grabbing everything you had been using to fix it you shoved it into a box and left the room.

Making your way down to where the workers were, you walked over and set the box down.

“I’ve not used it all so I’m sure someone can get some use out of it.” You said.

The man looked up, nodding her head as she set the box on the floor.

Humming to yourself, you began to browse through the other things that were laid out on the table, looking for something of interest.

Finding nothing, you decided to head outside instead, looking for some part of a fallen tree or a decent sized branch for a new project.

“Hey (Y/N)?”

You looked to one of the other saviours.

“We got problem with the walkers out front, a few got free somehow.”

You sighed, stopped what you were doing and you pulled out your knife, following him to the front where some of the walkers were banging on the fence.

“You said a fucking few, this is a mini horde dumbass.”

He just shrugged and you glared at him.

“Go get the fucking pole idiot.”

He grabbed the pole and you tried to make quick work of clearing the walkers that were building up.

You heard the cars and trucks pulling up and you ignored it, stabbing the final walker in the head, you turned to the man who went to leave.

“Not so fast, you’re waiting here I’ll deal with your ass in a minute.”

Opening the gate, you walked through the bodies, maybe your way to the far end of the fence, slowly looking along it.

For the walkers to get in the gap would have had to be pretty big, so it wasn’t hard to finally find it.

Kneeling down, you carefully inspected the fence and grabbed some zip ties from your jacket to seal it temporarily for now.

Making your way back over you looked at Simon.

“Sort your dumbass out Simon, this fucker hasn’t been checking the fence, there’s a massive hole.”

“You fix things, you sort it.” He said.

“Not my job asshole.”

He stuck his middle finger up at you and you did the same thing, walking over to the doors to head back inside but you stopped by Dwight.

“What was the trip about anyway?”

He glanced at you.

“He’s pissed someone took that stupid bat of his, I’d stay clear.”

You slowly nodded your head and glanced at the leader.

You had three options, either sneak the bat back into his room, leave it somewhere for someone else or come clean.

You didn’t want someone else to take the heat for your actions, and you couldn’t exactly sneak it into his room so with a heavy sigh, you walked over to where he was stood.

“Negan?”

“What?” He snapped.

He turned around and glared at you and you subconsciously took a step back.

“I know where Lucille is…” you mumbled.

“Where?!”

“I uh… could you follow me?”

Negan didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, and you took his to your room, opening the door and you gestured to the table.

He walked inside, picking up the bat, carefully inspecting it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with her?”

He slowly turned around and you stepped inside the room, closing the door so nobody passing by could look in.

“I uh.. I forgot to tell you…”

“What the fuck were you doing with her?” He growled out.

You sighed, heading under your table you pulled out a box and set it down, showing him to contents.

“I noticed that Lucille was breaking, and you left her on the table so I decided to fix her and forgot to tell you.”

“Why?”

You shrugged a little.

“I like fixing things a guess, plus you wouldn’t be Negan without Lucille.”

Negan stared at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you could feel his eyes practically burning into you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still angry or not, and part of you didn’t want to know.

At least if he wanted to kill you for taking his beloved bat then you wouldn’t see it coming so it would make it easier.

“Look at me.”

You took the box, setting it back under the table and began to inspect a few of your things, just doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“I said look. At. Me.”

You turned around, connecting your eyes with his, he wore a blank expression and you watched as he slowly began to grin.

It was that grin that sent a chill down your spine, the same grin that you knew was the last thing some people saw.

“She looks just as good as the first day I made her, shit (Y/N), if I knew you were so handy I woulda moved you ranks ages ago.”

He put the bat on his shoulder, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he looked at you.

“What do you want? Name me one thing and it’s yours.”

“Anything?”

“Damn straight.”

You went quiet for a moment.

“You got anything else I can fix?”

Negan blinked a little in confusion.

“I just gave you permission to ask for anything, anything you fuckin’ want, anything at all, and you want to fix shit?”

You shrugged a little and he laughed.

“Fucking weird as ball man, but alright. I got a few things for you, you’re to return them directly to me.”

“Yes sir.”

Negan began looking around at a few things you had already repaired and made.

It was why he kept you around at first, you were just handy when it came to fixing something that had broke.

He turned around to look over at you.

“How’d you know how to fix her?”

You paused what you were doing.

“My dad owned a repair shop, mostly just household shit, but he could fix up other crap too, loved baseball.”

Negan slowly nodded his head.

“Next time you take Lucille without asked I’ll start breaking fingers.”

“Understood.”

He smirked at you, and he picked up a little figurine you had fixed of a baseball player you didn’t even know the name to.

“I’m taking this too.”

With that he left and you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe you shouldn’t have drawn more attention to yourself, but in the world it was now, you needed to have people you could rely on, so you needed to prove yourself to Negan if you wanted a chance of being kept around and surviving.

Maybe you didn’t agree with how he did things, but you sometimes had to do these things in order to survive

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan smith x y/n #Negan smith imagine

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sjsmith56 · 5 months ago

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A Better Man, Part 3 - Structure

Summary: Andrea moves into Bucky’s apartment with the help of two of his guys, Clint and Scott. Steve and Sam prepare for their double date with Natasha and a friend.

Length: 4.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Andrea, Clint Barton, Scott Lang, Sam, Steve.

Warnings: Some assumptions made about why Bucky’s helping Andrea. Some slight jealousy on his part, and a brief moment of panic when he sees something.

Author notes: Some more back story about Bucky.

<<Part 2

Part 3

The following day, Andrea and Lily moved to Bucky’s apartment. He assigned Clint and Scott to the truck, telling them to take whatever furniture Miss Hart wanted to take with her, while he helped her with her personal possessions. There was a moment when he looked at both men with a degree of exasperation when he told them to get a third man to help them when they returned the following day for the rest of her furniture.

“Which fence are we using?” asked Clint, assuming the furniture was stolen.

“No fence,” replied Bucky. “It’s going into my personal storage locker at SHIELD Storage.”

The two men looked at each other. “Boss, we’re not fencing this stuff?”

“No, this is a legit job, boys,” he said. “We’re going to move all her furniture, rewire her house, do some demolition to uncover some leaks and repair them, replace her roof and two windows. We’ll see what else needs doing as we go along. Then, when we’re finished, we’re moving her furniture back.”

“I don’t think I’ve done a legit job for you in the two years since I got out of prison,” said Scott. “What gives?”

Andrea appeared then, with a box from her bathroom, startling Bucky. “Where do you want me to put the things that are going to the apartment?” she asked.

“Right here is fine,” smiled Clint, who was quicker to catch on than Scott when he noticed how his boss reacted. “Why don’t you show me your daughter’s room, so I know which furniture pieces to take.”

“Sure, follow me,” she smiled.

Bucky waited until they were out of earshot. “She doesn’t know about the other things my company does. She’s had a tough break and I’m helping her out with fixing her place up because the bank wouldn’t give her the money to do it.”

“Ah, I get it,” said Scott, nodding his head. “Higher interest rate for the “loan” and if she doesn’t come through with the payments, then you put her to work. She’s cute; could bring in some coin with the right customers. Unless you want her for yourself.”

“No, it’s not like that, Scott,” sighed Bucky. “I don’t do things like that. You know what? Just move her things like I told you. Keep your mouth shut and don’t talk about being in prison. Tell Luis as well. I’m assuming you’re going to ask him to help move the rest of her things to the storage locker.” Scott shrugged then nodded. “Fine, but just don’t let on to her what my company really does. She’s a nice lady.”

“You got it.”

Scott picked up the box Andrea just brought out and took it out to the truck. When he got back Clint called him into the baby’s room where he had already partially taken apart the crib. Being a father himself he knew how to do it and had a zip lock bag for all the screws that would be needed to reassemble it. The two men spoke quietly about their boss doing a favour for this admittedly nice lady, mostly wondering what was in it for him. It was most unusual.

In Andrea’s room, Bucky was helping her pack clothing, then taking the suitcases and boxes out to the truck. They didn’t talk much but they were very much aware of each other. Helping her pack was a benign activity, but he found himself actually enjoying it. With her, he wasn’t Boss, the owner of a general contracting company that did a lot of side jobs for the mob, and other criminals. He was just Bucky, a regular guy. Lily, who was on the bed, sat happily watching them both. When she became hungry and began fussing, he excused himself, closing the door so Andrea could nurse her. Even that felt natural, giving her space to be a mother.

Clint and Scott were carrying the small dresser / change table from the baby’s room down the hallway. He went in, saw the crib mattress was still there and carried that out to the truck. Just a few more boxes would finish that room. Looking at how full the truck was Bucky wondered where it would all fit at his place. How could a baby have this much stuff? Clint saw where he was looking and grinned as Scott returned to the house.

“Babies need a lot,” he commented. “When Laura and I had our first we lived in a small one-bedroom flat. It was tight but we made it work. Of course, when she got pregnant again, we needed to move somewhere bigger.” Bucky smiled slightly but Clint could tell the man was worried. “Buck, who is she?”

“Rumlow’s ex-girlfriend. The baby is his daughter. She wants nothing to do with him.”

“Can’t say I blame her. He’s a real piece of work. Is she your girlfriend now? Is that why she’s moving in with you?”

“No. She had nowhere to live while I fix her house, so I offered my place to her.”

He gave his boss an appraising look, then patted him warmly on the arm and returned to the house. Bucky liked that about his guys. Without an exception they were decent guys at a basic level. Although many of his employees had served time for one thing or another, he never hired anyone who had committed a violent offence. No murderers, no rapists, or anyone that had assaulted a person during a crime. Hurting women, children, or senior citizens was seen by all of them as being the mark of an animal. About half of his employees, like Clint, were married family men. Unable to get a decent job that allowed them to support their families, with Barnes Contracting they had work that was usually manual labour but occasionally involved other illegal activities, mostly transporting stolen goods as needed by various criminal groups. Bucky drew the line at any violent crime, not taking any jobs that involved murder, assault, or kidnapping. Hydra Contracting didn’t have such morals and the owner’s nephew, Brock Rumlow, could be a very violent man.

An hour later they were packed up and on their way to the apartment. Bucky, who came with Clint and Scott in the truck, rode back with Andrea in her car. He had already arranged for the two men to use the service dock and elevator for the truck contents, but he directed Andrea to the regular parking garage door. Pulling a card out of his wallet, he handed it to her, gesturing for her to hold it over the sensor so the door opened.

“This is yours,” he said. “I have two spots but only use one. Don’t leave it in the car if you go out. If someone steals it, they can access the building.”

“Do I get my own keys?” she asked, as she entered the large space.

“Of course,” he answered. “They’re at security.”

He directed her to the parking spot and got out of the car. She came around to the passenger side back door and opened it, undoing the restraints on the baby carrier that Lily was in. Bucky took a couple of suitcases from the car and waited for her to join him at the elevator lobby.

