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sanguineterrain · 8 months

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Hey I saw you're still taking requests... what about a batman x reader where the justice league meets his wife (the reader) by accident? And maybe they're shocked because he's so secretive and she's really sweet and just the total opposite of him. Feel free to ignore if this doesn't sound interesting to you. I love your writing 💗

Hey! I love this prompt, thanks for sending it in :) I made the reader gender neutral, I hope that's okay!

Bruce Wayne x spouse!gn!reader. No warnings, just Bruce being a little shit (and a sweet hubby).

****

You press your palm to the reader at the entrance of the Cave and jog down the stairs, talking all the way.

"Honey, Alfred and I are going to..."

Six superhero faces stare back at you. Bruce is in the cowl, expression hard to parse. Your brows rise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know B had company. I'll leave you to it," you say, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Green Lantern. You can't tell through the mask lenses, but you think he might be zeroed in on the ring on your left hand. "Uh, Spooky? Something you wanna tell us?"

You freeze on the steps. Bruce looks at you, then crosses the Cave in a few long strides. He stops next to you.

Sorry, you mouth at him. He shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"Hold the fucking phone," Green Arrow begins. "You're his—"

"Partner," Wonder Woman says instantly. She sounds pensive. "I have never seen you look at anyone like that, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't say anything, not that you expect him to. You feel him tense.

He'd been content to keep his family as private as possible, and you hadn't minded being kept separate. You know it's out of extreme protectiveness and the fact that you're the only one of the Wayne family who doesn't put a suit on and fight crime.

There's a moment of silence as the League studies you, then Bruce. You smile slowly and wave.

"Hi, Justice League. Nice to meet you all."

"Hello," says the Martian Manhunter, who's probably known about you since you entered Wayne Manor.

"You got married without telling us?" Superman sounds hurt.

Bruce heaves a sigh.

"We got married during the League's infancy. Please spare me the theatrics. Of course I didn't tell you."

"We revealed our identities two years ago!" Superman argues. "You didn't want to mention you have a spouse?"

Superman nods at you then. "Uh, of course, it's still very nice to meet you."

You smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Superman."

"Clark," he corrects hastily. Then he turns to Bruce again, upset flaring. "Bruce—"

"You're upset over nothing," Bruce says. "We weren't close when I got married, and I never found it a pertinent detail."

You roll your eyes.

"B," you say, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon. Try to be a little gentler about this, hm?"

Bruce looks at you. You smile at him and squeeze his wrist encouragingly. He eventually turns back to the League.

"Very well, you're right. Clark, that was harsh of me. My apologies."

The League startles.

"Whoa. Rewind. Hold up. Did Spooky just apologize?" Green Lantern asks. "Did I just get zeta'd?"

Bruce sighs. You stifle a laugh and kiss his bicep. His hand slips to your back.

"Aw, you guys are cute," Flash says jovially. "Congrats, B! Even if it's been almost six years."

Bruce nods. "Thank you, Allen."

"It is incredible how the better half can transform the other," says Wonder Woman, and you preen a little at the compliment.

Clark looks flabbergasted. It takes him a second to speak again.

"Um. That's... okay, Bruce. I forgive you. I suppose you did it out of protection, right?"

"I'm just a boring ol' civilian," you say, nodding. "No powers or years of Krav Maga training here. B worries."

"You're not boring," Bruce says fiercely, quiet enough for only you to hear... and Clark, who has superhearing, and who softens at the statement.

"This is so weird," Green Lantern says, and Bruce glares at him.

"I mean, it's sweet!" he hastily adds. "Uh, you guys are very sweet together, like Bar said. I just feel like I've been mind controlled or something."

"If it was mind control, you wouldn't still be talking," Bruce says flatly.

"Okay, alright, point taken. Shutting up. It's very nice to meet you, though," Green Lantern says to you.

"You as well," you say warmly. "All of you. I want to thank you for looking out for him all these years and bringing him home safe."

Wonder Woman smiles at you. "It is a great honor to fight alongside him. And we are happy he has someone to come home to."

"Seconded," Clark says. "You deserve someone special, B. And I can tell they're just that."

Your face feels warm under all the praise. Bruce is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, there's a slight tremor in his voice.

"Thank you. I—they are the best thing to ever happen to me."

You have to kiss Bruce for that, cowl be damned. He meets you gently, and you keep it short but full of love. Flash aww's.

"Well," you say, laughing bashfully. "I suppose I'll let you all get back to work. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. Bruce, I'm going out with Alfred."

Bruce nods. "Call me when you get home."

"'Course, sweetheart. I always do."

You head up the stairs. Flash starts to speak.

"Y'know, I told you all when I got married," he says. "You guys were the first people I told! We didn't even know Clark's identity then. I think you could've loosened the reins, Bruce."

"Yeah, no. You telling a bunch of superhero co-workers is infinitely stranger than Bruce never telling us, Bar."

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x gender neutral reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x you #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #batman x yn #inbox #blurb

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ravenna-reid · 4 months

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Pretty Pretty Eyes

JASONTODD x FEM!VIGILANTE!READER

Summary - Jason had seen you around for months now but never managed to get to talk to you for more than a few seconds. Telling himself he had to investigate what the hell you were doing for Gotham's safety (yep, ok Jason) he makes a plan to stop you from disappearing one night. (Part of the scene inspired by the image in the middle) Enjoy!!

Warnings - Swearing and some violence, maybe like one suggestive line

Jason didn’t know why he felt this way, but he was intrigued by your reactions to everything. Or more accurately, your lack of. He was used to others narrowing their eyes at him, cussing him out, or even trying to throw a punch whenever he said something out of line. But that never happened with you. He was lucky to even get a puzzled frown and “Mm” from you. Then after that, you would disappear before he could even ask you any questions.

Slick as a whistle and as silent as a ghost. You seemed to always be where trouble followed, and when Jason got to the scene, you weren’t exactly helping the bad guys, but you weren’t exactly stopping them either. Were you a villain? A threat? Were you an ally? He didn’t know, because no matter how hard Jason tried, he could never find a trace on you either. And he’d be damned if he asked Bruce or Dick for help. It ate away at him if he was being honest.

However, tonight would be the night Jason would finally get his answers. Because he’d found you where he’d least expected to find you. On the top floor of a large building that displayed and sold art. What were you doing? He had no idea. All he knew was that he had to get you this time.

Once you’d heard his “subtle” footsteps and caught the gleam of his helmet from the corner of the room, you were on the move. Your speciality was slipping away unnoticed, and it worked every time. But Jason came prepared. Gun already raised, he shot something he’d spent weeks making in the Batcave, much to Bruce’s curiosity. A small, vibrant thing shot across the room like lightning and hit you right in the back. You stumbled, then quickly stopped to look behind you. You didn’t feel the agonising pain that came from a bullet wound. And when you looked down, you just couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Bright, neon yellow dust all over the back of your shirt. Now you had no chance of disappearing into the shadows. This man was actually ridiculous. But it was all he had since he’d run out of trackers. Much to your dismay, all you could do was shake your head at the situation and sprint.

As you threw the door closest to you open, you ran across the roof of the tall building. The cool breeze whipped against your skin. It ran through your hair as you leapt over ladders maintenance men had left behind and roof turbines. Jason followed close behind. And as he grew closer, he grabbed small metal gadgets with his gloved hand from his belt and threw them. Small explosions went off as they hit the ground, releasing thick smoke in front of you. You went to run to the side until you realised you were at the edge. Fuck.

Jason’s arm grabbed at your waist as he tried to pull you back, but you smacked him with your elbow. Using the momentum and grabbing hold of one of his arms, you then swung around behind him and swiftly uncurled the rope that was attached to your belt. Wrapping it around his legs caught Jason off guard given how quickly you moved, and soon Jason dropped down on one knee. You moved the rope up from his leg to around his neck and pulled back. But he managed to escape, grabbing the rope from your grip and tossing it off the building. Once Jason turned to you he paused, breath heavy, and waited for you to give up. Waited for you to realise he just wanted to talk. But you weren’t one to pause during a fight. “Now listen.” He said, hands raised.

Using a manoeuvre you learnt in Krav Maga many moons ago, you swiftly got the Red Hood on his back, and he had hit the ground like a tonne of bricks. Whilst he was down, you slipped one of your favourite daggers into the palm of your hand and closed the space between you two. Pinning one of his freakishly large arms down with your knee, you now had the dagger at his throat. Jason instantly came to a halt as the cool blade sat comfortably on his skin. A single jarring movement would draw blood, and all he could do was look up at you through his helmet. Both of your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths. The black mask he always saw you in covered your nose down to your chin, but Jason could see that focused glint pass through your eyes.

