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dduane · 9 months

Note

I am curious since I've seen stuff of yours mentioning the worldbuilding work being important (and because your Young Wizard series was hugely influential in the way I build worlds): Where do you put all the worldbuilding work? A notebook? A Google Doc? A file somewhere on a computer? Scattered sticky notes? Messages to friends? Do you try to keep it all organized?

I have no choice but to keep it organized, because if I don't, I'm screwed. :) ...And this isn't just a side effect of being 70+, but of having numerous projects going at once, all in wildly varying stages of development... and ideas for any of them are likely to pop up at any time.

Over time I've learned to keep separate projects' notes well separated from one another, to prevent confusion. Additionally, some kinds of notes are better for some projects than others. If the worldbuilding is mostly to do with character business and stuff going on inside people's brains, something that supports long-format typed notes will be best. For something that needs artwork, drawings, diagrams or calculations, something more graphics-oriented may work better. I usually find out what works best as as I go along, and stage newer notes accordingly.

In the past I've often used (physical) notebooks, but I don't any more, as it takes more effort than I care to expend to move things off the paper and onto the screen / into the file. (For those wondering: I normally compose directly into the computer, either by typing or [Dragon Anywhere-mediated] dictation. If a piece of work is giving me more trouble than usual, I'll sometimes break down and compose on paper, with a fountain pen: thanks for the hint, @neil-gaiman. Sometimes slowing things down does make a difference) :) ...Then I read the pen-generated material into the machine.

Probably the modality I use most often now for worldbuild material is Scrivener, for reasons I discussed a little over here the other day. It lets you store notes alongside your prose material, or in a research "folder" down at the bottom of your project: and it keeps it all together.

But I'm not always sitting down in front of the machine. Sometimes ideas pop out when you're on the road: or you're working on one project and something pertinent to another one comes up. So at such times I use:

Evernote. It syncs seamlessly among all the devices I use, and you can get at it from wherever you are in a browser or from a smartphone or tablet.

A voice recording app. I've got one in the iPad and one on my phone. If I'm somewhere without broadband and can't use Dragon, the saved audio can be fed into it later. Dragon'll then transcribe what I said and email it to me for inclusion in whatever note-keeping software I'm using. Right now on the iPad I'm using an app called Voice Recorder, and on the (Android) phone one that (mysteriously) also called Voice Recorder.

These are desperately handy for when an idea comes to you in the middle of the night and your handwriting's not to be trusted or you don't want to turn on the light for fear of waking up whoever else is in the bed. Fumble around for the recorder, turn it on, mumble your note in and go back to sleep. Just make sure you've actually turned it on. And off. :)

Sticky notes. I do use them, but I don't let them sit around: it's too easy for a passing breeze to blow them off the table / desk / whatever and under the fridge, where you'll never see them again. These normally get transcribed into electronic storage immediately, or stuck onto my desk in a spot where they have to be dealt with immediately; or (in the case of really important notes) stapled to several others that in same cases have been there for years. ...Notes not immediately transcribed get stuck into a notebook which I clean out carefully once a month, along with the other note-taking apps.

Another kind of sticky notes, of which I'm really fond, is this app for the iPad, called Tatter. It allows you to open multiple "notebooks" that can house what seem to be an unlimited number of stickies. Supports images, as well.

A wiki on a stick. If there's a lot of data coming down the pipeline at once, it's handy to have something to stick it into in which short articles can be linked easily to one another. You can export / cut-and-paste these into your main work file as necessary. Then at the project's end, you just zip the wiki's contents up and put it away somewhere, on disk or in the cloud, as you prefer. (Because who knows what its contents might come in handy for, some years from now...?) TiddlyWiki is good tor this kind of thing.

Anyway: the secret of successfully managing an array of note-taking methods like this is to set aside a day once a month to go through them all, making sure that notes that are worth something will be tucked safely into the project file associated with them. If you're not using a program like Scrivener that provides its own storage, this space can as easily be a folder on your desktop, or even a series of printouts. But the most important thing: back them up somewhere safe. Worldbuilding notes are some of the most painful to lose. ...I keep a set of mine in Dropbox, and an additional set in my laptop, and once a month I email a zipfile of the most crucial ones to myself.

If this sounds like a lot of work: that's as may be... but it's worth it. I mean, we're talking worlds here. Until they're safely out where people can see them on paper or on the screen, you are their only guardian.

At any rate: HTH!

#worldbuilding #note keeping #note keeping strategies

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demonsandmischief · 1 year

Text

-Chapter 9: The Avengers' Therapist-

Bisexual Female Reader x The Avengers

Rated M for eventual sexual themes

1.2K Words

My Masterlist for Previous Chapters. Please read disclaimer in Ch 1.

You honestly had forgotten about the whole run-in with Dr. Reynolds because work got really busy over the next week.

Some good news was that all of the Avengers passed their evaluations. Wanda had been especially worried about the results. She had admitted to not being the most cooperative, but you knew Bucky and Nat, even Tony, always seemed to be on their worst behavior.

Your boss knocked gently on the door to your small office. She shut the door softly behind her.

"Have you seen this?" she asked, taking a seat in the chair by your desk. She places her iPad in front of you, and you glance down at the article titled Avengers New Girlfriend???

You skimmed the article. An undisclosed source told them that the Avengers' new girlfriend was their old therapist who engaged in inappropriate behaviors while on the job. It even listed your name, and where you currently worked.

Your heart sank.

"We can't have our name associated with this," your boss said apologetically.

"None of this is true," you said, standing up. You handed her back the tablet.

"This is getting a lot of attention. You should go home. You can clear out your desk over the weekend."

"You're firing me?" you asked, unable to control the way your voice shook. This was all a nightmare.

She nodded, "Im sorry. It's just the way it is. You're a hard worker, and excellent at your job. This will clear up soon, you'll see."

She left you in silence, and you were completely unable to comprehend what had just happened.

You wanted to call Tony, but you wouldn't know what to say. Girlfriend? To all of them?

You didn't want to come back to the office, so you gathered everything in the space that was yours and placed it in your bag.

Everything was falling apart. You had only had this job for a few short weeks, and you were almost certain that the Avengers would want nothing to do with you once they saw that article.

The stupid thing was that it was true. You liked each one of them undeniably, unconventionally. There was a special place in your heart for everyone of them.

You smeared the stray tears that you couldn't hold back. You didn't know what to do.

You could feel people's stares as you walked by, and what was even worse was the mob of reporter-looking people waiting outside of the front doors. You knew they had to be there because of this. Luckily, there was an employee entrance that was quieter, and you made a quick escape.

Your apartment complex was packed, and you could see the hoards of people on your floor near your door. How did they know where you lived? What were you going to do?

You parked your car in the furthest lot, watching the cameras and reporters come and go. A sinking hopelessness filled you. You didn't know how to escape this. Everything was such a mess.

It had to have been minutes before your passenger door opened, scaring you half to death.

Steve slid in. He had a baseball cap covering his fluffy blonde hair.

"Should've called us, honey," he said, reaching over the middle console to wrap his arms tightly around you. His warm voice soothed you, and the gravity of the situation began to hit.

"Everything is ruined," you sniffled, muffled by his chest. You gripped his t-shirt.

He stroked your hair, down your back. You focused on the repeated motion.

"Bucky's got a distraction to get them away from the building, so we can get in there and get your stuff. It'll be safer for you to be at the compound with us."

"You all still want me around?" you whispered, peeking up at him. "I know - It's just... It's awkward."

"It's not awkward," he reassured. "It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change how important you are to us."

He dried your tears, kissing your cheek.

"What kind of distraction?" you asked.

Steve shrugged. "I didn't ask. He and Barton wanted to blow something up."

"Blow something up?"

"Just a trash can or something. I didn't question it," Steve said, pulling out his phone.

You didn't think their distraction would work, but sure enough, as soon as the reporters saw smoke, they cleared out.

"We have to be fast," Steve said, ushering you out. He kept you close, a steady hand on the small of your back.

You pulled out a duffle and a suitcase.

"You can throw clothes in that," you told him, as you went to the bathroom to gather your stuff there.

You were surprised to find Steve meticulously, but quickly, folding your clothes nicely in the suitcase. You could fit most of what you wanted in the two bags.

Steve stuck the baseball cap on your head, and you had no trouble getting out of there.

Natasha was waiting for you when you entered the main area of the compound.

She held open her arms, the first time she had willingly offered the affection.

"Solnyshka," she murmured, holding you close. Her soft touch was your undoing as you sobbed into her chest. "It's going to be okay."

"Everything is ruined," you sobbed.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," she soothed.

"I worked so hard," you cried, feeling Steve step behind you. He gathered the hair that stuck to the nape of your neck. The cool air was welcome against your heated skin. "Just to be seen as some slut."

Your sobs were ragged and harsh as you struggled to take in air. You felt like a floundering fish as your throat ached.

Steve picked you up, setting you on the couch and someone wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. You settled a little, unable to cry anymore, but still shuddering.

"We're sorry that we caused all of this," Sam said sincerely as he entered the room with Buck and Clint. "We should've considered what people would say."

"It's not even that," you said, voice rough and hoarse. You struggled to find the words to admit to them that they had it all wrong. "The girlfriend part doesn't bother me. My reputation as a therapist does."

"Being our girlfriend doesn't bother you?" Tony teased, walking alongside a smaller unfamiliar man. "Good news. Henry here is going to fix everything. He's my publicist, and also under an NDA."

You sat up, drying your cheeks. You tried to straighten your clothes, but it was no use. You knew you looked like a hot mess.

"Nice to meet you," Henry said politely.

"I made the contract we initially had go away completely. No record of it exists anywhere. Henry also took my official statement to be published now," Tony told you. His efforts, all of their efforts, meant so much to you. Your turmoil eased.

Once Henry left, Tony dropped down onto the couch next to you.

"I can't make people give you your job back. I mean, I guess I could, but I won't. I can help get your name cleared though."

You sniffled. You were exhausted. You felt like you had been hit by a train.

You laid in Tony's lap. Natasha adjusted the blanket so it fully covered you.

------------------Author's Note-------------------------

Tony ran his hand along your arm. His soothing touch sent you right to sleep.

Here's Ch 10

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eriellesudario · 5 years

Text

Getting Nutty for Demolition | Nutty Demolition – REVIEW

Note: DV Arts gave me a promo code to unlock the “Forever Unlocked” feature of the game. This perk will not influence the outcome of the review.

I remember watching this YouTube video by ‘Puffin Forest’ where he briefly mentions how ‘hilarious’ it is when a player in role-playing board games owns so much dynamite and throws it everywhere.

youtube

The reason why I mention this is because this game allows you to experiment with explosives and WRECK SH*T!!!

Nutty Demolition is a game developed by DV Arts, an independent gaming company in Christchurch, New Zealand. The task is to blow up the most bricks and pieces as much as possible.

Michael Topschij, the lead developer of the game, shared a preview of the game in his iPad Pro 2018 review. And the first thing that came to mind when I saw it was ‘Angry Birds’.

It’s club penguin meets angry birds, meets… Minecraft??

Origins

When asked about the game, Michael didn’t give much of an origin story. According to him, he had the idea 8 years ago but yet, wanted to make a game ‘crazy and awesome‘.

I wanted a game where you could blow stuff up and I thought, you need a cool character. And for some reason squirrels came to mind. I really cannot think where I got the idea from…

Gameplay

There are 3 forms of gameplay in Nutty Demolition:

Story mode

Sandbox Mode

Mini-game (Single and Multiplayer)

Storymode

Story mode requires you to demolish buildings using the explosions given to you. The more stars you get, the more nuts you earn.

The bricks can not go through the barriers or else you fail the challenge. City is the only one available in the story mode campaign as I am writing this and the rounds do challenge you to think outside the box.

I was getting lots of ‘Angry Birds’ vibes while I was playing, yet it was something I enjoyed.

Sandbox mode

Sandbox mode is where you’d get creative and build/place your own brick and buildings onto the map and demolish them using the explosives you’ve unlocked during the story mode.

However, you need to purchase said items in the shop using the nuts you own.

Luckily, once you purchase them, you have an unlimited supply. It’s basically Minecraft creative mode mixed with Tiny Towers.

Mini-Games

Mini games is another good way to earn nuts in the game. So far, there is only one mini game available. The task – destroy as many bricks as possible. You get 20 nuts payouts in the single player or if you’re first i. the multiplayer fatrue.

In-app purchaces

Note: I was informed I got the Free Version description wrong in the earlier version of the post. All of this have been changed and revised with the correct information.

Like almost every game in the app store, this game has its in-app purchases. There are 2 versions – the one for the in-game currency, and the one to that removes restrictions.

For the in-game currency, the cost ranges between $1.49 AUD for 200 nuts and the highest being $35.99 for 30 000 nuts.

The other one allows you to remove restrictions in the game. In the ‘Free‘ version, all your nuts goes to the vault. It only stores up to 500 nuts. You can earn nuts to spend on is through watching ads or paying for the game before doing the storymode. The ‘Subscription‘ and ‘Forever unlock‘ features removes restrictions and ads. Subscription cost $3.99 a month while the Forever Unlock cost $30.99.

Can you play/enjoy the game without paying?

Maybe????

Hope you’re willing to watch so many ads to earn nuts in the game. I mean, when I played Pewdiepie: Tuber Simulator, I didn’t mind watching the ads. I’m pretty sure a lot of us did.

It really depends on how you view it.

I was adviced by Michael to save up for the more higher priced explosives if I want to earn a higher score in multiplayer.

Design and music

The design of the game is basically angry birds meets tiny towers. It’s cute and really something for kids to enjoy without worrying the parents.

The music is composed by Screenhog (Chris Hendricks) who composed other games such as Epic Snails and Club Penguin.

Speaking of Club Penguin, some of this game’s design has some Club Penguin aesthetic in it since Michael used to play the game under the name “Ninja O’Dark”.

Overall

Nutty Demolition is a good game if you want to kill some time. It’s basically like Angry Birds but without the projectile birds. This game makes you think outside the box on the challenges it gives you and that’s something I enjoyed.

However, I do struggle whenever I get stuck between levels and makes me want to turn the game off.

I give this game 4/5. It’s something fun for the casual game but there should be more things added for it to be perfect.

Nutty Demolition is available now on the App Store and Goggle Play.

#2018 #video games #review #nutty demolition #Youtube

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tamagochiie · 3 years

Text

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you. Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting… tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing, mentioned homophobia w/c: 3.6k

tagging list: @angrylittleriri @chims-kookies @gooseyhouse @kiyokoscunchie @unhappyraspberry @elianetsantana

a/n: welcome to the THIRD chapter of the fic! i hope you’re all doing well since i’ve last posted. I genuinely apologize for the delay! a few personal things kinda popped up, and it kinda derailed the process of posting this fic, but at least we’re here now! this is a bit longer compared to the other chapters, but i hope you all enjoy! please ignore any grammar mistakes, i proof read this to the best of my ability and it’s currently 5 in the morning :’)

see you all next week for the final chapter. p.s. I do have a smol surprise, so stay tuned for next week!

back to master list

<< life as she’s known it | life as they’ll know it >>

Kenma had always been aware of the common misconception people had of him, and the lack of interest they had to confirm it: that he had the inability to express his thoughts and feelings let alone identify it.

