#AND RIGHT AFTER POLITES TOO? JAIL. STRAIGHT TO JAIL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mosylufanfic · 2 years

Note

Awkward first meeting themed #7. Rebelcaptain.

“You found me hanging by my fingertips from your window and i don’t want to tell you i was trying to rob you but idk how else to explain this and i don’t want to go to jail and also you’re kind of cute we should make out when i’m not clinging onto your window ledge for my life”

Initially I thought of this as a modern AU, but this canon possibility occurred and it tickled me pink.

Need a Hand?

"Well, kriff," Jyn muttered to herself.

Her fingers were starting to hurt. The wind snatched at her clothes and whipped her hair around her head.

She didn't need to turn her head to know how far down it was. She'd overestimated that damn ledge was what she'd done. The window had popped open, taking her by surprise, and her foot had slipped right off. It was a miracle she'd caught herself. No thanks to the cheap-ass rope she'd paid too much for, which had snapped the second she fell.

No rope, and she didn't have any purchase for her feet except flat wall no matter how she flailed her legs. Her fingers really hurt now, and the wind was chilling them almost numb. When they did go numb, down she'd go.

"Hello?"

She went tense all over - well. Tenser.

"Who's out there?"

She thought frantically. Absolutely no non-criminal reason for clinging to the wall ten stories up, right outside a general's personal office, occurred to her.

A head popped out of the open window. Dark hair caught by the wind, razor-sharp beard and mustache. Kind of cute. For a fucking Imperial. Because she could see the ugly olive-green uniform with all its rigidly straight lines.

Just her luck that not only had she miscalculated the ledge and gotten a piece of shit rope, she'd gotten bad intel on the office's schedule. According to that, everyone was supposed to be out all afternoon, but clearly they were not.

Damn. She was dead.

Although she was dead if her hands slipped.

Either way, it didn't look good.

He looked down and spotted her. His brows furrowed. "Hi," he said after a moment.

HI? What happened to blustery bellows? You there! What do you think you're up to? Guards! Guards!!

None of that. Weird.

"Hi," she said, because it had been a good fifteen seconds since he'd greeted her, and he was looking like he had more questions for every one of those..

"Can I help you?" he said.

Another shocker. "Me? Nah. I'm fine."

"Mmm. Yes. You look fine." He reached down. "It makes me nervous. Have pity."

Saw would have told her to dramatically reject his offered help and fling herself to the winds. But Saw wasn't here, was he? He'd fucking abandoned her on Tamsye Prime last year. So whatever he would have done, she'd do the opposite. See how he liked that.

"Oh, well, if you insist," she said, and felt his warm hands clamp over her wrists. She went tense again.

"Grab onto my wrists," he said. "Then you can get your feet braced."

Gripping his wrists as tightly as her chilled fingers would permit, she anchored her feet to the side of the building, leaning back. A sudden fear that she'd pull them both over froze her intestines, but he simply leaned back in his turn, counterbalancing her as she walked up the side of the building until she could get one leg over the windowsill and tumble into the room.

Ground! Solid ground. She could kiss it.

That's if this Imperial here didn't shoot her. Although he could have let her fall, so -

"Thanks," she said, flexing her aching fingers and then tucking her hands into her armpits to warm them up. They tingled as they thawed.

"No trouble," he said, scrupulously polite.

He wasn't the general. She'd studied too many holos of the man, red-faced and smug in front of all his valuables, to make that mistake. But he must be some kind of lackey or factotum or assistant, and as such, he was almost as dangerous.

And yes, damn it, it wasn't adrenaline-based horniness. He was cute. And young - not more than ten years her senior if she had to guess. Maybe as little as five. But literal scum of the earth could be good-looking, she supposed, and everyone had to be young once.

He looked her up and down. "Do your parents know where you are?"

Her teeth snapped together. She hoped it looked like a petulant teen's annoyance instead of her instinctive rage every time someone made her think of Galen Erso. "Of course they do." She emphasized her Core accent as much as she could, hoping to transform herself into a silly, bored high society teenager.

He made a skeptical noise. "What were you doing out there, anyway?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "You know. Taking the air."

"Taking," he said. "The air."

"Mmmhmmm." She flexed her fingers again and smoothed her wind-whipped hair back. "Very refreshing. All the rage. You know us young people. It's quite the fad these days. Hanging out on window ledges ten stories up."

"Dangerous fad," he said, moving back in front of the desk and frowning at what looked like a datapad.

"Well, that's what makes it fun. The possibility of falling to your splattery death." Since his attention was diverted, she sidled up next to a set of shelves and swiped a tiny gold statue from behind several others, where it would be least missed.

"Not to mention the possibility of somebody thinking you might be trying to rob a place."

Her fingers convulsed around an ugly crystal swan that would fetch at least five hundred credits with her favorite fence. "I mean," she said as the swan's wings cut into her palms. "There's that."

She tucked her hand behind her back and gently dropped the swan into her bag. Then she curled her fingers around the tiny blaster she had tucked into an inside pocket. Would it shoot through her bag?

He tapped something on his pad. "You're going to tell me that makes it more fun, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Although you lose the game, so - uh, can I ask a question?"

"You can ask."

"Why are you trying to break into your boss's desk?"

At that, he did look up. "Now, what makes you think that?"

"That lock cracker you're holding." She gestured.

His eyes flickered. For a moment, she thought, He's dangerous.

And not in the way that Imperials were usually dangerous, with the weight of power behind their bullying. But dangerous in that he could take care of her, and then her body, in about twenty seconds, and go back to breaking into that desk without a thought.

Then he smiled. "Why do you think?"

She let out her breath.

She'd always heard that the Imperial brass spent all their time backstabbing and climbing over each other, but it was a surprise to find actual espionage going on. Well, hell, maybe they'd blame him for the missing trinkets. Seemed like the kind of petty thing an Imperial would do.

It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't exactly answered her question. But she didn't pursue it, and she let go of the blaster.

Since her hand was free, she swiped a tiny box, positioned front and center of the trinket shelf, that would feed her for a month.

"You know," he said, back to frowning at the cracker, "that's all chump change on that shelf there. You want the real stuff, check the top shelf."

She looked up. The top shelf was well above six feet off the ground. Easy for him. Doable for her if she climbed. But she felt like she'd had enough of climbing for the day.

She considered him. He hissed through his teeth as the lock resisted yet another attempt.

"Give me that cracker," she said. "You get me something off the top shelf. We'll call it even."

He gave her a long look, then handed it over and went to the shelf, reaching up.

"Nope," she called out. "Too distinctive." She'd never shift it. "Not that one. Yeah. Yeah, that one." The lock clicked loudly. "Okay, you're in."

"That was fast," he remarked, handing her a vase that looked about six hundred years old and tucking the lock cracker into some inner pocket.

"I'm good," she said, wrapping the vase and the swan in a length of padded cloth she'd packed for just that purpose.

She watched him spray his hands with something that looked an awful lot like the sealing spray she had on her own fingertips. So you wouldn't leave fingerprints behind.

He pulled paperwork out, riffled through it, found what he was looking for, and scanned it with a wand from his pocket. He dropped all the flimsi carelessly on the floor, including the one he'd scanned, and pulled out another drawer to do the same.

"Oh, do you want this?" he asked.

She accepted the jewelry box and found it held a pair of incredibly ugly earrings, jammed with gems and filigree. "Nice," she said. She could pop the stones and melt down the settings. "Gaudy. But good quality. General's a bit of a glitter hound, is he?"

"Oh, they're not for him," he said, pursing his lips over another piece of flimsi. "They're for his eighteen-year-old step-niece who visits dear old Step-Uncle an awful lot lately."

That was only a year older than her. "Gross," she said. "If you know that already, why are you breaking in instead of blackmailing him?"

"I could," he allowed. "But it lacks poetry. Finesse."

"Plausible deniability?"

"That too." He tossed more flimsi to the floor.

"You're going to blame me for this, aren't you?" She watched him, narrow-eyed. Easy enough for him to help her now, then sound the alarm when he'd got what he wanted, and get all the recognition of having caught a burglar. Her fingers inched toward the little blaster again.

"Absolutely," he said, scanning yet another paper. "Or rather, everyone else is going to blame the mysterious robber who vanished without a trace. And you're going to be far enough away in a short enough amount of time that you won't care."

She relaxed. He could be lying. But she didn't think so. "No. I won't care."

He checked the last two drawers, dumped them for good measure, and got to his feet. "Going out the same way you came in?"

"That was the plan. But I'm open to suggestions." She watched curiously as he selected an apparently random holo from a display ledge, then swept the rest to the floor in a mess of shattering glass and short-circuiting electronics.

"General's private elevator," he said, waving a hand at the blank wall with a panel set about elbow-height. "Goes all the way down or all the way up. Your choice."

"Don't those have cameras? Records?"

"Not if you're using the step-niece's personal code," he said. She was somehow unsurprised to see him punching it in and the door zipping open.

She peered in, noting the camera in the top corner and that its light was off. She scraped her hair over her face anyway before stepping in. "You coming?"

"Oh, I have my own way out," he said. "Don't worry about me."

"I wasn't."

He handed her the picture he held. "The frame should fetch you a nice price."

"Thanks for the help," she said, selecting the button that would take her to the bottom-most parking level.

"Don't mention it," he said. "Really. Ever."

As the elevator plunged downward, she studied the picture he'd given her. It was a bog-standard office holo, everyone standing stiffly, fake smiles plastered over bared teeth. At the back of the group, half-hidden by someone's shoulder and head, was a patch of dark hair and a bearded cheek that might have been the man who'd been searching the office she'd just left.

"Hmmm," she murmured, and deleted the picture.

What a weird heist that had been.

FINIS

#Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #rebelcaptain #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #pre-movie meeting #Jyn is about 17 so not Rebel Rising compliant #star wars

52 notes · View notes

harperfrogspad · 6 months

Text

Partners: Chapter 13: Friends: Old and New

A week had passed since the execution, Mark Joncière had easily gotten a full confession out of Councilor Harmon who was terrified of being executed himself. He told Joncière that he had received an anonymous invitation to a online meeting of like minded people who didn’t like that The Prior was trying to remove restrictions on Psionics and trying to encourage acceptance of all different genome groups. Unfortunately, the entire event was anonymous so he didn’t have names of anyone else who was there. He was able to tell them that the group believed that The Prior was too high profile of a target so they weren’t after him, yet anyway. He also give them names of other potential targets, both Church and secular leaders. Because of his full cooperation and the information he was able to provide Councilor, now only Monsieur Harmon was most likely going to be sent to jail rather than a work camp, or executed.