First the rope, now a blade at his throat?

“You have a thing for necks, huh?” He joked.

You ignored what he’d said. Like always.

Really, you were just trying to ignore the soft, musky scent that made its way to your nose…

The night went on around you as you tightened your hold on Jason. Being pinned to the ground so easily made him feel overwhelmingly agitated. Pissed off.

Impressed?

Leaning over him - both of your masked faces so close - you were about to say something (scold the living shit out of him) until you heard a click.

Your head instinctively looked down. Given you had one of his arms pinned, you didn’t think of the other one, hoping the knife to the throat and him being beneath you would be enough to restrain the Red Hood. But now as you looked down to where the sound came from, you saw one of Jason’s loaded glocks, the cool steel gently pressed against the skin on your waist. Your body stilled as a simmering anger washed over you. What a compromising position.

“And you were so close to getting away, weren’t you?” Jason murmured, a hidden smirk plastered across his face.

You dragged your eyes back to him, and although your mask was covering half of your face he could still see the foul expression you were giving him. Hell, it was as though he could feel it.

“Why won’t you just give up?” You asked, voice muffled.

Jason was stunned. It was the first time he’d heard your voice. It was warm. Smooth. So…

What the hell was he thinking?

“It’s my job to make sure this city is safe, Princess. Gotta keep track of those that are running around in masks –”

“What? You think I’m some bastard who’s conspiring with drug lords or something?” You asked cooly.

“If you’re not guilty, why do you keep running away?”

“Why do you care?”

Jason could feel your muscles tensen. The dagger that still sat at his throat shifted closer. He quickly reminded you of the gun that was still pointed to your waist.

“Easy now.” The words fell from his lips as though they were a lull.

Silence settled over you both as you stared at each other. A faint beating thrummed in your heart. Jason’s blood was rushing. You leant down even closer, and Jason swore he could feel your breath on his skin.

“You ruined my shirt.”

He smiled.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to make it up to you, aren’t I? Once you tell me who you are.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Mm.”

Then, as you moved your arm back so that your elbow could knock the black cylinder from your opened pouch, the canister dropped to the floor and rolled over beside Jason’s head before exploding. Quickly dragging your body off of him, you slipped your dagger back in its place and leapt down onto a balcony beside the building you were on. As you fled the scene, your head reeled from the events of the night.

So much for a ruthless vigilante you thought to yourself, a warm smile forcing its way onto your face.

Getting to his feet and wiping the soot like substance from his helmet, he searched for you across the rooftop. But he knew better. You were nowhere to be found. A defeated sigh left Jason as his shoulders dropped, but even with his loss, all Jason could think about were your eyes. Those pretty pretty eyes.

“Until next time.”

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x vigilante reader #jason todd angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #angst #red hood angst

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ashanimus · 1 year

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On Hunter's Fighting Style and Eclipse Lake

So: Hunter and fighting. Thank you @carpisuns for enabling me.

What he does is he sets up a guard position, and immediately tries to move to an enemy’s blind spot. He would have learned that to compensate around a casting opponent before he had magic--his only hope without a magical staff would be “defend defend defend” and get close enough to break their guard. The goal is a decisive blow to the head or neck to end combat. The priority is staying up because if he’s pinned or disarmed, he’s screwed.

The ability to teleport means that he starts in a strong defensive position and basically gets a sneak attack, rinse/repeat/adapt. Generally speaking he has to end fights as fast as possible, and given that he trained without magic his whole strategy is built around DEFEND first, decisive strike, DEFLECT magical force (a stick can't hope to counter it without magic). We also see a little bit of this implied training with his parkour abilities. Without the ability to fly, or the ability to summon plants to carry him to his destination, he would've had to learn all of this physically. Let's dig into some of the details of how this separates Hunter from most of his opponents. Let's talk about FIGHTING!

Most witches take their magic purely for granted. Because of this, it is likely uncommon for people to turn their own bodies into extremely efficient machines like how martial artists or athletes are required to. In their own way, these skills are generally probably pretty impressive to the average witch outside of combat — and within it they're surprising at least for the first few seconds. And in combat, seconds are really what matter. Most actual fights are over in less than 10. And one of the things that separates a trained fighter from a casual brawler or the average person defending themselves is the conditioning it takes to actually respond in time.

Most people don't respond to fight stimuli by fighting. Most people go into freeze or flight. When it comes to serious fight training, one of the first things that happens is called conditioning. For sports that means getting the body into a particular kind of well, condition — but for combat the conditioning is also mental. If you've seen stereotypes of things like Army boot camp where the drill sergeant is yelling at people and slinging abuse constantly, that's actually part of it. I am reliably told they try not to do this as much anymore. But if you're doing something like Krav Maga which is more or less brutal streetfighting but formalized in a dojo environment that is absolutely part of the training (or at least, it was part of mine!).

Specifically, when you're learning the throw punch or doing a series of them, what they will have us do is scream and swear at our opponents (and they will sometimes scream and swear at us during spars or drills) in order to condition our minds as well as our bodies for the ugliness of an actual violent confrontation. Yelling, intimidation, insults, swears those are all part of the human "puff up and look big" thing. The other thing about conditioning in this way is the instructor teaching someone how to be hit and actually hit back. As I said before, most people tend to sink into freeze or flight. The average person who has not been trained needs to be hit an average of six times before they're able to summon up the nerve to strike back. By then, the confrontation is almost always over.

The reason I outline all of this is because it highlights the conditioning gulf between Hunter and the others, as well as trying to explain how he’d be approaching most enemies and WHY. Speed and dexterity is obviously critical, but the approach matters immensely as well.

This is especially true when you have a combatant like Hunter who is starting from a punishing disadvantage against the vast majority of his casting opponents. Without magic, the only weapon he has is his body. When you train on a weapon, that weapon becomes an extension of your body. As such, a critical part of this kind of training is gaining an awareness of the body in order to hone in mind-to-muscle control. Martial artists, dancers, etc have a scary amount of precise control in this way, not that much different than an excellent musician who understands their hands and the intimate ins and outs of their instrument. Developing awareness, control and practice is what creates reliable muscle memory. This more than anything is Hunter’s (and any martial artists tbh) superpower.

Witch's magic is shown to be driven by emotions, thoughts and feelings.

This gives them the benefit of reflexes helping them out in the face of sudden danger, but nobody is invulnerable to the sudden appearance of somebody inside their personal bubble hitting them in the temple with a really big stick. If Hunter is on target and playing for keeps the confrontations is over, witches duel: won. Even without magic.

Once Hunter has access to magic, his muscle memory is the same, with added oomph and a battle style combat-ready witches would be baffled by. Brawlers would be exceedingly rare on the BI except for niche sports and probably those highly unusual witches and demons who practice a form of magical martial arts. One or more of these unusual individuals would have helped train him (someone had to and Belos seems like he’d move like a broken ikea chair on his best day when he’s not a bone-rotted goop monster). Likely more. Hunter was obviously not allowed to get close to any teachers (I would expect that they were under strict orders to stay distant or otherwise motivated).

So most of this is context to kind of the depth I saw and how Hunter's fighting movements are animated, but now let me go into how his actual personality and emotional conflicts affect his ability to fight.

Over the course of the show, we can see a pretty direct correlation of his emotional state and priorities to his efficacy and fight. Basically, when his goal is directly aligned with how he feels about it, he’s very good. But when those things have conflict, his effectiveness goes down. When we first meet him as the GG, he is very intimidating and using heavy amounts of magic from the staff Belos gave him. He rolls easily through his first encounter with Luz, etc etc. And even though neither Eda or Luz are capable of putting up too much of a fight, he's goofing around for the entirety of that encounter, you can hear the smile even while he's dodging — and it's one of easy confidence. He can trust his body to do most of that pretty much automatically which frees him up to pontificate.

Against Kikimora he was effective because despite the fact he was self-sabotaging his mission, it was within his moral alignment. He was defending himself, but Luz had moved him, and he protected her. Protecting, generally speaking, his Hunter’s preference and his entire fighting style is based mostly on defensive forms. And being by nature a gentle person, defense feels better — especially when he knew Luz was doing the right thing in protecting the Palismen. It was one of the instances that we see where his intelligence was able to overcome his brainwashing long enough to act on it, and the Avenue was Luz's respect and kindness. That being said, fighting Kikimora was more of a struggle or at the very least a more even contest. Even debilitated by the sleeping nettles, Kikimora was not a pushover and he did end up letting his guard down pretty significantly and that she did get the first hit on him, distracted as he was by his emotional moment with Luz. The giving of the name was an explicit show of vulnerability that was immediately exploited by an opponent who if she had aimed slightly to the left would've caved his skull in.

