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#it’s growing more and more and more and more unsafe each passing year as a trans and queer person

loulouwrites · 1 month

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CIRCUMSTANCE . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie solomons always swore he was not suited to be any woman's husband - but a terrible circumstance has him questioning that. warnings: pregnancy, angst, mention of abotion, unsafe abortion, swearing (obviously), unedited word count: 2.9k A/N: this is a prequel to home but it can be read as a standalone :)

The first day she had been sick, she assumed she was still hungover from her birthday the night before. She had celebrated with all of her friends, who had taken advantage of the bill being footed by her 'secret lover', ordering enough gin to make even the hardest drinker queasy the next day.

The second day she had been sick, a pit formed in her stomach, a small, but haunting, realisation creeping into her mind - but she tried not to ponder on it.

She continued her week as normal. She continued to go to work, getting up from her desk every few minutes to sneakily be sick in the alley outside. She would go home and smile through her queasiness, insisting to her mother that she was just wasn't too hungry lately.

When following week came around, and she was being sick every morning, and her menstrual cycle was over one month late, she had to acknowledge that seed of doubt in her mind - she was pregnant.

It was a terrible thing to discover. An unmarried woman, pregnant with a child that belonged to a man that most agreed was terrible, was not how she had envisioned her life would turn out. She had always imagined the moment she discovered she was with child would be a joyous experience - she would be married, living in a large house with a foyer and garden with roses - she wasn't getting any of that now. Not with Alfie Solomons' child growing inside of her.

She would be lying if she had never envisioned a nice life with the gangster. It was a silly thing to think about, and she only allowed to imagine it in the dark of night, when her thoughts were only her own. She would often wonder if he felt anything for her, or if she was just a convenience for him.

He had hired her as his secretary about one year ago, but they had known each other for longer. More women were entering the workforce and he thought it would be beneficial to have one in the 'bakery', claiming women had a better attention to detail than any of the men he worked with. It hadn't taken long for him to push her against his desk and lift up her skirt, and she had been more than happy to let him.

That's all it was, really. She had never seen him outside of work, she had never been to his house, nor had he been to hers, their little affair only existed in the small confines in his office, when everybody else had gone home, and she had been perfectly content with their arrangement.

But now, she was pregnant.

And he was going to fucking kill her.

Her mother breathed a sigh of disappointment as she leaned against the kitchen bench in the small, dull kitchen, watching her daughter with a look of disgust as she heaved into the kitchen sink. It had been over a week of her daughter skipping meals and trying to quietly throw up in the bathroom, and it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on - she had been through it herself, after all.

"I hope he's planning on marrying you," she said with her arms crossed against her chest.

"Excuse me?" Her daughter said through deep breaths, lifting her head from the sink to frown at her mother.

"I'm no fool, and neither are you, we both know what's going on here," the older woman walked to stand beside her daughter. "Who's the father?"

The younger woman froze.

Of course her mother knew.

She knew everything.

"I haven't told him yet."

"That's not what I asked."

Her daughter sighed, and lifted herself completely from the sink, the sickness seemingly disappearing in that moment. Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked at her mother.

It had been just the two of them supporting her and her siblings for so long. Her father had passed suddenly when she was a younger, and her mother had began working as a seamstress to make ends meet, and as the oldest daughter, she had started working as soon as she was old enough to help support the family.

She couldn't help but feel guilty. Her mum had sacrificed so much, all for her daughter to grow up and get pregnant to a man who she was certain didn't care if she lived or died.

"I'm sorry, mum," she breathed out, the tears now freely dripping onto her puffy cheeks.

The woman sighed heavily, making no move to comfort her distressed daughter. "You will tell whoever it is, and he will marry you," she turned to leave the kitchen, "and if he doesn't - don't bother coming back here.

The bakery was buzzing with life the next day, there didn't seem to be spare moment to even take a breath. Workers approached her desk almost constantly, asking about their pay, and threatening strike action 'if Solomons didn't pay what he owed'. This wasn't rare, her workday was always busy, but every interaction was making her want to break down in tears.

She hadn't seen Alfie. He had been in his office when she arrived and hadn't left all day, despite it nearing six o'clock in the evening. She noticed Ollie giving her concerned looks whenever he passed by, but she would avoid his gaze, her eyes trained on her typewriter or the various documents spread across her desk.

A feeling of dread curdled in her stomach as more people left the building, throwing down their aprons on their way out. She would usually look forward to this time, when everybody else would clear out, and Alfie would call her into his office but this day it did nothing but cause panic to envelop her.

"Are you okay?" She looked up to see Ollie stood at her desk, his apron gone and his black coat held in the crook of his elbow. She muttered something nonsensical, that she was fine, just not feeling well, but the look the man offered told her he didn't believe it. "You don't have to stay, you know?" She just gave him a confused look, and he sighed as he continued. "Alfie isn't going to sack you or anything...if you...say no, you know?"

She scoffed at his words, his misplaced concern endearing him even more to her. "Thanks, Ollie. I know that."

He didn't say anything else, knocking his fist on her desk gently before heading for the exit.

And then there was two.

She could have sworn he was watching Ollie leave, because as soon as the sound of the heavy door slamming shut rang through the now empty building, he was calling her name.

Every step to his office felt heavy. It was as if her body was telling her to just turn around and run.

Run away.

You'll get another job, just leave now.

But she ignored the protests of her body, and the screaming thoughts in her brain, slowly opening the heavy door and stepping to his dimly lit office.

"Y'alright, love?" He said as soon as the door shut behind her. He was sat on his chair, his legs up on the desk - so nonchalant, so unaware.

Bastard, she thought.

She walked to his desk, but rather than approaching him as she usually would, she sat down in one of the chairs on the other side, instead, placing her shaking hands on her lap.

He raised a brow at her actions, swinging his feet down onto the floor and leaning forward, his forearms resting on the desk, his hands clasped together as he studied her.

A sheen of sweat formed on her forehead as she sat under his gaze, her eyes darting everywhere in the room in order to avoid his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, summoning every bit of courage she still held.

"Have you ever thought of marriage?"

Her question caused him to sit up a bit straighter in his seat, his head cocking to the side and a smirk playing on his lips.

"You proposing, love?" He joked, his smiled fading when she shot him an unimpressed look, her lips pressed into a thin line. "No," he cleared his throat, "ain't for me, all that."

She nodded in response, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"So you never want that?" He just shrugged. "Under no circumstances?"

"There is not a circumstance in the world that would get me to do that, love, no."

An uncomfortable silence filled the office. She had returned to looking at everything but the man sat across from her, and he continued to stare at her with a frown on his face.

She felt her chest tightening, her breaths coming out shorter as his words replayed in her head.

Not a circumstance in the world.

He called her name, rousing her from her thoughts and she stood up from her seat.

"Are you okay? You don't look well," he said in a tone that she would consider caring if it had come from anyone but him.

"I'm sorry, Alfie, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, I think I should go home."

"Of course, love," he nodded, beginning to stand but she briskly left the room before he could. "You be careful," he called after her, not sure she even heard.

There were days Ollie really enjoyed his job. The days where everything went right and nobody got punched, or killed, were considered goof days. But, the days that went wrong, always seemed to go disastrously wrong, and they usually started with him giving his boss some bad news - which is exactly what he was about to do.

"Are you goin' to say somethin' or are you just goin' to stand there like a lost fucking lemon?"

Ollie cringed at his boss' voice, his eyes trained on the cabinet in the corner of the room.

"Ollie, I swear to fucking-"

Ollie spoke the secretary's name abruptly, causing Alfie to pause mid sentence, relaxing in his chair. "I heard back from the men you got to follow her."

It had been three days since she had been to work. She had rang in sick the first day, and seeing as how she acted the night before, Alfie was inclined to believe her, but when she failed to check in the following day, he had ordered some of his best men to 'check in on her.'

"They saw her at Mrs Levy's..." He trailed off, watching as his boss' expression went from confused, to understanding, to fury.

"When?" There was a darkness to Alfie's tone, though his posture was relaxed, Ollie knew better, this was the calm before the storm - and he was about to bare the brunt of whatever was about to happen.

"Just now. It's the first time she's left her flat in days, they sent someone straight away-"

Alfie didn't stay to hear another word, flying out of his chair before Ollie had the chance to say another word, and Ollie breathed a sigh of relief.

He also said a prayer for Alfie's poor secretary.

Mrs Levy was not the kindest woman. She had helped many girls in a similar position, but she had never claimed to do it out of kindness. If you asked her, she would say it was a way to save the reputation of girls in her community and an excellent money maker.

The young woman looked around the bedroom she was in, it was clean, if a little cluttered. There was a table next to the bed with various instruments laid out, little metal pieces that made her stomach turn if she looked at them for too long.

Mrs Levy had already explained everything to her - what would happen, how it would feel, and what could happen after - which did nothing to quell her nerves.

She had asked for a moment alone, and Mrs Levy had rolled her eyes, telling her it would be extra if she stayed there too long. She sat on the bed, her shoes laid on the floor, and her hand resting on her stomach. She didn't feel an overwhelming sense of loss about what was about to happen, but it did make her sad, and just for the moment, she allowed herself to think about the 'what ifs'.

What if she had told Alfie she was pregnant?

Would he have changed his stance on marriage?

Would he have given her the money for this himself?

Would he have confessed his undying love for her and dropped to his knees in front of her?

She scoffed to herself, shaking her head to rid the fantasies from her mind. There was no point of dwelling on it now, it was done, and he would never know. She would return to work in a few days and claim she had just had a stomach bug.

It would all just be a bad memory.

She was about to call Mrs Levy back into the room when a crash sounded from outside the bedroom door.

"You get back here, right now, you little-"

Mrs Levy's voice became background noise when the door swung open, and none other than Alfie Solomons blew through the doorway, pistol in hand.

"You and I need to talk, love," he said, causing her eyes to widen in dear. He looked at her confusedly before following her gaze to the pistol held in his hand. "Fuckin' hell, I'm not...I wasn't..." he huffed a sigh, tucking the gun into his belt and holding his hands up in surrender.

"You can't be here," Mrs Levy's voice cut in. "Get out!"

"Oh fuck off, you ol' bat," Alfie rolled his eyes, swinging an arm out as if to bat her away. "C'mon," he held an arm out to the woman who sat on the bed, her eyes wide and her hands shaking.

The car was silent as Alfie drove through the streets of London, the only sounds coming from the shouts of pedestrians as they avoided the car that sped past them, narrowly missing them as they tried to cross the road.

"How did you know?" She asked meekly, her eyes downcast.

"Had my men follow you when you didn't show up for work two days in a row - you're sacked by the way," he said simply, as if he were discussing the weather.

"What? Alfie-"

"Well you can't be workin' now anyway," he shrugged. "With you being...y'know," he gestured a hand to her stomach, "wouldn't be right to make ya sit in a distillery all day."

"I need to work now more than ever, Alfie," she protested, turning her body slightly to face him as best as she could in the cramped vehicle. "I need money if I'm going to be raising a child alone."

Alfie's head snapped towards her, a frown on his face. "Who said anythin' about raisin' it alone?"

"Really?" She raised a brow at him, as if she were waiting for him to burst out in laughter. "You said it yourself, Alfie, under no circumstances would you get married."

"Is that what all this is about? You skive work and go to see that daft bint because of I said I didn't want to get married in passing."

"Mrs Myers is not a-"

"She's killed more people than I have, love."

"That's not funny, Alfie," she admonished, crossing her arms across her chest. "So you're saying you would get married?"

"No," he replied. "But I ain't sayin you'd have to do it alone. I paid for your birthday night out but you don't think I'd pay for my own fuckin' child?"

"I can't go home, Alfie. My mum said-"

"Fuck that daft cow," he pointed a finger in her direction, he had known her mother for years, and he had hated her for just as long. "And you will be living with me."

"Unmarried and cohabitating? Are you trying to get me ostracised?"

"You should have thought about that before you let me get ya pregnant, darlin'," he looked at her with a toothy grin. Her face twisted in confusion when she looked out of the window, taking in her surroundings.

"Where the fuck are we?" She asked, looking at the big white houses with a mixture of uncertainty and wonder.

"We are home," he told her plainly, parking the car in front of what she considered to be the nicest house on the street. She wordlessly exited the vehicle, following behind him as he ascended the steps and opened the black door, holding it open for her.

"Better than your mum's flat, ain't it?" He threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his side as if the entire situation wasn't an absolute nightmare.

She hummed in response, taking in the foyer, the walls were bare, and the wallpaper was dated, but that could all be fixed - and she looked forward to doing it.

"If I were to consider marriage," Alfie spoke from her side. "I would only consider it with you," he pulled away, clearing his throat. "Let me give you a tour."

Alfie wasn't lying. He proposed to her when she was four months pregnant, right after they felt their baby kick for the first time. They married one week later, a grand affair considering it was on such short notice.

Their son was born exactly five months after their wedding, in their shared bedroom.

thanks for reading! for anybody who has read more of my stories do you think they're too similar plot-wise? i enjoy writing angst a lot but get scared that my fics are too samey lmao. so if you'd like to see me write something different pls lmk

#alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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gallusrostromegalus · 8 months

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AEIWAM: What happened (and when) to cause The Divorce between Yamamoto and Tsubaki?

They actually broke up mostly for political reasons! Yamamoto started off rather revolutionary in terms of governance, but circumstances made him grow rigid and paranoid to the point where he fundamentally changed as a person, and Tsubaki no longer recognized him as the man she married.

There were other problems- neither of them could have children, and while they didn't blame each other, it did cause much stress and sadness. Yamamoto grew increasingly paranoid about political machinations and assassins to the point where Tsubaki began to feel unsafe in her own home, and Tsubaki was gone more and more and longer and longer on "diplomatic missions" and becoming friends with people Yamamoto was sure were taking advantage of her good nature and his political position by extension.

The final straw was his capitulation to the noble houses in letting them hold and pass down the captain's post of some of the divisions, instead of making it a pure meritocracy like he had promised her, and she could not/would not understand why.

Legally speaking, the divorce was quite amicable - he let her take whatever she wanted, and she didn't want much. He founded the shinigami academy partially because he needed properly trained shinigami, and mostly to have something to do because he miserable, and she left to start and run The Greatest (and only fully unionized) Whorehouse in the Rukongai.

Their paths would not cross again for some 800 years, until one of her employees accidentally wins the 11th division's annual ranking tournament.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #the answer to this is actually major spoilers #feel free to as for details im short answering to clear my inbox a bit

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raaorqtpbpdy · 9 days

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(Not so) Imaginary Friend

A young Tucker Foley befriends a yeti.

For the Prompt: A young Tucker has accidentally befriended a Yeti of the far frozen. As the years go by, the yeti keeps trying to leave messages for Tucker but Tucker's father tries to put a stop to their interactions, stating Tucker is simply "too old to be playing with imaginary friends" [from Shinx]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for unsafe parenting on the Fenton's part, and uncompassionate parenting on the Foley's part. Basically questionable parenting choices all the way around.]

Tucker was six the first time he met the yeti. Even at that age, he'd known Amity Park wasn't a completely normal town. He was excited, because it was the first snow day of first grade, and his dad had agreed to take him over to his friend Danny's house to play.

When they got there, Danny's older sister Jazz had opened the door and let Tucker inside. She said her parents were downstairs and not to bother them, and Tucker said goodbye to his dad and sprinted in to find Danny. When they saw each other, the two of them ran full-force at each other, slamming into a hug at top speed. It probably would have been smarter not to do that on the stairs to the second floor, but they were none-the-worse for wait after tumbling down a few steps and laughed it off.

Tucker had been all but literally jumping up and down as he waited for Danny to finish putting on his warm clothes so they could go out into the back yard and build a snow monster. A snow monster was like a snowman, except way way cooler, and instead of a carrot nose, it had baby-carrot teeth. The Fentons never had full-sized carrots, anyway.

When they ran outside, they offered to let Jazz join in, but she said she would rather stay inside and read. Tucker and Danny had only gotten up to the letter M in their class, but they were in first grade, and Jazz was in third grade, so she knew all the letters already. Tucker was excited to learn all the letters, but he liked math even better.

The two of them played for hours. They built an awesome snow monster. They had a snowball fight. And then, there was a loud sound from inside the house. It was a sort of whirring humming noise that grew louder by the second, and green spots started to appear in the air.

Tucker was two distracted to see what happened to Danny, but when he looked over, his friend was lying in the snow, looking like he was dead. Tucker ran to him, but he couldn't decide if he should be more afraid of Danny passing out unexpectedly, or of the green spots in the air that were slowly but surely growing wider and wider.

He held Danny close against his chest, but didn't take his eyes off the nearest green spot. Soon, it was as big as Tucker was, and although it stayed green around the edges, Tucker could see more snow on the other side, but different snow. He could see mountains and rolling hills of white that were definitely not Danny's backyard.

Then, he saw a snow monster. A real one. This one was covered in white fur, its horns were bone and not sticks, and its teeth were definitely not baby carrots. Tucker's eyes widened and he held Danny tighter in his fear as he tried to scramble away.

The snow monster stopped without warning, and turned its head to look at Tucker.

"Please don't hurt me!" Tucker shouted at the top of his lungs. He didn't know if it would work, but his mom told him that if he said please he could get almost anything he wanted, and he really wanted the snow monster to not hurt him.

"Why would I hurt you?" the snow monster asked.

Tucker was surprised to hear it speak. It had a gentle, masculine voice that eased Tucker's fears almost as much as his words.

"Is something the matter with your friend?" the snow monster asked.