“There are four resident elevators,” he explained. “Four suites per floor, except for the penthouse which has its own private access. You need the key card to slide into the reader and it takes you directly to the suite. Visitors have to be admitted by security and only after the resident has confirmed that they can come up. You can lock down the elevator door into the suite if you want to prevent anyone from entering that manages to get to the floor.”

“Is everyone who lives here paranoid, or something?” she asked, amused.

“Something like that,” he answered, his face serious. “Let’s just say we paid a lot of money for this type of security, and we all have a reason for it. We have to make a stop at the security desk so they can take your picture and Lily’s. Only they can issue an elevator key card.”

Her face dropped a little at that bit of news, but she followed him onto the elevator. After the brief ascent, the doors opened, and he escorted her into a richly appointed lobby area. Nodding his head at the guard on duty, Bucky presented his resident’s card.

“I need to register Miss Hart and her daughter as living with me for the next three months,” he said. “I have given her one of the two garage cards in my possession for the parking garage. She needs an elevator card. The truck with her possessions should be arriving at the service dock within minutes. The two men bringing her things are already registered with you.”

He gave the man Clint and Scott’s name, then signed several forms as Andrea watched, somewhat concerned at all the formalities. She was told to stand in front of a small digital camera and stand still for a moment without smiling. Lily had to come out of her carrier and held up for the same thing but at least they didn’t try to stop her from having a happy face. Several minutes later Andrea received the elevator card, and both her and Lily’s resident card. From there, they could finally ascend to the 21st floor where the elevator opened directly into Bucky’s apartment, a bright and modern space.

“This is it,” he said. “Three bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, plus there is a powder room for visitors. I’ve made the third bedroom into a home gym since I usually don’t have the inclination to go to the one on site. Feel free to use either.” He gestured towards the large wall of windows that were very visible from where they stood. “It’s open plan, combined living / dining, and kitchen. Come on, I’ll show you where you and Lily can sleep.”

He led her down a short hallway, stopping to show her the home gym. Next to it was a large bedroom with a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, a walk-in closet with built in drawers, a small seating area, and a wall-mounted TV. Like the open plan area, the exterior wall was all glass, giving an impressive view of the city. Placing the suitcases on the bed he stood there, watching Andrea’s reaction to everything.

“It’s really nice,” she said, looking back at him from where she stood in front of the window. “Are the rooms soundproofed? I won’t hear you using your gym or if you have an overnight guest, will I?”

“I don’t date,” he answered, feeling his cheeks become warm. “My room is on the other side of the apartment. The rooms are very well soundproofed but if you hear anything from the gym, please let me know. I don’t have to be in there in the middle of the night.”

He wanted to walk over to where Andrea was standing and take in the view with her, but he heard the indicator of the elevator arriving and left her there. It was Clint and Scott, bringing up the change table and crib pieces on a flatbed dolly. They had been at his place before, and he told them to take everything except the food to the guest bedroom. The food would go into the kitchen to be added to his own supply. Returning down to the parking garage, Bucky retrieved everything that was packed in her vehicle, including the stroller. As he went up the elevator with it, he couldn’t help but picture himself going for walks with Andrea and Lily. It brought a smile to his face that he still had when the elevator doors opened.

“Good, you’re back,” said Scott, who was waiting for the elevator. “Clint is assembling the crib, so I need help for the rest of the stuff.”

It made sense that Clint would take on that task, but Bucky felt a small sense of jealousy of not being the one to assemble it. He already felt a sense of responsibility for Andrea and Lily; the thought of another man doing something that he wanted to do bothered him. Being bothered by it bothered him. For the next while he helped Scott unload the truck. On several of the returns he found Clint and Andrea just standing there, talking, and laughing. What is he doing? Is he flirting with her? He’s a married man. His temper became shorter with each trip, until he dropped the final box of clothing with a thud on the floor of the guest bedroom, startling both of them. Even Lily, sitting on a blanket in front of the window, jumped.

“Are you done here?” he asked Clint. “Scott needs help bringing the food from the pantry and fridge.”

“Yeah, Boss,” smiled the older man. “We were just sharing baby stories. It’s been a while since I was around a six-month old. The things that she’s gonna do in the next year are going to blow Andrea’s mind.”

They’re on a first-name basis? Jesus fucking ….

Recognizing the look that was forming on Bucky’s face, Clint said his goodbyes to Andrea and left. She seemed oblivious to Bucky’s mood, ignoring how tense he seemed.

“He’s so nice,” she said, as she unpacked a box of clothing onto the bed, sorting it. “Thinks the world of you, Steve, and Sam. Said you helped him through a tough time. I guess you really are one of the good ones.”

Shit, why did he have to say that to her? Just when he was building up a good mad at Clint.

“I’m not really but I try to treat people fairly.” That was lame. “Do you need help unpacking?”

“Sure, just grab a suitcase and open it. I can tell you where I want the contents to go. It sure is nice having built-in cabinetry in the closet. Without dressers in here the room is plenty big enough for the crib and change table.”

He opened a suitcase then closed it again, quickly. It was the one with her lingerie in it. He couldn’t handle those items, not without …. Shit, shit, fuck, fuck. Why did I think of that? Andrea looked over at him, frowning, then reached over and opened it. A small smile on her face was the only sign she understood his reaction.

“Why don’t I handle the clothing, and you go start unpacking the food boxes?” she suggested.

Only too happy to take Andrea’s suggestion, Bucky went to the kitchen, where a couple of boxes waited to be opened. He took everything out, assembling it on the large kitchen island, then began transferring them to his mostly bare pantry. By then Scott and Clint came up with a fully loaded dolly and brought it into the kitchen, stacking the boxes on the counter.

“That’s it, boss,” said Clint. “You need us to help unpack this lot?”

He glanced at the pair and shook his head. “No, you’ve done enough.” Realizing that sounded petty he stopped what he was doing. “Thanks for coming out. You’ll be at Andrea’s place tomorrow with Luis for the rest?”

“Could we have another person?” asked Clint. “Some of her furniture is older stuff that she inherited from her grandmother. That stuff was built to last and is a lot heavier than the newer things.”

“Sure, see who’s in the warehouse tomorrow morning and take your pick,” answered Bucky. “Do you want to be on the general construction crew for her renovation? Clint, you’ve done renovations before, right?”

“Yeah, I've done roofing, finishing, drywall, and painting, too. Maybe we should get more of the guys used to doing real work. Give them a taste of how the rest of the world makes a living.”

“Probably a good idea,” said Bucky. “Get an idea of who’s interested. I have to do some exploratory work first on the areas she wants done and submit plans to the borough for the permits.” The other two men looked at each other. Bucky was getting permits for this renovation? Bucky looked up again. “Are we good here? See you tomorrow when I stop by the house.”

With a nod and a quick stop to say goodbye to Andrea the two men left and went down the elevator. It didn’t need a card to descend but they still stopped at the security desk to say they had finished and were leaving the loading dock. Not much was said between them on the drive back, then just before Clint pulled into the street where the warehouse was Scott cleared his throat.

“Do you think Bucky is thinking of going legit?”

“What makes you say that?” asked Clint, although he had been thinking it the entire trip over.

“No fence for the furniture, he’s doing a legal renovation, no cutting corners, and he gives this woman and her baby a place to stay while he’s working on her place. At first, I thought it was a play to get into her pants or turn her into a working girl, but he shot that down pretty fast.”

“You ever been in love, real love?” Clint looked at Scott as they waited for someone to remote open the gate into the warehouse yard. Scott shook his head. “Take it from me. He’s got it bad for her. He got hurt bad a few years ago by his girlfriend at the time. I didn’t think he would ever trust another woman again, but this one has got under his skin and to be honest, I think it’s a good thing. I think being around her makes him want to be a better man.” He pulled into the yard and backed up into a parking spot before turning off the ignition and sitting there. “If he goes legit, I’m staying with him. You won’t find many better bosses than Bucky Barnes, legit or not.”

“You’re right there,” agreed Scott. He looked towards the security door into the warehouse which had just opened to show Sam waiting for them. “Looks like someone wants to talk to us.”

“Everything go, okay?” asked Sam, as they approached the door into the warehouse.

“Yeah,” replied Clint. “We’re taking Luis and someone else with us tomorrow to move her furniture into storage. Boss said he’ll drop by Andrea’s house then.”

“Good, good,” said Sam, as they walked past several rows of shelving with assorted merchandise on them. “We’ve got a couple of shipments to make tomorrow, but we should have enough trucks and guys to handle it. He’s not coming back tonight, is he?”

“No, he was helping her unpack at his place,” said Clint.

“Good,” said Sam, again, then he stopped at a desk and picked up a box, handing it to Clint. “Your oldest needs one of these for school, right?”

The older man looked at the tablet computer box and smiled. “You remembered. Thanks.”

“No problem. Mrs. Parker has already deleted the serial number from the theft report so it should register properly when your son sets it up. If you two want to call it for the day you can. There’s nothing pressing here.”

Both men picked up their car keys and left. As Sam headed to the hallway that connected the warehouse to the office, he looked at his watch. Steve had called that Natasha woman to set something up for the pair of them tonight and he had an hour to get ready, if he could get out of here now. Without Bucky brooding behind his desk in his office, that was more likely to happen. He came out to the quiet space, noting Mrs. Parker was also gone. The lights were mostly off, leaving only his and Steve’s offices illuminated. Leaning against the door frame of Steve’s office, he watched for a moment as the man finished something on his computer.

“Everything go okay with the move?” he asked, glancing at the standing man.

“Yup, and he’s staying home to help her unpack,” said Sam. “You almost done?”

“Yeah, just gotta dot a couple of more i’s and cross a few t’s.” With a flourish, he saved the work he was doing and logged out, then turned his computer off, swivelling his chair towards Sam. “You ready to go?”

“Yup, just need to know where we’re going so that I can dress appropriately.”

“Barcelona Tapas Bar,” said Steve. “We’re meeting them there at 7:30. Dancing starts at 9, and then you’re on your own.”

“Nice, how did you manage to score reservations there?”

“Promised the manager a crate of Cartizze Prosecco,” said Steve. Sam made a face as it was a premium brand with a big price tag. “I called in some favours. It was delivered this afternoon, and he confirmed our reservations a few minutes later.”

“Rogers, you never cease to amaze me,” smiled Sam. “Shall I pick you up or are we meeting each other there?”

“Meet there.”

With a wave, Sam grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, leaving Steve to finish locking up. He took a good look at the premises, making sure no one was lurking anywhere, and all the doors were locked properly. Then he turned off his office lights, set the alarm system and stepped out, locking the front door. Tonight was going to be a great night.

🍕 🍕

At Bucky’s apartment, he had finally finished putting all the food away that was brought from Andrea’s house. He was about to check on her when she came out of the hallway of her bedroom.