Now, Eclipse Lake is a little more interesting. There were a ton of factors that led to him fighting to a standstill with Amity. I wouldn't really call it a loss either, but I'll get into that in just a second.

Hunter is at this point fueled by anxiety. He started the entire endeavor by deliberately disobeying a direct order from the mouth of the Emperor to try and make up for a recent failure that Belos has let Hunter believe is affecting his favor. Already that's an unbelievably emotional place with incredibly high stakes. At this point, we're well aware of the fact that Belos treats Hunter brutally. The best case scenario for returning empty-handed after disobeying a direct order is a beating that would probably leave him with more scars than he started, but what Hunter actually fears is being replaced. While at this stage he doesn't regard his life as something that necessarily belongs to him, but the successful outcome of this might as well be life-and-death.

Deliberately disobeying the Emperor does actually have a material impact on how Hunter arrives at the Knee. Because this is a stealth mission, he wasn’t able to bring his mechanical staff--the thing that would give him away to Kikimora. Flapjack had not fully become his palisman yet. Which means that Hunter hiked up that mountain after Kikimora and her party, navigating waist deep snow knowing that if he was caught she would kill him. He also knows that she is currently surrounded by her partisans, and it is super unlikely that any of them would stick up for him in a way that would put them at odds with her. With no support, no ability to take a break and probably no rations he was probably pretty hungry, tired and dehydrated by the time Eda and Amity had made it up there. And they had the benefit of being able to fly. That's one thing I don't see people talking about enough when it comes to considering the relative strength of Amity and Hunter. The little rag-eared bastard had already had a very very long and physically arduous and miserable day, maybe even more than one!.

He also bit off more than he could reasonably chew with those disadvantages in mind. He only has to make one mistake and he’s toast. He didn’t account for Flapjack dragging him to Eda and Amity’s feet. As far as he knew, they could have really hurt him, or left him--having no guarantee or even expectation of Flapjack’s assistance. But none of this changes the fact that Hunter spends the next couple of hours tied up. Amity wasn't gentle (why would she be?). We see him rubbing his wrists and stretching his shoulders out once he is free.

Cartoons often don't make anything of this gesture, but the truth of it is this: if you been bound for any length of time, especially in the position that Hunter was, what it does is it yanks on your shoulders, your chest, it hurts the hell out of your elbows and you lose feeling in your hands. The minute you’re released, all the blood goes back into those areas and it hurts like hell. IT REALLY HURTS. And you're stiff.

Which finally brings us back to the actual confrontation between Amity and Hunter. Hunter has experienced incredible emotional highs and lows over the course of this journey. There were probably at least three or four times where he was almost killed. He is tired as hell, frozen stiff, probably in pain, almost certainly hasn't eaten or had anything to drink for a very inappropriate amount of time and he has no weapon. He's also on the brink of despair and crackup. And his mission? At this point, he’s staring down the barrel of guaranteed failure. When Amity is talking to him and trying to comfort him, he is so up a creek that for a moment he actually is hearing what she has to say. Given the depth of his devotion to Belos at this point that is saying a lot about how he feels about his prospects at the moment.

So when he sees the key, he attacks her out of desperation. Pure emotion. He has to at least try. There is no scenario where an unarmed combatant can wrestle the armed abomination prodigy with auxiliary support. Then Flapjack joins the fight, and that changes everything. You can see it in how his expression changes once he takes what's offered: magical aid. Suddenly he has a fighting chance. A fighting chance.

However, he is now using a weapon he's never used before — and I think that has a huge impact on how that fight went. Palismen are shown to respond to their wielder's thoughts. Later, in ASIAS, we can even see Flapjack responding to Hunter's mind when he's doing all the staff tricks to impress the students. This leads me to believe that wielding a Palisman staff is less like swinging an inert stick and more like moving a limb. And when your entire fighting style depends on knowing exactly where your own center of mass is at absolutely all times, that would change Hunter's balance, and throw his timing and physicality off.

All things considered, given the unbelievable disadvantage that Hunter started with, I kind of wish the fandom gave him more credit. With his emotions in absolute tatters in addition to being a physical disaster and using a new weapon, he is absolutely at his worst here! Amity is fighting from a position of knowing she has backup coming in addition to the backup she already has in King. Even then, she's fighting to get away from him. And Hunter, in addition to using a new tool and all of the aforementioned problems is going full out on the attack-- which is very contrary to how he prefers to fight. When you go this feral into a combat, the emotional place itself is a disadvantage.

And even after all that? Amity didn't beat him. They fought to a standstill.

She has a blade to his throat, he had Flapjack on her hand. With Flapjack in his possession, if for any reason she tried to open his throat he would still have the option of flash stepping away. She might have cut his neck enough to bleed, but not enough to kill him instantly. In holding the way she did, she missed her chance at a fatal opening (and she's never killed anyone before. Interpretation is out for Hunter, I generally don't headcannon him as ever having killed directly with his own hands although I do think he's done some real damage).

He says to her, "Listen. You're strong, and I'm tired. If this continues, you'll probably escape. But here's the thing: we know where to find you--and your human."

The first part of that statement has way less to do with Amity's training or skill as an equal to Hunter's (she clearly has a little, but if you're as good as Hunter is at his age, you would've started at around three years old and that probably was not the case for Amity), and more a statement of the fact that Hunter is actually physically exhausted and there is the slight possibility that Amity might be able to outlast him in terms of endurance. But what I think is a lot more pertinent is the reality that Hunter has an incredibly small window of time to achieve victory before Eda the HARPY OWL LADY comes flying through that tunnel to beat his already exhausted ass.

He also says: "If this CONTINUES". And he even says probably. He's incredibly fucking tough at least in terms of what he's capable of enduring before he falls down and can't get up.

If Eda did come through to help Amity, the best case scenario for Hunter at that point is they leave him senseless or in too rough of a shape to escape from Kikimora. Kikimora openly despises him, is extremely petty/cruel, and is surrounded by her own partisans (who have demonstrable willingness to murder teenagers!). She screeched about how excited she was about exacting revenge (and unbeknownst to Hunter she absolutely knows how disposable he is in the grand scheme of things!).

She’s a lot more interested in Hunter’s blood than Titan’s blood at the moment. Hunter would die BADLY and slowly at her little claws if she got him.

So he tries a last-ditch measure by leveling a threat Amity that he couldn’t hope to carry out even if he wanted to. It's ironic that the only reason that they were both able to achieve a partial victory here is because Hunter was able to effectively empathize with her enough to see his own vulnerability in her and squeeze it.

To all that stuff about how his emotions affect his ability to battle, if we look at what happened on the day of unity, at that stage he was still unable to confront his abuser and would-be murderer. He did not strike Belos once, and spent the whole time playing defense on behalf of his friends, taking up a defensive position and otherwise moving them out of harm's way. He's in the process of actively dying and his right (dominant) arm is paralyzed, so his form is pretty crap but this speaks to his iron will to stay breathing for as long as he can. And he's lasted a lot longer than the most affected adults. The lack of a bile sac probably comes into it a bit...but it's not the only factor here.

So yeah! I hope that this provides a little bit more nuance to the conversation! And again, thank you to the animators and storyboarders for taking such time and care for portraying Hunter’s fighting with respect to his personality and arc.

For anyone interested in my meta and analysis, please check out the "ash's owl house meta" tag on this blog and/or follow @idlescree for my video essays! We have more in the works coming soon :)

Tags for those who requested tags!