Extra security had been added to anyone who was on the list Harmon had given them, but for Lou and Kay work proceeded as normal.

The partners hadn’t seen Morgan Parker since the day of the execution so Kay hadn’t had a chance to apologize to her yet. But on that day while he was in the cafeteria he spotted her sitting alone, half heatedly eating. He took his lunch and walked over to her.

“Hello, Morgan,” he said.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Kay?”

“May I join you?” He asked politely.

Morgan looked at him for a moment. “Uh, yeah, sure, of course.”

Kay sat down with his tray of food and looked at Morgan. Her usually neat black hair was a little frizzy, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she’d hardly touched her food.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her.

Morgan looked at him with mild indignation. Even her usually bright blue eyes seemed dull.

“You aren’t even going to asked how I am, just going straight to ‘What’s wrong?’” She said.

Kay titled his head slightly and gave her a knowing look.

“Huh, fine. You’re probably the only one who knows me well enough to get away with that,” she smirked at him.

He smiled at her. “So?”

She sighed. “My chaplain was pissed about the whole execution incident so he’s got me on desk duty and with all they extra security stuff going on it means I’m having to write tons more reports and logs. So I’ve been working longer hours and I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

Kay smiled sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Morgan squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you here anyway? Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?”

Kay gave her a half smile. “No, Lou isn’t the jealous type. And I came to apologize.”

Morgan raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Apologize for what?”

“For the way I spoke to after the execution, it was too harsh and not my place. I’m sorry,” Kay said sincerely.

She just stared at him for a moment. “But you were right. I made the same mistake as befo-”

Kay put up his hand, asking her to wait. “I may have been right, but I didn’t have to say it the way I did. I was upset and it was reflected in the way I spoke to you and you don’t deserve that. I was upset because I believed that you had made the same mistake too, but now that I’ve had some more time to think about it I don’t think you did. You shifted slightly, you didn’t abandon your position.”

Morgan scoffed slightly, surprised by his words. “You wanna tell my chaplain that?”

“I will, if you want me to,” he said.

“No, no, don’t, probably just make it worse. I’m pretty sure he hates me.” Morgan looked at him for a second. “Do you really mean all that?”

Kay reached across the table and held his hand out to her. After a pause Morgan put her hand in his, she felt his honesty.

“Listen, Kay, I don’t want to be that ex-girlfriend, but have you heard the rumors about Lou?”

Kay gave her a restraining smile. “Many of them, yes. They are just that: rumors.”

“Have you heard the most recent ones about her and a certain Inquisitor?” Morgan asked.

“Mark Joncière,” Kay said without having to think.

“Yeah, that one,” Morgan confirmed.

Kay remembered that weird look and the strange feeling that passed through her when Joncière had put his hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.

“Morgan, I appreciate that you are trying to look out for me, but I’d know if Lou cheated on me,” Kay told her.

“Yeah, I know. But there is something weird about those two,” Morgan explained.

“She saved his life, and he saved hers, they were in a traumatic event together. You know how that can change the way people are with each other,” Kay explained.

“Yeah, I know, I’ve just heard a lot stuff.”

“I’m sure most of it comes from the fact that she called him by his first name and no one else, except The Prior does that,” Kay told her.

“You know her best, I’m sure you’re right, I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Morgan said.

“I appreciate that,” Kay smiled softly.

For a little while there was silence between them, Morgan looked thoughtful and Kay didn’t rush her.

“I wanted to be angry with you for so long,” she said. “But I just couldn’t.”

“I know,” Kay said softly. “I hoped that by being away for me you could-“

“Get over you?” She interrupted.

“Yes,” Kay said somewhat sadly. “Morgan, you deserve someone who will love and adore you.”

Morgan scoffed. “We aren’t all as lucky as you.”

He squeezed her hand. “There are people out there who would surprise you, not everyone hates us.”

Morgan looked down at their hands together and Kay felt a pang of sadness, but there was something else too.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” She asked.

“Yes,” Kay had anticipated this question from the moment he first saw Morgan again.

Morgan nodded. “You never looked at me the way you look at her. I always wanted to believe that you loved me once, but-”

“I did, you know I did, and I still do,” he said, she felt the truth of his words. “I was just… never in love with you. But I care about you deeply and I always have.”

Morgan was quiet, she had felt it, he spoke the truth. But she also felt the love.

“You were my best friend, Kay,” she said sadly.

“I know, you were mine too,” he said quietly.

She could feel the regret in him, she felt the same way. “What happened to us?”

“When friends get together it either works really well,” he paused. “Or it doesn’t.”

“I lost everything when they reassigned me, my home, my boyfriend, my best friend, the job I loved.”

“I know, and I’m sorry it worked out that way, I truly am. But you have another chance now, I think that’s why I got so upset with you, I was worried that you hadn’t learned anything and were making the same mistake.”

“And I’ve still managed to fucked it up again,” she said annoyed with herself.

“No, you haven’t,” he squeezed her hand. “Everything will work out.”

She smiled at him, he smiled back.

“Hi, guys,” Lou said, standing in front of their booth.

Morgan quickly pulled her hand away from Kay’s, he, however was perfectly calm, Lou ignored the whole exchange.

“Martin let you go early?” Kay asked calmly.

“Yes,” Lou said sitting down next to Kay. “I *may* have fallen asleep on his couch a little bit.”

Kay and Morgan both stared at her.

“Wasn’t he mad?” Morgan asked.

“No, not at all, he just told me to go home, but then I felt really hungry,” she said taking a breadstick off of Kay’s plate and biting into it.

Kay smiled at her. “Didn’t you order anything?”

“I did!” She said, mouth still full of bread. “It’s coming.”

He smiled again. Morgan watched them together without jealously this time, and somehow she felt different inside.

Lou turned to her, mouth now free of food. “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Morgan asked.

“I haven’t yet,” Kay told Lou.

“Well, get on it, Stone,” Lou said playfully, gesturing to Morgan, as she took another bite of Kay’s breadstick.

Kay gave Lou an amused look before turning to Morgan. “The Prior would like your help with an upcoming assignment.”

“What?” Morgan couldn’t believe her ears.

That was the moment when Lou’s lunch showed up. The two empaths watched as she dove into her food like a starving woman. Morgan was surprised, but Kay was used to Lou’s often ravenous hunger.

“You forget your morning snack again?” Kay asked.

Lou turned her head, mouth full, eyebrows scrunched up. “No! I was just… busy.”

“Busy… sleeping?” He quipped.

He smirked at her, she rolled her eyes at him, waved her hand for him to keep taking, and went back to her food.

“The Prior asked us if we could reach out to you and see if you wanted to help us out again,” Kay told Morgan.

“But,” she was confused. “After what happened?”

“He did ask our opinions first,” Lou said, between bites of food.

“We told him that we were both willing to work with you again,” Kay told her.

“Wow, well, I’d be honored,” Morgan said. “When?”

“Two weeks from now,” Kay said.

“What’s the assignment?” Morgan asked, already looking better.

“Extra security for The Prior and Mark Joncière at a social event. We’ll get all the details the day before,” Kay said.

“Alright, sounds good,” Morgan said. “But what about my chaplain?”

“No chaplain would deny The Prior’s request,” Lou told her.

“And if The Prior himself is requesting your help, that will no doubt clear up things with your chaplain and get you off desk duty,” Kay said, smiling.

Morgan looked at him happy and mildly annoyed at the same time. “You knew all along and you just sat there and let me vent?”

“You looked like you needed to vent,” Kay shrugged.

“Don’t try and understand his methods,” Lou said, nudging her partner with her shoulder. “He’s just got his own way of doing things, and damn it if he isn’t usually right.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Morgan said.

“So much! Like how is he always right?!” Lou agreed.

“I don’t know,” Morgan smirked.

Then the two women chuckled. Kay, instead of being annoyed or embarrassed by this, just smiled watching his ex-girlfriend and his current girlfriend share an understanding about him.

Lou texted Danielle to let her know that Morgan was willing to join them and she said she would pass it on to The Prior. After that the partners went home, they were free for the next two days. Lou also texted Jonas to let him know that they had a couple of days off if they wanted to get together.

The next day Lou and Kay were at his place, they were snuggled up on the couch together watching an old movie after lunch. It wasn’t long after they started the movie that Kay realized that Lou was asleep on his shoulder. He turned off the movie, it was one she hadn’t seen and he didn’t want her to miss it. Then he picked her up and carried her to bed, tucked her in, got a book, and snuggled in next to her. He laid reading while she slept, occasionally she would shift or snuggle closer to him; Kay enjoyed her closeness. About two hours passed when Lou’s phone, still in her pocket, went off, she flinched awake.

“It’s alright, love,” Kay told her calmly. “It’s just your phone.”

Lou was slightly disoriented at first, but then dug her phone out of her pocket. It was Jonas calling.

“Hey,” she greeted his holographic image.

“Hey, I got your text, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you till now, I’ve been busy at work,” the healer said.

“That’s fine,” Lou said, still sleepy.

“Tom and Irma are coming into the city tonight, can you two make it?” Jonas asked.

Lou turned to Kay, who smiled and nodded. “Sure, we’ll be there.”

Then they decided when and where and said good bye.

Lou sighed after hanging up and snuggled back down against Kay, he chuckled.

“Why are you so sleepy?” He ask.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

He suspected that she wasn’t sleeping as much at night, at least once he’d caught her awake and on her phone in the middle of the night. For whatever reason she never had nightmares in the day time, so Kay believed that she was staying awake at night and napping during the day to avoid the nightmares.

He kissed her forehead. She looked up at him.

“You don’t mind, did you?” She asked.

“About what?”

“Going out with the guys tonight,” She said.

Kay smirked. “Of course not, why would I?”

“I forgot to talk to you about it beforehand.”

He smiled, kissed her briefly, and said: “I like going out with you and your friends are cool.”

Lou looked at him for awhile. She hoped that someday he’d see them as his friends too and that they would be friends with him. She hated how alone in the world he seemed. Kay smiled while he watched her, feeling her emotions shifting as she thought.

Lou took a deep breath. “So what should we do until tonight?”

“Well, you did fall asleep in the middle of our movie,” he said.

“True, I’m fine with that, but I’m hungry again,” she said.

“Again? But I just fed you!” He teased.

“Yeah, well, feed me again!” She shot back.

The couple laughed and then got out of bed. Lou got more food and they went back to their movie. It was a quiet, lazy afternoon, but they both enjoyed it. It was just the kind of rest they needed after all the craziness at work and with a big event coming up. In the evening they got ready to go to the club to meet up with Lou’s friends. Kay just had on his usual style of street clothes, Lou decided to be a little fancier. Kay waited for her to finish getting ready in the living room.