“Well, I fed her and got her down,” she said, approaching the kitchen island. “Can’t believe she hardly slept for most of the day. Maybe I’ll be lucky, and she’ll sleep through the night. If she does, I’ll have to get up and express some milk. You’re okay if I put expressed milk in the freezer, right? It’s handy to have on hand.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he replied. “You okay if I order in some food? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel much like cooking.”

“Sure, is pizza alright? Ham and mushroom are my favourite toppings.”

“I like loaded but we can get a half and half,” said Bucky, pulling his phone out. Using the app, he placed the order. “It’ll be here in half an hour.”

They were quiet then both began to talk. Bucky gestured to her to go ahead.

“I don’t know much about you, but something you said stuck with me,” she began. “Why don’t you date?”

Bucky let out an audible breath, then walked over to the couch, gesturing to her to sit.

“I had a girlfriend, Dot, who I really loved. Wanted to marry her. Thought she was the one. You know, all that stuff that you’re supposed to feel when you decide you want to share your life with someone. You see my place here. It’s a nice place and the company made enough money for me to buy it, outright. She really liked this modern style of finishing. I brought her here, intending to propose right in front of these windows. She said no; said I wasn’t enough for her and this place wasn’t enough for her to live in. I guess she was expecting a different lifestyle; something grander, more expensive, flashier. You already know me enough to know that’s not me. I was never into the bar or nightclub scene. To me, the perfect life is a family and a quiet corner of the world to be with them. She took the elevator down and I haven’t seen her since. I’ve heard she’s hooked up with some mobster who gives her whatever she wants. So, I figured it was better not to date and be disappointed again.”

“That’s awfully lonely,” commented Andrea.

Bucky nodded his head in agreement. Then you walked into my life. “Maybe someday I’ll get up the courage to try again.”

When the pizza arrived, Bucky put a movie on, and they each curled up on a corner of the couch. It was a pleasant and quiet way to spend the evening. Andrea received a text message from Natasha, telling her about the double date she was on, and how much fun she was having. She didn’t name names, but she hinted that both men were known to Andrea. She was glad Natasha was having a good time, wondering who else went with her. None of her returned texts were answered so she decided to leave it until the next day before she phoned her best friend. The movie ended about 9:30 and both called it a night, having worked hard the entire day.

Part 4>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes au #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky in love #bucky fanfic #bucky

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alexanderwales · 3 months ago

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Just got done watching Juror #2. It was okay, but I'm a little baffled by the ending.

Spoilers follow.

So the premise of this movie is that a guy gets empaneled on a jury and quickly finds out that he's trying a case where, whoops, he might have accidentally done a hit-and-run and killed the victim. This is sort of an informational see-saw movie, where revelations are doled out that make our protagonist more or less sympathetic in this moral quandry.

In the end, our protagonist is very sure that the wrong man is going to jail, but his wife is about to give birth, and he doesn't want to go to jail, and the man who is getting put away is a dirtbag with a history. The prosecuting attorney knows or suspects that the defense was bungled, that the medical examiner screwed up, and that juror #2 was hiding his involvement in the case. She lets it go through, because this helps win her the election she was in the middle of.

But then at the end, she shows up at the door of juror #2, and we cut to credits.

So ... I think what I'm supposed to take from this by implication is that he's going to answer for the vehicular manslaughter charge. He has previous DUIs, previous accidents, etc. Narratively, I guess this is supposed to be satisfying because he took the devil's deal and let someone innocent go to prison for life. The prosecuting attorney, meanwhile, is blowing up her career.

But in terms of what happens next ... the story takes place a year after the accident. Where's the proof? Are they going to re-autopsy the body? Are they going to track down the truck he sold, which has been repaired? His story has always been that he hit a deer, because he thought he hit a deer. The one person he told his suspicions to was his lawyer.

My point is, unless he gives a full confession and takes a plea deal, then what jury is going to convict him? There's so much reasonable doubt.

And I can see where the movie is going thematically, it's about imperfect men who are being judged for their past, this is part of the karmic cycle that the ending represents.

But how does this ever actually result in any comeuppance to match the implication of the ending? It doesn't, right? Because part of the reason the original man was found guilty was that his lawyer was incompetent and/or an overworked public defender, but our protagonist has a lawyer friend, and can probably afford a lawyer. Plus this second trail would be coming hot on the heels of the first trial, and all the evidence presented there would be fair game.

So the movie ends as though it's trying to say "time to pay the piper" but it really feels like he's instead going to get ... I don't know, either a trial that finds him not guilty, or a contempt of court charge for not divulging his relationship to the case in the first trail.

I think the movie was overall pretty good, and did a fair amount with its subject matter, even if it felt like it was restating a lot of information about the justice system that I already know: cops are lazy, public defenders are overworked, the husband did it. But the ending sticks in my craw, because it feels like it can only insinuate a narrative circle that the actual events cannot hope to achieve.

#juror number 2 #movies

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nothingbutnowhere · 6 months ago

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Paid In Full (18+)

The Apartment Anthology

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Contains: 18+, Unethical and creepy maintenance man!Simon, I don't know how else to put this but he comes on your toys in your shower when he enters your apartment for maintenance, come eating, if I missed anything lmk

It could be worse. Really, the building you live in isn't that old or in disrepair, just out of date. There's only been one thing you've needed to call maintenance for.

Despite this, you see the maintenance guy around a bunch, or at least his truck full of various tools and parts parked outside the buildings. The man himself proves to be elusive and you've only seen him when he came into your apartment to fix the heat. Tall, stoic, and handsome. Polite with his face mask and shoe covers. His eyes glance around your apartment, seemingly bored with the way his eyelids droop. Neither of you attempt small talk while he works and you stand awkwardly across the room. He scribbles down some info about the repair on a carbon copy sheet and tears one off for you, nodding when you thank him. His eyes travel down your body, making your genuine smile fade as you silently wish for him to leave.

It's the time when you don't see him in your apartment that causes an issue.

You're a person who likes to play solo. Regardless of whether or not you're getting laid, there's fun to be had in reveling in your imagination while you masteurbate.

And what better place to play than in the shower? Warm, steamy air, nice and wet and sensitive...

So not one or two, but three toys sit in the corner of your shower, their own little city line of dildo skyscrapers, varying in lengths and thicknesses.

Therein lies the problem. You usually keep them there. And why not? No roommates, the only one in there is you!

Until you're not.

You return to your apartment one day to a pink slip sitting innocently on your bathroom counter. The scribble you can barely make out reads: Ceiling fixed- upstairs bathroom tub leak, with the date and an illegible signature.

Your face drains of blood as you look over and see the open shower curtain.

Without a doubt the maintenance guy saw your toys.

Well it's time to leave the country and change your name and start a new life.

But something catches your eye. You step over to the tub and take a closer look. Lines of white streak the toys, some sort of liquid running down them.

That's- no. There's no way. That can't be come.

Against better judgment you reach out tentatively, pointer finger sliding through the mess, which sticks to you when you pull back.

You look at the slip clenched in your other hand. At the bottom, something is written directly on it in pen:

6pm for payment

Ok first of all that's not how that works, and second of all: fuck. He has a key. And you've seen him before, he's huge and muscular enough he can definitely pull the chain right out of the wall if you used it to keep him out. You're screwed. You're going to have to leave the country, this time for another reason. You should march right down to the rental office and demand to be let out of the lease. You should be grabbing your emergency bag and going to stay with a friend. You should be filing for a fucking restraining order.

But you're frozen, breaths ragged and loud in the enclosed space and your heart pounds in your chest so hard it nearly rattles your ribcage. The- stuff- on your finger is a glossy, milky white. You definitely should not be touching it. But you have to admit that deep down the real come (and not your own) on the toys looks good.

You stick your finger in your mouth.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Part 2

More Simon

So This amazing fic jogged a memory of the maintenance guy seeing my toys in the shower- mortifying btw- so naturally I decided to extrapolate into a fic. Because I'm totally normal!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #my writing #x reader

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cutekittenlady · 10 months ago

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More BDKO Earthspark headcanons

Previous headcanon list is here.

This one is going to contain ideas and spoilers for my Summary Fic "Planes, Trains, and Autobots"

Due to spending the final days of the war helping Knock Out in the medical ward, Breakdown actually has a bit more advanced knowledge of first aid and diagnosis than your typical soldier. He wasn't working closely enough or long enough with Knock Out to be considered an out and out nurse, but he learned enough to keep his own body maintained and repaired to a higher standard than some of the other decepticons who were left on their own after the war. Basically, he might not know enough about medicine and surgery to fix you up, but he darn well knows enough to keep you alive until someone who does gets there.

Knock Out played a role in the Stunticons being dissolved. Sick of Motormasters frequent attempts to undermine his influence (both of them are some of the only vehicle modes in the decepticon high command and MM was pretty determined to be the "big truck" between them so to speak) Knock Out kept an extensive record of all the Decepticons who were injured and lost during Menasors rampages and presented them to Megatron as "proof" that Menasor damaged their own forces far more then he harmed the autobots. As powerful of an asset as Menasor was, Knock Out argued, Motormasters complete lack of control over the combined form and, notably, the ease with which it had been broken up by autobots in the past meant that it was a weapon that was far too easily turned back onto the Decepticons, and that they'd be better off combatting the Autobots combiners in different ways rather than waste their still scarce resources cleaning up Menasors "messes". In the midst of a losing streak, Megatron sided with Knock Out and the Stunticons were subsequently dissolved. All their members reassigned to other parts of the army with Knock Out taking Breakdown as a bodyguard and assistant as one final "Screw You" to Motormaster Motormaster has never forgiven him.

Knockout and Bumblebee only know each other via the war. As predicted this makes things between them very tense with Bumblebee only learning Breakdown and Knockout are even that close after the war has ended. This sadly makes Bumblebee predisposed to distrust the sincerity of Knockouts feelings for Breakdown at first which puts a strain on the twos friendship. The two never really develop the kind of over friendship that Breakdown and bumblebee have, but do learn to get along for Breakdowns sake if nothing else.

Knockout knows about Breakdowns history with Bumblebee because Breakdown shared it with him as part of their Conjunx Ritus.

Funnily enough (or not so funnily) a debate could be had as to whether or not Knockout and Breakdowns "Conjunxing" is fully official. Knockout insists he has never had a chance to complete "The Act of Devotion" that would make him and Breakdowns an officially bonded couple. Especially since Breakdown never specified what act of devotion he expected of him. Breakdown however thinks of this as a technicality. While he followed through on the ceremony for the sake of tradition, for him its enough that he asked knockout to be his conjunx and he said yes. Knockout seemingly agrees with Breakdown, but internally is still trying to find an "act of devotion" that he thinks actually encompasses just how strongly he feels about Breakdown. And this will surely cause no problems.