@skyelights-xox @rainbowangel110 @bookworm010307

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #hunter noceda #amity blight #the owl house meta #the owl house analysis #ash's owl house meta #idlescree

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tj-crochets · 1 year

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What plushie should I make next? I feel like designing a plushie pattern but idk what to make

#the person behind the yarn #well really I have a strong urge to go use my punching bag #what's the verb for that? boxing???#but I don't box that's not the style I learned #maybe kickboxing???? technically I did learn that first because my mom used to teach kickboxing #but the martial arts style I learned was Krav Maga and that doesn't really verb well #anyway I want to do that but I am having a 'resting heart rate is in the moderate level exercise zone' so I can't #so...plushies! thinking about plushies #considering their techniques #I have started buying plushies instead of only owning ones made by me (and a few made by my friends)#because I like plushies and also because I am learning construction techniques from looking at them

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 11 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁*𝐓𝐂𝐇 (𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐑𝐀)

; 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒.

summary: killing kim myeong-gil would bring many people satisfaction. as hyeon-ju, gun-woo, woo-jin and the others begin to plan on how to do it, choi knows that there's someone in seoul who would take part in it with much pleasure.

wordcount: 3.348k (i got a little bit excited, the other chapters gonna be shorter don't worry)

tw: swearing, almost-fighting, so just plain bloodhounds-things (i update this section with every new part of the story)

author's note: i watched the k-drama in one day, it's wonderful. a little explaining for the "y/h/c", i wrote it with creme-blonde haired character so i'd recommend some extreme or light color. other than that, it's free for every hair color!!

in the burger shop, the pregnant silence after gun-woo's confession about the loan and his mother's café shop was broken by the arrived burgers, brought by woo-jin. hyeon-ju's face became hard again.

"as you heard, my grandpa is no longer a loan-shark. he provides zero-interest loans to people in need. but we occasionally come across punks who try to take advantage of his good heart. yang jae-myeong was one of them. he lied about his mother needing to get an operation. he borrowed ten million won and vanished. it took me half a year to track him down. i saw him begging in front of a train station. at first, I thought he had really become homeless, but i noticed how clean his teeth were as I was passing by. so i tailed him, I found out that he and his goons were pretending to be homeless and stealing IDs from actual homeless people. they use the IDs to create shell corporations and open bank accounts. then they con loan sharks and take out loans anywhere from tens to hundreds of millions of won. this tactic was so professional, we thought there could be someone behind yang jae-myeong. i heard that this person had connections to yang jae-myeong. do you know him?"

after the photo was shown, they talked about how to follow yang jam-myeong's gang, but before the trio stood up from the table, hyeon-ju nodded to the guys to stay sit. digging into her jacket's pocket, she took out a piece of paper that seemed to be like a photo.

"before you begin stalking the gang, i want you to find this girl. i didn't have the time to talk to her, since i was searching for yang jae-myeong, but now i want you two to talk to this girl. gun-woo, tell her about the loans your mom signed and what happened after. she's hard-headed and kind of keeping to herself."

"fine, but who's she?" woo-jin asked, as gun-woo looked at the picture. long y/h/c hair, the mask was on her face, but she had wide, clear speaking eyes. ones like woo-jin's, the ones you look in and can read from them without a loud word.

"she's y/n. i heard my grandpa talk about him on the phone, this was the only picture i could get about her. she doesn't have instagram, facebook or any of these apps, i took this from my grandpa's office. it's possible that she won't open up to you, but it's a must to talk to her."

"yeah, i get it. but why do you want us to find her?" gun-woo was also interested about this question. was she an enemy? young kids can also be stolen by criminals and raised by them, to be as loyal as a dog can to do anything for theirs.

"y/n is good, don't worry. as far as i know from what my grandpa said on the phone, she is someone whose parents were close to my grandpa. she followed her father's track and trained herself in the most brutalist martial arts, like the israelite krav maga, the russian systema or muay thai."

"aisssh, i wouldn't want to confront her in any way", woo-jin said. gun-woo thought about these fights; he only saw muay thai on tv, and that seemed really dangerous in itself. he knew that as soon as they begin to track the girl, he's gonna search up the other two martial arts on his phone.

"yeah, me neither" gun-woo added.

"will you two do? and asking for her phone number?" hyeon-ju asked, the guys nodded.

"yes, of course. but i'll bring a white flag just in case", woo-jin answered as they stood up from the table.

a few hours later, gun-woo and woo-jin were on the streets, wandering around buildings.

"fuck, how can we find someone in a town where nearly ten million people lives?" woo-jin asked. gun-woo looked at the picture.

“hyeon-ju said that she’s a pro in martial arts. maybe we should look in the gyms?”

woo-jin patted his chest, “look, a real genius here.”

going to every gym around the town, gun-woo and woo-jin began to lose hope.

“maybe she’s working today or just doesn't feel like coming down to train.” gun-woo began to think about what to tell hyeon-ju if they don’t find the girl. she sure will be pissed or angry, but this is a really difficult task.

“aish, gun-woo, don’t be like that! would you say something like this? people like us, people who train daily, their safe place is the gym. feeling sad? go to the gym! feeling happy? go to the gym! did your date went well? go to the gym! you just broke up with your girlfriend? go to the gym! look, for every problem, there’s a solution, and the solution is called–”

as woo-jin talked and talked, gun-woo thought he’s hallucinating. on the other side of the crosswalk, a girl tapped on her phone. same (y/h/c) hair, same (e/c) eyes, the same way she dipped her shoulder as she looked behind her, even the black sweater was the same. she wasn’t tall, the arms of her sweater weren't puffed from muscles. maybe she isn’t y/n, but they can try.

“woo-jin, look. do you think that is her? y/n?” he asked, cutting off his friend. woo-jin looked at the picture, than at the girl, than at the picture again, and the girl again.

“honestly, how could we know if we don’t ask her?” woo-jin smiled, just as he always does when he’s in some doubtful situation. they began to walk behind the girl. she wore earphones. woo-jin went to tap her shoulder, but when he touched her shoulder, the girl turned around, grabbing woo-jin’s wrist to keep him still so she could punch him in the face, gun-woo hurried to stand beside woo-jin. the girl took out the earphones with her free hand.

“what the fuck do you want from me?” she asked, looking up from under her eyebrows, looking from one second to another at each of them, like she waited for some attack. she really was a pro, gun-woo said to himself. gun-woo had to admit that she was quite pretty. not like pretty girls from clubs or his high school and university, or the nurses at the marine, but some pretty girl that his mother would like to date him. he bent deep down.

“we are sorry to disturb you, but we have a question. we don’t mean harm, we don’t intend to hurt you” he said fast, and the girl let go woo-jin after looking at the guy, and making sure he nodded. the girl turned, pointing to one of the restaurants.

“can we talk while i eat? i just came out from training, i’m starving.” woo-jin and gun-woo nodded, following the girl.

“so, what did you want to ask?” the girl began eating. woo-jin looked at gun-woo, who watched her dainty fingers grabbing the utensils. he sighed and took out the photo, placing it down to the table so the girl could see, she stopped eating instantly. pulling up her eyebrows, she distanced from the table a little bit. before any of the guys could talk, the girl began to speak fast and stark. “are you from the police? the secret service or some fucking spy-bullshit? what the fuck do you want from me? it doesn’t matter, i shouldn't talk to any of you, i’m not gonna do this shit. how did you get this photo of me?” gun-woo wanted to talk, but the anger in her eyes made his mouth shut. “doesn't matter, i hope i'll never see you again.” she began to pick up her things. gun-woo thought about hyeon-ju, sir choi, her mother, and the ugliest guy that beat him up that night in the coffee shop.

“we just want to ask you about your name,” he spoke clear. “we’re just curious if you’re y/n or not. anyway, my name is gun-woo, and he’s woo-jin.”

“yeah, why? you probably know this because you have every information about me.” she replied, her chest rising and falling a little bit faster than usual.

“no, we don’t. we… so, well… we know a man who’s name is sir choi. and her granddaughter… her granddaughter told us to meet you.”

y/n looked around herself, like checking if someone else was there as a spy or some third wheeler, but when everybody was lazily chomping down on their dinner, being on their phone with some boring video or tweet, she slowly sat back down. sir choi’s name moved something in her, because she leaned closer to the guys.

“if that’s what about i think it is about, then this is some serious shit. really, maybe the most serious shit in seoul’s money and business history, so if you truly mean sir choi’s name, than i really recommend you two to turn around and walk away from all of this. understood?” gun-woo sighed.

“i think that i’m deeper in this than i wanted to”, he replied, the girl looked at him from under her lashes.

“what do you mean? is this about loans?” gun-woo nodded, the girl looked up to the ceiling, sighing, letting out a long whisper of swearings. “then we aren't talking about the price of my dinner, aren't we?”

“we don't talk about money, we talk about catching the men who are behind this.” woo-jin continued, y/n looked up at him, smiling sadly.

“i hope that you are alright in the head, so you can understand that this is nearly impossible.”

“it is not, believe us. we gonna find a man who’s in contact with them.” y/n sighed, looked to the side, looking at her phone.

“how can i trust you two? really, anyone can talk to me about this, anyone who took loans from the old man.” “we found this photo of you in sir choi’s office.”

