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#half-assed messing with filters at 2 am it is
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Created for @tonystarkbingo
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weskin-time · 2 years
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stoner leon
Stoner!Leon Kennedy Headcanons
i feel like this is a demand and not an ask and it’s making my laugh my ass off. like this anon has a gun against my head telling me to write. i love it so much
once again basing most of these off my own stoner experiences
i’m not saying leon needs to smoke weed but my gods this man would benefit from it
leon honey you’ve been through so much please smoke a little weed and just relax please
RE2 leon would not smoke weed
if he did he’d probably freak out and have to go to the hospital cuz he think he’s dying (my brother did that once and it was the funniest thing ever)
lightweight
smokes half a joint and is zooted to the fucking moon and back
prefers edibles more than anything you have to smoke
bowls are his enemy. he’s burnt himself with the lighter one too many times (same) and hates the taste of resin
he might not like them but i am 100% confident he rolls the best joints. they’re so clean and he packs the just right.
prefers pens as his way of smoking. he’s not a very big fan of the burning of the throat
i feel like he’s the silent type when smoking. he just kinda sits there and enjoys the ride
he will text Ada that it feels like his bones are made of water and then not respond to any of her questions
he prefers a body high than a head high
he just wants to relax and sleep. he’s no longer sore, the bruises don’t bother him, he’s just vibing
HE WATCHES BABY SENSORY VIDEOS OF THE DANCING FRUIT.
those videos are so magical. my friend spent the night once and we got blitzed and watched them till we realized it had been 2 hours
he twitches. it’s completely normal but he thinks he’s gonna die
he’s the type to have a good high turn into a bad high at the drop of a dime but forgets about it and goes back to eating
he may be silent but he texts people the most mind numbing shit ever and giggles at his phone.
Chris is half way across the world and just gets a text at 2 am leon’s time just saying “do the welsh know about chicken nuggets?” (something i’ve actually texted a friend while high)
he’s the type to say “i’m completely sober” while running into doors
he will sit motionless on the couch after smoking half a joint and just start talking about how he feels like he’s in a best buy
what does that even mean? i wish i could tell you but it’s so hard to describe
probably started smoking cuz he thought it would make him look cool but realized it helps him relax and destress and just calm his mind down
shitty jokes and puns but they don’t even make sense to anyone but him
NSFW but he’s an extremely horny high.
somehow more vocal than sober, more of a whimpering mess and he’s got no filter
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cognitiveleague · 3 months
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Truly one of the more frustrating recurring experiences of trying to navigate life as a grown-ass person with ADHD is that like… it’s so goddamn hard to keep my brain (which is, y’know, diagnosably deficient in Reward Self for Accomplishing Task juice) motivated to put forward the effort to take care of chores and errands and shit, because I have so many unpleasant memories of failing at that sort of thing and I feel so little sense of reward (or even relief) when I do get things done that it’s this huge effort to not just… ignore tasks until they develop into a Bullshit Avalanche that I can no longer ignore? And when I do force myself to Do Something, running into obstacles can make me feel so frustrated and embarrassed that it’s almost as if I’m being punished for trying to accomplish the task and it would have been better not to try in the first place
Like today I noticed that I’d worked about an extra hour over the last few days, and instead of doing overtime I was like “ok, it’s payday and the ‘get your oil changed, bitch’ light has been on for a while, let’s clock out at the 40 hour mark and go do that before it’s time to pick my wife up from work so I don’t have to try to make that happen this weekend”
Which meant not just the actual task of taking the car to the oil change place, but also sheepishly explaining to the folks there that a) I did not have the financial means to be upsold on anything that was not likely to be a life or death issue before tax refunds come in so please don’t bother unless you are literally afraid for my life if I don’t get the additional service, and b) I actually already know about the headlight that’s out and the old-ass air filter but please don’t replace them, I have the replacements in the car and just keep forgetting to install them myself and only remembering about it when I don’t have time or the engine is too hot for me to go feeling around for where the fucking headlight bulb goes
And to add insult to that injury, they finish up and I’m like, oh. Right.
I lost my debit card like 2-3 weeks ago (yay, absolute garbage perception of time) and KNOW it’s on the floor of the car or maybe in my apartment somewhere so I haven’t reported it lost to get a replacement I just need to find it but the car’s a huge mess and I keep always being too tired or busy when I think about it. And also it’s hard to not be underemployed when I don’t have the spoons to look for a better paying job on top of holding down the job I have, and my wife has similar issues, and the cost of living these days, guys, am I right?? And we’ve got a little windfall coming soon that will help us pay off our debts, but crucially. That is still ‘soon’ and hasn’t happened yet. Anyway so the credit card is apparently maxed out from us having to use it to get around not being paid a living wage the last couple of years :))))))) And the “emergency use only because the bill goes to my parents’ house and I don’t want to abuse the privilege of having parents who can afford to and are willing to help financially when I really need it or to keep being a burden on them, and also they WILL judge me if anything unnecessary is on there” card in my wallet is expired and the new one is somewhere in the kitchen (or living room?) mess at home so I can’t use that right now either
So I had to explain in front of the other customers that I just straight up forgot that the only functioning card in my wallet was maxed out and like, stand there while she looked at records to confirm I was a regular client who’d never pulled shit like this before and also put a note on my file so they could like, know about it and refuse service in the future if I didn’t make good on my promise to come back and pay once I pick my wife (and their debit card) up from work in an hour and a half
And the embarrassment of all of that so thoroughly outweighs whatever minuscule satisfaction my brain can derive from “but I got the task done!” that it feels like I didn’t accomplish anything and also like I put myself through a shitty awkward experience for (what feels like) nothing. And it’s that, but with like…. every fucking thing that I have to deal with when I get home from work and I’m tired and my meds have worn off. So I just have to keep powering my way through a wall of experiences telling me “you will have all of the suffering and experience none of the reward, OR you could not bother and do something that does make you feel nice instead because wow fuck that” for EVERY GODDAMN LITTLE THING.
Anyway I love my brain for so many things, but goddamn it would be great if the “positive reinforcement machine broken” issue impaired me as little as ableists seem to think it should
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samrieimg · 2 years
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I'm shook by your reading habits. Not in a bad way, just surprised you don't really read Wilbur/Schlatt or Wilbur/Quackity. Majority of Dre/grge in makes me cringe bc they make them both OOC. Sounds stupid of me to say because all fanfics shoehorn their personalities in some way. I usually stick to Wilbur stories. I think when I gave a chance to your DNF series, it was the only enjoyable portrayal out there. What sort of DNF stories/tags do you enjoy? Are you disappointed by the offerings out there?
