#to my excuse my favorite helmet on him fucks severely
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I just need you to know your tags on that post about Boba Fett made me realize HOW MUCH of Legends-era Boba Fett I didn't know about and now it is my goal to hunt every book and story down because dear gods he's even more amazing than I realized
Ahhhh omg yes he's the best and worst in all the best ways. Thank you for giving me another excuse to talk about him!
Okay so start with the Twin Engines of Destruction comic by Andy Mangels and John Naedeau, that is THE epitome of Boba Fett. (#he had no face just the helmet that WAS his face #he canonically gives money from successful jobs to orphanages WHAT #when he found out someone was impersonating him AND BOTCHING JOBS he set that fucker up SO GOOD #he literally took the man apart physically spiritually and emotionally and left him paralyzed staring at his own about-to-explode jetpack #and put the antidote to the neurotoxin in front of him said ''you may survive if you have the will to move...like i would'' and WALKED AWAY) Genuinely just...this is it, this is him, this is everything anyone ever needs to know about how to write Boba Fett.
After that I'll recommend moving onto the Boba Fett: Death, Lies, and Treachery comics (consisting of "Bounty on Bar Kooda," "When the Fat Lady Swings," and "Murder Most Foul") by John Wagner and Cam Kennedy (probably my favorite Fett comic artist; their style is wonky yes but it fits so well!). Boba Fett: Agent of Doom is another one drawn by Kennedy that is excellent, although it's written by John Ostrander (who did the best Clone Wars comics btw) instead of Wagner. Also I personally like to headcanon the last one actually being about Ailyn Vel, but that's neither here nor there. Your best bet to find these is probably the Star Wars Legends — Epic Collection: The New Republic vol 7 tpb but Marvel is shit about keeping their SW comics in print, so good luck.
Also definitely worth reading are K.W. Jeter's Bounty Hunter Wars trilogy of novels (#he surgically removed his olfactory pleasure sensors so he wouldn't be affected by space pollen shit #he'd drop an entire mine on top of himself to get his mark if he had to and then just dig his way back out #he once used the dying body of the closest thing he had to a friend as a laser canon to kill some tin-can hutts #he had his fucking SKIN DISSOLVED and still sat up to shoot a bitch #he walked onto an exploding star destroyer just to have a conversation AND THEN FLEW IT RIGHT BACK OUT AGAIN) but I will say that the quality of them varies wildly between different sections...but it's one of those "even the bad parts are good, despite being terrible" books, if you know what I mean!
No Disintegrations, Please! is a short-story from the Tales of the New Republic collection, and that's the one that features Fett walking through an Imperial Garrison to get his mark that I was thinking of when I made the post (although it seems that tag didn't save? or I just can't find it again amidst all the unhinged shrieking of the rest of them lol) although he also took on a garrison in one of the comics and in another comic he went through a wrecked Star Destroyer full of murder-droids and TIE patrols so like...not an out-of-the-ordinary endeavor for him lol.
Payback: The Tale of Dengar, also from one of the short-story collections, in this case Tales of the Bounty Hunters, is where Dengar gets Fett to be his best man, although alas the wedding itself is never depicted anywhere, at least not that I've seen. (Although if you'll permit an extremely immodest self-rec, I did write about it once in a fic...) My favorite moment in this story, though, is when Boba Fett pulls a straw out to drink without removing his helmet. Too bad no one apparently ever mentioned that features to Din Djarin; would have made his life considerably easier. And yes, I was the person shouting "use a straw you idiot!" at the screen several times, to the vast amusement of those watching with me.
And of course, Susejo a.k.a. the Sarlacc mentioned in the original post is from A Barve Like That: The Tale of Boba Fett from the short-story collection "Tales From Jabba's Palace."
For new stuff that still feels like classic Fett, Age of Rebellion: Boba Fett by Greg Pak and Bria LaVorgna is really the only thing that comes to mind, but it's quite a lovely little one-shot.
*If you have trouble finding Twin Engines of Destruction let me know. I have the whole thing saved on my computer because I love it so much, although I will say that the digital format/coloring does it no favors.
#NER BOB'IKA!#(i'm sorry but if the base foundation of your boba fett characterization doesn't stem from ''twin engines'' what are you even DOING?)#also i went back through my boba fett tag to find links for this op and i have to thank you#because there is some fucking GOLD in that tag that i did not remember#lmaooooo#boba fett#favorite characters#star wars#star wars eu#twin engines of destruction
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Marshal Commander Hardass
Pairing: Commander Cody x Reader
Rating: Explicit (minors dni)
Warnings: light degradation (use of the word cockdumb mostly), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before u tap it)
Word Count: ~3.4k
A little (and by little I mean several thousand words) something for one of my favorite Clone Commanders. This is one of several current WIPs, so it felt good to finally finish this one up! Hope you all enjoy lovelies <3
*Read on AO3* or under the cut!
You huffed as the door to the bar swung open and half a dozen clone troopers walked in. You were used to seeing a single soldier here and there, but a large, fully armored group meant trouble. Sighing, you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with a regular patron and returned to your place at the center of the bar.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you deadpanned, not at all in the mood to have to deal with the war today. Your planet had been lucky enough to stay relatively neutral, but the arrival of the soldiers reminded you how fragile that neutrality was.
“Good evening, miss,” the presumed leader of the group said. His armor was slightly different from other clone troopers that had stumbled across your bar in the past; his helmet was framed by an orange visor, and a rank insignia was affixed to his chest plate. “We’re looking for a man named Tost. Do you have any information about his whereabouts?”
“No,” you snapped, hoping to shut down the conversation. “If that’s all, I do have patrons to get back to,”
“Are you sure? Any information would be very helpful--” you waved a hand dismissively, silencing the trooper.
“I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to get caught up in this war. All it does is bring destruction to the planets it claims, and we refuse to offer ourselves up for annihilation on a silver platter,” you said impatiently. “So either order a drink or get out of my bar,”
The regular you were chatting with earlier snorted at your little speech, and a very drunk group in the back broke out into a loud cheer. You raised a single, challenging eyebrow at the soldiers.
“Come on, the General is probably waiting for us,” another clone spoke up from the back of the group. The leader nodded, not even turning to look at the clone who had spoken, seemingly too transfixed on you.
“You’re right, Boil,” he said calmly. “If you can think of anything that would be helpful to the Republic cause, please don’t hesitate to come to one of our outposts. Ask for Marshal Commander Cody, and I’ll see to it that your information is in good hands,”
You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest defensively. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,”
As the troopers filed out, you were sure that you could hear one of them swearing at you, but you chose to ignore it.
Later that night, when darkness had fallen completely and drunk patrons would fall off their stools every so often, two of the soldiers came in and tucked themselves away at a corner table. You grumbled a swear under your breath before walking over to the table and standing there, a single hand on your hip. The clones, now without their helmets, looked up sheepishly at you.
“I know you told us to get out earlier, but we’re not here for the Commander. We just want to unwind and have a drink,” one of them stuttered, obviously reciting a speech he had planned since before they walked in. You softened slightly as you watched the two men; it wasn’t their fault they were stuck in this war. Offering them a small smile, you took their orders and brought them their drinks, a little extra poured on top as a sign of goodwill.
“What’s up with them?” one of the men sitting at the bar asked you.
“Don’t know for sure,” you replied. “The whole squad came in earlier, asking for information. I get the feeling their commander is kind of a hardass,”
“Bet they just need to blow off some steam then,” the man said, and you nodded in agreement. With a sly look, the man glanced over at the troopers. “I’m sure you could offer them a much better way to relax,”
“You’re such a creep,” you deadpanned back, and the man laughed. “Besides, I don’t think clones are really my type,”
The door swung open with a clatter, and the orange-visored Commander stood in the doorway once more. You winced at the sudden loud noise.
“Is that Commander Hardass?” the man at the bar asked, and your grimace was enough to answer his question.
“Crys, Wooley, get back to camp,” the commander ordered, not even needing to raise his voice. The tipsy clones mumbled apologies and tossed a handful of credits on the table before shuffling out of the bar.
“What the hell!” you snapped at the clone commander. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“It was their turn for watch,” the clone said, sliding onto one of the unoccupied stools at the bar. The man you were speaking with earlier looked between the two of you, amused. “I’d like a drink. Corellian whiskey,”
“It’s after last call,” you lied.
“Since you won’t give me any information, the least you can do is give me a drink,” the commander said, taking off his helmet and setting it on the bar next to him. You stood there for a moment, simply taking the clone in. He somehow looked older than the other clones; perhaps it was just exhaustion from the war. His face was partially marred by a scar, but it only served to make him look more striking. It was the challenging look in his eyes, however, that made you pour him a glass of whiskey.
“So, you must be Commander Hardass,” the man at the bar said. You braced yourself for a fight, but instead, the clone just sipped on his drink, not even glancing at the other man.
“That’s Marshal Commander Hardass,” the clone replied. “But I much prefer to just be called Cody,”
“Well, well! We’ve got a big man in charge, here!” the man said, obviously inebriated. You glanced at the clock on the wall; it was probably time to start clearing everyone’s checks.
“I think you’ve had enough, hun,” you drawled to the man, taking his now empty glass away from him. “You should be getting on home,”
“Come on! I just wanted in on the fun!” the man protested, but Cody shot him a glare, and the man dropped credits on the bar and left without further complaint.
You went about your nightly duties of wiping down tables and clearing tabs, only having to break up one drunken argument before it turned into a brawl. By the time you were finished, the Commander was the only person left in the bar.
“Time to go,” you said, voice clipped. Cody looked up at you, still nursing his glass of whiskey. You couldn’t help but find yourself staring as an errant drop of liquid ran spilled over his lip and down his chin, trailing a path down his neck. You swallowed hard.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and chat,” he countered, as if daring you to throw him out once more.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” your reply was weakened by the slight crack in your voice as you watched Cody grip his drink tightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly in his throat as he swallowed the whiskey, and your eyes traced over the movement.
“No more little speeches?” he taunted you. “I even went so far as to buy a drink,”
“I told you, I don’t know anything about the guy you’re looking for,” you said, a hint of resignation in your voice. “And if I did, I have no reason to trust you,”
“Your lack of trust certainly isn’t stopping you from eye-fucking me from across the bar,” Cody countered, and you blushed bright red. So he had noticed.
“I think you may be misconstruing my looks, Commander,” you tried to regain your blasé attitude, but it was no use.
“No, I think I’m quite right,” he said mildly as if he wasn’t laying all your dirty secrets on the table for him to peruse. “For someone who hates the war, you sure do seem to want a big, bad soldier to put you in your place,”
You gave up on trying to act aloof: “Hating the war and recognizing a good fuck aren’t mutually exclusive,”
A gloved hand fisted into your blouse and pulled you over the bar, and Cody crashed his lips into yours with so much force you felt your teeth clatter together. As you melted into the kiss, you weren’t quite sure if you had won your little battle of wills with the Commander, but at the moment, it didn’t seem to matter.
With surprising grace, Cody climbed over the bar and pushed you backward, framing your body by placing his arms on either side of you. He kissed you once more, less violent, but no less passionate. When you let out a soft whimper, Cody seized your moment of weakness and slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Mm, cyare, look at you,” he breathed out, and you felt your face get hot at his praise. One gloved hand ran over the curve of your hip and up the side of your ribcage, before dragging up the side of your neck and gripping your chin between his fingers. “Absolutely at my mercy,”
As much as you were sure you looked the part of a good submissive, eyes glassy and mouth slightly agape, you refused to give him the satisfaction of having won so easily.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Commander,” you taunted, dropping one hand to press against his codpiece. He hissed at the contact, even though it wasn’t direct, and you smirked.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Cody said darkly in your ear. “Don’t get in over your head,”
“I won’t,” you replied confidently, mustering up all your strength to keep your voice even, despite the way one of his large hands was kneading the flesh of your waist. “I’m quite sure that you’ll be a mess for me by the end of the night,”
It was like you had flipped a switch in Cody’s head, and any sort of softness he was holding onto flew out the window. The hand that was gently touching your waist soon captured your wrist in a bruising grip, and he pulled you flush against his body.
“Is there somewhere more private that we can do this?” he asked, and you nodded frantically.
“I have an apartment above the bar,” you managed to stammer out.
“Good,” Cody said, grabbing his helmet and dragging you up the stairs by the wrist. You followed along but made sure to walk slowly, just so he’d have to put the extra bit of effort into getting you there. As you resisted, his fingers tightened slightly in warning.
When you had gotten upstairs and into the bedroom of your small apartment, Cody finally released your arm. He dropped his helmet on your dresser and pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you again. You whimpered as he slipped a hand under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.
“Cody--” you gasped between kisses, but Cody only smirked and pinched your nipple roughly. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, trying to press into his touch.
“No, no. Address me with respect,” he said, and you whimpered as he looked down at you. One of his legs slotted between yours, and he held himself over your chest with his free arm. All you could think of was how he looked over you.
“Commander,” you said in a mockingly sweet tone. Cody growled and kissed you again, this time trailing kisses and soft bites down your neck and jaw. The hand that had been covering your breast was now toying with the edge of your shirt, and you pulled back to let him take it off. When your shirt was discarded, Cody made quick work of your bra, and you had to hold back a moan as he looked at your now exposed chest reverently.
“See something you like?” you teased, but the dark look in Cody’s eyes shut you up immediately. He looked near feral, as if he was trying to stop himself from lunging at you right then and there. Involuntarily, a grin started to creep across your face.
“Something funny, pretty girl?” Cody said, reaching out and grazing his thumb over one of your nipples.
“You just look so eager--ah!” you were cut off as Cody took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers. You could feel him smirk against you as you continued to whimper, your breathy moans turning needy as he continued his work.
“You like that, sweet girl?” he teased, sitting back so he could watch your chest heave as you sucked in labored breaths.
“Cody, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now,” you said, but your threat had no force behind it. Nonetheless, Cody started to remove his armor, his eyes never leaving yours.
“You’re not very patient,” he said, one eyebrow raised.
“I’ve been known to be a bit demanding at times,” you said, pleased that you got what you wanted.
“The only thing you’ll be by the time I’m finished is a cockdumb little whore,” Cody challenged, and you swallowed thickly. He had finished taking off his armor and was now pulling his shirt over his head, and you tried to memorize the plains of his body as quickly as you could. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as he relaxed, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin trail of dark hair that crept down below the waistband of his blacks.
“See something you like?” he parroted back your earlier words. You nodded, and Cody smiled as he tugged you closer to him once more. His hands worked at the button on your pants, and before you knew it, he was shimmying the garment down your hips, leaving you in just your panties. With a gentle push, you fell back against the bed and Cody positioned himself between your thighs.
“You’ve soaked through your panties, pretty girl,” Cody said, tracing one finger lightly over your slit. You whined, trying to jerk your hips up for more friction, but he merely chuckled and placed an arm over your hips. “No, you’ll take what I give you,”
“Yes, Commander,” you looked down at him with glassy eyes, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over you was almost too much. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Cody pulled your panties to the side and dove in, lapping up the wetness you had already created before wrapping his lips around your clit. Your mouth dropped open with your loud moan.
“For all your bravado, you’re quite easy to control,” Cody said, voice rumbling against you in a way that sent sparks flying up your spine. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it; the way he was working your body right now, you would’ve committed murder if he’d asked. His tongue traced lazy circles over your clit, occasionally dipping down to thrust into you for a moment, making you squeal.
“Ahh! Commander!” your moans were whiny, and you could almost feel Cody’s ego inflating as you writhed underneath him. Suddenly, he slipped one thick finger into you, and you clenched around it so hard that Cody throbbed in his blacks.
“That’s it, take my fingers. Have to prepare you for my cock, pretty girl,” he growled before giving your clit another teasing lick. A second finger joined the first, and you bucked your hips up to meet them. Cody laughed. “It’s so easy to make you squirm,”
“Don’t get smug on me,” you tried to scold him, but it came out as a whine. You could rapidly feel your orgasm approaching, and you tried to warn the man underneath you, but your words all turned into moans as you tried to form them.
“Come on, pretty girl, let go for me,” Cody ordered, and you did as he asked. Clenching around his fingers, you whimpered as he worked you through it. It wasn’t until you were too over sensitive to bear it that he finally pulled away.
“Holy shit,” you said dreamily, head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm. Cody kissed you once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Commander, please,”
“Please what?” he said back, and you rolled your eyes.
“You know what I want,” you said, trailing your hand down until you could rub him through his blacks. He groaned as you palmed him, and you smiled innocently.
“Ask for it nicely,” Cody teased. He was nearly as impatient as you were, however, and he was already reaching for the waistband of his blacks.
“Please fuck me, Commander,” you said, rolling your hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. Your shame had flown completely out the window, your brain now singularly focused on the man above you.
Grinning eagerly, Cody pulled off his pants and discarded them, and your mouth hung open slightly at the sight of his cock. You quickly closed it when you heard Cody snort in amusement, and pouted as he lined himself up.
“You still want this?” he asked, face so close that you could feel his breath on your neck.
“Stop teasing and just do it already!” your voice pitched up as he slowly pushed himself in. You could feel him stretching you, and Cody swore under his breath as he bottomed out.
“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned, rocking his hips slightly to let you adjust to the movement. You hooked one leg around his waist, trying to pull him deeper into you.
“Please, I’m not gonna break, Commander,” you gave him your best doe eyes, and Cody growled and thrust into you hard, pushing you up the bed slightly. He kept a steady pace, making sure to press his cock as deep as it would go with every thrust. He grabbed the leg that you had wrapped around his waist and pulled it up until it was sitting on his shoulder, letting him hit a whole new angle inside you.
Your whimpering turned into loud moans as he continued pounding into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside of you that sent spots flying through your vision. Cody gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as he fucked you. His face was dusted pink from exertion, and his pupils were blown so wide that they nearly eclipsed the soft amber of the iris.
“That’s my girl, taking me so well. Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Cody groaned, his grip on your chin tightening. “Want my pretty girl to feel good,”
“So fucking good, feel so big inside me,” you stammered, unable to think about much other than the way he was fucking you. Your back arched off the bed as Cody dropped your chin and trailed his hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on it.
