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#and also i need to reach out about GA positions and that means i have to talk to professors
girlscience · 5 months
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trying to get to better as a person is so nauseating. was lonely yesterday so i messaged friends to try and plan hang outs. forced myself to ask about reference letters today even though i turned bright red and felt like crying. messaged friends tonight to ask if they could help keep me accountable so i don't feel like i'm doing everything alone. barf. i hate this. i want to hide in a hole
#THIS IS GOOD FOR ME IT WILL HELP BUT IT REQUIRES CHANGE#and i am realizing maybe i am significantly worse with change than i thought i was#ie my parents and sister and a few other people think i should apply to more schools#specifically more schools outside my comfort zone#and it would be so cool!!!! but it requires me to change the idea of 4 schools to like 6 or 8#and change from a few hours from home to like a days drive away or FARTHER#and this is already going to change my whole life's routine#and i'll be away from all my friends and family already#and i am just remembering how awful that was the first go around in undergrad#and maybe i am super scared of that happening again#and also i need to reach out about GA positions and that means i have to talk to professors#which is scary and also a change from undergrad cause i avoided talking to them as much as possible#and i am just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#so. hopefully some of this will help but also. i am crying inside. a lot.#i also need to change my fanfic habits because i honestly think it is like... the most time sucking thing in my life#and part of me wishes i never started reading fic because it gets in the way of me doing literally everything else i need to do#but stopping or even just cutting down on it is killer#but on the bright side i have been on youtube a lot less recently and leave it deleted off my phone for longer periods of time#which is good!!! it means i'm not on my phone as much#but yeah. stuff and things and trying to do stuff that's good for me is the worst
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agirlcandream84 · 2 months
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Random Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons
Just thinkin' about girly things.
Frank would never let you be lifting heavy things. Not even in an obvious way, it's almost unconscious the way he grabs the pack of canned seltzers out of your hands at the store or takes the suitcase from your grip as you navigate the airport.
He's always making sure you've had food, not only worrying that you're taking care of yourself but also knowing how you get when your blood sugar is low. "Have a snack before you go, yeah? I don't need you gettin' cranky on me."
If you're out in public, he's always got a hand on you. Your lower back, cupping your ass, splayed on your thigh, holding your hand-- you're never not in his touch bubble out in public.
Oh he's DEFINITELY a one-hand-on-the-steering-wheel-one-hand-on-your-leg driver. It gives you butterflies every time.
The minute you two became official was the minute you never needed to fill your gas tank again. You honestly didn't know when he even filled the tank (answer: usually in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep anyway) but it was always full.
He is a MAJOR sucker for a back scratch. In fact, it's his favorite way to fall asleep, your manicured nails dragging lightly on his back
Speaking of sleep, he thinks its adorable when you fall asleep on the couch, 4 minutes into a movie. The minute he sees you adjust to a prone position he teases you with a "goodnight sweetheart" and watches the rest of the movie with you sleeping beside him. Then he grunts as he bends to scoop you up from the couch and tuck you into bed.
He is obsessed, I mean OBSESSED, with your vanilla perfume. The man practically went feral the first time he smelled it on you. You breezed past him after getting ready for work, getting your earrings in and your mind preoccupied and before you know it, he's got his arm around your waist and his nose to your neck, sniffing deeply. He only manages a 'fuck honey" before tugging at the fabric to open your wrap dress and get you naked.
He is ALWAYS misjudging your stature and putting away items way too high on the shelf. Every day you find yourself teetering on your toes to reach the damn honey before you feel him breeze up behind you and grabbing it with ease, planting a kiss on your temple and mumbling 'sorry sweetheart" before handing you the honey.
The man simply loves a creampie. He loves to admire the fruits of his labor, savoring the way it dribbles out of you when he finishes. You cover your face in shame and he just says "nah, show me that pretty face sweetheart-- love the way you take me like that"
He's always got cash on him and is ready to hand over a a few $20s when it's time for your mani pedi and you never have any on hand to tip the technicians.
Ok that's all for now. I want this forever and ever bye.
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You know, for as much as I really don't like the AFO reveal of this chapter and how it looks to attack Tomura's agency; I do like how almost in the same breath it confirms just how much the things and people Tomura's been fighting for mean to him. And I need some Tomura positivity as a palate cleanser to AFO; so I think I'll join everyone in rightly gushed about his lines of being a hero for villains, because that part made me so happy.
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Like, I have heard over and over until now how Tomura doesn't and never did care about the League’s causes or all this systemic stuff he yaps about, he only cares about the trauma of having killed his family with the quirk he was born with. And that's all AFO's fault probably, so once the reveal is done it'd turn out Tenko has no reason to be a villain, since as the cringelord put it, "[Tomura's] never made a single decision of [his] own".
But immediately after learning just how much he cares about being born with Decay, we also learned that his conviction is not so shallow. He truly did and does want to be a hero for the people the system doesn't support & heroes don't save; the unpopular kids, the petty crooks, the complete psychos who no one, not even Deku would give a real chance too. For as much as it messes him up to think about his past; the hatred was just drive, gas in the tank much like Bakugou's attitude or whatever anger Deku reserves for guys like Overhaul or AFO.
And it’s not even just the League either; the entirety of the PLF’s 6-figure membership came around to him, and outside of them we see this chapter a handful of other civilians rooting for him instead of Deku. Heck, even before this chapter we heard mention of people who looked to and supported the League in secret; online and such. Some will call these isolated examples, but who knows how many or how few people there are looking at him as their symbol of hope instead of Deku or Endeavor because they too are desperate for a change the heroes aren't offering.
Redestro once asked what Tomura wants to build. He responded he only wants to destroy. I believe the full truth is that he wants to clear the way to a world for them.
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Despite what's claimed by AFO and readers who I feel overstate his impact on Tenko; Tomura really did care about the League, he cared about doing away with the threats to their lives & livelihoods, he wanted to be their hero and save them. Deku can reach his heart but no pretty words about holding hands could ever change that; and this core motivation never had anything to do with AFO.
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(I mean, unless it was. Everything else about Tenko was caused by AFO's manipulations in service to him apparently, why not his drive to be a hero for the discarded too? God I hate the direction that reveal is going, have I mentioned that yet? Oh how I hope expectations are subverted there.)
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*SaB season 2 spoilers! (I think mostly episode 5/6 onwards)*
Let’s talk about the hallucinations that Tolya, Kaz, Jesper, and Inej experienced when they were breathing in the poisonous/toxic gas. It was watching this scene that made me realise I was going to need to take notes if I wanted to convey my thoughts properly to you guys, so rest assured I have a lot to say.
It would seem at first that Jesper and Inej are experiencing things they desire, whilst Kaz and Tolya are being forged through their greatest fears, and I’ve seen a lot of people mentioning this. However, Jesper’s longing for his mother ultimately culminates in more pain for him, both in losing her and in the parts of himself that he’s been burying in her absence. He uses the experience to overcome his repression because he’s in a stable enough position (in terms of his emotional state relating to his mother’s death not his gambling addiction) to start healing, but that doesn’t mean mean that the experience isn’t still deeply painful for him. In a similar way, Inej’s hallucination shows her something that she cannot experience - not just because of Kaz’s pain but because of her own as well. When I fist watched it the hallucination bothered me a little, because although she internally expresses a desire to be with Kaz in the books, it is not something she physically wished for. However, the more I think about it the more I understand that this was necessary because it was absolutely the reason that she was the first of them to ‘wake up’, as it were, and acknowledge that the visions weren’t real. As much as she theoretically wishes for a relationship with Kaz, her desires are not only for him but more so to one day be capable of having a relationship at all. If the hallucination had shown her family or memories of her childhood like Jesper then it would have fooled her far more easily because she is prepared to want them and to want to go home. She is not prepared to want Kaz. When I initially made my notes about this I wrote about the “I will have you without your armour” scene in the books, not knowing that we would get to see it later on. In the books, Inej reflects on this conversation afterwards and wonders how she would have felt if Kaz had responded like she thought she wanted him to. Like him, she has a fear of physical contact - she describes flinching when Nina and Jesper hug her, and closes in on herself when Heleen touches her - but instead of protecting herself from contact like Kaz she forces herself through it in hopes of improving. Her fear of contact is less severe than his, in part because she feared reaching the point that he has where any future of touch seems impossible, and in part because her fear is not of touch alone but the impact that sexual contact will have on her state of mind. She wonders whether, had Kaz ‘taken her’ in that moment, she would have been able to reciprocate any kind of connection or if she would have shut down and become “a doll in his arms” as she was forced to do for survival at the Menagerie. If that happened, she would not only feel fractured and betrayed because of her mental state, but she would also never be able to see Kaz in the same way again; her would become aligned with every horror she experienced and all the pain she went through. Her pain is still to fresh; in the books she was only a year or two out of the Menagerie and I think we can assume it to be less in the show since Heleen still holds her contracts. Until she’s had time to heal she cannot possibly enter a relationship of this nature because it has the power to break her. There’s a tragically beautiful line in the books that I think described this really well when she says “And what was she supposed to do? Find a nice husband, have his children, then sharpen her knives whilst they slept? How would she explain the nightmares she still had?” It’s a heartbreaking line, but it also more than proves that she has not yet reached a place of healing because she cannot imagine being able to explain her experiences to the person she’d spend the rest of her life with. With this context, I think the most important part of her hallucination is that Kaz asks for permission before he touches her, but unfortunately I don’t think there is enough emphasis on her backstory to make this clear in the show.
I think that Inej and Jesper’s hallucinations appearing to be more about longing but ultimately being painful and Tolya and Kaz’s to be more about fear tells us a lot about their characters. If I had to group them as optimists and pessimists, I’d have probably called Jesper and Tolya the optimists and Kaz and Inej the pessimists, but I think this scene is telling me exactly why I was wrong. Starting with the pessimistic visions: Tolya is drip fed im his greatest fear whilst Kaz is forced into it immediately, and I think this is because Tolya is less pessimistic than Kaz but struggling to find his way to optimism. His vision takes place on the Volkvony/Hummingbird, making him feel endangered somewhere that he should feel safe and at home to kill his longing for optimism, and he finds Tamar slowly because he is trying to push away the thought of losing his sister but it just keeps coming back. I also think that arguably his greatest fear is not just her death, but somehow causing it. And then for the optimists: Inej’s vision differs from Jesper’s because she is finding it so difficult to remain the optimistic child she used to be. If she were still who she once was, she would have seen her parents or her brother, but instead she sees Kaz because her life has been narrowed from travelling through Ravka (and I think North Shu Han but I’m not sure?) to the limits and confines of Ketterdam alone, until the city has become her whole world. She is clinging desperately to the edge of this optimistic outlook, a child with no knowledge of how cruel the world can be, but the hallucination almost taunts her by showing her something she could be optimistic about if she wanted to but ultimately knows is unattainable, at least right now. Jesper’s is arguably very similar, which I think highlights how similar they are both on the family-oriented childhoods they both lost very suddenly and the way their personalities were shaped because of it, but his is overall more positive because he is closer to being able to heal from the loss of his mother than Inej is the loss of her innocence.
This is so long I’m so sorry I only just realised, if you read this far thank you very much I hope it was interesting enough for the effort
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thedirtybeanlife · 1 year
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Troubled Youth
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x CPTSD!Reader
(Platonic Soap x Reader if you squint)
Warnings: fem reader, brief mention of injury, talk of childhood trauma, reader has cptsd episode, cursing, non-sexual nudity
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: Reader has a CPTSD episode and Simon is there to ground her.
*Please do not read if you are easily triggered*
Stay safe and enjoy <3
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Today had been possibly the longest day ever. Nothing had gone right, not even at work or on the drive home. I woke up late, spilled coffee on myself, forgot my report papers, had to get gas, and my ID badge at work wouldn't scan to let me into the building which made me an extra ten minutes late. To say I was pissed was an understatement. I had made it through the day with only a million more inconveniences before my boss let me leave early, clearly seeing I wasn't performing as well as usual. The drive home was filled with rush hour traffic and the inability to find a good song to listen to.
Pulling up to the driveway, a smile formed on my face as I saw the beat up Chevy pickup on the cracked pavement of our driveway. He's finally home. Simon had been sent out with the rest of our team somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, meaning no contact for three months. Not even letters sent by mail or a quick pay phone visit. It’d been hard. Harder not knowing when he was coming back. If he was coming back at all, really. It was always a hard thing to do, let him go off into the dangers of the world like that. At any second a bullet could speed right through him and Soap and John would be the ones in my driveway instead. I was also a member of Task Force-141, but due to an injury out on the field I was put on leave for four months, and having to hear that my boyfriend died from people who are like family to me was not something I ever wanted to experience.
Thankfully, today the world decided to cut me some slack and bring my boyfriend home. I let out a long sigh as I turned the key over in the ignition, killing the engine. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest, taking in a deep breath to compose myself. After giving myself a look over in the visors mirror I got out of the car and locked it before approaching the front door. Just as I was about to reach up and turn the knob, the door swung open. In front of me was a grinning Simon who took one look at my face and immediately pulled me into his chest for a hug.
“Missed you so much, Love.” he whispered against the side of my head, his lips placing a few soft kisses to make sure I believed his words.
“Missed you too. Bad day.” I mumbled into his now crumpled shirt.
“Well, we can't have that, can we? Let’s get you inside. I’ll run you a bath and make us some tea after dinner and we can have a movie night.”
“No, I just want to sleep.” I whined, digging my head deeper into his chest.
His arms wrapped tighter around me as a chuckle reverberated through his chest, “Love, you need some food and a bath at least. It’ll make you feel better, promise. Then we can go to bed.”