In a way, he did find it rather difficult to open up. Being bullied as a child silenced him into the dreading assumption that anyone who was kind to him or showed any interest in him were only doing so just to mess with him.

It took Kuroo quite a lot when he first met Kenma. He bent his little body over and under, jumping through hoops like a show pony just to get Kenma to even blink his way. And though all that effort strained him, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you he’d do it all again if he could.

But it wasn’t a question of whether or not Kenma could identify what he was feeling and thoroughly express it. He had the right words, all of which were hanging off the tip of his tongue. He just didn’t know how to say it without sounding insensitive or heartless.

So as he stares at Yuki twirling in a dress you found digging through one of your old childhood clothes, his lips run dry. His words tuck behind the swell of his heart because though Yuki does indeed look like the cutest child he’s ever seen, his thoughts are full of concern, worried about what people say to a little boy showing up in a jean overall dress with purple and yellow flowers embroidered at the hem.

His eyes gape onto the sight before him, flickering over to Eiji when he hears him clear his throat. He seems just as troubled, quieter than usual while he watches over his brother. Not a single trace of amusement is seen in Eiji’s face. He doesn’t seem happy at all, and it phases Kenma; he’s usually stoic if not smiling in the presence of Yuki.

Yuki continues to giggle himself, gripping onto the material of his dress to have it flow in the air. He looks up to meet your eyes, oblivious to the two boys muddled in their own distress.

“I’m sorry, Yuki-chan,” You huff, smiling down to the little boy running circles in the middle of the living room. “If I had known the preschool was gonna accept you so soon, I would’ve brought you to the mall...But this should be fine for now, right? Is this okay with you, Yuki-chan?”

Yuki disregards your apology, holding up your old frog raincoat as he beams at his “new” found clothes.

“Plus, these don’t look so old, and it doesn’t look too girly, don’t you think?” You turn to Kenma who spares you nothing more than a nod. You follow his gaze and find it etched into the embroidered hem.

It doesn’t pass off as boy clothes, he thinks, letting your words breeze past him.

Kenma isn’t shy with breaking gender norms; he’s worn a few skirts and dresses himself, all that are still sitting in his closet to be worn again. His qualms aren’t with Yuki wearing a dress, but the treatment he’s expected to get when he shows up to his first day of school. He’ll be bullied into the same silence Kenma faced, and he’ll amount to nothing more than rubble beneath their judgement.

They say times are changing, so the people must be too, right? But there’s a persistent constricting feeling building up in his chest as if it comes as a warning sign. And the fact that Eiji looks just as uneasy as himself hints that maybe Yuki should change out of something less...worrisome.

“Mmm, Yuki,” Kenma clears his throat, trying to subside the build up of his uneasiness, “maybe you should wear something else…?” Yuki’s smile falters at his words as confusion colors away his joy. “I think you should wear the pants with the little frog shirt you picked out instead.”

He doesn’t mean for his words to come out bitter and cold, and the momentum of his panic leaves a lump in his throat he isn’t too sure he’ll be able to swallow if he keeps his silence.

Yuki looks up to him, blinking away at his words with glistening eyes. “I don’t look pretty?” Yuki’s voice comes out small--smaller than his fingers and toes. Smaller than his ability to comprehend where Kenma’s truly coming from. “You don’t like it, Kenma-san..?”

Oh no, he thinks to himself. Panic rises from his stomach and climbs up to his chest; a tightness in his throat soon follows when Yuki begins to blubber, telling him how mean he’s being. I didn’t mean to make him--

“Kozume.” You chide, looking at him quizzically. He meets your eyes and he instantly freezes up, thinking you, too, have come to misunderstand him. “What are you doing? Do something.”

But he can’t. If he opens his mouth, he’ll only sound meaner than before, and he’d rather not add any more confusion or any more pain to the little boy.

“Say something,” You push, glaring at him. “Kozume.”

His throat goes dry as well as his lips, and when he finally does gain enough courage, Eiji takes a step forward beating him to the punch. “Yuki, I think it’s better you just wear pants. Dresses are for girls, and you shouldn’t be wearing this kind of stuff.”

Your eyes widen and so does Kenma’s. Eiji’s is stern and clear in contrast to all the other times he’s spoken since he’s arrived. You watch as he kneels to meet Yuki’s eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder before running it up to his cheek to wipe away his tears.

“There might be some problems if you wear a dress to school, Yuki-chan. And didn’t we promise each other we wouldn’t cause them any trouble for Oba-san and Kenma-san while we’re here?” Eiji’s voice is a lot soft, yet his words are still firm. Yuki quietly submits to his brother, hanging his head low as he continues to cry.

You stand there both stunned.

You want to speak up, but you’re still unsure of your place; who you are and what you can say. So you stand there with Kenma tightlipped at your side with tension hanging above your heads, watching as Yuki quietly sniffles to himself as he hugs the pile of clothes he’s picked and carries it into their shared bedroom.

Needless to say, everyone goes to bed tucked beneath the covers of their guilt.

❁ ❁ ❁

Quiet mornings with a steaming cup at hand while treading lightly through the endless sea of emails in his iPad brought Kenma an odd sense of peace, and he looked forward to it every morning. But much to Kenma’s dismay, the apartment is too quiet and the coffee bitter; the chill in the atmosphere is unsettling as he falls into deep thought.

He thinks back to the events of last night; Yuki’s crying face, your contorted look of confusion, and Eiji’s words. It all comes pouring down on him like a bucket of cold water.

Not even his coffee can spare him from the chill down his spine.

He mentally kicks himself, thinking of all the other ways he could’ve said it better. How he could’ve prevented him from breaking Yuki’s little heart and avoided your cold shoulder as you left in a hurry to take the kids to their schools.

Kenma sucks in a breath as the stinging spreads across his chest. The weight of his cup grows heavy and he shifts his grip to a more comfortable hold. Nothing about the morning is comforting, and it leaves Kenma in distress, the feeling spilling into his work as he continues about his day.

He can barely read a single line of an email let alone write one; his senses aren’t as sharp as he struggles to smoothen his hand-eye coordination during gaming; and he catches himself zoning out in the middle of his online meetings, barely humming responses to questions he pretends to hear.

Kenma wonders how Yuki’s doing, and what he could do to apologize and gain his trust back. Maybe he’ll get some strawberry milk on the way to fetch him, or buy the little duck umbrella he caught him eyeing at the convenience store.

Kenma isn’t good with words if one were to ask him to be gentle and kind. He’s blunt and straight to the point, and it took him more than just a while to get used to softening the blow of his words and how he delivers them.

And now, as he muddles in his misery does he ingrain those habits deeper into thought until it becomes muscle memory to his lips.

He’s only then pulled from his squabbles when the doorbells rings throughout the apartment. His feet drag him to the door as his mutters in his resentment. What in the hell could be here--

“You’re shitting me.” Kenma grimaces at the sight of the cheeky grin plastered across his best friend’s face as he opens the door; his hair tousled to the side and his usual business attire unkempt. “What the hell do you want?”

Kuroo pouts, pretending to be wounded by the bitter greeting as he holds a hand to his heart. “Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Not now, Kuroo-san.” Despite the bite in his words and his half-hearted attempt to shut the door, Kuroo welcomes himself in, kicking his shoes to the side before trailing behind him.

“I miss your calls,” Kuroo teases, eyes wandering about the apartment, “you don’t even text me back anymore.”

“I don’t have the time.” Kenma grits as he pinches the bridge of his nose. A drunken, dizzying feeling whirling in his head; probably because of all the coffee he’s downed and the little water he’s consumed. “Whatever it is you’re here to pester me with, please save it for another time and leave.”

“Why? Stay at home daddy roles keeping you occupied?” The cushion of the couch bends beneath Kuroo’s weight as he leisurely raises his feet to the coffee table, arms relaxing over to the arm rest. “I wasn’t so surprised when you became a CEO, but this--fatherhood was something I’d imagined you’d do much later...”

Irritation seeps through Kenma’s skin in the form of tense muscles and a clenched jaw as Kuroo continues on to pass cheap jokes and badgers him. He swipes a bottle warm from the fridge before joining Kuroo on the other side of the couch, kicking his foot off the table on the way.

“You’re so cold to me.” Kuroo whines, ruffling Kenma’s pudding head hair, earning a disapproving tsk. “Seriously, how’s it someone like you skips the step to marriage and dives straight to having kids? I’m a bit hurt. I had to hear it from Shoyo. Like, seriously? Shoyo? I thought I was your best friend?”

“Self-proclaimed.” He corrects, unbothered by Kuroo’s sore expression as he untwists the cap from the bottle before chugging the water down in one breath. “Will you leave now?”

“Why are you so keen to push me out?” Kuroo lifts himself off the warmth of the cushions, moving closer to his evidently troubled friend as he picks off the seal from the plastic bottle. “Kenma, are you okay? Kyanma?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose once again, Kenma shakes his head as he leans his head back. Kuroo tilts his head, watching as his friend unravels in his pain; manifesting both metaphorically and physically.

“I’ve said something mean to a little boy and he didn’t even deserve it.” Kenma fiddles the empty bottle, tossing it to the side before anxiously fiddling with his fingers.

“What happened?”

A deep and heavy sigh escapes him, “He was wearing a dress and I told him he shouldn’t. A-And, And it’s not like I didn’t want him to. I don’t mind it all, but people are mean and the thought that he might face the same kind of treatment I did--Kuroo-san, I don’t want that.”

“You only meant well,” Kuroo places his hand on Kenma’s shoulder, rubbing circles against the material of his old Nekoma sweater. “Though, you could’ve said it better--”

“You know damn well I’m not good at that!” Kenma spits, cutting him off.

“But the point is, you meant well!” He reiterates. “Might’ve come across as a lil douche-y, but the intentions were there. But I think you of all people know that no matter what, there’ll always be someone mean. And I don’t think you can shield him from that. Maybe temporarily, but not forever.”

“I don’t want that kind of pain for him!” Kenma abruptly stands from his place, frustration tingling at his fingertips as it spreads throughout the rest of his body. “He’s so small, Kuroo-san. You should’ve seen him. I said one thing and it already looked like he was gonna break. What happens when he hears words worse than mine? What’ll I do then? What can I do for him?”

Sniffling. It is the sound that follows after Kenma’s voice breaks and causes Kuroo to raise his brows. At first he thinks his ears have tricked him, but when he finds tears pooling down to his chin as he collapses back onto his seat.

And it is at this moment, after all the time that has passed, has he seen him break.

“I-I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m so confused.” Kenma babbles on, stumbling on his own words and choking in between his sobs. And all Kuroo can offer is a soft, rhythmic pat on his back to try and calm him down.

“I’ve been doing some reading about how to understand children or how to raise one, but it's so different. There’s all these theories and guidelines, but no one tells you that you forget everything you read the second they appear in front of you…”

Kenma holds his head in his trembling hands, crying even harder. All the while he wonders what the child version of him would think if saw him as fragile as the fallen leaves that’d crunch beneath his feet. He’d wonder if he had known the stress he’d fall prey to, would he have continued?

But as the image of you bleed through his worries, he’s more than sure of his answer.

Yes.

Yes, I would.

Over and over again in one breath.

“You will be to that child what you needed when you were bullied.” Kuroo’s words are steady, matched with an endearing smile to comfort Kenma’s crying as he meets his glistening gaze. “You needed someone to reassure you that all you heard were nothing but lies, so you do that for him.”

“Ah, my dear friend, have you not heard of the phrase ‘It takes a village to raise a child’?” Kenma merely blinks at him quizzically as Kuroo snakes an arm around him to bring him close. “What I’m tryna say is: stop acting like you don’t have me, and Shoyo, and the rest of your friends who’re just within your reach. No one ever said it was only just going to be the two of you.”

Kenma swallows thickly, nodding in agreement as he wipes away the snot dripping from the tip of his nose. He says his thanks that’s quieter than a whisper, it comes airy and a bit croaky from crying.

The words of his best friend doesn’t immediately fill his heart with peace, but it does lift a little weight from his shoulders. It does give him the sense of security he’s been searching for. And all Kenma wants to do now is apologize to Yuki--

“Speaking of,” Kuroo clears his throat, wandering his eyes around the expanse of the apartment. “Where are the kids…?”

“Oh, shit.”

❁ ❁ ❁

Kuroo and Kenma’s feet click clack against the pavement as they run down to Yuki’s preschool. The cool afternoon air winds past the pair; Kenma’s chest is heaving in pain while Kuroo barely breaks a sweat.

“I can’t believe you forgot the child!” Kuroo shouts behind him, laughing at Kenma struggling to catch up. “How could you forget a child?”

“I was pretty preoccupied today!” Kenma countered between ragged breaths. “If your ass didn’t show up I would’ve remembered!”

“Not with all that crying!”

“Don’t you dare bring that up ever!”

Kuroo’s hyena laugh carries two blocks over. Head turn as the two continue to bicker all the way down until they arrive at the preschool. Children clamoring before the gate, mingling with their parents and Kenma’s hooded gaze sweeps through the crowd to find a familiar tousled head of hair.

“What’s he look like?” Kuroo towers over Kenma and the children, squinting his eyes and looking around as if he’s got any clue.

“He, uh, he should be wearing jeans and a frog shir--” Kenma’s attention is pulled from a string of voices singing praises to find Yuki proudly twirling in his embroidered dress, basking in their compliment.

It becomes clear to Kenma you dire need to leave the house immediately was because of this. Because you were being coy.

But Yuki’s joy is short-lived, locking eyes with Kenma huffing for air after all the running. But to the young boy gaping up at him, it looks as if he’s ready to yell. So he stops his twirling, his smile slipping away as the rest of the kids’ turn to face him.

Yuki straightens himself, adjusting the straps of his backpack as he carefully walks towards Kenma with his head hung low. Kuroo elbows his side and nearly knocks out the little air he has left.

He swipes his tongue across his lips before he speaks, But before he can even utter a sound, his train of thought is pulled from him once again.

“Disgusting.” An abrasive, disembodied voice grimaces. Not a single care if they’re heard.

“Why the hell is he wearing a dress?” Says another.

“Honestly, this generation…”

“Boy’s aren’t supposed to be wearing dresses.”

The chattering picks up and soon all the parents are ogling at Yuki who can hear them all so clearly, and Kenma notices him shrinking into his froggy raincoat, trying to hide from their judgemental stares.

This, Kenma thinks. This is exactly what I mean.

Kenma is not an emotional person, and not once did he ever raise his voice or act on what he was feeling without thinking it over. And as much as he’d like to throw his hands and cause a scene, he remembers Kuroo’s advice.

“Who’s child is this?” One of the mothers questions. “Who does this child belong to?”

“He belongs to me, Miss.” Kenma rasps, taking Yuki’s hand in his before turning to the woman. “I am the guardian and this is my child.”

“And you allow your child to wear a dress?”

“Yes.” He answers, finding the footing in his confidence to talk back to a woman who can easily tower over him if she steps closer. “Yes, and what does that have to do with you?”