“Well,” she said attracting his attention. “What do you think?”

Kay turned to look at her and felt his heart skip excitedly. Lou was wearing a blue floor length dress, that had a split on one side all the way up to her hip. It was shoulder-less with a deep scoop down her chest accentuating her cleavage and a black belt around her waist. Her long blonde hair was loose, draped over one shoulder, on the opposite side of her head there were three small braids. Kay stared at her shamelessly for a moment.

“You look incredible,” he said, still staring.

“I haven’t even shown you the best part yet,” she said, smiling.

“There’s more?” Kay wasn’t sure he could handle more, he already wanted to rip it off of her.

Lou turned her back to him to reveal that there was no back to the dress and it scooped all the down, just barely covering her ass, and hugged every delicious curve.

“Mm,” Kay made a sound of pleasure and crossed the room in three long steps.

He wrapped her in his arms and started kissing her neck.

Lou gasped not expecting to feel his hot lips against her skin. He placed several kisses on her neck before slowly moving down to her shoulder and kissing a trail that then moved to her back.

He slowly placed one kiss after another, each slightly lower than the last one. One hand stayed at her waist to give her added stability, while the hand slinked into the slit in her dress and made a discovery. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

“Mmmm,” he moaned against her back as he kissed it.

The sound vibrated against her sending a wave of tremors down her spine causing her to arch her back. That happened at the same time that his hand found its way between her legs. His dexterous fingers slipped into her hot, wet, center and gently teased her most sensitive spot.

“Kay,” his name was a breathless sound on her lips, as her legs nearly buckled. “We… need… to… leave.”

“Hush,” he said, barely taking his lips off her long enough to speak. He felt her desire, he know she didn’t want to stop any more than he did.

His lips finally reached the fabric of her dress, that barely covered her, he kissed the very base of her spine. She moaned as his fingers slid inside her, he didn’t waste any time. He set a quick pace knowing exactly how to pleasure her. Her moans filled the room as he kept up his pace, then he felt the warm liquid cover his hand and heard her cry of pleasure. Her knees gave out and he had to catch her and ease her to the floor as she breathed heavily.

They both sat on the floor with their legs folded under them, Kay held Lou securely against his chest, her head laid back on his shoulder. She was still trying to breathe normally when Kay snaked his hand back into the slit in her dress and slipped back into her. She grabbed ahold of his leg with one hand, and his free hand with her other. Moaning she turned her face towards his and he leaned his closer to her so that she could nuzzled against his cheek. Just like before he wasted no time getting up to speed, and the room was filled with the sounds of her pleasure. And again he felt the rush of wet warmth on his hand, he loved how easy it was.

Lou, still gasping for breath said: “No more.”

Kay chuckled. “Alright, alright,” then he kissed her cheek and removed his hand from under her dress.

Kay got an alert on his phone, he checked it. “The cab is here.”

“Go wash your hands,” she commanded.

Kay chuckled. Then he stood, helped her up and walk to the couch, then he washed his hands in the kitchen.

“We need to go,” she said when he came back.

Kay helped her up. “Are you alright?”

Lou chuckled, her arm looped with his. “More than alright, I feel wonderful.”

Kay smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Are you going to be alright?” She asked looking down towards his pants.

Chuckling, then kissing her cheek, he walked her down to their cab.

Once they arrived at the club they easily found her social group waiting for them, minus one.

“Where’s Dogan?” Lou asked as she and Kay sat down with their drinks.

“He said he was running late,” Jonas told her. “Apparently he’s bringing someone with him.”

“Oh really?” Lou asked, interested.

“I don’t know anything,” the healer held his hands up.

Lou chuckled, “alright, relax,” she playfully rolled her eyes and then turned to Tom and Irma. “How are you guys doing? Feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

“We’re really well, actually,” Tom said.

Irma smiled. “We’ve both been moved to a higher pay grade.”

The whole group congratulated them all at once. Once they all quieted down again, they decided to order some food while they waited for Dogan and his date. Tom insisted on paying for the group, so he when off to order, Kiddo decided to drag Lou and Irma onto the dance floor, leaving Jonas and Kay alone at the table.

Jonas pulled out a cigarette. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked the empath.

“No, not at all. Go right ahead,” Kay said.

They sat quietly for a moment while Jonas smoked.

“Is Tina still having a hard time being around you?” Kay asked.

Jonas took a long, slow, drag on his cigarette and then blew the smoke out. “Yeah, I don’t know what else to do about it.”

“She probably just needs time,” Kay said, sympathetically.

“She needs someone her age to get over me with,” Jonas said.

Kay chuckled, but refrained from commenting.

Just then Lou came up to them very fast, a strange look on her face, she stood in front of Kay. He felt an array of emotions flying her, instinctively he reached out to comfort her, but she stepped back before he could touch her.

“Now correct me I’m wrong, but is that, or is that not your ex-girlfriend over there hanging on the neck of my friend?” Lou asked the empath, leaning to the side so he could see.

Kay looked over Lou’s shoulder and out on the dance floor he saw Morgan Parker with her arms around Dogan’s neck as they slow danced. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Then he looked back to Lou, who did not look happy, his smile immediately disappeared.

“Uh… yes,” Kay said, not understanding what was going on with Lou.

“See, I knew you were going to say that, I thought ‘I know it’s dark in here, but I haven’t had that much to drink, and I saw her only a couple days ago, so it wasn’t very likely that I misidentified her’, but it was like my brain couldn’t understand what it was seeing.” Lou rambled.

“Hey,” Kay reached out, beaconing her to him, but she took another step back.

“I mean, there’s nothing at all weird or awkward about you and my friend having had sex with the same woman, right? Nothing at all,” Lou clearly didn’t believe what she was saying. “I mean, am I the only one who finds that awkward?”

Jonas was amused by the sight of his friend freaking out. “The real question, Lou, is why does his ex being with Dogan make you so jealous?”

Kay didn’t think it was jealousy that Lou was feeling so he was surprised by her answer.

“I don’t know. I don’t know! I. Don’t. Know. I have no reason to be jealous, it’s ridiculous, it’s immature, and it’s completely unnecessary. But that is apparently the side of the bed I woke up on this morning!”

“This afternoon,” Kay corrected.

Lou turned and squinted at her boyfriend. Kay didn’t smirk or smile, but he held her gaze. Without another word she turned and walked away from them.

Jonas chuckled. “Damn, Stone, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Kay looked at Jonas, a smirk on his face.

“Sassing her while she’s in one of her crazy moods, you must enjoying sleeping alone,” Jonas teased him.

“Nah,” Kay said casually. “I can calm her down again.”

“Well, yeah, with you Psi, that’s just cheating,” Jonas said.

“No, I don’t need my Psi for that,” Kay said, then he sipped his whiskey.

“Bullshit,” Jonas shot back.

Kay just raised an eyebrow at him.

“You could calm her from all that craziness, right now, without your Psi?” The healer asked.

“Yes,” Kay said simply.

“Prove it. Put your money where your mouth is, Stone,” Jonas challenged the empath.

“How much?” Kay asked, amused.

Jonas pulled out his wallet, sifted through the bills, and then slapped a 50 down onto the table. Kay followed suit, pulling the same amount from his wallet and laying on top of Jonas’.

“And you can’t tell her what you’re doing,” Jonas added.

“Of course not,” Kay agreed.

Jonas then gestured to Lou who was sipping her drink and talking to Kiddo and Irma near the dance floor as they watched Dogan and Morgan slow dancing.

“Impress me,” he said.

Kay downed the last of his drink in one glup, winked at Jonas, and got up.

Lou was quietly telling Irma and Tina about how Morgan was Kay’s ex, when familiar hands wrapped around her waist and well-known lips touched her neck.

“Kay!” she scolded him.

He pulled her gently, away from the girls, who watched amused, and then pushed her onto the dance floor from behind.

Lou twisted around in his arms to face him. “What are you doing?”

Kay smiled at her but said nothing, then he rubbed his cheek against hers as he nestled his head down against her neck and shoulder. He put his hands on her waist and slowly began to rock her back and forth to the music.

“Kay Stone, what are you up to?” She asked pushing at him slightly.

He still remained silent, only pressing gentle kisses on her neck and shoulder. Lou sighed as she let him lead her in a slow dance.

“Is this your way of telling me that I’m being too emotional again?” She asked, putting her arms around his neck.

Kay just nuzzled her more.

“Ugh, I see how it is, not even going to talk to me, huh? Alright, well then I’ll just wish you good luck with your quest,” Lou said, somewhat sarcastically.

He rocked her slowly, gently snuggling against her and leaving little kisses now and then. Lou sighed again, turning to press her nose to his cheek, breathing deeply. Kay didn’t shave that morning like he did on work days, he shaved as they were getting ready to come out. So his face was extra soft and smelled wonderfully of aftershave.

“Hey, Lou!” Dogan called to her happily.

Lou raised her head from Kay’s cheek and smiled at her friend, who was now dancing with Morgan next to them.

“Hey, Dogan,” she noted how much happier Morgan looked than the last time Lou saw her.

“I want to introduce you to someone,” her friend said smiling.

“We actually already know each other,” Morgan said.

“We met at work,” Lou explained.

“Oh, of course!” Dogan said.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mademoiselle Parker,” Lou said.

“Just Morgan, please, I hate all that formal shit,” she said.

Lou chuckled. “I understand, please just call me Lou, as well.”

Morgan titled her head looking at Kay still with his head tucked against Lou’s shoulder.

“Is… he okay?” She asked.

Lou smiled and rolled her eyes.

“He’s fine,” she said, stroking his hair.

“What’s he doing?” Dogan whispered.

Lou sighed. “Well, you see, this is just his spot when he believes that I am, to use his term, emotionally dysregulated. This is just him fixing it.”

“His Psi should have fixed it by now,” Morgan said eyeing the back of Kay’s head.

“Oh, he’s not using his Psi,” Lou said.

“Then how?” Morgan blinked several times.

“He’s fixing it with his existence, and with knowledge of how much I love his damn beautiful face tucked right here.” She gently shook his head turning to Kay as she spoke; he let out a muffled chuckle. Lou sighed again.

Morgan chuckled too, Lou look at her and smiled.

“He ruins all my best bad moods,” Lou told Morgan.

“It’s annoying, isn’t it?” Morgan said.

“It certainly can be!” Lou agreed. “But not when he’s tucked right here,” Lou snuggled against his cheek and sighed.

“He’s found your weakness,” Morgan chuckled.

Lou sighed happily, stroking his hair tenderly. “I don’t even mind.”