“There’s my little cockdumb girl,” he said, a tinge of admiration in his voice. “Taking me so fucking well,”
“Yes, please, anything!” your words were jumbled, but Cody seemed to know what you meant. His thumb worked faster on your clit, and you squirmed, trying to lean into the touch and wriggle away from it at the same time. Cody held you in place, watching your chest heave as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said, and you did, a broken moan of his name on your lips. He fucked you through it, his thrusts getting erratic as you tightened around him. As you trembled with the aftershocks, you were able to see Cody pull out of you and jerk himself a few times, before spilling all over his hand and your stomach.
“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” you said. Your voice was still a little shaky, and Cody laughed at how fucked out you sounded. He swiped a towel from your attached ‘fresher and cleaned you off, before falling into bed beside you.
“Practice,” he said smugly, and you rolled your eyes. “So was I?”
“Hmm?” you mumbled sleepily, snuggling your face into the clone’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you comfortingly.
“You said I looked like a good fuck. Was I?” he said, kissing the top of your head playfully.
“Well, I’m not completely cockdumb like you said I’d be,” you said, a mischievous smirk on your face. Cody sat up, a wicked look in his eyes. A surge of arousal pooled in your stomach.
“Guess we’re not done, then,”
#commander cody#marshal commander cody#cc-2224#commander cody x f!reader#commander cody x reader#commander cody smut#star wars#star wars smut#star wars fanfiction#tcw#the clone wars#the clone wars fanfiction#the clone wars smut
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I’m laughing thinking about Ward going through the 5 stages of grief after learning Rafe has a boyfriend
ward cameron when rafe tells him he’s a raging homosexual:
fic under the cut!!
the dinner table is silent, save for the noises of forks and knives clinking against porcelain.
rafe stares down at his steak, mouth watering but refusing to eat it. he has plans later, after all, and steak is not kind to his bowels, despite how delicious it may be going down.
his bowels do not need to be in a twist for what’s in store for him later.
barry would probably murder him in the front yard of his trailer - it has been a week since they’ve been able to see each other, after all. and as barry had so eloquently put it on the phone earlier, rafe needs to be prepared to be “taken down to pound town, back around, and down again”.
not like anyone at the table needs to know this, but rafe imagines he’ll get questions soon enough about his lack of enthusiasm towards his meal.
almost as if she could read his mind, rose fixes rafe with a calculating look and asks, “rafe, why aren’t you eating? that’s a perfectly good steak, i don’t want it going to waste.”
going to waste, rafe thinks with an internal snort. everything in this house goes to waste - it’s just part of living on figure eight. everything is disposable, everything is replaceable.
“rafe, eat your steak,” ward insists with a sigh, not looking up from his plate. “i’m not in the mood tonight.”
in the mood for what, rafe has no idea. ward is acting like rafe is a fussy 4-year-old who he has to constantly battle with to eat his peas, when in reality ward couldn’t give less of a shit about what rafe does or says or eats on a daily basis, so long as it’s not making the family look bad.
the thought alone has rafe gritting his teeth, glaring across the table at his sorry excuse for a father.
“i’m not hungry,” rafe lies, folding his arms across his chest.
ward sighs again, like this 2-second conversation has pained him greatly, still not looking up. “i’m not arguing with you, rafe. eat the damn steak or leave the table. no one is in the mood for your sulking.”
rafe makes a face, then rolls his eyes. “i’m not sulking. but whatever, i have to be somewhere anyway.”
he scoots his chair back, ignoring sarah eyeing him warily from the seat adjacent to his.
“be somewhere? it’s almost nine,” rose questions. she raises her brows at rafe expectantly.
rose is looking at him like the stern stepmother she pretends to be, acting like she actually gives a shit where rafe is going, when the question was really only asked to ensure that whatever rafe is doing, it won’t reflect poorly on everyone else.
never mind that rafe is nearly 20 years old and can go wherever he pleases. he’s also gotten sick of this notion that every move he makes will somehow make them all look bad and tear the family apart. despite the fact that sarah is the one who’s openly dating a pogue, one who’s basically a walking red flag.
barry may live on the cut, but at least he doesn’t brand himself the king of pogueland.
rafe narrows his eyes at rose before making a split-second decision.
“well, my boyfriend gets off work late, so yeah. i have somewhere to be at nine,” rafe says offhandedly, like it’s no big deal, like everyone already knew he was a massive fruit who’s been on his knees for his local coke dealer for the past six months.
the sounds of silverware clattering onto plates fills the room, and rafe feels ridiculously satisfied with himself for getting a reaction. he loves to see these idiots squirm.
he’d rather see them all choke on rat poison, but barry is insistent that he won’t continue fucking rafe if he goes off and kills his whole family.
barry is lucky rafe loves him, because honestly, not being allowed to murder people who irritate him is kind of a buzzkill.
“you- who- your what?” ward sputters, the first to break the heavy silence.
“my boyfriend,” rafe repeats slowly, enunciating, treating ward like he’s the stupid, petulant child he constantly claims rafe is.
rafe watches ward’s face go from pale, to pink, to violently red. there’s a set to his jaw and rafe just knows ward would give anything to leap across the table and wring rafe’s neck right this very moment.
“no, nope, absolutely not,” ward snaps, furious in his denial. “not my son. no.”
“ward- ” rose starts, but ward cuts her off with a swift wave of his hand.
“do you realize how this will look for us if anyone finds out?” ward spits, holding his fork in a white-knuckle grip.
sarah actually speaks up on rafe’s behalf, which is probably the most shocking reaction rafe has gotten so far.
“dad, come on. it’s 2021,” she says with a sigh, shaking her head. “besides, rafe being gay is probably one of the only good things about him. or, wait, are you bi? or gay?”
sarah questions rafe casually, like this information doesn’t come as any kind of shock to her. rafe makes a mental note to revisit that later, along with her comment about it being one of his only good traits. she’s looking at him almost in earnest, and for a brief moment rafe is transported back to a time when he actually liked his sister.
“not that it’s any of your business,” rafe starts, glancing at her, “but i’m gay. thanks for asking. anyway, like i said, i have somewhere to be, so- ”
“not a big deal?” ward hisses, cutting him off, clearly still stuck on sarah’s surprising defense of rafe’s sexuality. “not a big deal? sarah, it’s- no, see? no. we aren’t talking about this.”
Despite his own declaration, Ward continues, “what about all those girls? all those girls you hung around with? the ones you brought around? you know you can still have them over from time to time. i know we talked about respect and responsibility, but i suppose a man does need to let loose every now and then, and if it’ll help- ”
this time, rafe is the one to cut ward off, not in the mood for his pathetic attempt at bargaining.
“dad. dad. i’m gay,” rafe says firmly. “forget about the girls. it wasn’t what you thought.”
ward opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to form some sort of coherent response. then, he buries his face in his hands, groaning.
“why is it always something with you, rafe?” ward mumbles through his hands, sounding defeated. “can we not just have one day? one day without your life overshadowing everything we’ve worked towards?”
rafe rolls his eyes at ward’s dramatics. “how does me liking dick ruin anything for this family?”
“rafe, wheezie is right here!” rose admonishes. wheezie just chokes on her water, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.
“sorry, wheeze,” rafe tells her, feeling only a little bad. “but i’m just saying. half the guys on figure eight go both ways. it’s seriously not a big deal.”
ward finally looks up at rafe, crossing his arms before staring for a long stretch. long enough that rafe starts to turn to go, itching to get away and back to the one person who doesn’t make him want to rip his hair out.
“fine,” ward finally says just as rafe turns on his heel. “fine. but don’t- don’t expect me to meet him. or like him. and for the love of god, don’t bring him to important events. whoever he is, he’s bound to draw attention.”
that’s very, very true. and rafe has every intention of dragging barry to the next auction or gala or what the fuck ever, clad in one of his stupid sleeveless t-shirts and basketball shorts and his hair in a messy, tangled bun - the whole nine yards.
he’s dying to see the look on ward’s face when he shows up to some black-tie event with barry the cocaine king slash dirty mechanic slash army vet in tow.
“so is that it?” rafe asks, sounding bored even to his own ears. “can i go now?”
ward still looks like he wants to slam his head through the nearest window, but he nods. accepting the truth that rafe has forcibly laid out before him, albeit reluctantly.
rafe nods back, turning and walking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling a tune that’s far too cheerful given the looks on everyone’s faces as he exits the dining room.
his favorite is ward’s, still looking angry and defeated and resigned to his acceptance of rafe’s preferences all at once. rafe hops onto his motorbike, yanking on his helmet with a smile.
barry will be proud of him, he thinks. not only did he finally come out to his family, but he also didn’t feed them rat poison during the process.
baby steps. he’s taking them one at a time, very carefully, and he thinks that’s something at least.
maybe barry will reward him for his efforts, rafe wonders, just before revving his bike to life and speeding off the property.
rafe deserves a reward, in his own personal opinion. and after all, his opinion is the only one that matters, really.
maybe barry’s, too, but only when it suits rafe. if that happens to be more often than rafe would care to admit, well. that’s between him and Jesus.
the night air is cool as it whips around him, and rafe looks forward to the warmth of barry and his shitty little trailer, not sparing a single thought about the mess he just left in his wake.
rafe presses harder on the gas, heading towards home.
#rafebarry#outer banks#i hope this along the lines of what u were wanting nonnie!!#thank u for the req mwah 💋#my fics#ask#anon
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Hey hope all is well I’m the one who gave u a prompt about jay and Kori AU about uni or work meeting for the first time etc I thought I would share a jay and Kori story on fan fiction. net it’s called heroic tendencies by cuttin classics it should be easy to find its 26 chapters and complete hope u enjoy ps u can call me miss geek lol
Hey, miss geek! I will totally read the fanfic you recommend. I will link it HERE for anyone who wants to as well.
Now, I thought about not writing this, but... well, here it is. I hope you like it.
Prompt: Jason attends a work meeting and falls in love at first sight with the cute redhead.“I want her.”
“What?”
Richard looks at him like he just lost his mind. He might as well have. He is blaming it on her and those beautiful green eyes.
“I want her to be my assistant.”
“To assist you in what? All you do is waste Bruce’s money,” Tim scoffs, kicking his crossed ankles off of the table. “Why are you even here.”
“And why the fuck are you here,” Jason grunts, straightening on his chair after losing his balance. He catches her eyes following his abrupt movement, and it makes him slightly nervous. Slightly. “I thought your dad decided to save us all from the shame of being related and took you back.”
Richard sighs, massaging his temples. “I don’t even want to think about how these meetings will go when Damian is old enough to be present.”
They keep quiet as the girl in question approaches, leaving a folder for each one of them. Jason leans back on his chair, fearing that if she comes too close, he will spontaneously combust. The new angle makes him look at her ass. Fuck. He wants to die as he feels his pants tightening.
“Are you okay, Jason? Maybe you’d like to ask miss Kori something to drink?”
Fuck you very much, Tim.
“I’m fine,” he grits between his teeth. The girl―miss Kori―blesses him with a gorgeous smile. Jason feels his face burn. “Thank you,” he stammers.
“No worries. If you need anything, Mr. Todd, just call me.”
Tim hides a laugh behind his glass of water. Richard frowns as she walks over to her seat by the door.
“Did–Did she just flirt with you?”
“What?”
It’s Jason’s turn to look at his brother like he lost his mind.
Or did she?
“I think she did,” Tim agrees, leaving the glass in front of himself.
Damn, did she really?
“Fuck you, she's my assistant,” Richard protests. “And you don’t even like redheads.”
“What the fuck?”
“Ignore him,” Tim sighs. “He’s just jealous. He's been trying to get in her pants for the past couple of months. Clearly without success.”
Richard kicks Tim under the table. Jason deems he must come to these meetings more frequently.
“You’re a dick.”
“Very funny, Jason. It’s been thirteen years, and you’re still using the same lame joke.”
“Sorry, dick,” Tim says. “It will always be funny.”
He also believes he has to buy Tim something to eat.
-
After a few beers and an extra-large burger paid by Jason, Tim tells him her name is Kori Anders. She is three years older than him and lives with her sister a few blocks from the Wayne tower.
Richard refuses to relent her as his assistant, so Jason decides he has to make some excuse to go and see her. It is a good plan. Until he finds himself standing in front of her desk without an actual reason to be there.
As soon as she notices him, she stops typing and smiles at him.
“Hey,” he clears his throat. “I’m--My name is--.”
“Jason Peter Wayne,” she purrs.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jason thinks he peed on his pants. “Yeah, that’s my name.”
“Yes,” she giggles. “What can I do for you?”
He can’t utter a comprehensible sentence, choking on his own words until Richard comes out of his office and interrupts him.
He will never admit he is somewhat relieved.
The next time he sees her, she is taking the elevator. He offers to help her with the several folders she is carrying, but she laughs, stating that he is a Wayne heir. He straightens his back and resists the urge to take out a cigarette.
“Your point being?”
He has heard about it all his life. People making assumptions about him―of being a snob or being trash, and not deserving of the name for either reason.
She smiles shyly, not noticing his anxiety kicking in.
“Well, I guess my point is… that you’re my boss. It would be weird.”
“So that’s not what bosses do,” he laughs dryly.
She looks at him with a blend of surprise and curiosity on her beautiful features. For a second, he forgets what they were talking about.
“No,” she replies, slowly. “Bosses tend to do other things with their employees.”
This time, Jason doesn’t miss the gleam in her eyes.
Oh, she’s definitely flirting with him.
He stays in the elevator when she goes out, trying to catch his breath. Tim is the one who finds him on his third ride to the fifth floor.
-
Granted, she might think he is a creep. After all, they have only spoken to each other four times. The predicament is that Jason does not know patience. So, here he is, resting against his Ducati, waiting in front of her condo to take her to work.
Twenty minutes after he arrives, she comes out. He thinks those are the best invested minutes of his life when she blushes furiously as soon as she spots him across the street.
She walks carefully to where he is already taking the helmet he bought for her. It is purple, just like her favorite color.
“Can I take you to work?”
“I’m wearing a skirt,” she takes the helmet anyway.
He shrugs off his leather jacket and fastens it around her waist, not meeting her eyes as he does it. He is trying so hard not to smell her that he forgets how to breathe.
She rests her cheek over his shoulder on the short ride, and he thinks he is in heaven.
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Title: Remember Who You Are
Story Rating: Chapter 12 – 18+
Warnings: Fluff, mention of smut, mention of masturbation, language
Relationships: Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader; Steve Rogers x Reader; Dark Steve Rogers x Reader
I’ve decided to tell the story from the point of view from both Steve and the Reader. Tell the both sides of the story.
The main villain is being introduced gradually. I’m referring to her as “Mistress” for now. Other characters will also be introduced as the story progresses, one an OFC.
Master List - Links to Other Chapters
***My work is to not be posted on any other site without my permission. If you see it anywhere other than Tumblr please inform me***
(FLASHBACK 1st date)
The afternoon session was a grueling workout.
Hand to hand combat training was intense. Thankfully you had martial arts training in the past so you were used to the tactics and speed. Still it was painful. Getting kicked in the stomach several times and getting your legs swept out from underneath you had you on guard.
Captain America evaluated everyone, making notes on what each agent needed more training with.
The “asshole” Peter tried to punch you in the face. Steve came up behind him and threw him against the wall. “Never leave your back open, you could get killed.” Peter was taken aback.
Part of you was shocked Steve did that but you were happy he did. Peter was arrogant enough to think he was perfect. Steve knocked his arrogance down a peg or two.
“Alright everyone, that’s enough for today. 4 hours is enough.”
Leaving the locker room, you are anxious to go home. Tired and sore, you make your way to your car.
“Excuse me, (Y/N)?”
You jump and spin around to see Steve behind you.
“Holy crap you scared me!”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to.”
“Yes?”
“How did you make out today?”
“Ok, I guess, sore & tired” you smile.
“Too tired for dinner?”
“Ummm, no” – you blush.
“How about 8:00? I’ll pick you up”
“Sure, I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll see you then.” Steve walked away smiling.
You turn and get inside your car, waiting for Steve to walk away out of sight.
“What the hell just happened?” He asked you out! Dinner?
You rush home as fast as you legally drive!
You sighed. “What do I wear?” “Where are we going?” “Why did he ask me out?” Butterflies were in your stomach.
After showering, you put your make-up on and you put your hair done up in a fancy bun. You open your closet door. You must have tried on every outfit you have at least twice.
Finally selecting a not too extravagant black little dress; simple but elegant.
You look at the clock, 7:55, you were nervous and shaking.
One of America’s greatest heroes, who was not bad looking by the way, was on his way to pick you up.
“Why me?”
Falling into a daydream, a knock at the door makes you come to your senses.
Trying not to show your nervousness, you answer the door to find Steve standing in jeans, leather jacket, crisp white shirt, holding a bouquet of purple roses. You realize your overdress.
“Hi Steve.”
“Wow, you look great.”
You blush.
“I’m overdressed huh.”
“Well, we are going to dinner on my bike so yea I think so.” He smiles.
“ok, brb”
You run back to your bedroom grabbing a pink blouse and jeans.
You let your hair down; the helmet wouldn’t fit over your up-do.
You pause, looking into the mirror. You try to calm yourself, counting to 30.
You head back to the door. “Ok, ready.”
“Thank you for the flowers by the way. I love purple roses. They’re my favorite.”
“I know.” Steve blushes. (He blushes too!)
Going out of the front doors of your apartment building, you and Steve ride on his Harley. Arriving at the restaurant which was a casual diner, you and Steve enjoyed light hearted conversation and “Home-cooked Meal” as he put it. (Meat and potatoes kind of place).
He suggests going for a walk on a nearby walking trail. Immediately after getting off the bike 🏍 he quickly takes your hand. You blush. His hand is strong as he holds you with a firm grip. Almost afraid to let go. You both walk for quite a while. Talking about this & that. His life since coming out of the ice. He wants to know about you. You tell him of the heartbreak you suffered as a child. Losing your parents at an early age, thankfully your grandmother took you in. She was a cop 👮♀️. You admired her strength so you decided to be one to, except your a SHIELD agent now. Steve realizes you both are have gone through a hard life. He holds your hand tighter. His eyes show love and compassion. He smiles at you.
“Dessert? Ice cream?”
You nod.
You and Steve go for a drive around town, stopping at an ice cream shack near the bus station, not far from the city center.
“Are you enjoying yourself? You’re awful quiet now.” – (Steve)
“Yes.” you smile. “I guess I’m nervous.”
“About what?”
You didn’t want to tell him the truth that you were nervous about the date so you made something up.
“My first mission.”
“You and the other recruits are almost finished your required training. Hopefully soon you’ll be out in the field soon. The 2 weeks are almost up.”