“Have you no shame?” She glares at him in disgust, sighing. “He’s a boy! Boy’s shouldn’t be wearing dresses! It’s for girls! What kind of message are you trying to teach him?”

“And what about you, Miss? Are you proud to show your kid and all these other young minds that its okay to be a bigot? That it’s okay to be uneducated?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg.” Kenma spits, his cat eyes burning holes into the mother’s skin. He’s completely unphased by the growing whispers exchanged between the parents. Kuroo watches proudly in the background, quietly cheering him on. “Skirts were worn by both men and women during the prehistoric times, and biologically speaking, it makes more sense if men were to wear skirts. They only stopped because people as close minded and uneducated as you feared femininity.”

“So I should ask you the same question, Miss: have you no shame? Telling a small child he’s disgusting because we wanted to wear something that made him happy and comfortable. Is he hurting you?”

The woman’s lips fall to an ‘o’ as she’s at a loss for words, and Kenma relishes in his growing confidence, bending down to Yuki to pick him up and rest him onto his hip.

“You have no right to talk to my child that way.” Kenma clears his throat, taking a step back as he maintains eye contact with all the parents at sight. “Let me make this very clear: should you feel the need to take my place as his guardian and try to speak for me, I suggest you don’t.”

Kenma let’s his words linger in the air and begins to walk away, Kuroo slipping through the sea of parents to walk alongside him.

A smirk slips across his lips, looking down to Yuki clinging his around Kenma’s neck.

“Wow,” Kuroo breathes, amusement lacing in his tone. “I didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Oh my god, I never wanna do that again.” Kenma twitches the cringe out from his body before pressing Yuki closer to him. “I hate talking to people.”

“But you did a very good job, I’m actually super proud.”

“Shut up,” Kenma mutters, locking his eyes onto the pavement ahead of him.

He’s still shocked, unable to believe what had just transpired. He hated the feeling of everyone’s eyes fixed on him, and how quiet it was when he spoke. He hated having to speak up.

But if had to do it again, he would.

He’d do it again and again in one breath.

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Two Worlds.

I’am planning on doing a part two IF this part gets enough interest. Thank you to @detective-giggles & @beccabarba for letting run this idea by you both and being supportive.

Warnings: It’s in the name, just the back story and we are going to pretend Miguel is divorced for this one.

WC: 1354

Enjoy x

When you had taken on the job as the assistant for the infamous Bryan Kneef you didn’t know how deep you would be getting. Bryan didn’t make it easy for you at first, but it all made sense once he let you into his other world completely. He needed to trust you completely, he couldn’t risk you blowing up everything he had worked to build in and out of the office. He never crossed either worlds, using his work office for out of work business or using his home office for his day job business. Most nights after finishing at STR Laurie you went straight to your desk in Bryan’s apartment office doing work for his ‘other’ clients.

The meeting in LA had been in motion for over a month after a phone call from Miguel Galindo needing a new lawyer to take care of some business. Bryan got you to do some research before he agreed to the meeting. You both working out why Miguel needed a lawyer out of the state and Bryan gave you the go ahead to organise everything for the trip. You were both flying out late on a Friday night coming home late Sunday night for work on Monday, a dinner set up at a very popular restaurant in LA.

You weren’t naive when it came to life, you had seen more than your fair share of stuff, nothing surprised you, which Bryan liked, he didn’t need to treat you with kid gloves with any cases, worry about how you would react with what came in and you took everything in your stride no matter what the situation or who you were dealing with. You were the best assistant he had ever had, and as much as he wanted nothing more than to see your lips wrapped around his cock, he never crossed that line with you, not wanting to risk having to find another assistant that would match up to you, because he was sure there would never be one.

You had settled into your seat next to Bryan in your business class seats. You felt cold so you grabbed the blanket, threw it over your body up to your chin,

“You’re always cold. Need my jacket to?” Bryan said not taking his eyes off his phone.

“I’ am good thanks Bry” you smiled at the side of his face.

You had just slipped on your black pointed heels and fixed up the white non see through sheer cross over shirt into your knee length skin tight skirt when there was a knock on the door. You grabbed your leather covered iPad for you to take notes and your clutch walking to the door, looking through the peep hole and swinging the door open to Bryan in a charcoal grey suit with a navy button down, no tie and one hand in his pocket,

“Ready” Bryan smirked at you.

“Yep” you stepped out closing the door behind you. You and Bryan made your way towards the lifts to head down to get into a town car “Don’t forget you need to be back here by 10 for your Singapore call”

The town car pulled up at the restaurant you booked a table at and you both got out walking in. The host confirmed your name and booking number leading you both to your table. As you walked through the roof top bar, Bryan in front of you, you noticed some men standing and sitting in different parts of the restaurant all in black suits watching you and Bryan, their eyes glued on you’s,

“Mr Kneef nice to meet you finally”

“Like wise Mr Galindo”

You looked around Bryan to one the sexiest men you had ever set eyes on other than Bryan. His hair gelled back in place, his salt and peppered beard shaped perfectly, his cologne making your knees weak, his light grey suit perfectly pressed and his off white button down showing off his tanned skin. His beautiful brown eye’s met yours with a smile,

“You must be Y/N” Miguel held his hand to you, Bryan stepping out of the way for Miguel to take your one hand in his two warm big ones “Nice to finally put a face to the voice. It’s been a pleasure dealing with her Mr Kneef your lucky to have found an assistant like her” Miguel smiled at you again.

“Nice to meet you Mr Galindo, you’re too kind” You smiled over at him batting your eye lashes a shiver running down your spine.

You all moved to sit down after Miguel let go of your hand. Drinks and food were ordered and it was decided to get straight to business so you could all relax when dinner arrived. You noticed how Miguel looked over at you every so often with a smug look on his face while you took notes of the meeting while him and Bryan discussed what Miguel needed.

“That should all be straight forward, Y/N can draft up the paperwork and email them over for approval and then I can file them with the courts by Wednesday at the latest”

“Great” Miguel nodded and Bryan and he shook hands just as dinner arrived.

The night had got away from you all, laughing and drinking and dessert had been ordered when your phone pinged with a new email. You nudged Bryan’s side and lent over informing him the Singapore meeting had been moved forward 10 minutes, it starting in 20 minutes, it taking 15 to get back to hotel.

“You stay and have dessert, I can come back and get you after the meeting”

“I can get her back” Miguel smiled over at you “My car is out back”

Bryan nodded, shook Miguel’s hand back and left to get back for the meeting.

“Tell me a little about yourself Y/N” Miguel sat back in his chair with a grin and his head tilted slightly.

“What would you like to know” You smiled back leaning onto the table as you started to eat your chocolate mousse.

“Is there a special someone?” Miguel grinned.

“I don’t really have time for that with working for Mr Kneef”

“Is he at least satisfying you?”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No, its all business”

Miguel nodded with a smile and reached over to grab your hand taking yours in his, running his thumb over your knuckles,

“Let’s get you back to the hotel, we can order some wine, maybe I can take care of that situation for you.”

“I would like that” you smiled big.

The meeting had gone an hour over what it was meant to and Bryan needed to get to your room so he could dictate too you what happened so you could type it out before he forgot. His jacket was long gone just leaving him in his pants and dress shirt, his sleeves now rolled up, grabbing a small bottle of wine and a bottle of beer from his mini bar before stepping out of his room and walking up the hall way too your door. He knocked and stood back waiting for an answer and he heard a man’s voice muffled through the door and then it opening.

Bryan stood frozen in place as he set eyes on a bare chested Miguel and you sitting on the edge of the bed with Miguel’s shirt around your naked body. You jumped up your cheeks burning as you rushed to the door and stepped in front of Miguel,

“Bryan, I-I”

“She isn’t part of the contract” Bryan frowned his eyes on Miguel.

“I’ am sorry Bryan” Your face going bright red and Miguel put his hand on the small of your back to try and comfort you, puffing his chest out protectively.

“Y/N” Bryan’s voice was deep and your eyes snapped up to his. Bryan raised an eye brow looking between you both, a wicked smile pulling to his face, one also pulling to Miguel’s when he seen Bryan’s expression “Are you going to invite me in and make this a real party”

Tags: @thatesqcrush @teamsladsandgents @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @permanentlydizzy @madamsnape921 @amorestevens @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @storiesofsvu

#bryan kneef #bryan kneef x reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x you #bryan kneef x you #bryan kneef x female reader #bryan kneef x miguel galindo

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wtf-yoongi · 4 years

Text

Stage lights. ‹‹part III of III››

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | you visit jungkook on tour for the first time

genre/warnings | high levels of fluff + relatively new relationship + warning: features jk being extremely tired in between sets + but it’s ok because you look after him afterwards and now my heart is clenching

words | about 7k total (part III is 2,565)

✨ read part I here ✨

☁️ read part II here ☁️

note | kinda belongs in the same universe as this one, but can be read separately. i got carried away and wrote this huge thing, so i decided to separate it into three parts *laughs* kinda sad this is over and totally devastated by jk’s last words let me warn ya

When the show’s all over, things feel completely different. The messy room is even messier – but no one really cares at this point, collecting items at a much slower pace. People are talking more loudly now, laughing more freely, knowing that the work is done and that it was yet another successful night.

You leave your worries in a box in the back of your mind, although you can still hear Jungkook’s words echoing inside your head every now and then. When you look at him now, it’s almost impossible to think that this is the same person that left the stage mid-concert like that – even after having performed the rest of it. He looks a little worn out, yes, but happy and satisfied. Everyone has recovered from the intense final act, changed into more comfortable clothes, put on hats and beanies to cover some of the weirdly sticky hair – and positively look like any other person in the world after a day at work.

With the tension gone from the room, you feel much more comfortable now – not like you belong, but like you fit in enough. The same goes for when you move from the messy room to another one filled with tables, Jungkook taking your hand on your way there and telling you all they serve is Korean food, playfully adding that you could only eat rice if you wanted.

He was joking, of course.

Even if things could get weird – and you predicted them to – they really don’t. Jungkook leads you to a table that sits six and the seat next to you, that you would expect to remain empty, is soon taken by a smiling Hae. Namjoon sits in front of you and all of a sudden the table is full.

Conversation flows as easily as possible when two languages are being spoken and not all people can fully understand both – and it warms your heart to see everyone at least try for your sake. Jin even stood up at one point to do an impersonation of an annoying American interviewer and you felt the need to apologize for the whole country in between laughs and red cheeks.

When everyone is done eating and drinking, you stand up again, moving back to the messy room for long enough to pick up your personal belongings. Jungkook said you would be taking a van back to the hotel downtown and you nod as you feel him take your hand again to walk through the halls you came in earlier in the day. A few moments before stepping foot outside, though, he lets go abruptly.

You don’t mean to look at him like that, but you do it anyway. From the concerned look on his face, you must appear surprised and hurt in equal parts.

“Sorry, bad habit,” he apologizes, but doesn’t take your hand back. “I can’t really be seen with anyone, so I don’t usually… Even when there’s no one around…”

“Oh…” You nod and your expression changes again. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, there’s really nothing…”

“You’ll have to teach me these things, you now? Let me know when I have to do or stop doing something,” you say, now noticing how close you two are and taking a few steps away from Jungkook. “Do we have to keep a safe distance? I’m not being ironic, really, I’m just asking,” you add as you see his face fall.

He snorts, moving a little bit more awkwardly and brushing a hair strand out of his face. “Kinda, yeah.”

“It’s really ok, I don’t mind taking a few precautions,” you reassure him, turning your body and taking a few steps backwards so he can see you better. You point at the black baseball cap on your head and smile.

He smiles back at your words and doesn’t say anything even after you pile up in the van along with other people, opting for just taking your hand again and squeezing it tightly.

The ride back to the city is silent, conversation between everyone dying down the further away you are from the stadium. It seems, you think, exhaustion finally hits. You feel it too, eyes heavy as the adrenaline and nervousness from it all aren’t running through your veins anymore. You raise your eyes just enough to see Jungkook staring outside with dreamy and tired ones, ready to rest your head on his shoulder and nap until you get to your destination.

When your eyes open again, the van has stopped and Jungkook is slowly running his left hand through your hair to wake you up.

“We’re here,” he says slowly and you straighten your body to see people are lazily leaving the van. He laughs lightly. “Can’t believe you didn’t wake up with the screaming outside. I had to close the curtains.”

You’re in what seems to be the back of the building now and your brain finally tells you there’s noise going on, a not-so-distant high-pitched cheering. It gets very loud, then it calms down again, and you notice another van pulling up next to yours.

“Sorry,” you apologize out of habit and Jungkook shakes his head lightly, nudging you to move towards the door with a small smile on his face.

You fix the crooked cap on top of your head and blink a few times to wake up a little better, finally getting up to leave. Outside, you can only see a reduced number of staff members and you assume this hotel really isn’t for everyone – much less the number of people you saw working earlier in the day.

When outside, you wait for Jungkook and follow him into the backdoor. There’s a tiny elevator only a few steps into the building and people are waiting to go up in groups of three or four. It takes a while, but you eventually find yourself in a long corridor, dragging your feet through the carpeted floor.

“Tired?” Jungkook asks, stopping in front of a door and touching the key card to the lock.

“Don’t think I can say that after today,” you admit with a scoff. “And it’s still early in New York, I shouldn’t be this sleepy.”

“How early?”

“Google says there’s a six-hour difference,” you say, entering the room after Jungkook and immediately moving to relieve your shoulders from the weight of your backpack. “So, yeah, still early.”

When you look around the room, it looks lived in, but not nearly as disorganized as you expected it to be. You know Jungkook has slept here already and it seems like room service wasn’t allowed. The bed is still kind of messy, but in a comfortable and inviting way – the way freshly made hotel beds never are.

Next to his open suitcase, you see yours, though – and that’s how you know at least someone has access to this room with the exception of Jungkook himself. It is pressed to the wall perfectly and you notice there’s a foreign, fancy paper bag sitting on top.

“What is this?” You ask, turning back to Jungkook, who’s placing his jacket inside the closet. “This isn’t mine.”

“It isn’t from me, sorry to disappoint,” he smirks. “Open up, let’s see what’s inside.”

You slowly walk towards your suitcase, taking the bag with one hand to open it up with the other. When you look inside, you see a box of fancy pastries and a note.

“It’s from Hae,” you say and turn the note around to read the small message written in delicate handwriting. You laugh lightly. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

“What? What does it say?” He asks from inside the bathroom. His voice is now muffled from brushing his teeth and you can’t help but laugh even more.

“Here’s what she wrote. Her words, ok?” You warn before continuing. “I hope it’s ok I’m writing you this. You’re American, you make friends quickly, right? It was great meeting you today and I can see why Jungkook won’t stop talking about you sometimes. He will never admit to doing this, though. Hope you have a great stay with us. XOXO Hae. P.s.: I’ve always wanted to write XOXO to someone. And then she finishes with a smiley face. How cute is that?”

“I love that you find it cute when she throws me under the bus like that,” he says, taking a towel to pat his lips dry. “I’m going to have a serious conversation with her.”

“But there’s food.” You show him the light colored box.

“She’s good, isn’t she? Diplomatic Hae.”

“She is. She brought me coffee before the show,” you say with a smile. “You told her I like macchiatos.”