For whatever reason his persistence was making me angry. I let out a huff and pulled away, bumping into his bulky frame to get through the doorway and walked over to our couch and threw myself onto it. I closed my eyes and started taking some deep breaths to help ground myself. Once again, I felt Simon come up in front of me.
“You're mad.” he stated simply, his voice sounding miles away as I could only think about how bad everything had gone today.
Not able to stop the intensity of the emotions I was feeling my head snapped up and I glared up at him, “Oh, I am? Wow, never would have guessed, Simon.” I rolled my eyes and went back to the position I was in, more anger radiating off me.
Seemingly taken off guard, having never seen me react like that before, he stayed quiet for a minute before trying again, “I just want to know what's got you feelin’ like this.”
“Bullshit! Nobody fucking cares about how I feel, Simon. I mean seriously, none of my family talks to me, I have no friends, I can't go back to my actual job for another month, and we’re away from each other for weeks at a time. I don't even know if you're alive half the time! It’s not fair.” I got up and went to walk away, but his words stopped me.
“I can't help it that we have important jobs, Y/N. It’s just how it is. We’ll work it out”. In hindsight, if I hadn't been so angry at the way today had gone, I probably would have heard the unbelievably apologetic tone in his voice, and never would have taken it the way I did.
“No, you know what? Fuck you Simon! You have no idea what it's like to have only one person in your life and you hardly get to see them because they're out in another country fighting some war the world doesn't even know about. I’m so scared everyday that Soap or Price are going to show up at our door or my office to give me your tags. I don't have anyone else in my life once your gone”, tears were now streaming down my face and I had managed to curl into myself on the couch and away from my boyfriend.
It was silent for a moment, but then he sighed loudly, which made me look up in fear as a response to how things would go in my childhood. I was met with the stone cold look on his face.
I showed emotion and I was going to pay for it.
That was the only thought running through my head as I looked into his eyes which looked more and more like my fathers by the second.
Simon was standing at his full height, my dads height, and staring down at me with such an intense gaze that it made my heart rate and breathing speed up. He took a step forward, and immediately I was overtaken with fear from the memories of my fathers wrath. Without a second thought, I looked up at him with fear and bolted off the couch and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and hiding in the shower. Shakily, I grabbed the lid to the tank of the toilet as a weapon in case I needed it. My breathing was quick and unsteady, nearly making me pass out, but that couldn't happen. I had to stay alert. I couldn't let the monster get me. Not again. Not after I had done everything I could to escape him.
My heart was beating in my ears and I felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage. My hands were shaking and the toilet lid kept slipping from how sweaty my palms had gotten. Cold chills were racking my body and the nausea refused to go away. I felt like I was suffocating.
A gentle, low, knock on the door made my head snap in its direction and raise my weapon even higher and more confident. I took a deep breath as I saw the knob slowly turn and the door be pushed open about an inch. A large black nail polish and ring covered hand pushed a journal and a goofy looking child's pen across the floor of the small bathroom. The door was slowly pulled closed, a quiet click sounding from the rings clacking against the metal knob.
That quiet click is what made me snap out of it. My father didn't wear rings or nail polish, this wasn't my childhood bathroom, and that was the man who I was never supposed to be scared of. The man I wasn’t scared of. I let out a shaky sob as I fell to the floor in realization of what just happened, and what I had said to Simon. I felt awful for even thinking like that. I took a few minutes to compose myself, blankly staring at my journal he had thoughtfully slid into the room. He knew me so well. More than I knew my self, honestly.
With a few more shaky deep breaths, I looked over at the door and called out, “Simon?” my voice was rough from the crying I had done throughout the day and the screaming on the ride home.
“Yes, Darling?” his voice was quiet hidden behind the door. I needed it beside me.
“Can you… You can come in now.” I spoke loud enough for him to hear.
I heard some shuffling before the door was opened. Simon slowly crept in, quiet as possible as he approached me. He crouched down to where I was sitting, toilet lid still tightly clutched in my hands with my knees to my chest.
“Why do you have the lid to our toilet, love?”
“It’s a weapon…”
“No weapons needed here. Can i have that to put back? I promise nobody is going to hurt you, Honey.”
Honey. I love when he calls me that.
Taking my silence as a yes, he delicately grabbed the cold, white porcelain from my hands and placed it on the ground next to him.
“Okay, good. Do you want to get out of the shower now?” his voice was soft, almost like he was talking to a small child. It was comforting. Safe. Very new as well.
I shook my head and started playing with the hem of my shirt as I tried to figure out what to say to him. My eyes shifted to meet his and it was quick to ease the buzzing in my ears. The familiarity of the way his nose was slightly crooked, and the way his lips always had a slight frown unless he was smiling or laughing. The stubble on his chin had grown since I last saw him, a beard now present on his face. How hadn't I noticed that earlier?
“I’m awful.” I whispered as I looked away, embarrassed by my reaction to him simply making a sound around me.
“No, we're not doing that. None of that, okay? I don't know what happened, or how today has gone for you, but I want you to listen to me. Nobody is mad at you, nobody is going to hurt you. I love you so, so, so much, and I want to help you. Please, Y/N, let me take care of you. Let me make you feel better. I’ll run you a bath and sit here with you. Then we can order some food. Maybe while we eat, we watch a movie, and you can tell me about how shitty today has been so you can turn your brain off and breathe. How’s that sound?"
Tears started welling in my eyes as he spoke. He was never good with words, but he had moments like these where he made my heart explode with the love I had for him.
“Can I touch you?” he asked.
I nodded with a small smile. He let out a breath of relief and his hands slowly came up to cup my face and wipe my tears away. I melted under his touch, sinking forward until my forehead met his shoulder. His arms moved to wrap around my body, making every bad thing from today disappear. He leaned back and sat fully on the floor, pulling my body from the glass shower into his lap. My arms wrapped around his torso as my nose breathed in the comfort of his scent.
“I’m sorry I said ‘fuck you’, and that you don't know what it's like to not have people. You definitely do. Also for making you think I was scared of you. I promise I’m not. You’re the only person I’m not scared of.” I mumbled into his burning hot skin, relishing in the way it heated up the side of my face.
He once again grabbed the sides of my face and carefully moved me to look up at him,” I know PTSD when I see it. Don’t apologize for something that you have no control over. I understand.” his eyes had a look in them that made me really believe his words.
“I love you.” I yawned, trying to muzzle into him more than I already was.
“I love you too, but that doesn't mean you're skipping out on dinner and a bath. So, up we go.” he was quick to tighten his grip on me and lift us both up off the bathroom floor.
“But I’m tired and shaky now.” I frowned up at him.
He leaned down to give me a small peck on my nose, “That’s why I do all the work and you just sit there and look pretty.” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes and gave him a small laugh which made his smirk turn into a large grin. He gave me another quick kiss on my lips before crouching back down to take off my socks and shoes. His thumb ran over the thin piece of tethered paracord wrapped around my ankle, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at the scar next to it.
“Soap that’s such a bad idea!” I laughed over the loud music.
“Oh, come on! We’re best friends now so we have to have friendship bracelets!” he laughed back just as hard.
Task Force 141 had just gone on an extremely difficult intel retrieval mission, all of us nearly dying towards the end of it. We were all at base safe thanks to Laswell calling in air support at just the right time when she noticed we hadn't checked in on comms as directed. Soap and I had gotten the worst of it, multiple bullet wounds and we had burns from being trapped in one of the burning buildings. We had quite a dramatic ‘my life is ending here's my dark secrets’ moment. Once we realized we weren't actually dying, we made an agreement to never speak of it again, shaking on it and working together to get out of the building with the help of the rest of our team on the other side.
Ever since then Soap and I have been joined at the hip. Even off base, much to Simon’s dismay. Soap knew about everything from my childhood. He was typically the person I went to when I felt like I was at a breaking point, knowing Simon shouldn't have to deal with my childhood trauma on top of his. Soap had begged me to tell my boyfriend, knowing he'd understand more than anyone, but I could never bring myself to do it.
“Your drunk ass is going to burn me.” I shook my head, a drunk smile plastered on my face.
Soap and I had gone to a bar a few blocks away from base, needing a drink after the shitshow of a mission Shepherd just sent us all on. The other three stayed back and worked on paperwork and ordered some food, telling us not to get too ‘dog pissed’, as Simon had put it. We were well into our sixth glass of alcohol by now, heavily intoxicated like we were instructed not to do.
“No I won’t! If I did, you’ve had worse so I know you'll be fine.” he joked, hinting at our earlier predicament.
I snorted at his drunk humor and stood up, placing a fifty on the counter and grabbing my jacket, “I hope the dollar tree is still open, asshat.” I stumbled past him and out into the night air, smiling up at the sky as I took in a breath.
Soap eventually stumbled his way out as well and we headed to the nearest dollar store to buy the materials we would need for our drunk sleepover activity. It took us about an hour to find everything we needed, the alcohol not helping us. The old cashier looked annoyed as she scanned our items and took Price’s stolen crumpled dollar bills, but it only made us laugh when we walked out of the store.
Using the least amount of stealth possible, we snuck into my room on base through the window to avoid the lectures from Price and Ghost, and of course the embarrassment from Gaz’s morning camera roll viewing. I managed to drop one of the bags, a pack of lighters, and Cheetos falling out of it. Soap laughed at me, making me throw the rest of the stuff at him, hitting him in the face with it.
“God you're an arse!”
“So are you!” I retaliated loudly, Soaps eyes widening as he realized how loud we were being.
We both made ourselves go silent before snorting and separating everything in piles that made sense to our intoxicated brains. It took us about thirty minutes to actually sit down and start measuring the rope around our ankles. Being less drunk than Soap, I was the one to use the knife to cut the paracord rope.
“If you burn me Johnny, God is the least of your worries.”
“What the bloody hell does that mean?” he looked up in fear.
I just smiled sweetly at him and motioned for him to continue. He nervously, and drunkenly, started burning the rope to make the pieces melted together and form a bond. In a matter of seconds, the flame met my ankle and burnt it, causing me to let out a small yelp and jerk it away from him. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes as my angry ones met his.
“Run.”
I quietly laughed as I recalled the memory,”Never trusting that fool again. Drunk or not.”
He stood back up, his fingers ghosting over my body until he reached the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His lips met my shoulder in a small kiss as his fingers reached around to unclasp my bra and let it fall over my arms and onto the floor with my shirt. Before Simon reached to unbuckle my pants he gave me one last look just to make sure I was okay with it. I smiled up at him, nodding my head slightly. He had never undressed me like this before. It was something I wanted to experience every time I showered from now on. The way his warm hands left goosebumps as they trailed down my bare skin and to the button of my pants. It was in no way sexual, but the feeling of the love that was radiating off of him was practically making me high.
He carefully pulled my pants and underwear down, lifting my feet from the floor one at a time to help me step out of them. After picking up my clothes and putting them in the hamper, he grabbed my robe from off the back of the door and held it up for me to step into, “I’ll start your bath, go pick out something to wear. Make sure it’s warm and comfo- what?”
He was cut off by my bottom lip jutting out and my eyes widening in disappointment,”But you always pick out the best stuff!” I pouted, fully giving into the treatment I was getting from him tonight.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.” he teased, leaving the room for about a minute, coming back with clean pajamas and one of his hoodies.
I smiled at the thought of being able to wear it when he was done pampering me. Simon had me sit up on the counter while he prepared my bath, the temperature of the water and amount of bubble bath muscle memory by now. It took a few minutes, but when he was done and stood back, the steam rising in the air and the smell of lavender and vanilla was almost intoxicating and inviting as him. He reached his hand out for me to grab, which I did, using his arm to stabilize myself as as I stepped into the hot water. A long sigh of relief tore through my lips as I submerged the rest of my body, my eyes fluttering closed.
Seconds later, Simon's hand was dragging his fingers through my hair, using another to scoop water onto my hair to wet it. The way he moved his fingers through the strands of hair were a stark contrast to the way he used his hands on the field. It made it that much more domestic. Another thirty minutes was spent of Simon washing my hair and body before he had me get off and changed into the clothes he had picked out for me. He guided me out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand as we walked down the hallway and into the living room. Calloused hands led my body to sit on the couch. Grabbing the remote to the tv, he pressed the power button and it turned on. A minute or two was spent of him scrolling through apps on the tv before he stopped on YouTube and opened it. Working at a pace only Simon could, he searched up Kipper and played the first full episode that popped up.
“Kipper? Why are we watching British Clifford at our age?” was all I asked, too baffled by his choice of entertainment.
Simon laughed, the sound warm and melodious. He set the remote down and attempted to run his fingers through my wet, tangled hair. My heart fluttered at the sound of it. It was rare getting to hear him let loose and laugh like that, especially when it was over something dumb I said. After his laughter died down he took a deep breath and looked down at me, lowering himself to place a kiss on my chapstick covered lips.
“It’s what I used to watch as a kid when things started gettin’ scary. Maybe it’ll help. Just watch fuckin’ British Clifford ‘n let me do your hair. Food will be here any minute.” he spoke, still chuckling at the phrase I used to describe his childhood tv show.
Simon and I had been dating for well over three years now, but with both of us struggling with forming relationships, we were only at the two month mark with our emotions. So hearing him confess something like this made my breath catch in my throat.
“Mine was F/S.” I mumbled, a large smile resting on my face as I watched the orange dog on the screen.
The rest of the evening was rather peaceful. Cartoons on the tv, stomachs full of cheap take out, and Simon refused to let go of me the entire time. He said it was to help me feel better, but I knew deep down he needed it just as much.
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justmeinadaze · 1 year
Text
A Virtual Romance Part 3 (Steve X Reader)
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A/N: My last chapter! Ugh I love them. I wouldn't remind revisiting them from time to time.
Warnings: Hella smut. Protective and fluffy Steve! Reader goes over some past trauma. Very brief. She also stands up to Carol (get her girl!)