Oh yeah, I'm disappointed a lot. I'm picky.
Special interest rant below >:). Long af.
Color code for sections.
How i read fanfic
Manhunt D/NF
C!DN/F
XDN/F
......How I read fanfic......
What I do is go through a tag, choose random filters based on the day, search by bookmarks then go through 8 pages, opening fics in a new tab I might read. Then, go through what I collect and see if I'm hooked. Usually out of 15 fics chosen I'll find 1 or 2 I'm like "hey, this was pretty okay." Rarely ill find something I'm like "gonna subscribe and camp this."
Manhunt D/NF
I do love DN/F Whump. If no one is hurt, it's hardly as fun.
I'm not going to lie, Manhunt!Dreem is my favorite. I really love him being a scary, but still funny and morally grey wisecracking man, but finding a fic where they don't make George a woman in a George disguise is hard. Why did you castrate him? Where is his feral energy, rude tone and the fact he's a 25yo man, writers?! If an author doesn't let George sound just as dumb as Spnap and half as cocky, I click off. The amount of authors writing themselves as George is unreal.
DSM/P Verse C!D/NF
I love XDN/F and love c!D/NF, but can't ever find fics I like of either.
So, with c!DN/F, I really search for a fic honestly written by what the fandom terms "apologist", but also, it can't defang him. Dre has to be bloodthirsty, but likable and charismatic. He needs to care, but do an awful job showing it. He has to be full of character!
But whenever I find fics that nail him, they fail at Gog or vice versa. Half the time I see "Gogy fixes him :)" No, Gogy does not fix him. Gogy is also just as messed up.
There is not an ounce of c!Gogy lore I've seen that would make me think he's not going to kill someone too. Have we all been watching the same man? He kidnapped Michael with Surpnurp and that was the funniest shit ever and the fact it got retconned I'm so sad about. C!Gogy is a nightmare. He's batshit, he's unhinged, he likes chaos. He's cold and standoffish to everyone outside his friends and a gremlin. But he also cares so much. Underneath that he's caring in odd small ways. He's going to steal your flower garden and then come back with a sandwich, hand you half, and then tell you a story about a cat he saw in the woods. He's lazy and a coward, yet cocksure and a persistent stubborn ass when he wants to be.
Yet fics write him like a victorian woman pining at the window for their love. Locked in a prison. How sad. He's going to criticize c!Dre for his wrongs? No. He's going to criticize c!Dre for not getting him armor and helping him and dethroned him and not giving him attention.
A fic I crave is a villainous c!Q (that's still sympathetic, and clearly written morally grey) killing c!Gogy. I want c!Q to taunt c!Dre. I want c!Q's obsession with power to push past his obvious love for his friends and I want there to be casualties. I want c!Gogy to be a price. I want his blood.
XD/NF Ramble
Now XDN/F. Oh man. My old writing long before DSM/P was in a fandom with Greek-like gods and I found myself pouring hours, and hours, and hours into researching religions as a teen. I came away with so many stories of gods who always were too inhuman, too powerful. Even out of love humans were hurt. Like many kids, I'd read Percy Jackson, but I saw a world of possibilities. I saw stories of humans falling in love with gods ending tragically.
But I haven't EVER dropped my obsession with stories of gods' and their human followers. I am so deeply in love with the concept.
But I fell in love with XD/NF because it was what I'd wanted, and honestly, George's lore eps are a HELL of a lot like the old media. You have to make sense of what's canon and not yourself and it's such what I wanted.
But...one AO3s filtering is limited by what people tag, and XD/NF isn't separated from D/NF in searches. And the fandom largely discards c!Gogy...just like they did for well...my old blorbo.
But anyway. I do actually have a super vested love for DN/F. Mostly AU fantasy verses, but I've read that one popular more RPF-esque one.
But the fandom lets me down ;-;. Mostly how they wrote Gogy.
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Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale
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An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. 
Day 2: That’s Not Exactly Folgers In Your Cup
Warnings: Smut (Oral) and Bad Language Words
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
A/N- Hello! I hope y’all are as excited about this holiday special collaboration made with @what-is-your-plan-today​ and @jennmurawski13​ as I am. It all blossomed from early morning (for me) ramblings and we decided to do it. 2020 has been a hell of a year and we all needed a little something to smile about. And come on, whats funnier then imagining Ransom Drysdale trying to be domestic? Plus it gives some feels. There will be smut written in occasionally, so please heed the warnings to each individual fic. 
Also, we are alternating, but will reblog on our accounts, if you don’t want to miss any, send a message and we will get you added to the tag list. Happy Reading. 
Series Masterlist
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Ransom woke before you, the early morning light streaming through the window cut right across his face and he swore into the pillow while rolling to his back to sling his arm over his eyes to cut off the annoyance. He was almost there, back in that blissful state of unconsciousness when his body took over and insisted he get up. Any further attempt to return to sleep was now disrupted when natural morning urges overtook him and he sighed while lifting his arm to let the light return, blinking rapidly to adjust to the the most inconvenient thing to plague him at this hour. 
Next to him you were still asleep, soundly, peacefully which made him scowl at you for being so blissfully unconscious. He envied you in this moment as he rolled up from bed and trudged into the bathroom to take care of himself. Afterwards once he came back out, he grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants and slipped them on. You would be waking up soon, and there was one thing you always wanted before anything else, even before you were pregnant, it was a must have or else. Now you valued this all that much more since his child seemed to just suck all the energy from you, savored it more then he savored his biscoff cookies. 
Your coffee. And hell be damned if you didn't get your coffee. 
Now typically you make it, liking a certain amount of scoops to get you through the morning, touch of cream and a little sprinkle of sugar just to take the bite out of it. Ransom has seen you make it countless times in the morning, your over sized tee hanging around your thighs and hair piled atop your head. Your eyes would be closed while you measured, you just knew it down to the action how you wanted it. He never tried to mess with your perfection. In fact he learned early on to stay out of your way the first twenty minutes in the morning unless he was taking care of you between the sheets. That was the only equivalent you were accepting of in the morning. 
This morning Ransom felt a twinge of affection now that he was awake, seeing you shift into the middle of the bed and pull his pillow into your chest like you were hugging it. Gently he leaned over and brushed the flyaway hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss there before leaving the bedroom to head downstairs. 