“You’ve got it bad,” Dogan said, smiling.

“I don’t mind that either,” Lou said.

Kay raised his head and smiled at Lou.

“Oh, am I sufficiently calm now?” Lou asked him.

“Yes,” Kay finally spoke, still smiling.

“And I see you are quite proud of yourself,” Lou teased.

“Well, I did just prove Jonas wrong,” Kay told her.

“How did you do that?” Lou asked, suddenly pleased.

“I told him that I could calm you down without using my Psi,” Kay said.

Lou smiled. “Please tell me you put money on it.”

“50 bucks,” Kay smirked.

“Eh,” Lou breathed out. She pulled him in for a quick kiss. “I’m so proud.”

Kay smiled.

“Now come back here,” she waved her hand towards her shoulder. “I didn’t say you could go.”

Still smiling Kay snuggled back against her shoulder. Lou sighed happily.

“Empath,” she said affectionately.

That’s when the slow song ended and an exciting dance beat came on, Dogan and Morgan started to move off the dance floor. Lou still held Kay against her shoulder, not wanting to let go

“Come on, Lou,” Dogan called.

“We should go sit down,” Kay whispered in Lou’s ear.

She held him tighter. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

“You never have to let me go,” he told her, snuggling her tighter.

“How do you do that?” She asked.

“Do what?”

“Take me from a place of chaos to a place of peace,” she said.

“I just ride the hurricane with you. Without Psi-empathy only you can regulate your emotions. I just offered support.”

Lou pulled him away from her to look at him. “Don’t tell Jonas that.”

Kay chuckled and she smiled at him. Then Kay took her hand and led her back to their table. There was only one chair left. A fact that bothered neither Kay or Lou. Kay sat down first and then Lou sat on the very front of the chair, between his legs.

“Show off,” Jonas said jokingly to Kay, tossing the money at him.

Lou picked up the bills and fanned herald with them.

“I can’t believe you guys were taking bets on each other,” Tina said.

“Kay and I made a bet on my mom and his grandma once,” Lou told Kiddo. “I totally won.”

“You did what?” Kiddo said.

“I bet Kay that it wouldn’t take more than half an hour before my mom and his grandmother started talking about how we should get married. Took 20 minutes,” Lou told them.

“So,” Irma cut in. “Dogan?”

Dogan smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Yes, so everyone, this is Morgan. Morgan, this is Jonas, his sister, Irma, her boyfriend, Tom, Tina, Lou you know, and her boyfriend, Kay.”

Morgan smiled guiltily. “I actually already know Kay too.”

“Oh, sure, from work,” Dogan said.

“Morgan is actually going to help us with an upcoming assignment,” Lou said, shifting the subject slightly. She knew that Dogan should know that Kay and Morgan had been together, but she didn’t think that he needed to found out right now, in front of everyone.

“With The Prior?” Dogan asked.

“He requested her specifically,” Lou said.

There was a chorus of congratulations, Morgan was taken aback, not just by the group’s reaction, but also by Lou talking her up.

“So how did you and Dogan meet anyway?” Lou asked Morgan.

“Working,” Morgan said. Then she told the story of how they met at a car crush that involved a cardinal that she was protecting. “And then he just un-bent the car without anyone getting hurt, it was pretty incredible.”

Dogan blushed. “Well, I don’t know about incredible, but-”

“Shush, it was,” Morgan said.

“It was one of my first crushes actually,” Dogan said.

“Wow, that was a while back,” Lou said.

“Yeah, about four and a half or five years?” Dogan looked at Morgan to confirm.

“Closer to five,” she said.

“Crazy,” Lou said.

“So you are all from the same social group?” Morgan asked. “Except Kay, of course.”

“I’m not,” Irma said. “I’m not a Psionic.”

“But you’re all still friends?” Morgan asked.

“I mean,” Lou interjected. “We’ve thought about kicking Jonas out a few times, but he can be handy now and then.”

“Fuck you,” Jonas said, but the amused tone in his voice didn’t match his words.

“Now, you two, don’t start,” Dogan said.

Jonas lit a cigarette, took a drag and then passed it to Lou. “You remember Dogan at the facility?” He asked Lou.

“Mm,” Lou nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. “Bossy.”

“Exactly,” Jonas agreed, taking the cigarette back from Lou.

“That’s just because the lot of you caused so much trouble! You two especially,” Dogan said, pointing at Lou and Jonas.

“Still bossy,” Lou said, pointing at him.

“And a total drag,” Jonas said, passing the cigarette back to Lou.

“Always the dad of the group,” Tom said, joining in.

“You guys,” Tina said.

“You probably just don’t remember because you were so young,” Lou said, after taking a drag of the cigarette.

“I wasn’t *that* young!” Kiddo said, indignant.

Morgan watch the exchange with amusement while Dogan covered his face with his hand.

Lou blew out some smoke, and then held the cigarette to the side. Kay reached out and took the cigarette out of Lou’s hand. Lou slowly turned to look at him as he put the cigarette in his mouth and slowly breathed it in.

“I’ve been a bad influence on you,” Lou said.

Kay smirked at her before blowing out the smoke and holding the cigarette out to her.

“Give me that,” Lou playfully grabbed the cigarette from his fingers, while he continued to smirk. Lou finished the cigarette off.

“He’s feisty tonight, isn’t he,” Jonas said to Lou of Kay.

“He’s actually like this more often than you’d think,” Lou said, leaning back against Kay’s chest.

“That’s good,” Jonas said, then leaned to the side to see Kay better. “Don’t put up with her shit.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t,” the empath said, smiling.

Lou just rolled her eyes at them both.

“So are you all different ages?” Morgan asked.

“Yep,” Lou said. “Sound off, youngest first.

“18,” Kiddo said.

“21,” Lou said.

“22,” Irma said.

“24,” Tom said.

“26,” Kay joined in.

“27,” Jonas said.

“29,” Dogan said.

“And I’m 29 as well,” Morgan said. “You all just get along so well.”

“We took care of each other while at the facility,” Jonas said.

“We each had a roll in the group and it balanced us out,” Dogan explained.

“Huh,” Morgan didn’t know what to say.

“Are you okay?” Tina asked her.

“I’m just not used to that,” Morgan admitted.

Kay leaned around Lou, wrapping his arms around her, to get closer to Tina.

“Empaths don’t often end up as close to our social groups. People tend to feel uncomfortable around us,” Kay explained.

“You don’t see you social group?” Kiddo asked Kay, looking confused.

“No, they never really liked me,” Kay said, matter-of-factly.

Tina just stared, “What was wrong with them?”

Kay chuckled. “I was younger than all them and they didn’t want a little kid who knew exactly how they were feeling and when they were lying around them.”

“But I’m the youngest, and they all took care of me,” Kiddo said.

Kay smiled at her. “They are better people.”

“And you’re not an empath,” Morgan added.

Tina was clearly upset about this, but said nothing more.

“It bothers me too, Kiddo,” Lou kissed Kay’s cheek.

The group talked for awhile longer before Lou and Kay said they had to go home to get some rest before work the next day.

#rc kay stone #rc psi #romance club psi #rc kay/lou #romance club fanfic #rc fanfic #kay stone #rc lou reed #kaylou #your story interactive

3 notes · View notes

dmagedgoods · 2 years

Note

For the PWOTR fanfic writer ask game! #2, #3, #8, #17

2. Companions: your OC’s favorite person to torment? The kinky or the non-kinky answer? 😏 Ah damn, it may be Daeran either way. Salvadore enjoyed it tremendously in the beginning when Daeran had no choice but to stay – mostly because he would still have this annoying, intriguing aasimar at his side, but also to see him in this new situation and struggle with it. Quite often, he takes pleasure from having him suffer just a tiny bit: by teasing him, by giving him a duty here and there he doesn’t fully like, by finding out if he has the potential to get embarrassed too … Well, since that’s not a fully platonic pleasure and we are in the slightly kinky department now: During certain games, he likes it to withhold things from him for a while he truly likes and wants or needs. No, not just the obvious but also small treats, delicious food, warmth, comfort … It's especially nice because Daeran isn't used to wait for satisfaction. To have him show patience or work for it makes it all the sweeter to give it to him eventually and see the desperation and eagerness with which he takes it. Am I going straight to horny jail again? If the question means torment in a non-gentle and non-loving way: Salvadore has a habit of toying with people should they make the mistake of irritating him. Lady Konomi is not a companion but the one out of the in-game characters who gets that treatment from him. He is very good with words, better than the game allows him to be with most answers, sadly, and he absolutely challenges her on her political views and knowledge all the time and twists it in ways to make her look like a fool (in cases when she doesn’t manage to do that on her own already). 3. Companions: your OC’s platonic best friend? You saw my musings about Regill and Woljif here already. 😊 8. First thing your OC did after closing the Worldwound? And my musings about bathing of course: Here. 17. Your OC’s high point? Oh, he had a few of those. I’ll list them in chronological order again: 1) He was appointed Knight Commander. Yes, Galfrey didn’t know him and it was a ridiculous, irresponsible decision to give a stranger such influence. Still, for some reason her foolish idea led her to the very right person – or that's his opinion of course. He was determined and thrilled to use this chance after all those experiences of running against walls every time he tried to make a difference. 2) Drezen became his city to rule and shape. 3) He realized that those powers, originally coming from the Abyss, were turned into something closer to heaven by his own strength and decided that no one would take them from him. 4) Daeran opened up to him and confessed his love for him in a deeply emotional way. 5) Daeran proposed to him. 6) Deskari, a demon lord, stepped back from him in fear of what he was able to do. He killed him and returned to Drezen victorious, now free from the threat of the world wound too and to actually build his kingdom.

#knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #dmagedtexts #the knight commander #thank you so much!#💕

12 notes · View notes

taiwantalk · 20 days

Text

Trump is gonna be the first former us president to lose election twice and the first to lose while leading in every poll and the first to lose and have a stroke from old age while calling his opponent old and frail.

He’s gonna be the first to go straight to jail without pass after the election.

The truly truly the historical significance is that we collectively now see as self evident is how Jim Crow really emerged.

Jim Crow emerged as the first ever peaceful coup in United States as the south scared the north into letting them back in congress by buying off the Republican Party despite that the later potus was the general that beat the slavery south. And each successive gop potus after Lincoln were worse than the predecessor.

Self evident in that once the peaceful coup happened and that the south was permitted to return to power in congress and to run the states, the south took meticulous time to undo 14th amendment.