"I don't know what happened. He just fell asleep in the snow, and he won't wake up!"

"I know some medicine," the snow monster offered. "Maybe I can help."

"Are you a doctor?" Tucker asked, suddenly afraid again.

The snow monster laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm just a medic, and an apprentice one, at that. May I help?"

Tucker looked between the snow monster and his unconscious friend with apprehension. It didn't look like Danny was breathing, and he wasn't supposed to bother Danny's parents while they were working in the lab. That humming noise was so loud now that Tucker couldn't think.

"Okay, please help him!" Tucker shouted finally.

His mother always told him not to shout too much because it bothered people, but he didn't think the snow monster would be able to hear him if he didn't shout.

The snow monster didn't need to shout though. His voice cut right through the electronic hum like it fell silent the moment he opened his mouth.

"Alright, I will," he agreed, and stepped through the green spot.

Carefully, the snow monster took Danny away from Tucker and gently felt Danny's forehead and checked the color of his tongue, and so forth. Tucker wasn't really sure what he was doing, actually.

"My name is Blizzard," said the snow monster. "I live in a place called the Far Frozen. What's your name?"

"My name is Tucker Foley and I live at 2-2-1-7 Woodsboro Drive," Tucker recited. "And that is Danny. He lives in that house."

He pointed to the Fenton house. His parents had made him memorize his address in case he got lost, he also knew both their phone numbers, and the Fenton's home phone, just in case. Tucker was very good at memorizing numbers.

"It's nice to meet you, Tucker," Blizzard said kindly. "If I ever want to write you a letter, I'll know where to send it. As for your friend here, it doesn't seem like he has hypothermia, or anything like that. It looks as though he's reacting to all the ectoplasm in the air."

"The what?"

"All those green spots and the holes opening up to different places, they're releasing massive amounts of ectoplasm from the Infinite Realms into the air," Blizzard explained. "Ectoplasm is what gives ghostly beings like me strength. It looks like Danny has been exposed to ectoplasm before, but never pure ectoplasm like this, and it's causing a negative reaction with the stale ectoplasm already in his body."

Blizzard reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a twig with a few sparse leaves. He plucked a couple of them and pushed them into Danny's mouth.

"He would recover with time anyway, but this should help him recover faster," the snow monster explained.

Tucker looked intently at Danny, and already, he could see his friend's breathing getting stronger.

"I think it's working!"

Suddenly, the humming noise grew more high pitched, and Blizzard lifted his head, and perked up his ears.

"I should go," he said. "I fear these portals will not be open for much longer, and if they close, I will have no way to get back home."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Tucker asked.

Blizzard smiled at him and reached into his bag again, this time pulling out a piece of carved ice in the shape of one of Blizzard's horns, but hollow.

"If you blow in this, I'll hear you wherever I am," he said. "I may not always be able to get to you, but I'll always remember you."

Tucker took the frozen horn and blew into it, but it didn't make any sound.

He looked up in confusion when he hear Blizzard laughing at him. "You blow into the other end, silly."

"Oh." When Tucker blew into the other end, it made a low trumpeting tone.

"There you go!"

The humming noise became more high pitched again, and this time Blizzard looked genuinely alarmed.

"I have to go, he said," clambering quickly to his feet and running through the hole he'd come out of. His legs were a lot longer than Tucker's, and he could run much faster because of it.

The humming was replaced by a horrible shriek, like the school's fire alarm but somehow worse. It held for about three seconds, and while it did, the green spots and holes in the sky glowed so brightly, and spun and the edges got all warped and weird.

Then the only sound was Tucker's ears ringing, and the green things in the sky were gone.

A couple minutes later, Danny woke back up, and Tucker suggested they play inside for a while.

A grimace came across Danny's face and he spit out the leaved Blizzard had put in his mouth, and shuddered from laying still and unconscious in the cold.

"Yuck!" he said. His teeth chattered. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind going inside for a little while."

As soon as they got inside, however, the doorbell rang, and Danny and Tucker ran to answer it. Tucker's dad was there.

"What was that?" his dad demanded.

"I don't know," Tucker said.

"What was what?" Danny asked.

"I'm going to have to talk to your parents, young man!" Tucker's dad pushed his way inside and went straight to the basement door.

"No, wait! You're not supposed to bother Mom and Dad while their working!" Danny called out, running after him.

Tucker followed, too, mostly because he wanted to know what was going on.

The three of them all went down into the basement together, and gasped when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Mr and Mrs Fenton were both unconscious on the floor of their lab.

"Mom! Dad!" Danny shouted. He ran up to his mom, who was closer, and tried to shake her awake, but it didn't work.

Tucker's dad knelt down next to her and gently pulled Danny away before pressing his fingers into her neck for some reason, and then sighing with relief.

"She's alive." He got up up and walked over to Danny's dad to do the same thing. "Him too. What happened to them?"

"Maybe the same thing that happened to Danny," Tucker said with a shrug. "When those green spots started showing up, he just suddenly fell asleep. Then my snow monster friend gave him some leaves to make him wake up faster. He said Danny would have been fine without the leaves, though, so they should be okay, too."

"Well that's... very nice of your snow monster friend," Tucker's dad said, though his voice had a strange quality to it, like he wasn't really sure how to react.

"You have a snow monster friend?" Danny asked excitedly. "What's his name?"

"His name is Blizzard, and he came through one of the green holes when you were asleep," Tucker said.

"Cool!"

The two of them startled when Tucker's dad suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Wait, what about Jazz? Danny, where's your sister?" he demanded.

"In her room, I think."

Without another word, Tucker's dad started up the stairs and the two boys followed. They kept going up the next flight of stairs to the second floor, and Danny pointed out which bedroom was Jazz's.

Jazz was on her bed, asleep, with a book open on her chest. But she was abnormally pale, and if she was breathing, it was so shallow they couldn't tell looking at her.

Tucker's dad checked her neck, too and sighed again with relief. He put a bookmark in her book, and handed it to Tucker to carry. Then he picked up Jazz and carried her out of the room.

"Come on, into my car, both of you," he said.

Tucker and Danny ran down to the car, and strapped in, and then Tucker's Dad buckled Jazz in next to them before heading back inside for a moment to leave a note for the Fentons when they woke up.

Then he took them all back to Tucker's house, and Danny and Tucker played battleship wrestling while Jazz slept on the couch, and Tucker's parents talked to each other in the other room.

The Fentons had been very angry when they came to pick up their kids from Tucker's house. They yelled things like 'kidnapping', and Tucker's parents yelled back things like 'criminal neglect', and when Mr and Mrs Fenton finally stormed off, each of them holding one of their kids' hands, they shouted about never letting Tucker's parents anywhere near their kids again, and Tucker's Dad shouted back that the same went for them.

After that, Danny and Tucker weren't allowed to have play dates or hang out together outside of school for over a year. Tucker's dad said that he was never going to be allowed to go back to the Fenton's house, and as he understood it, Danny's parents had said basically the same thing to him about never being allowed to go to Tucker's house.

Tucker didn't have any siblings, or even neighbors close to his age, so he had to play alone a lot that winter.

He and Danny only lived a few blocks apart, so Tucker could see and even distantly hear when those green spots came back. His dad said that the spots were because of something Danny's parents were working on, which was too dangerous for kids to be around, and that was why he couldn't go back to Danny's house.

When Tucker saw those green spots start to show up though, he would get the ice horn out of his sock drawer—it never melted, no matter where he kept it—and blow into it, and sometimes, Blizzard would come and hang out and play with him. He would always leave when he thought the spots were about to go away though. He didn't want to be trapped away from home.

Tucker could understand that, but it still meant that he would have to play alone again. He missed having Danny over.

When winter started to give way to spring, Blizzard told Tucker that he wouldn't be able to come back until the snowy season started again, because it would be too warm for him, and he might melt.

This made sense to six-year-old Tucker, because all the snow monsters he and Danny had made melted during the spring, too. Even though Blizzard didn't seem to be made of actual snow, he was still a snow monster, and Tucker didn't want him to die.

Blizzard did promise to write Tucker letters though, and Tucker looked forward to that, and told him they'd see each other when winter came again.

Throughout the rest of the year, Tucker would occasionally receive letters. There was no sender address, but they were all addressed to Tucker Foley at 2217 Woodsboro Drive, Amity Park, Illinois. Blizzard's handwriting was not very good, but it was still readable. In his letters, he would tell Tucker stories about learning medicine, and all his yeti friends back in the Far Frozen.

Tucker learned that the technical name for snow monsters was yeti.

He couldn't write back, because he'd asked the mail lady, and she said that she'd never heard of the Far Frozen, and she was sorry, but she didn't think they could send mail there. So instead, after reading one of Blizzard's letters, Tucker would go outside and blow on the ice-horn to let Blizzard know that he was thinking about him.

When winter came again, the two of them played together some more. Tucker, hiving recently been made aware of the concept of 'too old for fun and games' by his older cousin during the summer, asked Blizzard if he thought he was too old to be playing with a little kid like Tucker. Blizzard said he was only an adolescent yeti himself, a young teenager, he clarified, but he never seemed to get any bigger, even though he commented on how much bigger Tucker had gotten in just one year. Apparently yetis aged much slower than people did.

Another winter passed, and Blizzard apologetically told Tucker they wouldn't be able to see each other until it snowed in Amity Park again. Tucker once again, understood, and through the rest of the year, Blizzard sent him letters every month or so, when he could get them through.

This continued for a few years. The Fentons stopped whatever experiment was making green spots appear, and Tucker was afraid that Blizzard might not be able to come back, but he managed it, though less often than previous years.

Gradually, Danny and Tucker's parents started to let the two of them hang out outside of school more, but even though Tucker eagerly told Danny about his yeti friend, and showed him the letters, the timing never worked out for Danny to be able to meet him.

Tucker never tried to hide Blizzard from anyone. He told his parents all about the yeti, and they seemed happy to indulge him for a long time.

Then, when he was eleven, and he got the first letter of the year from Blizzard in the mail, his parents started to look concerned. A few months, and two more letters later, his dad put the latest letter from Blizzard on the table between them and sat him down for a talk.

"Tucker... your mother and I have started to become... concerned about you," he said.

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.

"Look, it was cute when you were seven years old and mailing letters to yourself, but you're about to start middle school now, and... well... don't you think you're getting too old for imaginary friends?"

"I don't have any imaginary friends," Tucker replied, openly confused by the conversation.

"Blizzard the yeti snow monster from the Far Frozen in the Infinite Realms?" His dad said flatly, raising an eyebrow. "None of those things actually exist."

Well... at least he knew now that his dad did actually listen to him. He'd always sort of wondered about that. Although not believing him was a new and different problem, obviously.

"He's not imaginary," Tucker said. "I see him every winter, and he sends me letters the rest of the year."

"Tucker, honey," his dad said in that overly sweet voice he used to tell Tucker things he knew he didn't want to hear. "Yetis are a myth. There's no such place as the Far Frozen, or the Infinite Realms. I'll admit you made up some pretty interesting lore for him, but Blizzard is not real."

"The Infinite Realms is another dimension," Tucker insisted. "The Far Frozen is just one of the realms in that dimension. And Yetis are real there."

"Seriously kid, you could write a bestseller out of this stuff," his dad said.

"It's not made up," Tucker insisted. "I still have the ice-horn he gave me when we first met, I'll show you!"

"No, Tucker. That's enough," his dad said firmly. "I didn't want to be bad cop, but your mother won rock-paper-scissors, so I will be. Blizzard is not real, and you're too old to be playing with imaginary friends. You have real friends, don't you? You have Danny! Play with him."

"I do play with him," Tucker said. "I play with Blizzard too, when I can."

"Not anymore," his dad said. "I'm putting an end to this."

He took the letter off the table as he stood up. Then he tore it up and threw it in the kitchen garbage can where it would have gotten instantly covered with the expired meatloaf Tucker's mom had just thrown away.

After that, Tucker's parents intercepted all of Blizzard's letters to him. Tucker tried to get the mail before they did, but every time he managed to, there was no letter from Blizzard in it anyway. They only came every six to eight weeks, after all. But now, he wasn't receiving any of them.

At his father's suggestion, Tucker made another friend once middle school started, a girl names Sam, who dressed in all black and scared most of his and Danny's bullies away.

Even so, Tucker still blew on the ice horn every once in a while, to let Blizzard know he hadn't forgotten him.

When winter came again, so did Blizzard. Now though, Tucker did make an effort to hid the yeti from his parents. He told Blizzard all about what his dad had said about him being too old for imaginary friends. He said it would probably be for the best if Blizzard stopped sending letters the rest of the year, because he wouldn't be able to get them anyway, and he'd probably get in trouble with his parents, too, since they thought Tucker was the one writing them.

Blizzard agreed, though he didn't seem happy about it. Tucker couldn't blame him. He wasn't happy about it either. Still, at least they managed to see each other about three or four times every winter and catch up.

Then, Danny's accident happened. When Tucker saw his friend come out of the portal, unconscious and visibly the wrong colors, his mind shot back to the first time he'd met Blizzard, when Danny's parents' experiment had caused him to suddenly pass out. He wished Blizzard was there to tell him what to do, but it was barely autumn, so there was no way to reach him.

He'd also never told Sam about the yeti, so if he had been there, she might've freaked out.

In the end, Danny turned out to be fine. Tucker never mentioned the incident to his parents. He'd only been allowed to come to the Fenton's house unsupervised again for a couple of years and had no intention of losing that privilege because of another one of Mr and Mrs Fenton's fucked up lab experiments. And Danny was fine.

More or less, anyway.

Tucker was more excited than any of them when Danny suggested they take his parent's specter speeder out to map the Ghost Zone. At that point, he was pretty sure the Ghost Zone and the Infinite Realms were the same place, and he thought if they searched enough of it, they might find the Far Frozen, and he might be able to see Blizzard more than just three or four times a year, during the snowy season.

They went into the Ghost Zone over a dozen times, and the more they tried to map it, the more they realized it was unmappable—or at least, Tucker realized. Everything on their map was in a different place than they'd last seen it. Everything in the Ghost Zone was constantly shifting and changing, and Tucker was pretty sure they'd never find the Far Frozen, especially not at the rate they were going.

Then, after months and months of exploring, they crash landed right in it.

Tucker didn't realize right away. He'd been only six years old the last time he'd seen the Realm of the Far Frozen, and he'd seen it through a wobbly glowing tear through space, and it didn't look all that different from any other icy wasteland. At first, all he knew was that it was cold and snowy and powder white as far as they eye could see. Then, they were attacked by a yeti, and instantly Tucker made the connection.

The yeti that was attacking them was not Blizzard. For one thing, he was a good few feet taller than Blizzard, and one of his arms was made of ice encasing bone. The way he was dressed also looked a lot more fancy than how Blizzard usually dressed. Based on all that, Tucker guessed that this yeti was Frostbite, the leader of the Far Frozen. Although, in the stories Blizzard had told him, Frostbite was a kind and compassionate leader, always level-headed.

None of those words really seemed to apply to the one attacking them. At least, until Danny plucked a thorn of ice from his paw and he regained his sense. Then he was calling Danny 'Great One' and enthusiastically offering to escort them all to the village.

On the walk over, through chattering teeth, Tucker asked Frostbite if he knew a yeti named Blizzard.

"Three, in fact," Frostbite replied. "Blizzard is almost as common a name as Tundra, or Glacier." After saying this however, Frostbite looked down at Tucker curiously. "Wait, you wouldn't happen to mean the medic apprentice, Blizzard?"

"That's him!"

"Amazing," Frostbite said, looking Tucker up and down with a look of awe. "To be perfectly honest, when Blizzard told us all he had made a human friend, we thought he was just telling stories. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You t-too," Tucker agreed.

"What are you two t-t-talking about?" Sam stammered through the cold.

"C-can we save this c-conversation for s-someplace warmer?" Danny requested.

The three teens passed the rest of the walk in silence, though Frostbite had no such problems with the cold and told them all about the village they were going to, and what yeti culture was like.

Eventually, they got into a nice, warm cave, and Frostbite handed out blankets and hot chocolate. Then he left claiming he had some business to attend to briefly in the rest of the village.

"It's exciting that we actually found this place," Tucker commented. "I've been looking for it since we first started trying to map the Ghost Zone."

"You knew it existed?" Sam asked, sounding suitably shocked.

"Yup," Tucker said. "When I was little, I went to Danny's house where his parents were doing ghost portal experiments and they all passed out from some ectoplasm reaction or something, I don't really remember that part, but I met a yeti ghost from here named Blizzard. I'll make sure to find him and introduce him to you before we leave."

"Oh yeah, I remember Blizzard," Danny said after a moment of thought. "Your snow monster friend that you played with back when our parents wouldn't let us go to each other's houses. I can't believe there's a chance he might actually be real."

"What do you mean 'might'?" Tucker demanded indignantly, putting his hands on his hip, although the effect was diminished by the blanket hanging over his shoulders. "I talked to Frostbite about him and he's totally real. Not that I was in any doubt."

Sam shook her head and stuck a hand out from under her blanket before immediately pulling it back inside.

"Hold up," she said. "You mean not only did you already know this place existed, but you're already friends with one of the ghosts from here?"

"Yup, and as soon as we get the chance, I'm gonna make sure we can meet him," Tucker said.

A few moments later, before the conversation even moved on from the topic, Frostbite returned with a familiar young yeti in tow. Tucker perked up immediately and stood to greet his old friend.

"Blizzard! Hey!"