“How are we doing?”
“Umm… not bad, but I think you’ll do ok.” He smiles.
Steve looks at his watch, “Time to go, I have a mission briefing in the morning.”
You nod, too nervous to say anything else.
The ride back to your apartment went by way too fast. Having your arms around Steve felt like you belonged there. Getting off the bike, you turn to Steve. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Your welcome, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stops, reaches for your chin and lightly kisses you.
You blush as Steve rides off into the night.
“Wonder how tomorrow will go?” you sigh.
You walk into your apartment and plop down on the bed. You can’t believe what happened. He kissed you. You had a hard time to fall asleep wondering what will happen next.
Steve drove away as happy as he could be. He kissed you. It was a start. His heart started to feel alive again. He didn’t expect to fall in love after Peggy. He tried dating but most women weren’t his type or they just wanted to be with “Captain America”. He thought you were special to capture his heart. He didn’t want to scare you so he ended the night.
In fact he lied about the meeting. He knew if you were in presence any longer, he would take you home with him. He wanted you in his arms tonight, crushing you beneath him in his bed moaning his name as he fucked you senseless over and over again. Never wanting to let you go or let you out of his bed. His lust and desire for you matched the hardness in his jeans. He’ll satisfy himself when he gets home. He sighed. He told himself to be patient. That first day you met, he noticed there was something special about you; your smile. It was warm and inviting which matched your soul. He fell in love with you fast, head over heels so to speak. He’d hope you’d fall in love with him. He wanted to take it slow but he was scared someone else would try to date you instead. He did the same thing as you; he had a hard time to fall asleep wondering what will happen next.
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I welcome any feedback; negative or positive and reblogs 😊❤
#nomad!steve#nomad!steve rogers#nomad!steve rogers x you#nomad!steve rogers x reader#nomad!steve rogers x female reader#nomad!steve x you#nomad!steve x#nomad!steve x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#steve x you#steve x y/n#steve x reader#steve x female#steve x female reader#dark!steve#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve x reader#dark!steve x you#dark!steve rogers x female reader#dark!steve rogers x#dark!steve rogers x you#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x female
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31 Days of Apex: Day 16 (Growth)
relationship: (romantic or platonic) octane & crypto
word count: 2.1k
tags: hair dyeing, humor
fic summary: Octavio dyes his hair to hide the fact that he’s going gray in his twenties.
ao3 link
OR
read below
Octavio found his first gray hairs at the age of nineteen.
He’d been putting in his nose ring, having taken it out because he’d had a sore on the inside of his nostril and it was really fucking painful, when he suddenly noticed something. He’d combed his hair back out of his face, so he could clearly see a few silvery strands at his forehead, pale against the black of the rest of his hair.
Being a dramatic teenager, the first thing he’d done was call Ajay so that he could scream.
When he’d finished yelling in her ear, Ajay had responded in a very blasé way with, “Chill, brother. Gray hairs aren’t so rare in teens. You’ll get over it.”
“But what if I DON’T,” Octavio hissed, pacing back and forth in his large bathroom, the bright vanity lights seeming to highlight the gray hairs. He flinched when he caught sight of his reflection, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to hide them by parting his hair differently.
“Well, you like doing everything fast,” Ajay said, and he did not like the humorous tinge to her voice. “You'll get old fast, too.”
Octavio hung up on her.
He had real reason to worry—his father was not an old man, one year away from forty, and yet his hair was currently almost entirely gray, with only faint streaks of black that looked like an even darker shade of gray. Even when he’d been a child, his father’s hair had had a lot of gray in it, so Octavio figured that he was genetically disposed to going gray at an early age—but he had hoped that those genes would skip him, or at least be polite and wait until he was a little older, but that was evidently not the case.
At least his father still had his hairline and a full head of hair. It meant that Octavio wasn’t going to go bald any time soon.
He squinted at his reflection again, moving his hair back to get a clear look at the gray. It was only noticeable because of the vanity lights and the fact that he was so close to the mirror, he told himself. And hey, maybe Che was right, and this was a normal teen thing, not a ‘my dad looks like Santa Claus at age thirty-nine’ thing!
He flinched once again at the thought of looking like his father once he was older. Octavio looked like a fair even mix of both of his parents (even if he’d only ever seen his mother in pictures) but people often told him that he looked just like his father, and this certainly wasn’t going to help matters.
When he left the bathroom with his nose ring back in, he told himself that he wasn’t going to worry about it. Worrying was for losers. He was gonna be fine! And if he wasn’t, well, that was just another thing to hate his father for.
Flash forward five years, and as it turns out, it had not been a fluke.
Octavio had been ignoring the fact that his hair was getting steadily more gray as he got older, his only small comfort that it at least wasn’t at the same rate as his father’s—probably because he didn’t have a big company to run. But it had gotten significantly more gray since he’d blown off his legs, and when he took off his helmet for what felt like the first time in forever, he was chagrined to see several streaks of it in his otherwise pitch-black hair, mostly at his temples, but extremely noticeable. If he turned his head enough, he could see some at his nape too, and scowled.
“Don’t worry about it,” he remembered his second stepmother telling his father, several years ago. His father had silently ran his hand through his hair, giving himself a long look in the mirror, and she’d noticed. “I think it makes you look dignified. Mature.”
His father had always been more concerned with his appearance than his own son, so Octavio had rolled his eyes at that back then, and he rolled his eyes at it now. He didn’t want to look dignified or mature. He wanted to look like how Octane was supposed to look: bright and young, with endless energy to spare. Not like he was getting too old too fast. That was the one thing he didn’t want to do quickly.
The good news was, he had bought cheap box dye the other day, and brought it on the dropship with him, so he could do his hair before the off-season. It was blue, which wasn’t his favorite color, but he’d already gone through green, red, and pink, and he didn’t like repeating colors, so he resigned himself to it.
Octavio opened the bathroom door, helmet and mask tucked under his arm, and came face-to-face with Crypto, who’s hand was outstretched, like he was about to knock. Staring at the other with wide eyes, he could practically feel the other looking at the gray at his temples. They stared at one another in silence, waiting for the other to speak, and Crypto did it first.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled, side-stepping him, and Octavio pushed past him, eager to get away. “...Old man.”
Octavio didn’t have a comeback for that—just felt his face flush an embarrassing shade of red as he put his helmet back on to at least hide his hair from view. He wasn’t bothered by much—he usually let most insults bounce right off of him, and sometimes lobbed them back for fun, but this felt much more personal than usual, and he didn’t have it in him today to think of something clever.
He grabbed the box dye from his room, avoiding Che’s watchful eyes, knowing she’d say something along the lines of You’re going to fry your hair doing that. He’d have to bleach his hair first, and was supposed to bleach and dye it on different days, but he was impatient, so he would do them both today, damage be damned.
("Oh, nice hair," she'd said when he first dyed it green. "Shame it's probably not gonna last."
"Say what you want, hermana, but damaged hair is better than gray hair."
"How about no hair at all?"
Octavio covered his ears with his hands. "Lalala, I can't hear you."
"C'mon, it ain't all bad. You should try growing it out. I hear girls are into old guys these days."
"Shut up.")
When he returned to the bathroom, Crypto was just stepping out, and he felt his face flush again when the other eyed the boxes in his hand. He expected another old man comment to come (which wasn’t fair because Crypto was seven years older than him but his hair was all black ughhhh), but instead, the other man asked,
“Do you need help with that?”
If Octavio didn’t know any better, he would almost think the other man felt bad for what he had said earlier. But he probably didn’t, because he was an asshole.
“Why? So you can make fun of me again?” Octavio responded petulantly, before taking it a step further and sticking his tongue out at him. “No thanks, compadre.”
Crypto shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.”
“Is it a medical condition?”
“Leave me alone,” Octavio said, pushing him out of the doorway, before slamming the bathroom door shut behind him, not wanting to talk about his father’s premature grays and how he was unfortunately suffering the same fate.
He didn’t want to talk to Crypto after that comment he had made, but as he set both boxes down, he was reminded of how much he hated bleaching his hair. His hands were shaky and he often accidentally touched his skin, leaving it burning, so after a moment of consideration he turned around, swinging the door back open. Crypto was still standing there, but staring down at his phone.
“Okay, fine,” Octavio said, changing his tone from petulant to demanding. “Bleach my hair for me.”
Crypto raised his eyebrows at him, but made no move to enter the bathroom. Octavio grit his teeth, before adding, “Por favor.”
Crypto joined him in the bathroom then, which was much smaller and more dimly lit compared to his bathroom back at home. It felt cramped in here, but he'd rather do it away from the prying, teasing eyes of the other Legends. He sat on top of the toilet, removing his helmet once again as he watched Crypto open up both boxes, putting on the pair of clear gloves that had come with them. His leg bounced as he waited, and after a couple of moments of silence, he asked,
“You’ve done this before?”
Crypto glanced at him, as if debating whether he should answer or not, before returning his attention to taking everything out of the boxes. Finally, when everything was laid out before him, he mumbled, “My sister went gray in her early twenties, too. She used to dye her hair red to hide it.”
A million questions exploded into Octavio’s mind, then— you had a sister? just red? she didn’t get bored of red? you dyed her hair too? is she fully gray now? have you ever dyed your hair? —but he couldn’t figure out which one to ask first.
“Don’t ask questions,” Crypto said, as if reading his mind.
“I wasn’t gonna,” Octavio lied. “Why would I care about your stupid sister, anyway?”
Crypto scowled at him then, and fearing that the other would leave him behind, he blurted out, “Sorry. I’m not having a good day. This shit sucks.”
The other man did something he’d never seen him do before—he smiled.
“You sound just like her,” he mumbled to himself, and Octavio didn’t like these constant comparisons to other people—to his father and now to this random girl he didn’t know—but he kept his mouth shut, because this guy was going to bleach his hair for him, and he didn’t want to make him mad and leave.
The sharp smell of bleach filled the air, and his nose scrunched up at it, but he didn’t say anything as Crypto approached, and the next thing he knew, the cold feeling of it was burning his scalp.
"...Have you ever dyed your hair?" Octavio asked after two painful minutes of silence, and he swore he saw the taller man's nostrils flare in annoyance. Which was fair, considering he'd just said he wouldn't ask questions, but sitting here was so boring, and he'd always found Crypto to be rather interesting.
"I've always wanted to go blonde," Crypto finally said after a while, and Octavio perked up at that. "It'd probably look bad, but I always wanted to try."
"I think you'd look hot with blonde hair," Octavio said, because he didn't have a filter, and Crypto shot him a look, but didn't say anything as he continued lightening his hair. He was being truthful, but he was sure the other thought he was making fun of him.
When the silence continued, Octavio grew uncomfortable, before blurting out, "My dad's all gray."
Crypto hummed, and he took it as encouragement to continue.
"He's always had gray hair even when I was a kid, so I guess it's just a genetic thing, which fucking sucks, because I'm supposed to be all badass, you know?"
"Nobody thinks you're badass," Crypto said mildly, and Octavio scowled. "But I am sorry. For...making fun of you."
"...Whatever, man. You're lucky you're hot."
He caught sight of Crypto's face in the mirror, and felt smug when the other's brows furrowed and his cheeks darkened.
The whole process took a couple of hours, and when it was all over, his black was now a vibrant blue. The color was starting to grow on him, but he still preferred green over it, and he said as much when he had his head bent beneath the showerhead, staining the bottom of the tub blue.
"Thanks," Octavio said as he ran his fingers through his sopping wet hair, before turning the shower off. He'd gotten over the old man comment, and his voice sounded a lot brighter as he added, "For your help."
Crypto didn't respond for a while, and he almost thought the other man had left the room, before he heard him mumble out, "You should try pink."
"Huh?"
When Octavio turned around to look at him, the man looked like a deer caught in headlights, as though he hadn't meant to be heard.
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing," Crypto said, but the words caught up to Octavio then, and he smiled.
"I've done pink before, amigo. It's one of my favorite colors."
Crypto glanced away from him, seeming to debate something, before he smiled at Octavio. Just a slight upturn of his lips that quickly disappeared as he said, "You'll have to show me pictures one day."
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Prospect
Request from Anon: Nestor doesn’t know you’re part of the mc he feels betrayed that you didn’t tell him, “I trusted you y/n, I don’t just let people in” (you used to be best friends with Em n the Reyes brother, you took with ez side over em) and you see her in public one day and you have you’re kutte on and she calls you over to chat and you say to her “this isn’t the life you wanted em” (first part to request cause it’s so long)
Nestor Oceteva x Reader
Warnings: language, angst
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Emily and Y/N were once best friends. Y/N was in love with Nestor. Y/N supported Ezekiel after Emily’s abortion and disappeared from her current life close to the cartel to now be the first female prospect for the Mayans MC.
-There is a part two request that I am finishing up and will post early this week! This story was legit one of my favorites to write, thanks anon!
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Stillness encumbered her fragile bones, her heart throbbed to a chaotic march forcingly reminding her mind of the goodness of the man now standing in her path of beautiful obliteration. Nestor stared blankly into her icy blue eyes; just like a vicious predator hunting his unfortunate prey. Her chin quivered slightly as Y/N bite her bottom lip restraining herself, any attempt at maintaining a shard of control still placed within her reach.
Tilting his head to the left, a questioning glare reflected off his features before he dared to interrupt the impending muteness trapping the young couple.
“I trusted you Y/N. I don’t--I don’t just let people in.”
“Ness let me explain, please.
He sighed loudly unable to further detach the emotions he allowed to overwhelm his senses again, especially when it all came down to the girl before him. He adored his nickname when it fell off her lips, and only hers.
“Explain what? That you conveniently forgot to mention you just so happen to hang out with the fucking Mayans? I haven’t seen you in years, and then this Mayans shitstorm bounces the cartel’s way, but by accident we meet on opposing sides? Worst of all, you eagerly manipulated me into giving us another lousy chance, but I don’t fucking know this girl.”
“I think you’re getting confused. We agreed on fuck buddies, with your rules might I add. I am sorry that you persuaded yourself that things would be just like old times. Don’t get it twisted Ness. We aren’t dumb kids anymore.”
His eyes scanned her from head to toe trying to memorize every inch she willingly showed him. It was at that exact moment that Nestor realized he was fighting for the old Y/N and not the bold woman in front of him. Unexpectedly, Y/N shoved him with all her brute strength as she reveled in his minor fall.
“Woah, wait. Fucking rewind -- I don’t just hang out with them you dick, I AM one of them, well a prospect currently.”
Flabbergasted, Nestor was left speechless as he wordlessly watched her lips open and close, but he heard nothing other than a piercing ring reverberating through his ear canals.
“You’re one of them…?”
She could only nod in agreement.
“So, when did they start letting bitches in the boardroom?”
Y/N’s chest suddenly weighed down upon her with heavy force. She knew she had to come clean. Better late than never, right? But, in her defense, they had agreed to keep their lives completely separate, careful to never intermix this time around.
“I’d watch my tone if I were you, Nestor. I was the first female member to prospect, brought to the table, and voted. Fair and square. Don’t you dare demean me and my choices. It certainly wasn’t easy to prove my power, but I fucking did. What the hell have you done, take orders like the lap dog Miguel groomed you to be?”
Her murderous smirk shone brightly upon her lips, a dark chuckle slipping through the cracks before returning her attention back to the belittling asshole she mistakenly loved..loves. This was supposed to be their second shot at happiness, but as always, it ended in calamitous flames dooming them to disastrous heartache. The usual tale of ill-fated star-crossed lovers.
“Does Em know about this?”
“You know I haven’t spoken with Emily since her and Ez’s fight behind bars. She only knows what you tell her, Nestor. Playing the fool doesn’t suit you.”
This caught him off guard causing goosebumps to prickle every surface of his skin. This wasn’t the guarded serene girl he had met so long ago but replaced with a resiliently fierce woman. Nestor wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was enthralled with Y/N, in awe of her ability to adapt to any curveball thrown her direction.
“You should call her. She misses you, believe it or not.”
The conversation strayed towards a lighter note as the room began to clear away any remaining ammunition between the conflicted lovers, both waving their white flags of peace; if only for an instance.
“I can’t, things aren’t not that simple nowadays… She asked me to choose and I did. It just wasn’t the answer she prepared herself for. And for that, I am truly apologetic, but I refuse to turn my back on the boy I’ve known since 3rd grade. It is what it is; an ended friendship.”
Some relationships mimicked broken glass, its unending fragileness, but at times it was better to leave them in shattered pieces than try and hurt yourself putting them back together again. Sadly, the risk isn’t worthy of its cause.
“I’ll pass along the kind words. Now enlighten me, did you ever seriously love me or was it all part of your warped game?”
Y/N’s checks blushed royally, anger taking hold of her persistent consciousness.
“Which time are you referring to? When we were 20 or now?” Only spiteful thoughts flooded her mind proving to be easier than sheer honesty. She thrived off knowing she could still upset Nestor down to his spiny core.
If she had done anything right in this complicated mess of a life, it was loving Nestor Oceteva, but all good things must come to an end, right?
“Well, there’s your answer. Your doubt is enough to prove just how much you didn’t trust me, and you’ve had these reservations for some time. I can only imagine how easy it was for you to paint me as the bad guy these last few years. Its your turn to be honest. Does it unnerve you to look at the man reflected back at you every day? Because if we’re sticking to being truthful, I admit I did see the advantage of seducing you, but I chose to let you in. Well, the first time around. And that obviously ended swimmingly.”
Stepping dangerously close to Y/N, their breaths intently intermingling; “You’re not the only person in a position of authority, Y/N. Miguel Galindo, our dear Emily’s husband wouldn’t even blink if you were to disappear. I’m very good at my job.”
Y/N refused to show fear especially to a man she fell for so purely, but that wasn’t her current reality, and he made sure of that.
“I loved you and I lost you. Cold case closed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Hasta luego, viejo amigo.”
*10 days later*
Emily heard the deafening noise of several motorcycle engines rapidly approaching before she braved a glance over her shoulder. She had just finished at the grocery store, marking one trivial chore off her never-ending to-do list all while trying to figure out how to work Cristobal’s newly installed car seat.
Fucking Mayans, it had to be.
She didn’t have time for this shit, not with the looming tension suffocating her husband. Besides, she left the Reyes brothers a long time ago, and didn’t want to risk a chance encounter even if they did live in the same godforsaken town. Ezekiel Reyes was her first love, but Miguel was a man of continuous passion.