Just like right now, this moment, this congress with too many gop in congress and too many gop running the states by gerrymandering (a form of another type of coup), gop is crippling any good potus like grant and biden with any kind of unacceptable shit in otherwise anywhere else in the world but they’re getting away with it because the right wing people don’t give a fuck to reason and are willing to strap themselves with political wmd to shut everything down-everything that’s been working for more than 200 years.

The right wing who takes everything for granted just because they are so narcissistic that they cannot see how they’re the one driving the bomb in their political suicide attacks.

Democratic people of the world, watch and learn that some things in politics are not ever as peaceful as they seem and without long term cost. Watch and learn if America does not emerge from the crazy trump supporters.

The same lame provisional govt of china after 1911 fucked china for a century and so did Russia.

I am not saying that a country needs tyrant or to excuse a newly formed govt to be vicious and kill off oppositions. I mean the “people” must come together and resist the temptation to sell out vulnerable groups for some fake glory.

as Eisenhower said, everyone must participate and engage in politics as civic duty and not let any industrial complex hijack the democratic machinery that’s becoming well running.

#taiwantalk

0 notes

bllsbailey · 2 months

Text

Trump Goes From Court to Campaign, Blames Bragg For NYC Crime

youtube

Former President Donald Trump headed straight from the courtroom to the campaign trail in New York City on Tuesday, accusing the Democrat who is prosecuting him for an increase in violent crime in the Big Apple.

"It's Alvin Bragg's fault," Trump said outside the Sanaa bodega in Harlem, referring to the Manhattan district attorney who has indicted him on 34 counts regarding allegations of falsifying business records to cover an alleged hush money payment to porn star Stormy Daniels. Trump has vehemently denied any wrongdoing.

"Alvin Bragg does nothing," said the presumptive Republican presidential nominee for November's election. "He goes after guys like Trump, who did nothing wrong. Violent criminals, murderers. There are hundreds of murders all over the city. [Prosecutors] know who they are, and they don't pick them up. They go after Trump."

Police data showed crime in New York City dropped 0.77% in 2023 compared to 2022, but it is 33.7% higher than it was in 2019, when bail reform instituted by Bragg led to more criminals being released on the streets, the New York Post reported.

Jury selection for Trump's trial began Monday and seven of the group of 12 jurors and six alternates have been selected.

Bodegas are small convenience stores typically located in lower-income neighborhoods, and many operate 24 hours. Trump's campaign claims the city has failed to uphold public safety for its 13,000 bodegas because of budget cuts to the police force, which it said is on track by 2025 to fall to its lowest numbers since the 1990s.

The one Trump visited Tuesday, at the invitation of the city's Bodega and Small Business Group, is where Jose Alba, a 61-year-old clerk at the time, stabbed to death Austin Simon, 35, who was trying to assault him, on July 1, 2022.

But Alba was arrested for second-degree murder and locked up for days at Rikers Island until his bail was lowered to $250,000. On July 19, 2022, Bragg dropped the charges against Alba, and Alba then filed a federal lawsuit in September against the city for racial discrimination, wrongful prosecution and for jailing him at Rikers Island.

"I respect [the bodega association] and they respect me," Trump said. "They want law and order, and they have a lot of crime, tremendous crime where their stores are being robbed."

A larger picture might be at play here. With growing support among Black and Hispanic voters, Trump said his campaign is making a big play to win New York state, which no Republican presidential candidate has done since Ronald Reagan in 1984.

"We're going to give New York a very good shot for the presidency," Trump said. "We think we should be able to do it."

Trump cited the performance of Republican Lee Zeldin in the 2022 gubernatorial race. Zeldin lost by 6.4 percentage points, the best performance by a GOP candidate since George Pataki won in 2002.

"We're going to come in and No. 1, you have to stop crime and we're going to let the police do their job," Trump said. "They have to be given back their authority. They have to be able to do their job and we're going to come into New York. We're making a big play for New York. Other cities too but this city, I love this city, and it's gone so bad in the last three years, four years, and we're going to straighten New York out."

Michael Katz ✉

Michael Katz is a Newsmax reporter with more than 30 years of experience reporting and editing on news, culture, and politics.

#Youtube

0 notes

endversewinchester · 1 year

Text

Part 2! Wizarding politics.

More Sirius and Ron being the same person.

Pause. I'm very reluctant to say what I'm about to say considering Rowling's world views, but considering her approach in recent interviews is the exact opposite of what I'm about to say I'll say it regardless.

The wizard nazis were taking over very quietly, in the sense they weren't taking the streets openly on broad daylight and killing sharing their views. Or weren't they? Considering to this day, 14 years later people are still spewing racial purity rethoric openly, even the nice wizards? But anyway. The terrorist attacks seemed to happen at night, by cloaked figures rather than the government rounding people up and doing it themselves. People are horrified, and panic is settling in.

In comes the government, playing with the insecurities and fears of the population through an official that echoes the need for more violence to counter the nazis. After all, that is the only way. That official and his views become increasingly popular, and so he becomes more powerful and uses those powers to increase police brutality. He also removes basic human rights (no trials, use of torture for info) from who he considers to be "the enemy" with zero nuance or distinction or fact checking.

This, my friends, is some light fascism. It is ironic because now that her entire personality is being transphobic, JK tried to claim the death eaters are the ones that have this exact stance. Yet here is her ministry. Doing just what she said her bad guys were. ANYWAY.

If she was a good writer. If she knew her canon, this is very close to what THG did. The parallels between the capitol and district 13, each representing the extremes of the far right and the far left. But since I can't concede that to her, I'll not dive deep on this topic.

Just like you.

He's been out for almost a year but the way he's still dissociating... poor Sirius.

I still think this is insane. Mind you, it's the only prison in the wizarding world, regardless of you being a murderer or getting a speeding ticket. You go in there and you get tortured, see others getting tortured and sick and dying in front of you, and you go as far as seeing them be burried, all the while anxiously wondering if you're next.

Sirius deserved better and I want to hug him tightly, but I don't think anyone deserves those conditions.

Lighter topic!

Sirius is a biased narrator on Snape so I can't take his word for it on how evil he was, but it is interesting backstory.

Making a list of Snape's friends for marauders era reference:

Rosier and Wilkes (dead), the Lestranges (so Bellatrix and Rudolph), alive and in jail, and Avery (alive).

Sirius has sympathy for Moody. He doesn't seem fond of police brutality, which is interesting. "Cami he's a former prisoner" yes, but I don't think that's why. He grew up around dark wizards and his brother was a death eater, so there might be a bit of personal bias, and I can count on him being a good person too. We don't turn into what we hate, which is what he was criticizing Crouch for earlier.

More Bertha backstory. On top of her being a few years older than Sirius and James and annoying, she likes gossip. Precisely what the marauders need to avoid, to keep remus safe.

Protective dad is taking absolute no teenager bullshit.

James and Sirius were soulmates. I've said it a million times. I'll say it a million times more. But there is an unhealthy part that comes to play in the next book, where Sirius zeroes in on Harry because Harry is the piece of James he has left, and he won't fail him again. I'll discuss that then. Let me have my momentary happiness.

And last but not least....

Sirius knows what Karkaroff was showing Snape. Even if he didn't during the war, he knows after 12 years in Azkaban. I'm not sure why he didn't want the kids to know about that when he very openly told them about Azkaban and Crouch. He denies it straight away, but you can see he considers telling them before being frustrated and trusting Dumbledore's judgement.

It is interesting he didn't know Snape was a death eater, or so he's telling Harry. I'm not sure how well this holds up because as part of the order Sirius should have known. They had history, and Voldemort regarded Snape so highly. It is very unlikely either one of them was unaware of the other. Is this a plot hole or a plot omission? stay tuned to find out!

#cami reads #goblet of fire

0 notes

popentertainment-moviereviews · 2 years

Photo

TRICK OR TREAT SCOOBY-DOO! (2022)

Featuring the voices of Frank Welker, Grey DeLisle, Matthew Lillard, Kate Micucci, Myrna Velasco, Anthony Carrigan, Dee Bradley Baker, Jeff Bennett, Erin Fitzgerald, David Lodge, Lara Jill Miller, Candi Milo, Jenelle Lynn Randall and Kevin Michael Richardson.

Screenplay by Audie Harrison, Laura Pollak and Daniel McClellan.

Directed by Audie Harrison.

Distributed by Warner Animation. 77 minutes. Rated G.

Jinkies! Another Scooby-Doo! movie!

Since the original series Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! started running in 1969, the gang from the Mystery Machine has crossed decades and generations of fans, mixing comedy, pop music and classic monster frights into a fun-filled romp. Over the years, the characters have spawned 16 (!!!) different TV series, as well as nearly 40 (!!!) movies – both animated and live action, made for TV, straight to video, or theatrical.

Zoinks!

This latest movie is pretty standard fare, a lot of fun but not exactly pushing the envelope that much. Trick or Treat Scooby-Doo! does make some concessions to modern edginess – particularly by chastely acknowledging that Velma Dinkley is probably a lesbian, or at the very least bi-curious. (Note to people who are just itching to be offended just because of this storyline: Velma’s sexuality is not really delved on, it’s all done rather matter-of-factly.)

It also plays around with the gender politics of the Mystery Machine gang – even though no one seems to know what exactly it is that Daphne does for the gang other than being pretty, it turns out that she’s sort of the behind-the-scenes leader of the group.

However, for the most part, Trick or Treat, Scooby-Doo! is just a loving – if slightly post-modern – celebration of the old series – particularly the classic first season.

Trick or Treat also erases the turn-of-the-new-millennium tendency to make the monsters real, instead making them mostly people in monster costumes. And every one of them says when caught a variation of, “And I would have gotten away with it too, if not for those meddling kids and their dog.

In fact, the main villain is indeed the costumer who created all of the classic monsters over the years – including the Spooky Space Kook, The Black Knight, The Ghost Diver and The Ghost Clown, all of whom appear in this film. This super-villain/seamstress is Coco Diablo, a Eurotrash-pretty designer who has apparently been costuming all of the monsters locally for decades (even though she looks no more than 25 years old). She is also the person who Velma gets a crush on.

When the Mystery Inc. kids put the designer in jail, suddenly all of their cases dry up. After a year of saving cats from trees, they are desperate for work. And when a group of ghosts – all of which seem to be ancestors of the gang – shows up, they jump at the chance for a real case. They also get help from the jailed Coco and a fanboy prison warden.

The trick and the treat about Trick or Treat Scooby-Doo! is that the movie works equally well for young fans just discovering the characters or long-time followers who are just watching for the nostalgic rush. There are plenty of Easter eggs to keep adults happy mixed with lots of creeps and comedy for younger viewers. The movie isn’t trying to reinvent the franchise, just tweak it enough to keep everyone engaged.