Word count: 3272
YOU
“I can’t believe I told him the truth. I’m so stupid.”, you lean your forehead against your locker. 
“I can’t believe prince charming is Steve fucking Harrington.” You try and shush Sam as she pulls her head back from your hand. “I mean, I seriously didn’t picture him as the romantic type.”
“What am I going to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Talk to him?” She loops her arm in yours as you both head for your next class. “In fact, how about right now?” Sam plants her feet as her eyes gesture to your left.
Steve was leaning against the wall talking to the girl you remember seeing him with at the restaurant. Your heart dropped as you watched him smile down at her. 
Now that I told him who I am maybe he’s rethinking about giving her a chance.
She’s not you…
“I’m going to go. I’ll see you next period.” Your head hung low as you started your walk in the opposite direction. 
You abruptly ran into something solid as your body fell to the floor, your books scattering around you. 
“Jesus! Can’t you fucking walk!?”, Carol sneered down at you. Tommy came up to his girlfriend’s side. “This is the second fucking time she’s been in my way.”
Sam grabbed your arm, helping you to your feet. “Fuck off, Carol. Don’t you two have somewhere else you need to be?”
A small crowd started to form around you guys to watch the show. 
“I’m sorry and who are you? That’s right. No one cares.” Her heavily made-up eyes look towards you. “If I have to tell you again to watch where you are going it won’t end well.”
“How will it end, Carol?” Something inside of you snapped and you ground your feet, facing her. “I’m not afraid of you but I’m tired of you being a bitch to me all the fucking time.”
Her and Tommy chuckle as she takes a step forward. “Do you really want to embarrass yourself like this? Because I can end you just like that.” She snaps her fingers to emphasize her point. 
“Don’t fucking touch her.”
STEVE
“Look Allyson, I’m sorry. I’m just into someone else.”
“Come on, Steve.” She reached her hand up and placed it on his chest making him cringe. 
The sound of students gathering down the hallway caught his attention. Without saying a word, he moved Allyson to the side as he slowly headed in that direction. He caught Carol’s aggressively bitchy tone and Tommy’s snarky laugh. He stood on his toes to peak over some of the other kid’s heads. 
That’s when he heard your voice. 
Steve began pushing through the crowd to get to you. 
“…Because I can end you just like that.”
“Don’t fucking touch her.” He positioned himself in front of you and your friend. “Let it go, Carol.”
“Steve, what the fuck are you—”
“Shut up, Tommy!” The students murmured to each other as Tommy moved Carol behind his own back.
“Do you want to fight because we can do this right here.”
“Steve…”, you voice comes out small behind him. 
Both boys continue to glare at each other before the energy between them finally explodes as Tommy grabs Steve’s collar shoving him against the lockers. Kids begin shouting and whistling as they tumble to ground. 
“Hey! What’s going on here!?” Several of the teachers come out of their classrooms trying to make their way through the crowd of onlookers. 
“Tommy! Come on!” Carol grabs his arm, pulling him down the hallway. 
“Let’s go, Steven!” Sam grabs you and Steve, pulling you both out the door and into the parking lot. 
YOU
“Geez, who would have thought Steve the Hair Harrington could throw a punch. Here you go, pretty boy.” Your best friend hands him a can of soda she bought at the nearby gas station. 
“Uh, thank you…”
“Sam and, of course, you know Y/N.” She roughly pushes you forward. “Oh my god, I was so focused on your prince charming, are you ok? You fell on your ass kind of hard.”
“Yes, thank you, Samantha. I am fine.” You sigh as Steve smiles pressing the can to his cheek. 
“I imagine bumping into her is like walking into a wall of hairspray.”
“Thank you, Sam!” She chuckles at your embarrassment. “To be fair, the first time she shoved me into a car. I didn’t bump into her.”
“That day in the parking lot? When she knocked all the stuff out of your hands.” Your eyes meet at his recognition. 
Sam clears her throat. “Well, since I’ve escaped, I’m not going back to class. I’m going to walk home from here.”
“Hey, I can drive you.”, Steve points to his car. 
“Nope. I’m good. I’ll just get my car tomorrow. Maybe you can give me a ride then after Y/N finally opens up about her feelings when it comes to you being prince charming!”
Sam giggles as your head falls into your hands, waving before disappearing down the street. 
“Prince Charming?”, he asks nudging you with his shoulder. 
“That’s what she calls you. Well, StealthyNinja02.”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Steve watches your face as you continue to look down at the ground. “It does bother you, doesn’t it?”
“No…”
“Then why won’t you look at me?” You lift your eyes to meet his sassily and his soft smile pierces your heart. “Can we go somewhere and talk? We can go to my house. My parents are out of town again.” Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Can we go to mine?”
###################
YOU & STEVE
Steve casually takes in his surroundings as he follows you up the stairs. He smiles at the pictures on the wall, stopping to point at one.
“Is this your family?”
“Yeah, that’s my dad, me, and my stepmom.” You point to another picture below it. “These are her kids from another marriage but they live with their dad.”
“Do you have any pictures of your mom?” 
You motion for him to follow you, heading for your bedroom. Kneeling down, you reach for a photo album, handing it to him. Steve takes a seat on the edge of your bed as you sit across from him, crossing your legs. 
“You said she just left, right?” He flips slowly through each page, taking in every image. 
“She left my dad when I was about four. I don’t remember very much.”
“I know it’s not the same but when I was a kid, I used to wish my dad would leave. Just disappear so I wouldn’t have hear him tell me how much of a failure I am.” He grins as he points to baby you. “You’re cute.”
“Steve, you didn’t have to do what you did today. Everyone’s going to be talking about it you know that, right?”
He sighs in frustration as he closes the album and places it on your bedside table. “What do I have to do or say to convince you that I mean it when I say I don’t care. Y/N, I don’t care about that stuff anymore. I don’t care about Tommy or Carol. I don’t care about my family or any of that superficial bullshit that this town is obsessed with. I. Don’t. Care!”
“You say that but I don’t think you really understand what that means!”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s flip it around then. You’re the popular kid. Tomorrow when you get to school all the jocks and cheerleaders love you and your now Carol’s best friend. Would you treat the kids any differently? Would yoube any different?”
“No but that’s because I’ve been on this side, Steve. I know how ruthless they can be.”
He stands up and starts pacing. His eye’s flick towards yours before he stops, placing his hands on your hips. 
“I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t fucking care. If you want to keep pushing me away because you’re scared or something that’s fine but don’t sit there and pretend like you’re doing me a favor. I knew from the moment we started talking that you were different. When I saw you at the dance in that gorgeous dress, I swear to God my heart stopped. I couldn’t believe a fucking angel like you had been talking to me all this time.”
A snort left your nose as you covered your mouth, making him smile. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m being prince charming here.” 
Steve got down on his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his. “I’m serious. If you think for one second that I don’t genuinely like you or that I’m just going to go back to being ‘King Steve’ then… ouyay…areyay…umbday.” With the last word his voice cracked, not sure if he was saying it correctly. 
“Did you just call me dumb?”, you grin down at him. 
“I think so but honestly I can’t be sure.”
He cuts your laugh off by bringing your lips to his own. Your hands reached down to cup his face, deepening the kiss as you guided him off the floor and on top of you. 
Steve’s hand glides to your lower back lifting your body and shifting you around so your head is resting on your pillows. A quiet whimper echoes from your throat as his hips grind against your own. You wrap your legs around his waist trying to pull him as close to you as you can manage. 
“You know, I loved you in that dress at the dance but I hated I wasn’t able to be this close to you.” Steve craned his neck so he could watch your face scrunch with pleasure as he pressed himself harder into you eliciting a small groan of his own. 
“Always something in the way, hm?” You smile up at him as you lift your hips to pull down your pants and kick them the floor. “A screen, a dress…” Reaching for his hand, you guide his fingers between your legs and place them on the outside of your now soaking underwear. 
“Nothing in the way now.”
“Jesus…” Almost too delicately, he moved the piece of fabric to the side and slid his middle finger through your folds. “You’re going to kill me.”
Steve’s eyes focused in on his hand as he slowly pressed circles against your throbbing clit. Your moans were music to his ears. 
“Um, you can… you can go faster or harder…if you want to.” He turned to look at you as you licked your bottom lip. “It’s ok.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Am I teasing you a bit?” When you nod your head, he leans down, placing his head on the pillow beside you. Steve’s heart skips a beat when you slide closer to his body so your side was pressed against his stomach. After so many months of not having next to him, it was euphoric to finally be experiencing it and when his brown eyes locked on yours, he knew you felt it to. 
Your hand caressed his face as you brought your lips to his. The moment his tongue touched your own his finger entered your core, making you gasp. Your head arched back as he set a steady rhythm with his hand, his mouth dragging down your throat. 
“Steve, please.”
“Can I taste you?”
You nodded your head aggressively as he quickly rose to his knees and lifted of his shirt. You did the same as he tugged your panties down your legs with a smile.
“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N.” Steve leaned over you placing small pecks along your stomach and down one of your legs as you reached over to run your fingers through his hair. 
You mewled as he reinserted his digit into your pussy. “I think you were right. I don’t think two fingers was enough. Then again,” he pushed in a second finger and you cried out in ecstasy as he stretched you open. “I hadn’t seen how small your hands were. Mine are much bigger.”
He leaned into you, wrapping his mouth around your clit. 
“Yes, Steve. Please, just like that.”
The sound him suckling and flicking your nub as his fingers began pumping rapidly inside of you filled the room. You leaned up on your elbows to watch him as his eyes glanced up towards yours. Your legs began to shake as your cunt started tightening around him. You placed your hand on his head, holding Steve to you as you came. 
He licked you clean as your body twitched with every tap of his tongue. “You’re so sensitive. I love it.” You sit up, grabbing his neck as you pull him to you for a sloppy kiss. You moan as you taste yourself on his breath. “You taste fucking amazing. Way better then I pictured when I would fantasize about you while I touched myself.”
You sigh as his fingers reach between your legs again. “It’s fucking hard for me to stop. I just want to eat you out all day and watch you cum like that again.”
“Please. I want to feel you inside of me.”, you plead with him as your hand rubs the massive bulge in his jeans. “Please.”
You watch with eager eyes as he bounces his body to the edge of your bed, pulling off his jeans and boxers. He pauses for a moment, searching through the pockets. 
“Um, we may have a problem. Fuck.”
“Oh no, Steve Harrington. Whatever will we do.”, you grin at him sarcastically as you reach into your nightstand drawer and produce a condom.
He laughs as he takes it from you, stopping to kiss your lips. “You’re an angel.” Steve’s body freezes, closing his eyes when he feels you scoot closer to him. You lean your chin on his shoulder as one of your hands rubs his chest.
“Are you okay? Do you need help?”
“No, I, mmm,” his chest deflates as he lets out a low moan. “I like feeling your hands on me. Not just sexually but even just this.” He places his large palm over yours. “I know we’ve been talking online and everything but, I don’t know, it feels like you’ve been gone for a long time. Like I’m seeing you again after many months of you being away.”
He turns to lock eyes with you. “It’s been lonely out here without you.”
Your mouth connects with his before he focuses his attention back on his original task. He tears open the condom, sliding it on before throwing the wrapper on the floor. As he begins climbing up your body, you place your hands on his shoulder, flipping him on to his back. 
Steve grips his cock, guiding it towards your entrance. You mouth opens in a silent, blissful O as the tip of him breaches your body. 
“Oh my god. Fuck…”
As another inch pushes in, he lets himself go allowing you to take over at your own pace as you adjust to his size. His hands come up to grab your cheeks as your face hovers over his own. 
“There you go, baby. You got it. You can take it. Just take your time.” You grind your hips cautiously, taking more of him in a little at a time. “Such a good girl. Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N.”
You both whimper when he bottoms out inside of you. As you slowly start to bounce against him, you feel Steve’s warm pants against your cheek as his hands reach over to grip your waist. When you keen back into his touch, your breasts graze his mouth and he immediately takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking as you moan his name.
“I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say my name. Say it again, Y/N, please.” His eyes open when you don’t respond, your own squeezed shut as you gnaw on your bottom lip. 
Steve’s fingers pressed harder into your skin as his hips thrust up meeting your own. “Yes! Steve. Fuck! I’ve never…”
You fall onto his chest but his palms come up to lift your head. “You’ve never what? Tell me, baby.” He hangs onto your lower back as he flips you over without pulling out. Steve’s forehead rests on your own as he keeps encouraging you. “Please, tell me.”
Your fingers cling to his shoulders as your lips reach up to kiss his. “I’ve never…had someone…so deep. Steve, you feel…fuck so fucking good. Don’t stop. I’m almost…almost there.” You nod your head brushing your nose with his. “Make me cum, Steve. Please.” As you continue to repeat your request, his mouth opens as he whimpers over you, slamming his hips into yours.
He pushes two fingers into your mouth and you suck on them willingly before he pushes them between your legs and aggressively rubs circles on to your clit. 
You cry out, shouting his name repeatedly as the coil in your belly snaps. His head falls in the nook of your neck, chasing his release as he grunts into your skin. You run your nails down his back, kissing every part of his skin you can reach before you feel his pace faulter and with a couple more thrusts spills into the condom. 
Steve's body completely collapses on to yours, pushing him deeper into your now over sensitive pussy. His head shoots up to look down at yours as you wince and moan.
“I’m sorry. Am I too heavy?”
“No. I’m just too sore.” You giggle as you watch the lightbulb go off in his head. 
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Hang on, honey.” Steve lifts up on his arms as he tries to carefully pull out of you. He tugs off the condom and throws it in your trashcan before laying by your side. 
“I like hearing you call me that. Honey. Baby.” You smile at him with half open eyes. 