Occasionally, she would find herself pondering what would have happened if she had kept the baby or chose the man she promised to love, but life had a different idea for the both of them.
The usual crew pulled their bikes into the adjacent parking lot heading towards the clothing factory. Gilly, Coco, Angel, and Ez came into view as they distractedly chatted, patiently awaiting as the last bike strolled closer.
Emily didn’t need the stranger to turn around before knowing exactly who was underneath that particular helmet on this particularly humid day.
Her laugh instantly gave her away, a laugh she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. Y/N, someone she considered a sister before she enthusiastically leapt to the metaphorical dark side. Y/N made her decision; to betray Nestor and abandon Emily. She was fortunate Miguel was there to pick up the damaged edges’ Y/N left in her destruction.
After the longest pause in recent history, Emily decided against her better judgement to brave a simple hello to an old friend… acquaintance?
She yelled loud; “Y/N, HI., waving her hand discreetly wondering how the next few moments would transpire. Her nerves slowly trickled into her belly as her chest spasmed disobediently.
Y/N’s elbow was perched atop Ezekiel’s shoulder as he sat on the cool leather seat of his latest ride, her ears perking in response to the shrill noise coming from across the street. She squinted, the sun blockading her vision temporarily before meeting Emily Galindo’s incessant stare.
She locked eyes with Ez giving her the nod of approval before gracefully smiling back, squeezing his shoulder and taking the few steps away from her friends. As both females approached the other, neither were certain who would speak up first.
Y/N popped the bubble of surrounding awkwardness; “Emily, long time no see, stranger.”
Emily hated nicety but went with the flow keeping her existing irritation at bay.
“Y/N, I didn’t realize non-members could wear their boyfriend’s kutte?”
There was certainly a distinct, underlying competition to their complex friendship, and Emily was the kind of fighter that went straight for the jugular vein when her defense mechanism reacted.
Quietly chuckling; “Nope, but you’re allowed to wear it when you’re the newest prospect. Well, of course alongside Ezekiel. You remember him, hmm?”
“How could I forget. I was pregnant with his child at one point.”
“Look, drop the petty act and just tell me why you called me over here?”
Emily was silently stunned, unsure of what drew her to reach out, but she couldn’t let Y/N know that.
“I heard you caught up with Nestor or should I say broke up with him...again.”
“Not all of us can be the murderous power couple you and Miguel seem to be. I know how you get when faced with a rivalry.”
“You knew a façade, a previous version of me. You haven’t had the pleasure of seeing Emily Galindo at work, but you will, soon.”
Y/N gaze met the cold gray concrete they were both standing on, shaking her head; “This isn’t the life you wanted, Em, yet here we are.”
For a brief pause in time, Emily’s eyes teared up before wishing her tears away. This wasn’t the time or place to show weakness especially to the enemy.
“I wished for an exhilarating and purposeful life. I just happened to get a lot more than I bargained for. You don’t know Miguel like I do so don’t you fucking judge him.”
“Easy Emily. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I could care less now.”
“For the record Em, I never wanted to pick sides. Sometimes I can’t even close my eyes without seeing the hurt expressions etched onto your face from that fateful night…and how heartbroken Nestor was. But you gave me an unimaginable ultimatum and I tried my damnedest to figure out the right path.”
“I know that now. I don’t know what it is about you that brings out the bitch in me today.”
“You’ve got that whole mama bear protective look now. It’s refreshing.”
“You should really think about calling Nestor. He isn’t doing too hot at the moment.”
“Part of me wants to but now I have the MC to take care of as well. I love him, I do. I just don’t think its our time right now.”
“At this rate, will it ever be yall’s time? I mean the boy has been drooling over you since you basically met, and you run away at the sign of anything remotely serious with him. Why?”
“He makes me feel too vulnerable. Conveniently, Nestor is also in love with a girl who no longer resides in this body or mind.”
“Just like he isn’t the same man you left standing there on the balcony all those years ago. It’s a double-edged sword, Y/N. You need to reconnect, get on the same page, and see if this is actually endgame worthy. Because if you ask me, I always knew he was going to be your person, even when you kept adamantly denying it.”
Distantly, Y/N heard Angel yelling for her signaling to hurry the hell up. She smirked back choosing to further test his lack of patience.
“Same things never change though. That’s my que, it was good to actually talk Em.”
“Agreed. Maybe next time we don’t wait so long, huh?”
“I’ll see you when I see you Emily Galindo.”
“Goodbye old friend.”
Emily turned to double check Cristobal’s seatbelt before opening the driver’s side of her car and launching herself onto its expensive leather. Briskly, the engine started, and she merely drove off. Y/N was left standing alone in a parking spot debating if the conversation that just occurred had been an uncontrollable dream she created out of thin air.
Y/N glanced at her watch questioning how she had let 15 minutes slip by before she heard the familiar voice of man clearing his throat. Someone new stood in front of her, his infamous braids in tow and tinted sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“So, I see you finally caught up with Em. Good for you.”
“Have you been hiding nearby this entire time or did you discover psychic abilities to eavesdrop while I was away?”
Y/N hand hugged her hip bone as she swayed her weight between her two feet, unable to stand still any longer.
“So, I guess we have some talking of our own to do. Whaddya say?”
-----
Hasta luego, viejo amigo: Goodbye old friend
#Mayans MC#mayans#mayans mc x reader#nestor x reader#nestor oceteva x reader#My writing#mayans mc fx#mayans mc imagine
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Wraith in the Ruins: Meanwhile, Back in Goodneighbor IV
Mac and John
Takes place just before Wraith wakes up.
Trigger warnings: canon violence/ language/drug, alcohol and gun use
GAME SPOILERS!
Please enjoy!
“Grrrroooonnnnppp pop pop pop!” MacCready’s stomach was on empty and he was positive it had begun digesting itself. His overhead was too high and he’d been skimping on food. In an effort to live off the land, he had set some snares near a mole rat colony, but had returned to find someone had helped themselves to his catch as well as his equipment.
Daisy was in the back looking for his special order and so her shop essentially unguarded… and those Fancy Lads snack cakes looked awfully tempting…
MacCready would normally have no compunctions about swiping something he might need, or want, but Daisy trusted him and he genuinely liked her…
“NNNNNnneeeerrrroooooo poooooop!” His stomach made his decision for him and he deftly swiped the pink package off the shelf and stuck it in his coat.
As he was removing his hand a vise-like grip closed around his wrist. Twisting his arm back behind his back, someone strait-armed him into the wall. He felt the smooth coolness of a very large knife laid against his cheek even as the smell of mint was harbinger to a voice like honey poured over gravel, “Well now, what exactly were you thinking there boyo? I’m pretty sure those cakes weren’t yours for the taken’. And I don’t take too kindly to folks stealing from my people, you feel me? Might be you need to lose a digit or two, learn you a hard lesson.”
MacCready tried to push himself off the wall, but the ghoul was like iron. Frantically trying to come up with excuses he was relieved to hear Daisy’s voice, “No! Wait Hancock!” She was waving her arms over her head as if the mayor was across town, “Don’t go slicing him up just yet; this is that sniper kid I was telling y’all about.”
Hancock gave one extra little push to emphasize his ire then released him, “They say ‘first impressions are important’. I’ve gotta say, I’m not impressed.”
Daisy wasn’t exactly sure why Hancock was angry until MacCready rather sullenly slapped the cake box on her counter. She took one look at his gaunt frame and decided to give him a break, “Oh honestly John, the cakes were part of his order! You shouldn’t jump to conclusions Mr. Mayor.”
Hancock’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. MacCready was rubbing his wrist and arm with a mutinous expression and he flinched when Hancock suddenly spread his arms out wide, “Welcome to Goodneighbor. Now I guess I need to consider my own first impression. Heh!”
“Oh you made one alright.” MacCready was practically chewing his tongue in half to avoid saying anything to make the volatile mayor gut him. He had never met Hancock, but he had heard things… things that made sure everyone knew that this was not a ghoul to fuck with.
“Finish up your business then come up to my office.” Tipping his hat to Daisy he sauntered away.
MacCready watched Hancock’s smooth swagger for a second before turning to face the ghoulette. Looking at her from the top of his eyes, he did his best to look winsome and forlorn, “I’m sorry Daisy.”
“You’re sorry cause you’re caught you mean!” She had her arms folded and was clearly pissed, “I recommended you to Hancock based on Carol and Greta’s word. ‘He’s a good kid, even if he’s rough around the edges’ they said. Ha!” Unfolding her arms, she stabbed MacCready in the chest with a finger, “That ghoul there,” She pointed the other hand after Hancock, “has a heart of gold. But don’t y’all think for two seconds he won’t end you if he thinks you’re hurting anyone of us.” She tapped him on the chest, “And don’t y’all think you could take him in a fight when I don’t think even KL-E-O can take him!”
“I’ll take him to paradise, baby!”
MacCready laughed, “I’m sure you would KL-E-O.”
Hancock was seated on his favorite couch, arms across the back to either side, looking all the world like a king on his throne. MacCready knew that the striking redhead standing just behind him was Fahrenheit and that she was reputed to be almost as dangerous as the mayor. All in all, MacCready’s self-preservation alarms were going off like gangbusters in his head.
Stay cool. Just, don’t say anything dumb. Be cool.
“Stray cat indeed...” Fahrenheit gave him an obviously unimpressed toe-to-crown look, as she stepped from behind the couch and moved to the door.
“And you are even more beautiful than they say!” MacCready tried his best blue-eyed smolder out on her as she passed.
“And you have frosting in your goatee.”
“You wanna to lick it off?”
She gave him the finger as she passed through the doorway.
“That’s not a ‘no’.” As MacCready turned back to Hancock he found the ghoul to be almost on top of him, his face less than an inch from his own. Back-peddling awkwardly he couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped him.
Oh! Not cool! You idiot! NOT COOL!
Hancock stood motionless for several seconds before taking an impressively long drag from his cigarette and then blowing a few equally impressively large smoke rings, growling softly all the while. Then to his surprise he saw MacCready’s face light-up at the display. The young man watched the smoke rings as they made their way to the celling with a large smile on his face. Something more or less clicked in Hancock’s brain and he took another, more calculating look, at the merc: he was young, he was way too skinny, even for his slight frame and he had a slight tremor in his hands. He needed help, just like Daisy said he did. Stray cat indeed…
“Follow me.” Hancock turned and walked through the back of his office to the roof access. Once outside he moved to the edge and pulling a gold colored telescope from one of his many pockets, he set it to his eye.
MacCready couldn’t contain his giggle, “Hehe! Are you kidding? You know you look like a pirate, right?”
The set of balls on this kid!
Spreading his arms out wide, Hancock paced elegantly toward him. Executing a full turn that would make any model on the catwalk green with envy, he stopped inches from the merc, “Sexy pirate was always going to be my fallback if ‘sexy mayor’ didn’t pan out.” MacCready gulped as Hancock once again invaded his personal space. Locking eyes the mayor’s voice dropped to a purring growl, “I brought you up here to see how good you are,” Hancock pointed across the rooftops of Goodneighbor to the ruins beyond, “now, take a gander through that scope of yours and tell me what you see.”
Hancock made note that as soon as MacCready raised his rifle and his focus shifted to “work”, the tremor in his hands vanished.
Interesting.
“Super mutants. A few of em. They’re… just kinda… milling around.”
“Yeah, they do that. So here’s the game: I call the shots, you make the shots and I am impressed. You want me impressed, you feel me?” He had his telescope to his eye and was already picking his targets, “I used to come up here all the time, back when my eyes were better. Heh; damn brutes never could figure out where all the death was coming from.”
“And yet they still hang out on the same roof…”
“Greenskins ain’t exactly known for their quick wit.”
“Oh, I’ve known of one or two who could keep a conversation going… but yeah, like maybe two.”
Then with no preamble Hancock called his first shot, “Twelve o’clock helmet.”
Not missing a beat, MacCready took aim and shot with impressive speed, hitting the target with apparent ease.
“Mr. Laughing and Pointing; get his finger.” MacCready made the shot, cleanly severing just the mutant’s digit. “Now end his confusion.”
Shot after shot, MacCready’s aim was true. It didn’t matter how quickly Hancock called them out or how unique his descriptions of the super mutants were.
“Ammo out! Reloading!”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” Hancock stood, tapping his telescope against his shoulder, staring hard at the younger man. His eyes contained a look of such open covetousness that it bordered on lust. “Color me impressed. Pick up your brass and meet me back inside.”
The first thing MacCready noticed when he walked back into the office was the two items Hancock had left on the coffee table for him: a tumbler of whiskey and an addictol inhaler. Hancock had his back to him and was preparing himself a drink.
Is this another test? The hell? Were my hands shaking that bad?! Fuck it!
MacCready picked up the whiskey and proceeded to gulp the entire glass in one breath. Setting the tumbler back down gently, he appeared nonchalant as he then picked up the inhaler and breathed in the addictol.
Hancock’s laugh rang out through the State House, making several members of the Watch jump, “HA! You are fulla piss ain’t cha? You know that whiskey is actually pretty good. I’ll pour you another if you’d actually like to taste it this time.” Laughing again at MacCready’s confused look, Hancock explained, “Who am I to judge the vices of another man? I offered two different solutions to your problem with not a string attached to either. That wasn’t a test Little Brother, but I’ll give you an ‘A’ all the same. Shit! You get a goddamn gold star for that one!”
“Okay… then yes I would like another… please.”
As MacCready sipped his second glass Hancock presented him with a contract. “This is my standard mercenary contract, with a few addendums. What this simply states is that my jobs get priority and while you may accept any bodyguard, caravan guard, pest removal and escort services that you are offered, assassinations must be ran past Fahrenheit or me first. No sense picking fruit before it’s ripe, you feel me?”
“I actually don’t plan on taking… head hunting jobs anymore.” MacCready’s eyes held a hard look and his jaw was set. “Shooting armed super mutants is one thing…”
“That so? Hmmm, too bad cause I have a very lucrative job of just that nature, couple of bad apples past due for pickn’.”
MacCready’s resolve softened at the mention of a higher pay-out, “Who are they? What did they do?”
“Leftovers from Vic; guy used to run Goodneighbor. He was a thunderous asshole and these three were some of his worst thugs. All the nasty shit you could think of, that was their MO. I have files on all three but I can’t act directly against ‘em. They know all my people and that Railroad ass-hat sez he’s not for ‘cleaning up my garbage’. HA! How’s that for gratitude?”
MacCready wasn’t sure who the “ass-hat” in question was but the rest was pretty clear, “Because they won’t know me I can personally verify their location and then take them out.” At war with himself, MacCready really wanted, no, needed the money but felt he had to stay true to his convictions. Standing up, he prepared to leave before he weakened further, “I’m sorry but I’ve made some promises and I can’t accept…”
“The contract wasn’t contingent on you accepting the assassination job,” Hancock waved him back onto the couch, “if you can’t accept this one job it doesn’t blow the whole thing. Let’s go over the rest of the contract and job list, and see what you can do for me.”
MacCready was genuinely confused, “You would change it for me?”
“I think you’re worth it, yes. Now, let’s have Charlie send us up some grub and break this down!”
Over the next several weeks MacCready began to see a dent in his money problems. Although Goodneighbor could be rough, he found that the more jobs he did for Hancock, the less he was hassled by anyone. MacCready was often employed and he found that he truly liked the mayor and enjoyed being a “favorite”. And yet he still felt the pressure of his son’s illness; he need more money and faster. Tightening his belt would only get him so far…
“Well, look who it is! What’s in the sack?”
“It’s Christmas come early,” Setting the duffle bag on Hancock’s desk, MacCready backed away, “and since you’ve been a good little mayor, I got you your favorite.”
There were three heads in the duffle bag.
Clasping his hands and placing them along the side of his face, Hancock adopted a falsetto, “Oh Robert! You really shouldn’t have!”
Hancock’s broad smile and use of his first name caused a slight flutter in his stomach and he felt an uncharacteristic blush overtake him. Clearly flustered, he coughed into his hand before he suddenly remembered why he had done the job, “It was nothing really. You had mentioned a… I think you said, ‘a very lucrative’ pay-out.”
“So I did. I also think we should revise your contract: increase your general payout, increase your drink budget at the Rail… Oh yeah, speaking of which; there is a room available just off of the VIP lounge. It’s on the small side but I figure you could set-up shop there and save yourself some caps on rent.”
MacCready could hardly believe it, “Why? Why do this for me? For the assho… idiot who you caught red-handed, stealing, the first time you met him…”
“Ah, so the truth finally comes out!” Hancock’s eyes danced merrily.
“No, I’m serious! What… else…”
“Nothing you’re not comfortable with.” Hancock was suddenly serious, “Don’t ever feel like you ‘have to’ do anything for me Little Brother…” He placed his hands on MacCready’s shoulders, “save for one thing: promise me you’ll never steal from me or my people ever again!”
“I promise.”
Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins master-link in my bio. =^..^=
#wraith in the ruins#fallout#fallout 4#fallout 4 fanfic#hancock#fallout hancock#john hancock#john hancock fanfic#maccready#rj maccready#maccready fanfic#fahrenheit#fallout daisy#goodneighbor
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imagine tony removing bucky's metal arm because it's hurting him and bucky being really insecure about his shoulder and being armless so tony does his best to show bucky how sexy and handsome and beautiful he thinks bucky is, with or without the arm
Between Pains (1 of 3)
Also on AO3
"Bucky! Sunshine! Love of my life, how is my favorite super-soldier doing?" Tony strolled into the room, flopped onto the couch and latched onto Bucky's arm, the tiny wince his boyfriend made didn't escape him. "Something wrong?" He rubbed his face against Bucky's shoulder feeling the cool and smooth metal on his cheek.
"Nah, babe just got startled. How is my favorite genius?" Bucky leaned down and pecked Tony's lips, then went back to the science magazine he was reading.
"My head is feeling like it's about to explode, finished the new repulsors though, and I added the handles to the suit I've been talking about, so you can hang on more easily when you fly with me." Tony snuggled closer and tried to wrap his entire body around the cold metal appendage and Bucky tensed slightly. He did stretch the arm out though so Tony could cling on to it better. It really was no secret that Tony loved the arm and maybe he displayed that love a little too often, to Bucky's annoyance.
Tony sneaked a hand up to Bucky's neck and started tangling the small hairs there around his finger. "Why are you reading about possible black holes produced in the Large Hadron Collider?"