“you two? how did you get into sir choi’s office? not even his closest people could get there.” gun-woo looked at woo-jin, sighing.

“well, not us, but his granddaughter. her name is hyeon-ju, we are her so-called bodyguards.”

“i don’t know anyone who’s name is hyeon-ju. so, summing up, not sir choi, but his granddaughter wants to talk to me? why?”

woo-jin looked at gun-woo. “can we talk a little bit?”

“sure.” y/n responded, turning back to her food. woo-jin gulped.

“should we tell her about the plan? yang jae-myeong? but what if hyeon-ju wants to tell her this?”

“i think she would understand it better if we told her. she doesn't know who we are, and sir choi’s name means something to her, but in this case, sir choi doesn't know about our mission.” woo-jin shrugged his shoulder, turning back to y/n.

“it’s about catching a man who’s in connection with the loan-sharks, and the one smile capital. since hyeon-ju told us to find you, we think that you’d be interested to catch these guys.”

“this is real, they have some repayments for me.” gun-woo somehow knew that this wasn't about money, but how could he ask when they knew each other for two hours?

“so, are you in it, or not?” woo-jin leaned forward, offering his hand for a handshake. y/n pointed up her forefinger.

“one talk. only one session with hyeon-ju, and then i decide whether i'm in or not.” she stated, woo-jin and gun-woo nodded, while they smiled lightly. looking at each other, they shared the ‘we made it’-look, making the girl scrunch her eyebrows. “okay then, where and when should we meet tomorrow? i guess this can't wait, if that’s so important that you found me.” y/n brushed her hair behind her ear, gun-woo didn’t miss the tattoos on her fingers, and the

“maybe… tomorrow at noon? here, in front of this restaurant.” gun-woo offered, the girl nodded.

“deal. see you guys tomorrow!” she said as she stood up, gun-woo stood up too. he didn't know why, he just felt that he needed to accompany the girl, no matter where she went home.

“wait, y/n!” the girl turned around, woo-jin looked at him like he had some shock or something. “where… where do you go home?”

‘to yongsan, and you?” she asked, gun-woo’s eyes lighted up.

“me too. would you mind if i… so, maybe we can go home together?” he asked, hoping that the girl wouldn't mind.

“yes, we can. goodbye, woo-jin!” she answered easily, bidding goodbye to the guy beside gun-woo. after she went out of the door, woo-jin began to lap gun-woo’s back.

“aye, gun-woo! did little y/n just trickle some love into your heart?” he asked grinning, gun-woo shook his head.

“no, it’s just… what if she gets into trouble at night? it’s dangerous.” gun-woo answered innocently, making woo-jin do a little ‘tsk’ in the corner of his mouth.

“by her grabbing on my wrist before he almost punched me to death, the one who needs protection is me!” woo-jin dramatized the situation, pointing at his wrist.

“she didn’t do anything, and she won’t again. she seems… peaceful.”

“yeah, well, stopped beating me because she found his prince.” woo-jin continued the teasing by adding some eyelash flutter that girls do when they find someone really handsome, making gun-woo roll his eyes. “okay, well, just go. and tell me everything when you get home. or… if you haul up at hers. or i hope that your house has thick walls and your mother doesn’t mind the constant whining noise!” he giggled, having fun. he could tease his friend forever, now that this girl was in the picture.

“woo-jin-ah! don’t do this!” gun-woo replied, making woo-jin laugh.

“okay, okay! have fun, and bring her too! don’t forget to ask for her phone number!”

“goodnight, woo-jin.”

stepping out into the chilly night air, y/n waited for him. they began to walk to the bus station. gun-wo thought about what he should ask from her. family? no, that's too personal, and they just met today. he wasn’t good with girl stuff, only had one girlfriend and she dumped him after two months, when he applied to the marine.

“so, since when do you box?” she asked, making gun-woo looking at her wondering.

“how… how did you know that i box?” y/n snapped with her tongue, looking at him. she had pretty eyes, and although her mask was on, she seemed like this was the easiest question in her entire life.

“when your friend grabbed my shoulder, his grip was firm, his palms are not too big, but they are strong. he lifted his other arm, just in case he needed to protect himself. i think i even saw your friend on the tv. you two are muscular, it can be seen from under jackets, but your legs’ aren't as muscular as your torso. in other martial arts, you need to train your legs too, to kick as strong as you can, but in boxing, you only use your arms. oh, and bodyguards are most of the time professional agents, but you two are young. or am i wrong?”

gun-woo didn’t know how to respond, he wanted to tell her how cool it was to deduce what they did, just from looking at them.

“no, you are right. and… hyeon-ju told us that you are a pro in many martial arts, so�� since when do you train?”

“since my childhood. it’s not that difficult, many movements and styles are similar.”

“did you fight competitively? like, in championships?”

y/n shook her head.

“no. only in gyms, i don’t like championships. you can get burned out easily. but i guess, since you asked that, you do championships. what is it like?”

gun-woo smiled under his mask. y/n was really cute as she asked about him. otherwise, maybe he could never tell her these things. he wasn’t a man of words, and only a few times he knew what to say.

“you would like it, really much. before covid, the arenas were filled with people, and the energies, the mood was really high and good.”

y/n hummed as they got on the bus, sitting beside each other. gun-woo protested that he should sit on the outer seat, and as y/n didn’t sense any dangers from him, she accepted and sat down.

“i hope that this hyeon-ju girl is cool, because i had some cat fights with others in the last weeks. girl fight in the gyms, you know.”

“cat fights? with girls?”

“yeah, but it wasn't so serious, i wondered where all the girls were, who'd ripped each other apart. a year ago, those fights were brutallic, like some freaking mma-cage fight, and now… at there, we say about these lazy gym-championships that there were no claws, but only strokes.”

gun-woo snickered.

“and these gym fights, do they pay well? or… do you work somewhere?”

the girl looked at him, scanning him from bottom to top while leaning to the glass window, leaning on her elbow, tilting her head. “you don’t look like a drinker, so i don’t think we would meet at my workplace.”

“you're a bartender? woo-jin would like this! he likes to drink, sometimes, always saying how good he can bear alcohol.”

y/n laughed.

“yeah, he looks like the typical tough guy who grew up on the bad side of the river, but when the two of you constantly looked at each other, i knew that he’s just as rookie as you.”

“yeah, that’s right. we began to work recently at sir choi, we are his granddaughter’s, hyeonju’s bodyguards. but she said she don’t need bodyguards.”

“but if she doesn’t need you, then how did you stay?”

gun-woo sighed.

“i… i begged for her to stay. i have a debt to work off to sir choi.”

“oh, so you work down the loan sir choi gave you, and this is the way you are affected personally by these loans?”

gun-woo thought about that night. when in-beom beat him up, when the boss threatened him not to call the police because his mother would end up dead, when he felt like he can’t do anything. looking at y/n, he didn’t want this girl to get involved in this business. gulping, gun-woo nodded.

“yeah. my mother too.”

“you work for your mother and her protection? you take life danger upon yourself so that she doesn't get hurt?” y/n asked, pulling together her eyebrows.

“we could say so.”

y/n sighed, looking forward, leaning back on the seat. looking at her hands, picking at the tattoos she had on her fingers. after a few seconds, she bent closer to gun-woo. she had dauntlessness and bravery in her eyes, without a blink of her eyelashes. her lashes were longer than usual, giving her the attitude on the outside as on the inside. pressing the get-off button of the bus, she gathered her bag in her lap.

“i understand it now. in this case, count me in, too.”

gun-woo looked at her.

“why? you doesn’t even know what is this about, this is serious danger, y/n.”

y/n shrugged her shoulders as gun-woo let her out from her seat, as they stood, y/n gave her a piece of paper.

“because it’s personal for me, too. see you tomorrow, gun-woo.”

gun-woo bent deep down as the bus stopped.

“thanks, y/n, for talking to us, and not beating up woo-jin.”

y/n giggled, and bent slightly down too.

“thank you for giving me an opportunity.”

as she got off, gun-woo sat back, folding out the paper. it was her number, they didn’t even ask for her number and she gave it to him! on the paper, there was a little message too.

show this to hyeon-ju. you guys forget everything. make sure she notes my number. and don’t worry, we are going to figure this out, one way… or another. y/n.

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

author's note: i hope you liked the first chapter. sorry for my english, it's not my first language, and i just got back to writing after a looong break. leave a like or comment if you liked it!! by babes

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holylulusworld · 5 months

Text

Kidnapping Miss America

Summary: It was an easy job. They had it planned well. They weren’t prepared for you.

Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Criminal!Jake Jensen

Warnings: bitchy reader, arguments, banter, biting (not the sexy kind), violence against kidnappers, mistaken identity, fighting for dominance, dumbass kidnappers (kinda), grumpy Bucky, tension

A/N: Here's the dream pairing we have been waiting for...😂

Words: 2,7k

“Fuck, she’s heavier than she looks,” the guy carrying you inside the hideout pants. He complains loudly as you hang over his shoulder. “I thought she was a model or something.”

“Hey, asshat! Say that again and I’ll scratch your eyes out! Never call me heavy again!” You wiggle in his tight hold. “I will kill the both of you and rip your balls off if I see one hair of your dick!”

The other guy chuckles at your antics. “Yeah, never call her heavy again. That’s not nice. And I won’t show you my dick. I don’t get hard for bitchy bitches.”

“Who asked you?” You growl and blindly grasp for your second kidnapper. “How about brightening your horizon and learning some new words? Bitchy bitches my ass.”

“She has claws and teeth,” kidnapper number one drops you to the ground, making you cry out as you land hard on your ass.

“You fucker!” You jump up faster than the guy can blink. They believed you were a damsel in distress and didn’t restrain your ankles or wrists. Now they regret their lapsus because you jump at the guy dropping you to the floor. “I’ll kill you.”

“What the fuck!” The guy exclaims as you tackle him. He ends up on the ground, you on top of him. You dig your nails into his chest and twist his left nipple. “OUCH!” He squeaks ungracefully as you do it again.

The second guy snickers behind you, but you won’t have it. You get up and rip the blindfold off your eyes. “Bastard!” You kick the first guy’s balls before jumping at the second guy. “I’ll kill you!”

“Help me!” The second guy calls for help as you sink your teeth in his neck and repeatedly bite him like a feral dog. “She tries to rip my flesh out! BUCKY! HELP!”

“I’ll get my pound of flesh!”

“Whoa, is this how Miss America acts? I thought you all dream of world peace and American pie!” The first guy slowly gets back up. He limps toward you to drag you off the second guy. “Let him go, you crazy bitch!”

“Eat shit, loser!” You snarl and twirl around to punch the first guy’s nose. “I’m not some girl you can just kidnap! Who do you think you are?”

“What the fuck, Jensen!” The first guy cups his aching crotch. “I wanted to make fast cash, not get my balls rearranged.”

You snicker as the first guy pleadingly looks at you. He’s much taller than you and strong. It shouldn’t be too hard for him to take you down. But he seems to be afraid to get close to you now.

“He said this is an easy job to make fast cash! All we had to do was grab Miss America and make sure she couldn’t win this contest,” the second guy, Jensen, grunts. “That’s not my fucking fault, Bucky!”

“Of course, it is your fucking fault! You listened to that dumbass,” Bucky bites back. His balls are bruised, and he won’t take this lightly. “I can’t believe I listened to you! I could’ve made more with poker tonight. Instead, I got my balls bruised.”

“More like your ego, wannabe kidnapper,” you chuckle darkly. Bucky’s eyes darken and he takes one step toward you.

You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists, preparing for a fight.

“What are you? A ninja or shit?” Jensen panics as you look like you know what you are doing. “I think she wants to use karate or something.”

“It’s called Krav Maga, dumbass,” you snap at Jensen and get ready for his attack. “Come and get some.” You prepare for a fight with both men. Two tall guys against you, a fair fight. Your trainer didn’t call you firecracker for nothing.

“I think she’s crazy,” Bucky looks at his accomplice. “Jensen, this was a stupid idea. Miss America is a crazy bitch.”

“Dude, I’m not a miss nor Miss America,” you grit your teeth at Bucky. “You are the crazy one here if you think I’ll just roll over and let you pervs touch me!”

“Wait!” Jensen raises his hands in surrender. “You are not Miss America?” He cocks his head to look you up and down. “Hmm…yeah. I guess those girls don’t have a nice ass like you do.”

“Did you just call my perfect bottom fat?” You narrow your eyes. “Say that again if you want to lose a testicle. I dare you four-eyes!”

Jensen looks offended and pouts. He sniffs and turns away for a moment while his partner in crime tries to charm his way out of this situation.

“It’s a perfect peach,” Bucky shamelessly stares at your ass. He hums and cups his crotch again. “If I didn’t risk another kick to my crotch I’d offer you to take care of your peach.” He grins like he made you the nicest compliment.

“Calling my ass peach won’t get you out of trouble! You kidnapped me, the bookkeeper of the year, and I missed the prize-giving because of you. They wanted to give me a golden pencil and a coupon.”

“Bookkeeper of the year?” Bucky groans. “Jensen don’t tell me we were at the wrong place. Again…”

“How shall I know?” Jensen shrugs. “Dude said she’ll be in the room and wait for us to grab her! It’s not my fault he gave us the wrong information.”

“Seriously? You wanted to kidnap Miss America?” You snort. “Dude, they protect her better than the president. Did you honestly believe Miss America is sleeping at a sleazy motel? She sleeps at the four seasons!”

“Great. We grabbed the wrong girl then,” Bucky sighs and runs one hand down his face. “We fucked up big time.” He pouts and stares daggers into his partner’s skull. “You fucked this up, Jensen!”

“He gave us the wrong information! That’s not my fault.” Jensen sniffs. “Why do you always blame me? I’m only the tech nerd to you. You do not respect me at all.”

“Aw, are you having relationship trouble? Do you want me to wait outside so you can make up?” You tease.

Jensen drops his gaze and sighs deeply. He shrugs and mumbles an apology under his breath.

Somehow, you pity these two. They don’t seem to be the smartest criminals and you can’t help but feel sorry for them.

Bucky slowly sits down on the worn-out couch. He switches the TV on, to distract himself from thinking about the money they lost tonight. Bucky switches through the channels, making comments about the shows. “Boring…nonsense…wait..”

“What is it?” Jensen gapes at the TV. “Pump up the volume. I want to hear this.”

You look at the TV, listening to what the reporter has to say. According to them someone tried to kidnap Miss America and got shot. They didn’t make it out alive.

“Whoa, this could’ve been us.” Bucky huffs. “Take that, Walker. I knew it was a stupid idea to work with that fucker! He gave us the wrong address to get all the money!”

“You only work with idiots, huh?” You sit next to Bucky. “So, tell me, how much money do you make with crimes.”

“Not much lately. We used to make a lot of cash, but our concurrent fucked us over,” Bucky grumbles. “We need fast cash to keep our business running and stop Rumlow from taking over our club.”

“How do you usually make cash if you don’t kidnap women?” You grin darkly as Bucky’s frown deepens. “Come on, we are kidnapping buddies now. You can trust me.”

“You kicked my balls, lady!” Bucky snaps at you. “I don’t trust you at all. My balls don’t trust you. And my gut instinct doesn’t trust you.”

You snort. “Fine, I’ll go home, grab my prize on the way, and tell Rumlow greetings from you two losers…”

Jensen stares at you with wide fearful eyes as you make your way toward the door.

“Rumlow?” He hiccups. “You know Rumlow?”

“He prefers when I call him Brock and rub his shoulders after a long day,” you look over your shoulder to flash Bucky, who suddenly stands behind you, a smirk. “Did I forget to mention that I’m his bookkeeper?”

Jensen makes an odd noise. He wrings his hands and tries to not show he’s scared to hell and back at the mention of Brock Rumlow.

“What? Not so cocky any longer?” You turn on your heels to jab two fingers into Bucky’s chest. “Miss America my ass. I’m worth more than that bony bitch!”

Bucky looks you up and down. He hums and immediately pounces on you. “You’re right,” you squeak when he throws you over his shoulder again. “Rumlow will pay us a fucking lot of money to get you back.”

“Uh-Bucky,” Jensen watches his partner restrain you to the heater. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to treat her this way. Rumlow will kill us,”

“Aw, your little partner is scared,” you snicker. “How about you two play by my rules from now on, and I help you get more money than you could ever spend?”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He sniffs and turns to leave the room. “I don’t trust you.”

“Wait, maybe she can help us,” Jensen doesn’t want to end up dead because they kidnapped you. If you are willing to help them, he’ll do anything to get in your good graces.

Bucky sneers as his partner looks at you like a lost puppy. “Get out of the fucking room, Jensen. We don’t negotiate with girls kicking a man’s balls.”