“Definitely better than Ouyay.” He chuckles as he reaches out for you and you move your body to lay your head on his chest. 
“Steve?” He answers with a hm as his palm pets your head. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I was so scared to tell you who I was. I’m glad you pushed me.” He turns to kiss your forehead.
“I hope I didn’t push you too hard. I just really wanted to do all those things I promised you I’d do.” Steve smiles when he sees your eyebrows knit together. “Wrapping my arms around you every morning before school and every night when I drop you off. Kissing you every chance I get…”
You laugh at him as he turns over pressing kisses against your cheek. 
“I can’t believe you remember saying all that.”
“Oh yeah. I remember all of our conversations especially a particular sexy one where I mentioned eating you out until you were begging me to stop. Now that I know how sweet you taste I know for a fact I wouldn’t stop.”
“Steve,” you playfully push his shoulder. With fast reflexes he grabs your wrist and throws your arm behind his neck as he looks down at you with soft, caring eyes. 
“Thank you for giving me a chance and not just seeing me how they do.”
You place your other arm around him as you pull him against your body. You groan when your phone beside your bed rings. He grins as he rolls onto his back allowing you to answer it. 
“Hello?”
“So?”, Sam’s voice chimed through the earpiece. “How did it go with Prince Charming?!”
###################
@tessab154 @snackycake1975 @lunatictardis
@k-k0129 @sillypurplemurple @aree-you-sirius-rn
@selfdeprecatingnerd @blackholegladiator @xtrokeme
@strangerthingsstories5255 @hllfrclb @ladysteddie
@bebe0701 @rebecca-johnson-28 @etherealforever234
@trikigirl271 @marimarvelfan @ssababe @love-kurdt
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iwanthermidnightz · 10 months
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As usual, I’m gonna share the parts of this article that resonate with me (pretty much all of it). Several points were made. And the unapologetic queer visibility makes me so proud. Please give it a read 🥲
LD: I also do want to say, even though there is a bunch of awesome overlap with the trans community and the drag community, transness and drag are separate things — but that's the reason why we did it [in Tennessee], is because those things are being conflated here.
It's crazy that we were on tour for all of Pride Month and being pretty f*cking gay, and talking about gay rights on stage. You’d think that the circles that we run in would be like, yeah, cool, but I feel like there is still… Prejudice towards gay people comes from all sides, including gay people.
I have, you know, rolled my eyes at certain aspects of Pride, just the corporate aspect of things. We were hanging out with a friend who was like, yeah, the gas station has a pride flag, but I'm still getting looked at funny in the streets; what is Pride actually doing?
JB: Shell Oil Company is like, happy pride! Like, okay.
LD: It's weird, the more comfortable I am, the more opposition I feel from other people who are discontent with how I qualify as a gay person. I'm like, Do you need a sex tape?
PB: As someone who doesn't qualify as gay, I can't participate in this conversation. I haven't sent in enough chips to corporate. [laughs]
I speak for all of us [when I say] I feel like our communities are so supportive, like f*cking rainbows and buttercups all the time. We're really good at making friends and we have so much support around each of us, and so much privilege, and each live in an accepting place and choose accepting people to be around. But when I or Lucy get hate for not turning in our like, gay paperwork, all I'm thinking is about the way that I would have felt at f*cking age 11 being like, Oh, I'm not allowed to do that. This famous person is being humiliated for expressing themselves, and so I should not, I especially should not express myself.
JB: I don't get as much hate because people are like, there goes a lesbian. You know what I mean? [All laugh.]
LD: It’s really binary.
JB: I've spent a lot of my life being a masc dressing queer person, or just not engaging with gender play at all. It’s like, queer people saying that you have to acquiesce to one of three queer archetypes, or one of a handful of queer archetypes in order to be represented.
LD: That's why our shows are so special to me is that they are very gay. People are throwing flags at us, young people are making out in front of us, it is a space that is precious to me and would have changed my life if I could have been a part of it when I was younger. I'm extremely proud, and I just implicitly love everybody at our shows at a base level. I think we all do. The reason we're doing it is because we care abstractly about all these strangers and want for them what we could have had. Also we're coming from a position where we're talking to a bunch of young people, we do get to put messages worth hearing out there, I think that's not lost on us.
PB: I am mostly proud of the way that I watch the discourse [play out], and I'm proud of the conclusions that these children are coming to. Everybody is sticking up for us and each other and there's just a couple weirdos that are very loud. I think our community is being protected by the people in it. And it is such a safe space show, and I'm so fucking proud. Even the amount of femme people in the audience, screaming at the top of their lungs and having to take up a high octave... It’s a different rock show than I've ever experienced. It’s amazing to me.
JB: The microphone I have with y'all, the reach is wider, it just factually is, and I think a lot about responsibility to hear [others’ opinions…] To be the subject of discourse at all is to live a question into the world, so I will allow myself to do that. I will allow a little bit of my identity — which as a queer person, I've been at once defensive of and fiercely protective of and encouraged to erase completely — I'm like, okay, so I have to exist with this identity subsumed into the culture, into the topic of someone's conjecture. Because it's going to be one case study. That's the whole idea of visibility, visibility doesn't have to be perfect representation.
I was thinking about this too, something that bugged me was that meme that was the talent and popularity graph and it was popularity way above talent, and they were like, “This is boygenius.” You're missing the damn point. [If only the most talented people got to speak,] Steve Vai would be speaking for all f*cking musicians because he's best at guitar. That's not what I want.
PB: But again, that is just Twitter. I think we are as beloved as is possible for any public, femme presenting, or queer, in public. I think we just get an amount of hate because we're stepping on guitar guys. It is fucking dumb, and it is just what is happening. Every time I look at a Pitchfork post of us, it's the most incel f*cking shit ever in the comments section.
JB: I was telling Lucy, I feel like if someone made that meme about me, Julien Baker, on a solo headlining tour, I would be up at four in the morning in the back lounge of the bus running scales. With y'all, I'm like, You're missing the point you dumbass. It's like Kathleen Hanna being like, the Sex Pistols are bad at their instruments. Why can I not just have a band that's fun and cool and angry?
LD: I wanna say, we're a little fed up, obviously, with some things, but I agree with you, Phoebe, the biggest sentence I have to say is we're having so much fun. That is the message that I think people are mostly getting, and the one that I want them to get, is that we are happy and having fun, and that is not frivolous at all. Fun is essential.
PB: Everybody knows every word to the entire set. We sell thousands of tickets. It is going as good as humanly possible. It is insane.
LD: And it's because we feel safe and supportive that we can mostly safely and supportively do drag in Tennessee. It's because we have such a solid foundation of joy we can be in defense of other people's joy, in ways that feel really valuable to me personally, and I hope valuable to other people.
JB: The whole reason why I feel comfortable engaging with this at all and it's not an existential crisis for me is because, what you're saying, Lucy: I have a foundation of joy that makes me convicted that this is important, not frivolous, highly worthy, highly valuable. So when I see us as the subject of discourse I'm interacting with it in a different way that I don't think I'd be able to [alone]. I wonder if kids watching that in third person happen will also be resilient to the same kind of things.
PB: You’re allowed to be bad at guitar, anybody reading this.
LD: I’m bad at guitar.
PB: Other shit, you do have to work so hard. And you have to love it. If you love playing guitar and you're bad at guitar, that rocks.
TV: What other moments would you highlight? I feel like there’s been a lot of good ones, like the t-shirt selling out.
PB: Love, love to just have the power to snap my fingers and mobilize people to give their money away to a cause. That is the best part of my job.
JB: It’s participation. It’s visibility. It's you, outward signaling something you believe in as a principle. It's also literally redistributing funds to us to organizers, nonprofits and legislators that are trying to make the world a better place. And we get to be in charge of that, and also give somebody a gift that's like, you're a country queer! We see you.
TV: Did you expect the fans to be so young this tour? I’ve been really impressed!
LD: It's interesting, I think Julien was saying this, being something through which some kids are learning some stuff. I usually am really upset when I'm misunderstood, but I think that part of that happening now is people on their way to understanding something that I think is important and outside of me, that we are just a case study for, and that is just a really sweet and special position to be in.
JB: This really gets to me, I'll see a group of friends all hugging during our set, a collection of songs about grieving and leaning on your friends. I'll be like, What did y'all go through? Something f*cking horrible.
I think about this with the credibility or the legitimacy of music, like with the whole Pitchfork incel guy, it goes back to that. I'm like, dude, I love that a bunch of kids are at our show. I've said it once, I'll say it again: I took a class in young adult literature. And I was like, wow, this is maybe the most important kind of literature. Paradise Lost is for people who think that their brain is big, young adult literature is for f*cking people who don't know what literature is yet — they need a window, they need a door. They need a pass. Phoebe you were saying, like, music that not-adult cis white guys like.
LD: Those guys are showing up too, and good for them. And if they're the ones that are mad about this, maybe they're on their path of understanding something better, too.
JB: I cry at all the kids, man.
PB: Me too.
JB: My mom texted me and was like, I would have died if there was something like y'all when I was a kid — and I don't even think she gets some stuff we're saying.
PB: It's funny to [realize] I would have bleached my hair and wanted to be me.
JB: Dude, it's so f*cking sick. I think about me at 16 — I was trying to be a hardcore guy, I wanted to get tattoos, I wanted to play guitar in a band. And then I just turned out… me. I used to try to make my hair look like k.d. Lang; I wonder if we're a thing people realize they can look like.
LD: Also, I think being affectionate on stage has been really fun and sweet, and it exhibits behavior that I think is healthy and good. That's another element of it that I think is good to show kids, the way that I think drag is actively good for kids to interact with, because it's this fun way to interact with gender and to explain things like that early to children is really awesome. Just being able to gaily and affectionately kiss your bros, that's a principle that I value, that I wish was more valued for kids. Not saying like, kids gotta go all make out!
I'm proud of the space we're taking up. I think we're using it in ways I'll be able to stand behind when I get older.
PB: There's also such a deep, both fetishizing and desexualizing of lesbians, in a way that I think is ridiculous. Obviously MUNA is standing staunchly against that as well, by being a f*cking boyband. It's just fun to be like, it's not that serious — and it also is deeply meaningful.
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knocktherock · 1 year
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on our way (chapter 1)
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A/n: my first enemies to lovers, I hope you like it. It’s gonna be a whole story.
Warnings: guns, death
Pairing: Joel miller x fem!reader
Ill also be posting this on my Ao3; Flugkind
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You have been roaming the ruins of the past society for years now. There had been times you were living with a group, but most of them either got split up or killed. So you started to avoid any group that had crossed your path ever since. You are pretty sure you can take onto this devastated world on your own, you know that you can trust your body and soul, you know your strengths and weaknesses.
you are currently strolling through a small town, supplies have been low for a few weeks now, you had your last actual meal months ago. Your stomach grumbles and growls every time you pass an old restaurant. Images of when times were still okay, when you were able to stroll through crowded streets and go out to eat with your friends flood your mind whenever you see an old KFC sign.
Shops have been scavenged long before you arrived there. The only thing you had found up until now was a can of peaches and corn. You are starting to worry about how much longer you could last with such little supplies.
You are walking through a gas station, the scrunchy leaves below your feet is the only sound around, which is why you keep your gun on your hip.
The inside of the station was pretty roughed up. Windows shattered, newspapers decorating the floor, pieces of glass hiding below brown leaves. You step behind the counter and crouch down to shuffle through the cupboards. There is a roll of tape, a very useful thing in times like these.
quickly, you stuff it into your gray backpack.
As you stand up, you're taken aback to find a little girl with brown hair staring directly at you, a gun trained on your position.
„Joel!“ her voice matches her young looks. You would guess her to be between the age of thirteen and fifteen.
Your veins are frozen with fear. Even though it is just a teenager standing across from you, there has to be a man around and there is a gun in your face.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a man with tousled dark hair, a stern expression, and a peppered beard, adding to his overall disheveled appearance.
„Hands up“ the girl orders, you could tell that she is trying to seem tougher than she actually is, her slightly shaking hand is giving it away.
As you slowly lift your hands above your head, the man steps around the counter towards you. He has already eyed the gun in the front of your pants so he takes it, then pets you down to make sure that there are no other weapons on you.
You dont know if they are an actual threat because they seem more like a father-daughter duo roaming the wasteland.
„Hi“ is the only thing coming out of your mouth, which you immediately regret. hi? Really?
You study the mans face. Honey eyes are fixed on you as he stuffs your gun in his belt. The brown jacket he is wearing has dark, dried blood splatters across it. An uneasy feeling creeps up your neck and anxiety builds in your belly.
„Lower the gun, Ellie“ His voice is deep and monotone.
so its Ellie and Joel… neither of the two seem to know what to do next, so you try to introduce yourself.
„I’m y/n, I dont mean any harm. Just trying to get by, you know?“ you are trying to calm their nerves the best you can, you do not need trouble right now. Especially with the man in front of you, who doesn’t look like the nicest fella. Ellie has lowered the gun by this point.
„we are too“ Ellie nods as her eyes scan over you.
„Are you two hungry?“ you say even though you know what their answer would be, everyone out here is hungry.
„I have two cans of food with me, we could share“ your hands still up besides your head, you slowly try to lower them to reach for your backpack but Joel stops you immediately.
„Not so fast, kid“ he mutters and reaches for your backpack himself, he shuffles around in it and grabs the two cans you found earlier. Ellie makes herself comfortable at a small table nearby the shattered window, her gun is still resting on her thigh to intimidate you.
Joel tosses the peaches to her and opens the can of corn with his knife, his strong hands make it look like the knife is cutting through butter instead of metal. He stares at you with an unreadable look in his eyes before nodding to the chair across from Ellie.
„sit“ Although the demanding voice sends shivers down your spine, it also aggravates you; you don't appreciate being told what to do.