Typically you just made Ransom a coffee too, it became almost a habit for him to want it, although he didn't need it, not like you did. But yea, he craved it and decided that this morning, since he was already up, he would just do it himself. Regardless of the fact that you had forbidden him to touch the coffee maker for some reason. Which fuck it was in his kitchen, if he wanted to use it he was going to. 
“Can't be that hard, dump some grounds in, put in the fucking water.” He flipped off the top of the coffee maker to see if you pre-filled it the night before, sometimes you did. Last night was not the case though. Reached into the cupboard for the precious Starbucks coffee and opened the bag to breathe in the strong coffee bean aroma. Okay, he had to admit it was a pleasant smell, and already he could feel himself feel a bit more upbeat. He ended up setting it aside and searched everywhere for the measuring spoon, leaving a slight kitchen destruction in his path of open drawers and stuff piled on top of the kitchen counter, he just eyeballed dumping the coffee in. Completely forgetting the filter in the process. 
Impatiently he waited, fingers tapping on the counter as the drip drip drip started. “It would be faster just to have someone deliver.” He muttered to himself, contemplating how much you would protest possibly hiring a housekeeper. Fran was decent… enough. He thought to himself. Aside from her being the most annoying woman his grandfather had hired. Of course she could be useful when the occasion called for it. Like now, how fucking easy would it be if someone was just delivering you two the coffee in bed.  
Already he knew you probably weren't going to go for it, it was fine for Harlan according to you because he needed the help. In fact when he brought it up, your eyes rolled and you scoffed at him. “You are kidding right Ransom? You are a grown ass man, do it yourself.” 
 When the coffee maker finally gave the last spurt, and sounded exhausted, Ransom shook his head from the memory and turned to pull down two mugs and proceeded to pour into each. It was black, blacker than usual. He sniffed it, and needless to say it was STRONG. 
Ransom just kept going, grabbing your half and half, as well as the small bit of sugar you like, he stirred it all together and brought it back up the stairs. 
You were just waking up when he reentered the bedroom. Your arms lifting up to hit lightly against the headboard and your wiggling fingers while giving a yawn, you inhaled the strong scent of coffee and immediately pushed to sit. 
“What is that? Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes widened as Ransom set the mug down on your nightstand with a roll of his eyes. 
“Well good morning to you to Princess.” he stated as you grinned at him, reaching over for the mug while he sat on the end of the bed. You didn't dare take a sniff as if to check, not with the way Ransom was watching you intently and you just took a sip. 
It hit your mouth with a ferocity that brought tears to brim to your eyes, and your taste buds screamed in protest at the gritty black death you were forcing yourself to swallow, doing everything you could to keep from spitting it out. You were just thankful that this morning you were dealing with morning sickness, yet. Somehow you forced the bitter liquid down your throat and tried to keep a straight face, as you were touched with Ransom’s act of kindness, something he was still working on. But there was no hiding your expression, as hard as you tried to keep it from Ransom.
His head dropped when he saw your face. “Fucking terrible isn’t it? See this is why you should let me hire a housekeeper.” 
“Ransom, it tastes just fine. And we don’t need a housekeeper. This house isn't all that big.” You rolled your eyes as you showed him you were right by taking another sip of his coffee, forcing a smile on your face. 
“I always had a housekeeper, and I turned out fine.” Ransom rebutted while moving to a stand. “Put that cup down. You can make some later.” He instructed and you were quick to set it aside, relieved not to have to pretend anymore. Ransom yanked the blankets away, making you tumble a bit in bed with a yelp. 
“Ransom! What are you doing?” You looked down at him as he grasped your ankles, sliding you down the bed while he moved to kneel at the end of the bed, smirking at you. 
“Cant make coffee worth shit. But I can do this, and I know you like this just as much.” 
He was right, the man had a mouth on him that you had a hard time resisting, even when he was pissing you off. 
Fingers delved under the band of your sleep shorts and slipped them off before draping your legs over his shoulders and pressing hungry kisses along the inside of your thigh. “Okay, you have me there, maybe I do. I'm a little scared to see what you did down in the kitchen now.” 
“Nothing that can't be cleaned up.” He looked up at you, and you opened your mouth to say something about how you were going to have to clean it when he let his mouth press against your cunt and his tongue bury between the folds. 
That effectively distracted you, making your words stutter from the tip of your tongue into a moan while he lapped at you, shifting between quick flicks to flattening his tongue and dragging through your folds to suck at that bundle of nerves that made you gasp his name in a needy way. Your hands shoot down to twist into his hair, holding onto his scalp while he takes you apart with his mouth. Toes curled into his upper back when he teased you further, your hips starting to rock to meet the darts of his tongue in your clenching channel. You let yourself fall back into the pillows and quit trying to reason with him or make him feel better. You just let yourself experience this new attempt at treating you.
“Please Ransom, I want to come now.” You whined out while his fingers flexed on your hips, keeping you mostly pinned in place although your body was rippling to arch and grind into him. Your heels firmly pressing into his back in an attempt to lever yourself although he was firm in his hold. Unwilling to let you move just yet. Ransom sucked folds of flesh into his mouth, the lower part of his face slick when he lifted to smirk at you, and shifted a heavy forearm across your hips, careful not to press against your stomach. 
“How badly do you want to come, Princess?” He licked at his lips, brighter pink with use then normal and you glared at him down your body. 
“Considering I am growing you spawn in me, you think you would treat me better.” Trying your hand at using guilt to get him into giving you your orgasm, he let his fingers stretch your open, pressing into your warmth. 
“You know I love you, and only treat you fucking good.” His fingers curled to stroke your fluttering walls, enticing you to come for him with every stroke against your sweet spot. “Come on Beautiful, come undone for me so we can start our day.” 
You pressed to arch but he was sure to keep you held down. You started to see stars peppering your eyesight and your mouth dropped open in a silent gasp as you came for him, that rush enveloped you to send tingles all along your nerves, and your voice finally broke out in a soft cry of his name while your toes dug into his flexing back, and fingers twisted in the sheets in a weak attempt to stay grounded. 
It didn't stop him, he kept lapping at your sensitive bud, sucking and driving you to another with steady strokes of his finger. “That was just one... you know we are not stopping Princess until you have had a couple more.”  
Ransom couldn't make coffee to save his life, but he certainly knew how to make you come more than just the one time.
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redhawtriot · 4 years
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Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)
Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞
I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.
I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 
HnM 💕
Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​
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Month 1, Month 3
--Month 2--
No.
You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.
You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.
However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.
No. No. No!
The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.
“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 
Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.
How could this happen? How could you be… pr...