"Tucker, it's good to see you again," the yeti said, pulling him into a hug. Blizzard's fur had always been cool, but it was also so soft that Tucker had never minded it. Blizzard pulled him away and looked him over. "Ancients, humans really do grow quickly. You're taller every time I see you, but I haven't seemed to grow at all."

Tucker laughed. Even though that was true, Blizzard was still a good foot taller than he was, and Tucker sincerely doubted he'd ever catch up to the yeti.

"I can't believe you're here!" Blizzard said.

"Neither can I," Tucker admitted. "I've been looking for this place for a while but I kinda stopped expecting to find it." He turned to his two human friends with a huge smile that was only a little bit smug. "Sam, Danny, meet Blizzard. Blizzard, these are my human friends, Danny and Sam."

"I am honored to meet you both," Blizzard said, his tone strangely formal compared to how he usually spoke to Tucker. "I did not know that Tucker was friends with the Great One. It his humbling to be in your presence."

Danny laughed awkwardly. Frostbite had explained the whole 'Great One' thing earlier, but as cool as it was, Danny wasn't used to that kind of attention, especially from ghost.

"It's nice to meet you too," Danny said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, though she seemed to be otherwise dumbstruck looking between Tucker and the Yeti.

They chatted for a while, and Tucker told Blizzard how they'd gotten to the Far Frozen, and about the Fenton Portal, excitedly telling the yeti it would would be a much more reliable way for both of them to visit each other, rather than having to rely on natural portals that opened unexpectedly and never stayed open for too long.

Eventually, though, the three human teens had to get going, Blizzard said goodby, promising to come visit once the weather was cold again, and more often than usual. For his part, Tucker said he'd come back to the Far Frozen to visit in the meantime—although next time, he'd be sure to dress warmer.

Tucker was smug as hell once Blizzard had left to get back to the medicine hut and the three teens were standing around the Infi-Map Frostbite had brought to take them home.

"So, is Blizzard the reason you're a furry?" Sam asked under her breath.

"Shut up!" Tucker hissed at her, though he could feel warmth rising into his cheeks.

She did shut up, but probably more because Frostbite had started to explain how the Infi-Map worked than because Tucker had asked her to.

#danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #tucker foley #dp oc #sam manson #maurice foley #Tucker's dad #fic #far frozen #things i wrote #phic phight #phic phight 24

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Athena and f reader. They've worked together for a year, both harboring feelings for the other. Reader takes a bullet for Athena, and as she Lays in her arms, waiting for the paramedics, she loos into Athenas eyes and admits how she feels.

A/n: hope you like it, anon ♥

It was a gunshot and Athena´s scream that filled and echoed through the deserted and silent streets, slowly dying in the darkness of the night. The flickering blue beacons of the police car behind you gave off the faintest light for the brunette to deduce that a rapidly enlarging blood-red smudge was spreading across your chest.

"Y/n.." she watched you intently, with that look on her face that was unlikely for her. Her eyes were wide open, pupils extremely dilated as her body was tensed and restless, almost trembling with fear.

Your gaze dropped to the spot where your uniform was beginning to soak up your blood and slowly, you dragged yourself forward to your best friend. The view in front of your eyes was disturbed by tiny black spots, which became more persistent and mixed with the slowly developing dizziness to an uncomfortable and unsafe feeling.

You felt your reserves of strength disappearing and leaving you and you were brought to your knees by this quickly occurring weakness. Before your body could reach the cold ground, two hands quickly slipped under your arms and caught you. "I´ve got you."

Gently, almost in slow motion, she pulled your increasingly heavier body onto the sidewalk and, as carefully as she could be, attempted to sit on it so that you came to rest on top of her. Laying in the arms of Athena, who pressed a hand to your chest to desperately stop the bleeding, you watched her screaming for help over the radio. "OFFICER DOWN! I NEED A BUS! NOW!"

"-thena." you said hollowly; your body shaking uncontrollably as your eyelids began to grow heavier with each second that passed. A small puddle formed on the floor beneath you, one of your own blood. "Don´t talk. Save your energy, sweetheart."

Even if no sound of complaint had passed your lips, the brunette only knew from the fine beads of sweat on your forehead that your injury was causing you the deepest and most severe pain. Still, she was pressing even harder on the gunshot wound, making you gasp while your body flinched on top of her- watching the warm blood slip through her fingers.

Too much blood.

She, too, felt shaky and uncomfortable in such a situation. Not only because such a wound was a matter of life and death, but also because it was you who stood in front of her to protect her and save her life.

As Athena bent her head down to you, she clasped your now limp hand tightly in her free one and wiped the tears from her eyes; leaving streaks of your blood clinging to her skin. "Help is on the way, stay awake okay?" she spoke positively and already heard the sirens of the approaching ambulance in the far distance.

She wanted to play the strong one, didn´t want to cry in front of you and make you feel like your story should end here and now- in her arms. But when all that you love in life was about to be ripped away from you, then what could she possibly do?

Nothing helped, no matter how hard you tried to fight the constant and growing tiredness, the immense loss of blood that has taken place in the meantime had only made your body weaker. "It doesn´t hurt anymore." you said above a whisper and Athena´s eyes flickered back to you.

"Hold on, please. I need you." You felt her hold tighten on you and her soft lips pressed against your temple. Your eyes, almost drained of life, turned once more to hers and met a completely destroyed and never before seen facial expression that had been overwhelmed with salty tears.

"I love you, ´thena."

Her heart broke at that statement.

Suddenly, all the anger against the shooter dissipated and only sadness and longing remained.

Your body grew heavy and limp in her hold and the small smile on your lips slowly faded. And then it went black around you; the cold and darkness tore you to your bitter death.

"I love you too, Y/n. I always did."

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beautifuleveryone · 7 months

Text

This is Not a Puppy Love - G.Satoru

Puppy Lover Series Master List:

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730495177104424960/puppy-love-gsatoru?source=share

Third and Last Part of the series (can be read as stand alones)

First Part: And They Called It Puppy Love

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730496061837377536/and-they-called-it-puppy-love-gsatoru?source=share

Second Part: My Only Dream

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730524836551671808/my-only-dream-gsatoru?source=share

Synopsis:

After their kiss last night, Y/n has no idea what she and Gojo are to each other. She resolves firmly to ask him on their next mission on the boardwalk's carnival.

Word count: 0.8k

Au:

This series was a rebound for me bc im so used to writing angst lmao. So, this is proof that I am able to write fluff! (just not that well)

The moonlit kiss was all Gojo could think about.

The way moonlight illuminated Y/n’s face, the way the beach around them melted into the background as their lips touched…

Gojo was extremely distracted when he killed the Sea serpent curse. It emerged at the break of dawn, and was quickly exorcised by both him and Y/n.

Y/n didn’t know what they were. They shared a kiss last night and cuddled until the curse appeared. The entire time they never really classified what that kiss meant. Y/n didn’t want to pry. She was already way out of her league in dating experience, and dating Gojo was an entirely different matter. He was a run-away cargo ship of affection and touchiness.

After the exorcism the first years woke up and the group headed to the boardwalk to exorcise the Grade 1s.

“You guys can handle measly Grade Ones, right?” Gojo put on his best puppy dog eyes. To any other student, grade ones weren’t ‘measly’ at all. But this batch of students were more than capable. They didn’t even seem phased. The only reason they flinched in disgust was Gojo’s face.

“What’s the story behind the curses?” Megumi questioned, hands in pockets as they advanced towards the carnival.

Gojo sighed idly. “This carnival was originally designed for children but had unsafe rides and gruesome attractions. The amount of fear associated with it caused the curses to manifest.” He grinned. “They’re spread out across the carnival so good luck!” He clapped his hands delightedly.

“Well, I am going with Y/n~” Kugisaki linked arms with Y/n and grinned at her. As the only girls actively in Jujutsu Tech they learned to appreciate each other’s company.

“Nope.” Effortlessly, Gojo tugged on Y/n’s sleeve and dragged her to his chest. “She’s going with me.”

“Huuuh?” Nobara pouted.

“So you’re just going to slack off while your students are fighting?” Megumi deadpanned. He has well since adjusted to Gojo’s antics.

“ooOOOhhh! They’re going on a date~” Yuji teased. wagging his finger.

Y/n felt her face flush up but Gojo laughed easily. “We’ll still be at the carnival.” He paused, and suddenly the air around them grew darker.

“Only call us if you’re dying. If you don’t…” Suddenly the air felt lighter. “I’ll kill you <3”

The entire group shivered as they stepped through the gates. Y/n summoned a veil and the students dispersed, following the cursed energy. They disappeared into the crowd of people and suddenly, Y/n wished she wasn’t alone with Gojo.

“Come one love.” He held Y/n’s hand and smiled as he looked into her eyes. He had a white button-up shirt with khaki shorts, and a pair of luxury shades guarded his eyes. “Where do you want to go?”

The sun was setting over the seaside town. Y/n was growing worried. The first years still hadn’t returned from their fights and hours had passed. “It’s okay, love.” Gojo comfortingly whispered in her ear. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “I’d know if something was wrong.”

Just Gojo and Y/n’s presence at the carnival alone scared the curses into hiding from them, so the entire day Gojo and Y/n went where the crowd of tourists went to keep the curses away from civilians. As the sun set, the group of tourists gravitated towards the Ferris wheel. Gojo clapped his hands excitedly. Y/n could tell that Gojo was itching to get some alone one-on-one time with her, and Y/n was too. She wanted to sit Gojo down and have a serious “what are we” conversation without a group of people listening.

That Ferris wheel was the kind with spacious chambers with walls encasing plush seats. As Gojo and Y/n stalked in, Y/n clenched her fists. I need to tell him, she thought.

“Sit on my lap.” He said casually. A breath caught in Y/n’s throat.

As the Ferris wheel rose to the highest position their chamber could be, it halted with a jerk, and Gojo quickly grabbed onto the handrails. Y/n was not so lucky and tumbled to the ground. She stayed there for a moment, contemplating why the universe loved Gojo and apparently hated her. She could’ve easily gotten back up, but she wasn’t feeling like it.

“…love? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” Gojo sounded like he was hyperventilating. “No. I’m fine.” Y/n stood back up.

He took in a deep breath and went for it.

“Gojo…what are we?”

His brows scrunched together. “Jujutsu sorcerors?” His mouth tugged upwards at the joke, but Y/n’s serious expression hung it down.

“We’re dating, aren’t we?” Instead of confusion, there was panic in his eyes.

Did I do something wrong?

Does she hate me?

“I mean - if you wanted to be something more casual-“

“No.” Y/n sighed with relief. “I was just worried you weren’t serious about this.”

“Y/n.” Gojo held Y/n’s arms. She was standing in front of him while he was sitting on the chairs. “I’m serious about you, and about us. This isn’t just…I don’t know, puppy love. This is serious.”

“I swear I will marry you one day.” His eyes looked deep into Y/n’s with sincerity and truth. “Read my mind, I don’t care.” He gently stroked Y/n’s knuckles. Y/n sat down on his lap. “No, that’s okay.” She brushed at a stray strand of hair covering Gojo’s eyes. “I believe you.”

He smiled and kissed her.

The future may be unclear, but it had one constant: Gojo.

#fluff #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo

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lesbianlotties · 2 years

Text

Ronancetober Day 2: Vampire/Werewolf

words: 1047

nancy is a vampire. robin thinks that's very sexy of her. that's it. that's the plot

“Wheeler, I need you to know that your house is fucking ugly,” Robin said out loud, even though there was nobody else currently in the room with her. She was standing in the foyer of the abandoned manor on the outskirts of Hawkins, the place where kids dared each other to knock on the door and then ran away crying, the source of every terrifying myth about the entire town being haunted, the place where Robin had run away to hide when someone outed her to the whole school, when the entire world felt unsafe, when this was the only place nobody would search for her, when she met Nancy Wheeler for the first time.

“But you’re still here,” Nancy replied.

Robin couldn’t avoid being startled. She jumped and turned around quickly, always impressed to see the ways that Nancy’s nature allowed her to defy physics and logic and reason. One second Robin was all alone and the next Nancy was standing right behind her.

The Wheelers were an old name in Hawkins, and most people thought they were all dead and gone, but not Nancy. Nancy would never die. Nancy would hide in that creepy old house while the sun was out, she would haunt people in dark alleys at night, she would drink their blood and only kill when she felt like it, and she would live forever. Robin wouldn’t. She wouldn’t live forever and, as little as she would live, she had hoped it wouldn’t be spent in Hawkins. But, in the meantime, she would stay close enough. Even many years after that first fateful day, Robin continued to come back. She moved out of Hawkins, she went to college, she graduated, and she never strayed too far for too long. She had made the choice to befriend the powerful creature that lived in the haunted house, and in a matter of years, she managed to convince Nancy to give and take more of her. There was no way to avoid talking about love. Because every now and then, if it wasn’t her own desire and genuine affection pushing her, then she felt… something. A pressure in her chest, a whisper in her ear, a phantom touch, anything. It was Nancy calling out to her.

“Well,” Robin shrugged and didn’t dare to move forward just yet, “You did call me, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Nancy smiled. It was an indescribable thing, seeing her smile happily instead of devilishly, and still seeing just a small glimpse of those fangs. “In all these years, I’ve never felt lucky, except when I feel you coming home to me.”

Robin gulped nervously, and hoped Nancy wouldn’t notice her shudder at hearing the word home. She’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least somewhat accurate. “I always will. For as long as you want me,” Robin whispered, and this time she did take a step closer to Nancy. That was all the invitation that Nancy needed to invade Robin’s personal space.

“I’ll always want you,” Nancy said. She stepped impossibly close and cradled Robin’s face gently within her hands. Robin could do nothing but get lost in Nancy’s eyes. She had a feeling she would never be able to understand how she could just feel Nancy’s genuine desire and love in combination with her helplessness and bitterness at the passing of time and at Robin’s absence. “You have no idea how difficult it is not to keep you here all the time,” Nancy added, and she let one of her hands start to wander down Robin’s neck.

“Don’t tell me that,” Robin replied. She had a soft frown on her face, and already she was growing breathless. “You know I’ll stay if you ask me to.”

“I can’t,” Nancy smiled sadly, “I want you to make the most of your life. I’ll be fine. Every night you give me will make a century worth it for me.”

As she talked, Nancy’s hands grew bolder. Her fingertips traced the veins in Robin’s neck, then she switched to a firm grip, experimentally digging her nails softly on the back of Robin’s neck to hear her breath hitch. She pushed on Robin’s jaw and she was delighted with the impatient way that Robin let her head lean to the side to expose more of her gorgeous throat. Nancy couldn’t help herself anymore. She leaned in, and her lips connected with the tender skin of Robin’s neck for the first time that night. Both of them immediately sighed. Robin placed her hands on Nancy’s waist, holding on for dear life and pulling her closer, an act of want and encouragement that made Nancy’s hunger grow tenfold. She increased the pressure of her kisses, she explored from Robin’s jaw down to her collarbone and then back again, unafraid to start with gentle bites and adventurous licks. She felt impossibly alive when she heard Robin hiss pleasurably at a dangerously hard bite.

“Oh. Wow. God, that’s good,” Robin sighed. One of her hands moved to the back of Nancy’s head to keep her in place. Realistically, there should be nothing that suggested she was the one in control of the situation, but then there was Nancy’s devotion, Nancy’s eagerness to get on her knees for Robin, Nancy’s commitment to ignore her cold as stone nature, to be soft and pliable for Robin only, and let Robin always dictate how much, how hard, how deep, how long, and how fast everything happened.

“Are you ready?” Nancy mumbled, unwilling to tear herself away from that glorious spot where she could feel Robin’s pulse beating against her tongue.

“Yeah,” Robin whined while fingers tightened in Nancy’s hair, and then managed one breathless little laugh. “No foreplay this time, huh?”

“I missed you,” Nancy explained easily, and then she put all her focus on her favorite spot. “The night is young, and so are you, my love. I could stay right here forever.” Then, in the closest thing to worship that Nancy had ever known, she sank her fangs into Robin’s neck, making both of them moan in unison, making both of their bodies shudder and blindly pull each other closer as they experienced the first moment of ecstasy from a night that promised so much more.

#please let me know if i just turn this one into a full on smut one shot for ao3 later #ronance #ronancetober #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #st #stranger things fanfic #ronance fanfic #my fic

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the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink · 2 years

Text

Understand (platonic!MCR x reader)

Summary: Stepping in as the touring drummer for My Chem is like a dream come true, and it doesn’t take long for your friendship with them to grow. The downside is, this is happening right as you’re hitting a gender crisis - and it all comes to a head after one particularly energetic show...

Warnings: gender dysphoria, afab reader (but talk of chest binding with as much neutral language as possible), unsafe binding methods

Word count: 2068

Requested?: No

A/N: lol I’ve been super dysphoric for like 3 weeks now and this thought is the only one keeping me slightly sane so I thought I’d let you join in with the brain rot xoxo

In hindsight, binding as heavily as possible for the whole day and then going on stage to drum at an unholy pace for an hour and a forty minutes was a terrible idea. But for (y/n), they could see no other way of keeping focused on what they needed to do. Losing focus meant screwing up - and that simply wasn’t an option.

They had only been drumming for My Chemical Romance for three weeks, after stepping in to replace their usual drummer, who’d managed to break his arm badly enough that he was completely out of action. And so far, things were going brilliantly! Considering that the four guys had known each other for over twenty years (which was almost as long as (y/n) had been alive), they’d worried that they would feel like an outsider, a tagalong that the group pitied just enough to let them stick around but not so much that they actually let them in. But all four had been super sweet and welcoming from the very start, and they’d soon settled in as one of the gang.