Though you resent having to comply with his demand, you do so anyway, acknowledging that you have no other options. The thought of running flits through your mind, but you don't feel compelled to do so just yet.
Joel puts the can on the table in front of you and you three start digging in with your fingers, nobody would be carrying forks around with them during the apocalypse so you’re used to eating with just your hands.
The cans are empty after a few minutes, the peach juices have dripped all over your hands and the table.
Ellie licks them off her palm and sucks her fingers clean with loud plopping noises. There is barely any conversation, so you make the first step.
„So where are you headed?“ you direct the question at Ellie because she seems to be the more friendly one of this duo
„back to our com-“
„Ellie“ Joel immediately interrupts her and shoots her a dirty look.
„What? Does she seem like a savage killer to you?“ she raises her eyebrow at him, you can tell she has the typical teenage sass in her.
„do you have a group or anything?“ she asks you with a small smile on her lips.
„No, Ive been on my own for a long time now“ you admit with a shrug, glancing over to Joel who is leaning against the counter.
„I think its time for you to go now.“ he mutters, the expression on his face hadn’t changed a slight bit since you first laid eyes on the man. A cold and calculating stare with eyes that look like they’ve never had a genuine smile reach them.
he has a kid with him, while you are a stranger. How could he be certain that you don’t pose a threat? You could easily be leading them into a trap.
Considering this you nod understandingly.
„It was nice seeing someone after a while of only runners and clickers.“ you smile halfheartedly at Ellie. The idea of having some companionship, even for a brief time, was appealing as it would have meant not having to be constantly vigilant.
You get up and grab your backpack of the ground, your glance travels up the legs of Joel who is standing only a few feet away from you. His thick thighs fit perfectly in the dark blue jeans he is wearing.
As you straighten up, you get to take one last glance at the rough features of his face before saying a final goodbye to Ellie and heading back outside.
You are now a couple hundred feet away when you hear two gunshots cutting through the silence. All of your senses immediately go on high alert as you turn back towards the gas station you just left minutes ago.
You do not know if the gunshots came from that direction, but your legs moved before you could even think about it.
Your tired and strained muscles carry you back to the building quickly but you know better than to just barge in there, you have to be quiet and slow, evaluate the situation before jumping into action.
Recalling the entrance Joel had used, you decide to quietly slip towards the building's rear door.
You round two corners before you can make out voices, there are more than two men talking, but you cant tell if one of them is Joel, because well he didn’t talk to you much.
Your hand only finds an empty space on your belt where your gun is supposed to be and you remember that Joel took it.
Fuck
What are your options now? Jump into the unknown behind this wall?
Or maybe you should just leave, they can probably handle it themselves. Thinking about it for a second, you picture the young girl who was clearly not confident in using her gun.
Ignoring the potential danger, you glance over and witness Joel lying on the ground, with a stranger pinning him down with his boot and pointing a gun at him from above. You cant make out where Ellie is, but if Joel is on the ground she probably is as well.
Another man is standing behind the counter, both strangers have their backs turned towards you, which means you could have the upper hand if you had your gun, but you dont, the strangers do.
As you take a look around to find some kind of weapon you can hear one of them talk.
„There were three of them I swear“
if you weren’t sweating before, you are definitely now.
They know you are here.
They will come looking for you any second.
Eyes moving frantically, you check again for anything that can help you right now. Unfortunately the only thing catching your attention is a broom. Not your first choice, but as good as it gets.
Footsteps approach your current location slowly.
Pat. Pat. Pat
Sweat makes it hard to have a steady grip on the broom, your breath is uneven, fear ripples through your nerves like the ominous rumble of thunder before a storm.
You level the end of the broom with your head and wait for someone to walk through the door. As you see a forehead peak past the wooden doorway, you bash the end of the broomstick forward and into the temple of the man.
He groans, falls to his knees and then face forward onto the ground. The force of your strike was enough to knock him out.
You grab the mans gun from the side of his body and step out into the open.
Since the other man is already aware of you, there's little use in trying to conceal yourself.
With a raised gun, you spot the man above Joel staring back at you.
The scene is etched into your mind's eye, like a permanent tattoo on your soul, as you shoot him down. The bullet rips through his chest, he gives of a gurgling sound as he falls backwards.
His legs keep jerking for a few seconds while he bleeds out on the floor.
Joel is quickly up on his feet and turns towards you with confusion written all over his face, then a little head pops up behind the counter, Ellie.
„That was savage!“ As if unable to contain her excitement, she jumps into the air twice, her exclamation ringing out loud and clear.
Joel on the other hand has a mixture of shock and anger on his face, as if he can’t comprehend that you are capable of the thing that just happened.
„We had it sorted.“ His muttered words are accompanied by a piercing stare that seems to penetrate your soul.
Why was he still acting like a dick?
„A thank you would’ve been cool“ You tilt your head in puzzlement, but the slow burn of anger is unmistakable as it begins to take hold within you.
Joel huffs and turns to Ellie „are you alright“
She nods and focuses back on you „thanks, y/n“ she smiles genuinely at you.
A smile spreads across your face as you lock eyes with her, sensing an immediate connection. You feel a sense of responsibility to shield her from harm and take on the role of a big sister.
„We’ve got to get going“ Joel exclaims as he shuffles through the pockets of the dead man in front of him, looking for useful things.
„She can come with us.“ Ellie says and looks at him then back at you.
„No“ short and simple. He rises to his feet, giving her a cold look. „I don't need the added responsibility of another kid. She can clearly manage on her own.“
After a heated argument with Ellie and some convincing on your part, he finally relents and allows you to join them. You need someone, you need a home. And they are heading to a town or whatever, which was perfect.
„I will stay out of your hair after we get there, alright.“ Even though you risked your own life to save his, you can feel the tension between the two of you and know that he doesn't appreciate your help.
You only get a simple nod and an „I fucking hope so“ back.
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somegiantmess · 5 months
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Sometimes I tell myself that I may be a bit obsessed with planes. With the consequences planes have on climate, I mean.
And so I was trying to pinpoint the reasons why. Here’s my trail of thoughts.
As said in the introduction of this study, aviation is one of the most energy-intense forms of consumption.
Let’s take a round trip between Paris and New York. The distance between them is about 11,700 km (7,270 miles). The average time to do that seems to be 7 hours and 50 minutes, twice, so about 15 hours and 40 minutes. Let’s round it up to 16h.
The amount of CO2 that’s directly emitted through the combustion of kerosene for this round trip? About 2 tons. Not for the entire plane okay, just for yourself (which is obtained by dividing the emissions of the plane by the number of passengers).
Let’s compare with other ways of emitting 2 tons:
by watching streaming videos, you would need about 30,000 hours
by car, you’d need to drive about 10,000 km. Can’t really give a time for that but, in France at least, this is the distance an average person does over one year.
by eating red meat once a day over 275 days. Or ~3900 vegetarian meals (more than five years of meals if you eat vegetarian all the time).
2 tons is also the carbon footprint one human should stay below, per year, by 2050, to reach carbon neutrality and not warm the Earth beyond 1,5°C (compared to pre-industrial era; that’s the goal from from the Paris Agreement). It should also be 5 tons by 2030 already.* (Those deadlines don’t mean that it’s fine to emit to the levels we do today. Every ton of greenhouse gas counts and warms the climate.)
So, just for a 16 hours flight you’ve reached those 2 tons. Your carbon budget is closed. But you still have the rest of the year to live. Today there is no way you can live one full year without emitting greenhouse gases directly or indirectly.
So that was the first point. Now some other things:
Flying is a privilege to a minority of people. The fact that we’ve had ~4.5 billions of plane passengers in 2018 doesn’t mean that they were different passengers each time. That year, only 11% of humanity took the plane, including 2% to 4% that flew internationally (see the study linked above).
The injustice is even bigger when you think that 1% of humanity is responsible for about 50% of aviation emissions (note: the people that are less responsible for climate change are also the ones to deal with its worst consequences, aka people from poorer countries)
Unless you have close family members who live somewhere that requires long flights to go, simple breaks and personal holidays can happen in places closer to where we live. IF we really want to go somewhere. Being able to take the plane to discover a new country for personal enjoyment once a year and more isn’t something vital, it’s a comfort and a privilege**. Again, good times can happen in closer places around us.
So around summer and some other holidays, I often find myself hearing people talking about the plane and fly on a regular basis as if it was a normal, common thing. And often times I like those people/coworkers. And I think that overall it’s not like they don’t care about climate change or other environmental issues. I think they’re earnest and even believe that they’re already doing well for the environment by, for instance, sorting their waste in their daily life. Except they probably don’t realize that the plane’s impact is so harmful that the positive impact that was gained through their waste sorting is completely wiped out. By a lot. What I see is that once you’ve taken the habit of regular flights, and as long as you have the money for that, it’s difficult to see and accept that it should be seriously questioned.
Those are the main reasons for my obsession out of my head. Thank you for reading. :)
-
*Note that the average carbon footprint of a French person is 10 tons/year and about 20 tons/year for a North American person. You can check this source for comparisons and see the numbers for any country. But be aware that the numbers are lower because only the CO2 is counted, and not the other greenhouse gases. When counting for all GHG and converting them in CO2 equivalent, France should be above China, and the USA should be above Belgium for instance. It also seems that international aviation isn't counted because of attribution difficulty.
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**When I was a teen I used to dream of traveling everywhere and visiting as many places as possible. Questioning that may feel like a slap to some of us, but some desires can definitely change over time, especially with a broader view of what they imply. I had the huge luck to travel to Japan three times in my life. It was amazing, but I’ve decided that it was enough. It's hard at first. And I can be nostalgic, but most of the time now I’m fine about it. I know that I still have a lot of possibilities even without that, and my desires have become simpler but still fulfilling.
Q&A:
- Clean plane is coming! -> See point 2/ in this paragraph - The plane will leave whether I’m in or not -> See point 3/ in this paragraph - I’m just an individual, it won't change anything -> Do you use your voting right for elections? Yes? Well, you’re only one voice, right? But you still do it. (Bonus; read only the "last word" at the end if you want.) - What about private air travels? -> They’re definitely a problem, both from a greenhouse gases and justice perspective, and they should be reduced to the lowest. But changes must happen everywhere, and about 70% of the fuel used by aviation is estimated to come from commercial flights transporting people.
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WIP ask game again!! “xcomau Pac & Mike illegally and traumatically obtain their first (and only) legal job circa a year after "leaving" prison” illegal and traumatic job acquisition my beloved. what are the boys getting up to?
hehehehehe thank you curly for asking the thing I was baiting you to ask me even if you've already seen the WIP <3
This is a fic in which the boys have a terrible time! They are mostly getting up to crimes! Crimes including theft. And grievous bodily harm. You know. The usual. But they only escaped prison a few months ago, and they'd reeeeally like to stay low enough profile to not get arrested again, you know?
And I'll put the rest of the ramble and also a snippet under the cut so people can like judge for themselves spoilers. But then again it's backstory fic so spoilers basically is meaningless woo!
So. Pac and Mike are homeless, doing their thing, living low profile in an abandoned warehouse at the docks. As they do. They're not *healthy*, but they're getting by. Pac's shitty prosthetic badly needs replacing, Mike has plans, but no materials or workshop, you know all their usual problems. For sake of being warm and also their natural curiosity, they get fake student IDs just good enough to trick the electronic door locks and hand out in the uni library with so many science books, and make use of their showers (they found some old thrown out ones and via more traditional breaking and enterting got them reactivated). When feeling rich the laundrette. You know, that sort of thing.
And then shit happens. Shit here means aliens. Aliens first drop a device spewing a gas designed to knock people out (the aliens need you alive), so they can then inject people with a poison that causes them to become hosts to new aliens, which hatch when you die (this poison *is* fatal if untreated in most cases, unlike the knock out gas which is only fatal if you're unlucky or get overdosed - the babies need enough poison in enough of your body so your heart still needs to be beating for a good few minutes. As an aside, later on they just chase down and infect people, early on it's knock out first for larger numbers. Also some cities get zombie gas instead. Second aside! Obviously very young and old and people with lung conditions or heart conditions tend to die from the knockout gas anyway, but so do avians - bird people in this AU *usually* have a weakness to airborn toxins).
Pac and Mike are chilling in their abandoned warehouse when this goes down, get close enough to see, and then decide to fuck off. When the gas reaches them - it's a gas it spreads - the aliens needing hosts are already clambering around and Pac and Mike don't know what they are, but they do see them stabbing people. Realising they won't be conscious long, they duck into a building and hide. In the process Mike is injured, and ends up with a small - but non fatal and without eggs as it was just a scrape not a full injection - of the alien toxin.
They pass out while hiding, expecting to die and Mike having horrible symptoms. Pac, however, gets woken up by some cops, sent now the aliens are cleared out to collect bodies and assess damages and all. Everyone is a bit surprised by the alive - most people this close to the epicenter got eaten because yk they tried to run like *sensible* but also they were being herded to their deaths by aliens with decades of understanding of human psychology. But also why bother chasing these two when more over there?
Pac panics, give some of the fake IDs which actually hold up to scrutiny, and weaves a sob story about getting fired from his uni research position when he lost his leg due to unsafe equipment, and Mike quit in solidarity, and they've been struggling since. He's absolutely a biochemistry lecturer he promises. Makes some rambles about the poisons himself. (also would have stabbed them if he thought he could take both) (He does *not* tell the cops about Mike getting scratched, but does later tell the paramedic)
Like the cops don't actually care, but get them both to medical attention. Mike does eventually wake up, still having a bad time as poison nobody has really had a chance to study - but it is a thankfully lower does. The two of them try and treat it themselves as the doctors don't know so they're just trying whatever to help the symptoms, and do manage to stumble into something which... doesn't cure it entirely, but gets the poisoning under control enough his liver can deal with it. Or, more to the point, gets other symptoms under control.