And they got away with it too, those meddling kids and their dog.

Jay S. Jacobs

youtube

#Trick or Treat Scooby-Doo!#2022 #Video Review #Frank Welker #Jay S. Jacobs

0 notes

sondepoch · 3 years

Text

One Night (Marius x Reader)

Teaching a Billionaire to Touch Grass (And a Minimum Wage Worker to Treat Herself)

Marius clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at 2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“Okay,” he seethes, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the traffic around him grows impossible slower. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “We’re going to talk about how inappropriate this was.”

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

MASTERLIST

The car is silent.

As Marius gets inside, he thinks that this might be the first time he’s not opening the passenger door seat for a lady partner, the first time he’s allowed himself to stalk straight into the driver's seat and angrily wait for his passenger to enter on their own.

Actually, he thinks, this is also the first time in years that he's actually driving. The first time someone managed to call for him so late that even his chauffeur was off-duty.

“I’m really sorry about this, Sir,” you mumble as you climb into the seat next to him, apologies never halting as you ramble on and on and on like an idiot who can't read a room. “I, ah, didn’t think this would happen, I'm so…”

Marius ignores you.

He glances out the passenger window and catches Darius Morgan’s equally-annoyed gaze. Seriously? the man seems to be asking, an unimpressed look crossed over his face as he eyes you through the car window. I don’t fucking know, Marius’s gaze says back, and he shakes his head the slightest as he starts the car.

“What’s your address?” he asks, interrupting your apologies. Propriety should make him feel somewhat embarrassed over the way he's acting, but he can’t bring himself to be even a little polite right now.

“It’s by the Harbor. Um, if you go straight on Main Street and turn right at the—”

“Forget it,” Marius interrupts you. He taps the small car screen on his right, opening up the GPS interface. “Just type it in. I’ll drop you off.”

Your face falls at his irate voice, but you wisely don't comment on it, instead typing in your address as he asked. He watches you cautiously the whole time, for once not caring about the performance anxiety his gaze naturally brings to everyone he looks at. To your merit, you don't mess up anymore than you already have, deft fingers moving with the preciseness he’s used to seeing from you, but the skill can hardly impress him after you called him to pick you up from here, of all places. As the GPS routing sequence activates, Marius lets out an annoyed huff. This is not where he wanted to be right now.

Then, the car hums to life as he presses down on the accelerator, and he’s speeding in the direction of your home, trying to abandon his anger with the jailhouse the two of you are leaving.

I should be at home right now, he thinks as he moves onto the highway. He thinks about how long it had taken for him to coordinate this night off from Vyn’s tutoring sessions, Pax’s board meetings, his schoolwork, and the NXX’s meetings. I should be sleeping, or painting, or calling Rosa, or—

“Fuck,” he mutters when traffic begins to slow down.

He’s in a traffic jam.

So much for sleeping. And painting. And calling Rosa.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at—Marius glances at the car’s dashboard—2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

He keeps his glare fixated on the road, knowing that if he shoots you with the same thunderous look he uses to fire people, you’ll probably be too terrified to speak. Still, when you finally start talking, he can sense the fear in your voice.

His grip on the steering wheel softens the slightest.

“I, ah, initially was planning on calling Mr. Vincent. But he—”

“Really?” Marius snaps. “You’re his assistant, right?” Marius thinks back to all the times he stalked into Pax Headquarters only to see Vincent there with his morning coffee in hand and you, always three feet behind, holding Vincent’s work files. The Board of Directors criticized Marius for allowing his assistant to have an assistant, but never did he imagine you to be so…

Incompetent, he wants to say. Foolish might be a better word for it, though.

“Ah, yes. His administrative assistant.”

“And you want me to believe,” Marius huffs, “That the first person you wanted to call to bail you out of jail was the man you’re an administrative assistant to?”

Traffic gets ever slower, and Marius’s car rolls to a complete stop.

“Yes,” you whisper, and you start wringing your fingers in a manner so sheepish that Marius almost wants to believe you. Almost. “I, ah, was going to call him first. But then I remembered that his vacation started last night and that he’s already left Stellis. So I figured that if I called him, he’d just call you, so I…”

He wouldn’t call me, Marius thinks. Vincent is smart enough to find someone else to pick you up from jail. Regular people don’t ask these kinds of favors from their boss. Especially not from their boss's boss.

“Do you know that people usually ask their friends for these things?” Marius asks. Some of his anger seeps away when he realizes how apologetic you actually are, and he moves forward in traffic the slightest. “Or family, perhaps. What you did was…” Marius tries to find a kinder word than completely inappropriate. “Was highly unusual.” He sighs. “Why didn’t you ask someone else?”

He stares at you through the corner of his eye. You’re pursing your lips, holding back tears. Again, his gaze softens.

“I don't have anyone else,” you whisper.

Marius thinks it’s strange for you to imply that you even have him, especially when he’s nothing more to you than a high-level corporate executive, one that you’ve never spoken directly to in your entire life, but he doesn’t press you any further.

Releasing the final remnants of his anger in a soft sigh, he switches lanes and decides to pull into the nearest exit.

“Darius said you were in that cell since yesterday afternoon. You haven’t had dinner yet, right?”

“No, but…”

“This traffic isn’t going anywhere. We may as well get you something to eat.”

He exits easily, pulling into a district of Stellis that he’s never been in before, and ignores your quiet sniffle.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Earlier, he was ignoring you out of spite. Now, he doesn’t respond because he wants to preserve your dignity.

As he focuses his attention on the district he's pulled to, ignoring the GPS which vehemently opposes everything he's doing, Marius realizes that he's pulled into a rather poor sector of Stellis. It’s filled with unhealthy fast food joints, late-night drunkards, and a bunch of loiterers who are eyeing his high-end car suspiciously.

After driving around and surveying the options, Marius sighs.

“The only places open are these fast-food restaurants,” he says, cleanly leaving out the option of getting food from a club or anywhere else a tabloid might be able to snap a picture. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah!” you chirp, and Marius finds that your smile is oddly sweet. “Ah, would you be okay with that one over there? I go there a lot, and their food is...better than other fast food places.”

Marius squints at you for a moment. He tries to recall your salary, and when he fails, he thinks of Vincent’s. Surely, you make a similar wage? You shouldn’t need to frequent fast-food restaurants like this, right?

Shaking his head, he decides not to ask about it. Things like where you eat are your business, not his, and it’s not his place to question you on your personal decisions.

He pulls up to the drive-through, somewhat relieved to find that the dine-in option isn’t even available at this hour, and lets you order whatever you want. You end up taking a meager meal, one that Marius doubts will actually fill your stomach when he can hear it growling so loudly, so when you turn to him and ask what he’ll get, he orders some fries in hopes that he can hand them off to you in case you’re still hungry.

Minutes later, the two of you are parked on the side of the road with your respective meals in your laps. Only once you’ve finished (and after Marius is starting to pawn his fries off to you, finding that they’re rather unappealing to his pallette) does he think it’s appropriate to actually breach the subject of why you were tossed in jail.

“So,” he drawls, listening to the cool hum of the air conditioner. “Drugs, huh?”

He hears you choke on a fry.

“Th-they weren’t mine!” you blurt. “Honest, Sir, they—”

“Relax,” he says, eyes flitting down. “I’m not going to have you fired over this. Vincent wouldn’t want that. If anything, the court will decide.”

You relax a little at that, but Marius can sense that you’re still on edge.

“I...appreciate that a lot, Sir. But, really, the drugs weren’t mine. I—I’m sure there’s video evidence to prove that. I was just coming home from work when a kid told me to hold onto this bag, and—”

Marius lifts an eyebrow. He may be out of touch with the realities of the common class, but even he knows how ridiculous your story is.

“I didn’t take it, though! He handed it to me and I put it on the ground! But...but an officer saw me put it on the ground and assumed it was mine...and then...you know what happened.”

Marius sighs. You've always been a good, low-profile worker. He has no reason to believe that you'd get involved with anything bad: but he can't help but doubt you. When he next speaks, his voice is laced with hesitance. “Is there anything to prove your innocence? Pax can help get you a good lawyer, but without evidence, it’ll—”

“There is!” Your eyes are too determined to be anything other than sincere. “Or, ah, there should be. It happened right outside my apartment. I’m sure someone there has surveillance footage of what happened.”

Marius ignores the quiet “hopefully” you add to the end of that.

“Alright,” he says, deciding that it’s not his place to decide whether or not he believes your story. “Tell me how you got my private number, then. Pax employees shouldn’t have access to that information.”

“Oh, ah…”

Your gaze turns sheepish. Marius grows even more interested in your response.

“Mr. Vincent had it written down a couple months ago. I accidentally saw it. I tried to forget, but…”

You seem to be kicking yourself over the blunder, but Marius is impressed. A mind that can remember something months after having seen it only once is a valuable thing, he thinks. It’s a waste for someone with your brain to be working as a mere assistant’s assistant.

“I’m really—”

“It’s okay,” Marius says. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m...not mad at you.”

And somehow, he really isn’t angry anymore.

The two of you finish your meal soon enough, Marius having successfully pressed his fries into your hands. It seems that you really are hungry because you down those in a manner of minutes, and the man almost regrets not having ordered more when he hears your stomach still grumbling beneath the hum of the car as he returns to the highway.

As Marius lets the GPS guide him back onto Stellis’s most frequented roads, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that all traffic is gone. He speeds down the road with a renewed vigor, somehow sidestepping the usual sleepiness that overcomes him during these kinds of drives with your idle commentary of the road, little mentions of “I once saw a turtle here” and “there used to be four lanes here, but they changed it to five” and “this mile-post had the wrong number on it for years before I reported it and highway patrol got it changed.”

If anything, there’s a faint smile on his face when he finally pulls off the freeway, almost amused by your quiet chit-chat.

“Is this the right neighborhood?” Marius asks as he pulls into one of Stellis’s residential districts.

“Yeah, it’s just a little further down.” You gather your purse in your lap and thank Marius for the umpteenth time.

“It's okay,” he says, slowing down. The apartments are looking poorer, now, dingier, but he tries not to let that show on his face. “Is it here?”

“Right at the end of the street,” you say, and with only a mildly concerned look on his face, Marius drives you further down the road.

His eyebrows furrow as he realizes what kind of neighborhood you live in, and he wonders if your wage truly is so poor that you have to live here, of all places. The apartment complexes here are unrenovated, a disappointing amount of them sporting broken glass or graffiti on them. Litter covers the grounds, and even in the thick, 3-AM darkness, Marius can make out hundreds of beer cans scattered across the lawns. Bushes are either dying or overgrown, and there are cigarette butts everywhere.