Jumping off the last headcanon, in human terms it was Breakdown who "proposed" to Knockout after knowing him for less than a year. This is an insanely short courtship period making their relationship something of a whirlwind romance. Knockout himself was surprised by the suddenness of it. However in Breakdowns rather direct mind it made sense. He knew how strongly he felt about Knock Out (after all intentionally or not he got him away from motormaster and helped him with his stress induced paranoia) and also knew that, as they were at war, either one of them could die at anytime. He'd rather propose to Knockout now and have his feelings known over dying without expressing his feelings or otherwise losing Knockout before he could tell him how he feels. Tho honestly this rather direct method likely suceeded in winning knockout over completely where other more subtle expressions of feeling would have failed since Knockout only hesitated because of Megatrons ban on his subject conjunxing and immediately said yes upon Breakdown saying he didnt care.

After the war Breakdown and Knockout were seperated/split up to avoid capture. Breakdown hasn't seen or heard from Knockout in that time. Officially meaning the two have spent more time apart they have together.

Since he was one of the Decepticons only doctors as well as their CMO (Chief Medical Officer) Knock Out was a high profile target for GHOST and spent most of his time post war dodging GHOST and trying to remain under the radar. This is why he split up with Breakdown as he feared being caught with him would make it more likely that he'd be targeted. Knowing Breakdown likely wouldn't willingly leave Knock Out if he knew he was in danger, Knock Out instead told Breakdown that he was having second thoughts about their relationship and thought they should seperate.

Yep. Thats right folks. Knock Out literally dumped Breakdown rather than risk letting him get captured along with him.

Breakdowns five minute experience with death at the end of season 1 is what drives him to try and seek Knock Out as hes realized he's still in love with him and wants to know why he broke off their relationship.

Knock Out did learn about Breakdown's capture and was actually trying to plan a way to break him out before the whole thing with Mandroid takes place and Knock Out, just like every other cybtertonian on Earth, went offline.

Additionally Knock Out learned a loose version of events regarding the circumstances of Breakdowns capture and that Bumblebee was involved. One can imagine how this colors his view of Bumblebee.

Breakdown doesnt tell Bumblebee hes looking for Knock Out because he wants a chance to find and speak to him privately about their relationship as well as the future in general without anyone else interfering. He makes an exception for Swindle and Hardtop only because he knows he may need additional hands to help find Knock Out and because Hardtop needing a new arm is a good cover story for the real reason he's looking for him. As Breakdown still fears what other decepticons might do if they realize the true nature of his and Knock Outs relationship. He also fears that, as an Autobot, Bumblebee might feel he needs to arrest/capture Knock Out just like he did the rest of the decepticons. While he was willing to get caught to help Bee escape, he won't tolerate even his best friend locking up or harming his (technically former) conjunx.

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warping-realities · 2 years ago

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A Better Family II

David Evans was having a bad day. The young professor, only twenty-three years old, hated the job at St James, which he had obtained only through the influence of his father, one of the institution's biggest donors. The truth was David also despises his absent father. A father who only cared about how his son's attitudes interfered with the illusory life he tried to maintain, without ever really worrying about the boy, using the money to buy, manipulate and open his son's paths. As a reflex David grew up with a bad attitude towards the world, which extended to his teachers at that same school. But karma was a bitch. David only graduated from college the same way he got that job: through his father's intervention. After that fiasco, the solution to the boy's inability was to work with the teachers that for years he despised as inferior beings. And that place quickly became a torment. Although it was still only on his second day at work, David found former professors willing to make him pay for his para attitudes and students ready to replicate them in him. To top it all off, David's brand new Mercedez just got screwed up which added to his frustration.

"Damn car, damn stupid job, damn life."

"Apparently someone got up on the wrong foot today." Said a bassy voice.

"Ramirez." It was David's only comment as the handsome male specimen approached, Enrique Ramirez the PE teacher, already in uniform for the day and exuding an air of self-assurance and masculinity that had irked David from the first moment. He was used to being the alpha male, but a single glance at his colleague made it clear that here in St. James the position was already taken.

"Car trouble, Evans?"

"That crap just let me down so I was late for work." David replied, taking advantage of the problem to justify his delay in arriving at the service, caused in reality by his total lack of will to be there.

Enrique smirked as if he knew the car wasn't really the reason for the delay, but as a sign of good faith he decided to offer his new colleague some help.

"My father-in-law owns a car repair shop and I worked with him myself during high school, I can take a look for you and try to identify the source of the problem."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Sorry, but I don't understood your comment, Evans." Enrique replied, understanding very well what the other man had inferred.

"Hum... I mean ... you can look... please?" Asked David grudgingly. But taking the opportunity. His father was already irritated with him, if he bothered the old man with that problem he might decide to cut off his funds.

"No problem, let me see what we have here." Said Enrique approaching and opening the hood of the car, only to be hit by a cloud of black smoke.

"What the fuck did you do with the car, Evans?" he asked between a coughing fit.

"I... I don't know. I've never cared much about cars, it's the underlings' job and..." David started to say, stopping abruptly when he saw his colleague's icy expression.

"I suggest then that you find an underling to fix this shit." Enrique replied, ready to withdraw from that company that increasingly displeased him.

"Wait, Ramirez! Hum, Enrique..."

"What?"

"Would you be able to get me your father-in-law's contact? I mean… if he doesn't charge too much."

“Mr Huerta is extremely competent at what he does and will charge you exactly what his service is worth and nothing more. I shouldn't do this given you attitude, but we are colleagues and will be obliged to interact. I'll get in touch with a tow truck team to pick you and your car and take to his workshop."

"Hum, thanks and...ahh...sorry if I was...hum...offensive." David concluded as if he don’t apologize often, which in fact he didn’t.

"No problem, I hope the next time we meet things are better." Said Enrique knowing that it was almost impossible to happen.

"Sure, man" replied David, thinking exactly the same as his colleague.

….

Meanwhile, at that exact moment in Diego's workshop, a beautiful middle-aged brunette wearing was received by the smiling owner.

"Good morning Marina!"

"Good morning Diego, are you coming from the gym?" She said looking at the impressive arms of her boss.

"Yes, I've just finished my morning training. I hope someone shows up for a job interview, we're short of staff, I can't handle the work alone for much longer."

"I'm sure someone will show up. I could ask Nico to help you but…" Said Marina, her smile fading.

"What is it? Is the boy in trouble?"

"Oh, I don't want to bother you with my problems, Diego."

"Marina, I've known that boy and his brother since they were babies. I'm sorry I couldn't help with Miguel, but whatever I can help with Nicolas, I'll help."

"Oh Diego, you are a great boss and a wonderful friend and I really don't know what I would do without you. But I'm afraid my boys have more of their father than I thought. Miguel hasn't been home for months and Nico... he's been with the same kind of company as his brother and... we had a terrible argument! Oh, I'm so afraid of losing them both, Diego." She concluded with teary eyes.

"Marina, as soon as possible I'm going to talk to the boys, both of them, and try to put some sense in their heads."

"Thank you, with all my heart, I…" she started to say, being interrupted by the phone ringing in the waiting room.

"Let me answer the phone, maybe this is good news, perhaps someone interested in the job offer." And she went to her post, discreetly wiping her eyes in the hope that her boss hadn't noticed her crying.

But Diego noticed, there was nothing he didn't notice about Marina. The two had a long history together. She had crossed the border with him so many years ago, but her trip had been longer, she was Brazilian and had gone to Mexico in an attempt to enter the United States. At the border, she met Diego and helped him take care of Melissa during the entire journey. At the time Diego realized that she was interested in him, but his heart was still in mourning for his late wife. When they were already established in the new country, and Diego, ready to try something new, decided to look for her, but instead found her married and pregnant with her eldest son, Miguel, to whom she asked Diego to be godfather. Marina's husband, Marcelo, also Brazilian, didn't like it very much, but Diego accepted the position. And he didn't budge from that.

Shortly after the birth of the boy Marina became pregnant again, but before the birth of her second son Nicolas, Marcelo was arrested for drug trafficking, dying in prison after a gang fight. Widowed and with two children to raise, Marina did what she could to support the household, working day and night, often leaving the boys in the care of Diego or by Enrique's grandparents, since the boy grew up without his parents, who died in Venezuela. Whenever possible Marina returned the favor by taking care of Melissa and the boy.

When Diego finally opened his workshop he hired her to do reception work and the boys were raised as if they were his children. And he knew they could have been, if he'd had the nerve to ask her out. But he didn't, creating several excuses not to do what he wanted most.

Time passed, the boys grew up... and something in them changed, maybe it was Marcelo's bad blood coming out. It started with Miguel, at the age of seventeen the playful boy gave way to an angry young man, the hours spent helping Diego in the workshop replaced by hours hanging around with bad company. Diego tried to intervene only to be rebuffed. And that hurt him a lot. Now it seemed the same was happening with Nico and he didn't know if he could do anything to avoid it, but he would certainly try his best.

"It was Rico on the phone, saying he sent a colleague's car for repairs, apparently the guy is a jerk. But he has money."

"We've dealt with our share of idiots, one more won't make a difference." Diego answered while examining the small metallic disc that he had found in the living room that morning.

"What is it, boss?"

"I have no idea, it just turned up at my house. Maybe Melissa or Rico left it there, I forgot I took it this morning. I’ll talk to them later, looks like our client arrived and he is exactly what Rico told you." He said, nodding at the blond man who was coming down from the tow truck, with an expression of complete disgust on his face.

“Let me take care of him.”

"Graças a Deus." She replied, returning to her work station.

"Hum, who do I have to talk to in this...hum...establishment...?

Diego mentally rolled his eyes as he reached out to the boy, who reluctantly reached out as well, the expression of disgust still present. With the intention of provoking the asshole, Diego put his other hand, the one that held the Reality Warper, on the man’s shoulder.

“ I'm Diego welcome to this… establishment… son."

And thus starting an unexpected reaction. With the contact with the target established and interpreting that phrase from the bearer as if it were an order, the artifact began its work.

Diego's impression was as if time had stopped and he couldn't move, so great was his surprise when he saw the small disc begin to expand and form the metallic structure around David, who tried to escape, but like so many others before him ended up trapped inside the metallic cocoon that would transform him forever. Recovering his voice Diego began to shout:

"Marina! Help…. Marinaaaa!" But she couldn't hear him, because in fact time had stopped for the bearer and for the target, everything that was happening there was out of time and reality itself, as the two dimensions were being altered.

"Boy, boy? Can you hear me? Damn, I don't even know your name... What the fuck is..." he interrupted himself when he saw one of the walls of the structure show the image of a thin young man, reformulating himself to then present the face of a young man with Latin features.

The scare with that was not greater than seeing the walls of the metallic cocoon retract in the small disc, leaving a man totally different from the one who was in his place. In front of him was a handsome young Latino man, tall and muscular, wearing the work uniform from Diego's workshop. Not knowing what to do or how to react, Diego just watched him with an astonished face, about to have the third surprise of the day. The boy opened his eyes, fixing his gaze in Diego's direction and smiled.