A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.
Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.
You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.
Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.
Well, excluding his rippling muscles.
You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.
You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!
With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.
But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.
Swollen eyes.
Red nose.
Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.
“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.
The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’
The little shits.
“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.
Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:
Boss Lady
[2:50 pm]
Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.
Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.
Think. Thin.
No carbs. No red meats.
NO ALCOHOL!!!
Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.
Kimi:
[3:31 pm]
Hope you made it home safe last night!
As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 
Boss Lady
[4:45 pm]
Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.
You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.
Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)
Inches! Inches! Inches!
You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.
Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.
Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?
When do people even start ‘showing’? 
You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.
Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?
You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.
Or damn kids for that matter.
Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?
To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.
Until now.
After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.
You paused.
Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.
That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…
Shit.
Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.
But not even they could save you now.
Fuck you really were alone.
That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.
So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?
The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.
The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.
Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.
Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  
“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 
“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”
His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”
“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.
“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.
“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”
You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.
“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”
Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”
He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”
His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--
“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,
“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,
Shit! What the fuck were you doing?
You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 
“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 
From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.
You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’
 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.
In fact.
As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.
One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”
“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,
“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 
Deku:
[1:00 pm]
Good Luck on your runway thing today!
You:
More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨
Deku:
I could help? Bring comfort snacks?
You:
Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB
You would literally be stampeded by women
Wait that sounded too good🤔
You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***
Deku:
You haven’t been eating?!
Since when?!
You:
That’s not what I said. 
Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️
Deku:
Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.
I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!
If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.
“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.
You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.
You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.
“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.
Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”
All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”
Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.
You:
[1:33pm]
I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪
Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 
You hadn’t even notice that you had been.
Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.
For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 
But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.
Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?
Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 
You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?
The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 
You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 
The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.
“W-what sizing you up?!”
You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”
“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 
“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”
The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.
“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 
You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  
“No. That’s not what I meant I—”
“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,
“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 
“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”
Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,
“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.
“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”
“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”
“Y/N!”
“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 
“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 
You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”
“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”
You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.
“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”
You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 
Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.
His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”
“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.
“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 
“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.
He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”
“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 
Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”
Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 
“Wha...?”
“I’m pregnant...”
“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”
“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 
“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 
“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”
“You haven’t been to the doctor?”
“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?
“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”
“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”
“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 
“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”
He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...
The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.
Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.
Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.
It made things extremely real. 
Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 
*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 
When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?
The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 
Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.
The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”
A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 
“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”
“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 
“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.
“Agency? Hero agency?”
“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.
Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 
Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 
He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).
What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?
“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,
“What the hell are you doing, round face?”
Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 
It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 
But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,
“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.
He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.
 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 
“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”
The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 
“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”
“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 
“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 
“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.
“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”
“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”
“You just live your life like normal!”
“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”
Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.
You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.
As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.
“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!
“Just really damn tired suddenly.”
“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”
“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 
“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”
You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 
You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 
Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--
“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 
You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 
“We need to talk!” 
One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 
“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 
That’s when it hit you. 
“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 
“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.
Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.
With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”
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Breathe {2}
Part 2
Masterlist
A/N: This is the most planned out fic. I think I’ve ever written, holy cow. Steve would be yelling language so much at this chapter. I cannot stress to all of you how much Sam or Bucky are not straight in this.
Rating: M
Summary: Six months after Endgame, Bucky sees John Walker with the shield, it’s time to talk to Sam. Steve died of old age and is the Major Character Death. Unrequited Stucky, eventual SamBucky.
Warnings: Major Character Death, Self Harm, Swears, Angst, Grief,
Word Count: 2,301
Six months passed, Bucky had been a stranger, but he had been busy. Getting acclimated to the modern world was not as easy as he had hoped. Brooklyn had changed, just like everything else. Businesses were gone, families he had known died, but it still was Brooklyn. He had taken a self guided tour when he first moved into the apartment. There were plaques all over the place with his and Steve’s name on them. He remembered staring up at their old building, or at least the plot of land it had been in, that was now some kind of apartment complex, and wondered why the hell they had thought to put a bronze plaque out front. Reading the plaque had caused his skin to crawl, the two friends lived together for years. That shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, but it kept nagging at his mind. Two friends, that’s all they were, no matter his feelings, they were friends. Til the end of the line. That phrase popped back into his mind. Bucky had ninety years, but there were three words he never got to say.
He had turned away once he finished reading, tears starting in his eyes and his hands clenched. He stumbled into two men who were holding hands.
“Watch it!” The taller one snapped, pushing the other behind him protectively. Bucky had frozen for a moment, eyes flicking around the two, whose hands remained intertwined. The one who had been pushed aside whispered in the other’s ear. “Alright, let’s go, but watch where the fuck you’re going.”
Bucky mumbled an apology, but his eyes wandered back to the couple as they walked away, their hands intertwined. He pushed down the ache he felt in his chest, shoved his hands into his pockets, and shuffled his way back to his apartment. Once he was at the place he now called home, he got onto the computer that had been left for him. Hydra had taught him how to use one, that was one skill he was grateful for.
Aside from reacquainting himself with life, he was making amends for his time as the Winter Soldier and attending his court mandated therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor. Busy, cleaning up years of messes he had made for Hydra, catching u At least that’s what he kept telling himself every time his phone dinged and it was a text from Sam. I’ll get to it. He kept saying, but he didn’t.
He sat in front of her birch tree wallpaper. He hated the room, the couch, not so much Dr. Raynor, but he hated the situation. He spent years with someone else in his head, and he didn’t need another person added to the list to comb through his mind.
Bucky continued in his usual fashion of giving her one word answers. Then he started to talk about the name he crossed of his list of amends, he parroted back Rule Number Three.“I am no longer the Winter Soldier, I am James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and you are part of my effort to make amends.”
“Give me your phone.” She ordered, he sighed and handed it over, she started going through the phone. “You’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “You’re alone, you have no family. It’s sad.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m trying. I had calm in Wakanda, for ninety years I have gone from one fight to another.”
“So now that you’ve stopped fighting, what do you want?”
Bucky paused and considered his answer. “Peace.” He answered.
She scoffed, “That’s bullshit.”
Bucky remained silent, because he knew she was right. He did want peace, but that wasn’t his top priority. “Thanks doc.” He muttered as he walked out of her office and made his way home.