“It’s called massage,” you giggle and snort as Bucky turns around to glare at you. “Don’t tell me you never got kicked in the balls before. You scream awful first date.”

“Watch your tongue!” Bucky points his index finger at you. “I’m an awesome first date. The ladies never complained.”

“Yeah, because you bored them to death.” The look he gives you makes you giggle again. “You’re not used to a woman talking back, huh?”

“What you said about the money,” Jensen clears his throat to get your attention, “is it true? Can you help us?”

“Well,” you look at the handcuffs around your wrist. “I will talk if your partner takes these off again. If not, you will regret putting your hands on me.”

“How do you want to help us? Talk,” Bucky barks while his partner expectantly looks at you. “I don’t have all night.”

“I got more than enough time,” you stretch your body and yawn. “How about you get some food and beer first? I’ll talk after I eat. You fucked my day up.”

“Uh-I don’t have much money with me,” Jensen looks inside his wallet, sighing deeply. “I got ten bucks. What do you have, Bucky?”

“Guys,” you sigh and shake your head. “How did you survive for so long without my help?” You get up from the couch and grab your bag. “Christ, you should have at least one hundred bucks with you. You never know if you need to run.”

“What?” Bucky furrows his brows. “What do you mean you must run away?”

“I’m working for a dangerous criminal who likes to kill people if they look at him for too long. I have a plan, always.”

“Making plans is my job,” Jensen grins proudly. “Not this one, of course. Walker made the plan this time.”

“Hmm…” you open your wallet and hand Bucky fifty bucks. “Here, get us some food and beer. I think you know where my car is. Get it here, and don’t get caught. I trust you that you don’t run off and leave me alone with your partner.”

“I’m not your servant,” Bucky grunts and snatches the money out of your hands. “Why do you need your car?”

“I’ll tell you if you come back with food and beer…”

“Here,” Bucky slams the beer on the table. He drops three paper bags filled with takeout next to the beer, huffing as you are busy playing the blind man’s bluff card game with Jensen. “What are you doing? She’s still our hostage.”

“Jakie and I discussed the most important things,” you coo, and grab one of the bags. “I hope you brought some dessert too. This is going to be a long night.”

“Yeah? How about you answer my questions first,” Bucky grunts and slams his fist onto the table. “Why are there three suitcases and shit in your trunk?”

“Uh-“Batting your eyelashes you try to not give away too much. “That’s none of your business. I was about to go on vacation.”

“Vacation for how long?” Bucky steps closer and snatches the card from your forehead. He crumples the card up and flings it across the room. “I’m done playing games. Talk.”

“Stop barking at me like a feral dog,” you snap at Bucky. "Jake and I had a great time without your grumpy ass around."

“Stop messing with me,” the brunette pants heavily. “We’ve got no time for this shit.”

“Fine. I kinda stole the access data for Rumlow’s offshore bank accounts and his black book. I know where he’s hiding every single buck.”

Bucky licks his lips while his partner in crime nervously shifts in his seat. “He’s going to kill all of us, Buck. We need to get out of town!”

“Relax, Jakie!” You wave his concern off. “Rumlow is busy with another poker game. He’s out of town for a week. More than enough time to get out of town and transfer all of his money to my bank account in the Bahamas.”

“Bahamas? You think he won’t find you there?” Bucky huffs. “You’re stupider than I thought if you believe for one second you can rob Brock Rumlow and get away with it.”

“Aw, sweet cheeks,” you pat Bucky’s cheek. “I already robbed every single buck. I only need to get out of town, and this country.”

“She robbed all of his money,” Jensen hiccups. “What if he believes we had something to do with all of this?”

“You know,” sizing Jensen up you smirk, “I could need help hiding the money. You’re smart and reliable. If you are willing to follow me, we can be Gods.”

“Do you listen to yourself sometimes?” Bucky huffs. “Rumlow will flay Jensen and you alive. You have no survival instinct at all.”

“I got survival instinct,” you bump your chest into Bucky’s trying to intimidate him. “I kicked your balls, remember? I could have easily broken your neck too.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He dares to grin. “I doubt you’ll be able to wrap your hands around my neck. Little peach.”

“Well, if you are the survival expert you should join me and Jakie,” you challenge. “Your business is dead. So, I heard.”

“We could buy an island!” Jensen dreamily sighs. “Cocktails on the beach. The sun kissing my skin.”

“You’ll get sunburn,” Bucky grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest while eying you warily. He cocks a brow when you open a beer and take a large swig.

“I’ll pay you,” you run your fingertips over his bicep. “What’s your price? How much does your service cost me?”

Jensen watches you sip on the beer. He hums and imagines helping you for free to touch your peach. “I’ll do it for free!”

“Jensen!” Bucky mutters.

“Aw, he only wants to be a good boy for me, right?” You turn on your heels to pat Jensen’s cheek. He smiles widely. “I got more money than you could ever dream of. I only need someone to help me hide it and a bodyguard.”

“Bucky,” Jensen pleads.

“Fine,” the brunette throws his hands up. “If we die, I’ll blame you, Jensen.”

On your way out of town, you relax in the passenger seat staring at your bank account. Fifty million dollars should be enough to start a new life.

While Jensen takes a nap in the back seat, Bucky is driving the car you rented using a fake identity. He’s still a grumpy ass but you know, he’ll do anything to protect you. If only for the money you promised them.

Soon you will leave this country and your old life. Rumlow will regret firing you. He will remember your name till the end of his life.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #jake jensen #bucky barnes x reader #jake jensen x reader #Kidnapping Miss America #jake jensen x you #female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 1 month

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I'm not the only person who's had the misfortune of seeing discourse claiming that Wendy is Zionist Propaganda, right? Like, I get keeping a critical eye on stuff Paramount makes 'cuz of that one pro-Israel statement they released a while back, but... Wade's family is *Jewish,* not *Israeli.* I can't say I'm not a bit worried that people are unable or unwilling to tell the difference...

From what i can tell– and, again, I'm goy, take my opinion with a grain of salt– there is literally only one (1) line that's a little sketch. All the rest of it is literally just the family... being Jewish and existing as Jewish people. The only line that was a lil yikes was when they mention that the mom used to be a "krav maga" instructor, specifically mentioning it's an Israeli martial art– whether it was for the IOF or regular self-defense training isn't stated. That was a little concerning, but me and the server did look it up and the show was written in 2022 and filmed in April 2023, so it wasn't a line added in response to, er, current events or anything. Maybe in poor taste but probably not added maliciously. Keeping the line in the scene with current events in mind was a shitty thing to do, definitely, though, not gonna deny that.

But the lines that I'm specifically seeing people bitch about are... the ones about Jewish people having suffered in the past? Which. Yeah guys. They have. A lot. They're not talking about Palestine they're talking about, like, the one shit billion times the Jewish people have been displaced, oppressed, etc. In a few minutes they're talking about the forty-year-time-out in the desert after Moses's fuckup. A good chunk of Jewish holidays can be boiled down to "they tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat." Saying "Jewish people suffered in the past" is not zionist propaganda, it's. literally true.

Adam Pally is actually Jewish, and probably either requested the character details or it was added with him as an inspo. I think people are just on edge cause Paramount has showed support for Isr-el in the past. We just got news a few hours ago that the CEO of Paramount just got kicked, though, so maybe we have hope for a change?

#knuckles spoilers #politics

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted: Chapter 2, Unspeakable - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol, longing looks/touches, this part's mostly fluff, ngl.

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: And from that night, you and Bucky became best friends. Because there are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and the stuff of your nightmares was one of them.

A/N: I thought the Harry Potter quote was appropriate to bastardize for the Previously On... Don't come for me, lol

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21

From that night on, Bucky found every excuse he could to touch you. It was as though, after so many years of nothing but cold cruelty, he had become addicted to the warmth and softness of your skin. You didn't mind in the least; you liked the way he wrapped his arm around your stomach and rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder when he came up behind you, or the way he pulled your hand onto his thigh and traced the lines of your palm with his index finger while you watched TV in the common room, side by side.

One afternoon, you were standing in front of a monitor in your lab, lost in thought as the numbers from your latest algorithm trial ran across the screen. So immersed were you in the data that you didn't notice the form coming up behind you until two hands grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you.

Without thinking, your years of training kicked in, like flipping on a switch. You stomped down, hard, on the top of your assailant's foot with your heel, while simultaneously throwing your elbow back into their solar plexus. The attacker let out a low "Oof" and released their hold on you, giving you the opportunity to drop your weight low and spin on your toes to face them.