This draws attention. TBH, their IDs and Pac's sob story and rambles about gas drew attention.
It's not the cops who come over, it's the military officials ringleading the operation. Pac and Mike - in their fake names - are sworn to secrecy, then invited to a new initiative - a legally not military but rather side governmental department with a specialised combat force to deal with the alien forces. And the officials are... well to the officials these are two homeless, desperate, and bright scientists. It does not take much carrot to get them. Can underpay them massively and still get the research done, unlike stealing an actual uni person.
Pac and Mike are desperate, yes, but resist for a bit. They're put up in a hotel once well enough, and are noticibly treated better than the others. They know it's bait. They know it's fucking bait.
... Their warehouse is destroyed and they were struggling for food anyway and this is likely to happen again and they're *tired*. They know its bait, they know its dangerous, they *know* they won't be treatde this well once they say yes.
But they do it anyway.
As you can see this is a logn fucking fic and I hate writing longfics hence it still being in the WIP folder lmao.
Here have the end of Pac lieing to cops to get what he needs from them.
It's as the cops glance at one another that Pac realises that that is not information most people would know. He and Mike do - similar chemicals are common in less ethical security systems - but…
Fuck, fuck he's being looked at now. Mike's still out of it, and he himself is still not all there. How can he…
"Sorry, er, sorry. I'm-" fuck what was the name on that id. Doesn't matter. "Department of biochem. Used to be. But…" he gestures at his leg. "Didn't have lifts, and still can't walk somedays. Mikey quit with me when they couldn't guarantee ground floor labs."
It doesn't seem to make the two any less curious, though something in their expressions shifts.
"We've got a medical post set up nearby," the woman says. "We can escort you-"
"I'm not leaving Mike," Pac cuts across her, the one thing that really matters. He says it, clings to Mike's sleeve, breathes a moment. Still here. Still here. Mike is still here. "And, I don't… I just woke up from it. I don't think i can stand."
His eyes flitter between the pair.
"We can carry you to the truck downstairs. One of the medics will take you from there," the gentleman says.
He doesn't trust it. Pac does not trust it. It's easy - too easy. THis pair wear police uniforms. They don't know who he is, the fake ID exists in the government databases, but it's too fucking easy. They shouldn't, he shouldn't… Are they recognised? Do they realise? He can't… What if they hurt Mike while he can't defend himself? You beat people if you catch them running, right?
It's risky, so risky, if he could just… Just pick Mike up, then they could run. Avoid these cops, and disappear back into the now ruined city.
But… his body is still riddled with pain, and breathing is still a struggle, and Mike probably needs actual medical attention. He… shouldn't stop breathing. If the paralytic was going to take his lungs, it would have already. But… if it does… its a weird one. It might. And if it does, he needs a hospital. Needs help until his liver breaks all the poison down. Pac… its a weird poison. They should probably both be near help, just in case. The full symptoms aren't known. With how quickly they set in if they aren't dead yet it's not likely, but with so many unknowns… They should try be near a doctor.
It's just…
They can escape again. If they need to, they can escape again.
Still torn, but desperate and with Mike unable to help form a decision, Pac nods. The woman helps him up, while he watches the man scoop Mike into his arms. He's gentle enough, though, even careful with his spine; the only grounds that Pac can find to object is the screaming desperation to have his soulmate in his arms.
It's hard, staying conscious with the poisons inside his body.
He makes it half way down the first flight of stairs before his legs crumple, and the woman swings him into her arms.
He makes it to seeing Mike placed next to him in the truck before he passes out again.
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Suptober 5 Oct.: A perfect disaster
"I didn't," Cas started. He smiled at Jack smiling at him from behind his soft little hands. "I didn't mean to imply you would've let anything happen to him."
deancas ust, s13 au
"...And the addition of bleach created a perfect disaster," the newscaster was saying as Cas steered slowly into the bunker garage. "A cloud of chloramine gas filled the girls' locker room…"
Cas turned off the radio as he parked. He knew all about mixing cleaning supplies inappropriately from his days at the Gas-N-Sip. Chores in the bunker involved a lot of white vinegar and lemon oil thanks to Sam's insistence on more sustainable, less toxic options. Cas didn't mind mopping floors, personally, but usually only used water, since soap residue attracted more dirt. Occasionally he'd had to resort to something stronger; it seemed prudent to use germ-killing detergents to remove actual blood stains.
Since he'd been brought back to life by Jack five months ago, he hadn't once had a reason to bring out the floor cleaner with the bald man on the bottle. That felt like its own win. He also liked grocery shopping, especially at the large, colorful store a few towns away, and putting food up in the various cabinets and drawers in the kitchen. It was a peaceful task, quieter today save the slight ticking the oven made as it cycled. There seemed to be something in there, and a dirtied mixing bowl and utensils in the sink, but no one was hanging around as Dean usually did when cooking.
Realizing that made the hairs on the back of Cas's neck stand up. 
He left the last two bags of canned goods on the kitchen counter and went looking for his friends. No one in the library, no one in the dungeon. No one had arrived in the garage after him. Neither Dean, Jack, nor Sam was in their respective bedrooms. Cas pulled his phone out of his pocket as he entered his own bedroom, and paused, hearing two separate noises: footfall racing towards him, and a scritching, scratching coming from the other side of the chest of drawers.
"Wait!" Dean called out, overtop Sam yelling, "Let us explain," and Rowena – who Cas was entirely not expecting – much more calmly saying, "Tsk, such a lot of bother," the three of them reaching Cas's doorway just as he'd knelt to greet the visitor in his room.
The two or three year old boy uncovered his eyes and popped up from his squatting position. "Boo!" he said to Cas cheerfully, and then dove back under what seemed to be the white top sheet off of Cas's bed. The child giggled and giggled and crept closer to Cas until he bumped into him. 
Giggling intensified as the little boy squirmed into Cas's arms. Cas pulled the sheet down from the child's face again as he stood up and turned to the other three.
"What happened?" Cas tried to ask in a non-threatening voice. His eyes blazed white-blue for just a moment, though.
Sam swallowed and said, "So we were testing out a new idea–" And Dean said, "About vamp nest removals, apparently." Rowena chimed in, "It's a perfectly stable magic under the right circumstances."
"Which would be what, exactly," Cas said. The toddler he held was patting his face gently. "Hello, Jack." 
Jack beamed.
"You left him in the bunker alone?" Cas asked, addressing Dean because he'd believed Dean had been doing a lot better about Jack in the last few weeks. And he'd also always felt Dean was very good with young children; an unsecured, naked nephilim baby in a bedsheet did not seem like the result of thoughtful decision making.
"We didn't mean to," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. "We were all outside on the hill 'cause that's the last place he'd, whatever, flown himself to–"
With a helpful smile, Rowena supplied, "The spell…jumped around more than I had anticipated."
"There was a lot of purple smoke," Dean muttered. "In case you missed that coming in."
"Are you insinuating this is my fault for having gone to the grocery?" Cas huffed at him. "You said we needed macaroni. I didn't know as soon as I left you'd decide to transform Jack into a preschooler."
"Guys," Sam said, ever the referee with one hand on Dean's shoulder and the other on Cas's. 
To Cas he said, "Rowena and I were working on the spell, and Jack was just observing."
"Yeah, and I'd been minding my own business in the kitchen, making a casserole," Dean said, a peevish look on his face.
"Is that what I'm smelling?" Sam asked out of the corner of his mouth.
"Shit," Dean said, and fled down the hall.
"Shit," Jack repeated in the tiniest voice, while clapping his tiny hands together. 
"Dearie, you need'n't worry about a thing," Rowena said, wearing an earnest expression as she rubbed her hand up and down Cas's arm while Sam watched, mouth pinched. "Samuel and I will take care of this…incident in the next few minutes, and all will be well. Stay with the lad and we'll call you when we're ready for you."
Her smile was only slightly insincere as she swept from the room. Cas took her at her word, but he gave Sam a stern look as they left. Sam grimaced with all his teeth and rushed to catch up with Rowena.
"Hi," Jack said, in his tiny sweet voice, patting Cas again. 
It felt entirely right to be holding a young child with Jack's eyes. Cas let himself acknowledge that for a minute, before walking them both to the kitchen.
Dean eyed them as Cas sat down at the table and arranged Jack, and Jack's ghost costume, on his knee. Jack waved to Dean and Dean, to his credit, waved back, a tenderness around his eyes Cas was surprised to see.
Dean saw Cas watching and cleared his throat. "So, uh. I guess this is what you expected to find when you– Well, not this, but when Kelly– I'm just saying: he was supposed to be born a baby. Which. That's what you'd been planning for. Back then." He picked up a giant spoon and put it back down, as though he didn't know what to do with himself. A casserole with a dark brown topping sat on the counter steaming.
"I didn't," Cas started. He smiled at Jack smiling at him from behind his soft little hands. "I didn't mean to imply you would've let anything happen to him."
"Yeah, well. Probably shouldn't give me that much credit." Dean set to putting away the last of the groceries.
Cas held Jack and felt many impossible, incongruous things all at the same time.
As Dean wiped down the counter, Jack rubbed at his right eye with one hand. A sign of sleepiness in young children: Cas had read all about it. It was important to honor such signs if you didn't want your child to become grumpy, especially your child who could teleport. He was about to suggest Jack should lie down; Jack chose to climb up and put his arms around Cas's neck and his small head on Cas's shoulder.
Cas rubbed Jack's sheet-covered back and tried not to think about how much he'd missed this – ridiculously, since he'd never even experienced it to begin with. He looked up to see Dean watching them, something wistful in his face that broke Cas's heart for some reason.
"So, Rowena's ready to execute the plan," Sam said from the doorway. 
"Good," Dean said after a moment, still looking at Cas. "Good."
Cas stood up. Jack was fast asleep in his arms.
An hour or so later, most of the second round of purple smoke had dissipated from the study room and Jack was once again grown and wearing his grown-up clothes. He didn't seem particularly perturbed by anything that had happened, and was helping himself to another serving of Dean's million dollar chicken casserole. Rowena looked as disheveled as Cas had ever seen her – the sleeve of her gown had an impressive scorch mark on it – but she was otherwise delighted by the outcome. Sam just looked relieved and exhausted and poured himself and Rowena a third shot of bourbon.
Jack asked Rowena about incantations for gardening. Rowena, surprisingly, seemed more than happy to discuss the propagation of magical plants, Sam interrupting every so often with questions about various herbs they frequently used as hunters. It was interesting, but Cas felt more tired than he normally tended to be and quietly took his leave, patting Jack's shoulder as he slipped past.
Jack squeezed his arm, briefly, and let go.
Cas was re-making his bed when Dean knocked on the doorframe.
"You up for company?" Dean asked, leaning inside to hand Cas a bottle of cold beer. He glanced at his feet for a second and then at Cas. Tentative. 
Cas wanted to be enveloped in him, or wrap him up tight. Either. Both. He let the ache sit in his chest for a few beats.
He nodded. 
Dean stepped inside and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "I, uh. I never really thought about." He took a drink of his own beer. "What you'd have been like. With a baby."
Cas sat down beside him. "You think I would've done such a bad job?" He hated sounding so…needy.
"No." Dean waited until Cas looked at him. "You'd've made mistakes, 'cause that's how it goes. But, no, you'd have been great at it. Seriously, Cas."
"Thank you." Cas scratched at the bottle label with his thumbnail. The ache hadn't gone away and there wasn't anything he could do about it but live with it the way he had been for years now – well, except for the months he'd actually been dead, but those didn't count. 
The disorientation of Jack being a walking, talking, young adult caused its own, replenishing ache. Cas, having experience with the first, understood he could withstand the second. "I still think Jack is going to do tremendous things for this world. Maybe sooner than I'd originally expected. So."
If Dean still disagreed, he kept it to himself. He pressed his shoulder to Cas's and smiled, looking down.
"Wanna watch a movie with me?" Cas asked. 
"Always," Dean said.
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The Saga of Billy Boy Part 8 - The Consideration
Frank has been kicked out of his home with nowhere to go. Will wants to offer their spare room as a place to stay while Frank figures things out, but does Clay agree? If you need it, here is a masterpost with links to all parts of TSOBB.
- - - - -
I arrived at the Subway just before noon. As I parked, I saw Clay’s car. I entered and saw him waiting at the end of the line. “Hey, babe.” I greeted him with a kiss. We got our subs and found a table to eat at. 
Clay started the conversation as he finished the first bite of his sub. “So, you mentioned Frank is having some problem?” 
I set down my sandwich. “Yeah, apparently he got into a big fight with his sister, and she kicked him out.” I explained. 
“Oh, shit! Does he know what he’s going to do?” Clay replied, shocked.
“He said he has some college friends that he could couch surf with while he finds his own place…” I trailed off. I paused before getting to the point. “Honestly, I thought it sounded awful. To do that on top of school, work, and finding an apartment, he’d be miserable. And I thought of our cot…” Clay’s chewing slowed as he realized where I was going with this. “This isn’t something I’d propose for just anyone. But you’ve known him a long time. I figured it wouldn’t take him more than a couple of weeks to find an apartment, so maybe we could let him stay on the cot..?” I looked over at Clay to see how he reacted. 
Clay took a big bite of his sub and chewed on it thoroughly as his face appeared pensive. Finally, he swallowed and replied, “That sounds like an awful situation for Frank. I don’t think it’s too big of an ask to let him stay with us while he figures everything out.” He answered with that beautiful smile spread across his face. 
“I’m glad you agree.” I smiled back at him. “And it’s not like we’ll be fooling around all the time or anything…” I started. “I know that, Willy. I never would’ve worried about something like that.” Clay reached over and grabbed my hand. “But that also doesn’t mean you can’t fool around sometimes.” He winked at me. 