“She asked me what kind of coffee you liked. I told you, she’s nice,” he shrugs. “You want to take a shower first?”

“Nah, you can go,” you say, putting the fancy bag on top of a side table. “I still have to open my suitcase, get my stuff and all…”

“Ok.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Jungkook reaching for the door in order to close it, but stopping midway for some reason. He widens his eyes a little, taking steps in the direction of his own suitcase.

“I have to grab some things,” he says with a weak laugh, lowering his body to reach for what looks like a pair of shorts and something else you can’t quite figure out. “Not on my own today, can’t walk around naked, can I?”

You take advantage of the fact that he can only see your side profile to simply shrug, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction from his words.

Thank God he can’t properly see your face.

When you open the bathroom door again, you feel relaxed – every muscle in your body a little bit too loose to function correctly. You put your head out to see Jungkook sitting in the middle of the bed, his legs spread out to both sides, with his big iPad in hand – you know he’s exhausted, but you also know him well enough. He will refuse to fall asleep while you’re not there with him.

“Hair dryer?”

“Oh…” He moves slowly, getting up again and reaching for it inside a random drawer. “There you go.”

“I thought you would blow dry yours.”

“I was going to, but too lazy,” he admits with a small smile. “It’s ok, it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll do it for you if you want me to,” you offer. “Come on.”

“You should just do yours, I…”

“Come on…”

You grab Jungkook by the hand, making him sit on the bed again and looking for the nearest power outlet.

“Let me baby you just for a little bit, ok?” You smile fondly at him, leaning in to lightly kiss his lips for the first time in hours. When you do it, you definitely feel like you should kiss more often. Much more often.

“If this is about today, I already told you I…”

“It isn’t about today,” you interrupt delicately, still holding his face close. “I have a feeling nothing I say will make you work in a more… Balanced way. Am I wrong? You don’t even need to say anything, I know I’m not.”

Jungkook laughs and his shoulders tense a little bit. “Yeah, people have mentioned this to me.”

“Well, if I’m not the only one… Maybe you should start considering it?” You half-ask, turning the hair dryer on. “Wow, this is surprisingly quiet. You own a fancy one, huh?”

You move your left hand through his hair calmly and Jungkook closes his eyes, his stance relaxing almost immediately. While you’re there, you also take the opportunity to brush your hand against his ears and neck a few times and you feel like he could fall asleep right there if it wasn’t for the low, but still a little annoying, hair dryer sound.

When you turn it off, you move your fingers to mess with his long bangs. “I noticed earlier your hair looks more healthy and fluffy.”

“The part that was bleached before grew out,” he answers lowly, his eyes still closed. “Do you like it like this?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you?”

“I like that it is easier to make it look decent,” he laughs quietly and finally opens his eyes. “Do you want me to blow-dry your hair?”

“Oh, no, you should go to bed, I’ll just…”

“Come on,” he repeats your words from minutes before. “Let me baby you a little too.”

Jungkook doesn’t stand up to blow-dry your hair, deciding to just stay seated and pull you down close to him. You have your back to him now and he’s careful to not miss any section, moving from side to side thoroughly. Having him play with your hair also relaxes your mind even further and a few more minutes pass before you’re turning back to him.

“It’s ok,” you take the tool from his hands to turn it off. “You don’t have to blow-dry it 100%, it’s going to take too long.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we’re both tired, let’s just go to sleep.”

You don’t have to say it twice. As you place the hair dryer next to the bed somewhere, not even bothering to stand up again to take it back to it’s original place, Jungkook is already turning around on the bed and pulling you by the hand to lay next to him.

“I already said this, but thanks for coming,” he inhales deeply, snuggling into your side as you’re both trying to make yourselves comfortable. “I know it’s hard, but… If you can, you should come more often.”

“You should go to New York more often too,” you say and your voice becomes quieter when the next words leave your lips. “I miss you all the time.”

Jungkook smiles warmly at you and brings one of your hands closer to him. “I will. It’s my turn now anyway,” he assures you and leaves a kiss on your wrist. “And I miss you all the time, too. Actually, I bet I miss you more.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I do.”

“Oh, so you just got to that conclusion inside your little head?” You chuckle, bringing the hand that is already closer to him to trace his face. Even now, exhausted and ready to pass out, you don’t think Jungkook glows any less.

“Exactly.”

A few moments pass and you feel yourself begin to give in to sleep. The room is completely quiet now with the exception of your light breathing and legs moving to fit in a little better. Jungkook’s body is warm just like the last time you were like this and you wish, from the bottom of your heart, to always sleep by his side for as long as you’re alive.

All of a sudden, you hear his voice again.

“Are you still awake?” He asks, voice not above a whisper. When you open your eyes, Jungkook is staring longingly at you and it takes a second for you to catch your breath.

You nod with the tiniest of smiles, reaching out to touch the arm that is lazily draped across your waist. “Yeah, is there anything wrong?”

“No, not wrong, but… I think I’m in love with you.”

Read more ›› masterlist

#jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

yeah, krabs does vibe alot at phil and technos place! c!krabs and c!icarus live in the tundra so its not a far walk! id imagine c!krabs decided to live there because it was the best place to go where there wasnt war or conflict since she doesnt really pick a side when it comes to that.

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH I DONT KNOW WHY I ALWAYS GET SO RILED UP WHEN TALIKNG ABOUT C!KRABS' LORE WITH C!QUACKITY BUT MMMMMMM

soso basically c!krabs was forced by c!dream to help build the obsidian detonator cause he had some info on her (shes very secretive and tries to be as invulnerable as possible) and was like

"if you dont help im spreading this lmao"

so then c!krabs was like

"bruh i guess i kinda have to now so okay"

so while she was helping build the detonater C!QUACKITY SAW AND TOOK IT OUT OF CONTEXT but he kept it to himself for the time being. once c!krabs was done with her part she dipped and was back at her place when c!tommy commed her and asked for backup once they started blowing up sh-t so she begrugingly went cause c!philza had told her how she shouldnt get more people to hate her

so she gets there and c!quackity gets all pissy and doesnt let her explain when she tries to so shes like

"oh my gosh whatever imma go fight these withers or whatever later skaters"

WHEN C!QUACKITY TRIES TO KILL HER AND HITS HER WITH HIS WEAPON WHILE SHE WAS WALKING AWAY

luckily it was the iron part of her body so it didnt hurt but she gave him a big ol slice on his chest and was all like

"quit being a child you child"

and essentially spat on him and went to throw hands with the withers

AND HE ALSO CALLS C!KRABS IRON FREAK CANONICALLY AND IM LIKE GRRRR BUT ALSO MMM PLOT

but anyways c!quackity is on his manipulation arc and trying to recruit people and he arrives at C!KRABS HOUSE, LETS HIMSELF IN MIND YOU AND BASICALLY MORALITY TRIPS HER INTO TALKING TO HIM.

so they talk and stuff, she tries to turn him down but hes like

"youre kinda useless and nothing and just an asset to peoples victory lmfao everyone you love is gonna leave you cause theyre better than you and youre boring and suck"

so she gets mad as she should and threatens to slice and dice him when he PULLS A KNIFE OUT ON HER AKA THE KNIFE HE MADE AFTER CUTTING OFF ONE OF HER IRON FINGERS THAT ONE TIME AND GOT IT MADe INTO A WEAPON TO SPITE HER

but yeah he threatens to kill her and when she tries to go for her weapon while hes distracted he slams her into a wall and everything just sorta floods her mind and she starts having a panic attack so hes like

"bruh ill let you calm down on your own cause you kinda hate me but i also understand how bad panic attacks are or whatever"

so they make a deal to duel and whoever wins gets their preffered outcome

THiS MAN CHEATS RIGHT WHEN C!KRABS HAS HIM ALMOST DEAD HE TAKES A SLOW FALLING POTION AND FLOATS OFF OF THE NEEDLE (the duel was being held there) AND IS ALL LIKE "LMAO I GOT A COUNTRY TO RUN HMU THO IF YOU STILL WANT THAT PLOT OF LAND AHA"

SO YEAH A LITTLE BIT OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT BUT STILL HATE C!QUACKITYS GUTS (in the au of course, his character is immaculate)

I'm seriously gonna start biting c!Quackity >:( Yo he is so horrible to c!kabs???? What the hell, I mean it fits his charcter but >:((((

c!krabs is a real badass! I hope she gets out of that situation somehow! Does that mean she is now begrudingly a part of Las Nevadas? Does that mean she is going to live there in case that is the situation?

What about Philza, Techno, Tommy etc? Where they there at the duel? Do they even know? What about c!Icarus? Do they know?

man I am so worried abt c!krabs ;w; I'm gonna start throwing hands with an ipad kid >:(

#Ramza chats #krabmeat #dsmpsona rant

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

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une ladybug, lady du coeur

summary: logan just wants to save the city. he's not very interested in the advances of his partner. he isn't. yes, he is. (OR: a miraculous ladybug sanders sides!au that is a VERY late birthday gift to @blinksinbewilderment)

a/n: this is a gift for my lovely spouse squad member blink!!! her birthday is in august, and it is now almost february, i know, i'm bad at this, i'm sorry. also i love you blink i hope you enjoy this ~

cw: mutual pining, cartoon violence

wordcount: 2818

read it on ao3!

“This is getting ridiculous,” Logan grumbles, fumbling to shove his books into his messenger bag. Outside, there’s a loud, distorted roar from the akuma of the day. “We are never going to finish the French Revolution unit at this rate.”

“Good thing you memorized the entire textbook at the beginning of the school year, hmm?” Roman says teasingly. He throws his iPad into his bag and elbows Logan, who smiles at him as soon as Roman isn’t looking at him. The building shakes with the force of another blow, and Roman instantly tugs Logan close to him. Logan pretends it doesn’t make his face flush pink.

“We have to go,” Roman says. “We have to get out of here!”

“Roman -”

Roman throws his backpack over his shoulder, and Logan barely manages to sling his messenger bag over his shoulder before Roman is grabbing his hand and sprinting through the school. Logan stumbles after Roman, once again cursing that he’s so much shorter than his best friend. Roman flies down the stairs three at a time, and it’s a wonder Logan doesn’t faceplant.

They burst out of the school and immediately dive into a nearby bush as a large hoof slams down into the street nearby. Logan cowers into the bush, and Roman hovers his body over him. Logan opens his eyes, and it’s only then that he notices that when Roman had grabbed his hand, he’d laced their fingers together.

There’s a very strange feeling in his chest, and he has no idea how to handle it. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to think about it for much longer as Roman pulls away. He feels disappointed, but then Roman is flashing his million-dollar model smile and Logan forgets how to feel anything but lovestruck.

“You stay here where it’s safe, okay? I’m gonna go get help.”

“What? What if something happens?”

“Hey, you know me! Paris’s favorite face and all that, I’ll be fine.” Roman winks at him, before leaning down and hugging Logan quickly. He sprints out of the bush, a streak of blurred red, and Logan buries his head in his hands and groans.

There’s a little rustling noise, and then a tiny little creature flies up out of his bag. It’s a little red creature, with two small antennae, covered in large black spots. He hovers next to Logan’s head, little tail twitching as he pats his head sympathetically.

“Crush got you down?”

“Shut up, Emile,” Logan mutters. “He’s not my crush.”

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” Emile sing-songs, landing on Logan’s head. “Did you see the way he held your haaaaaaand?” Logan blushes, picturing the way Roman’s fingers felt laced between his and the press of Roman’s broad palm against his smaller one, the glow of Roman’s vibrant green eyes in the sunlight as he glances over his shoulder and grins rakishly at Logan.

“Shut up,” Logan says shortly, rather than think about feelings anymore. “We have to deal with this akuma before anyone gets hurt.”

“Whatever you want, Logan,” Emile says. “You know how to suit up!”

Logan sighs, running his hands through his hair, and tucks his messenger bag into the bushes. He sweeps a few stray brown curls behind his ear, revealing his unassuming, plain black stud earrings. “Alright, here we go. Emile, spots on!”

A flash of red sparkles swirls around him, and the earrings glow. Emile giggles as he swirls around and disappears into Logan’s miraculous. Logan can’t stop a cocky smile from spreading across his face as the transformation begins to take hold.

He presses his hands against his eyes and pulls them across his face, leaving a gleaming red mask in his place. The transformation races down his body and spirals around his arms, his torso, his legs, melting away his polo and tie and slacks. His outfit is replaced with a bright red bodysuit, covering him completely from the neck down in a pattern of tiny gleaming hexagons with large black polka dots. He feels the red ribbon attach itself in his hair, tying it back from his face, and his yoyo materializes on his hip.

Ladybug drops to the ground in a perfect crouch, reaching for his yoyo and quickly flipping it open. He presses one of the buttons, and his insufferable partner’s face appears on screen with a phone dialing icon.

“Honestly, if you don’t pick up I swear to god,” Ladybug mutters. The phone rings for almost twenty seconds, but no one picks up. He snaps the yoyo shut when he hears a civilian scream and immediately throws it up towards the roof. He tugs the line and swings away, directly into the line of fire.

*~*~*~*~*

Most days, Roman doesn’t give a damn about being one of the most recognizable faces in Paris. He’s an extrovert - he loves people, loves taking pictures with them and performing for them and just generally being around them. He’s not like his introverted best friend. He loves the limelight.

When he’s trying to sneak away and transform, however, this is less appreciated.

“You want some help, kitten?” his kwami drawls, curled inside of the pocket of his letterman jacket.

“I don’t like it when you do stuff like that, you know that,” Roman mutters, ducking quickly into an alleyway to avoid yet another paparazzi camera.

“I know, but I don’t think you have a choice,” Remy says. Roman swats at his pocket, but he can’t deny that Remy is right. Normally, he can sneak away on his own, but the crowds just keep growing and growing.

“Don’t do anything too permanent, okay?”

“No sweat, kitten. You know Ladybug’s gonna fix it all when you’re done, right?”

“I don’t wanna make extra work for him!” Roman argues.

“It’s literally not even him, kitten, it’s his miraculous that powers it all.” The little black catlike creature flies up out of his pocket and disappears into the crowd. Roman keeps running, not taking any time to look back or see what his kwami is doing. Little black bubbles fizzle through the concrete, and he hears someone shouting behind him, but he darts around a building and into a dark and dirty alleyway. Within a minute, Remy floats through the wall and lands in his palms.

“Do I even want to know what you did?”

“Probably not. You subscribe to that pesky human concept of ‘morals’ or whatever.” Remy yawns, curling into Roman’s cupped hands.

“Can you just get in the damn ring already?”

“I will not.”

Roman reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small plastic travel thermos. “Not even for . . . coffee?”

Remy’s ears twitch, but he maintains a nonchalant facade. “Coffee? What would I care about coffee?”

“Oh, nothing much . . . it’s just double-brewed espresso, made with that expensive shit you love, that’s all.” Remy whimpers and twitches again. “And I added a little splash of lavender honey and creamer . . . but if you don’t want it, I guess I’ll have to drink it . . .”

“No!” Remy wails, shoving the lid off the travel cup and diving inside. Roman has no idea how Remy can stand submerging his entire body in near-boiling coffee, but he isn’t complaining. Remy pokes his head out of the travel mug and shakes a few drops of coffee out of his fur, smiling.