Bucky chuckled. "Because not everybody is a fucking genius who magically knows about every possible subject on earth."
"Excuse me, it's called research, not magic. I'm offended." Tony huffed and crawled over his boyfriend like a clingy spider, causing Bucky to put down the magazine. A paper magazine of all things, like he didn't have a perfectly fine tablet with subscriptions to every science magazine on earth. Where did he even get that from? He cupped Bucky's face with both of his hands and smooshed his cheeks, looking him deep into the eyes. "You take that back! My genius got nothing to do with magic, those three PhDs didn't write themselves."
Bucky didn't take back anything and just stuck out his tongue between his squished cheeks looking absolutely adorable. Tony couldn't hold the stare for long while looking at that face, he burst into laughter, then proceeded to ravish his boyfriend until they were just a bundle of limbs and covers.
----
Robots were on the loose again, as they were about once a week. This time they were coming from the sewers and Bucky and Clint had little to no sniping to do so they joined the ground crew this time. Tony was in the air, tracking the robots under the surface and predicting their next exit point. They had split into teams to cover more ground and Tony gave the closest team - Bucky and Steve - a warning when he saw another five robots approaching their location.
The fight was going well, the robot herds were thinning and collateral damage was being kept to a minimum for once. Tony was flying another round, checking on the teams and it was pure luck that he witnessed how Bucky was hit by one of the robots. He blocked the punch with his metal arm, standing his ground for a moment but then was thrown back against a parked car. He crumbled to the ground as Steve swooped in and decapitated the robot with his shield.
Bucky wasn't unconscious, that much Tony could see, but he wasn't getting up as fast as Tony would have liked either, he was holding his left shoulder. After a moment Steve was at his side and pulled him up and he seemed alright again after dusting himself off. Tony decided to open a private com channel.
"You alright, sunshine?"
Bucky looked up and they made eye contact, as good as one could make eye contact when one was wearing a metal helmet and the other opaque goggles and a mask. "Yeah, fucker was tougher than I thought, don't worry."
Tony did worry though and when everybody was rounded up after the fight and back in the Quinjet he approached Bucky, who was absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, having taking off his armored jacket. He looked up when he noticed Tony and smiled.
"Hey, babe."
"Everything alright? Is the arm okay?" Tony had left the suit in the back of the jet and let himself drop into Bucky's lap when the other opened his arms for him, he didn't miss how Bucky's smile faltered a little when he mentioned the arm. Something was definitely not right.
"Arm's working perfectly, just a couple of bruises on the fleshy bits." Bucky's chuckle sounded a bit forced to Tony, but it might have been Tony's imagination. To appease his paranoia he would have to run a few tests the next couple of days, just to make sure the arm was fine. It was still mostly HYDRA tech with a few of Tony's upgrades. Tony knew the arm inside and out, knew there was nothing that could harm Bucky in any way, no hidden switches or poison or anything, but technology could fail no matter how advanced it was and some of the pieces in Bucky's arm were certainly several decades old by this point.
-----
"Okay, stop."
Bucky flinched and quickly pulled his sweater over his left shoulder. "Stop what?" He was sitting cross-legged on the bed and had been poking at his shoulder where the metal arm attached until Tony had come in.
"Stop pretending everything is okay." Tony swept into the room and built himself up in front of Bucky
"What?" Bucky looked, for what it's worth, like a puppy that got caught with his nose in the treat bag.
"The arm's hurting you," Tony said matter-of-factly and Bucky looked away.
"No, it's fine."
"I said stop! I can clearly see it, the way you flinch when you do an unexpected movement, you barely use it when you think nobody is looking and you keep holding your shoulder. You're hurting."
Bucky squared his jaw, looking defiant. "The arm is fine, you ran tests last week."
"I know the arm is fine." Tony sat down next to Bucky's right, placing an arm around his boyfriend. "But you are not. I've seen what this thing is doing to you, I see the bruises aren't fading. Your improved healing can't keep up with the damage the arm is causing to your system. At this point, the damage might be permanent. I think it's time we replace it."
"No." Bucky stood up so fast Tony almost lost his balance and toppled off the bed. "I couldn't do any more missions! I'd be useless, no, I don't... I can't, Tony, I can't!" Bucky turned away, breathing heavily, he had wrapped his good arm around himself, holding the metal arm awkwardly. The first admission to the pain he was in.
Tony stood up and approached his boyfriend slowly. "It would only be for a few weeks until I can finish the replacement."
Bucky sucked in a shaky breath. "Can't you finish the replacement first?"
"Not like this. Maybe if you told me when this first started, but now... This is hurting you too much, Bucky." Tony carefully placed a calming hand on Bucky's shoulder who still didn't look at him. "Besides, I need the arm in the lab with me to get the fitting perfect anyway, certain parts I can't replace. The entire artificial nervous system that translates your nerve signals into movement would take months to develop. Even if I had an entire new arm ready to go now, and trust me, I'd rather I did, I could kick my ass for not noticing sooner, you'd be without it for a couple of days minimum." Tony felt soft tremors running through Bucky's body under his palm and he moved closer, enveloping him in a hug.
As soon as his arms surrounded Bucky, the other man broke. He buried his face against Tony's shoulder, shaking his head vigorously. Tony stayed were he was, holding his boyfriend and riding out the waves of the break down that followed. He could not let this go any further, he could not stand seeing Bucky in pain, Bucky needed to heal.
In the end, Bucky agreed and they scheduled the surgery for the next week.
#winteriron#tony x bucky#tony stark#bucky barnes#bucky barnes' metal arm#prompts#james prince#Anonymous
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The Darkest of Times Pt. 4 -- Jason Todd x fem. reader
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
Warnings: cursing, violence, implied smut but I don’t write smut sooo yeah
Story tags: @janybaby @luna-san3 @idontlikepamts @tiniowl @nicunt
Permanent tags: @korindrs @alohabucky @sarcasmismyfirstlove @mad-hatter-has-nothing-on-me @russian-potatoes
A/N: As promised :)
You blink back stars as you open the hatch exposing much missed sunlight. The warmth is immediately soaked up and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face in response. Your energy is quickly revitalized and you shake out stiff muscles as you walk over the grass. Throwing your hood over your head, you make your way into the city with only a knife strapped to your thigh and, after much deliberation, Jay’s phone hidden in your boot.
You figured the best time to walk into The Iceberg Lounge would be during the day. Highly doubtful it is even close to being safe but safer at least. You stick close to buildings being careful not to draw too close to voices. At one point you are certain you hear gunfire and so you quicken your pace. When the club comes into view, you let out a breath of relief. The sign is flickering barely visible in the sunlight and you can hear the bass of the music bursting through the building.
Your eyes spot a woman dressed in a skintight suit throwing out some ice. The Iceberg Lounge logo shines brightly at her breast making you reason she is a worker. An idea pops into your head. A very risky idea but better than strolling in and demanding answers.
“Excuse me, Miss,” you say stepping out from behind the car you were hiding behind. The woman jumps back in surprise and drops her bucket. She purses her red lips and puts a hand to her chest.
“What do you want?” she hisses. You gulp and gently remove your hood.
"I will give you $200 to borrow your outfit for an hour,” your propose pulling out a wad of cash. Her eyes brighten and she gives a sly grin.
“Deal.”
You start doing squats trying to stretch the fabric even in the slightest bit but it quickly reforms back as your second skin.
“You look hot, don’t worry,” the woman says putting on her clothes she wears to and from the bar. You fight the urge to lick your rouged lips that she had insisted on.
“Thanks,” you murmur and squirm one more time in the suit. You push on the door and with a deep breath you take a step into the lounge. She had snuck you in the back so this is your first encounter with the chaos.
Smoke dusts the upper-half of the room casting a hazy fog over the customers. A stage is lit up with some sultry singer bellowing the blues. A scattered few are lounging at the tables set in front of the stage while others are leaning drunkenly over the bar. You gulp as public menaces you have only seen on TV are right here in front of you and not being punched in the face by Batman. You panic thinking you might have stood there ogling too long to pass as a worker so you grab a tray nearby and muster every bit of courage you own before sauntering into the mass.
“Hey baby I will take another beer and your ass on my lap,” some complete gentleman coos from behind. You turn around a retort ready at hand when a lady steps in.
“You know the rules, highest payer gets who they want at the end of the night,” a waitress scolds rolling her eyes and slams a beer in front of him.
“I am a patient man,” he quips with a sanguine grin that makes your blood boil.
“And I am not an impressed woman,” you growl and strut away. Mental note; get the hell out of there before that goes into effect.
Excusing a few ass grabs and lewd comments, you manage to create some kind of understanding on how this place works without trouble. Let the sleuthing begin. Your first focus falls on a pair of guys discussing the ransack of stores you and Anthony frequented. You put down beers at a nearby table listening intently.
“Yeah, we searched it for what the boss was asking for but it had been pretty much cleared out. Then-”
The doors suddenly bust open and you jump spilling the beer.
You turn your head and your mouth drops open at the sight of your current least favorite gunman. He is clenching his fists looking ready to pummel the nearest poor soul when his gaze falls on you. Now this, this makes him falter and the helmet definitely masks his eyes popping out of his head.
“Knight, what the hell are you doing here? Got tired of getting pummeled by B-” a not-so-wise man sputters as his face is smashed into the bar. Jay takes a seat at the bar as everything pretty much returns to the exact same state it was before he made his grand entrance.
“Clean this mess up, bitch,” the man you were serving commands. You turn a menacing smile towards him.
“I’m sorry, sir, there’s nothing I can do about that,” you gesture towards his face, “Oh, wait you meant the beer? Of course. Would you like me to wring the contents back into the cup?” You bat your eyelashes for extra measure as his face turns red and the woman sitting with him doubles over in laughter.
You walk over towards the bar to grab a towel and lock eyes with Jay who is squeezing a glass of beer tightly in his hand. His helmet might conceal his face but the radiating fury is hard to miss especially when directed at you. You wink at him and the glass breaks in his hand.
The suit is most definitely getting to your head but you can’t help but mess with him after the stunt he pulled.
You are scrubbing the beer from the floor when you glance up and notice a group of men that weren’t there before that looked oddly familiar. Two of them were in the group that were with Anthony in the footage. You begin to stand up to approach them when two very loud boots stomp their way past you. You glare at Jay as he pulls up a chair at their table.
“Hey fellas, mind if I join?” he proposes and they all look at him quizzically.
“Um, sure-”
“Let’s skip past the foreplay this one time. Have you guys happened to find that thing you were looking for?”
What the hell is he talking about?
“We are working on it, Knight,” one growls not looking happy with his question. This is definitely the wrong approach at getting information from these men.
“What can I get you boys today?” you chime in flashing a dazzling smile. Jay tenses.
“For you to leave us alone,” he answers lowly. You make a pouty face at him.
“Aww, Knight. Didn’t your momma teach you how to talk to a lady? We would love some beers, sweetheart,” a balding man that looks permanently stuck between being either in his forties or fifties urges.
You plaster on a fake smile and hurry over to the bar to fix their drinks. You are back in lightning speed and interrupt Jay mid-sentence.
“Here you go,” you sing handing the beers over making sure to brush against one of the guys who you recognize from the video.
“Could I get you anything else?” you ask innocently. The man you brushed against looks at you wryly and you force your mouth not to throw up but somehow look interested.
“I can think of a few things,” he laughs and you wink before turning away secretly yearning to take five showers. You turn into a dimly lit hallway towards the door that exits into the alley. You wrap your hands around the knife waiting for your plan to take place. The door slams open and as you raise your hand someone knocks the weapon from it in a blur.
“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” Jay hisses visibly shaking in rage.
“What are you doing? You are ruining my plan! I have that guy wrapped around my finger!” you yell and push against his chest. He is panting heavily but you refuse to be intimidated by it. You hear the door start to open and scramble for your knife.
“Hide, Jay!” you bark and push him behind the dumpster just as Mr. Love Eyes strolls out of the lounge. He gives you a sultry smile and you swallow back the bile rising in your throat.
“And what do I call you, darling?” he attempts to sound sexy but it comes out more like a croak.
“I don’t know about calling me,” you breathe strutting towards him and he follows your movements completely oblivious, “But you can tell me what you did with my friend.” You back him against the wall with the knife in hand and elbow planted where Jay taught you. His eyes bulge and he becomes red-faced.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he sputters and you press the knife closer.
“I am talking about my friend Anthony. He is several inches taller than me, kinda gangly, curly hair, young?” he narrows his eyes.
“Oh, that kid? We ganked him ages ago,” he cackles and you slam him harder against the wall.
“You are lying.”
“Wish I was, sweetheart.”
“No, he is definitely lying because when I asked, he denied remembering him,” Jay testifies as he steps from his hiding spot with his gun held up. You are momentarily distracted and the man tries to take advantage of it. He grabs your wrist and twists it far enough to make you cry out and drop the knife. You stomp on his foot and shove yourself away from him. He takes a step towards you but a shot dangerously close to his head makes him freeze.
“Wouldn’t do that,” Jay cautions slowly making his way towards him. You back away grabbing your knife.
“What do you want with the kid?” Jay interrogates now holding the gun only about a foot from the man’s face.
“Should have known she was your slut, Knight,” he spits. With lightning speed, Jason’s gun cracks him across the face sending blood gushing down the man’s mouth.
“I am sorry, that doesn’t answer my question. What do you want with the kid?” Jay enunciates and you flinch at the danger in his tone. This is what he sounded like before he killed the guy in the gas station. You wrap your arms around yourself becoming suddenly fearful for the outcome of this.
“He was there, he knows where it is, Knight! And we are going to get it before you and impress the boss! And it will be us that stands next to him, not you, not anyone else but us-” Jay swipes his hand down smacking him across his face.
“You are a bonafide idiot. Now, where is he?” Jay raises his hands again and the man starts stammering.
“Okay! Okay! He is being held at Two-Face’s place.” Jason sighs and rubs his head. He then turns the gun back towards the man who becomes a blubbering mess.
“J-Knight!” you correct yourself. He turns and you shake your head. He remains stoic with his concentration on your pleading eyes. He growls and resolves on knocking the man unconscious with the butt of his gun You close your eyes sending a small prayer of thanks.
“Well, I guess that was successful at least. Almost makes wearing this worth it,” you crack and Jay unlatches his helmet so that the front comes up like a visor. The infuriated look on his face makes you wish for him to put it back down.
“Get changed and we are leaving,” he instructs coldly.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the bunker to make a plan to save your friend and put this nightmare to an end,” he growls and you stare at him confused, “Yes, my first thought was to lock you up and chain you into that damn bunker but I know you and if I don’t take you to get him then you will stroll in by yourself. Obviously!”
You open your mouth to protest but nod in agreement. He has a point. You reach for the door when you hear men shouting and glasses breaking.
“Scratch that, I-you will have to deal with it for a little longer,” he catches himself and you stare at him curiously as he slams the front part of his helmet back down. He grabs your hand firmly and starts pulling you down the street.
You weave through the streets, ducking behind corners when you hear voices.
“Jay, why aren’t we getting Anthony now?” you whisper and he shushes you.
“If you want me to not have to shoot people you are going to have to shut up.” You close your mouth irritated.
You make it back to the bunker with zero people being shot and you finally relax once the door is shut behind you. You hunch over trying to catch your breath. Jay takes of his helmet and you mentally curse him for not even breaking a sweat. He stares at you weirdly and you put your hands on your hips. The situation becomes awkward when neither of you know what to say.
“Two-Face has his place on security lockdown,” he exclaims after clearing his throat. You scrunch your eyebrows together.
“What?”
“To answer your question, from earlier.”
“Oh,” you say tightening the tension.
“Y/N, why did you do that? I told you I had it covered,” he drops the anger from his face and you find genuine concern.
“I didn’t think I could rely on you anymore, Jay,” you admit throwing your hands up. He winces and shakes his head. You unwillingly become mesmerized by the white streak that swings loosely.
“I know I have been a Grade A douchebag lately but Y/N,” he turns his blue orbs towards you causing a flutter in your stomach, “that was seriously stupid.”
The attraction quickly turns back into irritation.
“As stupid as busting through the doors of The Iceberg Lounge waving your stupid pistols around demanding answers like some kind of stupid criminal?” you yell and he slams his fist into the wall.
“I did that because I thought you were in danger!”
“Danger? How the hell did you even know I was there?” you scream.
“I tracked your phone! Jeezes Y/N why can’t you fucking see it!” he yells stepping closer. You shake your head thoroughly confused.
“See what?” you gasp as he backs you against a wall and rests a hand next to your head. His face is mere inches from yours and you catch a glimpse of the same pain you witnessed when you almost touched his scar.
“Why I didn’t return for a week? You got me, Y/N. Just when I finally thought I had my life planned out up until the end. I had a goal and I had a plan and I was going to execute it and fuck everything that comes after it. But I fell so fucking hard, and I thought being away would help but,” he squeezes his eyes shut and bows his head as he fights something internally. It finally clicks and the emotions you had been fighting so hard burst through the dam you had created.
“Jay,” you whisper gently tilting his chin to look back up at you. He opens his eyes to reveal newly stormy pupils and the pieces fall into place .You press your lips gently against his and feel him release a deep sigh.
Your lips remain ghosted over his as you look up at him through hooded eyes.
“Let me know you want more,” he breathes gruffly.
“Yes,” you say in between breaths and he captures your lips again. His hand comes up and gently grips the back of your head bringing you closer to him. His other hand slides down your side to rest gently on your hip. You hook your arms around his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. He moans into your mouth and walks you towards the bed before gently setting you down.
“This is okay?” he asks now out of breath standing over you, your deep red lipstick vaguely smeared on his face. You bite your lip and nod gently.
He crawls on top and begins greedily kissing you. The past week dissolving into nothing but a buildup to this moment.
#Jason Todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x you#Red Hood X y/n#batman#BatFam#batman imagine#dc comics#dc
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Deadpool 2: A Spoilertastic Review
One thing I've noticed over the years is that there's nothing like it when someone busts their ass to make a movie happen, defying all odds, and pours their sweat, blood, tears (and in Deadpool's case, probably other fluids we don't want to know about) into a film, and it turns out to reward them spectacularly. Deadpool was one of those movies. They fought for years to get that movie made after the disgraceful ruination of the character in X-Men Origins: Wolverine and they did him justice beyond words. It was magnificently done. It damn near beat Jesus, for fuck's sake. Actual Jesus.