I blushed as I grabbed his hand as well and looked into his shining eyes. I couldn’t help but think I’d never stop being amazed I was with such an amazing guy. 
However, inviting this man into our home started the chain of events that would make me look at Clay like I’d never imagined. 
- - - - -
I returned to the office after lunch to find Frank finishing his lunch at his desk. One of the reasons he was able to get so much done was that he usually worked through lunch. I had already spent a number of entire lunch breaks “chatting” with Bomber. I smiled at Frank as I entered. He answered by setting his desk to a standing position. “Bomber wants to hear all about your lunch with Clay.” Frank teased, pressing his ass out as he stood up. 
“I’d love to have our afternoon break, but there’s something I wanted to talk to you about first.” I said. “I told Clay about your situation, and we wanted to offer some help.” Frank formed a curious look on his face, letting me continue. “Since your options of places to sleep while you find an apartment sound… Well frankly shitty, I wanted to offer an option that may be a little better. We have an extra bedroom in our apartment with a cot. It’s not very big, but I thought that might be better than a couch or some dorm floor.” I gave Frank a smile. 
Frank stared back at me, stunned by the offer. “I… I don’t know what to say.” He scratched his chin as he thought about it. “Clay wouldn’t feel weird about seeing your face up my ass?” 
“I mean we would have some boundaries on all that.” I responded. “I wouldn’t always be sniffing up your gas.” 
“Oh duh!” Frank playfully smacked his forehead. “I’ve gotten so used to farting on you whenever I want. I can absolutely adjust though. Bomber sure will miss you.” Frank winked. 
I blushed. “So, is that a yes? Would you like to stay with us while you figure out what to do?”
Frank smiled, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Absolutely. Our relationship aside, Clay is one of my favorite clients. I’ve been trying to encourage him to expand his training plan to include nutrition. With this gift from the two of you, I’ll give him two months of the expansion for no charge!” He paused, as he put a hand on his stomach. “Now that you’ve shared the big news, Bomber is dying to tell you how excited he is to be living with you.” Frank teased, wiggling his hips. 
I answered him by getting on my knees and pushing my face into his ass. Frank placed his hand on the back of my neck. Rather than his typical shove into his ass, he caressed me lovingly. He grunted and a slow rumble came out of Bomber. I sniffed deeply to get as much of it as possible. “Bomber can’t wait to talk to you all day at work and then even more at home.” Another brassy fart blasted my face. “Bomber is so happy you’re taking this relationship to the next level.” 
I thought the way Frank was speaking was a little bizarre. He’d only be staying there a couple of weeks max. But the idea of spending all my time with my face snuggled up with Bomber had me hard as hell, so I let the concern drift away as I continued to sniff Frank’s farts. 
I spent the next several hours sniffing up every word Bomber had to say. Frank teased me about how many different ways I’d get to sniff his farts now that he’d be staying with me. I felt on the edge of climaxing all day just from his gas and teasing. At 4, I remembered I still had quite a bit I needed to do before I left for the day. I realized I would have to work late. 
“I guess Clay may be the only one there to help you move in…” I realized aloud. 
“I have to go grocery shopping to get some food for Clay’s new diet. I’ll probably get there around the same time as you anyways.” Frank explained. 
I sighed a breath of relief. I knew Frank and Clay spent plenty of time alone, but something about Frank seeing the apartment with only Clay made me uncomfortable. I couldn’t quite place why. Probably the random nightmares I have about Frank fucking Clay. 
“Okay, I’ll let you both know when I’m finishing up here.” I replied. 
“Sounds perfect, roomie.” Frank teased with a wink. He never stopped talking like he was moving in for good. Once he was moved in, Frank had no intention of ever leaving.
- - - - -
Frank spends his first night at Will's apartment in Part 9 - The Move-In here!
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thequietmanno1 · 7 months
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Thelreads, MHA 279, Replies Part 1
“And the first trap is set, quicksan- I mean, quickmud to try to slow that mountain down. hopefully it will work.
hopefully.”- Ironically, despite Machia’s normal ability to ‘swim’ through land easily, this actually turns out to be the greatest trap against him, thanks to him having the additional handicap of needing to protect lives rather than destroy them for once, meaning he can’t submerge his back underground without risking the league and has to keep himself on a level surface with extra effort. Much as the League chip in to trip up his antagonisers, they’re a massive weakness for Machia at the moment that prevents him from fighting as freely as he otherwise could 2) “You know what that means… that was a high-oxygen flame source, or they are burning copper, chloride and butane. God knows what those maniacs are welding up there.”- If “High-Oxygen” means “full of hot air”, then I’d say that describes Dabi to a T, both literally and metaphorically. For all he’ll spout off long-winded monologues to buy enough time for a cooldown, the actual substance of what he’s saying is empty and meaningless if given proper scrutiny – it’s just there to tear at his opponent’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities, without actually being anything Dabi himself truly believes in. You can see his insincere double-standard with how he sounded upset at Twice’s death, but had that big- o’l grin on his face in actuality, putting up a performance that couldn’t really hide how he felt inside at witnessing Hawks’ mental anguish over what he’d had to do. 3) “Also, it is suspicious that I haven’t seen Hagakure getting ready to face Gigantomachia… I think she may be planning something, she probably is going to give away their position.”- She’s incredibly fluent in sign language, you know. She’ll probably signal to Machia through waving her arms at a distance. 4) “Only 30? for someone of his size and constitution? I want to see those calculations, because either you’re severely low-balling the amount, or this is a strong-as-fuck sedative, the sort that could’ve stopped a gorilla quickly and prevented May 28, 2016.”- (Looks at Momo dropping the backup explosives)….don’t make a joke about her dynamite chest, don’t make a joke about her dynamite chest, don’t make a- 5) “I mean, there’s also the fact his skin is likely harder than stone? That’s also a point to consider… but yeah, oral, I thought we would try nasal, but I don’t remember which kind acts faster, plus that a gas would expose the students as well and wouldn’t be as easy to give”-  Even if a prime All Might could make Machia stagger a bit with a punch, I’m uncertain if he could actually break his rocky exterior. He’s shake about his insides with the blunt force, but I think it would take multiple full-power hits to actually pierce through and make him bleed- and as far as we know, there’s no technology in the world fully capable of yet reaching the insane level of force OFA had granted All Might by his heyday. Certainly none available to the kids right now, even with Momo in their corner. 6) “okay jesus momo that is not an anesthetic then, that shit is pretty much poison”- (Looks at Machia bearing down on them)…I honestly doubt anybody would blame the kids for going overboard with the dosage and potentially lethally poisoning this guy in the line of duty. Frankly, I think it’d have to be that strong just to maybe affect him, and may possibly even need every kid to chuck their vials into his mouth all together, not just a single dose. 7) “walking mountain goes nyooon~
Hang in there Mt. Lady, your death is still coming, we still need a student to talk about you as well.”-  It’s honestly quite terrifying that, even with her best effort and Machia never having been saddled with this kind of obstacle before, it’s hard to tell if she’s even remotely succeeded in slowing his charge at all. 8) “I think if he loosens his grip even i tiny fraction you two are gonna be yanked the fuck out by the earth itself. Better not risk it Mt. lady.”- Well, he had to let go, otherwise they’d have both been drowned by the earth instead. 9) “Gigantomachia is Gigantamagone now suckers”-  Oh yes, gone….straight downwards that is, and for once, not of his own volition. 10) “HA HA! YOU FELL INTO THEIR TRAP, YOU FOOL! YOU BUFFOON!
Now open wide, here comes the airplane~ “- Machia’s due for his daily medicine, and the doctors are really insistent about him taking them regularly. 11) “Aw- look at that, he is so sad he sank into the mud ): “- Machia only wants to be helpful to others….shame it’s to a psychotic villain who wants to destroy the world, and Machia only wants to be helpful to him alone, otherwise it’d almost be admirable. 12) “Now Machia, be a good boy and say Aaahhhh~
wait what happened to Mt. Lady and kamui? Did they sank as well? Holy shit I wasn’t expecting them to die so gruesomely.”-  Mt Lady almost certainly spent a few seconds removing Kamui from the Quagmire they were both sucked into and making sure he was alive and breathing before trying to ride the Machia, hence why the kids have to try and deal with him solo for that brief window. 13) “Don’t be like that Machia, just eat this and you can get ice cream later, alright?”- “A spoonful of sugar makes the sedatives go down…” 14) “Your prospects are already slim ya dingus, if he manages to get up they stop approaching zero and actually reach it is what you mean.”- At this point, their odds are so low they it’s a matter of perspective whether they actually still exist or not, but if the kids think they’ve got a chance, then they’re going for it, the suicidal rascals. @thelreads
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berf-a-smurf · 5 months
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I’ve really been trying to avoid posting this but I’m desperately seeking help. I need to make rent, utilities, gas, insurance, and groceries for December.
CA$ 0 / CA$ 1500
(ETA: loan received Nov. 25; no longer desperately seeking financial aid.)
Interested parties, please read below the cut.
[ TLDR:
I’m struggling hard. Please consider browsing my photography for sale (http://mwac.logicality.ca) or sending some spare change my way via the methods listed under “HOW TO HELP” near the end below or on my purchasing page (http://mwac.logicality.ca/purchasing.html). Thank you immensely 🫶
]
My story
[TW: mention of suicide. Sensitive persons, please skip to “[END TW]” below.]
In July, I left my job as a bottled water (of the 5 gallon type) delivery assistant to attempt taking my life. I sweet talked a cab driver to take me and a nitrogen tank into the middle of nowhere.
For vulnerable people: that is not to give you ideas; instead PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE reach out to someone (my dad has since surprised me with his support; you never know who is really there for you until you ask) or even message me. Genuinely, sincerely, I will do my best to help everyone who messages me 🫶
My nitrogen tank and I sat in the woods for hours while I contemplated my plan. I felt so alone, like my disappearance would really mean nothing to anyone. My struggles and lack of skills (not to mention relentless imposter syndrome) would never let me keep a job. I was so hopeless. I continued on with my plan. I moved onto cleaning up my pictures. If my body and belongings were found, I wanted my family to have the good pictures to remember me by. No dumb screenshots, no nudes, etc. I didn’t get to the part where “my life flashed before my eyes”, but I stepped through it one picture at a time.
My pictures reminded me that I was capable of travelling and that there was so much beyond Canada that I still wanted to see. My pictures reminded me that I am capable of connecting with people and I shouldn’t leave my sister behind. And that I’ll find another partner to love as deeply as my ex. I remembered things I’ve achieved and that I’m capable of some pretty cool things.
I called 9-1-1 and asked for a police officer to pick me up and bring me to the psych ward. (I deemed them the best option as our paramedics are already stretched thin and our firefighters were busy with the province burning.) They ended up sending 3 squad cars - one with a dog to find me in case I did end up offing myself before they got there. They did the standard handcuffing, questioning, searching my person and belongings, and had me agree for them to seize the nitrogen tank.
[END TW]
They brought me to our hospital for more questioning, blood samples, the works. I stayed the night before being transported to the next town’s hospital’s psych ward. I was there for two nights and the whole thing crippled my belief in our mental health care system. But they got me referred to a psych clinic in my town so there’s that.
Even though my psychologist says it’s too soon for me to be working, I’ve had no choice but to seek employment. The water company was open to hiring me back but I haven’t heard from them since. I’ve also not heard from the places I’ve applied at. I received one of two months of EI that I applied for - I reported a day’s worth of work I did for one of my dad’s customers and they cut me off and I keep getting told that the adjudicator will reach out but it’s been months now.
I am continuing my therapy plan and continuing to apply for positions. It’s getting down to the wire now, though, and I may lose everything if I can’t get through December.
For transparency, my breakdown of expenses are as follows:
$815.00 for rent due Dec. 1st (water, sewer, garbage included)
$107.59 for Telus internet due Dec. 1st
$128.77 for car insurance due Dec. 7th
~$40.00 for electricity (I currently have a $30 credit on my account but am projected to use about $70 worth. My apartment is electric heat so the bill climbs as the temperature drops.)
Groceries are about $40/week
And the remainder is for gas for me to go to my in-person therapy appointments, attend work interviews, and visit my parents who live out of town.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TO HELP:
I am selling my photography for CA$5 per image as wallpaper or CA$30 per image as wallpaper with rights to print and post. More info on my purchasing page.
I also warmly accept donations of any size through PayPal.Me or Interac eTransfer.
Personal PayPal (https://www.paypal.me/joshmdm)
Photography PayPal (https://www.paypal.me/MiedemaWithACamera)
eTransfer to [email protected] (I worry that bad actors would maliciously email my personal inbox or use it distastefully so I’m only providing my MWAC one)
I only ask for money you can spare. If your finances are tight, please like and reblog.
Thank you thank you thank you a million times from the bottom of my heart for reading and a million more in advance for any and every penny I’m offered. 🫶
To avoid doing an FAQ, please ask questions in the replies.
I wish you the best possible day!
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saffronjades · 6 months
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Fart Revenge
Amanda would prank Charlotte all the time. Ever since they became roommates, there has been at least one prank a week. Some are harmless, like the time she moved Charlotte's bed an inch to the right everyday until she noticed. Others end regretfully, like the time she locked the bathroom until Charlotte peed herself.
This day was the worst prank of all.
Amanda had found some sugar-free candy online that supposedly causes you to be gassy all day. She knew exactly what to do. You see, this idea extended beyond "farts are funny." This was much more than that. 2 days prior, Amanda and Charlotte were chatting, when something was revealed.