“You needed me?”

“Of course I do,” Roman snarks.

“You know how to call me, don’t you?”

“Remy, claws out!”

Roman grins as a blur of black disappears into the silver ring he wears, which quickly burns black as well. He can feel power thrumming through his body, racing along his veins like lightning, and he smirks, shifting his stance to a more confident one. Two fingers swipe along his face, dragging black leather in their wake. He combs through his hair as it grows longer and more unruly, and black leather cat ears sprout up from his tousled curls. Black leather and green lightning spiral around him, and the facade of Roman Roi drops away.

Steel-toed black boots hit the ground as Chat Noir pulls his black belt tail out of his outfit, With a flick of the wrist, his staff is in his hand, and he vaults up through the Paris sky.

*~*~*~*~*

Ladybug dodges another blow from the akuma, which shrieks and hurls another projectile his way. It’s a florist, he thinks, akumatized over scathing comments from the mayor’s hellspawn. Ladybug doesn’t blame him for being upset, but the thorny vines choking the city streets are really a bit much to deal with.

“This is not necessary!” Ladybug shouts, drawing his yoyo and quickly lassoing the nearest building. He swings away as a plant erupts where he was standing. The thorns are enormous and sharp and almost as big as he is. “I know that you are upset, but please -”

“You want to call my profession silly?!” the akuma roars. Ladybug is sure that he has some kind of proper akuma name, but he honestly doesn’t remember it anymore. “I will cover you in thorns, and you will see how sharp a florist can be!”

Ladybug winds the cord of his yoyo around his fingers, crouching in the shadow of a balcony. He needs to figure out where the akuma is hiding, he needs to control the damage to make sure no innocent civilians are injured, he needs - he needs -

“My ladybug, look out!”

A silver staff flies out of nowhere and knocks Ladybug back as a Venus flytrap roars to life beneath him. If he hadn’t been knocked out of the way when he was . . .

A dark figure lands next to him. “Fancy running into you here,” Chat Noir purrs, eyes gleaming dangerously as he pulls Ladybug to his feet.

“Of course I ran into you here, we are both superheroes. This is our job,” Ladybug says, rolling his eyes. Chat Noir spins him around and dips him, and Ladybug is about to scold him for letting romantic nonsense interfere with their job until he realizes that they’ve narrowly avoided a deadly blow.

“You’re welcome,” Chat Noir says. “You can thank me properly later. For now, we have a job to do, don’t we?” He pulls Ladybug to his feet easily and takes his staff from where it’s lodged in the building behind them. “What’s the scoop?”

Ladybug fills him in. “I hate people like that,” Chat Noir mutters. ‘People who try to put others in boxes and act like they can’t ever have a different role . . . that’s complete and utter horseshit. I deserve to be - people deserve to be whoever they want to be.” Ladybug tilts his head in confusion.

“You are correct, Chat Noir, but still . . .”

Chat Noir shakes his head and spins his staff in one hand, deflecting a barrage of thorns. “Where do we suspect the akuma is, my ladybug?” Ladybug squints at the akuma, trying to reason out where the akuma might be.

“I . . . there! There’s a sunhat on the akuma’s head, and from what I understand the akumatized citizen wears that hat frequently.”

“How are we going to get to it?” Chat Noir asks. “I only get one Cataclysm before I change back, so we have to make it count!” Ladybug pulls his yoyo from his hip and spins it rapidly in front of him.

“Let us see if this evens the odds. Lucky Charm!” He throws the yoyo up into the air, kicking one leg up behind him for balance. Logan does not believe in luck, but Ladybug finds he has no choice but to believe, given what he does.

The yoyo glows, giving out a shower of heart-shaped sparkles as it spins rapidly around and around in the air. Ladybug can never look up at the lucky charm while it’s forming, but Chat Noir always stares at it starry-eyed (when he can, anyway, and isn’t too busy defending them from the akuma attacks).

The Lucky Charm glows so brightly that even Chat Noir has to look away, and it drops down into Ladybug’s waiting hands, and it’s . . .

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Ladybug asks, holding the red-and-black-spotted plastic hairbrush in his hands. He looks up, and the world is suddenly black and white. This is normal; once his Lucky Charm lands in his hands, the world is devoid of color until he looks around, and certain objects will light up in red and black color. From there, he has to figure out what to do.

“You got an idea yet?” Chat Noir asks. Ladybug squints around, and then he has one.

*~*~*~*~*

Chat Noir doesn’t know what Ladybug sees when he holds his Lucky Charm. His eyes go slightly unfocused, and the brown of his irises gleams red and black. All he knows is that within a minute, Ladybug’s eyes always refocus, sharp and clean, and he always knows exactly what to do.

“I need to get close to the akuma,” he says. “As close as you can get me, okay? I know what I need to do.”

“Any specific vines you want me to take out?”

Ladybug points out a few key points, and Chat Noir grins, throwing his fist into the air. “Cataclysm!” His fist comes back down covered in inky black bubbling flames. Ladybug spins his yoyo rapidly, and Chat Noir can’t stop himself from winking before he tears off across the street.

Chat Noir only gets one Cataclysm, the same way that Ladybug only gets one Lucky Charm. Unlike Ladybug, however, Chat Noir has a little bit of a window where he can work. If he’s fast enough, he can hit a few of the vines before his power fizzles out. He launches off the building, careful to only land with his feet and his free hands, and takes off towards the akuma.

Ladybug had pointed out three or four specific vines that Chat Noir should try to hit; he manages to hit two of them before his Cataclysm runs out. He settles for smacking the vines aside with his staff, trying to draw as much of the akuma’s attention as possible. He succeeds, too; the akuma is so busy staring at him that it doesn’t notice when a red-and-black-spotted plastic hairbrush comes flying out of nowhere like a boomerang and hits the akuma squarely in the eye.

The akuma wails, and Chat Noir can hear his ring beeping down to four minutes left as Ladybug’s yoyo soars through the air and knocks the akuma’s hat off its head. It goes flying through the air towards Chat Noir. “Chat Noir, it’s up to you!” Ladybug calls.

Chat Noir deftly expands his staff to pin the hat against the nearest building and sprints along the street, vaulting himself off of a nearby parked car and snatching the hat up. The akuma wails as he tears the hat in half, and a little black butterfly flutters out of the hat. “Get out of here, you nasty bug!” Chat Noir hisses.

Ladybug’s yoyo glows bright white as he spins it around rapidly. “Time to de-evilize!” The yoyo sails through the air, slamming right into the akuma, and two black-spotted red wings snap out and trap the akuma inside the yoyo. Ladybug pulls it back against his body and gently taps the compact. It pops open to reveal a little white butterfly fluttering off into the sky.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly,” Ladybug croons, a fond expression on his face. Chat Noir can’t stop himself from grinning dopily at the sight. Ladybug hops off the roof and picks up the hairbrush from the nearby building and throws it into the air, as high as he can. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

A glittering swarm of ladybugs tears around Paris, and Chat Noir grins as a tingle of magic floods through him.

*~*~*~*~*

By the time they finally escape Patton’s eager questioning for his blog, Virgil standing next to him with a GoPro dutifully recording, there’s only two minutes left on their respective miraculouses. “Pound it!” Chat Noir exclaims, offering his fist to Ladybug for a fist bump. Ladybug rolls his eyes, but he accepts the fistbump anyway. Before he can pull his hand away, Chat Noir grabs his hand and turns it so that he’s holding it, back of his hand facing up.

“Chat Noir? We’re about to de-transform, what are you -”

Chat Noir lifts his hand to his lips and kisses it, softly. “Until next time, my lovely ladybug.” Before Ladybug can protest, Chat Noir is vaulting away. Ladybug barely manages to make it to a safe place before his last dot beeps away and his transformation disappears in a flurry of sparkles. Ladybug is gone, and Logan Cerveau lifts his hands to catch Emile.

“Thank you,” he quietly tells his kwami.

“No problem,” Emile yawns, settling in for a nap as Logan tucks him into his breast pocket. “You’re so smitten, it’s adorable . . .”

Logan is too busy concealing his blush to protest. Much.

#starshinewrites #blink tag!#logince #miraculous ladybug!au #wife squad!#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders

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eponymous-rose · 5 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E72

Don’t forget: this week’s episode of Critical Role will air on Friday, August 2nd (instead of Thursday) at 5 PM Pacific---that’s two hours earlier than usual!

Tonight’s guests are Taliesin Jaffe and Travis Willingham!

Announcements: Taliesin’s Call of Cthulhu one-shot is available right now on Twitch and will be on YouTube tomorrow morning! The third season of Between the Sheets will debut with Amanda Palmer’s episode on Monday, August 5th at 7PM Pacific, and will air monthly from then on! Congrats to Chris (TM and CR audio engineer) on his engagement!

Episode 72: Clay and Dust

Stats for this week’s episode: Caduceus has cast Commune three times. Fjord has dealt 48 damage to himself, 28 of which happened in this episode. The last spell Fjord cast from his pact with Uk’otoa (Uk’otoa) was Minor Illusion to show Jester an image of Vandran, and the last time Fjord cast Scorching Ray was episode 10.

The check-in with Vandran was “the first domino in that whole thing”. Travis emphasizes that this was definitely not the plan, but that the conversation with Vandran and seeing Jester’s confidence helped pave the way.

Taliesin has been really pleased with the effect Caduceus has had on the group. “Not heroes, exactly, but definitely something. Good anti-heroes.”

Taliesin was quite pleased with what Caduceus found with the Dusts, although he’s wary of a build-up to some sort of disappointment with the Stones. “Matt took what I gave him and definitely built it up very nicely, and hit a few things I was hoping he would hit.” Brian: “We’re talking about the game, right?”

Would Fjord have really sacrificed himself to get free of Uk’otoa? “No. He was bluffing. He was totally bluffing." It was an attempt to turn the hostage situation around. “He wants to live. He definitely wants to live, very much so.” If he hadn’t been surrounded by all this recent stuff from Caduceus and Jester, he “probably would have left”. Taliesin: “When the Old Ones start gaslighting you, man...”

Caduceus was “really hoping” that the rest of his family would be there. “He’s not big on hope. It’s not really where his spiritual energy comes from. He’s not a hopeful person, he’s a faithful person. It’s rare for him to have a desire, in that sense, so the disappointment was definitely there.” Expanding on the “not hopeful” thing: “If something’s difficult, it’s meant to be difficult. If something’s easy, it’s meant to be easy.” This is also the longest he’s been without his family: “The company is helping. A lot.”

Travis started realizing that he didn’t really know why Fjord was still keeping up the guise. “If you’re really going to be with these people, who the fuck are you lying to?” There’s a sense of building, world-altering plots brewing. On all the dramatic moves recently: “It was a natural evolution, and just time for a change.”

Taliesin got a message from Ashly at Comic Con when she was next to a Mollymauk cosplayer on the train. “Have they noticed you? ‘They have not IDed me as the murderer yet.’“

Caduceus is coping with being away from his family in part because of the company he’s keeping---“There’s nothing more calming than other people’s problems.”---and especially after nearly dying, he’s tripling down on the notion of being on a mission from the Wildmother, and “realizing that if all this gets taken care of, everything goes back to normal. There’s no other way to get to normality than to keep pushing forward.”

Cosplay of the Week: Caleb! (on Twitter: ivoreivet, photo by pearlbaecosplay).

Taliesin was impressed with and surprised by Fjord destroying his pact weapon. “Percy’s going like, ‘No, you’re going to need that later!’” Travis was thinking the same thing.

Travis on having Fjord decide to wake up Caduceus: “I was standing there bleeding, the break-up was done, and I really needed to talk to him” because the Wildmother was the only deity that had shown an interest. He apologized to Caleb and Jester, Caleb because he’d called him out on it earlier, Jester because they’d talked about a way forward and then he’d just made the decision. “I meant what I said in the game. Caduceus is very inspiring. He doesn’t know how things are going to go, but he has faith. I think I want to learn how to try to do that.” For Caduceus, hearing Fjord say that was more proof that he’s been on the right path.

Taliesin points out that Nature as a deity’s domain has a whole lot of options. “It’s not like there’s going to be a lot of overlap” between Caduceus and Fjord’s approaches moving forward. Travis mentions that Fjord’s never been comfortable leading and is looking forward to being able to learn from Caduceus “and just go, learn, watch-- oh god, those were all Uk’otoa words.” Fjord’s not sure if the Wildmother is going to be as involved/interested now that the main threat has been neutralized.

Taliesin on Summer’s Dance getting destroyed: “Molly would’ve given no fucks about the sword. None.” Fjord sees it as emblematic of a new start, which he thinks Molly would’ve appreciated.

Caduceus felt that Fjord’s accent-dropping was unimportant. “You’re going to pour out a lot of things that you think were important, and that’s fine. None of this is interesting.” Caduceus actually didn’t know beforehand that it was an act; just that Fjord was “in a bad relationship. It was all going to come pouring out at some point.”

Fan Art of the Week: Fjord, Caduceus, and the Wildmother! (on Twitter: leiaboeke).

Before this episode, the accent-dropping was “in moments when [Fjord] wasn’t thinking, moments of intensity or where he thought he was alone or the situation was reactionary, or something like that”.

When Whitestone came up, Taliesin and Travis both really wanted to go. Taliesin: “Can I cast Commute? Laura and I were freaking out pretty hard.” Taliesin has friends playing in CR-based campaigns who occasionally send him messages asking questions about Whitestone.

Everyone offering Fjord their weapons hit hard: “I think he was just trying to humbly express that he couldn’t do as much for the group as he did before. [...] That was just great. It wasn’t the words, and it wasn’t anyone trying to blow sunshine up your ass, because the truth of the matter is, yeah, everyone’s going to miss that shit. But instead going like, okay, that’s the scenario, here’s our solve.” Taliesin: “Your shitty girlfriend was in a really popular band, but that’s not why we were hanging out with you.”

Clay yeeting the residuum dust into the forge was him getting irritated by “everyone trying to logic out an act of faith. Watching everyone trying to figure out exactly what the rules were, when he knew it wasn’t the rules. This is not a system to game. You either act with the faith, or you don’t: okay, no, this is stupid, this is either going to work or it isn’t.”

Brian kills a fly with his iPad.

Caduceus has found the Kiln “recharging as hell”, to the point where it’ll be a little hard to leave again, although knowing they’ll probably wind up heading back there definitely helps.

Travis has no idea what’s happening with Fjord’s class right now. Matt’s only response thus far has been “You don’t know.”

Travis: “What happens if we TPK in front of a live audience?”

And we’re off to Gen Con!

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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kikabennet2 · 4 years

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I really wish I would have taken college seriously the first time around. I used to go work at my easy daycare job, carefree and singing songs with three year olds and then groaning/whining about going to class after my relatively easy day. Now I’m taking online classes (will transition into demonstration teaching soon) and after a full day of teaching kindergarten, creating lesson plans, checking emails from parents, scheduling conferences with parents, taking care of field trip info, and then going home and opening my laptop to an assignment I’ve been putting off, I feel like crumbling into a pile of dust and blowing away.