And that's why I think that I don't like the sequel as much.
I've seen this happen many times: a sleeper hit or an unexpected smash hit blockbuster exceeds all expectations and then puts out a sequel. Well, unfortunately, sometimes success can ruin your party. Success, accolades, and the second highest grossing Rated R film of all time had an influence on how Deadpool 2 turned out, if you ask me. When you're not starving for it, then it means that sometimes punchlines don't land as hard, writing is not as tight, and scenes aren't as memorable. When you're already fat and happy, sometimes your motivation to make the best thing ever is just servicable at best.
I think Deadpool 2 is an enjoyable movie, but I think it didn't want it as badly as the first movie did because it was already fat, happy, and satisfied from the first film. Thus, I think they didn't try as hard to make it the best movie possible. It's still a good movie, but it can't compete with the first film by any stretch, and I'll explain why. Naturally, spoiler alert.
Overall Grade: B-/C+
Pros:
-Deadpool himself is still funny, even if the change in tone puts a damper on a lot of the enjoyment.
-Domino shines like a freaking diamond. I already like Zazie Beetz from what I saw of her in FX's show Atlanta, so I was jazzed when they announced her for the role. She still blew my expectations out of the water. I had never seen her do a physical role before, and she absolutely sold me. I'd love to see her in sequels and I sure as hell would watch a spin off of her with other female heroes should the Deadpool franchise get to borrow some X-Men in what I pray will someday be a collaborative effort between Fox and Marvel Studios. She's fantastic. She's the black girl magic the world needs to know about, and I'm so happy studios are coming around realizing black women are a massive untapped source of awesome in superhero films. For the longest time, Storm was all we had and she was weaksauce due to poor writing, but we've slowly been seeing more inclusion with the women of Black Panther and Valkyrie from Ragnarok and now Domino. Keep 'em coming, superhero movies. Black women deserve to conquer the genre and usher in other women of color alongside them.
-The X-Men pulling the door shut gag was top notch. Kudos. Even though it raises some seriously weird questions timeline-wise, I howled. That was brilliantly addressed, especially since it's so painfully obvious in the first movie that Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead were all Fox's stingy ass wanted to spare for poor Mr. Pool.
-Dupinder is still fucking adorable and precious and I'm glad he got his moment of glory.
-The Juggernaut getting a second shot was absolutely fantastic. I was trying to guess who it would be and then I saw that helmet and I might as well have done a fucking T-Rex roar in my seat the theater. Juggernaut was done right. He was everything I dreamt he would be ever since that disappointing appearance in X-Men 3. Don't get me wrong--Vinnie Jones had the right attitude, but making him just regular size guy defeats the whole purpose of why he's so unstoppable and terrifying. He literally ripped Deadpool in half. That was awesome, as was his grudge match with Colossus. I loved them going toe to toe with each other. It was staged extremely well. Aside from Domino, Juggernaut vs. Colossus was by far my favorite part of the film.
-Minor point, but I loved Deadpool's reaction to Yukio. He seemed genuinely charmed by her and vice versa and it was fucking adorable.
-The second post credits scene is exactly as good as the hype made it out to be. Oh God. Deadpool shooting Barakapool several times was just...I mean, it was the cherry on top of the sundae. It was so satisfying, as was the joke about shooting himself before he could star in Green Lantern. I love that Ryan Reynolds was so self aware that he severely fucked up his career from pretty much 2011 until 2016 when he finally got Deadpool made. He knew this movie was the only way he'd ever get himself out of that ditch in his career and I think it was a worthy redemption for sure. I also am so relieved they undid Vanessa's death, because that's the second biggest con I have for this movie as you'll see below.
-The Logan reference had me in stitches. It was so wrong, but so damn funny.
-The "blink and you'll miss it" Brad Pitt cameo. Fuck, that was amazing and surprising, thank you.
-The other "blink and you'll miss it" Alan Tudyk cameo. Holy shit, does Disney really like this man. I am so happy to see Wash getting some really great roles over the years. He's doing great.
Cons:
-Stuffing Vanessa in the Fridge. Alright, so technically I shouldn't put this in here because Deadpool fixes it in the end credits, but it pisses me off that they even attempted this stupid fucking trope. I am tired of dead girlfriends and dead wives used for Mangst. Fucking. Stop. It. Women are just as valid as men as characters. Stop killing them just to make the hero turn Super Saiyan. It's possible to still motivate the male motherfuckers without killing the girl and putting them on a revenge spree or depression spiral. It's lazy writing and all of Hollywood needs to move on from this tired ass trope. Vanessa was extremely charming, funny, and likable in the first Deadpool movie and Morena Baccarin is and has always been so wonderful to enjoy on screen in her dramatic and comedic work. I am so pissed off they Fridged her to only be in five minutes of the fucking movie. They shouldn't have even bothered putting her in the damned credits because she was only there for such a short period. If she didn't have time to film the movie, fine, just find another excuse that she's not there. Morena deserved better, dammit.
-Changing the tone of the film franchise from a screwball comedy to an action "movie" with jokes in it. This is the biggest reason I didn't like this movie as much as the first Deadpool movie. The first Deadpool movie is arguably a parody of superhero films. It takes most of the tropes and pokes fun at them in a really great way, but it also still manages to be a legit, streamlined revenge love story. It strikes the exact tone we'd all been craving ever since we heard the Deadpool movie would be greenlit. So why the fuck is the sequel written like an X-Men movie, but with more jokes? I hate the serious tone. I hate Wade moping over Vanessa, I hate the whole "family" bullshit that is spoken with a straightface somehow despite being almost as unearned as that hideous one in Suicide Squad, I hate Cable moping over his dead family, and I hate the "you're not my friend" bullshit between Wade and the incredibly annoying fat kid whose name I refuse to learn because he irritated me so much. Why did they play it all straightfaced? Why was I expected to see a "real story" in a Deadpool movie? The entire reason I like this franchise and haven't seen an X-Men film (not counting Logan) in years is because the X-Men franchise has completely played itself out. It's substandard acting, substandard writing, it doesn't adapt the comics the way it should, and it's just repetitive. All the movies since First Class are the same. The prequel babies are finally going to just end the charade with Dark Phoenix and I think most of the world is relieved because they have nothing creative or new to offer any longer. Deadpool 2 reeks of that same kind of lame writing and execution. There was no reason to switch the format. I pray to God they go back to formula in X-Force or Deadpool 3. I hate this change with a passion.
-The fat kid is annoying as hell. There, I said it. Fight me if you must. He had no sense of self preservation and the movie didn't go into enough detail to make me care about him in spite of how teeth-grindingly stupid and obnoxious he was. He was written like a twelve year old boy writing fanfiction about himself and Deadpool becoming best buds and fighting crime together. No. No, stop that right now. I don't want any part of it. I get the "he's just a kid" thing but the kid is an asshole and even if he's somehow justified, he's a pain in the ass to watch from start to finish. I also think the kid needs some acting lessons, but that's not entirely his fault. I think he probably just wasn't directed all that well, so I can let that slide, but I did notice it during the film.
-I don't care about Cable. Cable and Deadpool are righteous as fuck in the comics. In this movie? No. This is why I was against Josh Brolin being cast. He has no chemistry with Ryan Reynolds. I get that Cable is the Straight Man to Deadpool's Kooky Man, but they don't gel together at all. I never sensed any bonding even though they are setting it up for franchise reasons. He's just not interesting and he plays the role as blandly as he does all his boring ass biopics and other bland roles. Brolin worked much better as Thanos than he did Cable. Thanos had weight and was threatening and even though his reasoning was utter bullshit, at least he was convicted. Brolin's Cable just felt like some stock stoic character thrown in there as the minor antagonist. I still would have much preferred Liam Neeson or Ron Perlman, and yes, I understand both of them are getting up there in years, but we've seen older actors still kick ass and be in shape, so I think they could have done it if they were offered the part. Brolin is still one of the most drab actors I've ever seen and he just doesn't pull the role off, imo.
-The bait and switch with the X-Force team. This is a minor note for me, as I don't have a background with these characters so it's more for people who know these characters elsewhere and were expecting an awesome team up movie but that's not what they got. Are the gruesome deaths kind of funny? Yeah, sure, but it's kind of rude to advertise them that way and they're not in the movie. I just frown on it. It's not a dealbreaker. It was just disappointing in the same way that the Mandarin in Iron Man 3 was disappointing. I expected more and I got a farce instead.
-I don't know if it's for legal reasons, but it drives me crazy that we still didn't get a Wolverine cameo from Hugh Jackman. I mean, we finally got Deadpool--the real one--and I just want him and Ryan to share the screen again because even though Origins was trash, they were magical together.
-Deadpool's last "death" went on way too long. I was checking my watch. They really should have pulled the trigger on that gag. It was exhausting and not very funny to begin with.
-Negasonic Teenage Warhead getting reduced to an extra pissed me off. She was so great in the first movie and she doesn't get to do anything here and it irks the hell out of me.
-Aside from The Juggernaut vs. Colossus, the fight scenes weren't nearly as creative, cinematic, or memorable as the first film. I've already forgotten everything except the JvC fight and the convoy rescue scene. That's a bummer for me.
-The movie just isn't as funny as the first film. It's not the same kind of tight writing with excellent punchlines and ridiculous phrases that made me remember them. It's been a few days and I don't recall any insults or lines that stuck with me. I'll likely be seeing it again for Memorial Day weekend, but I still don't expect I'll remember much from it.
-Nitpick: God, I still want to push T.J. Miller off a bridge. He is not funny and never has been.
-Nitpick: WHY HAS NO ONE MADE A FIREFLY JOKE ABOUT MORENA BACCARIN AFTER TWO FUCKING DEADPOOL MOVIES?! COME ON. DEADPOOL IS ALL ABOUT NERD REFERENCES. GODDAMMIT MENTION FIREFLY YOU FUCKS. (But to be fair, this could also be because Fox is the reason we only got one season and so maybe they were forbidden from doing it. Still. That pisses me the hell off. Especially since Ryan Reynolds and Nathan Fillion (1) have both played the Green Lantern and (2) were on a sitcom with each other for years. Inexcusable.)
I'm sorry it sounds like I'm shitting on the movie. Really, it's enjoyable. I just think that maybe the first movie set the bar so high I can't help but feel frustrated by the sequel not trying as hard. Based on the online reactions, I'm on my own so...take that as you will, friends. Kyo out.
#Deadpool#Deadpool 2#Wade Wilson#Cable and Deadpool#movie review#film review#Ryan Reynolds#Morena Baccarin#Josh Brolin#Zazie Beetz#spoiler alert#spoilers
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skater girl || calum hood
You turn your snapback around on your head and put your helmet on, you grab your skateboard and your dog’s leash.
“There's my favorite man!” You grin as he comes trotting towards you. “You ready to go Harry?” You ask the Australian Shepherd now sitting at your feet. You lean over and he gives you a kiss. You chuckle and grab his harness and strap him in it and hook his leash.
You'd found it was easier to get around your neighborhood using Harry to pull you on your skateboard than a car for a quick trip to the store, it was only a couple blocks away and Harry loved the exercise. He was walked multiple times a day, up to five if you weren't working, and he went practically everywhere with you. He'd been your companion for 6 years now.
You walk him down the stairs of your building and stop long enough for the neighbor kids to pet him. Harry was good with everyone, he'd never met a person or animal he didn't like.
You get outside, set the skateboard down and jump on it. “Alright Harry! To the store!” You say and he starts, he's good and trained at this so he starts slow and gains momentum. You make sure to pay attention to what was going on around you too but you missed one of the guys in your building calling over to you and Harry.
Harry turned on a dime to greet his friend and that left you flat on your ass with a scraped knee and palms.
“Fuck, Harry…” you groan under your breath. You check your palms and carefully wipe the rocks and gravel out of your skin and then do the same for your knee. Harry comes whizzing by and is running in the opposite direction before you can fathom what's happening.
You quickly jump to your feet and grab your board and start chasing him. You come up on him and he's sitting and wagging his tail at a stranger. He's over six feet tall and has dark hair with golden skin and he's petting Harry.
“Who's this handsome fella?” He asks, looking up at you.
“His name is Harry, and he's friendly!” You say, finally closing in on him.
“Shit, what happened to you?” The stranger asks, looking at the blood dripping down your leg.
“Although Harry is friendly and quite smart, he's super distractible. Someone called his name and he turned on a dime which the skateboard and I did not do.” You explain.
“Well where ya headed? I know it's not far, I've seen you around, I can walk with you guys, make sure no more accidents happen.” The stranger explains with his Australian accent.
“No offense, but I don't even know your name.” You point out.
“Right, excuse me. I'm Calum, friends call me Cal.” He holds his hand out and you shake it, introducing yourself in the process. Cal grabs the leash, and you unclip your helmet, and pull it off your head then reclip it so you can hang it off the truck before you heft the skateboard over your shoulder to carry.
“Well Calum, Harry and I are headed to the store.” You shrug, “but we’ll be alright if you need to get on with your day.”
“No.” He lets out a little sigh, “I'm not really up to anything.” He continues walking with you and it's quiet for a while. But he finally pipes up, “So, Harry…?”
“He's an Australian shepherd.” You answer.
“And his name?” Cal asks.
“He's possibly named after Harry Styles.” You admit with a smirk.
“I was guessing that.” He laughed. “I'm sure he'd be honored to share his name with such a handsome dog.”
“Maybe.” You laugh with a shrug. “Grew out of that phase a while ago though.”
“Trust me, he'd be cool with it. I toured with him.” Cal slips in.
“Wait… toured with him?” You ask. “That would mean you'd have to be in a band or a tech.”
“I'm in a band. It's refreshing you don't know who I am, actually.” He grinned.
“You dress like I should know your band… like you're right up my ally.” You admit, throwing a look in his direction. “What band?”
“5 seconds of summer.” He says matter of factly, “5sos.” He shrugs.
“I don't think I've ever heard your stuff.”
“Heh, not surprising. You might never come across it if you aren't in that scene.”
“Like I know of you, as a band, but I've never heard your stuff I guess. You guys have written with bands I like.”
“Ok, ok. So, we're going to the store?” Cal asks. You nod. “What are we gonna do with this guy?” He asks holding up the leash to indicate Harry.
“Oh, I take Harry in all the time! They know him. I just walk him to the back office and the store owner keeps him in there until it's time to go. He holds my skateboard too.”
“You've got this place wired.” Cal chuckles.
“I've lived around here awhile. There aren't many people who don't know me or I, them. And I swear people know Harry before they know me.”
“Well, he's so handsome! How does anyone get past that?” He laughs.
“Exactly.” You grin. You look over at Cal and he's smiling at you.
“You are something else.” He mentions.
Cal walks with you quietly, not saying anything. He watches as you take Harry around back and drop him off with the manager, who takes your skateboard as well. You walk through the back and into the store and several people greet you. Cal awkwardly waves.
As you're shopping for produce, one of the produce guys stops you and starts chatting you up.
Cal finds that after knowing you for 15 minutes, he was getting a little jealous of this guy.
“What happened to your knee?” The guy asked.
“Uh.. Harry got away from me.” You hold up your palms. “My… our new friend, Calum,” you gesture to him, “was able to wrangle him.”
The guy looks Calum over and nods, “Well, come with me, I'll clean ya up.” He smiles at you and you grin back and nod. “Calum… it's Calum right? You'll be fine for a few minutes.”
“Oh, nah, Cal, come on.” You grin at him and hold out your hand.
Cal smirked as he took your hand, seeing the dirty look the produce guy gave him.
You chat with Cal while the produce guy cleans your hands and knee and bandages you. He talks a little about his music but mostly his love for dogs and his friends.
And Cal admires you while you talk. You're kind to everyone you come across and you're completely chill. You obviously love animals.
Cal grins. He was happy to escort you home with the dog and your groceries, happy to come inside and have dinner with you when you invited him.
Cal finds himself grinning a lot around you. So much so, that he's enamored and wants to keep seeing you. Which you didn't expect. Most guys get bored because Harry is the only man in your life and you tell them that from the get go.
But Cal was different. He'd come around, ask you to do things, include Harry, because he was always including his new puppy. He'd hang out at the skate park with you.
And then one night, after you'd been at his house, with Harry and the pup, having a couple drinks and a dinner he cooked, Cal made his move. Pressed his lips to yours so softly, you were barely sure it happened.
And then he looked nervous, because you'd told him about other guys and he was sure he was gonna have the same fate.
But you grinned at him and pressed a more firm kiss to his lips and he eagerly responded by pulling you closer.
masterlist||
#calum hood#skater girl#cal imagine#but cal!#5sos#5sos imagine#cth#puppy#i think i'm falling for you
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“Birthday Sex”
Tig Trager x Reader
(GIF isn’t mine)
SMUT!!!!
This is for you doll @mjcumberbatch Happy (early) Birthday!
______________________________
[Your Perspective]
“Your birthday is coming up…” he trailed off as he held the phone to his ear.
“Yes it is,” you smiled in response, “but you know I’m not big about birthdays Filip.” You could tell by how awkwardly he brought up the subject that he had something in mind. You were hoping he’d come back to Easterhouse to visit the family, but you knew that was a long shot. Filip hadn’t been back since he left as a teen. You were the only family he was even close to anymore. The rest had labeled him a black sheep and moved on with their lives without him.
“So why don’t ye come out here an’ spend your birthday in California?”
You saw that request coming from a mile away, “I don’t know Filip I–”
“–Lass you haven’t visited in years. Me an’ the guys, we all miss you… Tig too,” he added, causing you to blush. There was a teasing tone in his voice that antagonized you. Chibs knew you had a small crush on his outlaw brother, but he also knew, unbeknownst to you, that Tig had grown fond of you the last time you visited on your birthday four years ago.
“Alright, fine,” you spoke finally, feigning annoyance, “I’ll come. I’ll text you my flight details when I know them.”
“I’ll be waiting at the airport for you when you land, lass,” Chibs smiled and hung up the phone, pushing away from the desk in the office at TM and walking out into the garage where Tig, Bobby, Opie, Clay and Jax were all working on bikes and cars for customers.
“Just got off the phone with (Y/N)…” Chibs paused as he saw everyone’s attention turn to him, but none’s head whipped around quicker at the mention of your name than Tig Trager. Chibs grinned, “…She’ll be joinin’ us in Charming for her birthday next week.”