Bucky stood stooped before you, one hand clutching his abdomen where your elbow had made contact, the other hand held up in surrender. The other hand?

"Jesus Christ, Buck!" you panted. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I was trying to surprise you, you hell beast," Bucky said, though he was smiling. Rubbing the tender spot of nerves you had so artfully disturbed, he asked "Where'd you learn to fight so dirty?"

"Krav Maga," you beamed, pleased that you'd managed to get a hit on a super soldier, even if Bucky hadn't been actually attacking you. "Care to tell me how you managed to end up with two fucking arms?"

Now it was Buck's turn to beam at you as he held out his new left arm for your perusal. You took the hand, inspecting it. Black metal gleamed in the light of your lab. You turned the arm over, admiring the craftsmanship. "This is a thing of beauty, Buck," you murmured, trailing your fingers along the gold veins that ran through the metal. Bucky involuntarily shivered at your touch. "You can feel that?" you asked him, awestruck. He nodded, his face awash in delight.

You leaned in to examine it more closely. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was... But, no, it couldn't be– "Bucky," you said in astonishment, looking up to meet his eye, "is this vibranium?"

Bucky grinned from ear to ear, looking like a little boy who had gotten just what he'd asked for for Christmas. "It was a gift. From the Wakandans, for helping them capture Helmut Zemo." Bucky seemed almost shy at revealing why the Wakandans had gifted him the arm, as though he was still uncomfortable with being acknowledged for doing good instead of being blamed for committing evil.

"This..." you started, at a loss for words. "Bucky, this is amazing! The Wakandans are the most technologically advanced nation on the planet. This makes the arm I've been working on look like a fucking stick."

Bucky cocked his head and studied you as you studied the vibranium appendage. "You were making me an arm, doll?" he asked, throat choked on emotion.

You looked up at him, a blush of color rising to your cheeks. "Well, I was trying to. I wasn't going to say anything until I knew it would work; I didn't want to get your hopes up, but this... this is worlds better than anything I could have manufactured."

Bucky gently pulled his metal arm from your hand and used it to cup your cheek, instead. You leaned into the cool, hard metal. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," he murmured. You gave him a soft smile.

"You're one of my best friends, and you deserve all the good things," you told him with a shrug of your shoulder. "Including two functioning arms."

Bucky pulled you into a hug and you returned his embrace, relishing in the feeling of being completely held by him. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Pocket," he said into the top of your head.

You pulled back to look up at him. "Well, hopefully, you'll never have to find out." You stayed like that for a few moments longer, neither of you willing to be the first to let go. "You know what," you said, eventually pulling away from him, "we should celebrate."

Bucky looked down at you with a glint in his eye. "Celebrate, huh? What should we do?"

"Anything you want," you told him, moving out of the cage of his arms. Arms. You still couldn't believe it. "It's your arm we're celebrating."

He studied you for a moment, and there was a look in his eyes you couldn't quite decipher. As the heat of Bucky's gaze lingered on you, a shiver ran down your spine. There was something different about the way he looked at you now, something that made your heart race and your palms grow sweaty. It was as if every fiber of his being was focused solely on you, his eyes tracing every contour of your face with an almost alarming intensity.

"Can we start those Hobbit movies?" he asked.

"That's how you want to celebrate?" you smiled up at him. "You're such a fucking nerd. Yeah, we can absolutely do that. Oh, shit--" you remembered. "It's Girls' Night tonight. It’s fine– I can skip it."

"No," said Bucky, and the look he'd been giving you had vanished, leaving you to wonder if you'd simply imagined it to begin with, "go to Girls' Night. I know how much you look forward to those."

"I said we'd celebrate, and I want to celebrate," you insisted. "I can bow out of Girls' Night early. I'll just pop in, have one glass of wine, and then I'll be all yours; they can manage without me for a night."

Bucky hit you with his devil-charming grin. "All mine?" he asked, a mischievous lilt to his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully slapped at his chest. "You know what I mean, asshat."

"Another dollar in the jar," he tsked.

"Get the fuck out of here and let me get back to work," you said with a laugh, shooing him away. You followed him with your eyes as he made his way to the door. Right before he went through, he turned around and looked back over at you, giving you a parting smile before walking off.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky x y/n

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baeddel · 9 months

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when i was a child i liked combat sports; i took martial arts classes (i forget which form) and i competed in fencing. i had to stop when i went to highschool because we didn't have time for it anymore. after leaving highschool i met a girl who did boxing and i planned to go and sign up at her gym to learn it with her, but i became too ill and it never happened. still, it had reignited my interest in combat sports and i would talk about it with people. i told one guy that i liked the look of Muay Thai; he expressed a common view, which was that martial arts like this sucked, because they were impractical in a real fight. he liked Krav Maga because it was real.

[long-ish post about fighting]

and i always objected to that kind of thinking! look here: it's true that much of the game which is played on the mat is produced by the restrictions placed on combatants. even in a very permissive sport like MMA, the great importance of ground fighting to that sport is produced by the restriction on fish-hooks and head kicks. thus, you can say that even these fights 'aren't real' in some sense. but how often are you ever going to be in a fight where you're willing to rip the other guy's cheek out, gouge out his eyes and so forth? Krav Maga was first developed for Jews to defend themselves from anti-semitic mobs in the 1930s. i know that some of you have certainly been in fights like that; but not all fights are that existentially serious. even in fights where there is such a high level of emnity there are often factors which restrain the fight from becoming an existential one. if you live somewhere that fascists are embedded and you blind one of theirs in a fight you might expect retribution; likewise you would be guilty of a felony and might get in real trouble. apprehensions like this might stay your hand—and already you are engaging in a kind of combat which is to some extent governed by extra-martial rules that produce a to some extent artificial situation.

of course, some martial arts will be more useful to know in the kind of combat games you are likely to play even so, and Muay Thai has not suddenly become more useful than Krav Maga on the basis of what i said. but i think that it is common to 1. underestimate the usefulness of even highly artifical combat sports, like fencing, and 2. overstate the utility of various 'self-defence' techniques, especially blinding, because the artificial, rules-governed nature of real fights is forgotten.

on point one, i would always credit my fencing experience with my success at fighting in highschool. i would sometimes even adopt the pose—one hand back, foot pointed forward—and people would (jokingly) say, 'it's [her] style! [she's] the fencer!' this part was not really useful; these fights were between friends and featured no emnity; we wanted to entertain the crowd, so there was a certain amount of kayfabe. but we were teenagers and behaved badly; once blows began we really hurt each other, and i even sent a few kids to the hospital (one with a concussion and the other with a wounded leg). plus, secret feelings of jealousy and resentment could be awakened during the course of the fight, so more emnity was felt as the fight grew more serious. what i thought really helped me from all the fencing matches was simply the sparring experience. when another living person attacks you without relenting, watches your movements for openings, and tries to stop whatever you do to them, it's difficult not to be overwhelmed and confused. being able to keep a level head, comprehend the situation and make decisions in the moment gave me an advantage over less experienced friends.

on the second point, i had older male friends who gave me a lot of advice that i can now recognize was plainly bad advice. for example, a girl i had a crush on had an older brother who always gave me and her other friends a hard time. i hated him so much i wanted to do something about him. so my friend told me that when fighting a larger and stronger opponent, i should do this... and this... a lot of techniques that had i really gone and done it would have left him permanently blind and disfigured. how do you think my crush would have felt if i went and did all that to her brother? these 'real' street fighting techniques were not useful in a real fight—a fight with stakes proportional to my real situation. when i did end up in situations with existential stakes (you know the stories) these techniques did nothing for me, since i would be alone against multiple attackers, or the other guy had frightening connections, or there was an asymmetry of power (who teaches 'defense against a guy in a car'?). in all cases the only wothwhile advice i ever got was this: you cannot run away in high heels.

similarly, when we had our low-stakes fights at school, the crowd would call out for me to punch the other guy in the face, or to kick him when he was down. afterwards they were disappointed that i didn't 'really go for him.' all this kind of talk really got to me; i would be standing there, facing my opponent and saying to myself, 'do it! do it!' in the end i never punched anyone in the face or tried any kind of dirty fighting at all. for this i hated myself so much. i was furious with myself; i would sit down and be angry at myself for a long time. i considered myself a coward and a weakling because i wouldn't go 'all in.' i didn't 'have the guts.' actually, what i felt was compassion for another person, and it was not a contemptable restraint at all. what was i trying to do—what was i trying to become? i think this is a way you can be misled by the discourse around 'real fighting.'

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