There was only one problem. The ever-present gender crisis.

As they slipped backstage with the others for the break before the encore, (y/n)’s ribs screamed in protest against the tape and binder combination that held their chest in place, but they tried not to let the pain show on their face. Ray passed them a bottle of water as they stood there, listening to the crowd chanting for ‘one more song’ with the widest possible grins.

“It’s always so fucking awesome, hearing people get that loud for us.” Mikey ran a hand through his sweaty hair before moving to adjust the strap of his bass a little, the ‘Mikey Fuckin Way’ lettering on his shirt glittering in the low light.

(Y/n) desperately hoped that the smile they shot back looked genuine enough that it wouldn’t be a cause for concern. “It’s insane, dude. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

Frank swung an arm over their shoulder as the stage crew signaled that it was almost time for them to return. “Twenty years on, and I still feel the same exact way. So - Vampires and Sleep to finish?” The rest of them nodded, and he shot their newest friend a wink. “Let’s go smash this shit, hey princess?”

He missed the look of visceral disgust that crossed their face as they headed back to their positions. Obviously it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t known that that particular term of endearment would make them uncomfortable. It wasn’t like they’d plucked up the courage to talk about the minefield of strange thoughts and emotions that was filling their brain. And Frank used pet names with everyone. It just so happened that the one he’d chosen in this instance made them feel sick to their stomach.

As they launched into Vampires Will Never Hurt You, watching Gerard splay himself across the front of the stage, (y/n) could feel their lungs struggling to take in enough air, and the edges of their vision greying out. Shaking their head to try and clear the fuzziness, they put even more force into the drumming. At least in the shadows at the back of the stage, nobody could see them struggle. And the crowd was paying far more attention to the boys anyway.

The final vestiges of Sleep echoed through the arena as the crowd erupted into cheers, and (y/n) felt a grin touch their cheeks despite the pain they were in. They joined Mikey and Frank where they were tossing their picks away at the front of the stage, waving each drumstick high before lobbing it out to the baying masses. When there were no more of these offerings to give, they finally retreated, leaving the house lights to come up and give people the hint that yes, the show really was over.

Twenty minutes later they had made it back to the bus, ready to throw on pyjamas and watch a movie together. It had been their after-show ritual since the third gig, and it was always nice to get the chance to properly relax. As the boys got changed, chatting and pelting sweaty socks at each other, (y/n) ducked into the little bathroom as usual and closed the door, an extra large shirt already in hand. They absolutely did not want to remove their binder, but the logical part of their brain was screaming that they’d done enough damage today already.

Pulling their shirt over their head was difficult enough - the combination of aching arm muscles from the show and bruising pressure at their sides was a nightmare - but things only got worse when they moved their hands to the lower hem of the binder and pulled.

And it didn’t budge.

Shit.

(Y/n) tried again, biting sharply on their lip as the physiotherapy tape beneath the tight fabric pulled harshly at their sensitive skin. Still, no movement. Twisting awkwardly in the tiny room, they managed to take a look at their back in the mirror. Where the tape they had placed a few days ago was starting to lift at the edges, it had now glued itself to the binder fabric. And there was no way they’d be able to fix the problem alone. Fingers shaking, they stared at the screen of their phone for a moment before making a decision and tapping out a quick text. They could hear the guys talking, their conversation a little fainter now they had moved into the lounge area.

(Y/n): Hey, could use your help.

Gee: You okay?

(Y/n): yeah, just screwed something up that I can’t fix by myself

Gee: Ok, coming. Still in the bathroom?

(Y/n): yep

Moments later, there was a soft knock at the door, and (Y/n) opened it just far enough that Gerard could slip inside with them.

“So what’s-” He stopped, registering the redness around their eyes and the skin-coloured garment clinging to their chest. “Oh. Oh honey, why didn’t you tell us?”

The look of concerned guilt in his eyes made them well up even more, and they sniffled. “Thought I could work things out on my own, then tell you. But I fucked up.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I’ve had tape on for the last four or five days, but today...” they managed an empty snort of laughter, “today the dysphoria was just unbearable. So I threw this on over it - it’s the wrong size as well, but I haven’t had enough spare money for a new one. And now everything’s welded together, and I can’t get it off.” Everything suddenly became too much to bear, and they buried their face in their hands.

Gerard pulled them in for a hug, resting his chin on top of their head and rocking them softly until the sobs faded into the occasional hiccup. “Let’s start unpicking this stupid tape, huh?”

And he got to work, gently working his fingers between the fabric and the adhesive and pulling gradually until, section by section, the two materials became separate again. He worked his way methodically around the hem until he was finished, then moved to stand between the short drummer and the mirror.

“Hey, (y/n). I’ve got you, okay? I’m gonna get this thing off you, and you won’t have to look, I promise. Just hang in there a bit longer.”

They nodded, squeezing their eyes shut as he worked the binder slowly upwards until it was finally off. They took a deep breath for the first time in far too long, ribs groaning with delight as they had the space to expand as needed.

“Fuck, I’ve missed breathing properly.”

Gerard snorted, then tutted anxiously. “Oh kid, your skin looks so raw under here. I think it’s time to take the tape off for a while.”

“Do I have to?”

“I think it’s for the best, yeah. Let me do all the work, and we’ll get this sorted.”

(Y/n) nodded their consent, and felt him start to carefully peel the tape away, pulling slowly so as not to traumatise their abused skin any further. No words were said as the final pieces came away, leaving (y/n) with their upper half completely exposed. That thought made them shudder once again - they trusted Gerard completely, but having something that made them so insecure on display in front of someone else was awful. They felt movement behind them, and then a hand reached around to press a piece of fabric against their front. The clean shirt they’d chosen.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, this is what friends are for. I’m just gonna put some lotion on your back - the skin here’s a bit fucked. Don’t worry, I won’t use Mikey’s gross flowery shit. You can have some of mine.” As he worked the soothing moisturiser into their skin, he carried on talking. “So, what do you want us to change?”

“Huh?”

“About the way we talk about you. You know, are you okay with your name? What about pronouns? I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

This time, the tears that threatened to trail down (y/n)’s face were happy ones. “Um... I’m okay with my name, for now. But ‘she’ is just...” they pulled a face, and he nodded giving them room to turn and face him once their shirt was on.

“So, ‘he’? Or would ‘they’ be better?”

“They, I think. At least for now.”

“And what about nicknames? Because, y’know, certain people in this band are allergic to using people’s government names more than once a week.”

That got a proper laugh out of them, and Gerard was internally punching the air. He hated seeing people he cared about upset, and knowing that he’d been able to bring back that wonderful smile of theirs was music to his ears.

(Y/n) thought for a moment. “The more masculine, the better.”

“Gotcha.”

A series of knocks at the door interrupted them, and Ray called through. “You guys are okay in there, right? Nobody’s dead or anything?”

“We’re coming out now, relax man.”

The two of them stepped back into the cramped changing/storage area of the bus to see the rest of the band waiting for them, all looking concerned. Frank took one look at (y/n)’s puffy eyes and tucked them under his arm, frowning.

“You okay dude?”

“Yeah, just...” They trailed off, took a deep breath, and just went for it. “Brain’s been a bit of a mess recently, having problems with the whole gender thing. It’s a lot of shit. And I fucked up by not binding safely this morning, and couldn’t get out of it myself.”

They had barely finished the sentence when they were practically smothered by the rest of the band, swept into the most comforting group hug possible. As Gerard smiled, as if to say ‘told you we’d understand’, the others talked over each other in their desperate attempts to provide reassurance.

“Oh man I’m so sorry we didn’t ask earlier.”

“If we fuck up, you tell us, okay? Or punch us, whatever, just make sure we know.”

“Dealing with all this shit on your own must’ve sucked, I’m sorry we didn’t see you were struggling.”

A little overwhelmed by the unconditional support, (y/n) pulled away to wipe their eyes before managing a smile. “Well if my binder didn’t break my ribs then that hug sure as hell did. Don’t get all soppy on me now. I wanna pick our movie before we all fall asleep.”

The answer was unanimous. “Deal.”

The five of them piled onto the couch in the lounge area, (y/n) squeezing in between Mikey and Ray. “Let’s do Jaws.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “For the fourth time?”

They responded by throwing a handful of popcorn in his face, and Gerard nudged him in the ribs. “There’s your answer. And quit hogging the blanket.”

As they all settled in, heads nodding, Ray dug his phone out of his pocket and snapped a quick photo - five pairs of fluffy-socked feet sticking out from under the blankets, with the opening sequence of the film just in the back of the shot. He thought for a second, deciding on the right caption, and posted it.

‘Movie night with my favourite dudes 🍿'

Perfect.

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ettawritesnstudies · 2 years

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hey dude, saw your post about abortion, and based on your url i'm assuming you're a woman. you're saying you believe that no matter the consequence you are going to stand with the group that is limiting the rights of women. That if a ten year old gets raped she should be forced to go through months and months of stress her body is not meant to handle that she may die from, but if she doesn't she will most certainly be even more traumatized. If a teenager is too immature to adopt, why are they suddenly mature enough to have a child of their own? That if a woman's preventative measures fail during sex she should have to have a child now (though the man *might* have to pay child support *maybe*). That women should be forced to bring a child into this world even if they *know* they don't have the means to raise the child and it may starve and die, and if it doesn't their childhood will still be deeply damaging and traumatizing. That you support women getting unsafe abortions (because studies show abortion numbers don't go down when it's banned, just the survival rate). Anti-abortionism is getting legislation passed that forces these situations. And all of these are real examples that have really happened. If someone is going to die from kidney failure and another person has a healthy kidney, we don't force the healthy person to donate a kidney to keep another person alive: that would be a violation of bodily autonomy. Telling a woman to not abort a fetus is the same thing - telling her what to make sacrifices to her own body to keep another person alive.

So why did you post that?

Hello Anon,

I posted that because (as I state in my bio) I'm a Catholic, and a scientist, and I believe that from the moment of conception, the zygote/embryo/fetus/infant/child is it's own person with equal rights and dignity. All of those designations are medical terms for a small human at different stages of development: from even the first day, the child has its own DNA. At four weeks the heartbeat starts, which is usually when women have missed one cycle and realize they are pregnant. At 12 weeks, by the end of the first trimester, when most abortions are performed, all organs are fully formed and simply need to grow.

This is an issue of bodily autonomy, but it is the child's life that is being violated. It is a human rights issue, not only a women's rights issue. This is not the same as the kidney transfer example because a child is not a part of the mother's body. A more accurate example would be asking if it is right to kill someone perfectly healthy for their kidney to keep another person alive - No matter the consequence, I am going to stand with a group that acknowledges the unborn child is a person, and wants to protect the rights of both the mother and the child throughout the pregnancy.

That being said, I understand where your concerns come from and I do not want to dismiss your anxiety and frustration. I do care about each and every one of those women you mentioned and so I'm going to provide some resources that may help you understand where I'm coming from and how we all can help mothers in crisis.

Rape is a horrible crime and nobody (man or woman) should ever suffer that experience. The child conceived out of rape did not have a choice in the conditions of their creation. They are just as much a victim as the mother. In the case of any complications, an abortion clinic will not have the resources available to care for both the mother and the child. Any woman in a life-threatening pregnancy should go to the ER instead, and these woman should receive counseling and support, not a surgeon telling them their problems will be gone after they get rid of the child. Abortion is also proven to be extremely traumatic for many women, and there is no way to look at this situation that isn't thoroughly miserable, but performing an emergency C-section as soon as possible is still preferable to making that young woman also suffer the death of her child. I encourage you to read Kathy Barnette's story: she was conceived in rape when her mother was 12 years old and her testimony is extremely powerful.

Less than 1% of abortions occur for cases of rape, incest, or life of the mother. The rest are elective, due to family pressures, lack of support from her partner, financial struggles, still being in school, or a myriad of other reasons. Again, a child does not have any choice in the conditions of their conception. Pro-Lifers support legislation that would require the father to pay child support through the pregnancy, longer paid maternity/paternity leave, and other relief programs to support women in crisis pregnancy situations, and until that legislation is passed, we are setting up women's shelters and resource centers to help by putting our money and time where our mouth is. These services such as pregnancy tests, prenatal and parenting classes, essential supplies, counseling, post-abortive medical care, adoption support and funding, maternity housing, and more are (depending on location) very often completely free. Planned Parenthood does also supply these services, but always at a charge, because they know women are desperate. If you or someone you know is in this situation, seek out help through 40 Days for Life and their associated national organizations.

The pressure to abort and the increased risk of death from "back-alley" abortions in these situations comes from a societal problem that can be solved with proper support structures. Additionally, abortion clinics are not held to the same safety standards as hospitals and crisis pregnancy clinics. In my home state of Pennsylvania - in the very liberal areas of Allentown and Philadelphia, there have been several cases of the department of health refusing to investigate violations because "it's wrong to get in the way of a woman's right to abortion" leading to the deaths and endangerment of minority women. This year, the Allentown Planned Parenthood was cited for violating the state requirement to test women for the Rh protein. Kermit Gosnell was an active serial killer as recent as 2011. The investigative journalist who uncovered this story has produced a film and true crime podcast about this clinic, which I encourage you to watch and listen to.

After Roe v Wade was passed, abortion was supposed to become safe, and rare. It is neither of those things. 60 MILLION children have been lost to abortion in our generation. That's roughly one third of my peers. To top it all off, Margaret Sanger, the founder of PP, was a notorious racist, and most locations today still target underprivileged minority neighborhoods in the inner cities. Sex and Disability selective abortions are mostly still legal, and so baby girls and disabled kids are especially at risk. How can that be feminist? Despite being the most common genetic disorder with 1/800 kids being diagnosed and a very high survival rate and quality of life, roughly 90% of children with Down Syndrome have been aborted. this is eugenics, plain and simple.

Abortion does not help women or solve the problem of a society that does not support mothers and families and the minorities of the world. All it does is hide the problem and perpetuate this broken system behind a veneer of "progressiveness". I apologize if this upset you, but this is my opinion, and if you do not agree, you are welcome to unfollow me. Usually I keep this blog politics-free and post all non-writing stuff to a sideblog, but I accidentally missed that post, and for the sake of completeness, I will post this publicly here as well. My DMs are open if you want to continue this discussion.

#abortion #politics #catholic #catholicism #christian #abortion tw #pregnancy #pregnancy resources #personal #if you somehow were shocked that I'm pro life then I don't know what to tell you #Catholic has been in my bio for YEARS and I'm not exactly subtle about how my faith impacts my writing #my main WIP is named the greek word for familial love

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des8pudels8kern · 2 months

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i'm an international student in germany and i'm really scared for the future of germany. people are getting more and more racist, homophobic, transphobic, islamophobic, everything bad!!! i'm hoping that i can finish my study as soon as possible, and after that i will leave this country

We unfortunately live in interesting times, Nonnie. I think people in Germany are not getting worse, per se, but more polarized. Where ten, twenty years ago, many people would simply not care much one way or the other, these days they do. And, while many have become more open-minded and more educated when it comes to diversity and not just tolerating, but respecting those who are not like them, the ones that are hateful and intolerant are weigh heavier on society. If I am Other in a group of one hundred people that are too indifferent to care one way or another, I might not feel welcome, but I am safe. If I am Other in a group of one hundred people, forty of them indifferent, forty willing to use words to defend me in civil conversations, nineteen muttering to each other how wrong people like me are, and one screaming slurs and hate and threats at me, then that one person will drown out everything else and I won't feel safe.

We've seen that same development in the US, first with the Tea Party, then with MAGA, with Trump. I hope things won't get so dire over here. I hope, as grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the most famous, well-documented fascist regime in history, even the discontent mutterers know better than to let it get that far.

But I don't know. I don't think any of us truly know how we'll react and if we'll have the strength to stand up for what is right and to protect others, if it means putting ourselves in danger.

Growing up aroace in a time pre-internet, when I had no idea that this is a sexual orientation like any other, albeit a small one, rather than something being broken and wrong inside of me, has left its marks. Still, I'm white, cis, and not visibly different. The worst I've been called was weird and a prude. The absence of something is easy for people to overlook and I can "pass" well enough. See above: I might not feel welcome, but am safe enough. Not everybody has that privilege, and these interesting, polarised times are the most threatening and dangerous for those who are clearly, visibly Other. I don't blame anyone for feeling uncomfortable and unsafe. One in a hundred, one in a thousand people openly standing by their hate is enough to feel unsafe.

And, looking at the AfD poll numbers, right-wing protests, and hate comment on the internet, right now, there are a lot more than one in a hundred right now.

Take care of yourself, Nonnie. For now, you are a member of our society, and I welcome you. Make the most with the educational opportunities you have here. Do your best to surround yourself with a community of safe people, one way or the other. And, while I'd love for you to stay (demographic change, skilled worker shortage, and tbh I think the best, safest, healthiest society is a diverse society, because only when there is no one default there will also not be an Other) - you do you. Do what you have to to give yourself the best future possible, wherever that may lead you.