"Buenos días, papá!”

“I thought I'd start with Mrs. Angela's car. An old model like that will be hard to find the parts. By the way, I was up late yesterday working on my little project and I think I'm going to need some more experienced hands." Said the man, pointing to a blue 1967 Ford Mustang located where David’s brand new Mercedez used to be.

"Boy... I... what kind of joke is this...?"

"Father, you know I would never play with that, this project has been our dream since I was little. I repeat, I would never play with that, right Marina? Said the man, seeing Marina return from the reception holding two steaming cups of coffee.

"Ah, yes. Ever since you were a little kid you've been talking about restoring an old car with your bare hands. I don't think I've ever seen you without grease on your hands, Dieguito." She said, handing a cup to him who opened an even brighter smile. While she extended the other towards Diego who stared at the two stupefied.

"Dieguito...?"

"Si, Papa?"

"Marina, what's going on here, I... I..."

"Papá, is everything okay?" Asked the man putting his hand on Diego's shoulder who was suddenly invaded by conflicting memories. A cheerful boy, walking beside him, not realizing the risk of the crossing they were making, while Diego held a three-year-old Melissa in his lap, who was talking animatedly with a young Marina, the two laughing and trying to understand the differences between Spanish and Portuguese. The same boy, playing soccer on a makeshift field in their neighborhood and smiling at his father as he tried to dribble past his best friend, a young Enrique Ramirez just as smiling. Then the two boys already teenagers, dirty with grease in Diego's workshop. The two boys playing baseball in high school, the happiness on Diego Junior's face when he found out that his best friend had received a sports scholarship to college, even though he himself hadn't won one. The two wearing gala clothes for the prom, with the boy all happy to discover that his best friend was dating his sister. Then the boy with tears on his face while apologizing to him for not being able to go to college and smiling when Diego told him that he didn't care, that he was proud of him and that he would be the happiest father in the world to have his son by his side at work. The same happiness that shone in the boy's eyes when he received the car he had dreamed of restoring his whole life as a gift from his father, expressed through the phrase "Te amo, papá!" And at that moment Diego fell to the floor of his workshop, with tears in his eyes, scaring those around him.

"Papá, papá! Marina ayúdame aquí!”

“Nossa senhora! Diego, o que houve?”

“No es nada, estoy bien.” Said, Diego getting up and staring into the boy's eyes full of concern, his boy, his son!

"It must have been my blood pressure, there's nothing to worry about. Ah, thank you Marina." He concluded, taking the cup of coffee from the woman's still outstretched hand."

"Papa, I bet you didn't have a proper post-workout meal, let me get something from the market. Marina, keep an eye on him until I get back."

"I'll do it, Dieguito! And you, Mr. Huerta, you can go sit down, and no efforts until your son returns!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"You should be happy, you have a wonderful son, Diego." She said with her sad smile."

"You're right, Marina, I have the best son in the world." Diego replied looking at his boy as he left the workshop.

….

The rest of the day passed in a way that felt both familiar and completely new to Diego. He had all those memories of his son, but at the same time he knew that until that morning the boy didn't exist. That in his place there had been another man, whose name he didn't even know and whose existence had been erased from the face of the Earth. Marina didn't remember anything and even Enrique told him that he didn't have a colleague who fit the description and that nobody in St. James had car trouble that morning. Apparently Diego Jr was here to stay.

Diego wouldn't complain about that, because Dieguito was everything he ever wanted in a son, the boy was strong, funny, smart, hardworking and looked at his father with eyes of total respect and admiration. Diego knew that when the time came, the boy would be ready to take his post at the head of the workshop.

Still, there was the possibility that it would all disappear just as abruptly as it had started. So he spent the whole afternoon locked in his office researching any information there was about the artifact. Aside from a few legends and myths about magical objects, he didn't find anything relevant. Although his research led him to sites with stories aimed at just that kind of situation, and although they were clearly fiction, some were eerily reminiscent of the situation he found himself in. With nothing else to do, Diego dismissed Marina and his son and closed the workshop alone, still thinking about the strangeness of the situation.

When he got home he found Dieguito putting on his gym clothes in the living room and he couldn't stop admiring him, the boy was everything he had wanted all his life and he knew that was how it was because he himself had created him, but there were those other memories where the boy didn't exist, memories that scared him immensely.

His thoughts were interrupted by his son.

"Papá, I didn't see you arrive.... why are you staring at me? Is there something wrong? I noticed you've been acting strange all day..."

"There's nothing wrong hijo, it’s just… just that today I realized how perfect you are!"

"Papá, por favor! I didn't even go to college like Rico, all I do is follow in your footsteps."

"And what more could I want? I repeat, you are perfect, Dieguito. I love Rico like a son, but you are my only son and I couldn't wish for a better one!" Diego replied causing a shy smile to appear on his son’s face.

"Thanks father, hearing you say it means a lot to me!" The man replied obviously happy but at the same time a little embarrassed by that statement. So much so that he quickly changed the subject.

"Papá, something happened today. I didn't mention anything to Marina, but I ran into Miguel today at the market. He didn't seem too well. We talked for a few minutes and... I don't know, something didn't feel right."

"Marina is worried about the boys Diego, Miguel has been out of the house frequently since last year, he hasn't appeared for months and now it seems that Nicolas is replicating the behavior.... tell me, can you get in touch with him ?" Finished Diego, with an idea sprouting in his head.

"Sure, do you intend to talk to him again?"

"I intend much more than that son. Get in touch with the boy and ask him to meet you at the gym." Diego said unbuttoning his uniform shirt and heading to his bedroom to put on gym clothes.

"I can try, but it's not guaranteed, papá. Do you intend to train twice today? Remember what happened in the morning."

"Kid, don't worry about me, worry about embarrassing yourself by lifting less weight than your father."

"In your dreams, old man!"

....

“Are you ready to see how a professional works Dieguito?"

"See those arms, Rico? They are the arms of a true professional, forged with the work of a real man."

With a radiant smile Diego watched his son and his future son-in-law exchange bravado at the gym, as the two best friends had been doing since childhood.

However, he felt that smile fade as he looked out the window and watched a boy approaching. Knowing he was about to do something very extraordinary or very stupid. But that either way could alter that boy's fate permanently.

#male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #race change #cultural change #my story

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clearmytrack · 13 days ago

Text

i think i drew and colored and drew and colored for. a while. i worked from like 8 pm to 1-2 am and then midday until 11 pm because i had a ✨vision✨

so. meet screws :3

screws is a repair truck! her design is modeled after an industrial brownhoist wrecking derrick or wrecking crane. so basically she’s similar to wrench except. not.

she doesn’t belong with any one engine the way wrench belongs with electra. instead she hangs around on race nights and goes to whichever engine is in the worst shape. the worse the damage the better. screws is a little unhinged and enjoys seeing (and fixing) the damage the engines take during the races.

she also has a talent for taking broken engines and giving them new life! she’ll report to crash scenes to give aid, and by that i mean she also collects spare parts and broken beat up engines to play around with. like frankenstein and his monster, screws likes to play god.

one relationship that i’ve got cemented for her is with cb. they’re pals. she likes to follow him around because gee, he always seems to be around when there’s a crash! and a crash means more materials to work with.

at some point i think she’ll build herself an engine to fawn over, because she’s jealous of what wrench has with electra.

her design turned out much more mechanic-esque than medic-esque which was what i was going for but oh well. im pretty happy with her :] her makeup was definitely component inspired, mostly wrench but the cheek part definitely came out very krupp-like.

the pose was referenced from a ref image by @mellon-soup! ignore the right hand please i dont know how to draw hands lol

this is a close-up picture of the reference image in the upper lefthand corner of the ref i made of screws! it’s the one i color picked everything from.

#starlight express #starlight express oc #stex oc

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theunholyrogue · 2 years ago

Text

a bad day (bayv! Donnie x GN reader) part 1

don angst just doesn’t exist unless it’s completely revolving around april… so here’s one that isn’t just about april! i know don isn’t a big part in this but he will be in part 2

tw: angst, 18+ nsfw, cursing, fighting (physically and verbally), alcohol and cigarette mentions, brief forced intimacy + sa mentions, abuse (ties in with the fighting)

read part two here

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” you muttered, staring down at your plastered guardian, lying comfortably in their recliner with old reruns playing softly on the television beside you.

“Guess you are TOO hammered to come to my match tonight,” you continued to mumble quietly to yourself, dropping your duffle bag to the ground and grabbing the remote from the coffee table, clicking the TV off. “No, it’s FINE. It’s not like I want you a part of my life or nothin’.”

Your eyes glared daggers at them, resentment having been building up for years. You wished that they would act like the guardian they claim to be, to have some parental role in your life, but you weren’t destined to have that, were you?

After cleaning up some of the stray beer cans and cigarette butts, you grabbed your duffle bag and walked back to the front door to your run-down apartment. You thought about announcing your whereabouts, but that would only be a waste of breath.

It wasn’t a hard decision on where you would end up, having already decided on hearing down to the lair to see your boyfriend and his brothers. You had a lot on your mind and figured that Donatello might be able to distract you with some science experiment or new tech thing he may be working on.

It was still afternoon, so you figured that the guys wouldn’t be on patrol just yet, and had your suspicions confirmed whenever you entered the lair after a 15 minute walk and saw Leonardo and Raphael sparring.

The two brothers hadn’t noticed you, or if they did they were too in tune with their match to speak, so you left them alone to finish their spar and would say your ‘hello’s’ later in the evening. You couldn’t pinpoint Michaelangelo, and honestly couldn’t think about the possibility of his whereabouts at any given time other than with pizza or comic books. That left one terrapin, who was sitting in front of the Shell-Raiser, presumably doing repairs to the outer shell.

“Hey,” you stated, setting your bag down and walking up next to the turtle.

“Hey, love,” Donatello replied, giving you a brief look before returning to the garbage truck. “What are you up to?” He asked, marking points on the shell for future screws.

“Um, just coming over here before my match tonight,” You replied, taking a seat next to the turtle and grabbing the tools that laid in your now seating spot. “Are you going to be there?”

“I’m not sure,” Donatello replied, taking a step back to turn his attention to you. “It’s just that I have this to finish up and-,”

You cut the terrapin off, “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ll have-,” you stated before being cut off by the sound of Donnie’s T-Phone going off. You furrowed your eyebrows as he answered, watching him talk to -who you could come to the conclusion of being- April.

“Oh, yeah, I’m on my way,” He said as he hung up, standing from his spot. You followed suit, your extremities starting to feel the sense of a familiar, anxiety-related jitteriness that you often experienced.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Vern’s camera is doing some weird, glitchy thing from what April said, she needs me to fix it so that she can do her report,” Donatello responded, gathering his supplies.

You felt your heart drop.