He grumbled to himself and made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. He had tried to sleep in the bed, that first night after Steve was gone, but he couldn’t. Too soft, too warm, but the floor, that was just right. He sat on the floor and turned on the television, turning to the news channel, it was the only thing he could tolerate, at least it used to be the only thing he could tolerate. Sam had given up the shield. And now some asshole was walking around with Steve’s legacy on his arm. Bucky hadn’t met Walker, but he already knew, he wasn’t Captain America. The pomp and circumstance around his announcement disgusted him, Sam wouldn’t have done this. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, glancing at Sam’s message from earlier that day.
I’ll be in town this week. Teaming up with the Air Force, wanna grab a bite?
Bucky felt guilty for ignoring him all this time, he hadn’t wanted to. But he didn’t want to burden Sam, from the little bit he had learned from Steve, Sam had baggage too. He glanced back at the message. Air Force. That was something Bucky was still familiar with.
Bucky walked into the hangar. “Why’d you give up the shield?”
“Good to see you too, Buck.” Sam said calmly, ignoring Bucky’s question.
Bucky followed Sam and listened to him rattle on about the ‘Big Three.’ Aliens, androids, and wizards, the fuck? “I read the Hobbit, in 1937, when it came out.”
He didn’t miss the mildly surprised look on Sam’s face, but followed him onto the plane, like hell he was being left behind, not again. He sat across from Sam, glaring and Sam bared down and his brown eyes met Bucky’s blue. And in that moment, Bucky’s heart skipped a beat.
Bucky watched Sam jump out of the plane, and sighed. Following another idiot into certain danger. He thought to himself before jumping out, and then hitting every possible tree branch on the way down. He caught a flash of red just before he hit the ground.
“I got all of that.” He heard Sam chuckle as Redwing hovered above him.
“Get it out of my face, Sam, before I break it.” Bucky snarled through his teeth. Trying to ignore Sam’s laughter, and the little beep from Redwing.
Bucky followed Sam into the warehouse, slinking into the shadows into a separate hallway.
“Look at you, White Panther.” Sam snickered through the comms.
Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes, “White Wolf, actually.”
Sam’s quiet laughter filtered through the comms, and Bucky’s face grew warm, he shook his head and continued walking. He met Sam in a large storage room, he could see a man lifting a large pallet of boxes. “I could take him.”
“Just wait.” Sam murmured, tapping on his goggles. “There’s more.”
“I could take them.”
“Just because you have a vibranium arm doesn’t mean you can take everyone in the world.” Sam grumbled, looking out at the semis waiting. “They’ve got a hostage.”
The trucks started to pull away and Bucky ran after them. Sam was yelling at him through comms, but he didn’t care, he jumped on the back of the second truck and ripped the door open. He glanced around, “Looks like vaccines.” A girl with curly red hair stepped out from behind one of the she glanced up timidly at Bucky. “I’m here to help.” Bucky said, holding out his hand to her. A smirk appeared on her face, “Son of a—“
Bucky flew from the semi as she kicked him in the chest. He glared up at her as she gave a last smile before jumping to the top of the truck. Bucky chased after her and was instantly thrown into a fight with her and two other men. They started kicking and punching him before the men grabbed ahold of both of his arms and turned him to face her. Redwing began to buzz around her head and she groaned, then grabbed the drone from the air and snapped in half over her knee.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Bucky said wistfully, catching Sam’s eyes for a moment before Sam engaged the girl and was thrown to a separate truck and pinned down by two men that Bucky hadn’t noticed.
Then that damn red, white, and blue saucer flew through the air. Bucky glanced up to see Steve’s government replacement jump from the helicopter. Bucky caught the shield as it rebounded from the hit, then it was immediately taken by Walker. Bucky gripped the bottom of the semi, snarling as the super soldier continued to stomp on his hand until his grip was broken and he was holding on by one arm. He snarled as he slid down the truck and wrapped himself around the bottom of the trailer frame. The tires hitting the pavement sounded louder then he glanced over to see a flash of silver and red.
“That little girl kicked your ass.”Sam joked before barreling under the semi, pulling Bucky with him and they rolled into a field, the two grunting until they came to a stop. Bucky was on top of Sam, his eyes met Sam’s and Bucky felt his stomach flip, then his eyes flicked down to Sam’s lips. He panicked and rolled off Sam, he paused for a moment, trying to calm his breathing. “You’re welcome by the way.” Sam snarked.
“Asshole.” Bucky grumbled. “Those were super soldiers.” Bucky murmured, still feeling his heart flutter in his chest.
“Yup.” Sam said, standing up from the ground and walking to the road, glancing back at Bucky on the ground for a moment before walking towards the road.
Bucky grumbled and rolled onto his feet, falling into step beside Sam. They continued talking about the implications of the super soldiers. Dread was thrumming though Bucky’s body, super soldiers meant Hydra. His arm ached, he shook it off and continued to walk along side Sam, listening to him talk about his connections, where he would get the information next. Then he heard the honk of a horn.
Bucky glanced over to see the new blonde haired, blue eyed boy who wanted to be Captain America. “We’re pretty sure it’s one of the big three.” He called out to them.
Bucky glanced over at Sam with a raised eyebrow. How many of you have this damned big three idea? He thought to himself, Sam rolled his eyes. “Or it’s super soldiers.” He answered, not making eye contact with Walker.
“You really think so?” Lamar asked.
“We gotta work together. That’s the only way.” Walker said.
Bucky bristled, like hell was he going to work with him. He might think he looked the part, but there was no fucking way that this guy was Captain America. He was no Steve Rogers, Bucky’s eyes wandered over to Sam. And he sure as hell was no Sam Wilson. “Just because you carry that shield doesn’t make you Captain America.” He snarked, Sam gave him a small nudge.
“I put in the work. I know you didn’t expect to see the shield, Bucky” Walker snarked back defensively.
Bucky’s blood began to boil, who the fuck did he think he was, calling him Bucky. “Did you? Have you jumped on a grenade?” Bucky snarled, rage building inside him.
Walker started to go on a tirade about jumping on grenades, and plans for them. Bucky didn’t care. “C’mon, it’s twenty miles to the airport, get in the truck.”
Sam sighed and started climbing in the back of the truck. Bucky glared, he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t leaving Sam alone with these guys. Bucky remained silent and let Sam fill Walker in. He threw in a few
“You hacked my tech?” Sam snarled, Bucky could feel him stiffening next to him.
“It’s government property, I’m kind the government.” John answered nonchalantly.
Bucky turned his glare directly onto John, each time he opened his mouth Bucky added to his mental list of reasons why this man wasn’t fit to be Captain America. He thought that he had created a long enough list after watching his first interview, but no, meeting him in person. Bucky had a hell of a list going.