#ask #anonymous #current events

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strpbb-summaries · 7 months

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Story # 30

Title: Perfection Main Character(s): Chrissy Cunningham, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington Main Pairing(s): (brief) Jason Carver/Chrissy Cunningham, Chrissy Cunningham/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Chrissy Cunningham, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Chrissy Cunningham/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler Rating: M (Mature, Shows adult themes, but not explicitly) Genre: Angst, Horror Word Count: 5065 Completeness: 4 Warnings: disordered eating, internalized fatphobia, emotional abuse, physical abuse, domestic abuse, canon-typical violence, gun violence, internalized homophobia Summary:

Chrissy Cunningham has to be perfect. She can't even think about the feelings she has for Nancy Wheeler, so when Jason Carver asks her to Homecoming their Junior year, Chrissy accepts. As her relationship with Jason grows increasingly abusive, he starts taunting her with truths he shouldn't know. Jonathan Byers inadvertently becomes a shoulder for Chrissy to cry on when he finds Chrissy passed out after school. She hadn't been eating, hoping to give Jason less of a target. Jonathan encourages her to recognize that she shouldn't be treated this way. When Chrissy tries to break up with Jason and he hits her, Nancy witnesses this and takes Chrissy under her protection. She jumps at the chance to spend more time with Nancy, but knows it's only a matter of time before Nancy realizes Chrissy has a crush on her. With threats from Jason making her feel unsafe, Chrissy doesn't mind when Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve take up protecting her, both inside school and outside of it. At Homecoming, Jason tries to get revenge on Chrissy for dumping him. When Nancy stands up to him, Jason torments her with knowledge he shouldn't have, goading Nancy, pushing her buttons one after another until she shoots and kills him. This in no way dispels Chrissy's feelings for Nancy, and the way Jonathan and Steve handle the situation gives her things to like about them, as well. As a group, they go to Chief Hopper for help. He believes Nancy when she says something supernatural was going on, and reveals he has his own secret waiting in the wings--Eleven. With Eleven's help, Chrissy and Nancy realize that the voice that's been plaguing them for months is One, contacting them from the Upside Down and trying to set them up to be his perfect victims. With El's help, they push him out of their minds for good, and find solidarity in each other.

Art forms preferred: I'd like any art! Highest rating art preferred: M (Mature, Shows adult themes, but not explicitly)

#character: chrissy cunningham #character: nancy wheeler #character: jonathan byers #character: steve harrington #ship: chrissy x nancy #ship: jonathan x chrissy #ship: steve x nancy #ship: jonathan x chrissy x steve x nancy #rating: m #length: 5-10k #completeness: 4-6 #claim status: claimed

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elijahkelly · 1 year

Text

2/12/2023

3:04am. I'm laying here trying to sleep but my brain won't shut off. Didn't take melatonin tonight so my body is probably struggling to put itself to sleep without help.

Had a moment where I did not feel safe. Small panic attack, I was feeling very distressed, like I was in danger. It was very reminiscent of the feeling I associated with laying in bed in one of mom's old apartments late at night, Scooby Doo playing on the tv, and all of a sudden the room got really bright as a truck pulled up and parked, it's headlights shining right through the window. I felt very unsafe then, and I felt that way tonight.

Going home tomorrow. Or today, I guess. Haven't been home since my sister, brother in law, niece, two nephews, and their dog moved out of my dad's house. I have to go fill out a thing so my dad can file my taxes, Dylan needs to get his new car tags from his parents, and I want to go see my sister's new house.

My mind has been coming back to how much things have changed a lot recently. Thinking about how I used to see my family almost every day, now I'm lucky if I see them more than once a month. I used to work cleaning the gym back at home, now I'm a part-time manager of a sub-division of my department, part-time drag queen who has almost completed their bachelors in Psychology. So many people I used to know are like strangers to me, and I've met so many amazing new people. Like Osvaldo.

Ozzy is very important in my life right now. He helps to distinguish the relationships the "old me" formed from the relationships the "new me" has formed. He's quickly become one of my best friends. We talk about everything, hang out a lot, and poke fun at each other all the time. He reminds me that I do bring something to the table that gives me value enough to keep around. He's my favorite person that I've met since I started college. He helps me retain my childhood through interests we share, while also helping me to grow up. We smoked weed together recently, and it was my first time smoking real weed before. I got to do it with him and it was a real bonding moment.

In case you haven't noticed, if anyone's reading this, I kinda just let my mind wander and say what it wants to.

I need to talk about the future, because I'm scared of it and I need to rationalize it. Starting with school. I have less than three semesters of college left, and I have hardly a clue what I want to do after that. I've played with the idea of grad school, getting my masters so I don't have to have a space between. If I can get all of my school business out of the way, that'd be ideal. But what about a job? I don't know what I want to do or how I'm going to do it, which is horrifying. And I'm running out of time. Dylan's going through a similar thought process at the moment.

It feels like Dylan and I are in a weird space right now. Our relationship feels "gray," and that's the best way I can describe it. I love him, I know that I do, but I think I'm getting bored. I love him to death, and I don't want to lose him, but I feel constrained. I never had a real dating phase of my life. Yeah, relationships would come and go, but before Dylan I had never been in a relationship for more than a month. Now we've just passed two years and I'm so happy for that. But, in all honesty, a small part of me feels kinda robbed of the experience of dating in college, figuring things out, adventuring. He's my only sexual partner I've ever had, so I don't know if the sex we're having is good or if there's something I'm missing. I pined for him the first four years I knew him, so it's essentially like we've been dating for six years. And maybe it's supposed to feel this way, but it feels like we've hit a slump. Nothing really interesting is going on. Idk, I'm not sure if I'm experiencing a normal part of relationships or what, but I know for certain that I don't want Dylan to go anywhere.

I feel an intense feeling inside that something tragic is going to happen to me. I have had this feeling for a long time. Part of me believes I'm going to get cancer. Another part of me sees a potential future where I die relatively soon, like in the next few years. Yes, I know that's possible for everyone, but something in my head says that it'll definitely happen to me. I've thought about it so much that I now feel a combination of fear and calmness about it. Not like I've accepted my fate, but it has motivated me to live my life purposefully and not get too wrapped up in silly things that don't matter. I've made it a goal to have fun, enjoy my time on earth while I have it, and live one day at a time. But there's still that feeling...

I don't know why but I feel overdue for tragedy. Every couple months or so, something devastating happens to throw a wrench in the works. Back in November, we had to put down my childhood dog, Jet. We had him since I was five (15 years) and it was like losing my best friend. But that was four months ago, so it feels like something new and awful could happen at any moment. Not that I want it to, of course, but if we're following the trend of my life, something new should've happened by now to ruin my life.

Anyways, I feel like I've talked my brain down to potentially get some sleep. I hope so, because I have a lot of driving ahead of me tomorrow.

Thank you for reading this, whoever you are. If you're me from the future, I hope you're well. I hope the bad things I expect to happen have the grace to hold off, for your sake (and mine). If you aren't me, I wonder how you found this. I don't plan to disclose the existence of these posts to anyone until the absolute last possible moment so there's something to look back on and peek into my conscience throughout my life. So if you aren't me and you're reading this, did something happen to me? And if you're someone who knows/knew and loves/loved me, thank you. The people who I value most in my life are the source of my vitality and drive. If I was alone, I probably would've ended it a long long time ago. But hopefully I leave a good impact on the people in my life for the rest of the time I have. I'm getting caught up in my head again.

I'm tired as fuck, I hope it isn't hard to fall asleep. Goodnight.

#gay #lgbt #lgbtq #nonbinary #life #update

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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unabashedenthusiasttriumph · 2 years

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The Best Advice You Could Ever Get About delta 8 watermelon gummies

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One more, published in 1995, recommended that delta-8 THC might be made use of as a therapeutic procedure for the damaging results of chemotherapy. These research studies, having said that, enlisted merely a number of people, and also handful of policymakers seem to even be mindful of their presence. While delta-8 THC may be purchased in corner store as well as hemp outlets in a lot of states, over a loads united state

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"What we understand as well as we have studied whole lots of items is that there's no quality guarantee for the end product," Tranquility claimed. "Our experts know, for circumstances, that in several of the products our team have reviewed, they are actually two, three, 10 times much more centered with delta-8 than what the package claims.

Any portion of the vegetation with more than 0. 3% delta-9 is actually considered cannabis; a lot less than that, it's considered hemp. Delta-8, while typically taking place in cannabis, make up lower than 0. 1% of the plant, clarified Cassandra Taylor, Ph, D, a drug store at the FDA Center for Drug Assessment and also Investigation.

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dropmonkey87 · 2 years

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The Greatest Guide To Construction

Round figure, unit rate, expense plus, as well as time as well as materials contracts all manage products sourcing differently, so your supplier demands will vary depending upon the type agreement you prepare to use. Advertising + Sales Here is where you'll discuss how you prepare to reach prospective clients as well as transform them right into customers.

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Every company choice you make need to be very carefully considered with the goal of growing your service in mind. While promotion is essential, keep in mind that the most effective advertising and marketing approach is high top quality job that represents itself. Related Posts.

While building job may seem uncomplicated, it is a literally as well as mentally difficult job. There are lots of abilities as well as qualities building employees require to possess in order to achieve success in their work. Building and construction work included a vast array of jobs and functioning conditions, from browsing tight rooms as well as unsafe heights to running heavy tools in harsh climate.

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Some abilities you should possess include: It's also crucial to recognize and also differentiate the various types of heavy devices needed for different jobs. Strong Checking Out and also Math Skills Building job entails more than just hand-operated labor.

Those who are positive in finding out brand-new patterns will have the ability to show the remainder of their group, which is a vital skill to have for even more elderly placements. 9. Problem-Solving as well as Decision-Making Skills Issues are constantly existing on work websites. Whether it has to do with unreliable dimensions or task hold-ups, problems require to be addressed right away to make certain a project remains on track, especially when the security of workers are involved.

Synergy Construction job is quite a teamwork, requiring constant collaboration with peers. At work site, there is no time at all to lose on disagreements as well as unpredictabilities. Employees who are able to work as well as communicate well with their co-workers will certainly have the ability to motivate their team and make certain the task gets finished on time.

#Fall Arrest Systems

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cazimagines · 2 years

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A Freudian Slip - Re-edited

Synopsis: Joining your friends, Sam and Bucky on a mission, you are forced to join arms with the villian Zemo. Though you weren't thrilled by this, over the mission you find yourself growing closer to the man through an awkward and embaressing incident. Can you resist this magnetic pull to him? Or will this charamsmatic man drag you under with him?

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, use of condom's and unsafe sex, m + f oral, car sex, use of the word daddy

Author note: Today is the 1 year anniversery of me joining tumblr and joining the Zemo fandom! One year ago today our screen's were graced with the lovely Zemo and so many of us fell completely in love with him and all of Daniel's characters. I found such a lovely community here in the Daniel fandom and I'm thankful for how many of you liked my content enough to follow and reblog! It's been really encouraging for me as a writer. For a little celebration I decided to re-edit my popular Zemo fanfic, A Freudian Slip, for when I first wrote it I was still growing used to writing in second person and getting back into writing, and my writing has certinally improved since then. This was originally a three part small series but I have added all the parts together into one big one-shot here. I hope all of you who liked the original fanfic will enjoy this re-edited version and for anyone who didn't read the original one I hope you enjoy this for the first time then!

You couldn’t help the eye roll as you admired yourself in the mirror. A tight-fitting dress, made out of black silk, pleasant on your skin. It only came down to mid-thigh which even then it had a slit along the side revealing more of your legs, likely an ulterior motive of his. Zemo must have planned this from the beginning. Somehow he knew you would find yourself in his private jet, on your way to Madripoor and needing a disguise to pass for the mission.

“In order for the mission to succeed, I’ll need you to be my Baroness for the night. I have something already laid out in the bathroom; I’m sure you will find it… exquisite.”

His words still ring in your mind.

His Baroness. The thought of it sent a shiver up your spine. You had done the odd mission before but never had you had to pretend to be the lover of a wanted criminal. It didn’t rest easy on your conscience.

You glanced over yourself in the mirror again, fixing a few odd strands of your hair. You were certain he was making you wear this revealing dress just to rile you up. Like he was doing with Sam and Bucky. Something to amuse him while the three of you use him to get information. You weren’t going to let him though. You were going to flaunt your confidence in this dress. Shove it right into his ferret-like face; he couldn’t get to you like this.

Leaving the bathroom you found the rest of the jet empty, with the main exit door opened, letting in the light of the new day. Blinking you emerged and glanced down at the site before you.

Zemo’s butler had landed you in a vast but empty parking lot. Only a few cars plotted here and there. At the end of the staircase, the three men rested. Sam was looking at his phone, while Bucky stood rigid, his arms crossed as he glared at Zemo. Zemo smiled back at him, his arms neatly tucked behind his back as he stood to attention. They saw you appear out of the corner of their eyes and turned to greet you, but each of the men lacked any words to say.

Sam averted his eyes as soon as he saw just how high the dress rose on the side of your legs, while Bucky’s face flushed, his eyes lingering on your calves before he too averted his eyes, his body tensing more than you thought possible.

Zemo was the only one who continued to stare. You watched as his eyes ran up and down your body, admiring it. Admiring how the dress he ordered hugged your figure in the perfect way.

Frowning at his lack of decency, you slowly made your way down the stairs, refusing to break eye contact with the man.

“The dress suits you y/n. You look ravishing,” Zemo tells you as he holds out his hand for you to take when you reach the end.

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at his gloved hand that stretched out towards you invitingly. You didn’t say anything to him; instead, crossing your arms over your chest and gave him an icy glare.

“You have to play the part y/n”, he replies, moving his hand further towards you, but Sam brushes past him, knocking Zemo’s hand away as he steps up to you. His firm hand grasps your shoulder, guiding you away from the man as he slowly mutters.

“She doesn’t have to yet.”

He leads you a few paces away, towards where Bucky stood, hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders tensed. Sam moves to stand before you, his other hand now grasping your opposite shoulder, holding onto you with a harsh grip. He dips his head, looking at your eye level as he asks,

“Are you sure you’ll be okay with this y/n?”

You smile gently at Sam, raising your hand to brush against his reassuringly.

“I’ve done similar missions before, Sam. This won’t be different.”

You glance to your side, looking at Bucky, whose eyes were torn between looking at you and Sam and glaring at Zemo, who watched the discussion with intrigue.

“Plus, this is nothing compared to what Bucky will have to do.”

“We both have to do this mission when we don’t want to because of him.” Bucky spits, his eyes lingering on Zemo, then glancing at you as they lose their harshness.

“We’ll both pull through it.”

“You two aren’t the only ones. I would rather be anywhere than here right now.” Sam says, grimacing as he lets go of your shoulders.

“You should be thankful that I agreed to help you and kindly let you ride in my jet, but no matter now, our ride is here.” the velvety sokovian accent rings out as Zemo nods his head towards the three of you, then spreads his arm out to gesture to the approaching car.

“You might not want to play your part now, but your acting needs to be very realistic when we get out of this car.”

The car stops beside the three of you, the door stopping right by you, yet in a blink, Zemo is beside you and is opening the door for you. He places his hand in the dip of your lower back, the rough material of his glove hardly concealed by the thin material of your dress. You felt the touch linger on your skin, even if his hand was quickly removed by Sam, who pushed his way past Zemo to get into the car beside you.

Zemo let out a chuckle because of Sam’s antics. He closed the door on him and got into the front as Bucky climbed into the other side of the car beside you, sandwiching you between him and Sam at the back of the vehicle.

The car was deathly silent. You could hear how Bucky’s metal fingers tapped on the plastic lining of the car, waiting for the chance he could leap out of the confining vehicle. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise up as you glance up at the car’s inside mirror. You meet those warm brown ones, like the swirling mug of hot chocolate. You held his eyes for a mere second, then glanced out one of the side mirrors, feeling how your cheeks burn though you willed them not to.

After half an hour, the car arrives in a busy town. You could feel the energy vibrate through the ground, but it did nothing to ease your tension. Though the town was vibrant and full of unique people, there was an edge of darkness covering the side, the knowledge of how dangerous this place was tainting any other aspect.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the door was opened. Sam had left, leaving you the only one left in the car, when the gloved hand was pushed out towards you again. Zemo tilted his head, a slight smirk gracing his lips as he watched you decide.

You took his hand in yours.

Zemo didn’t let go of your hand when you were out of the car. He squeezes your hand gently as he leads you forward, being the only one knowing which way to go. He took charge in guiding you along as Sam and Bucky trail behind the two of you.

You two didn’t speak as you walked into the bar. He guided you up to the front of the bar to order as he perched himself on one of the bar stools. You suppose he expected you to sit on the seat beside him, but instead, you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and used the grasp to hurl yourself up onto his lap, stelling down comfortably. You rested the side of your head into the fur part of his coat. It was soft and tickled your skin, yet some of your tension started to fade as you rest your head. Zemo chuckled as he watched how your face relaxed. He wrapped his arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't slip off his lap. His hand seemed to fit perfectly in the dip of your hip, and gently he rubbed his hand up and down in a calming gesture.

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the comforting gesture. You hadn’t expected to feel so safe in the lap of a murderer, especially one as annoying as Zemo, but you felt safe enough that you could also fall asleep right there, leaning into the soft coat.

“Two glasses, please, one for me and my lady here.”

You open your eyes again, shaking your head as you try to push those thoughts away. You were on a mission that should be your primary focus. Your eyes dare to glance at Zemo, and you feel your insides jolting in a strange feeling as you see the side of his lips curled into a smile as if he could have read your thoughts.

The man places the drinks down in front of you. You reach forward to get yours, and you grab Zemo’s and hand it to him, to which he smiles and nods to you in thanks.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” the man says as he looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“I found her on my travels. Showing her the world,” Zemo is quick to reply before you could even think of a response. He leaned forward, and in what you have to assume was an attempt to make your relationship seem more realistic, he kissed your temple gently. He was gone before you could even blink, but you glanced at him, lips parted and a blush blooming over your skin.