And for those of you who are interested, this is my schedule

6:45-8:30: I run breakfast bar for all four classes (Pre-Kinder and Kindergarten) sometimes or if another teacher is doing it, all of the kids come into my classroom (this is a mix of three, four, five, and six year olds)

8:45-9:30: First part of morning stem. We go over the day’s weather, days of the week (English and Spanish), calendar, special events coming up, sight words of the week, letter sounds of the week, number of the week, and a group assignment (usually a chart or discussion)

9:30-9:45: AM snack

9:45-10: Second part of morning stem. Book of the week or author’s chair (the students ‘read’ the book to the class) and a physical activity like a step aerobics or yoga video

10:00-10:30: Morning work (writing practice, small group math, art projects) while certain kids leave the class to go to dance, gymnastics, or music class. Sometimes we go outside, but hardly ever in the morning.

10:30-11:00: Free time (learning stations, free art, free reading, ipad time)

11:00-11:25: Clean up, prepare for lunch, group writing

11:30-11:45: Lunch (which takes forever because the students serve themselves and I always have slow eaters and kids who refuse to serve themselves b/c they don’t like what there is to eat)

11:50 ish-12:30: Kids get their sleeping cots out and make their beds. Technically they’re supposed to read a book on their cot, but none of the teachers implement this so we watch an episode of ‘Little Bear’ everyday before nap

12:30-2:00: Nap which is really dumb b/c my kids are too old for nap so mostly they just lay there bored and talk to me

2:00-2:30: Cots up. Afternoon stem. Repeat of the morning only much faster.

2:30-3:00: Afternoon work

3:00-3:30: Outside time (run free, children!)

3:30: Learning stations, table work (table toys basically)

3:45: Close down the classroom. Most of the children go home, but the children who don’t are walked over to the daycare building until 5:00 (both centers close at 5)

My day technically ends between 3:30 and 3:45, but I have lesson planning and parent emails and staff meetings and twice a year I have parent-teacher conferences and there’s a lot of field trip prep and stuff.

And I’m literally going back to school to do this in a higher education. What’s wrong with me?

#It's hard to transition from teacher to student on the regular #personal nonsense #Not that anyone cares but just thought I'd share

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everymovie2020 · 5 years

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The Hurricane Heist (2018)

Date watched: 15 June 2019

Just look at the POSTER. Magic.

I mean… I knew this was going to be a steaming pile of shit, because I watch bad movies all the time and I know when one is going to be particularly bad. And it is bad, but I didn't hate it? It was so ridiculous that I was just kind of rolling with it by the end.

I don't even know what this is. It's kind of a very localised disaster movie? But then also it's about bad guys trying to rob the US treasury which inexplicably has a warehouse in small town USA? (I believe they're in Alabama but honestly it could be any of those southern states)

Anyway, sit back and let me tell you the tale of the Hurricane Heist, which I’m putting under a cut because it’s lengthy.

Plot:

All right, so we start out with Pa, Bucky Joe and Billy Ray (please note for the purposes of this review I am using made up names because who cares what their actual names are) driving to escape a hurricane because for some reason they've left way too late.

Anyway they crash the car and run into a nearby farmhouse to take cover from the storm, but Pa is like, "Sons, I needs to get out there to fix our vehicle in this raging storm," and the kids are like, "Okay Pa whatever you say."

So of course he goes out into the hurricane and promptly gets FLATTENED by a flying water tank, it was great.

Then the kids are in the house screaming for their Pa, but the hurricane is in a real fucking-things-up kinda mood, so the house starts tearing apart, and then, no shit, little Billy Ray sees the image of a skull in the clouds about to swallow them up. Now that's how you craft a movie, people.

Fast forward to the present day and it turns out young Billy Ray has now got himself a fine storm chasin' vehicle named the Dominator (hmmm, I believe Reed Timmer of Storm Chasers fame would like a word with the writers of this movie – also, I know it's a niche thing but like, both this movie and Into the Storm have just blatantly stolen stuff from the short-lived but excellent TV show Storm Chasers, and I notice this but nobody else would). Billy Ray is a meteorologist and a hurricane is coming to fuck shit up.

Then we meet Maggie Grace, who I'm now going to refer to as Bobbi Rae because I'm working with a theme here, and she works for the ATF who are responsible for shredding old money at this big warehouse in this tiny small town in bumfuck nowhere Alabama.

Now, Bobbi Rae was something of a hotshot for the ATF but then she did something stupid and got demoted to money-shredder, which she's pissed about. I do not remember, nor do I care, about her checkered past.

So Bobbi Rae has this iPad which controls the safe, and she, for some reason, seems to be the only person who is allowed to unlock the safe. They also have a backlog of old money to be shredded because their shredder has not been working, and coincidentally, on the day of the hurricane, the repair people turn up to finally fix the shredder.

Now, the repair people are a man and a woman who are dressed just inexplicably for this line of work, which was my first clue that they were not above board (also WHY WOULD THEY SEND PEOPLE TO FIX THE SHREDDER IF A HURRICANE IS BEARING DOWN ON THIS TOWN but what do I know, the US Treasury Department is bigger than one damn hurricane that's for sure).

Anyway, across town Billy Ray rolls up to Bucky Joe's shithole of a business where he has settled in to ride out the hurricane. Bucky Joe is played by Australia's Ryan Kwanten, and I have a theory that Ryan Kwanten looks at Chris Hemsworth's career with some envy, as he has gotten stuck in this trap of playing sorta-hot-greasy-ripped Southern men in recent years, and this movie does nothing to change that. They were even on the same TV show in Australia, like, can you imagine moving over the US, getting a role on True Blood and thinking you're doing really well, and then watching Chris Hemsworth ascend into the fucking stratosphere?

This has nothing to do with anything, but it was just something I was thinking about watching this movie.

So Billy Ray and Bucky Joe don't get on much these days because Billy Ray is off fancying himself some kind of hotshot meteorologist, and Bucky Joe was a football player in high school but is now working as a repairman (a ripped repairman though, so good for him).

Over at the Treasury, Bobbi Rae has left and headed into town for some reason, and while she's out the bad guys take the opportunity to take the warehouse by force. Then it turns out one of the ATF guys is working with them, in what I guess was meant to be a plot twist. And also, the shredder-fixers I mentioned earlier? Yeah, they're totally in on it. I'm sorry but you don't roll up to the Treasury Department looking like a couple of cheap-ass hipsters during a hurricane if you're not evil, okay.

I can't remember exactly what happens because I watched a lot of movies this weekend so it's a bit of a blur, but I think bad guys roll up on Billy Ray and Bucky Joe and demand that Bucky Joe goes to fix the generator at the treasury, and Bobbi Rae sees this or is there for that, so she and Billy Ray end up working together out of his armoured car. Then they go to the cops and what's that? It turns out the fucking police are in on it, because they want some of that sweet, sweet about-to-be-shredded cash money.

Then there's a car chase mid-hurricane, and Bobbi Rae and Billy Ray spend the entirety of the chase shouting at each other (this movie is SO LOUD), until finally in order to stop the guys chasing and shooting at them, Billy Ray deploys the spikes from the bottom of this vehicle to anchor it to the road, the bad guys crash into them and roll their car.

See, again, this is blatant stealing from the excellent and important TV documentary show Storm Chasers, of which I have seen every episode. Not that they ever deployed their spikes to deliberately fuck someone up, of course.

THEN something happens that NEVER HAPPENS IN MOVIES – they pull up in a parking structure to escape the weather, and both Billy Ray and Bobbi Rae take the opportunity to urinate. WHAT. THEY ACTUALLY WROTE THAT INTO THE MOVIE.

Anyway, a lot of stuff is happening – the bad guys are freaking out because Bobbi Rae and Billy Ray keep thwarting them, and they need her to go back to the Treasury to unlock the safe, which they are also trying to hack at the same time. Bucky Joe is at the Treasury "fixing the generator", but then he tries to help the guards escape their cell and gets thrown in with them. Bobbi Rae and Billy Ray hatch a scheme to draw the bad guys out to the mall and also rescue Bucky Joe, who they bring with them as leverage. Then while at the mall they blow out the glass roof and the bad guys get sucked into the hurricane, but not our heroes, because they tethered themselves to the building (also there's a truly hilarious part at the start where Billy Ray starts whipping hubcaps at the bad guys in the storm and just straight up murdering people).

Then they hatch another scheme to blow up the Treasury? I don't recall exactly what they were going to blow up, but they needed to go to the garden centre and get fertiliser to make a bomb. And then the bad guys figure out they're there – because everyone is literally just driving around this town in a hurricane – and roll up on them, but just before shit can go to hell, a storm surge floods the shop and surrounding areas of the town, and yet somehow they all survive this, but Bobbi Rae gets captured by the baddies and taken back to the treasury.

At this point I was like, okay guys, so we're not blowing shit up now?

Because Billy Ray is in love with Bobbi Rae (or wanted to bang her), he and Bucky Joe hatch another scheme (so many schemes hatched in this movie!) to go rescue her, but by the time they get to the treasury the bad guys have packed trucks full of money and are on the run.

Now, this is where it gets truly ridiculous, in case you were worried that this point it wasn't ridiculous enough.

The eye of the hurricane has passed over them, and it is quite literally a delineated thing – as they're driving, they're in the sun, and behind them you can see the storm clouds racing to catch up. I think the plan is that these guys are just going to stay in the eye of the storm the whole way? Because the hurricane is literally going to follow the highway for them?

Anyway, things then go from truly ridiculous to utterly preposterous very, very quickly.

So Billy Ray and Bucky Joe are racing to catch up to the trucks, which have a head start on them. I had no idea what the plan was at this point. I don't know what they were intending to do. I guess they were intending to rescue Bobbi Rae but honestly, there's a lot of carnage and death in such a short space of time, plus they are literally outracing a hurricane.

What ends up happening is that they jump from their car to the back of the last truck in the line, and somehow they don't DIE? And then they take over that truck, and move on to the next one, and then… one of the trucks has its trailer sucked into the hurricane, which then detaches, and flips back to smash into the cab of the truck and blow it up?

Honestly it was pure insanity and I was in fits of laughter.

The movie ends with one of the other trucks getting sucked into the hurricane as well – literally sucked inside, as if the hurricane was a tornado and not actually a hurricane – but our heroes just continue driving in the eye of the storm.

I mean… I mean. I don't even KNOW WHAT TO SAY.

It's shit, but also, it's really funny? I mean, I can't say I enjoyed it enough to award it a "10/10 banger" but I'd give it like a "7/10 INSANE".

#the hurricane heist #2018 #movies #movie review #ryan kwanten #maggie grace #toby kebbell #other generic white people #a hurricane #the deep south #shit getting fucked up #general hilarity

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years

Text

Two Night Stand (Part 3)

Synopsis: (AU) You can’t wait for your contract to end and get that recommendation to get an actual job as a writer so you found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 2 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I'm sorry I took sooooo long to update this! I just had a writer’s block :(( ALSOOOO, this whole fic is actually inspired by Tove Stryke’s album - SWAY, so check that out if you want to know what I listen to when I write this fic ok bye. (gifs not mine its from tenor)

“This is me,” I say as we get to the front of Winnie’s building. He moves closer to touch my back and was about to plant a kiss on my cheeks, when he quickly realizes we’re on a hazard zone. We both laugh, I bite my lips, he is such a dream.

“Where’s your next appointment at?” I ask, as he fishes his pocket for his phone.

“It was actually the building next to where we did the fitting,” he scratches his head. What?! He sees my surprised face. “I just wanted to spend six blocks with you,” I blush for the nth time. He’s ridiculous, I shake my head.

“You sir are out of your mind,” his head is shyly hanging low.

“I’ll see you soon?” his blue eyes look into mine, does he have magic gems in them? What is wrong with me? This is unfair. I wish I could look at someone with puppy dog eyes and get what I want.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just turn in my resignation letter and we’ll be on our merry way.” Of course it’s a joke. I feel like I’m 12, hiding my middle school boyfriend from my parents. He laughs again, I’m pretty sure passers by look at us like we’re patients fresh out of the mental hospital. Especially with me, I’m probably the one with the stray jacket smiling like an idiot. Now he bites his lips, we both have places to be and yet here we are standing stuck on the concrete sidewalk like lamp posts oddly placed too close together.

“Y/N?” Shit, I whip my head and I see Nat. Holy crap I thought it was Winifred. You know what? I’m too jumpy and nervous that even if it was a grown man’s voice, I’d still think it was Winnie. “Good afternoon, Sir Barnes,” she greets Bucky as soon as she sees who I’m standing next to. She knows who he is?! I work with his mother and I didn’t know who he was. I immediately take a step away from him. Nat raises her eyebrows at me and gives me a suspicious look that says What’s going on Y/L/N? And I reply with a Don’t look at me like that! Look that has my nostrils flaring. I see Bucky try to hide his amused expression. What did he even find attractive about me? Probably my stupid expressions, right.

“I-uh have to go, thanks for helping me, Y/N.” He sneaks in, and in a split second touches my arm before he waves at Nat and I see Vision pulling up the driveway. When did that happen?

“Bye,” I reply as he gives me this look that I know already says a paragraph for my haywire brain. He gets inside the car and they start driving off. I smile like I’m waving off my husband before he leaves for work, like the pearl necklace wearing housewives from the 60’s cereal commercials.

“Why do I feel like you’ve had way too much fun on that errand?” Oh right, Nat. I quickly purse my lips together, blowing air into my cheeks as I try to hide my smile. Nat’s not stupid. Am I high? Is this what it feels like? The smile isn’t going away, my cheeks are filled with air. I shake my head like a five-year old. Nat pinches my side.

“Ow! Hey!”

“You’re gonna get into so much trouble.”

“I’m not! What for?” I play dumb with her, so far she knows the title of this suspicion, and not the content. I’m still safe.

“I saw how you two looked at each other,” okay, maybe she saw a little trailer too. We start walking towards the building’s doors.

“I just helped him with the fitting, he was just thankful for the help,” I’ve said help twice, at this point I might as well add one more, since third time’s the charm, am I right? Nat nods at me, she’s suddenly nonchalant. Wait a minute, that’s it? She quit? Normally, she doesn’t stop until she knows everything. Okay, I’m not complaining. Good, I guess my secret’s still safe, then. We enter the elevator, floor number thirty here we go.

*Ding!*

“You what?!” Whoops, guess not.

“Don’t tell anyone! I’ll take care of Bruce’s dog for you!” Bruce is her boyfriend, and he has this french bulldog that he’d ask Nat to walk every night. Nat would rather be staying at home binge watching the making of a murderer than walking that cute hound. She hated that dog. How could anyone hate that dog? Sure he jumps a lot at people, but it’s because he’s excited. He’s a dog, what does she expect it to do? Walk around at home on two feet and wash the dishes?

“Fine, and you better be the one to give him his baths as well,”

“What does Bruce even do?”

“He feeds him”

“Are we a committee? It’s one dog Nat, you don’t need a village to raise a dog.”

“Are you gonna shut up or am I gonna unzip my mouth, because there’s your boss.” Oh shit, I scowl at her. I walk and immediately follow Winifred just before she gets to the door of her office and open it for her. She walks to her table and I replace her coffee with a new one, thank god I didn’t forget to get one on the way with Bucky. She lowers her glasses and peers at me like I’m a parasite.

“Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting.”

“I’m- uh not.”

“I didn’t think so.” she lifts her glasses back up. I sigh, and fake a smile and snarl as soon as I turn my back. My phone beeps, it’s Sam, saying he’ll be ready to pick us up in thirty minutes, I tell Winifred and leave to sit at my desk. I open my drawer and pick a mirror up giving myself a once over. Maybe, the messy bun wasn’t ideal for a meeting at the Eleven Madison Park. I look like a bozo, do people even still use that word? I shake my head. I hear steps behind me, I look to see that it’s Clint. Just the person I need to get me out of this wardrobe disaster.

“Clint!” He turns around, a sudden glee to his face. He already knows it’s for a makeover, he skips in my direction. I laugh at his expression and I lift one of my camisole straps to signal the SOS and he points to the elevator. I give him a huge grin as I follow him to the lift. He presses floor number twenty, my favorite floor; the best floor, to be honest. I’m already excited, and I can tell he is too. Clint’s the art director, he’s the kindest. The moment I got in the View, he’s been a hero to me. He’s really close with Winnie, that’s why I was really anxious around him at first. But he was the only one who ate with me the first lunch I had in the building and even gave me a tour, and showed me all the ropes so I didn’t have to be such a nuisance to Winnie, not knowing where each department was located and what they did. The elevator doors open and I gasp, I feel like I’m in heaven. Racks of clothes, shoes and bags all over the whole floor. This was a luxury I could never see myself have in a million years.

“Come, sweetie let’s fix-” he gestures his hands over me like he’s swatting a fly, “whatever that is.” I shake my head and smirk.

“I’m ready.”I blow air up the strand of hair that’s fallen in front of my face.

Everytime me and Clint are together, he always tells me the best gossip. I rarely have any to share, but I’ve definitely been more observant of our coworkers. We’re at the aisle where the dresses are all lined up neatly. I see this gorgeous white off the shoulder dress that’s fitted. Clint sees me eyeing it, and pulls it from the rack. I put my hands up,

“Oh, no. I can’t wear that. I might stain it, and I definitely don’t have the money to replace that.”

“Honey, it’s all yours. I didn’t even know we still had this, it was for a 2015 photoshoot with Natalie Portman.” I almost trip, I’m I really serious about this? He pushes the dress onto me.

“Just wear it.” It’s not like I didn’t have a hint of disdain for it, he didn’t really have to ask twice. I ran to the dressing room and hope it fits. I pull my hair tie letting my hair snake behind my back. Okay, this looks really good. I’ve never really worn white before, and now that I’m pretty much checking myself out in the mirror, I think I’ll wear white more often. When I open the dressing room curtains, I see Clint holding nude stilettos, he’s literally my fairy godfather. I hug him tight, and I break free when he taps my shoulders, “oops, sorry. Too much?”

“Too much,” he replies.

“You’re. The. Best.”

“You owe me-”

“I know,” I kiss him on the cheek, thank him and say goodbye. I think I’m gonna have to start making a list of people I owe. I make a quick stop at one of the vanity tables at the far end of the floor and put a light dab of makeup on my face. Mostly just highlighter, lipstick and mascara. I steal a few pumps of the perfume on the table too, what good would it be working at the View if you couldn’t take advantage of the makeup lying around the styling department? I give myself one more look in the mirrored wall, and then click on the elevator buttons, now we wait. When I get back to my desk, I grab my iPad and a notebook just because, and stuff it all in my bag. I check everything, Winnie included. Sam’s already texted me that he’s already downstairs. I open Winnie’s office doors just as I see her standing up, and she gives me a smile- it looks like a genuine one. I tried to look into what it meant, it can’t be a real smile. Does she know I stole Natalie Portman’s dress? Holy shit she’s probably going to fire-

“Someone’s finally looking like a real employee,” she says as she walks out the door, I clutch the door handle tighter. Did she just compliment me?! Oh my gosh I wish I had it all on tape. This is never gonna happen again. I nod and am not even sure if I should thank her, she might think I’m too low if I thank her for that, that was definitely a compliment. I close the door and lock it, and when I turn around, she’s staring at the bag sitting on my desk. It’s the canvas tote bag, there goes my compliment, gone in a second.

“Go back inside, grab my black Louis Vuitton hand bag, borrow that,” what have you done with my boss?! “And throw this dust rug out,” there’s my girl.

I open her office door again and go inside to get the bag, I can’t wrap my head around this. Is this really happening? Is she high? What is going on? I see the bag on her shelf and grab it, it’s light, I open it and voila! It’s already empty, okay no need to declutter. I clutch it and leave the room. As soon as she sees me lock the door for the second time, she’s started making her way to the lift. I grab my tote and dump everything into the Louis Vuitton. I can’t believe she’s letting me borrow her bag, surely this has to be broken, maybe there’s a hole in it. I jump when I hear her voice interrupt my silent inspection.

“It’s in perfect condition. Don’t - ruin it,” yes, ma’am I gulp.

“Hi Sam,”

“Good evening Winnie,” he nods his head at her. “--hot damn!” he says when he looks to greet me, I nudge him with my shoulders and laugh. He opens the car for us and we drive to the venue. I open my iPad and scroll through the people that will be present at the meeting. Winnie doesn’t really give a damn about remembering names, you only ever need to know hers. Looks like Ken doll’s gonna be there too, that’s neat. Lowkey wished he was there too. I mentally smack myself, I’ve had way too much of him already, I’m being so selfish. Or am I? It’s not everyday you get to meet a guy like him. Okay focus, I scroll through the agenda and the topics that will be addressed for the meeting- hmm, so there’s an announcement. Oh boy, Winnie does not like to be surprised, this better be good. In a few minutes, we arrive and Sam opens the door for Winnie while I help myself out. The place is perfect, the ambiance warm and elegant. Sam parks the car and I follow behind Winnie. The host immediately ushers us to the table, located in one of the far corner of the restaurant, the perfect place for privacy.

As soon as we near the table, a man dressed in a very expensive suit stands up and lowers his shades, of course he’s wearing shades at night, and indoors, beside him is a statuesque blonde angel. I raise my eyebrows and lower them quickly as I whisper onto Winifred’s ears.

“Tony Stark of Stark Industries and Pepper Potts, the new CEO,” Winnie fakes a smile like I’m telling her something else as Tony removes his shades and the two of them hug, she hugs Pepper just after. He helps her to her seat, and before he sits on his, he gives me a once over. Okay, big guy. I speak onto Winnie’s ears like I’m her conscience, but instead of giving her advice on how to be a more decent human being, I’m telling her people’s profiles. By the time I’ve finished introducing everyone to her seated around the table silently, not wanting them to know Winnie is completely unaware of who a lot of them are, it’s probably been 20 minutes. Food has started being served, and I’m allowed myself a salad, before Winnie judges my eating habits. The last time she saw me eating, it was at my desk, sneaking bites of my cheeseburger, she looked like she wanted to puke.

“What’s the announcement Stark?” her voice is cold.

“Don’t wanna wait until dessert?” Stark replies.

“I don’t do dessert, sugar is the devil’s work.” Well Winnie, if you really wanna know what the devil’s work is, you might want to look in the mirror.

“Okay, I want to sponsor the View’s annual fashion ball.” I almost drop my fork, I immediately grab the glass and drink water, not wanting to be asked my opinion. Winnie’s paused, she’s silent, but she suddenly huffs, a small chuckle escaping from her lips.

“What do you want this year’s theme to be? Bolts and screws?” Stark’s the lead innovator for technological advancements, Winnie’s such a drag.

“I thought the Winnie could make fashion out of anything, bolts and screws too hard for you?” I can hear the mortal combat narrator saying “fight”. Tony raises his glass, Winnie smirks at him.

“Very well, what purpose does it serve to sponsor this year’s ball?”

“I’m venturing out into other things,”

“Fashion being one of them?”

“Winnie, when have I ever looked bad?”

“Well you did have this one time where you wore that ugly-”

“Besides the point,” I hide a giggle as I lowered my glass to continue munching on my greens. “I’m trying to reach out to new demographics, and it’s good PR, trying to fix last year’s bad run,” he continues chewing on his steak. Last year was a mess, his prototypes were stolen which was ironic considering his inventions were designed to ensure safety and security. Getting those stolen without the alarms going off in his own house, doesn’t really speak reliable. I already know Winnie’s gonna accept the offer, it’s her plan all along, she’s had one of Stark’s board members talk the idea to Stark, and Winnie uses drama to spark attention to her projects. Looks like Stark’s gonna be this year’s headliner. Tony bids a quick goodbye right after Winnie says yes and leaves Pepper to handle anything else, and the meeting continues and I’ve noticed Steve isn’t here yet, that’s not good, Winnie’s not gonna like that. Dessert’s already on the roll and I try to ignore Winnie’s glare when she sees the waiter put down a slice of cheesecake in front of me. I deserve this, let me be woman. As I take a chunk in, I hear one of the other people in the meeting ask Winnie.

“I heard your son’s in town, will he be attending the ball?” I immediately bite the spoon at the thought of him.

“Of course he would,” Winnie answers as a matter of factly.

“Any idea who his date might be?” my stomach drops, now that’s sad. He’s probably not gonna ask me, I mean who even am I? We’ve just met last night, and I can already see every hollywood tabloid making all sorts of nasty titles if he brought an unknown to the red carpet. Why am I even thinking about this? Of course he’s not gonna ask me, I’m a nobody, and hello? Earth to Y/N? We’ve known each other for what, two days?

“Probably the girl he was caught kissing by the paparazzi,” a woman from the other end of the table sneaks in. Wait what? Why that motherfucker, I knew it! He’s such a playboy, why did I not see that coming?

“Who? When?!” I hear Winnie, she’s shocked too. I fish for my phone, and immediately ask good ol’ google who exactly this girl is. I start typing his name.

“Her identity’s still a mystery to me, I thought you’d know Winnie. Looks like young Barnes is keeping secrets from his mother now,” oh you bet, he is, who could this woman be?! This morning?! He probably went out with someone before he came by Winnie’s office.

“It was just this morning, I saw the photos on Twitter too,” the guy chimes in. I’m scrolling rapidly on one of ET’s website, and I gasp. Winnie looks at me and raises her eyebrows, probably wishing I was dead for sneaking a gasp in between their conversation.

“Sorry! I don’t hiccup like normal people.” She rolls her eyes at me, I’m glad she let’s it go and immediately goes back with her conversation. I quickly exit my browser and put my phone in my bag. I’ve seen the photo, of Bucky and the girl he was kissing. She was wearing an orange camisole, denim jeans with her hair in a bun and her hands on Bucky’s shoulders. My heart jumps out of my body. Winnie can’t see that photo. I am dead. My face wasn’t seen, my back was turned to the camera, but I’m now time travelling through earlier events in my mind, did she know what I was wearing?! Okay, I came to her office, with the coats from Balmain, so I was covered, right? And when I excused myself out of the office, she didn’t even notice me that much since she was so focused on her dear Bucky. And now, I’m wearing this white off shoulder dress… Holy fuck, “Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting,” my jaw drops, her voice repeats through my head over and over again. She’s seen me, in those exact same clothes, in that exact same hairstyle. I wished I was a different skin color right now, that would’ve saved my ass. But no, my palms suddenly feel sweaty. I’m thinking of what I could do. This is not happening, not yet. Oh my gosh, I can’t even think straight. Great, now I have to keep Winnie from ever seeing those paparazzi photos, which would be fucking hard because she’s got eyes everywhere! I’m surprised she hasn’t even seen it.

“If she’s got her back turned, what good would it be for me to look at it?” WHAT? I’m gonna start putting fruits on the altars of every religion I know. I’m thankfully confused, I have no idea what just happened. Why does it feel like I’m gonna get away with this? “She’s probably just one of my son’s models.” Okay this is gonna sound very contradictory, but 1) models? She thinks I’m a model? No wait, she hasn’t seen the photos; 2) his models?!

But being in this situation, sitting next to Winifred, iPad on my lap recording the meeting for me to type the transcript on my laptop later, Bucky’s sort of fading away, he sure is an eye candy… well, an actual candy… But my fear of Winnie definitely defeats dating him. These two Barnes are pulling me on two opposite directions, and I’m whacked not knowing where to go, I’m not so excited about meeting Mr. Barnes now, which direction is he gonna pull me into? I try not to even imagine. My heart is still pounding like crazy, Winifred wins - for now. Maybe try not to walk and kiss him in public, Y/N? That’d be great.

“Well Winnie, looks like the tabloids are not gonna let that paparazzi photo slide,” Pepper chirps in. No Pepper, shhh, be on my side, I thought you were an angel? I’m having your wings cut. She looks like she enjoys this topic. A voice jolts my body just as I try to grab my glass to have another drink.

“One week and I’m already the talk of the town.” I pull my head up slowly as if a camera’s zooming in to capture my blank expression. I’m wiped clean, how many emotional roller coasters do I have to experience? I want out. Of course, he’s here, of course.

“James!” Winnie kisses him on the cheek as he takes a seat just in front of me, great. Steve quickly follows behind him. “Steve,” Winnie grunts, “where have the two of you been? We’ve already finished the meeting!’

“Had something to turn in the office, I borrowed Steve for a bit,” Bucky replied as he gave me a wink, I kick him from under the table and gave him a quick stare. He looks to his side laughing. Steve takes the seat beside Winnie.

“Learn to look at the time James, and Y/N” I look up way too fast, “just email the transcript to Steve after you’ve done it.” I nod robotically.

“So who is it?” Pepper’s voice hums in the air.

“Who is?” Bucky answers, as he calls a waiter.

“The girl in the pap photo.” Pepper smirks.

“They’re that fast?” I’m about to burst into flames, in 6 months, I thought I’ve gone through the worst working in the View, but this boy right in front of me, has been giving me both heaven and hell. He really wants me to get in trouble.

“Stop making it longer than it has to be,” Steve interrupts, I look at him and see him smiling right at me. Oh. My. Gosh. He. Knows. I feel like my makeup has peeled off my face.

“Why don’t you guys just mind your own business?” he laughs as he points an accusing finger at Steve and shakes his head at Pepper.

“Guess Bucky’s already booked for this year’s ball,”

“Only if she agrees,” Bucky replies as I feel his feet playfully swinging at mine underneath the table. Oh my, here we go.

PART 4

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amelia-blackshepherd · 6 years

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She Likes Italian

Guess who wrote another story. This long weekend is really killing my writers block. Anyway this story was inspired by a desire me and my friend had during the last episode. Deluca basically says he is interested after finding out Maggie tried to hook him and Amelia up. But he doesn’t know her and Owen are back together.

Peirce seemed to be fighting every single decision I made and accusing me of not doing what was best for my patient, which was very un-Maggie like. I tried to let it slide as much as I could for Amelia’s sake. Plus, there was no reason to blow up at her just because she was having an off day.

Amelia’s voice rings through the OR during one of Peirce and I’s argument about what was right for my patient. I tell her that there is no obvious active bleeding, thinking she was just popping in to check on what time I might be finishing up for the night, so we could go home.