“That’s really good, brother,” Clay smiled, patting the Scotsman on the back, “It’ll do you good to have your family around for a little while.”
“Yeah…” he smiled back, looking across the garage at Tig whose mouth was agape as he stared off into space. Chibs didn’t know what it was about his younger cousin that made Tig so nervous, but it was entertaining to watch.
~+~
[Tig’s Perspective]
“Where’s Chibby going?” Tig asked Bobby as the two watched Chibs clock out from the garage.
“(Y/N)’s plane lands in 2 hours, he’s getting the van and taking it up to the airport pick her up,” Bobby replied. He, too, knew about Tig’s schoolboy infatuation with Chibs’ younger family member.
“Well, uh, you think he needs help?”
“Wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Bobby nudged Tig who took off in a slow jog over to his brother.
“H-hey man where’ya goin?” Tig questioned as he caught up to Chibs.
“Airport,” was Chibs’ one syllable response as he kept walking.
“Oh ok…” Tig trailed off and stopped walking, leaving Chibs to head towards the van alone.
“You can come too if you want,” Chibs called over his shoulder to Tig who perked up and continued following Chibs to the van, “Thanks man,” Tig smiled as they headed out to Oakland to pick up (Y/N).
~+~
[Your Perspective]
You picked up your luggage and headed out to the pickup/drop off area, having already called Filip from the plane to let him know you had landed before you deboarded, you knew he was out in the pick up lane waiting for you. What you didn’t expect was that Alexander Trager was also waiting for you.
Shit, you thought, I’ve just flown thousands of miles and I look terrible.
This wasn’t how you wanted to be dressed when you met Tig again. You silently cursed Chibs for bringing him along as you plastered a smile on your face and walked up to your cousin, giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek followed by a hug from Tig. He smelled like grease, whiskey, cologne and leather all mingled together and it was perfect. You held onto him a little longer than you normally would with a guy you’d only met twice before, but he didn’t seem to notice as you pulled away and took a deep breath, “So where to now?”
“Figured you’d want to rest and wash up, so I was thinking of heading to the hotel,” Chibs answered and you nodded, “Sounds perfect!”
The hotel was small, but nice, and as you pulled up, Tig leaned up between the two front seats from the back, “So your birthday is tomorrow, right?” he asked, smiling charmingly at you.
“Yeah I am getting quite old,” you replied, flashing a smile back.
“At least you’re not my age,” Chibs joked, and you scoffed in response, “I’m not THAT much younger than you, Filip!”
“Aye, it makes a difference,” he assured you as he put the van in park and the two of your got out of the van and walked to the back where Tig was, pulling your things out already.
“D’you need help up?” Tig asked, one of your bags was in his hand but you took it from him gently, “I think I can handle it, but thanks,” you winked and gave Filip another kiss on the cheek, thanking the two of them for picking you up before walking towards the building to check in.
“By the way,” Chibs yelled to you, “Gemma’s cooking tonight we’re all going to her place for dinner. I’ll pick ya up at seven!”
You gave him a thumbs up before disappearing out of sight.
Dinner was amazing. Gemma was a great cook, Chibs’ biker brothers were hilarious and you enjoyed hearing their conversations and all the competing they do with one another. From little things like who can change out brake pads the fastest to bigger things like who gets the hottest girlfriends, these guys competed on every level. Luckily, you were sat between Filip and Tig, your two favorite guys, and they were doing a great job of keeping you entertained.
~+~
[Tig’s Perspective]
“I’m telling ya,” Tig began as he stretched his arm out and across the top of your seatback, looking down the table at the rest of his friends, “The only reason I haven’t settled down is because I haven’t found the right one yet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mop the ground with all you guys when it comes to who pulls the hottest broads. Seriously.”
A chorus of laughter erupted from the table, “Yeah like too tall tammy,” Juice giggled and Tig groaned, “C’mon! That was my first time trying peyote I thought she was regular sized,” Tig defended.
“What was your excuse for bedding manly Monica then?” Clay asked seriously, to which the table giggled and laughed some more.
“You know what, fuck you guys.” Tig growled and stood up from the table, throwing his napkin on his plate and heading out to the back patio.
“Aww c’mon Tiggy we’re just havin’ a bit of fun!” Chibs called after him as he bit into a dinner roll, but Tig didn’t turn around. Chibs knew the teasing wasn’t what bothered Tig, it was making a mockery of him in front of (Y/N) that had actually pissed him off.
~+~
[Your Perspective]
After several minutes had passed, and the conversation had moved on to other competitions, you decided to check on the dark-haired biker. It seemed nobody else was going to.
You stepped outside and the cool night air nipped at you as you folded your arms across your chest and approached him.
“You alright?” You asked, startling him from what seemed like deep thought, “Wha–Oh. Yeah… I’m good, doll,” he faked a smile and took a drag of his already-lit cigarette.
You knew he was lying but you could tell he wasn’t the type to open up when pushed so you let it be.
“I’m getting kind of tired,” you sighed, “Jetlagged maybe, or I’m still on Scotland time,” you laughed and he chuckled politely, “Do you think you could give me a lift home?”
Tig hesitated to answer and you suddenly felt embarrassed for asking, “I’m sorry. It’s not your job to be my chauffeur I know that I’ll just ask–”
“–I’d love to, darlin’,” he smiled. The smile looked genuine this time, but it was covering something else, frustration, determination, you weren’t sure. Ashing out his cigarette in the flowerbed below and taking your hand, much to your surprise, he lead you around the front to his bike.
As he pulled up outside, you took off the helmet he gave you and handed it to him. He put it on his own head and buckled it, resting his hand on his handlebars once he was done and looking at you. You were extremely nervous. As much as you wanted to invite him up, you also didn’t want him to think of you as loose. You had no idea how to play it, but you weren’t going to be in Charming forever and this guy was the object of all of your fantasies since you first met him when you were a teenager.
“Did you want to come up for a drink?” you asked, hoping he took the hint and accepted.
~+~
[Tig’s Perspective]
Does she really mean a drink, Tig thought to himself when you asked him the question, or does she mean…
He didn’t know if your invite had a veiled meaning, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself so he decided he’d play it cool and take the offer at face value: You asked if he wanted a drink.
“I’ve got some things I gotta do tonight, doll,” he answered, “Can I take a rain check?” he asked instead.
At least this way he didn’t seem uninterested completely, but it kept him from seeming like a dick if you were honestly just inviting him for a night cap.
“S-sure…” you trailed off, “If you change your mind i’m in 221,” you smiled, “Thanks for the ride!”
“Anytime.” Tig winked and revved his engine, as you took a couple steps back and he shifted it into gear.
~+~
[Your Perspective]
You watched as he roared away before retiring to your room for the night and shooting Chibs a message to let him know you were back at the hotel safely. It was barely 10 o’clock when you made it up to your room so you settled for a shower and some light reading while you began to wind down. Eventually you drifted off to sleep.
You woke up to a knock on your hotel door, and looked over to see if anyone had called you but nobody had. It was also just after midnight, so you were sure that someone had knocked on your door by accident but you decided to check it out anyway. You crept to the peep hole and looked out, surprised to see a familiar face.
You opened the door to find Tig standing there leaning against the door frame. He looked conflicted, stressed, so you didn’t mention the time, you just stood there silently for a moment until he locked eyes with you and spoke, “I’ll have that drink now,” he spoke seriously as he waited to be let inside.
“Fuck the drink,” you huffed stepping to him in the threshold and grabbing him by the collar, kissing him harshly as he began to kiss you back.
Tig walked you back into your hotel room and shut the door behind him, turning you around, pressing you against the back of the door and bracing himself with his palms flat against the door frame. Your hands were still affixed to his collar when he pulled away from your lips and moved down to your neck, tasting as much of your skin as he could and moving his hands down to hold your hips. All of his movements were rushed, hurried, and as if he was afraid you would stop him at any moment and make him leave.
“Tig,” you breathed, causing him to snap his head up to look at you, “Come here,” you took his hand, leading him to your bed as his face immediately washed over with relief. You sat on the bed and he took his kutte off, setting it down and sitting beside you, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced across your skin. He began to unbuckle his belt and your hands went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it and sliding it off as he finished with his belt and fly and took off his jeans and boots. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest underneath before he kissed you again. You stood from your position beside him on the bed and slid off your bottoms, and as the fabric of your panties hit the floor, you moved to stand in front of him.
~+~
[Tig’s Perspective]
Tig looked up at you with fire in his eyes. He had never looked at anyone the way he looked at you as he leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive skin. His arms wrapped around you, running his fingers up your back and pulling you into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed, hauling you down and grinding his hips up against your center as he stroked your back, holding you tightly.
With a quick jerk of his body he was on top of you, his boxers were tight over his erection which was pressed against your pelvis as he attacked your lips again, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, gripping the sheets on either side of your head in his fists. You trailed your hands down his chest to his bulge and he groaned into your mouth as you stroked him up and down.
“Take these off,” you half-asked, half-commanded to which he obliged, lifting himself up and pulling them down to kick them off.
“I’ve wanted this for so long (Y/N),” he breathed into your ear as he rubbed himself against your center and trailed a hand down your torso to stroke your wet, hot, core.
“Mmm… Me too, Tig,” you moaned.
“Fuck, doll!” he growled, muffled, against your neck, “I want you so bad.”
“Take me,” was your last response before he palmed his cock and slid inside you, a gasp resonating from each of your throats.
~+~
[Your Perspective]
Tig entered you and it was like everything in your life that you ever wanted or needed had moved back a row. You knew immediately that you were meant to be together, he was the missing piece to your jigsaw puzzle. When he began thrusting, the moment of epiphany faded and you snapped back to reality, the reality being that he felt amazing inside you. He was hitting all the right spots in a way that only a man with his experience could.
You wrapped your arms around him, holding tightly to his back and tossing your head back. As he thrusted into you, you rolled your hips in sync with his motions, causing him to lean forward and bite down on your shoulder to suppress a moan. When you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, he growled, moving his hands up to the headboard and gripping it for leverage.
The new position made him able to pound into you harder, and he used it to his advantage, making you moan loudly, scratching his back deeper.
“That’s it baby,” he coaxed you, “Tell me how much you like this dick.”
“Mmm, Tig!”
“Ohh yeah, (Y/N), I love it when you moan my name, doll,” he groaned as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your orgasm approaching as he fucked you closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m about to cum,” you gasped, your hands shooting from his back to the sheets, gripping them until your knuckles turned white.
“Cum for me baby, come on, cum for me,” he begged you, his breathing was labored and told you that his climax was close as well. You wrapped your fingers around the back of his head, gripping his curly dark hair tightly and wrenching his face down to yours as you kissed him roughly. The two of you came together, your lips barely touching as you stared into each other’s eyes.
You woke up to the tone of your phone ringing and realized you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms. You smiled, remembering the events of the night before and ignoring the phone to roll over and face the man in your bed.
His eyes were still closed, breathing deeply, as you placed a soft kiss against his lips, followed by a deeper, longer one. He shifted a bit and started kissing you back, squeezing you tightly against him and smiling against your lips before he pulled back and opened his eyes.
“G’mornin,” you whispered matching his smile with your own.
“Happy Birthday, doll. I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me when you woke up,” Tig responded, throwing you off a bit. You didn’t know what to say and he knew it, so he spoke again, “I just haven’t woke up too many mornings to see a woman close to as beautiful as you, and when I did, they weren’t very happy to see me.”
“Is that what last night was about?” You asked, suddenly understanding, “You’re afraid of rejection?”
You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked down at him as he looked back at you. He didn’t answer you, he didn’t have to, you knew that’s what it was.
You smiled, “Big bad Tigger was afraid little (Y/N) was going to turn him down, even though she has had feelings for him since the first time she met him. That’s what you’re telling me?”
Tig’s eyes lit up upon hearing your confession, his nose crinkled as he smiled and pulled you to lay across his chest, “You really have feelings for me?”
“Of course, Alex. Do you think I would come all the way out here just to visit Filip?” You rolled your eyes, “Big bad Tigger, more like Big DUMB Tigger,” you joked, tracing patterns along his sternum as he ran his hands up and down your arms and shoulders.
“So what now? You gotta leave to go home in a couple days and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”
You were interrupted by the ringing of your phone again and you huffed, rolling off of your blue-eyed bedmate to answer it.
~+~
[Tig’s Perspective]
Tig stared at you, taking in the curves of your cheeks, the slope of your nose… he knew he was in trouble when it came to you. He had never felt this way before. He was so lost in his observations of you that he didn’t notice you end the phone call and turn to look at him, “That was Filip,” you told him, “He wanted to know what my plans were for the day…” you trailed off, looking at Tig.
“Well…” he stood up, the sheets falling off of his naked frame as he lifted his kutte and dug in a pocket, concealing something in his fist and sitting back on the bed, “If I give you your present, will you think about including me in your plan?” Tig smiled triumphantly, sitting up and leaning towards you to kiss your bare shoulder as he opened his hand and a beautiful silver necklace fell to hang from his fingers. Your mouth hung open, “Tig! It’s beautiful. When did you–”
“I bought it when Chibs told me you were coming for your birthday, I was just scared to give it to you…”
~+~
[Your Perspective]
You kissed him sweetly, “Well I love it,” you said as your pulled away and put it on.
Tig traced the chain with his forefinger, studying it against your skin, “So what about those plans?” he asked.
“You want me to tell my cousin that I have plans with you? He will know we slept together.”
“I know,” Tig grinned again, “I want him to know,” he kissed your collarbone, “I want everyone to know,” he moved to your neck.
“You mean…?”
You didn’t get to finish your question because he had already answered, “Yes.”
“But what about–”
“We can figure anything else out later, doll. I want you to be my girl. And I want to make sure my girl has a good birthday.”
You laughed as he pulled you to him and kissed you, leaning into you and turning you so you were on your back. You tangled your fingers in his curls as he assaulted your neck murmuring against your skin, “Now relax and get ready for your present,” he growled and you chuckled. “But Tig you already gave me a present… I need to call Filip back and tell him I have plans…” You protested to no avail as he continued to trail kisses down your torso towards your pelvis.
Happy Birthday To You.
#tig trager#tig#tig imagine#tig smut#tig trager imagine#tig trager smut#alexander trager#alex trager#soa#soa imagine#soa smut#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy smut#happy birthday imagine#chibs telford
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How Not to Blend (Lovestrong Book 1)
One clueless single dad…
Dr. Corbin Davis is a busy guy just trying to do his best as a single parent. He may be oblivious to a lot of things, but surely he would’ve noticed something as important as his fifteen-year-old son, Grayson, being bullied, right? And what the heck is non-binary, and why hasn’t Gray shared this all-important part of himself with his own dad?
Plus one sassy Southerner…
Andy Ferguson, or Kandi as the Thursday night drag community knows him, is just trying to get along in a small town and hold things together while he takes care of his beloved Gam-Gam. If she’d just get off his back about finding himself a man, that would be fantastic, thank you very much. He’ll get around to love… one of these days.
Equals a pair of fake-boyfriends who will keep you in stitches.
When Corb gets the wild idea to ask Andy to pose as his boyfriend to let Gray know that his dad is bisexual and open-minded enough to talk to about his nonbinary status, Andy is amused and just intrigued enough to say yes… especially since he seems to be in the market for a fake boyfriend himself, if it will get Gam-Gam to quit nagging.
Quick look:
Rating: ☕☕☕☕☕
Heat wave: 4? definitely sex
Frequency: 2? confined mostly to the end
Pop culture references: fuck this. too...i dunno
Funniest sex line: awful line about someone’s penis head being “Darth-Vader-helmet-shaped”
The Review:
Uncomfortable stereotypes and language straight from social media
I wanted to like this book. The character concepts were compelling--a bi man trying to communicate with his non-binary son gets help from a campy/flamboyant gay man (drag queen?). Not quite run-of-the-mill even in M/M fiction.
(Brief note for context of my background: I am an AFAB non-binary ace/bi guy in his early twenties and am white)
One thing I have a heck of a time getting past in this book is the language used in both dialogue and narration, especially from Andy's perspective. There is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with being/writing a campy gay dude. But so much of the "sassy" language used by non-black gay guys is directly appropriated from AAVE (this goes hand in hand with the "secret sassy black woman" thing some gay guys talk/joke about; big no no). In some sense that language appropriation makes the character more true to life, but it makes it nearly impossible for me to actually like Andy. His grandmother bugs me a lot too, but that may have more to do with my inability to get all the emotional cues in written word.
Actually, I almost (but not quite) feel the three ladies in this book are all sort of the same person. Aside from names, ages, and jobs, they don't seem very distinct.
I also shy away from drag, especially in its modern form, where it tends to--surprise, surprise--appropriate Black culture in language if nothing else. A not insignificant amount of modern drag is heavily influenced by RuPaul's Drag Race, and tends to be very misogynistic in addition to appropriative. (The b*tchy-ness and trash talk in back rooms seems reflective of stereotypical mean girl talk) Classic drag from the ball era was more diverse and tended more towards personal expression/exploration than fulfilling stereotypes.
Then there's the non-binary son, Grayson. He seems like a good kid, and I did mostly enjoy his character. The whole discussion around his gender identity was more than a bit uncomfortable for me. The inevitable missteps on his father's part were fine, but I ultimately came away with the feeling that neither Grayson nor the author had a good understanding of what his identity really was. Attempting to say that he is genderfluid because he has variable feelings of masculinity and femininity is like saying I'm genderfluid because I usually present masculine/neutral but sometimes really like nail polish or lip color. No doubt it is like that for some folks out there, but for a book that seems intent on "teaching" about the idea of being non-binary, the necessary narrative of broad variation is missing for me.
I'm willing to bet that most people who read this will think I'm being overly harsh. But reviews are for opinions, so here's mine.
(Note: all ratings start at 5 stars and lose stars for things I don't like.)
Additional Review Things not included on Goodreads:
Part of Grayson’s story involves severe bullying (to the point of being knocked unconscious) from a football player we are lead to believe is in the closet. This is probably my least favorite stereotype; while it is true that even bullies and abusers are human, it is unwise to give the impression that violent homophobes are only violent because they are denied the ability to be openly gay themselves. This can leave people with the misguided notion that homophobes would change if given the opportunity to be out themselves. This could be true for youths, but it is neither excuse or explanation for physical assault and attempted sexual assault.
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What Now?