Marius realizes that between his suit, his car, and his three earrings, he might have more money on him than everyone who lives here combined.

“Which...which of these apartments is yours?”

He looks around warily, quietly hoping that you’ll say it’s none of them.

“Ah, it’s the first window on the second floor of that…” you trail off as your pointer finger lands on an apartment where all lights are lit—and three masked figures stand illuminated, clearly ransacking your house.

“Oh my god,” Marius blurts, already getting his phone out. “You’re getting robbed, what the—”

“No, no!” You’re quick to place a hand on Marius’s arm before he can dial Emergency Services. “Those are, ah, just the neighborhood boys. They...they do bad things, but they’re good kids. Don’t worry. I’ll chase them out in no time, you don’t have to—”

“Are you serious?” Marius asks, dumbfounded. “This—how can you go back to a home like that? You could die, or—or—”

“Sir,” you say, looking him in the eyes with more seriousness than he’s seen from you this entire night. “With all due respect, this is the best I can afford.”

Marius falls silent at that.

You open the door silently, casting your eyes down. “Thank you again for everything,” you murmur. “I...I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to make sure it never happens again.”

But then, Marius thinks about the weak story you gave to him earlier, where you claimed that someone handed you drugs and then left you with them, and he wonders whether it might have actually been true. Whether this neighborhood, with its burglars and alcoholism and litter, could actually present you with that reality. Whether something like that may happen again to you, or, worse, Marius thinks as he glances back into your apartment at the three masked robbers, if you could actually get hurt.

Against all better judgment, his arm snaps out. He grips your wrist instantly, not thinking about propriety or class divisions or economic status or anything other than you, one of his company’s employees, and your safety.

“Don’t go there,” he blurts. When he realizes that you’re not tearing your arm free of him, he speaks again. “At least, not while they’re there. I’ll come back here with you tomorrow to make sure you can return in a safe environment, and—”

“Sir, I can’t just get a hotel or—”

“I have two guest bedrooms. You can take your pick. Just—ah—” Marius glances out the window at the poor neighborhood you live in, and he winces. “I can’t let you go home to this. Not...not while there are robbers in your house. Please understand.”

“This...this kind of problem doesn’t just go away,” you mumble, but Marius relaxes when he sees your grip on the door loosen. “And besides, it really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to stay in your apartment.”

“Most people wouldn’t call it appropriate to call your company’s CEO to bail you out of jail,” Marius jokes, but the humor of it is lost on you.

“I…”

Your face falls.

“A—that was a joke,” Marius stutters. “I was joking.”

“Right.”

The atmosphere of the car goes awkward, made even worse by the GPS’s automated reminder that your destination is on the left, but the more Marius looks out his window, the more he decides that he can’t possibly let you return to this apartment. He’ll give you a raise if he has to, but this is something no one should be subject to.

“Alright,” you finally relent after Marius makes it clear that he won’t speak unless it’s to plead with you more. “Just for one night.”

“Just for one night,” Marius agrees, already planning how he can make sure that you have a better home to return to than this one for all future nights to come.

#Word Count: 2.7k #female reader #tw: robbery #Tears of Themis #tot #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis marius #tears of themis lu jinghe #marius x reader #lu jinghe x reader #billionaire x poor girl #part of a series #i have extremely mixed feelings about this piece so eh #more to come in this hopefully

245 notes · View notes

aromantic-enjolras · 3 years

Text

Professor Grantaire Part II: ExR Edition

This is a two-parter about @p-trichor and mine’s headcanons about Grantaire as a university professor: if you want to read more, here you have the first part.

For all he talks, there isn’t really that much information on Grantaire’s personal life. And then, one day his students receive an e-mail stating “all classes for tomorrow are cancelled, I have to go get my husband out of jail - again”.

The queer students are like “you have a husband????” and Grantaire is actually kind of offended. "I can’t believe you thought I was straight. For God’s sake, just look at me. No, seriously. Tell me what made you think I was straight so that I can change it.”

He spends the next three lectures talking about queer interpretations of Greek myths in retaliation.

The students make bets on who is the mysterious husband. A lot of them think it’s the lanky Physics professor with the glasses who he eats lunch with every day, while others are convinced it’s the cheery Asian guy with the cane who comes to visit him in his office so often. Some even think it’s a known criminal or a mafia boss, because what was that about “again”??

At the same time, there is this story of a blond activist who got arrested for trying to stage a takeover of the Parliament, and the dates align a little too well...

The day after someone added two and two, Grantaire gets to class saying “okay, kids, I know I’m not the most strict professor out there, but sending me e-mails at four in the morning going “you go, prof, your husband is hot” is pushing it a bit.”

On the other hand, some of his most political students are in shock. Their rambly, unkempt, cynical professor is married to Enjolras??? The Enjolras? HOW??

They do beg him to invite Enjolras for a conference, though. And they brag to all their friends about it.

At the same time, their opinions of him change drastically. A lot of them were convinced he was right wing, but now his rants about "foolhardy activists putting themselves in danger without good enough reason" take a different meaning.

Hope you liked it! ^^

#Les Misérables #text posts #my posts #headcanons #my headcanons #Grantaire #Enjolras #ships #ExR #Combeferre #Joly #alternate universe #modern au #Academia

133 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Warnings: noncon/rape, mentions of prostitution, bullying/humiliation, coercion.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bail your mother out but you still owe the sheriff.

Based on these drabble requests:

Lee Bodecker + “I could crush your throat right now.” + Humiliation/bullying + y/n is the daughter of the town's hooker, but she is nothing like her mother, everyone is mean to her just because her mom's work . Lee have fun with her just bc for him she is the same trash as her mother. requested by anonymous.

You could still smell the alcohol on your mother. Her hair and clothes stank of it and the stale piss of the county jail cell. It made your eyes water, just like the glares of the townsfolk as you left the precinct.

They all knew, it was a small place, how could they not? They saw you almost every week bringing your ma out those doors, another twenty dollars to the station to set her free so she could do it all again. The same spite and disgust in their stares, the same judgment bearing down on you like a coyote on a barn cat.

“What happened to the grocery store?” you asked your ma quietly, “you said you wouldn’t do this no more. You don’t need to, ma. We got food, a roof--”

“Johnny Hatton gave me a whole bottle of whiskey,” she said, her voice still thick from the alcohol, “and for what, five minutes with my hand.”

“I don’t need to hear that,” you scowled and kept your head down as Gerry, the butcher, spat at your feet as you passed, “you want some drink, I can buy you drink, ma, but you shouldn’t be gettin’ so drunk, neither.”

“Gail fired me,” she grumbled and you kept her up before she could tumble, “found the bottle in my bag. Now I was gon’ pay for it before I left--”

You sighed and came to a stop at the corner as a car drove in front of you. You waited and watched the tail light. You took a step off the curb and nearly hit the side of the cruiser as it pulled up. The sheriff bent to meet your eye from the other end of the seat and you clung to your mother.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

“She just got out, sheriff, we’re just on our way home,” you said quietly. It was often Sheriff Bodecker who signed over your ma to you but that morning had been a cadet.

“Easier with some wheels under ya,” he said.

You sniffed and looked around. He was never overly friendly, the stern officer and his wide-brimmed hat put fear into most around, even when they hadn’t committed an offense. And like many in the town, he laughed at your ma and you, even asked you once or twice if you took after her.

“It’s not far,” you said, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Nonsense,” his door swung open and he closed it heavily, “lemme help ya.” He came around and opened the back door, “you put her in here and take the front. She’s barely on her feet,” he took your mother’s other arm and angled her under the roof of the car, “whew, she smell like a sill.”

You held your tongue as your mother slumped across the leather and he shut the door. You stared at the side of the car and he touched your arm, “go on and get in, missy.”

You drew away from him and he pulled open the door. You ducked your head down and sat on the passengers side. He got in beside you and drove back out onto the street, easing into the sleepy small town traffic.

You were quiet; nervous. You didn’t know the sheriff to be a generous man, no one would ever say that of him. Your ma had sown a lot of discord in the town and you were no stranger to the bitterness that you inherited. Of all the people, Sheriff Bodecker should be most offended by her back alley antics.

“What’s a matter, missy?” he asked as he steered.

You shook your head and stared out the window. He stopped and tutted.

“Ya know, a lawman ask you a question and you should answer,” he warned, “now why you so quiet?”

“I don’t talk much, sir,” you shrugged.

“But you got a tongue,” he said, “and you fidgeting something awful over there.”

“I… just don’t know why you offer a ride,” you muttered, “ain’t no one round let my ma in their backseat, no even for a dime.”

“You looked like you needed help. I’m the sheriff, my job is to help,” he drove on and turned down your street.

“I suppose,” you said, “thank you.”

“See, now was that so hard?” he asked, “a thank you’s all I wanted.”

He pulled up in front of the ramshackle house you and your ma lived in. You got out without thinking and opened the back door. The other side opened and he grabbed your ma and dragged her out with his arms under hers. You tried to catch her ankle but he had her on her feet quickly, though she was swaying and half-unconscious.

“You show me where to put her,” he said as he kicked the door shut.

“I can take her,” you came around to him, “thank you, sheriff.”

“Nah, you go on and get the door, I can handle her a lot better than you, missy,” he said, “got a bit more brute in me.”

You held in a sigh and went around him. He turned and followed you up the slanted steps and you unlocked the front door. He lifted her feet and carried her over the threshold. You didn’t want him coming too far in so you backed up and watched him enter the front room.

“Just there on the sofa,” you pointed to the sagging cushions, “that’s fine.”

“Alright,” he crossed the room and put her down, he dusted off his hands on his pants as he stood straight.

He looked around and removed his hat, his fingertips tapping on his pudgy stomach as he mused at the pale interior. He clicked his tongue and turned to you again.

“Well, I know your ma ain’t much of a housekeeper but it only polite to offer a guest something to drink,” he said, “something for my trouble.”

You put your purse on the chest of drawers by the door and crossed your arms. You teetered on the balls of your feet.

“I got milk or tea, sheriff,” you said, “tap water?”

“Tea,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind something to warm me up.”

You nodded and slipped past him. You went to the kitchen and moved the kettle onto the burner. You turned on the gas and heard his boots on the floor as he appeared in the doorframe. You looked up at him and carried on, searching for some leaves in the cupboard.

You sensed him getting closer and he came up behind you. His arms snaked under yours as you reached up and moved aside the cans and boxes. He cupped your tits and pushed you against the counter. You dropped your hands to his and tried to tear them away from your chest.

“What’re you doin’?” you gasped as you wrestled with him.