“It’d be a lot easier if I had Steve Roger’s best friend and wingman on my side.” John said.
Bucky tilted his head at Sam, who remained silent, but Bucky could see the fire lighting in his eyes. “Stop the car!” Bucky didn’t look back as he started walking on the path, Sam fell into step beside him. Bucky was seething, he started taking deep breaths to try to calm himself once they were out of eyesight of the others. He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths.
“Come on, Buck, calm down.” Sam murmured, stopping next to him, dropping a hand to his shoulder.
“He’s an asshole.” Bucky managed to spit out.
Sam laughed, “Yeah, he is. But you seem to like calling everyone an asshole today, especially people who saved your ass.”
Bucky squinted his eyes and glanced over at Sam, who had a small smile on his face. “I don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to.” Sam said, giving Bucky’s shoulder a small squeeze.
“Good, cause I wasn’t planning on it.”
Sam let out a full bodied laugh, he reined it in and glanced at the other man. “You okay?”
Bucky sighed, “He’s not Steve.” He’s not you.
Sam nodded, he removed his hand from Bucky’s shoulder. They continued in silence, both men in their minds. Bucky wasn’t sure what Sam was thinking about, but Bucky already had three plans devised for how he was going to steal the shield from Walker and make sure it ended up in Sam’s hands. Because if an asshole was going to be wielding the shield, it was going to be his asshole of choice.
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crossiantgay · 3 years
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I Shall Say Goodbye Till It Be Morrow
Logince, fantasy AU! Pt 2 coming soon!
He looked out, over the balcony watching the sun set over the horizon. He was the prince; he was supposed to love his life. It has so turned out, that most days he had turned to envying the commoner. With his wealth and lavish lifestyle came the shackles of responsibility and no control over his future. The air was sticky and humid, and the setting sun gave the air a hazy glow. His light, white blouse ruffled in the wind and he felt his caramel hair brush against his face. He heard the steady beat of footsteps behind him and he turned. Everyone was supposed to head home, it was long past working hours. When he turned, he saw his pageboy, Logan (insert last name) approach. He had ditched his navy-blue suit for just his white button-up shirt, almost similar to Roman’s own shirt. He stepped next to Roman, leaning over the balcony. 
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it” His voice sounded distant and monotone, but still had the warm undertones Logan often had in his voice. It was only a few seconds later, Roman realized he was expecting an answer. 
“Oh-yes. I suppose.” Roman drummed his fingers on the banister and Logan turned to him. 
“Is something bothering you, my prince?” there was worry etched into his face, the concern all-so-subtly seeping into his voice. He sighed. 
“Oh, it’s nothing. You know the princess of Lancaster?” Roman looked back out over the village below. 
“The daughter of our known enemy? Why yes, I am fairly familiar with her” Roman licked his lips nervously. The summer heat was making his lips crack and blister and it was rather unpleasant. 
“I am supposed to marry her in 3 months’ time” 
“Oh-” Logan’s voice sounded hollow, like someone had pulled the floor out from underneath him but his expression stayed unreadable. 
“And, to be honest?” Roman turned back to the man, waving one arm about. “I don’t even like women.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.
 “This particular woman? Or-” Roman shook his head. 
“All women. No princess has made my heart skip beats like a man with tousled hair and a well-trimmed suit.” Roman didn’t notice Logan unconsciously run a hand through his own hair.
“If I am to be… wholly honest with you, I have felt a similar way in recent months.” Logan tried to trace Roman’s gaze, find out exactly where he was looking. “I thought I was crazy. It’s great to know that I am not the only one who feels this way.” Roman gave him a small, uneasy smile. He paused and drew his lips in a thin line. 
“Did you know that there is no law that forbids a man from marrying another man?” 
“I-no. That is rather intriguing, thank you.” Logan gave a curt nod as silence passed between them, Roman draping his arms over the railing, unease clouding his mind. 
“I’m headed for a future I don’t even want.” Logan’s expression softened into something sympathetic and caring before fixing his eyes on the horizon line. Logan carefully reached out his hand, putting it on Roman’s. To his surprise, Roman didn’t pull away but refused to meet his eyes. They stayed like that in comfortable silence as the sun set past the horizon line.
__________________
Roman waved his maid away. 
“If you keep messing with my hair, it might fall out!” he ran his hands through his hair, fixing it to his liking. 
“My apologies, your majesty. However, I believe you are ready!” Roman stood in front of the mirror, admiring the suit. It was a red suit jacket with gold fastenings and trim, with a white undershirt and black dress pants. His maid hurried behind him. 
“Oh my! How could I forget the most important piece of all!” The maid delicately placed the gold, ruby and sapphire-studded crown atop his head. He straightened his posture and gave one glance back at himself before walking out to the ballroom. There was the drone of chatter along with the distant hum of classical music. He scanned the crowd for faces he recognized, only to find none. He made sure to keep distance from his father along with the princess, beelining it for the concessions. He stumbled into a few people, mutter half-hearted apologies, keeping his head down and his crown straight. Someone grabbed his arm and he jerked back. 
“Well isn’t it Roman Cassanova!” He pulled his head up to look at whoever grabbed him, searching his memory for this person. They were clearly important, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no-
“..hey.” The person hit him hard on the back and he coughed, immediately talking his ear off. He zoned in and out of the conversation, trying to keepy up when amongst the rambling he heard ‘my daughter’ and something that sounded like ‘marriage’. His blood ran cold and he tried to say something, but what to say to your future father in law? His stomach churned at the thought. As if someone has answered his silent prayers, an arm looped around his waist. 
“My highness, the king requires your attention immediately.” Roman recognised the voice immediately. 
“Ah, yes. Thank you. I shall-have to attend to that as soon as possible” he blurted out as Logan tugged him away. 
“ah, thank you.  A tap on the shoulder would have sufficed” He said when he finally gained his footing, when they were out of earshot. 
“Oh, please. You looked like dying cattle, I did you a favor.” Roman finally got a glance of his ‘knight in shining armor’ and his breath caught in his throat. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. Logan smirked. 
“What was that, my prince?” In truth, it was hard to see without his signature glasses but his jawline and cheekbones and oh my I think I might faint- he finally gathered himself and rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t believe that is how you should be talking to the future king” He stuck his chin up exaggeratedly and stuck out his tongue. 
“Ah yes, real mature your majesty.” A waiter walked by and roman grabbed two glasses of wine from his tray, handing one to Logan. 
“Are you sure? You’re not legal yet-” Roman waved a hand dismissively as he took a sip, shaking his head. 