"I don't think anyone has heard me...pass gas in years. I'm mortified when it happens." Charlotte had avoided using the word 'fart' - That's far too crass for her taste; It was beneath her dignity. Of course, Amanda hadn't stopped thinking about this since she heard it. She started by trying to figure out what foods might make Charlotte start tooting, but when she came across this sugar-free miracle, she had to search no longer.
She purchased both sugar-free and regular versions. The sugar-free were placed in a bowl on the dining table, whilst she held the sugary versions in her hands. She didn't want to get herself gassy.
Amanda stood with her hand above the bowl, waiting for Charlotte to enter the room. As soon as she did, she retracted her hand, pretending she had just taken hers from the bowl. She popped one into her mouth, "Hey Charlotte," she spoke as she pretended like the food was no big deal.
"What are they?"
"Oh, I had some a while ago and loved them. Figured out the brand and got some more. They're mine though." Amanda knew that claiming they were hers would make Charlotte lose any suspicion.
Charlotte smiled, whilst reaching for the bowl. "Well I'm having some anyway," she laughed.
They sat for a while, eating and chatting. "I haven't even had much to eat today," Charlotte wondered aloud, "should I really be eating something sugary before proper food?"
Amanda knew that she should really be concerned about something else.
As Charlotte stood up for the first time since eating the candy, she stopped halfway. Frozen there in a half-stood half-sat position, her face scrunched up slightly.
"You good there, girl?"
"I don't know, just cramps I think."
A short, audible squeak left her backside. *Prrt*. Amanda burst out into laughter.
"I'm sorry, I didn't just... That wasn't," Charlotte struggled to find words. Flustered, she began to laugh, too, making the problem worse. With each sound of laughter, another squeak followed, matching her giggle.
*Prrt*, *prrrt*, *prt*, *bbrrrrppptttt*.
"Sorry," Charlotte caught her composure, "I don't know what's happening."
Amanda's grin grew wider, as her laugh calmed down a little. "Me either."
Charlottes eye's narrowed at her.
"Did you somehow do this?"
Amanda's eyes darted towards the bowl on the table. It was instinctive and accidental, but it was far more telling than her short and snappy "No."
But Charlotte pretended to play along. "Guess my stomach just isn't sitting right today."
She may be easily embarrassed. She may be shy about bodily functions. But above all else, Charlotte likes revenge. I mean, who doesn't?
As she walked past Amanda, she subtly pushed, right as Amanda's head was near her ass.
*Brrrrppppptttttt*.
"Fuck, excuse me," Charlotte smiled as she walked. Amanda could not see this, as she coughed at the slight smell lingering in the air.
Half an hour later, both were in their own bedrooms. Charlotte had farted almost non-stop since. Rubbing her stomach, she decided more revenge was needed. She also wanted to escape her own scent that was slowly taking over her room. She left to join Amanda in her room.
"Stopped ripping ass yet?"
"A little," Charlotte lied as she climbed onto Amanda's bed, "what are you up to?"
"Just finding a show to watch. Got a shit-ton to catch up on."
Charlotte wasn't listening to her - She was focussing on her stomach. Waiting for the next gurgle...
Then it hit her. Without warning, she grabbed the blanket, trapped the two of them inside, and allowed her bottom to relax.
*Pprrrrrrrrrrrtttttttttttttt*.
She sighed with relief - The pressure escaping her felt amazing. She could feel every ounce of air leaving her guts. The smell was disgusting - The sugar-free substitute caused her fart's aroma to take on a rotten stink.
"What the fuck," Amanda screamed, "oh my god get me out of here," she laughed through the situation, despite choking on the scent.
"Want more?" Charlotte knew the answer would be 'No' - She did not care.
*Bbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrppppppppptpttttttttt*.
A 10-second, wet fart erupted from her backside.
"OH MY GOD," Amanda managed to free herself, "your ass smells like death what the fuck."
"You're the one who fed me that sugar-free shit... Yeah, I figured it out!"
Despite freeing herself from the blanket, Amanda still smelt the lingering remnants in the air. Charlotte secretly let off a more discrete one.
*Ffffffffffff*.
"Get out of my room," Amanda wasn't angry, she knew she deserved this revenge. She couldn't help but smile at the situation, "get out! I can't stand the --" The smell hit her again as it got 10x stronger.
Charlotte laughed as Amanda gagged slightly.
"Did you just..."
"Yep. Silent but deadly."
Charlotte felt one more brewing. She lifted up one buttcheek, tensed her face slightly, and grunted.
*BBBBBBBBBBbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrppppppppppppppppppppppttttttttttttt*.
Neither of them knew how long it lasted. They both froze for the entire duration in disbelief. The wet fart continued for at least 15 seconds, sounding strong throughout. The stench was the worst, but neither of them even reacted to it - They were too stunned and distracted from the sheer length of it.
"Do you think we're even now?" Charlotte asked with a smirk on her face.
"Yeah," Amanda lied, already trying to think of her payback, "we're even."
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whatshername86 · 2 years
Text
Chapter 3 - Nyx “The Investigation”
Warnings:  Bad Writing, Non-Con, Rape, Cheating?, Mind-Control, Gas-Lighting… Chapter 3 – The Investigation
 Summary:  Not everything is what it seems.  Nyx pulls her head out of her ass and starts asking the right questions.  Really, I’m just getting into the plot.  
Gabe cringes at the statement before taking it in.  ‘What do you mean?’
Nyx hushes him with a wave of her shaky hand ‘Natasha doesn’t like penetrating sex.’  
And she didn’t.  It was different with fingers or a tongue, but a strap was something Natasha wasn’t comfortable taking.  Nyx respected that and never pushed further than Natasha was comfortable with.  When it came to the bedroom Natasha would wear the strap, but she would never be a receiver of anything longer or thicker than Nyx’s fingers.
It was Natasha’s favorite strap because of what she would do to Nyx.  Not the other way around.
‘It’s a no-go area in the bedroom’
Nyx’s breathing is starting to rapidly increase as she thinks about all of the possible scenarios.
Gabe clears his throat trying to focus Nyx.  ‘Are you sure that you saw…’ He makes an off handed gesture. ‘You know...’
For a man in his early fifties its comical him being all awkward regarding sex.  Any other time, Nyx would be laughing at his expense.
‘I’m positive. It’s not something that I would forget.’  
It should have been a signal.  I should have known something was very wrong.
These were the only thoughts repeating in her mind.  
But the most important question, came to the forefront of her mind.  What the fuck is going on?  And what happened to Nat?
Nyx hisses out ‘The witch’
Nyx moves her hands quickly and starts typing.  Her focus is on the computer screen.  Completely ignoring Samson who is still sitting right next to her.  Until she barks out.
‘Commander I’m going to need all of the information we can get our hands on concerning Wanda Maximoff’ she looks up from her screen before stating in a clear voice, ‘I’m going to need you to reach out to your contacts in the ops community, Sir.’
Gabe knew it was Nyx’s mission voice.  She had been her own team lead for roughly five years now.  It appears that it is time to work.  And it was best to leave her to it.  
It also troubled him given Nyx’s revelation.  He had grown a soft spot for the ex-assassin over the years and doesn’t want any harm to come her way.
And if he is understanding all of the pieces that Nyx has put together.  Then there is no place on earth that will protect the witch from Nyx or the unit.
Nyx spends hours searching online and through military intel for information on the Maximoff’s.  But she is hitting roadblocks almost at every turn. She knew that Stark had covered up her Ultron involvement.
Probably due to some guilt trip Rogers presented to Stark.
But with the Hydra data leak a few years back Nyx thought that she should come a crossed at least something by now.
The data dump.  
What a mess.
Natasha and Rogers got caught up in the chaos that Peggy Carter and Fury created.  And of course, Fury entrusted all information pertaining to S.H.I.E.L.D. too Rogers on a thumb drive.
Rogers didn’t even know what to do with a thumb drive.
For some reason Rogers refused to call Stark or any other tech savvy contact.  Instead, what does he do.
He brings in his jogging buddy.
Then makes the decision with Fury to release all S.H.I.E.L.D. data files on the web.  These files would include employee records, mission reports, informant names, residential information, financial information and more.  
When that is going on Rogers was planning on crashing the Triskelion air ships as soon as each take off.
No surprise that Maria Hill followed Fury’s lead.  But at that point Natasha already had her world shook by the Hydra organization being exposed within the walls of S.H.I.E.L.D.
She turned to the only person she could trust.
Luckily Nat got ahold of me. Once she gave me the details of what was happening and what Fury and Rogers planned.  I immediately gathered the team.  Samson coordinated with the military and extraction groups for the innocent agents, families and contacts held under SHIELD’s witness protection.  Also, additional resources to clear out the surrounding area of the Triskelion’s.
I had gathered a few groups to bring in the S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents out on missions that had no idea of what was about to hit them.  A mass alert went out to all S.H.I.E.L.D. employee, families of all employees, informants and witness prior to the dump. Encouraging each to relocated to a safe location or populated environment.
We had contacted Stark’s AI. To perform a preemptive filter of the information being released online.  Ensuring that the data being release was Hydra and Hydra only.  The AI could work much faster than any human being ever could.  Stark was still recovering from surgery at the time.  He couldn’t do much but oversee the filtering of the data that Jarvis was conducting.
Nyx couldn’t understand why Rogers would risk so many lives.  
Fury was in a clean house mind set.  Start anew.  Just a plain asshole.  Trying to cover his own tracks while starting again somewhere else.  While everyone else is dealing with the chaos, he’s in hiding.
But that wasn’t an excuse for Rogers.  
Natasha was heartbroken with the Hydra fiasco.  
She had thought that she was doing good.  Making a positive difference with the lessons that the red room had taught her.
It took months for Natasha to regain her confidence in herself.  She started questioning everything that she thought she believed. With constant and steady reassurance from Nyx.  Natasha slowly regained her purposes.  
That included her dedicating more of her time with the Avengers.
She started spending a larger portion of her time at the Tower to be close to the team while still having the Banner angle going.  She also had, to keep an eye on Rogers.
Apparently, the Winter Soldier is in fact James Barnes or better known as Bucky.  This was another point of contention with Rogers that I had harbored.
Nat had told me of her experiences in the red room over the years.  That included a few of her interactions with the Soldier.
Natasha feared him, that was plain to see.  But refused to tell me why.  Her hesitation was enough for me to already be wary of the guy.  Natasha isn’t afraid of anyone.
While Rogers came and went from the tower on his search for Barnes with his puppet Wilson.  
Natasha refused to add any new detail or leads to Rogers’s search.  Nat knew that Barnes had killed Tony’s parents.  Nat and Rogers had found out at the same time while talking to Zola.
Steve had told Natasha that he would be the one to tell Stark.
Which reassured her.
Nat never really had a good history with Stark.  A large portion of the animosity was due to the mission Natasha was conducting when they first met.  She was undercover as a legal aid turned assistant at SI.  The smoke and mirror routine that Fury demanded to be done didn’t win her any favors with Stark.
The profile, that was submitted under Nat’s name was a joke.  
Another tool for Fury to use to hook Stark in.
I believe that Fury forgets that not everyone needs to be manipulated in order for them to perform tasks or agree to certain things.  
Fury has a problem; he looks at everything and everyone as pieces that need to be moved to the next stage.  Withholding all of the information and only hinting.
 With a frustrated growl Nyx pushes back.
Nyx is coming up empty with her search.  But she is recognizing a certain coding pattern a within the web.
Friday.  Stark’s work has a particular flow to it.
But why would Friday scrub the web on all information related to the witch.
An AI wouldn’t do it on its own.  It has to be because she was ordered to perform the cleanse.  And Nyx knows for a fact that there are four people with that level of access to order such a task.  Stark, Potts, Rhodes and Rogers.  
Potts & Rhodes would rather send Maximoff to prison than protect her.
Stark had already done his part with providing PR and protection from Ultron.  But would he go further…
Rogers definitely would. Wanda is a delicate flower in his mind.
The lot of them needs phycological help if they truly believe that woman is a delicate little girl.
Nyx did get a few leads.  
With Sokovia still in the process of rebuilding.  The government intelligence agency of the country has been under attack from outside intelligence hackers. 
 But the local government had started investigating rumors surrounding Strucker known base.  
Locals had been afraid for years but once Strucker was known to be dead, they slowly started opening up.
What information that is found in the system is corrupt and will take time to decode.  
And take a lot more skill than Nyx has.
She’ll have to direct the material to the DEMI’s teach expert.  
Moments later, Nyx sends the compressed files off to Sparks.  The DEMI’s techie.  Along with a list of specific items to dig into.
·       What are the limitations of Wanda’s Mind Powers?
·       The illusions are a known component.  What else can she do to one’s mind?  
·       What are the limitations on her telekinesis?  
·       Are there any known ways to block the mind power?
·       How close does she have to be to her target?
·       What is shown in her psych eval?  
·       Where are her mission reports with Hydra?  What do they include?
·       Doctor records, from the experimentations?  
·       How did she learn her skills?
·       How long has she had the powers?
·       Does she have a known history of violence?
·       Family history?
·       Find me all recent activity on the Avengers. Specifically, Rogers and Maximoff. Start tracking Natasha Romanov’s location 24 hours a day.  
·       Find me a loop-hole for Stark’s AI, Friday.
·       Wiretap the Avenger’s phone and data activity
·       Money coming in and out of the compound
This list should get the IT data techs busy.
Nyx makes herself an additional list for herself and Samson:
·       Schedule meeting with Stark & Rhodes.  Determine their level of involvement with the witch.  Gain insight into her powers and personality.
·       Start surveillance on Natasha.
·       Begin surveillance on Wanda once the range of her power has been determined.
·       Discuss counter measure
·       Power suppression options
·       Determine who Wanda’s alias are
·       Contact Clint to determine if he has noticed any behavioral differences with Natasha
And so, it begins.
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