DEANxFem!ReaderXZico
Genre: Angst
Word Count:3416
Description: You and dean have been together for several years. He met you through a friend of his sometime after his career took off. You knew what his career would entail but you did’t know how cold he would become after it. What happens when you guys get in a fight and you both say things you probably shouldn’t? What will you do and where will you go? Read to find out.
Inspired by: What Now By: Rihanna
“I live my life like this
Tell me how could I miss
Giving you everything you deserve
You know I be doin' the most
While you be back at home
I promise baby it could be worse
I'm out here gettin' my money
Everyday sunny
Steez on flame
I know, I know
Telling my chauffeur "Hurry up and wait"
Too too, he be like
Too too, time to hit that road
Zoom, you on your solo
While I'm takin' photos to post
Whoo, I know you feel crazy now”
The same lyrics I once sung along with, flowing from his mouth so easily, were now nothing more than an annoyance. He was on stage and I was at home watching from a video stream as usual. They were true though, every ounce of the words he sang, they were true. They stuck in my head and down my spine like darts.
Yea I feel crazy. I feel insane sitting here doing laundry knowing very well when you come home you are just gonna throw your dirty clothes on the floor. I feel crazy when I make you your favorite food and you throw it away or give it to your buddies. When you look at other girls when you are out with me. Blowing me off even in your free time to “work”. For the fact that I still love you.
Girl, I forgot about missin' you
Said, I forgot about missin' you
I've been too busy out gettin' my yaper
I ain't got time to be thinkin' bout you
I've been on your mind, true
Twenty racks on my wrist
Still I ain't got time for you
Home girls lookin' at me like
"What's up, what's up?
What's good, what's good
Where you at right now?
How long will you be on my side of town?"
I turned off the video unable to deal with it anymore. He wasn’t as bad before. We had hiccups in the beginning like any couple, but sometime after 2 years, he started to just let me go. No more dates, no more cuddling in bed. When I dressed up for him, all I earned was a sidelong glance and an eye roll. When we went out together he wouldn’t show even the smallest amount of skin-ship. Always opting to pay attention to anyone or anything else. He didn’t even care if another man or woman hit on me. It was absurd at this point. I was long past feeling pity for myself. I was fed up and I wasn’t going to hide it tonight.
*Ding*
Dean’s Manager:
Y/N Dean will be late getting home tonight.
Traffic is tight and ‘The Guys’, as he calls it, showed up.
Talked on for ages. Looks like they are going to meet up somewhere.
You know the deal. Sorry yet again.
-x
He hasn’t been home in 6 days and he decides to go out more?! No that’s it! I am so done! You wanna make me feel crazy I’ll show you crazy! You aren’t even on tour!!
Not even bothering to change, I stormed out of the house in my white tank, leggings, and high tops. It was chilly so I at least grabbed a Letterman jacket. I started up my motorcycle and threw on my helmet, taking off into the night, zooming through the city streets. I had a strong idea of where he would be and headed straight for the club downtown. I cut off a few cars and was nearly hit once or twice but I didn’t care; I was on a mission. By the time I reached the club my rage was full blown. I’ve had to come here several times before because of him. Be it for him not coming home on time or some skeezy girl sending me a pic of her and him on his phone. So when the bouncer saw me coming up he only shook his head and opened the door for me. People all throughout Dean’s social life knew about what he was doing to me. It was well known, just not to the media. He was just a kind and seriously talented young artist to them. But we all knew better.
I pushed past the crowds of people and past the bar. Turning down the dark red and purple hallway that led to the private rooms. I was just about to open the door to room 21 (his preferred room) when a familiar face opened it before I could. In front of me stood Zico. At first he was a bit surprised but soon an all-knowing look replaced that.
“I guess I should send him out right?” he asked scratching his neck.
“Either you do or I’ll get him myself; you take your pick.”
“Alright one sec”, and with that he turned around shutting the door. I heard the laughter die down and a few shrill voices make snide remarks. I didn’t care though. I leaned my back against the opposite wall waiting for him. It didn’t take much longer either thankfully. The door opened to reveal him laughing at something someone had said before he quickly shut it and looked up at me with a blank face. He said nothing, only a quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms, leaning against the door to mirror my pose. I scoffed.
“So you’re not gonna say anything to your loving girlfriend whom you haven’t seen, texted, or even called in nearly a week?”
“I was busy”
“Right. Like always. You know I almost feel like I’m dating your manager with how much I talk to him compared to you.” At that he shifted uncomfortably but I persisted.
“Ya know normally I would just act as I always have and ignored this. But for a year, A YEAR, I have been dealing with this. You EMAILED ME TO PICK UP YOUR DRY CLEANING ON OUR ANNIVERSARY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD AND YOU CAN’T EVEN TEXT ME YOURSELF WHEN YOU ARE GONNA BE HOME LATE?! AM I SOME HOUSE MAID TO YOU?”
My throat was already beginning to get raw but I was only beginning. But he smirked at me. HE FUCKING SMIRKED! Even worse was, despite the smell of alcohol, his gaze was steady and even. He stood up from the door and leaned over me parting his lips into a vicious smile.
“Ha! A maid would be above you. At least they get paid. I know you expect me to feel bad here but honestly you did this to yourself. I mean what did you expect? I’m out here living the dream! Making something of myself! I don’t have time to worry about you all the damn time. You told me to focus on my dream and you understood. You said you could handle this but obviously you can’t handle anything! Hell you wouldn’t be anything without me would you? All you do is follow me around all the time. You’re not special. You’re just another girl in the crowd. Do you even try?”
“Do I even try? DO I EVEN TRY? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? All I fucking do is try for you, you ungrateful shit stick! I cook, I clean, I dress up, and a bite my tongue. I run back and forth thinking about you all the goddamn time and you want to ask me if I even try? NO fuck you! Now you listen to me here Kwon Hyuk. I was going to hear you out tonight. Let you rattle off another half assed excuse and take it for what it was because I LOVED you.”, He flinched, “But I am not going to accept this level of disrespect and abuse. You want to live your dream in peace? Here! Fucking have your peace then! Don’t come back to the fucking apartment! I live off you? I feed off you? I bought the fucking place. I pampered you in every which way I could manage so I am SO FUCKING SORRY IT WASN’T ENOUGH!”
“FINE! GO THEN! I DON’T NEED YOU AND I NEVER HAVE! THERE ARE PLENTY OF OTHER GIRLS WAITING IN LINE TO BE WITH ME AND THEY ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER BE!”
At this point we were in each others faces, dangerously close, feeling each other’s hot breath and cold stares. I could see his fists clenched at his sides as he slowly began popping his knuckles in frustration. He had kept his volume even and relatively low (until the last bit) but I made sure everyone in the room behind him heard me.
Let them think I’m crazy. Let them cover his tracks for him. Let them get tossed to the side like everyone else he uses like this I don’t fucking care anymore.
“Ya know Y/N You’ve really changed”, he said through gritted teeth with narrowed eyes.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
~1 year later~
“Hello Y/L/N Y/F/N? I am calling to inform you that your audition was a success. We at SM Entertainment are happy to welcome you aboard and would like to get started working with you immediately. Can you come in today? We would like to get you adjusted and have a briefing. Training will begin tomorrow at 6am so dress accordingly. Thank you again for auditioning. We look forward to hearing back from you.”
*Beeeep*
I had already called back hours ago but was listening to the voice mail again in shock. Pacing around the living room waiting for my friend to come over to celebrate. I had been running errands all day so I didn’t get the call until 20 min after the voicemail had been left. I was so scared they would be mad but they were actually very understanding to my surprise. My grocery bags laid stacked by the door still as I hadn’t even begun to even think of putting them away after I initially played my answering machine. So to say I was startled when a pair of hands gently grabbed me by my shoulders would be a vast understatement.
“OOWAAHHH~!! Oh omo It’s only you thank goodness.”
“Only me? Pshh yea only your bestest friend in the world Zico. Ya know little lady you have quite the privilege to say things like that. Most Idols can’t even call me their best friend.”, he said smirking then bending down to pick up my grocery bags. “Why are you pacing so much anyways? Aren’t you excited? You can finally be almost as dope as me.”
I shoved him lightly, chuckling a bit and shaking my head. Ever since that night when me and Dean fought, Zico has been by my side like glue. He had felt bad, as if it was his fault purely for even introducing me and him to each other. We had been friends for only a month at that time and met up at a club to hang out. But now, after everything had passed, he turned out to be my closest and most trustworthy friend. Though sometimes when we were alone he would say things that upon first glance would seem harmless. But they would never fail to bring an uneasiness to my stomach and make my heart race. I guess somewhere along the way I began to all for him.
“Now you know darn well I am far more dope than you Zi. I mean you can’t compare to my good looks”, I said with a hair flip and a wink. He just laughed with a bright eye closed smile while putting my groceries away; stealing a few grapes too.
“Yea you certainly got me beat there. You’re too beautiful for me to compete with.”
We both nervously laughed with a blush evident on our faces. We did things like this a lot now but neither of us said anything about it. We spent the whole night laughing and talking before settling to watch a movie. I fell asleep about halfway through though and woke up curled into his side with his arm protectively around me. Normally I would’ve been stricken with embarrassment, as red as a tomato, but I was too tired and comfortable to fully process the situation. When I next woke I was wrapped in a blanket with a note next to me
.
“Sorry Y/N for skipping out like this. I had to get to the studio to work on some new stuff. You looked to cute asleep in my arms so I couldn’t possibly wake you. I left a coffee for you on the counter though. Don’t be late to your first day! Knock’em dead! Fighting!
-Zi”
I smiled with a long forgotten feeling bubbling in my chest. Zico was always doing little things to make me smile and surprise me. I grabbed the coffee, sipping it while it still was warm, and got ready to head out for the day.
After a few months I had already begun working on a demo album. Zi and I finally talked about our friendship and each other and begun dating. Tonight we were going out to celebrate. Nothing too serious though, just a walk through the city at night with delicious street food and lots of jokes. The stars were bright over head and I was the happiest I had been in a while. That is until I bumped into the last person I’d ever want to see.
“Oh I am so so sorry sir! Are you-”
“Y/N?”
“Uh-..”, I slowly lifted my bowed head and peered into the unmistakable dark eyes that once looked at me with tenderness and love; now holding nothing more than emptiness. Zi pulled me into his side protectively while watching his “friend” closely. It was common news that me and Zi were close but no one knew yet that we were dating. But Dean was far too smart for that and new immediately upon looking at us.
“Ah so you are Idol hopping now eh? Heh can’t go very long without clinging to someone can you now Y/N”, he laughed but it was drained. He looked behind him as a small girl came running up to him. She smiled innocently at us, and I felt bad for her, knowing she knew nothing of how he was with women.
“I’m sorry. You’re Dean right? Wow! Never thought I’d meet you! Well good bye!”, I said quickly. He didn’t deserve my time, and I wasn’t going to sour Zi’s or that girl’s night because Kwon was immature. I turned and left him, along with any pain or regret, behind me. I worked my ass off for years, exercising, taking singing and dance lessons. We released my first solo EP and I even did a few songs with Idols like Baekhyun, J-min, and of course my best friend Zico. Before I knew it I was nominated for Rookie Of The Year and was going up to perform my most popular cover so far. Zi would of course be in the crowd cheering me on along with the rest of the competing idols in the industry. I had made many friends along my way, including members of TWICE and Sistar. My closest female friend so far now though was Jessica. We’ve known eachother for 2 ½ years now and she has really encouraged and inspired me up until this very moment.
The lights dim, the crowd hushes, and I make my way to center stage in secret. Im dressed in a midnight blue high-low dress with my hair curled loosely. All I see when the lights go up is silver twinkling around me. I take a deep breath, letting my body role with the music around me, and I let myself become lost in the emotion.
I been ignoring this big lump in my throat
I shouldn't be crying, tears were for the weak
The days I'm stronger, know what, so I say
That's something missing
Whatever it is, it feels like it's laughing at me through the gla** of a two-sided mirror
Whatever it is, it's just sitting there laughing at me
And I just wanna scream
“Dean! I missed you so much! I made your favorite dinner!
“Mhm thats nice”
“Dean do you wanna go out tonight? We haven’t been out in months and i wa-”
“Not now Y/N! Can’t you see I am busy?”
What now? I just can't figure it out
What now? I guess I'll just wait it out
What now? Ohhhh what now?
I found the one he changed my life
But was it me that changed
And he just happened to come at the right time
I'm supposed to be in love
But I'm not mugging
“Hey Y/N you haven’t talked to anyone in a few weeks, are you ok?”
“Yea Zi I’ll be fine I just need some time”
“Does time include me coming over with your favorite movie and treat?”
Whatever it is, it feels like it's laughing at me through the gla** of a two-sided mirror
Whatever it is, it's just sitting there laughing at me
And I just wanna scream
I locked eyes with Dean in this moment. But I continued on strong, never hesitating. I let my eyes and voice carry my story along each note. I poured out all that I had held in for so long.
There's no one to call cause I'm just playing games with them all
The more I swear I'm happy, the more that I'm feeling alone
'Cause I spent every hour just going through the motions
I cant even get the emotions to come out
Dry as a bone, but I just wanna shout
What now? I just can't figure it out
What now? I guess I'll just wait it out
What now? Somebody tell me
What now?
I don't know where to go
I don't know what to feel
I don't know how to cry
I don't know ow ow why
I don't know where to go
I don't know what to feel
I don't know how to cry
I don't know ow ow why
I don't know where to go
I don't know what to feel
I don't know how to cry
I don't know ow ow why
So what now?
I finished up my performance and switched to one of my more upbeat originals. It was actually a song about love and friendship and I danced along the stage with all the energy I could manage. I even ripped of the train of the dress that trailed behind me in a dramatic flourish. In this moment I was like a phoenix. In this moment I was strong and reborn. I had come so far and I wasn’t about to stop. I passed Dean after my performance. He was on his way up to announce the next set of awards but he stopped in front of me and opened his mouth to say something to me first.
“You really were something out there Y/N.”, he said with a wry smile but then turned to glare, “does everything you do have to be about me?”
If I wasn’t feeling so bold my mouth would’ve dropped. Instead I straightened my back, folded my arms, and looked him dead in the eye.
“You know Dean I get the feeling you are threatened by me. You said before I would never be anything without you and yet here I am proving you wrong. Nothing is about you anymore and you can’t stand it can you? Now you see how much better off I am without you. How talented and truly amazing I am. And how cowardly you really are.”
“You make it out like I was really that bad to you. This is what it’s like when you are famous. You’ll see Y/N”
“No I won’t. Because I am not you. And I will never do what you did to me to Zi. He loves me and I love him and we go miles for each other. And you run from girl to girl, never satisfied, and always lonely. You said you forgot about missing me? Said you didn’t have time to think about me. Even though you knew all I thought about was you? Well Kwon I have one final question for you.”, I shifted on my leg and cocked a hip, narrowing my eyes at him. “What now?”
#kwon hyuk#deantrbl#deaninfluenza#DEAN#khiphop#imagines#scenarios#fan fiction#kwon hyuk fan fiction#kwon hyuk scenarios#kwon hyuk imagines#deantrbl fan fiction#deantrbl imagines#deantrbl scenarios#deaninfluenza fan fiction#deaninfluenza scenarios#deaninfluenza imagines#DEAN fanfiction#DEAN scenarios#DEAN imagines#khiphop fan fictions#khiphop scenarios#khiphop imagines#Zico#Zico imagines#zico fanfiction#zico scenarios
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Wizard’s Naruto Headcannons
I’ve shared a couple of these with other people, but anyways, here’s several of my personal Headcannons for the Naruto Series that I either haven’t seen someone use yet or is barely used at all. If you see one you want to add to a fic or use, go for it (maybe send me a message b/c I wanna read it too damn it XD) Enjoy!
1.) Tenzo wears that helmet thing to cover up the scars from Orochimaru’s experiments
2.) Tora the Cat is actually a Summoned Cat belonging to one of the Fire Daimyo’s Ninja Guards and is constantly shirking his duty of watching over the Daimyo’s wife.
3.) Orochimaru is bigender/genderfluid
4.) Naruto spends a majority of his early life as a ninja thinking “What Would Iruka-Sensei Do/Think?” and if he can’t decide, it turns into “What Would Jiji Tell Me To Do?”
5.) Kakashi literally never lies about why he’s late, he just happens to know where to go looking because he’s following Obito’s regular paths. However, whenever he uses the excuse “Lost on the Road to Life”, he’s 50% of the time with the Hokage, and 50% of the time at the Memorial Stone.
6.) Kisame used to love eating sushi but now refuses because of all the puns on his looks.
7.) The Hoshigaki Clan created Samehada way back whenever.
8.) Ramen is actually Kurama/Kyubi’s favorite food but he refuses to admit it because then his Jailers would have something to “Bond” with him over.
9.) Sasuke is actually really good at Calligraphy but hates it because Itachi taught him and his handwriting is hella feminine.
10.) Naruto learned to swim by watching the girls Jiraiya peeped on during the Time Skip.
11.) Gai’s favorite color is actually black but every time he’d wear green when they were younger, Kakashi would twitch, so he wears the Jumpsuit to constantly fuck with his bestie (And the rest of the world)
12.) Kiba had a crush on Sakura back when she was quiet and shy Pre-Ino but was too shy to tell her, and then he grew out of it when she grew into the loud, bratty girl we saw at the very beginning. He’s gotta thing for the quiet, kind ones.
13.) Yugito Nii was predisposed to liking cats well before she became the Jinchuriki for one, and would have become the next Neko-baa upon reaching old age.
14.) Killer B’s brother A is actually a Really Good Rapper but refuses to do so because he doesn’t want to hurt his brother’s feelings or encourage such behavior.
15.) Gaara’s favorite color started out as red but after becoming Kazekage it became orange.
16.) Hidan became a Jashinist because his parents told him “You can be anything you want to be... Except that” and he’s always been a little shit.
17.) Anko adores Traditional Tea Ceremonies.
18.) The Aburame Clan wear the outfits they do because the Kikaichu in their bodies raises the sensitivity of their skin, so keeping themselves covered in soft, loose clothing is a defensive measure.
19.) Kakashi’s biggest regret (just barely ahead of Obito’s ‘death’) is that the last words he ever said to his father was “It’s your fault.”
20.) Ino is allergic to cats and absolutely refuses to let her team do the Capture Tora Mission, no matter what other one they have to do instead (Even if it’s Shovel Manure or something)
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