“I have what, 4 months ‘till my birthday? The marriage is in two months so- 5 months. Close enough.” Logan shook his head and took a sip, eyeing Roman carefully. A hush fell over the room as the orchestra picked up. Roman finished his drink and looked up at him, placing it on the passing waiter’s trays. 
“Logan?” he batted his eyes and Logan stepped back. 
“No. no- no.” He shook his head but Roman continued, offering out a hand. 
“Logan, may I have this dance?” Logan sighed, taking his hand. 
“Fine. You may.” Logan took his head and was caught off-guard when Logan placed a hand on the small of his back. It did make sense, considering Logan was the taller one but Roman wasn’t super familiar with the ladies’ part in this dance. Roman placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder and Logan smiled slightly. They fell into a steady rhythm of dancing and they moved across the ballroom, Roman temporarily forgetting everyone else existed. That was, until the song ended and Logan and him stayed holding onto each other. Roman stumbled back when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he felt the world crashing down around him as he realized it was the princess. Logan dropped Roman and Roman wanted to mourn the warmth, but knew where his priorities stood. He pretended the touch was just him reaching for Logan’s drink, because that was clearly the case, totally, and downed it in seconds. It was only right after he did so, that he realized Logan had not had champagne like he had, rather a much stronger liquor. The room spun around him. 
“Uh-hi” he said, trying to get his eyes to focus on the subject in front of him. 
“Hello, I assume you recognise me?” Her eyes flicked uncertainly to Logan, who stepped away. 
“Yes, I do. You are Bella Lancaster, yes?” Roman needed to get out of here, and fast. He felt as if any moment the floor would fall out from under him. 
“I am. And you are Roman Cassanova.” 
“Yes.���
“Yes.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her glove. “Fantastic. Okay. Yes” She looked off, as well. Though why he couldn’t tell. “I must go check on my-- my father” She smiled a bit and walked off and Roman made sure to count his lucky stars. 
“You should go.” Roman spun around and immediately regretted it, falling into Logan’s arms. 
“nOoO” Roman said, a bit too loudly, turning heads around them. Logan clamped a hand on his mouth before pulling away quickly.  
“Ew! Why did you lick me?” Logan said in a hushed voice, wrinkling his nose and wiping his hand on his pants. 
“Be lucky it was your hand this time, mi amor.” Roman said, clearly losing it and Logan flushed a glorious shade of scarlet. Roman had lost all sense of filter, something that was definitely required as a prince. 
“Maybe we should take you to bed,” Logan said, looking out at the numerous people staring at them. 
“Mhmm, bed, I like the sound of that” He purred and Logan sighed. 
“You are drunk off your ass and not thinking straight. You need to get out of here before you make a scene” Roman huffed, leaning more into Logan.
“Whatever you say..” he grumbled. “Your majesty…” his tone turned softer and his eyes fixed on something behind Logan. 
“N-no. Let’s go” He gripped Roman’s hand, in less of a handhold but more of a means to tug him along. Roman pouted the whole way as Logan did his best to discreetly tug him out of the ballroom, which went both well and not. Luckily, they avoided the king’s eyes but caught the likes of many onlookers, as Logan assured them that princey here had just had a bit too much. Once they were out of sight, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and raced up the steps. 
“Woahhh” Roman giggled, with a case of the hiccups “You’re strongggg” Once they had made it to prince’s chambers, Logan set Roman down and unlocked the door with surprising ease. Roman stumbled into the room, pulling Logan in by his jacket. 
“Roman!-” With one final tug, he pulled Logan onto the bed. 
“You thought I was done with you? Not even close” Logan felt his once-gone blush returning as the prince fiddled with the fasteners on his jacket. 
“Nope nope nope nope nope-” Logan sat up quickly, pulling the prince’s hands from his jacket, running his thumbs over the scarred knuckles. 
“You’re intoxicated and about to do something you’ll regret.” He looked him in the eyes and Roman looked away. 
“But I want this-no- I want you.”  Logan’s expression softened.
“Darling, the wedding’s in a couple months. I don’t want to make anything harder for you.” A choked sob ripped its way out of Roman’s throat and Logan pulled him closer. Roman tucked his head in the crook of his neck. 
“I never wan-” He gasped, trying to catch his breath as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “I never wanted this! Th-these responsibilities a-and arranged marriages a-and-” Logan shushed him gently. 
“It’s okay. I’m right here, you’re okay.” Roman looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and uncertain eyes.  Logan pressed a kiss to his forehead that lingered for a bit too long, breath ghosting over the skin. He pressed another kiss, this time to cheek, before another and another and another, touching every inch of exposed skin they could find as Roman’s mind went foggy, too overwhelmed by this absolutely wonderful sensation to even think. He feels a semblance of pressure at the back of his head, where Logan has his fingers threaded into Roman’s caramel locks, barely tethered there by the hand on his waist as Logan pulls his head up, looking at Roman with half-lidded eyes. 
“What about ‘not making anything harder for me?’” Roman says, a playful smirk evident on his face. 
“If you’ll allow me to indulge in a bit of selfishness, your majesty” Logan finally utters, his voice so much richer than Roman remembers; like the distant rumble of storm clouds.
“Yes,” Roman says, barely a whisper. “Please, yes” With that phrase, Logan captures Roman’s lips in a deep kiss, eyes fluttering shut despite himself. Roman blindly grasps for something to pull Logan closer, something to anchor him in this moment. 
                     ________________________
Loud footsteps can be heard from outside as Logan, who has been awake for about 3 and a half whole minutes, shakes Roman awake. 
“Huh? Who-” Roman groans as his suit uncomfortably pinches at his sides, very obviously not meant for sleepwear. Logan pointed towards the door and Roman noticed the heavy footsteps, which could only mean one thing. He looked to his side, about to urge Logan to hide only to find Logan was already under the bed, hidden by the maroon bedskirt. Roman sat up, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible as his father burst into the room. 
“Morning, son!” He bellowed and Roman winced, becoming acutely aware of his hangover. Roman blinked slowly, trying to wake himself up. 
“You look a little out of sorts. Get yourself ready and come downstairs! I hope you haven’t forgotten about our Day Of The Sun banquet?” Roman’s eyes went wide as he cursed himself. It was the summer solstice; where for the whole day a large party would be held across the kingdom. The festivities last night were just a precursor to that and this was definitely not the day to have a huge hangover and your assistant in your bed. Wait, how did Logan get here? His memory stopped after his talk with the princess. 