“I’d say you owe me,” he rocked you against the counter, “wouldn’t you?”

“Please, let go of me,” you begged, “I’m makin’ you tea--”

“I don’t want tea,” his hand crawled down and he yanked at your skirt, “like mother like daughter, huh? You know how to pay a man.”

“Stop,” you slapped his hand and he ignored you.

He spun your around and your head swam from the suddenness of it. He scooped you up easily and sat you on the counter as he pushed between your knees. He shoved your skirt up as you fought to keep the hem down. You kicked out around him as he reached for your knickers.

“Sheriff!” you cried out.

“You wan’ wake your ma?” he growled, “let her know she taught you well? If she can even be woke.”

He snickered and tore your underwear down your legs, moving back only to get them past your ankles. He slid quickly between your legs again and pulled your closer. He grabbed your jaw and squeezed as his other hand fumbled with his belt. You whined and writhed against him.

“Now, you stay still,” his hand went to his holster, “don’t make me do anything rash, missy. I could crush your throat right now.”

“Please, sheriff,” you grabbed his wrist as he held your chin.

“You already beggin’ me, missy,” he pushed his zipper down and stepped closer as he pulled himself out above his underwear, “now let’s not get too loud or you’ll be disturbin’ the neighbours.”

He poked against your cunt as he slid you closer and reached between you to line himself up. He pushed into you with a sharp thrust and you exclaimed. His grip tightened on your jaw as your lips parted and he covered your mouth with his.

He tilted his hips painfully against you, lifting you slightly off the counter as he did. He nibbled your lip as his hand wandered down to grope your chest again. His breath hitched as he fucked you and you were surrounded by his heat. You quivered as each crash of his pelvis hurt worse than the last.

“That’s it, missy,” he purred and bent your leg around him, “just like that. Move them hips, girl.”

#dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #the devil all the time #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dark drabble #drabble #request #dark!drabble

407 notes · View notes

diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

The Heist- Part One

dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

You were just supposed to rob a government official’s apartment. Not Captain America’s. Right?

Series Warnings: Dark, Rape/Non-Con, kidnapping, strip club stuff, swearing

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of a strip club, swearing, committing crime ig, nothing much really.

You sure as hell weren’t a criminal. Well- your record would say otherwise, but it’s not like this was your dream profession. You wouldn’t call yourself a criminal. More of a Walmart Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving too...well...yourself. Fine. You were a criminal. But a girl had to pay the bills. At least you got to stick it to the man, right?

You let out a sigh while evaluating your life choices. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream to be breaking into houses and apartments for some cash or valuable possessions. Technically, you were an artist by day, going to art school in New York, living the aesthetically pleasing dream of student loans and a sky-high rent that your shifts at the strip club were hardly making a dent in. But hey, at least one time you got to dance for Captain America, even if he was reluctant and a bit shy. You were certain very few women could say the same.

And that’s how you found yourself in the elevator of a cozy apartment complex, traveling upward toward your new objective. Bella, your roommate, literal partner in crime, and the only good thing that came out of socializing with your coworkers at the club, had given you a new lead of a man who was supposedly loaded and yet lived in an accessible and modest living space. He was single, and worked some sort of political job that left his apartment constantly vacant, specifically on the day you planned for your heist. A perfect target. Some corrupt government worker who wanted to live a ‘low profile life’ yet was dumb enough to settle down in a complex who’s only security was a couple cameras and guards. Bella would easily be able to freeze the frames on the cameras for an hour, giving security the false pretense that the hallways were empty and giving you the perfect window to snatch some fancy watches and some cash.

The elevator doors opened right as you received a text message from Bella.

Cameras taken care of. Now go pay our rent ;)

You exited the elevator only to collide with a blonde woman carrying a laundry basket.

“Oh god, I’m so clumsy I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed while bending down to pick up the clothes that had fallen out of the basket.

You bent down to help her collect her clothing. “No, I’m so sorry! That was completely my fault!” You offered a smile as you stood back up, but was met with a calculating gaze as she studied you.

“I’m sorry, are you new around here?” She seemed to catch herself and her demeanor changed. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you around here before.” She gave a small smile.

“Oh ,I’m just a girlfriend!” you replied. “Just stopping by.”

“Are you Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked while gesturing to the door at the end of the hallway with her head. It was your target’s door. So the political scumbag’s name was Steve. Lovely. “I don’t think he’s home right now.”

Your brain churned out a fast response. “Yeah, I know. Unfortunately for me, he’s always working. I just left my purse, and he gave me his keys to stop by and pick it up.”

“Well I’m just glad he’s found someone with all his work. I know it’s been hard for him.”

The two of you exchanged one last goodbye smile before she stepped into the elevator.

“I’m Sharon by the way. And you are...?”

“Olivia,” you replied, the fake name came out as a second nature as the elevator doors closed.

You let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Well that could’ve gone worse,” you mutter to yourself as you approach the door at the end of the hallway.

You slipped the lock picker out of your sleeve before checking your surroundings cautiously. A minute after proceeding to insert the pick into the lock, a soft click resounded from the wooden door, and it easily swung open with a turn of the knob.

As you entered through the doorway, you took into account the little bits of vintage decoration that was dispersed amongst more modern furniture. A small Uncle Sam poster, a couple of war antiques, and some old photos with figures that remained unrecognizable in the distance. This government official seemed to have fought either in World War II or Vietnam, probably making him old. You shuddered at the fact you’d called yourself his girlfriend, but Sharon hadn’t seemed to bat an eye. Either way, you didn’t care for antiques, as much as they would have sold for a hefty price. They were probably personal to him and as you walked around, you realized there were quite a few personal items that were no use for you. As you walked into the bedroom a glint from the dresser caught your eyes, and your chest filled with giddiness and excitement as you neared. Three beautiful watches were on display under the mirror that sat atop the dresser. A Cartier that would probably sell for 8,000, a Rolex that would go for 10,000 easily, and then a beautiful older Rolex. With careful hands you snatched up the two newer watches and placed them into the small knapsack you’d been carrying. After consideration, you decided to leave the older one as it probably held a sentimental value and wouldn’t give you as much money as the other two.

You walked around some more, occasionally picking up valuables like solid gold tie clips and little pieces of Stark technology, which you were surprised he had. You had to be filthy rich to support, much less afford, anything made by that war profiteer. You picked up stashes of cash lying around, which seemed to be a lot. This man definitely seemed to use cash more than credit card which wasn’t as common around people your age. As you were rummaging around his study for any pieces of fine art (which you had already gotten two of) or government documents you could sell on the black market, you knocked over a picture frame which had landed on a file that read CLASSIFIED in red letters...right under the six letters that spelled S.H.I.E.L.D. This fucker was a S.H.I.E.L.D official. You were gonna kill Bella for the vague intel.

“Shit I need to get out of here,” you mumbled. Senators and representatives were fine targets, all usually too old and skeevy for you to care about, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. official was dangerous and could get you somewhere worse than jail. Hell, you could’ve accidentally broken into Nick Fury’s place. You were screwed. So screwed. And you needed to get the hell out of this apartment. As you went to put the picture back, you glanced at it, before doing a double take and squinting at it in the dark room. Oh. This was much worse than accidentally breaking into Nick Fury’s place.

The two men laughing with an arm around each other in war uniforms with an arm around one another was innocent enough until you could finally make out their faces. Steve Rogers an easy enough one to make out, especially considering you were on his lap a couple weeks ago, and James Buchanan Barnes looked practically unrecognizable without a murderous glare on his face.

“No,” you muttered before quickly placing the picture back down.

You once again assessed your surroundings. It all made sense. The subtle 1940’s vibe, the war antiques. Bella had said he did work for the government and that wasn’t a lie. In the corner of the room you spotted a large circular leather case that was partially unzipped. Through the slight opening of the brown leather, the red, blue, and glinting bright silver was unmistakable.

“No, no, no, fuck,” you muttered frantically as you checked your watch. You still had 38 minutes before the security cameras in the hall unfroze. That was enough time to put everything you stole back. You’d much rather work open to close shifts at the club every day for three months straight than get fucked over by Captain Fucking America.

You scrambled out of the study, moving to the living room first to put back the authentic paintings. You grabbed a stool from the high bar counter in the kitchen so you could rehang the medium sized work of art. Your mind was racing. This had to be karma for all the horrible shit you’d done in the past. God decided he had enough of your delinquent shenanigans and set you marching straight into the arms of America’s righteous hero. As you finished hanging the painting you spun around on your heel, completely forgetting you were on a wobbly wooden stool. Your heart stopped for a moment before you regained your footing. Carefully climbing down the stool, you almost missed the subtle turn of a lock coming from the door.

Oh you were so done for. Your limbs flew everywhere as you scrambled to the bedroom, sliding under the bed right as you heard the door open. The rumble of Steve Roger’s voice was clear as he talked on the phone and it cut through the walls from the living room.

“Well yea Buck, obviously Tony’s gonna be a little cold toward you. Not that I blame him. I’m just thankful he didn’t start an entire civil war over it. I guess it’s just a good thing we’re not war criminals.” He let out a chuckle before pausing. “Hey Buck? Yeah. I’m gonna have to call you back.” Another pause and you heard some rummaging around. “Why? I think my apartment was just broken into. I gotta go down to security. Yeah, thanks bud.”

Steve hung up and you heard some angry muttering as he walked into his room. From under the bed you saw his tennis shoes and dark jeans as he paced at the foot of the bed. You covered your mouth to stop your anxious breathing, afraid he’d hear you from your hiding spot.

The few minutes he spent in his room felt like eternity before he stomped out and you heard the opening and closing of another door as he exited the apartment. You crawl out from under the bed, your head spinning as you attempted to think of a way out of your predicament.

The window.

Quickly and quietly, you stood up and made your way to his bedroom window, looking out for a fire escape and letting out an annoyed huff when you saw none.

‘Maybe there’s one for the living room window,’ your brain chimed.

You rushed to the living room, scooping up the two watches and your empty knapsack on your way, and almost screamed with joy at the sight of the fire escape next to the window. Your fingers curled around the bottom of it and give it a sharp tug up, opening it just enough for you to squeeze through.

Just as you were about to lift your leg over the ledge and climb down the stairs to sweet sweet freedom, being able to forget about everything that ever happened tonight, a large hand wrapped around the back of your neck and wrenched you back with such force that you tumbled backwards and landed on your butt.

He was massive. Six feet of pure muscle towered over you as you trembled from your position on the floor. He squatted down, resting his elbows on his knees as he took you in, blue eyes practically cutting through the darkness, and you let out a small whimper.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?”

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader

190 notes · View notes