The man chuckles as he observes your reactions.

“She seems quite innocent.”

You clenched your jaw as your gaze snapped back to him.

“What did you say?” you spat.

You felt Zemo’s grasp on your hip tighten in warning as he put on a smile, crinkling his eyes as he chuckled.

“Oh, I can assure you she isn’t.”

You take in a few deep breaths. Your hand itches to spin you around and slap that annoying nice smile off his lips at his remark, but you hold it steady. You glanced at Zemo, pressing a thin-lipped smile to him as you raised your drink to your lips and down the content in one sip.

It wasn’t too long after all of you had your drinks when a man approached Zemo to tell him he was unwanted.

As soon as Zemo felt the hand on his shoulder, his hands came to your hips and lifted you off his lap. He turned in his seat, and as he stood up, he stood before you, blocking your view of what was to happen, which made you huff. You watched how Zemo ordered Bucky to fight the man, and you had to bite down on your lip so as not to exclaim in anger for poor Bucky.

You moved to the side, standing next to Zemo as you watched the fight. As you stood, you felt the gloved hand brush against yours. You could have excused it as an accident, but when you felt the glove linger against your skin, you knew Zemo was intentionally doing it. A strange notion took over you. Something inexplicable, but you grasped Zemo’s hand, wrapping your fingers around the gloved ones as you continued to watch Bucky.

Bucky was quick to win the fight, and as if that was some trial, you were allowed to go and meet this Selby. Zemo took the lead, holding onto your hand as he guided you through the narrow hallways. He walked with a purpose. As if he knew this place and had been here before. He likely has, you thought, feeling a sickness in your throat as you imagined all the shady things Zemo had done, and yet here you were holding his hand as he led you into this room.

You intended to stand by Sam and blend into the background, simply keeping out of the situation and letting Zemo deal with it. So when instead, Zemo made you go with him. He practically dragged you along, and when he sat down, you were essentially made to sit back down on his lap again. You had to wrap your arm around his shoulder to ensure you were stable while his hand rested on your exposed thigh, the heat of his glove on your skin feeling like it was burning into your leg. Sam glanced at you, his eyes burning into your questioning if you were okay, and you subtly nodded back to him. Though you weren’t happy being in this more intimate situation, you could deal with it.

Zemo started talking to Selby about Bucky. The way he spoke about Bucky as if he was selling off an animal made you want to grimace, but you knew it had to sound like that to be convincing. Not that that made it any easier to listen to. You weren’t entirely sure of Zemo’s plans, for he had been very vague about everything but what you were sure of was the uneasy feeling of being in Selby’s presence. Especially as you felt her gaze run all over your body.

“So who’s this bird you have resting on your knee?”

You could feel your body freeze as she acknowledged your presence. Suddenly all time slowed down as everyone’s eyes now moved to you.

“This is y/n, quite the treasure, isn’t she?” Zemo replied instantly, moving his head to look at you as he smirked, the sides of his eyes crinkling brightly as you tried not to glare at him.

“That’s for certain,” Selby mutters.

She turned to Bucky, smirking at his still stilted posture.

“What do you think, soldier?”

There were a few moments of silence where it felt like you could hear a sweat droplet on your forehead drop till Zemo said, “answer.”

“She’s very beautiful”, Bucky replied while still keeping a straight face and looking forward.

Selby chuckles, seeming satisfied, so her eyes turn back to you, trailing up and down yours.

“She doesn’t talk much.”

“I can talk plenty when I want to,” you snapped, moving to adjust yourself in Zemo’s lap to appear more comfortable. As you wriggled and lent into Zemo slightly, you heard the slight hitch in his voice, gone instantly.

“Is she only yours, Zemo?” Selby asks.

Before Zemo got a chance to answer, you felt enough was enough. You could speak for yourself, and you wanted to make it clear to her she wasn’t going anywhere near you. The thought that popped into your mind might have been seen as drastic, even cringe-worthy, but you were determined to make her back off.

You moved your hands from where they rested against your lap to gently weave their way through his surprisingly soft and silky smooth hair as Zemo looked at you with surprise. You looked at him, feeling a jolt in your stomach from the gentle way he looked at you back. You opened your lips without thinking about what you meant to say.

“Oh yes, I only belong to daddy.”

His eyes darkened. You felt your stomach drop to the ground at the words left your lips. You hadn’t meant to refer to Zemo like that. Not like that in the slightest; it had just slipped out. You felt frozen in place, mortified as Sam’s eyes burned into your back while Zemo and Shelby looked at you with interest.

After a second's hesitation, gathering his thoughts, Zemo responded to try and keep with the situation, his voice firmer than before.

“Yes, I’m afraid this good little girl is mine and mine only,” he said, smirking while his hand patted your thigh warmly.

From the way his lips curled up into a smile and his eyes sparkled, you could tell that he took immense enjoyment in the situation and your mortification. His head tilted at you, his eyebrows slightly raised, gave off that typical Zemo teasing image. You could feel your cheeks burning, which only caused his smirk to brighten further. And yet, behind that mischievous look, his eyes portrayed something different. Something you could almost describe as soft. They started into yours, and you found that warmth from earlier again, a comforting warmth.

The two of you were so close together you could feel his breath on your lips. It fanned across your skin, warm; you wanted to steal the air away from him. With a jolt in your mind, you realised you wanted to feel how his soft lips would feel on yours, taste the delicate lips and explore further than you had thought of Zemo before.

You tried to rationalise it in your mind.

It was just a mission. It was an act. You had to do it. To prove to Selby that you were his ‘bird’. That’s why those thoughts were in your mind.

With one hand still curled in his hair, you raised your other hand and cupped the smooth skiing of his face, resting your hand against his jaw. His eyebrows quirked up in surprise, his eyes flicking between you analytically. You saw how his lips parted slightly, and then you didn’t give him any more time to react.

You press forward, pushing your lips onto his. They were soft like you imagined, and they slotted perfectly between yours as if meant to be there. He tasted of his last drink, intoxicating alcohol but mixed with sweetness as well that you couldn’t get enough of. His hand leaves your thigh. He wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you as close to him as he can, so your chest is pressed against his. He held you so tightly it would surely leave a bruise. You felt his lips prise open slightly further, inviting you in as if he had forgotten where the two of you were, only focused on the feeling of you on him.

You hadn’t forgotten, though.

After a moment, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed yourself away from those lips. Your eyes lingered on them as you swiped your tongue over your own lips briefly, trying to savour the feeling and flavour of him. Your chest heaved as you finally glanced back into those warm eyes. You had found a strange comfort in him, and his own cheeks now adorned a slight blush as his eyes started into yours in wonderment.

Your eyes were locked on each other, gazing deep into the swirls of colour as desire and unspoken longing ignited within them. You felt you could lose yourself in them till the sound of slow clapping shattered the deathly silence of the room and pulled the two of you out of your trance.

“My my wasn’t that a show,” Selby says, the sides of her lips twisting into a dark smile.

“I didn’t know you still had that in you Zemo.”

“Well…” Zemo trails off, finally looking away from you.

He shrugs his shoulders, shooting a smirk at Selby as he titled his head, putting back on that self-confident mask.

Selby seems satisfied with the show the two of you put on because business resumes. Zemo carried on selling Bucky to Selby while you sat on his lap, hardly paying attention to anything that was spoken. You could tell everything was okay, though, that Zemo was getting closer to figuring out who they go next until the shrill sound of a ringtone cuts through his words.

Wide-eyed, you turned to the source of the sound. Sam stood frozen, anxiously glancing around as his phone rang out loud, capturing everyone’s attention. The colour drained from Zemo’s face as Sam was forced to answer the call in front of everyone.

All that happened next occurred so quickly it felt like a blur to you. Sam screwed it up. They figured it out. But before you could leap into action to fight, Selby was shot. Right in front of you. You felt frozen by the shock of her dying so suddenly in front of you. But Zemo had already snapped into sense as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you out of the building.

He held onto you to guide you along as you, him, Sam, and Bucky tried to leave without looking suspicious. But it was a lost cause. Bullets started to fly in every direction in an attempt to hit you and the others. Sam and Bucky instantly charged forward to escape, and you were poised to do the same, yet with Zemo’s grasp on your waist, he instead pulled you along with him. He pulled you down a hidden alleyway where the gunfire didn’t follow the two of you.

“We need to catch up with Sam and Buc-” you shouted, trying to prise Zemo’s grasp off your waist to chase after them, but instead, Zemo used his body to back you up into a wall and cage you in.

“What-What the hell?” You asked, stunned.

You looked up into his face, only inches away from him again. You could see every little freckle, every little mole that scattered his skin, and for the first time, the thought occurred to you how pretty they were on his face.

“Daddy? That’s quite the title.” he purrs.

“Are you seriously going to do this here!? Right now”

“I don’t believe we will get another chance of a private conversation without Sam and James. They don't exactly like me being around you,” he mutters, still staring down at you, his eyes refusing to move away.

You can feel your cheeks burning bright red. His intense gaze in your eyes forced you to glance away, trying to forget the fluttering feeling in your stomach that started to overwhelm you.

“There’s nothing about it; I was just playing my role.”

Zemo takes his hand, placing it under your chin and turning your face towards his. He leans in, his lips almost touching yours.

“You were very convincing.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your eyes drop to his lips. It was as if you could still feel their softness against yours. The sweetness of them melting you. Zemo moved forward, letting his lips graze against yours, then he pulled back. His eyes look back into yours as if asking a million questions, yet none leave his lips. His hand reaches up to push part of your hair covering your face back behind your ear. As you felt his hand graze the side of your face, the draw to lean into his touch was overwhelming.

“I…” You start but trial off.

“Perhaps…” you try again.

“Perhaps it wasn’t all acting”, you finally mutter.

A cocky smile creeps onto Zemo’s mouth.

“I thought not.”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me”, you angrily reply, and Zemo doesn’t hesitate to give you what you ask.

His lips crash onto yours with a lust-driven force while his hands wrap around your legs, lifting your body up against the wall so you can wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat, your hands melting into the softness as you tug at it and feel his lips move against yours. Your hands don’t stay there for long, though, for Zemo grasps your wrists within his hand and raises them above your head, making you unable to move apart from kissing him back just as passionately. A disappointed moan leaves your mouth as his sweet lips leave yours again, but it turns into a quiet gasp as he places a chaste kiss against your jawline. Then he moved a few inches further and pressed another searing kiss to your skin. He moved from your jawline to your neck, trailing, kissing all over your skin as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in the feeling of him upon you. It felt so perfect though it shouldn’t. His kisses were electrifying, and you felt like you might die if he stopped now. When his lips found the natural dip of skin on your neck and started to suck a bruise into your skin, claiming you as his, you couldn’t help the mewl of pleasure that escaped your lips.

“Y/N!? ZEMO!?” you hear Sam shouting in the distance.

Zemo sighs, his hot breath fanning over the already forming bruise on your skin as he slowly pulls away from your neck.

“It seems our time together is over, for now, little one.”

Gently he lets go of your wrists and helps you stand back on the ground. You whisper a shy ‘thank you’ to him, to which he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

“My pleasure, little one.”

You rolled your eyes at him over romantic reaction, but you couldn’t hide the flush on your cheeks which he chuckled at. He held onto your hand, rubbing his thumb over where he had kissed it as he guided you forward to where you two could hear the voices of Sam and Bucky calling out for you.

“Madripoor knows how to give New York a run for its money,” Sam says as the five of you walk through the build-up trailers. They towered over you, trapping you in a labyrinth, and you just hoped Sharon knew where she was going.

“They know how to party,” Zemo replies.

He quickened his pace to walk up beside you. You could feel his eyes flicker to you, watching your face, but you continued to look ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. When you felt his arm brush up against yours. Your body stiffened at the contact, refusing to move your arm to him. Instead, you walked faster to step up beside Bucky, leaving Zemo in your wake.

You couldn’t face him after what had previously happened. You refused to. You knew the person he was. You knew the sorts of things he had done. How deeply his actions had affected your life for the worst. You had hated him for what he had done. You despised the man.

Yet when you looked at him, the warmth you had grown to love spread through you again. The butterflies kicked him as you saw his smile. His gravel accent made goosebumps rise on your skin, driving you wild. When you looked at him, you could still taste the sweetness of his lips on yours, and you craved them again with a fever. And what affected you most was those eyes. Those eyes you had managed to be drawn to in a way that felt unreal. The intensity of them and your feelings for them felt out of this world. He made you feel alive. As if with him, you were taking a breath of air for the first time. He made you feel self-conscious for the first time; he made the blush rise on your skin which no one else had even succeeded in before. He made you feel confused.

Earlier, at Sharon’s party, you were watching him. You ever in half a mind to join in the party, but you held back this once. You watched as Zemo walked around the room, turning left and right, trying to find you. Almost like a lost puppy. Eventually, he gave up on his search, through and danced by himself. Alone on the dance floor. You smiled as you watched him, feeling smitten by the silly way he danced as if no one else was watching him. In those moments, he seemed so innocent. He hadn’t killed multiple people like he hadn’t split up the avengers. He was simply a nice guy who enjoyed dancing.

You wanted to join him, but Sam and Bucky were already becoming suspicious, and you didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. When they found you and Zemo again, Bucky pulled you to the side to check you were okay after Zemo ran off with you. He also asked about what had happened with Selby. If you were okay, that he was sorry, Zemo forced himself onto you. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. But it made you realise you had to nip this in the bud. While you could. This couldn't go on. You had to distance yourself before you were in too deep.

You swallow, pushing away the thoughts of you and him as you try to focus back on the mission at hand.

The five of you arrived at the crater, and Sharon handed you all earpieces to wear. You placed it in your ear, wincing at how uncomfortable it was. It was then Sharon left you lot. Sam looked at you three before stepping into the crate, to which you quickly followed. It was pitch black in there, and even with squinting your eyes and trying to focus them, you couldn’t see anything.

Zemo was following up behind you, and as you stopped in your tracks to look around, his body walked into the back of you. You stiffened, feeling his body press up against yours. His arm reached around, squeezing yours gently as he stepped to the side and passed you. Though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smirking at your reaction.

Zemo pulled out a flashlight that was concealed inside one of his pockets. He turned around and briefly shone the light in your eyes, a mischievous smirk curling at his lips as you groaned in annoyance. He turned around and shone it forward to see the back wall of the crate. He walked forward, reaching his hand out to touch the wall, then pushing it. The wall moved, revealing it as a hidden door. Music flooded the room as the path opened to the four of you. Zemo glanced back around to you, Sam and Bucky as you pulled out your guns in preparation. Sam and Bucky step forward into the pathway, and you follow behind them as Zemo holds the door open for you. His hand rests on the dip of your back as you walk past. The constant felt like a burning sting against your cool skin, and in an instant, you shook his handoff. Zemo turned to stare at you, his eyes burning into your head, but you continued to walk ahead, not giving him a second glance.

The song ‘Comin home baby’ plays out of an old record player as you walk into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around the room. Rounding the corner of a shelf, you see a man dressed in a science coat bent over a table, singing along to the song playing. He was unaware of the four of you approaching him as he quietly sang along to his music, and so when Sam grasped him and pulled him away from the table, he was taken by surprise. Sam and Bucky started to question him on the super-soldier serum while you and Zemo stayed back in the background, observing the man but not adding to the conversation.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed over to Zemo as he walked around the room. He had a commanding presence, from the way he dressed in that long coat, his purple sweater tucked into his black combat trousers, tied with a belt that he held onto as he strutted around the room. It made your knees feel like buckling. Zemo’s eyes snapped to yours as he felt you smiling, and he tilted his head at you, his thin lips sneaking up into a curl from catching you staring.

You look away, staring ahead, willing your cheeks to stop burning.

Just when it seemed as if Sam was getting somewhere with the man regarding information, Sharon ran into the room.

“Guys, we’ve got to go.”

Zemo leaps into action, which in his case was revealing a hidden gun he had found, pointing it at the Doctor and shooting the man directly in the head, instantly killing him.

“NO!” both you and Sam shouted as you rounded on him, staring at him wide-eyed.

Sam crashes into Zemo, pushing him against the wall to prevent Zemo from being able to harm anyone else in the room.

You took a step forward to help Sam restrain Zemo by grabbing the gun off him, but the crate exploded before you got a chance.

You were flung onto the floor. Your head collided with the metal floor and a searing pain spread along the back of your head. A yelp of pain escaped your lips as your brain felt like it had been shot, and the licks of searing heat from the flames danced on your skin.

Groaning, you raised your hand to the back of your head, lifting it up from the floor as you tried not to feel sick from how the room revolved around you. When you felt your hand touch something sticky on your head, you pulled it back and found it covered in fresh blood.

“Shit”, you choked out, trying to wipe your hand on your trousers to get rid of the blood, but it had already stained your hand.

Not concentrating on what was happening around you, you felt an alarm flare in you as arms suddenly wrapped around your waist and pulled you off the floor. You were too weak to stop the person, so you let the firm grasp on your waist pull you out of the fire-lit room. You raised your hand to your eyes, rubbing them with the back of your palm to try and get the dust out of your eyes. You were able to blink it away as you emerged into the sunlight. Blinking, you could see the pair of hands on your waist belonged to the Sokovian man as he rounded around the corner out of sight from the burning crater just as you heard it explode behind you. He glanced around the area to ensure no one was around and then rounded on you.