“Yeah, they also work for Channel 6 News, who can get them a new camera,” you retorted, but he didn’t stop in his tracks. “Did they even try calling their boss?”

“No, I guess not, but I need to go.”

You reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, finally getting the turtle to stop and look at you.

“What’s wrong?” Donatello asked, a sigh escaping his lips afterwards.

You widened your eyes, “You can’t be serious,” you stated, but the terrapin looked impatient. “You just told me that you couldn’t come to my match tonight because you had things to do but the moment April calls, you suddenly have the time to run to her aid?”

“This is for her job,” Donatello stated, your name flowing off his tongue afterwards like unsatisfying candy.

“A job that can provide her and her cameraman with another camera. Is that seriously more important than watching your own partner’s last match of the season?”

“You just said there would more-,”

“Yeah- practice matches! That’s not even the issue here,” You asked, your grip tightening on his wrist.

Donatello pulled his arm away from your grip, “April is already walking on a thin rope, she can’t lose her job again. I’m sorry, I really need to help a friend out,” He spoke softly before leaving the lair.

You stood there in his lab for what felt like hours, stunned at how the turtle just left you. A tear slipped down your face before you quickly wiped it away, walking back over to your bag, grabbing it, and swiftly exiting the lair without saying goodbye.

——

April had brought the camera to the rooftop to protect the terrapin’s identity. Blissfully unaware of the precious events that had occurred between you and the turtle, she asked about the two of you and how you were doing.

“Well,” Don started to explain as he pulled the camera apart, pulling away to click his headlamp as the sun began to set behind the two. “They are probably mad at me now.”

“Why?” April asked, leaning against the side of the ledge with her arms crossed, awaiting his explanation. The turtle told the female what had gone down between the two of you, and April furrowed her eyebrows.

“Donatello! No sir! You can’t treat your partner like that! They should always come first to you and vice versa. Vern could have easily called and got another camera.”

Donatello gulped, remembering the exact same words that you had already said about the situation. He really treated you like shit.

“You need to apologize and make it up to them immediately, that is unacceptable,” April scolded, walking over and taking the camera pieces back from the turtle. “Don’t lose the good thing you have because you think other things are more important. Nothing should be more important than them. Now go, buh bye!” She stated before waving him off.

——

You were early arriving at the boxing gym. You thought for a moment that you were the only person there until a familiar face turned the corner from the locker rooms. You started to head for the other set of locker rooms before the person caught your full attention.

“You good?” Eric asked, stopping to look at you. You paused, gazing at him and nodding in response, barely catching what he had asked.

“Yea-Yeah, I’m good. Ready for tonight?” You asked, him nodding in response.

“Yeah. Too bad we don’t get to fight each other anymore this season. You’re one of the best,” Eric winked.

You smiled. “Thanks, I practice hard for it.”

You felt the air become tense and awkward between the two of you. When had he gotten so close? You were about to step away from the male and excuse yourself to the locker room before he glared at you, aggressively pressing you against the concrete wall and pressing his lips to yours.

You felt your fight or fight kick in, immediately pushing the male away from you. “Back off! There’s not a chance in hell that you would have a shot!” You exclaimed, shocked.

Eric furrowed his eyebrows before lunging at you, “Then I guess I’ll just make you,” he muttered.

You thrusted against him, maneuvering yourself so that you could knee yourself to freedom. Eric feel the floor, wincing and groaning in pain as you quickly moved away and into the locker room, locking the door behind you until it was closer to match time.

You were shaking as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins, sliding down the back of the door and tucking your head between your legs in order to calm yourself down. You couldn’t believe what just happened, or what had almost happened, what would have happened had you not been strong enough to get away on your own.

And unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had witnessed the entire event through a glass window engraved into the roof of the building, and he was sick.

——

You stood there, looking out at the crowd as sweat beads trickled down your forehead before dripping off of your eyelashes. Your arm being held up by the referee as your name is announced to the audience as the winner for the 10th time this season. You had won every single match and had had a happy coach to show for it.

But something about the current situation made your stomach turn, you hadn’t felt this way at any of your previous matches. Andy before you could put your finger on what it was, you felt your hands being dropped and the silhouette of a male sliding in underneath the ropes of the ring. You didn’t have enough time to react before his fist collided with your nose, sending you backwards and onto the mat.

You could hear the uproar around you from the crowd, some believing that this was a skit like WWE, some concerned for your wellbeing, and other comments, but you had to focus on the male that was walking towards you and Ray to finish you off.

You were too focused on protecting yourself to catch his identity at the moment, as he went to take another swing, you raised your left arm to cover your face and used your right arm to attack. You overcorrected, sending the back of the bent wrist into the cheekbone of whoever stood above you. With your force, you caused them to stumble backwards, giving you time to stand up and defend yourself, correcting yourself with your next move, an uppercut, that sent your attacker to the floor. You backed away like you finally heard your coach yelling at you to do, and noticed that Eric was the one who attacked you.

You thought about continuing the fight, but stepped out of the rink before you could act on your instincts. You immediately started to walk to the locker room, glancing into the mirror to notice your nose was bleeding.

“Mother fucker,” you muttered, changing into your old clothes and having a handful of tissues, wiping your nose and sneaking out of the back door to the building to head home. You needed to get home before something else happened to you.

——

Once you got home, you tried to head for you room immediately, until you heard your name being called from the living room. You held the napkin to your nose and peeked into the room to your guardian half awake and drunkenly looking for you.

“What?”

“Go grab me a beer.”

“Get it yourself,” You mumbled.

“What?” They asked, raising their voice.

You dropped your bag before looking at them. “Go get it yourself, you lazy piece of shit!”

“The fuck you just say,” they exclaimed, standing up and walking over to you and standing over you.

“I didn’t stutter,” You mouthed.

You felt a sudden sting on your cheek. “You got real nerve actin’ Like that! I work hard to keep us here!”

“Oh yeah, you’re late on rent, maybe chill on the alcohol addiction and try keeping a suitable living place for your kid,” you stated.

“You mind your own got damn business, you little shit!”

“Then act like I’m your business! You have a problem,” You stated before turning and going to your room.

At least, before you heard the sound of a grunt and glass breaking, and a hard knock to the back of your head before everything went black.

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donnie 2016 #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt leo 2014 #tmnt leo 2016 #tmnt mikey 2014 #tmnt mikey 2016 #tmnt raph 2014 #tmnt x reader #tmnt raph 2016 #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie 2014 #tmnt donatello x reader #donnie angst #tmnt angst #my heart #ouches #bayverse turtles

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youwouldntlietopapa · 1 year ago

Note

kissing prompt thingy: 44+50 for copia please, thank you very much✨

It's done! At... 1:45am. I'm going to eat dinner now and leave this here.

Enjoy!

Includes: Idiots, fluff, back seat make-outs, wee bit of sexy action but no real smut, did I mention idiots?

also available on AO3

____________________________________________________________

“No, no, that’s all right… No, I completely und-… sure. Right… Yes, we’ll be here. There isn’t really anywhere to go… Sure. Thank you… Thanks. Bye.”

Fuck. The tow truck would be at least an hour, if not more. And an added fee for being so far out. Plus whatever the repairs would be. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But you could say, with certainty, that Sister Imperator would be demanding an explanation in the morning regardless. Wonderful.

Copia is still standing at the front of the car, with its hood open, steaming and hissing angrily. The car, not Copia. He is just making the odd noise and poking at a few things tentatively, trying to look knowledgeable. The section of highway isn’t even lit and the moonlight isn’t really cutting it. You walk over to join him, looking at the mechanical workings with all the confidence of a caveman with a cell phone.

“I think I spot the problem.”

“Really?” You look at him with a little more astonishment than was probably complimentary.

“Si,” he nods sagely. “The problem is I don’t know shit about how cars work.”

You snort. No matter how bad the day, no matter how screwed the situation might be, he never fails to make you laugh. “Perfect. I’ll call the tow company back and tell them we figured it out.”

“How long?” He nudges you gently.

“An hour. Minimum.” You tip your head sideways, resting it on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Copia only waves the apology away, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Not your fault. You didn’t make the car car break down. It happens sometimes.”

“I still didn’t mean to get us stuck out in the middle of no where, in the dark, waiting for a tow.”

He only chuckles. “I can think of worse places and worse people to be stuck with.”

“Oh, well, I will take solace in not being the worst.” You tease right back.

Carefully, you pull away, walking back around to the driver’s side. The door is still hanging open and to drop into the old leather seat. If you have to wait, might as well enjoy the rare opportunity for star gazing and quiet. The car groans in protest as it usually does when you press the release for the roof.

“Sorella, I don’t know shit about cars, but I think I can say that button doesn’t fix the engine.”

“No?” You laugh. “Well, damn. And here I thought I had the answer.”

The roof needs help folding back and out of the way. It’s only a little bit of a struggle before Copia comes to his senses and rushes over to help. Between the two of you, it goes much smoother.

“eh…. Can I ask why we do this?”

You climb into the big back seat and pat the spot beside you. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

He raises a brow, but doesn’t argue, climbing in next to you. Watching curiously as you slump down in your seat a bit, tipping your head back, and staring up at the sky. Copia waits a moment before following suit, smiling when he sees the view provided without the city’s light pollution.

“È bellissimo…” His voice is soft, as if he’s afraid to disturb anything. “I don’t remember the last time I was free to… just sit and enjoy the stars. Too busy. Too much work. Grazie, cara mia.”

For a while, you’re content to sit quietly. Pointing out the few constellations you know. Listening to the distant sounds of the local wild life. But the chill of the evening creeps up before too long and you catch yourself shivering. Copia tries his best to look like he’s not looking, though it would be hard to miss it, sitting so close.

“Do you want my jacket, Sorella? You look cold.” He cracks and asks.

“Oh, no. No, no. Thank you, Papa. I wouldn’t feel right letting you catch a chill.” Papa. You’ve known him long enough and well enough that the formal title only comes out during office hours and when you’re worried about overstepping. Regardless of how familiar you might be, he’s still… him and you’re still… just another Sibling.

Copia rolls his eyes and huffs, softly. “Ah… I see.”

“See what?” You shift a little to look at him.

“We are back to Papa.”

Apparently the switch hasn’t gone unnoticed. Or the reasons why. At least, whatever reasons he assumes. “Did you leave your position and not tell me? I’m sure I would have heard about it.”

He gives you a bit of a look. One that doesn’t particularly feel good about the poorly timed attempt at humour. “Don’t play stupid, Sorella. It doesn’t suit you. You forget I know how clever you are.”

��No. I assure you, I’m an idiot.” You sigh and nudge him softly. The silent gesture that’s come to mean something more, something you can’t fully articulate. When things are shit but at least you can know someone has your back. “I’m sorry… Copia. Thank you for the offer, but I really don’t want you to be cold because I didn’t think to bring a coat. I’ll be all right.”