But it quickly becomes clear she is here for another reason, “I won’t keep you. I’m just wondering if I should expect anymore romantic advances today, or if doctor Link was it?” My eyes shift to her, uncertain what she means, another guy hit on her… what did she say. Are we not in an exclusive relationship like I thought. I thought that came with the strings, the strings that we both agreed to. Out of the corner of my eye I feel Maggie’s eyes on me, a look of shame from being caught in them.

Then Amelia says something about Peirce trying to ‘cram Deluca down her throat earlier.’ This is news to me, what is happening. I can feel my jealousy rising as I look over at Deluca who from what I can see of him under the mask looks excited by this new information. I know the longer I look at Deluca the more my jealous will grow, so I look back down at my patient deciding to focus on him instead.

Amelia leaves shortly after that, Peirce is shifting nervously on her feet clearing uncomfortable with the situation she has created. Then Deluca clears his throat and repeats Amelia’s words, “Cram me down her throat?”

Maggie tries to end the conversation saying, “Look we have an active bleed here. Can we focus.” Which is a plan I am all for. So, we focus on the bleed for a while and then I hear his voice again.

“So, like, when you suggested me to Dr. Shepherd, what exactly did she say.” I shake my head not lifting my eyes from the body I am working on. Peirce on the other hand, looks up at Deluca without responding to him, so Andrew continues, “Like do you think she is interested cause I mean it is not like I haven’t thought about it. Especially with all the time we spend together on neuro cases.”

My voice cuts through the air like a knife, “Deluca. How about you focus on the patient and less on my wife.” I can almost hear the growl in my own voice, so I turn my attention back to the patient, but first I scan my eyes over Maggie, hoping she can tell just how upset I am at her.

“Oh… ah, sorry Dr. Hunt. I didn’t realize. I mean I didn’t know you two were back together. I’ll be quiet now and get back to work.” Deluca quickly stammers, which to be fair technically she isn’t my wife anymore. But that doesn’t mean I want other men hitting on her or drooling over her.

The rest of that surgery drags by. Deluca doesn’t mention anything else about Amelia, which I am glad about, and I try to make things better with Peirce, but she is still acting weird. Like she doesn’t trust me, or she thinks some little thing is going to come up and I am going to go running off forgetting all about Amelia. Which of course wouldn’t happen. I am not going anywhere.

Later in the ER I see Amelia by the desk, she is talking with Deluca while holding an iPad in her hand, probably reviewing a patient’s chart I tell myself. Although I can’t help but feel the familiar green-eyed monster building inside me.

I am debating going over there, but I know Amelia won’t be happy if I march over their and get all predatorial. But I can’t help this feeling inside me as I watch her and Deluca standing suspiciously close talking and laughing. Just when I am about to head over there and do some damage control, I feel a hand drop onto my shoulder.

I pause and turn to find the new ‘Ortho God’ aka Dr. Link, standing beside me. I am sizing him up, seeing if I should view him as some kind of threat. He doesn’t seem to notice the less-then-friendly look on my face, or if he does he ignores it.

“I guess Peirce was right. She does like Italian, too bad for us eh man?” The new guy says, acting like we are pals.

He clearly doesn’t know who I am, or rather who I am to Amelia and I am just about to set him straight when something he just said clicks in my brain. “What do you mean she likes Italian… Peirce told you that?” I can hear the insecurity in my own voice and just hope this new showboat of an Ortho doc doesn’t notice it too.

“Yeah man. This morning after I walked by her, Dr. Grey, and Dr. McHottie over there.” He says gesturing towards Amelia, causing my fists to clench on instinct. “Peirce came after me and told me I should ask her out, told me she liked Italian, she meant the food but clearly that goes for who she likes to have in bed too.” He jokes again looking over at Amelia and Deluca. “But damn, I bet she is good in bed. I asked her out earlier.” He tells me, I don’t like him. Nobody should talk about Amelia, MY Amelia that way. He continues talking, clearly too busy undressing her with his eyes to notice how close he is to me killing him, “She didn’t exactly say no, but she didn’t say yes either. I think I can convince her though.” He says with what seems like his typical cocky smile.

“I think you should stop there and walk away now.” I say my teeth grinding together as I try and control myself from hitting him so hard we need to page plastics.

He finally seems to realize I am not his buddy and that I certainly don’t want to talk to him about this. “Woah. Easy there man. What do you have a little crush on her or something? I was just saying she is hot and likely very good in bed, I mean I kind of have a gift at knowing who the freaks in the sheets are.” He says so condescending and just so smugly.

I can’t take it anymore, I give him one hard shove, causing him to tumble back a few steps. “I said stop talking about her.”

He is a fighter, I’ll give him that as he is instantly closing the distance between us and he shoves me back, “Back off man. I was just making conversation. She is just some chick.”

Before I realize what I am doing I feel my fist connect with his jaw and then my other to his gut, causing him to bend over covering the areas I just hit. “She is not just some chick, she is my wife. And if you ever speak about her that way again, you are going to wish you never came to Seattle.”

Amelia and Deluca come running over, Amelia tells Deluca to check on Link, while she grabs my arm and pulls me away from him. I am still fuming when she pulls me into a nearby staircase. I am ready to defend my actions, that is until I meet her eyes and see the fire behind them. In an instant all that adrenaline and anger disappear, and I suddenly feel like a child about to get in touble.

“Owen! What the hell was that?” She asks, her tone dead steady, void of any emotion which tells me exactly how mad she is.

“I… I can explain. See he was… he said… he said stuff about you that… well he shouldn’t have been said. I warned him to stop.” I lamely defend.

Her eyes soften slightly, “Owen…” I can hear the disappointment in her voice, “Just because he said some comment about me doesn’t mean you should punch him. Now I am going to go make sure you didn’t give him a concussion or a brain bleed.” She says as she heads towards the door.

“He said you were a freak in the sheets.” I say, hating myself for repeating his disrespectful words.

She stops and turns around, “We can talk about this later. At home.” She informs me, clearly still upset by my actions, but before she goes she turns around one more time, “And besides he isn’t exactly wrong, now is he?” She sultrily replies as she looks at me under her lashes and throws me a wink, before slipping out the door, leaving me alone in the staircase.

#omelia fanfic #omelia fanfiction #maggie peirce #andrew deluca #owen hunt #amelia shepherd

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winchesterprincessbride · 6 years

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Worlds Collide-Part 2

Part 1 My Master List

A/N: This story is a Marvel/Supernatural crossover and a collaboration between me and my sister in all the ways that matter @kittenofdoomage. I have been annoying the shit out of her talking about this thing NONSTOP, but she likes me so she’s cool with it.

Ten Months Later

Two weeks had passed since your last case and you were enjoying some downtime with Sam. It was nice to just spend time with him and not have to focus on the next thing that was trying to kill you. The two of you stayed up late sharing stories about your childhoods. Sam told you all about growing up as a hunter, and leaving the life before John’s disappearance and Jess’ death sucked him back in.

You shared the loneliness of spending your life in the foster care system, bouncing from house to house, never fitting in anywhere, and always trying to hide your abilities. Finally when you were fifteen and considered pretty much “unadoptable”, a kindly couple fostered you and were in the process of adopting you. The Bradshaws gave you the kind of stability you had only dreamed of.

Then Mrs. Bradshaw got possessed by a demon and killed Mr. Bradshaw and tried to kill you. Your heart broke when you used your powers and electrocuted her. You hit the road and immediately hooked up with a hunter who explained to you what her black eyes and complete personality change meant. And then your eyes were opened to what was REALLY out there and you began to hunt full time, using your abilities for good instead of giving tiny shocks to the bullies in your foster homes.

The three of you were sitting at the table in the war room playing poker to pass the time and Cas had popped in. He observed in silence for a time, his face unreadable as he obviously tried to pick up the game. “Do you know how to play?” you asked the angel.

He shook his head. “I’ve never had the opportunity.”

You patted the chair next to you. “Come, sit. I’ll teach you, it’s fun. I bet you're a good bluffer. You have a great poker face.”

“Bluffer?”

Dean snorted. “She’s gonna teach you how to lie, Cas.”

The angel looked alarmed. “I don’t think I……” An insistent knocking on the bunkers heavy front door startled everyone and Cas stopped talking. Sam and Dean instantly jumped to their feet, throwing down their cards and pulling their guns from the back of their waistbands. Cas was up out of his seat, angel blade drawn and at the ready.

“Someone’s at the door? Does that ever happen?” you asked tentatively, unsure if anyone else actually knew where this place was.

“We’re off the beaten path. People don’t exactly come here trying to sell us Girl Scout cookies,” Dean replied, eyes never leaving the door, his finger on the trigger of his Colt.

The knocking came again. “Should we answer it?” you said. “If it were something trying to kill us I don’t think they’d knock.”

Sam nodded slowly and you took the lead, walking up the stairs, with Sam and Dean right behind you. Pulling open the heavy door, you were surprised to see a helicopter in the driveway, partially obscured by the two people in front of you. Standing in the doorway was an attractive redheaded woman dressed in all black who looked vaguely familiar. Next to her was a muscular man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

You recognized him instantly even though he wasn’t wearing his trademark red, white and blue suit. Your eyes widened and you pulled back a little, fingers lightly gripping the door.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N?” the woman asked, her voice a husky purr.

“Who wants to know?” Dean snapped, standing behind you, unable to see the visitors with the light filtering in the doorway from outside.

“Dean,” you hushed, not taking your eyes off of the visitors. “Don’t you recognize him?” You stood back, gesturing for them to enter. “Come in, please.” The blond man grinned good-naturedly, stepping inside and offering his hand to Dean, who was struggling to pick his jaw up off of the floor.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he said. “Steve Rogers. Is this a good time?”

Dean stared at him, unable to process what he was seeing in front of him. “Holy crap, Sammy. It’s Captain-freaking America,” he whispered in awe.

You had invited them into the library to sit and talk. “This is our friend Castiel,” you told them, gesturing in Cas’ direction. Cas was staring intently at the Captain, a perplexed look on his face. “Clearly you know who we are.”

“Agent Romanoff,” the woman replied. “Nat,” she added as she turned to Sam and Dean. “The Winchester brothers. And Cap’s reputation proceeds him as usual.”

“Call me Steve, please,” Captain America said, looking directly at Dean, who was beaming like a tween meeting Justin Bieber.

“Okay, then, Steve. Why are you here? What do you want with us?” Sam asked quietly, distrust evident in his voice. He was standing right behind you, looming over your shoulder like he had to protect you from them.

“Are you a shapeshifter?” Cas asked Cap suddenly.

“Am I a what?” Steve looked really confused and everyone looked at Castiel in concern.

“You are at least 90 years old,” he started to point out, “but you have the appearance of being no more than 30. So, are you a shapeshifter?”

“He’s not a shapeshifter, Cas. I’ll show you the comics later. It’s all good, man,” Dean informed him helpfully and the angel frowned, apparently unsure of the reply.

“How did you know he was 90 years old? That was pretty specific,” Natasha asked, her face a mask of curiosity.

“I am an angel of the Lord. I know many things,” Cas said matter-of-factly before anyone could stop him.

“Excuse me? You think you’re an angel?” Nat said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Sam held out a placating hand. “Listen, guys. I’m sure you have seen some weird stuff in your line of work. We have too. You came all the way out here to find us, so you must have some intel on us, and know what we do.”

“The monster thing? That’s not really true, is it?” Cap questioned intently, his eyes on you.

“Every freaking word. Vampires, werewolves, witches, and all that scary shit that gave you nightmares as a kid, it’s all real,” you told them with a sigh.

��And demons, and angels and God. All Real. We were just as shocked to find out aliens were real. We’ve never run into them before,” Dean said honestly.

“Wow. Tony’s gonna have a fit when he hears all this,” Nat said to Cap.

Sam perked up at that. “Tony Stark?”

“I need to show you something.” Nat pulled out a small Ipad and set a video to play. It was from the town in Texas where they had fought the vampires. There had been a big showdown with the surviving six in an abandoned grocery store in town where they were holed up. The video that played clearly showed Y/N using her powers and pulling lightening in and blowing out the front windows so they could storm the building. Nat stopped the video.

“We also have footage of the four of you from other places around the country. It caught Tony’s attention. He wants to meet you and your friends,” Cap said quietly.

“Someone filmed me using my powers?” you said nervously. “Who took this video? I’m so careful...”

“Tony Stark wants to meet us? Why?” Sam asked excitedly, calming a little when you glared at him. The opportunity to meet the famous Tony Stark would usually give you a little booster but knowing people had filmed you? Seen you use your powers? It just made you worried about the entire situation.

“He hasn’t given us any of that information,” Steve explained. “He just asked us to fly out and invite you back to Avengers Tower. Said he’d come himself but…”

Nat smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Steve’s better at this.”

“Avengers Tower! In New York?” The laughter bubbling in your chest caught you by surprise at the thought of anyone wanted to meet you. There were plenty other special people out there, right? “You don’t expect us to come on that helicopter of yours, do you?” You pointed at the elder Winchester. “Dean doesn’t fly.”

Dean looked mortified, shaking his head furiously. “Hell, no. Can I drive there?”

“So are you all willing to come?” Nat asked. You looked at Sam, and he nodded.

“Cas?” you asked the angel, wanting at least a little backup. Okay, they were the Avengers, the good guys but all too often you’d seen good guys go bad when they didn’t understand something.

“I will go of course,” he replied and you smiled, nodding in relief before turning to the most anxious member of the small group. Dean was already at the point of sweating over the helicopter.

“Dean?” you asked softly.

“As long as I don’t have to fly,” he pointed at you, “I’m in.”

“What about you, babe? I know you’re not keen on showing people what you can do, so it’s your call.” Sam was smiling when he said this, and you knew he would go along with whatever you wanted.

You held your hands out, grinning to cover up your nerves. “How can I say no to Tony Stark?”

“So it really would be easier if we flew. The ‘copter is much faster than a regular plane. It will have us to New York in an hour and a half, tops. Tony always seems to know everything about everyone, Dean, so he had Dr. Banner made a hypospray that will put you to sleep for out the duration of the flight,” Steve told them, watching Dean for his reaction and he frowned, clearly uncomfortable with leaving his Baby behind.

“That’s a good idea. Do you really want to bring the Impala to New York City where she could get damaged or stolen?” Sam asked his brother, injecting concern into his voice as he placed one hand on Dean’s shoulder and the elder Winchester sighed.

The best way to motivate Dean was to threaten his Baby with bodily harm. “Fine. Let’s do that then.”

“Okay, everyone. You have ten minutes to pack what you need. Then we move out,” Steve ordered in an authoritative voice but there was still a smile on his face and everyone jumped to comply.

As Dean and Sam walked you down the hall to your room, Dean’s face lit up with excitement. “Man, Cap is so cool. And Iron Man? This is going to be awesome!” He disappeared into his room and you looked up at Sam, wishing his hopeful grin would make you feel better.

“It is going to be awesome,” he reassured you, parroting Dean’s words softly. “We’re with you. The whole way.”

Part 3

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allenmendezsr · 4 years

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Hft2: Build 2wice The Muscle

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/hft2-build-2wice-the-muscle-2/

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