“Are you okay?” Zemo questions you and takes a few steps toward you. His eyes glance you up and down as he tries to take in all the injuries you had sustained in the explosion.

“I’m fine, Zemo. Were they still in there!?” you ask hurriedly as you turn around, trying to see the crate.

“They’ll be fine. Come, we need to go,” Zemo insisted, grabbing hold of your hand again to pull you along.

Your head exploded in blinding pain as you were rushed forward, but you bit down on your bottom lip to stop a hiss leaving your lips as you were dragged along again.

“Where are we going?” you ask, but Zemo doesn’t answer. He pulls you along and then guides you to climb on top of a crater to get a bird’s eye view of everything happening below.

“Zemo!” you exclaim, pulling out of his grasp to glare at him, teeth bared, but your eyes bulge as he pulls something out of his pocket.

“What the fuck is that”

“My mask, ”

“Since when have you had a mask!” you exclaim, shooting him a look.

“I’ve always had one. Now you need to duck,” he ordered, his sharp eyes looking into your eyes, and then he turned to look over the edge of the crate.

“Why should I do that?”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. He leans over to you, harshly grabbing your arm and retching you down onto the floor, making you let out a muffled complaint.

“Can’t you listen to me for once, y/n’’ he mutters under his breath.

He grabs your gun, which you had managed to drop when he pulled you down, and then, as quick as lightning, he pulled his mask on and walked to the edge of the crater. He shot at something a few times and then aimed for a pipe. As he shoots, the pipe explodes, and the shock wave flows through you, making you collapse to the ground. The crate felt like it was spinning as the blood loss started to take hold of you, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

On hearing the sound, Zemo spun on his heel to look at you. Seeing you now on the ground, he rushed back to you, falling onto his knees to try and help you up. He placed his hand on the back of your head to help you up, but when he held the stickiness of your blood soak into his gloved hand, he pulled back. Seeing the amount of blood covering his hand, his eyes widened and then glaring down at you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he seethed through his teeth.

“I’m fine”, you managed to gasp out, but as he placed his hand under your head again, another groan left your lips.

Zemo huffed as he gave up trying to help you get back up. Instead, he pushed one arm under your legs and grabbed the side of your leg while his other hand went under your back. Ensuring he had a tight grasp on you, he lifted you up, which made a gasp leave your lips. Quickly you wrapped an arm around the back of his head for security; in this moment, not thinking about the closeness of the situation as Zemo started to run while he held you bridal style in his arms.

After a few minutes of searching, he finally let you stand on your own. As he placed you down, you staggered, almost collapsing back onto the ground, but he grasped your waist again, steadying you. You were forced to lean against Zemo, arm around his shoulder as his hand rested on your waist as he helped you along. He let go of you to open one crate, though and as he saw the contents inside, he pulled off his mask and smirked. You let out a groan and shook your head as you watched Zemo disappear into the crate and then emerge a minute later driving an expensive car.

He gets out and opens the passenger seat door for you. He wrapped his arm around your waist again as you put your arm around his neck to let him help you into the car. Neither of you speaks. He knew you were too embarrassed to, and at this moment, he didn’t want to push you.

Zemo drove around the labyrinth of crates till you two could find Sam, Bucky and Sharon, who were thankful to see you alive. Begrudgingly Sam and Bucky got into the car while Sharon left and let Zemo drive them to a new hideout he knew off. One of his old summer homes.

On arrival, Zemo quickly left the car to get to your side and help you out, but you were already opening your own door and attempting to get up. As soon as you stood up, though, you felt a rush of blood leave your brain. You stumbled, and if it hadn’t been for Bucky catching your arm, you would have fallen over.

“She needs medical help,” Zemo ordered as he opened the door to the house.

Bucky gave you over to Sam, who guided you in, as strangely Bucky said he wanted to go on a walk. Sam proceeded to ask you a load of questions as he helped guide you to one of the sofas in the main room of this house. Zemo went to one of the many cupboards and pulled out a medical kit which he handed to Sam. He hung back as Sam tended to your wounds, wrapping a bandage around your head.

When you finally started to feel relaxed as Sam finished up, Zemo appeared beside you and gave you a glass of whiskey.

“To get rid of the pain,” he says, nodding at you to encourage you to take a sip.

Zemo pulls out a chair to the side, only a few inches away from you. He gently raises his hand and places it on your bandaged forehead.

“Zemo”, Sam growls, noticing the action.

“My apologies,” Zemo quipped, removing his hand. You couldn't help the way your heart felt like it sunk a little in your chest at the loss of his contact.

With the pain slowly easing, you felt lulled off into a light sleep as your energy crashed from everything that had been happening over the last few days. You don’t know how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, the pain in your head mainly had vanished and you felt okay to sit up. Looking around the room, you noticed no one else was around. They had seemingly left you on your own here.

Gathering your strength, you stood up from the shower and started to walk around the room, curious about Zemo’s house. As you walked nearer one room, you noticed the sound of rushing water emerging from the other side of a door. Gently you knock on the door, and in seconds, you hear the water stop.

The door is pushed open slightly, and the sly face of Zemo appears in the crack. As he sees it as you, he reaches forward to grasp your arm and pulls you into the room with him, shutting the door behind you. You gasped, taking a step back, your back hitting the door as you stared at his state in shock.

“I-I didn’t mean to come in here; I just wanted to see who was around”, you mutter as your eyes flicker up and down Zemo’s body. He had wrapped a fluffy black bathrobe around his body, but from the way it dipped, exposing part of his chest, you were sure it was the only thing he was wearing, and that thought made you blush heavily. Instead, you tried to distract yourself, focusing on the necklace hanging from his neck, but Zemo knew what thought ran through your mind.

A deep-throated chuckle emerges from his throat as he watches how your eyes wander. He crosses his arms around his chest, tilting his head as a bright smile finds its way to his lips.

“Enjoy what you see?” he purred, his accent sending shivers up your spine.

“N-no,” you say.

Feeling embarrassment flood through your body, you turn to open the door and leave to escape the situation, but Zemo wraps his arm around your waist and pulls your body back to him. You flinch as you feel the way his body pressed up against your back, the bathrobe doing little to conceal the feel of his body against yours. You could smell freshly applied aftershave and it made your eyes flutter as if it was intoxicating and addicting. Gently you feel his lips on the skin of your neck, placing a delicate kiss on the vein that throbbed under the skin, beating in quick succession. You felt a moan tear from your lips as you closed your eyes, wanting to get lost in the feeling of his lips against your neck, but he suddenly pulled away from you, letting go of you to stand back.

“How’s your head?” Zemo asks, raising his hand to touch the bandage.

You turn your head slightly, shooting him a glare from the sudden loss of contact.

“I’m fine.”

“Forgive me, little one, for not believing you, but previously you have lied about saying you were fine.”

“I feel better than before…thank you for helping me.”

“It was my pleasure,” he whispers against your ear as he steps forward again to press his body into yours. You could feel how his chest moved with every inhale and exhale, and you let out a gasp as you felt something particularly hard press against your ass.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” he asks abruptly.

“I haven’t”, you were quick to reply, but you heard Zemo let out a huff behind you.

His hands touch your waist again, and he spins you around and pushes you back against the door. You were caged in again by his body, captured by the warm eyes that now seemed to burn into yours as his dead tiled.

“Don’t lie to me y/n.”

Under his gaze, you felt like you could melt. These new feelings made you so conflicted internally, which made your skin burn as you narrowed your eyes at him, swallowing before speaking to him.

“You are a villain, Zemo! You’ve innocent people, and I should hate you because of it. I should want to rip your guts from you; I shouldn’t be… I shouldn’t be thinking these other thoughts.”

He leans towards you, his lips grazing yours, “Such as?”

You pause for a moment, knowing you shouldn’t step over this line, but you couldn’t help it.

“Kissing you. Touching you… making love with you.”

“Oh? Such scandalous thoughts. I assumed you above such things.” Zemo purrs, his eyes seeming to sparkle as he looks at you.

“Stop teasing me!” You whine, raising your hands to grasp the edge of his bathrobe and pull his lips to you, accepting this guilty pleasure you wanted.

“Ah y/n,” he says, capturing your hand on his chest.

“I want you to make a promise before we get anywhere.”

“What?”

“Please…don’t ignore me.”

You look into his eyes, and for once, it was like the mask he always wore, of a self-absorbed man, slipped away. You were staring into the sadness below. The eyes of a desperately lonely man.

“I promise, but Sam and Bucky can’t know.”

Zemo grins, his teeth flashing.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

His lips crash onto yours, the passion evident as he sucks on your bottom lip with need, letting out a little groan as you return the kiss just as passionately. He pushes his tongue into your mouth as his hands wander up and down your body, wanting to feel every inch of your skin. Leaving nothing explored. Pulling back from the kiss for a second, he roughly grabs your arms and pulls you over to the sink, where he lifts you up and places you on it. You let out a loud gasp as he presses his face into the dip of your neck, trailing hot kisses over every inch of skin that he could reach.

Slowly he starts to move his hands down, trailing over your stomach, prising the hem of your trousers away from your skin to slip his hands in. They felt so warm against your bear skin, and when you felt his hand slip past your underwear, you couldn’t help but buckle your hips in anticipation. You moaned as you felt him rub a finger through your folds, pulling upwards to graze against your clit. You throw your head back slightly at the contact as the bolts of pleasure travel through your body.

Zemo smirks against your skin and watches your reactions, but his lips don’t leave your skin as he sucks a hickey against your collarbone. Needing something to hold onto other than his bathrobe, you grasp his neatly styled hair, tugging at it roughly, which spurred Zemo on as he let out a breathy moan against your skin.

He pulls his hands away momentarily to grasp your trousers. Tugging at them, he is able to slip them down your legs, then he works on your underwear and finally your shirt and bra so that he can see every inch of your beautiful body.

You attempt to grasp the bathrobe to pull it away from his body, but cheekily Zemo ducks down before you are able to.

His palms firmly grasp your thighs and slowly parts them to expose your core to him. Zemo trails kisses up your legs, gradually getting closer and closer. Your legs felt like jelly, and they shook in his grasp as you anticipated the feeling of his lips on your core. Noticing this reaction, Zemo chuckles and looks at you with a mischievous grin.

“So needy for me”, he jested.

Before you could get in a single word as a comeback, he moved forward and wrapped his thin lips around where your clit was and gave a deep suck.

You chuck your head back, your chest puffing out as a loud moan escapes your lips at the sensations of Zemo sucking on your clit relentlessly. Your hands find their way to his hair again to tug and pull at it as he flicks his tongue over your clit, rubbing it against you to make your hips buckle into his face.

“Be careful, Y/n, these rooms are not soundproof”, he says, releasing his lips from you momentarily, but you are beyond the point of caring. You wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him back to you.

His fingers ghost your core, rubbing through your folds to pick up all the slick coming out of you. He played with you for a few moments, delighting in how wet you became from him. After another groan escaped your lips, he slipped two of his fingers inside you with ease. He pushed up to his knuckles, curling his fingers into that spot that made your body shake from the pleasure. He stretched them apart inside of you and slowly started to pump them in and out of you, picking up his rate as he licked at your clit. The moans spilt from your lips now from the overload of sensations lighting up the pleasure in your body. You couldn’t think of anything other than how good Zemo was making you feel and how handsome he looked buried between your legs, kneeling before you as he pleasured you.

“Zemo”, you gasp as you feel a knot in your stomach tighten.

“Zemo, I’m going to-” you break off, unable to finish the sentence as you finally release, seeing stars swarming your eyesight.

After a few moments of feeling like floating on cloud nine, you were brought back to reality. You felt how Zemo ran his tongue through your folds, attempting to drink as much of your release as he could. You looked down as he pulled away and shuddered as you saw his lips wet from you, his chin covered in your release as he licked his tongue out to run over his lips.

He pulls back from you and gracefully stands up. His eyes trail up and down your body as you lie there recovering from your pleasure.

“As beautiful as a glass of cold water on a warm summer’s day,” he whispers, trailing his hand along your leg in comfort.

You reach forward, grabbing hold of his bathrobe and tugging it down his body till he wasn’t covered anymore. You smiled, finally able to see the body you had been craving. His body was toned, not muscular per se but with enough to see the hint of abs on him. Light hair covered his abs which suited him perfectly. His body was firm, strong, and slight bulk made him so incredibly hot to you. Your eyes wander down to his hips. How the v line looked delectable. His cock was hard before you, a drop of precum already swelling on the tip as his patience started to wear thin. You knew he might be a touch fit; while good in length, his thickness was another matter.

Zemo swiftly moves over to a draw, pulling out a condom. Tearing it open with his teeth, he pulls the condom out of the package and slips it onto himself.

He steps back to you, his hand reaching out to you, wrapping around your body. He rests his head on your shoulder as, in one hand, he grasps himself while his other hand holds your body. He rubs the tip of himself over your folds, coating himself in your wetness till he can’t hold back any longer. A gasp escapes both of you as he pushes his hips forward, his hand guiding him to sink into you. You moan against his ear, your nails marking his back as you drag them down, feeling how deep he slips into you. It takes him a second but he manages to push your walls open as he bottoms out. He rests for a moment to allow you to get used to the feeling of being so full, but slowly he starts to pull out and then gently rocks his hips back into you. He tries to be gentle at first but hearing you moan and feeling your nails dig into his back, and how your walls clench him, he starts to pick up his pace as he thrusts inside you. He lets out grunts, his eyelids fluttering as he feels the way your walls ripple around him in pleasure. He hadn’t felt something so good in such a long time that he was slowly losing his mind in the sensations. You place a few kisses on his chest, leaving a claiming mark of your own on him. Feeling your lips suck at his skin was electrifying, and he grasped your chin, forcing your lips away from his chest so he could kiss you deeply again as the slaps of his balls against your skin and the wetness of your core echo in the room as he chases his pleasure further.

“Y/N”, he gasps, pulling back from your swollen lips to stare at you with half-lidded eyes as his chest heaves. A smirk curl onto his lips, though as a thought crawls into his mind as he slams into you.

“Are you going to call me daddy again?”

You flush bright red as Zemo brings back the memories of that night.

“Damn you”, you rasp out between moans.

He chuckles, leaning towards your ear.

“I don’t mind if you do.”

His cock pushes deeper to you at that moment, hitting that one spongy spot inside of you that made you cry out in pleasure.

“There, Daddy, please”, you gasp, and he complies, attempting to hit the spot again within you.

He grunts with every thrust into you now, starving off his release so you could reach yours first. His hand sneaks down to your core again, his two fingers finding your clit and starting to rub circles that made your body quiver. You shut your eyes, your head falling back as you let out a loud moan, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as your walls bore down on his perfect cock inside of you.

You reached forward to pull Zemo’s chest against yours, your hand going into his hair again to yank it, feeling your release crash down on you. Zemo’s eyes closed as he moaned from the vice grip your walls gave him and the feeling of your release exploding over his cock. He thrust into you a few more times as you whimpered from the over sensitivity, but his lips found yours again, moaning against them as his release cums. Slowly his thrusting stops, and he breathes heavily against you as you both try to recover.

You two stay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. Eventually, as his cock softens, Zemo pulls back. He slips his condom off and throws it in the bin before coming back to you. He kisses your hot and sweaty forehead gently while his hands brush the hair away from your face. He cradles your chin again, pulling your face up so that he can kiss your delectable lips again.

“You were a goddess, little one.”

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest. He dropped him down onto the sofa where you had rested not too long ago. Zemo was dead to the world, though. At least for the moment. The bruise on the side of his head, thanks to John Watson, was enough proof of that.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. He looked so peaceful. His lips pulled up into a natural smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken.

“I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo’s peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than at them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them.

“Sam and I have been doing that as well, and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky says roughly, stepping forward, but Sam grabs hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look, y/n, we’re just concerned about you. Zemo is a criminal; he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily as you curl your lip.

“You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says, but Bucky interrupts him.

“Yes. I know him, y/n; that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already; I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you.

“I don’t want to argue with you, y/n. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again,” Sam says, and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerned look at you over their shoulders, then disappearing.

You sigh, looking back to Zemo, who still slept peacefully, unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his sweet lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You couldn't believe how far this addiction to him had come. Sure, you had certainly noticed that he was handsome the first time you saw him. But that’s where you thought it had ended. You knew what he was, and you thought you hated him because of it. But when that moment happened on the mission. When you sat on his lap, called him ‘daddy’ and kissed him, your whole world and perception of him changed. Everything that happened afterwards made your cheeks burn. He was so passionate. So earnest. No wonder you had managed to fall so hard.

Your eyes flickered over to the bathroom door. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

Your heart had seized when you saw how the shield collided with Zemo and how he had collapsed onto the floor. Not thinking about your actions yourushed over to him, kneeling down to cradle his face in your hands and checking him over. John peered down at you as if you were dirt.

When Sam and Bucky ran into the room, you could feel their judgemental stares as they noticed you and Zemo.

While your eyes lingered on his face, lost in your thoughts, Zemo’s eyes slowly cracked open. He moaned as his face scrunched up. He raised his hand, using the back of his palm to rub his eyes. You shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel. You brought it to the sink, turned the cold water tap and soaked it under. When you felt the flannel was drenched in cold water, you turned the tap off, wrung the flannel then took it over to Zemo.

He smiled at you gently as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat.

“Thank you”

“I’ll get you a drink,” repaying the act of what he did when you were the one lying on the sofa.

“You’re kindness to me is admirable, y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered, his bright eyes glancing up to look at you.