“I don’t really want to be cold either.” He admits, finally relaxing again and offering a small smile. “But, maybe a compromise?”

Copia shifts closer, urging you to lean forward. You have no idea what he’s up to, but you’re also not really eager to be rude twice, so you comply. When he tugs you back against the seat, he holds his hoodie open, tucking you against his side and wrapping the jacket and his arm around you. It is, you’re forced to admit, delightfully warm. Pressed up against him, with his arm holding tight. The lingering smell of his cologne and… You clear your throat, staring hard at the stars overhead.

His other hand rests on his thigh, not that you were looking or anything. It just happens to be where it was. Quite close to your own hand, which is irrelevant, really. Just two hands, relatively close together, while you platonically cuddle and look at the stars. Nothing more. Obviously. And the way his finger softly nudges yours? Why would there be anything strange about that? No stranger, certainly, than hooking your pinkie together with his finger would be. For instance.

And if, say, that single pair of fingers, hooked together were to become a single pair of hands holding each other, that too wouldn’t be so strange. Would it? Or thinking a little too hard about how soft the leather of his glove is? Or how warm his hands are? What normal person wouldn’t think about things like that in a situation like this? None you’d want to meet, that’s for sure. Those are the real weirdos.

Copia opens his mouth, seeming very much like he has something to say, right before shutting it again. A process he repeats about half a dozen times while you pretend to be focused on the cosmos and he looks a bit like a guppy. Which is very cute. In a very platonic way. Because that’s what this is. Just… good friends. Holding hands. Cuddling. Staring at the stars. Not being weird about it. And definitely not commenting on the strained, awkward noise he makes before trying to hide it with a cough. Just rub your thumb, platonically and soothingly, over his knuckles. Like a very good friend.

“… Copia?” You hear your own voice say, which is very odd because you’re sure you meant to just sit quietly.

“eh... uh… Yes, Sorella?” He freezes in place.

Shit. I’m an idiot. Why did I say that? And why was it a question? Like I had more to say??? Your head screams as your mouth betrays you again. “… are you going to kiss me?”

“Do-do-do you w-want me to?”

Do I? I mean, I’ve thought about it a… normal amount. I’m NOT saying that out loud. Satan’s tits, don’t be absurd. While you got lost in a downward spiral of wondering if Satan’s tits was an insult to Him, your mouth carried on without you.

“… only if you want to.”

For a very long, very quiet moment, you both stare into space. Literally for once. Even your own head has gone oddly quiet while you’re grateful that his leather glove is hiding how sweaty your palm has gotten.

“… now?” He blurts, immediately making a face of deep regret that you can feel in your soul.

“Sure… or later… whenever… or not at all. I just thought… and then… because we’re… and the stars…” You come to the conclusion that Satan’s tits is, in fact, insulting to Him because your mouth is apparently possessed by a demon who both can’t shut up and can’t form a complete sentence. A problem you’re only just coming to terms with when Copia’s hand slips from yours to cup your cheek and kiss you. One single, soft kiss and you sit there staring at him like he’s the first person you’ve ever seen and attempting to copy his guppy impression. “…….. now is good too.”

There’s more than a touch of panic on his face which is, if you’re being honest, not the ideal expression from someone who just kissed you. “Mi spiace! I should… I should have warned you first or-or say more or something. I didn’t mean t-”

Oh, to hell with it. You wipe your palms quickly on your pants and cup his cheeks, kissing him again. Aiming for confident, it starts much softer than planned. Still half convinced that he was just being nice. But he doesn’t pull away. He leans into the touch and into the kiss, shifting toward you to make the angle less troublesome. His arm wrapped around you pulls you closer and his hand moves to your hip, sliding down to grip your thigh.

Copia breaks the kiss first and you almost make it to disappointment before his mouth presses to your jaw, trailing along it to just below your ear and down your neck. To the spot where your neck meets your shoulder and his mouth hits just right. Dragging a moan from the very core of your being. He pulls back and blinks at you in stunned silence for what feels like an eternity. Though it was, you’re desperate to believe, more likely less than a second.

“… Devo ricordare quel posto.” He says, just louder than a whisper.

Snapping out of his reverie, he claims your mouth again. When he leans into you, you don’t push back. You don’t want to push back. Instead, letting him guide you back down onto the cool leather of the wide bench seat. Your hands tangling in his hair, moaning into his kiss while your legs hug his sides. This is, you suppose, probably not platonic.

Copia’s hips rock against yours, moaning as shamelessly as you. By your estimation there are entirely too many layers of fabric between you, and it’s still not possible to miss how hard he is, pressed up against you. You legs hook over his hips, pulling him closer, desperate for more. So focused on the beautiful sounds that drip from his lips and feel of him so close, the rest of the world falls away.

Including the sound of crunching gravel and the squeak of an old truck door. The flashlight, on the other hand, certainly gets your attention.

Copia’s head pops up and you both squint and try to shield yourselves from the blinding brightness. Barely making out the figure of a lump of a man staring down at you.

“Hate to break up the party, kids. But if you want this antique towed, it’s now or never. I got other jobs waiting.”

“Right… uh… hi… we-we-we just need a second. Don’t leave! We need to tow. Just… one second.” You are positive you’re as red as Copia’s hoodie but, at least, the tow truck driver wanders off without a word to prep his truck.

Copia flops back down on top of you, burying his face in your shoulder, and groaning deeply. Less for pleasure and more the sound one might make when dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn after a long night out. “Are you sure we can’t just stay here tonight?” His voice is muffled by your shirt.

“Might be a little cold.” You offer as a very weak defense.

“I will keep you warm.”

You can’t help laughing, kissing his temple softly. “Sister is already going to kill me for the car. If I let Papa catch his death out here, I might as well throw myself on the mercy of the Church and hope she’ll burst into flames if she comes looking for me there.”

He snorts and sits back to look at you. “How can I condemn you to such a terrible fate, eh?” Still stealing one more kiss, leaning in close and lowering his voice. “But we are not finished. No. Only pause until we are home, si?”

“Perhaps I will make you see stars there too…”

___________________________________________________________

Devo ricordare quel posto = I need to remember that spot for later.

#ask prompts #papa iv x reader #ghost fanfic #MDNI

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shiorimakibawrites · 1 year ago

Text

Idea: Port in a Storm (The Punisher)

These are rough notes and therefore subject to change.

Feedback and suggestions are welcome.

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

You live in the mountains of Colorado with SON and DAUGHTER in the house that you and your deceased HUSBAND build.

HUSBAND died before the Snap, while you were pregnant with DAUGHTER.

The SNAP didn’t spare your family: YOUNGER SISTER was dusted along with LAWYER, the husband of your OLDER SISTER.

YOUNGER SISTER was pregnant when it happened – after YOUNGER SISTER and your brother-in-law MECHANIC have trying for years to have another child and suffered miscarriages or stillbirths in their attempts – which makes her loss 7 months in a pregnancy that had seemed to be going well particularly devastating to MECHANIC.

You often worry about MECHANIC, hoping he doesn’t do drastic from his pain and leave your NIECE without her father as well as her mother.

One day, during a very nasty thunderstorm – one bad enough to knock out your power – there comes a knock on your door. The arrival is Frank Castle, using an alias, asking to use your phone as his truck has broken down. Unfortunately your phone is dead

You are leery of letting a stranger in your house but it is too dangerous for the man to spend the night in his broken truck. Tornadoes had been reported nearby. He could die if another one touched down here. So you let him stay until morning.

Technically you had a rifle and you knew how to shot. But you had never shot another person, just animals. And animals only to protect your pets or the animals on your father’s ranch.

Joke that your house is a small zoo with a couple of dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, and fish. Your kids are very fond of animals and sometimes people dump unwanted pets – mostly dogs – out here.

Maybe HUSBAND was a veterinarian.

Despite seemingly gruff demeanor and scruff appearance, Frank is very sweet and gentle with DAUGHTER, who is terrified of the storm. SON is also scared but is trying to pretend otherwise since he’s ‘the man of the house, gotta to protect Mama and SISTER since Daddy is in heaven.’

You call BROTHER-IN-LAW in the morning, who is a mechanic. He agrees to bring his tow truck up the mountain to take a look at and possibly haul the truck down to town for repairs. BROTHER-IN-LAW can fix it but it will take a couple of days.

The only hotel in town was damaged by the storm so Frank has limited places to stay for those few days. Since he had already spent one night at your place, you agreed to let him stay at your place.

Before you head back up the mountain with your guest, the first murder is discovered.

Murder is part of a conspiracy. You were a lawyer and someone with a grudge from your legal work is looking for revenge:

(1) family law where you represented a battered wife during a very ugly divorce, crazy ex-husband holds you responsible for the lost of his wife and children, your client has been in the wind since the divorce was granted

(2) you were a prosecutor who put several gang members in prison. They took advantage of the Snap to escape from prison and have so far evaded capture. Due to a screw up, you haven’t been warned of the threat

(3) some combination where the crazy ex was in a gang and the family law attorney is one of the early victims.

Frank is soon in Protective Mode, especially when it becomes obvious that bad guys are willing to kill children and are threatening DAUGHTER and SON. Possibly also the others in your family, especially the vulnerable children – NIECE as well as OLDER SISTER’S two boys.

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callumsluvr · 6 months ago

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What kind of vehicles do they all drive

rafe -

his truck is all kinds of customized, he’s got huge tires, and his seats are black and his window is probably (illegally) tinted

momma -

her car has nice, brown leather seats with all the customization you could get, rafe bought it for her as a gift, but put it in her name so that she can do what she wants with it🩷

vivi -

all the girls get reliable (and expensive) cars that they pick out on their own. if they do something to screw the car up, they have to help pay for repairs, and if it’s not repairable, they have to prove that they can have another car

lottie -

all the girls pick out their own cars at 16, even if rafe and momma surprise them with it. and if they took really good care of that one, they get to get a new one when they turn 18. after that, it’s the girls responsibility to take care of their cars, even though rafe would drive to their college just to change the oil

summer -

while this one seems less luxurious as the others, it is a 1967 classic ford and with all of the fixing up that rafe had to do to get this car (that he bought from facebook marketplace) it basically cost the same amount. also summer picked it because it’s easy to take to the beach

#rafe cameron #dad!rafe au #anon <3

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blu3cl0v3rs · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: The Ninja broke another vehicle. Pixal, Nya, and Morro are not amused.

Warnings: Jay briefly catches on fire, angry Serpent Mech trio

Prompt: Day 22 - Run | Fire | "So did anyone read the instructions?"

Extra: Set between Seasons 13 and 14, generic "Revived Morro Lives w/ the Ninja" AU, but Morro knows more mechanic-y stuff. Considering it was his idea to steal Samurai X's mech, it wouldn't be too out of character. By the way, I'm a filthy American who uses the Imperial system. I'm sorry. Also, Morro is not a part of the boys, as they are the crew of dumbasses (and their slightly smarter companion, Zane) and Morro is just a bit too smart for them. I'm also definitely pushing my non-binary Morro agenda here, but you are not allowed to blame me.

The Ninja weren't even 5 miles away from the Mountains of Impossible Height before a loud BOOM! was heard from their vehicle, even audible all the way up in the monastery.

It was just the boys in said vehicle, as Morro, Nya, and Pixal were working on some mechs Kai and Jay had broken three days ago.

Wu stuck his head into the workshop, where three exasperated groans emitted.

"I am assuming that the explosion was the Ninja?" Wu asked.

Nya growled, "Oh I wish it was, but noooo, it was the vehicle Pix and I spent last night fine tuning after Morro put it together last week."

"If I find out it's beyond repair, I'm hiding my skeleton in their room for a month," Morro aggressively twisted his wrench until the bolt was tightened. "Try it again, Pix!"

The nindroid hit the ignition, and the engine roared to life, causing the oil-smudged trio to cheer.

Then, of course, the Ninja ran in.

Morro threw some clean rags at their female counterparts, and they all cleaned any mechanical leakage off them before the three ripped the Ninja a new one.

"The truck!"

"It caught on fire!"

"Luckily, Zane put it out-"

"Why did it-"

Nya splashed their soot-covered faces with water, harshly cleaning off the debri before Morro dried them using the wind without remorse. By the end, the boys' hair stuck out at odd angles and was super frizzy. Kai freaked out over his "ruined hair".

"So," Nya silenced them all with a pointy glare, "did anyone read the instructions?"

The guilty glances, deafening silence, and the general "oh shit, we're screwed" look on their faces answered the question easily.

"Let me guess: you activated the boosters to make you drive faster, which overheated the engine and it caught fire. Then, the gas tank exploded, because you didn't notice the engine was on fire." Morro's eyes pierced into their souls, carefully picking them apart.

Zane nodded.

" 'Join the Ninja', he said," Morro grumbled, " 'it'll be fine', he said, 'they are smart, they wouldn't blow up an engine if you wrote it down in the instruction manual', he said."

The black and green haired person stomped over to the blue mech that Nya had fixed the circuitry on, and used a gust to place a piece of plating where it needs to go, then screwed and welded it on. The Ninja grimaced, and Pixal dragged them back to the vehicle to bring it back to the shop.

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alittlextrathatway · 1 year ago

Note

Line: "And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you." Location: supermarket

High School AU time again.

You can find parts 1 & 2: here and here

***

Matt had a very different plan for Homecoming.

Nice suit, fancy dinner, dancing, Severide's after party...

But then he pulled a bonehead move and forgot to pick up his dad's old suit from the cleaners where his sister had helped him arrange and pay for alterations. If it were up to him, he wouldn't touch anything that used to be his dad's. As much as losing him threw Matt's life into upheaval and deprived him of any hope of repairing their relationship someday, he knows he's better off without him. However, he can't afford a new suit so his only option, apart from just not going, is to repurpose something of his dad's. Or at least it was.

Now, he's screwed.

He calls Sylvie as he gets back into his car, staring mournfully at the dark storefront. He's such an idiot.

"Hey! Everything okay?"

"No. I'm a moron."

"I very much doubt that."

"Yeah, hold that thought till after I tell you what's happened."

He recounts the story of agreeing to work for a friend of his mom's who runs a construction business and of how the job ran later than expected. He was in such a rush to leave that he forgot he still needed to pick up his dress clothes until he was stepping out of the shower. And by then the cleaners had already been closed for 10 minutes.

"I don't have any thing I can wear instead. Not to a dance. Not when you've probably got a beautiful dress picked out -- If I show up in slacks and a polo I'd embarrass the hell out of you."

"You wouldn't," Sylvie assures him. "At last year's Homecoming in Fowlerton my ex boyfriend wore jeans and a cowboy hat. I don't mind farmer wear on a daily basis but to a dance? I wanted to throttle him. Slacks and a polo would be perfectly acceptable to me."

He starts to think maybe he didn't ruin her first school dance in Chicago until she finishes her thought.

"But unfortunately the school dress code for the dance isn't quite so flexible."

Shit. He forgot about the school dress code. Even if he did work something out, they wouldn't let him in.

"Dammit, you're right. I'm so sorry, Sylvie. This is not how I wanted our first date to go. Maybe we can try again some other night?"

"Try again?" She asks, sounding appalled at the suggestion. "You're not getting out of tonight that easily, Matt Casey. Pick me up at 7 and wear slacks and a polo just like we talked about. I have an idea."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just because we can't go to the dance doesn't mean we can't hang out."

He shows up two hours later with a small bouquet of flowers and another apology ready to go, but his mind goes instantly blank when Sylvie answers the door in her Homecoming dress. It's a satin baby blue dress that matches the exact shade of her eyes. The top scoops, but is too high to be considered anything but modest and the front of the skirt skims the tops of her knees and then lengthens at the back. The fabric flows in a way that makes him think of a waterfall, gorgeous and serene. He's at a loss for any substantial words.

"Uh, wow. Hi."

She giggles and blushes, glancing down at her strappy silver heels. "Hi. Let me get my coat and we can go."

As she turns to head back inside he gets a glimpse of the back of the dress. It ties across her back in a wide bow and then leaves three inches of her skin exposed above the waistline of the skirt.

Yeah, a coat. She needs a coat. The urge to touch that little bit of smooth skin is going to take all the self control he has. She comes back with a black peacoat. It's on but open, the buttons undone and the sash untied.

She grabs his hand as she passes him and drags him down he hall toward her building's elevator. "Let's go before my mom forces us to take a million pictures."

They make it down to his truck very clumsily. Sylvie tripped over her shoes one or two times. Lucky for them both, Matt's got fast reflexes and caught her arm both times. They're laughing as he holds open his passenger door for her and offers his hand to help her climb in. Once she's settled he closes the door and hops in himself.

"So, what's the plan, boss?" Matt asks as he starts his truck.

"Oh, boss. I like that," Sylvie says with a smirk.

That smirk makes him want to lean across the middle console and kiss her, but he holds off. He'll wait for her to give him the green light.

"Head to the supermarket around the corner," Sylvie instructs.

"Supermarket?" Matt asks with a furrowed brow.

"Trust me."

He drives around the corner and parallel parks. As he parks, the reason Sylvie directed them here becomes clear. It's one of those markets with a salad bar and a hot buffet. Everything is fresh and affordable and can be packed up to go. "We're having supermarket hot wings?"

She laughs and nods. "Sure, if you want. I thought we'd pick up food here and then go have a picnic on the football field. No one will be there and we'll even be able to hear the DJ they hired for the dance. It'll be like our own private Homecoming celebration."

Oh, that's perfect, actually. Of course she'd think of that. She's brilliant. "That sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."

They get out and walk toward the supermarket. Sylvie grabs his hand as they pass through the automatic doors. He adjusts their hands to tangle their fingers together. The smile she points at him afterward is nothing short of radiant.

They each pick out an entree, a side, and a drink and head to the registers. The meal is easily more affordable than the fancy dinner he assumed he would need to treat her to and Sylvie seems just as excited about this food as she would about anything else.

She leans toward him to speak in a low voice as they wait their turn in line. "This chicken salad is amazing. I've been dreaming about it all week."

When they reach the cashier, Matt waves. They had English together last year. It must suck to have to work the night of the dance. "Hey, Naomi."

She smiles sweetly at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Matt, hi! I thought you'd be at the dance. What are you doing here?"

"We're on our way there," he replies. It's not technically a lie. They are going to the school after all. "But my date," he says nodding toward Sylvie and pointing a teasing grin at her. "Just had to have some of this chicken salad so here we are."

"Date?" Naomi asks, eyes widening with curiosity. "I just assumed you'd be going with Gabby again."

"Ah, no, Gabby and I broke up last year." He distracts himself from the interest in Naomi's stare and the awkward question by pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He nods to Sylvie again. "Have you met Sylvie Brett? She just started at our school this year."

Sylvie smiles but Matt can tell it's forced. Naomi skims a gaze over Sylvie but seems unimpressed. "I wish I'd known you were available. I've got to find better sources for my gossip."

"Yeah, okay," Matt says with a wince. "Can you ring us up? We're sort of eager to get going."

The smile on Sylvie's face doesn't waiver but he can see her eyes narrowing every so slightly. "By the way," she says, in a firm yet overly polite voice. "He's not."

"Not what?" Naomi asks as she turns her attention to the register and rings up their items.

"Available."

Matt should be offended that Sylvie's speaking for him. He used to hate it when Gabby did that and she did it a lot. But this moment with Sylvie is different. He's too thrilled to hear her claim him to care that she hasn't run it by him first.

That one word grabs Naomi's attention. She quirks a brow at Sylvie but otherwise ignores her, choosing to tell Matt his total instead. He pays, grabs Sylvie's hand, and leads them outside.

"Oh my god," Sylvie says, closing her eyes and hiding her face in his shoulder. "I can't believe I just did that. I am so sorry."

"Sylvie, really, it's fine--"

"No, I shouldn't have said that without talking to you about it first. Just because we're going on one date doesn't mean that you want everyone to think you're taken or that we're an item or something and I just went and blabbed that we are to -- whoever the heck that was. She was just so rude and blatantly checking you out right in front of me! It made me so mad and-- and--"

"Jealous?" He suggests, interrupting her with a mirthful smirk.

"Do not let that go to your head," she warns, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"Too late," he replies, taking her food from her and setting both their meals on the hood of his car. "Sylvie Brett just told the biggest gossip in school that I'm hers. If anything's gonna puff up my ego, it's that. Next time Sheffield comes sniffing around I'll be sure to tell him you're unavailable too. Truthfully, I can't wait. Maybe we'll run into him tonight."

"Wait, hold on," Sylvie says, stepping closer to him. "You're happy I basically told her you're mine like a jealous girlfriend?"

He shrugs, barely withholding a gleeful smile. "Like you said, she was rude. Naomi kinda deserved it. Plus, what if I told you I want you to be my girlfriend?"

Her confusion melts into elation. "You do?"

"More than anything."

She laughs and then bounces up onto her toes, grabbing his face and bringing his lips down to hers. It's a quick, excited kiss. Passionate but over much too soon. He responds by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him, resting his forehead on hers.

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes," Sylvie says, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Thank God," Matt says before he swoops in for another kiss. This one is deeper and longer and far more exploratory. Kissing Sylvie Brett is already one of his favorite memories and it's not even over yet. Nor will this be the last time he kisses her. No, he plans to keep coming back for more for as long as he can.

He never saw the new girl coming. She's flipped everything he thought he knew upside down and he's glad she did. His world needed a little shaking up. Thank God it was Sylvie that did the shaking. He doesn't want to imagine how his senior year would have started without her.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #matt casey x sylvie brett #furrynachosublime #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

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