“Will we always tread the line between fondness and detest for each other?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing him a glass of whiskey.

“I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you that, well that I love, and I can’t let it go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannel off his eyes, turns his head and lets his eyes wander over your tensed face. You met his stare, holding eye contact though you wanted nothing more to slink away and hide.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you,” you whispered, desperate to not let silence take over the room after what you had said.

His eyebrows furrowed, his face softening, and he continued to look at you.

“I apologise for frightening you, y/n. I- I never thought I would love again since my wife passed away, and though I still love her, you enthral me. You live in my mind constantly, your smile etched into my brain. I want to know everything about you, to feel every inch of your soft skin. To touch and kiss you everywhere. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way that it frightens me.”

Your heart felt like it had stopped beating. You looked into his eyes, your mouth parted, and slowly you reached out your hand to grasp him. His thumb runs over your knuckles delicately, and you feel the heat swarm inside of you.

“Zemo I-”

You hear the sound of the door creaking, and both of your heads snap to the entrance to see Sam and Bucky walking through. As quick as lightning, you dropped Zemo’s hand. You jumped up from where you were sitting and slowly strolled to the other side of the room, not wanting to hear any more from Sam and Bucky about you and Zemo.

Zemo’s eyes watched you as he sighed, glancing at his hand once more and flexing it, still feeling the remembrance of your hand holding his. He brings the glass you made for him to his lips, taking a sip and then he pulls the flannel back over his eyes and settles back on the sofa again.

Bucky disappeared again, likely wanting his space, whereas Sam grabbed a seat and pulled out his laptop to try and find some information on Karli. The silence of the room was suffocating. At least you felt that way as you paced. Sam seemed to intently focus on his laptop while Zemo just laid back and sipped his drink. You pulled out your phone and glanced through random apps for something to do to mind the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo’s voice finally breaks out. Sam’s gaze leaves his laptop to glance at you, then at Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum.”

“No.”

You glance between them, curiosity spiking. Sam clearly didn’t want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint or, more likely, choosing to ignore it.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies with a harsh tone to his voice,

“No.”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo admits, nodding his head.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a grunt.

“Sam,” he continues as he holds the flannel, gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes to become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

Your gaze moves to the ground as you frown, thinking over Zemo’s words, whereas Sam answers without hesitation.

“Isn’t that how god’s talk?”

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, not speaking up for once.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky? Blood isn’t always the solution,” Sam finishes.

There was a moment of silence as you thought over Sam’s and Zemo’s words. The sound of a door click breaks the thoughts from your mind. Bucky struts in, glancing over at the tensed appearance of the three of you. You move from your spot, walking over to where Zemo had sat up, moving so you could sit beside him. As you take your seat, making sure there is space between you, he places his hand on your knee. Your eyes flicker to each other, words speaking in silence. His warm eyes bore into yours, but there was a misery in them, something you were sure was also reflected into yours.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you reply.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees.

The two of them break into an argument about the Shield, making you sigh in frustration. Just when you were about to stop their bickering, the door of the villa bursts open and John Walker and his partner storm into the room.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Sam and Bucky walk into John’s path, preventing him from advancing on Zemo. You stood up from the sofa to stand next to them, but Zemo grasped your hand and pulled you back. You looked at him, watching as he stood up, but he shook his head slightly, his eyes burning into yours. You furrow your eyebrows, questioning him but he doesn't give any explanation.

On the other hand, he passes you a bottle of whiskey. He picks up his glass and walks over to the kitchen counter, pulling you with him. In this odd display, you weren’t paying attention to the situation with John until a spear flew past them, embedded into a pillar.

A light gasp left your lips as the Dora Milaje stormed in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, her tone harsh and biting.

“Release him to us now”, she demands in English.

Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says, walking over to them to assert himself. The Dora Milaje stand still, refusing to acknowledge his presence, making John stand there awkwardly.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks, and we can talk this through, huh?” he says patronisingly.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns, but it falls on deaf ears.

John Walker continues to antagonise them till he takes a step too far and places his hand on her shoulder, and all hell breaks loose.

You and Zemo stand back as the fight breaks out. Zemo sips his whiskey as he watches with amusement. He glances at you and raises the glass, inquiring if you want a sip. You smile at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, nodding your head and letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Eventually, Sam and Bucky join in the fight, seeing that John was losing, and losing badly.

You started to step forward to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Not now, little one”, he mutters.

He peers around, watching the fight and the surroundings while you glance at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What the hell, Zemo?” you whisper harshly, glancing around as if trying to spot something Zemo was looking for.

“We need to go”, he whispers urgently and pulls on your arm, leading you to the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo, wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

Zemo’s eyes flickered around the room again, observing the fighting and then looking back to you, his skin paler than before.

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you, and it calmed all the questions and suspicions in your mind.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“You know them better, and I do, and I know they will manage well. Please y/n, I want to spend this precious time I have left with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, staring into those pools of warmth and nodding, making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. Quickly he grasps the bathtub in the room and heaves it to the side, revealing a hole in the floor. A passageway into the sewer.

You wrinkle your nose as you stare down into the dark hole. Zemo comes to stand beside you, pursing his lips at the rancid smell.

“I will go first if you prefer,” he tells you, but you shake your head. He places his hand on the dip of your back as you move to step onto the ladder and slowly start to descend down the ladder, grasping the metal tightly in your hand so you wouldn’t slip.

It only took you a minute of climbing till your feet hit the wet concrete below. It was pitch black in this passageway, but when Zemo managed to get down to the ground, he pulled out the flashlight he had from before and turned it on, illuminating the sewer in a creepy light.

He grasped your hand again, taking charge to lead you a certain way.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, holding your hand to your nose to try and block the smell.

“My apologies, y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically.

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you flinch back. He notices and lowers the light slightly, so it isn’t blinding but still illuminates your face.

“I owe you a great deal for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you met meer days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble.

“But it’s okay. Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. He stares at your face for a moment, drinking you in, till he pulls you to him and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, his soft lips moving on yours as you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended.

He pulled a few centimetres away, his lips still brushing against yours.

“Thank you, little one.”

His nickname makes a shiver work its way through your spine. The breath leaves your lips as you feel your cheeks burn, shown by the flashlight. His classic smirk appears on his face as he watches your reaction. He leans forward again and places a quick kiss on your cheek, and then continues to lead you down the passage.

After around 10 minutes of walking, you reach another ladder that Zemo gets you to climb up. You had never been so thankful to breathe in the fresh air. You close your eyes to feel the breeze of air and sunlight on your face till Zemo makes you get out of the way so that he can get up onto the surface as well. You had emerged on the side of a road, and of course, by the side of the escape, there was a car waiting for you.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” you say, a chuckle escaping your lips as Zemo holds up some car keys he had been keeping hidden. He opens the passenger seat door to let you in and then quickly gets in on his side, starting up the car and driving off.

“Is this car yours, or one you had stolen?” you ask, running your hands along what you sure was expensive material.

“I believe you won’t like the answer.”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives.

“And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Eyes on the road, mister.”

“Mister? I’d prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan and hide your face in your hands as Zemo reminds you of the moment you wished you could forget.

“You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I find it most pleasing,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask, trying to direct the conversation somewhere else.

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country. The knowledge of his previous family, his wife, and his son, comes back into your memory.

“I want to see the memorial,” he explains, glancing at you.

You stare forward at the road, though, nodding silently.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded, leaving a chilling tension between you two. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns the key, killing the car engine and then, in his seat, he turns to face you.

“It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look at him, then away again.

“I don’t think so.”

“Y/n”, he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you exclaim, feeling a burst of energy in your body as you snap your head and glare at him. You purse your lips, though, realising how much anger had just flared up in you.

Zemo stares at you for a few moments, his face pulled into concentration, but it detenses as recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes.

“This is about my family.”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you know how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thinks over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together, breathing in a deep breath as he prepares himself for what to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them more. They were everything to me, and after their deaths, I was filled with pain and anger. I couldn’t see anything else apart from revenge, and I made sure I got it. I never thought I could move on from them. But I love you y/n. I am honest. I never thought this old heart could love again. But with you, I know I can. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt as if an enormous weight was suddenly lifted off your shoulders with his words. Tears sprung to your eyes though you tried to blink them away. Seeing the tears, Zemo panicked, his eyes widening and sitting up straight to try and comfort you, but you grinned at him and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

He moves his fingers to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, desperate. He moves forward to his seat, capturing your lips with his. Unlike the passion from last time, this kiss was gentle, like he was trying to savour you. You melted into the kiss, feeling completely overwhelmed with its gentleness. You had to grasp the soft fur parts of his coat to try and pull him closer, ignoring how, in the kiss, you could feel his lips smirk.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps, and you nod your head quickly.

You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can climb into the back apartment of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as you climb through and as he follows you after. He sits down in the middle seat, and instantly, you pull yourself onto his lap, straddling his waist. The grip of his hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your soft skin as you bring your lips back to him while grinding onto his lap, feeling the wrt stain start to build on your underwear.

A smirk pulls onto your lips as you feel a bulge press into you through Zemo’s trousers, making you grind down harder on it to hear the little gasps leave his lips.

“Let go of me, Zemo,” you murmur, pulling away from his sweet lips.

Hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist, his eyebrow-raising slightly as he watches you move.

It was hard moving in a limited space, but you were able to get onto the floor, sitting on your knees as you grasped Zemo’s legs and pushed them apart so you could slide in between them. You reach up, grasping the zipper of his trousers and, while holding eye contact with him, pull it down, exposing his boxers. Next, you tucked your hand under the waistband and wrapped your palm around the warm cock hardening by the second. Zemo’s breath hitched as you pulled his cock out of his boxers, exposing it to the cool air.

Some pre-cum was already appearing at his tip, and it made your mouth water, imagining the taste. You stuck out your tongue and lent forward, kitten licking at his tip to lap it up. You could hear Zemo’s gasp as you teased his most sensitive part, and you noticed how his legs tensed as you continued to lick at his cock. You dipped down, licking down the shaft and then tracing the throbbing vein back up to the tip again. Feeling mischievous, you tease his poor tip, licking at it and hovering your lips near but not doing anything else.

Finally, Zemo moves, his patience growing thin. His hands grasp your hair, his fingers wrapping into his securely. He pushes your head down, guiding his hard cock into your mouth. He was gentle, not pushing you down too far, just about half way but you moved further down his cock, feeling the tip of him hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Zemo let out a lustful moan, his eyelids fluttering from how good it felt to be inside your wet mouth. His head rolls back as he focuses on the heat of your tongue pressing along the underside of his cock. You suck your cheeks in, making your mouth constrict around his cock more as you start to push your lips up and down his cock while your hands take his base and balls and begin to stroke and play with them. Zemo’s grasp on your hair tightens as he lets out louder moans now, his hips thrusting up into your mouth, making you gag on his cock again. He started to push your head faster on his cock, grunting as his cheeks turned red from pleasure, and just when you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, he pulled you up, off his cock and grasped his base, squeezing it delaying his oncoming release.

He grasped your arms and lifted you up, pulling you over to the seats. You let him move you, pushing you down to where you were lying on the back of the seat, staring up at him, already parting your legs.

“Forgive me, little one”, he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and push them down, exposing your pants.

“I need to feel inside you.”

He runs his finger up them chuckling, feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes.

“We don’t need one”, you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you. You moved your hips up, practically begging for him to be inside you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside with a slight more roughness than last time, slipping into you.

You moan, feeling him stretch you out, but as soon as he was in you, he drew back almost entirely out of you. His hips snapped back into you, pushing your body up and down the car seat. Your moans were mixed in with his grunts, his hands grasped your hips, his cock pushed into you perfectly.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into the skin as your body moves up and down with his. He settles his head on your shoulder, pressing kisses to your hot skin as he chases his high. Every time he pulled back from a kiss, he whispered something in his husky sokovian language. You couldn’t understand what he said, but from the look on his face you knew it was endearing.

His fingers moved down to find your clit, rubbing it with precision. It felt like a shock wave of pleasure washing over your brain. You let out a series of loud moans as you felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter. Knowing you were close, Zemo’s pace started to speed up while he thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot inside you. You didn’t even get a chance to warn him as you came, your walls fluttering and grasping his cock as it washed over him. Zemo groaned into your neck, feeling your walls clamp down on him. He was on the edge already, and feeling you come around him triggered his own release. You let out a soft moan as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, spilling his warm seed into you.

He pants heavily, his cheeks flushed, but finally, his shining eyes meet yours.

“I love you, little one,” he whispers.

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too… daddy.”

He chuckles, his eyes glowing as they stare into you. Slowly he moves out of you, though, ensuring he wouldn't hurt you as he helps you clean up and make yourself comfortable again. He helped guide you back to the front seat, placing kisses on your body whenever he got the chance till he was back in the driver's seat again and set out on the road.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo drove with one hand on the wheel while his other hand rested on your thigh. You two either talked about things you thought of or sung along to music on your phone. The hours felt like they slipped by like minutes till he pulled up beside the sokovian memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo slowly walks up to the sculpture. His eyes don’t leave it as he looks at it. The wind waves through his hair, billowing his coat. He doesn’t say anything at first, but he slowly starts speaking in Sokovian, getting what he needs to say off his chest. After that, he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears.

“The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way, I don’t mourn it as much as I did previously, for it led me to you. I don’t blame you for their deaths. You had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack, similarly to Sam and James. What I’m trying to say, though, is that it has been my pleasure to spend these last moments with you, y/n.”

Your eyes jumped to him, and a frown appeared on your lips.

“These last moments?”

The sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You spun around on your heel, your eyes widening as you saw Bucky approaching. Your head snapped back to Zemo, glaring at his remorseful face.

“Zemo, what the hell is going on?”

A small smile appears on his lips as he looks to the ground and then back up to you, but there is no joy in his eyes. He leans forward, his cold hands grasping onto yours.

“I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you, y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; your heart dropped out of your chest at the words.

“… What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky, standing back, letting you two have your private moment, but he looks to the ground as your eyes meet his. You glance back to Zemo’s, whose face is now desperately looking at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state.

“Y/n…”

“No!” you shout.

“Y/n I-” Bucky says, walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after… after everything that has happened,”

“I know I should have told you y/n, which I apologise for, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me; I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come.”

Tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him. He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay; I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you, little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, but the romantic moment is drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turned around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do, you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so soon from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots.

“Zemo”, you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him.

Sure enough, as you arrived, you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away till you can't see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky.

“y/n, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that.”

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robertreich · 3 years

Text

Why the PRO Act is Critical

Something I've just learned about Amazon -- one of America's most profitable and fastest-growing corporations, headed by the richest man in the world:

According to the Labor Department’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration, Amazon warehouse workers sustained nearly double the rate of serious injury incidents last year as did workers in non-Amazon warehouses.

In addition, largely because Amazon failed to provide its workers adequate protective equipment during the pandemic, the corporation admits that nearly 20,000 employees were presumed positive for the coronavirus.

Workers who spoke out about these unsafe workplace conditions were fired.

Amazon boasts of paying its workers at least $15 an hour. But that comes to about $30,000 a year, hardly enough for a family to get by on.

The explosive growth of Amazon’s army of poorly-paid and ill-treated hourly workers is emblematic of the long-term decline of America’s middle class and levels of economic inequality America hasn’t seen since the late nineteenth century’s Gilded Age.

This has strained the social fabric of the nation -- fueling anger and frustration, a rising tide of drug overdoses and deaths of despair, even tempting some working-class people to embrace Trumpism and white nationalism.

The success of Amazon’s “shock and awe” campaign against workers who dared try to bring a union to their Bessemer, Alabama warehouse exemplifies the immense political power the architects of this growing inequality now wield.

It’s an alarming omen of the future.

In Amazon warehouses like Bessemer, workers are treated like robots. Algorithms relentlessly impose dangerous production quotas. They get two 30-minute breaks each ten-hour day. Every movement is monitored.

Amazon delivery drivers report being instructed to turn off their safety apps so they can meet their quotas.

Others report having to urinate into bottles because of delivery timing pressures.

Even though public support for unions is as high as it’s been in 50 years -- 60 million American workers would join a union today if they could -- Bessemer workers were outgunned by a behemoth whose market capitalization exceeds Australia’s GDP.

The National Labor Relations Act makes it illegal for employers to fire workers for trying to organize a union. But the penalties for violating the Act are so laughably small (rehiring the worker and providing back pay) that employers like Amazon routinely do it anyway.

Amazon may be the future of the American economy, but if that future is to have room for the kind of prosperous working families that fifty years ago defined American capitalism, unions are critical.

In March, the House of Representatives passed legislation designed to level the field. It’s called the Protect the Right to Organize Act (PRO Act). The Senate version has 47 Democratic co-sponsors. It needs three more to give the PRO Act a fighting chance of getting to Joe Biden’s desk.

The PRO Act would end many of the practices Amazon used to defeat the union effort in Bessemer. Real penalties would be imposed on companies and corporate officers who retaliate against union advocates or otherwise violate the National Labor Relations Act.

The PRO Act would make it easier for workers to form a union, with the aim of protecting them from unfair working conditions.

The PRO Act alone won’t end economic inequality or return prosperity and opportunity to America’s working families. But passage of the PRO Act would help.

It would also send a clear signal that ours is truly a government “of the people” -- such as the million people who work for Amazon today, not the one multi-billionaire at the top, and of the vast majority of Americans who are working harder than ever today and getting nowhere, in America’s Second Gilded Age.

#NLRB #unions #labor unions #Amazon #Jeff Bezos

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