“Well see you down there, then…” The king trailed off, noticing his son staring at the wall and the look of distant fear in his eyes. He walked out, shutting the door behind him. Logan crawled out from underneath the bed, brushing himself off and laying beside Roman. 
“We should get ready,” Logan mused, taking in the prince once more. 
“What happened, exactly?” Roman asked tentatively and Logan’s cheeks went dark red. 
“Uhm, we kissed…” Logan said, avoiding Roman’s eyes and Roman blushed a similar color, envying the red curtains hanging in front of his windows. He, Prince Roman, heir to the throne of Cassanova, has kissed his assistant of 7 years. With his awaiting marriage in two months’ time. 
“Oh my” he whispered and Logan smiled at the remark. 
“Mm. Now we really should get ready, my rose-er, highness.” Logan stood up quickly and Roman shook his head. 
“‘My rose’ sounds better. Less formal.” 
“Noted.” He nodded a bit, trying to ignore the pinkish color of his cheeks. He paused for a moment. “I should get ready. Well, you too. We should get ready.” Logan gave a curt nod. Roman laughed a bit under his breath and stood up. He took Logan’s face in one hand and kissed it.
“I suppose we shall,” he flipped through his closet, looking for something light enough in the summer heat. He finally found another white blouse, frowning a bit as he put it on. 
“My hi-my rose-” Logan buried his face in his hands, looking between the gaps in his fingers and Roman shrugged. Logan went back to his chambers to change, Roman changing into black shorts. Finally, he grudgingly placed the crown atop his head. Everything he had grown to loathe incarnated into some dingy piece of jewelry. Logan returned a few minutes later, thankfully this time with his glasses, with a white button-up shirt unconsciously unbuttoned at the top and black suspenders. His black hair was messy and fluffy due to the humidity. Roman blushed when he saw Logan, stammering. Logan let out a puff of air, snickering. 
“You look lovely, my rose” he offered out his hand and Roman took it. 
“As do you, my love” he smiled as Logan placed a kiss to his forehead. 
“We should head downstairs,” Logan chided gently and Roman paused. 
“Just a few more minutes. I enjoy being here with you” 
                ______________________
The festivities were long underway, Roman hovering by Logan’s side the whole time as they talked with the common folk, eating all the delectable foods the carts outside the castle had to offer and embracing the enticing atmosphere. When the sun was just past halfway in the sky, one of the servants approached them. 
“Sir Logan, your family requests your attention immediately.” Logan’s brow furrowed as Roman held his hand tightly. 
“They live on the other side of the Alabaster River, why do they call for me- they know I have my responsibilities here-” 
“Your mother has fallen ill” the servant bowed and Logan’s blood ran cold. He nodded, shifting closer to Roman. He gave a curt nod, leaning over to whisper in Roman’s ear. 
“A week from now, meet me outside the city of Eastview at sunset.” Logan stepped away and Roman frowned, hurrying to the nearest carriage. 
                ________________________
Roman stood at the edge of his balcony, overlooking the edge to the drop below. It had been a week since Logan’s mysterious absence, and of course it took the King no time to appoint another in his position, a short and snooty page with a shrill voice who always insisted Roman was wrong, constantly babying him. Roman threw the rope over the edge of the balcony, double, triple-knotting it to the banister. With shaky hands, he slowly began his descent. He felt like fainting when he finally felt dirt beneath his feet, in all fairness climbing rope was not his area of expertise. He shook himself off before running to the stable, shushing the horses and grabbing one of them before making his departure from the kingdom. 
    After many uncomfortable minutes riding on horseback, he finally made it to Alogas, which was right next to Eastview. He was almost there. He looked worriedly as the sun started to set. He couldn’t be late. He couldn’t. 
    He finally made it to the border of Eastview, and his eyes lit up as he saw a tall, black-haired man in the distance. His smile only grew as Logan came more into view, in a wrinkled light-blue shirt and dirt smudged on his cheeks. He skidded to a stop and jumped off the horse, running into Logan’s open arms. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, just enjoying the other’s embrace, Logan placing countless kisses to Roman’s head and Roman burying his face in Logan’s shoulder. 
“I missed you, my rose” He mumbled. It had only been a week, but Logan was always at his side so it felt like it had been months. 
“I missed you too, my love. Palace life has been near awful without you; have you seen who they hired to fill in?” Roman rolled his eyes and Logan chuckled. He placed a hand on Logan’s chest but when he did, his brow furrowed. He tugged at Logan’s shirt, tracing his hand across the scabbed-over gash. Logan took his hand in Roman’s, pulling it off the cut. 
“It’s fine. Just an unlucky accident.” Logan assured him. Roman didn’t seem satisfied. 
“Did someone hurt you?” Roman asked, anger seeping into his voice.
“No, my love, it was my own fault. I hurt myself while farming.” Roman looked up at him. 
“Farming?” Roman raised an eyebrow. 
“Yes, my punishment for getting fired by the king’s court.” He ran a hand through his hair. When he looked back down, he saw the alarm in Roman’s eyes. 
“Wha-how were you-” Logan wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist.
“Someone at the ball saw us, and ratted me out to the king. Next thing you know, I’m fired and a direct message from the king to stay away from you. My parents nearly ripped a new one when they found out. So, 8 hours a day out in the field.”  Logan sighed, caging his disdain at the incident. He looked down and met Roman’s eyes, recognizing his concern. He rubbed circles in Roman’s shoulders, looking Roman in the eyes. 
“Oh no, my rose, it’s ok. We’ll get this sorted out, I assure you.” Logan tried to reassure him. Roman nodded slowly, looking at the ground. In truth, he looked miserable. 
“Plus, now I don’t have to look over my shoulder to do this,” He leaned down and captured Roman’s lips in a kiss, Roman’s cheeks dotting a beautiful crimson. He trailed the kisses down his cheek, further, down the slope of his neck, soaking in Roman’s murmurs of praise and small laughs, fingers entangled in Logan’s raven-black hair. He finally pulled away, leaving a few love bites but nothing prominent, taking Roman’s hand. 
“I’ve known where you’ve grown up for most of my life, can I show you where I grew up?” There was a questioning look in Logan’s eyes and Roman nodded, brushing shoulders with Logan. 
“I’d love to.” He smiled, pressing another kiss to Roman’s cheek. 
“Let’s escape to this town for a little while” They walked together, watching the setting sun. 
                ________________________
When they got to the more busy section of the town, Roman went to drop Logan’s hand but Logan held on more firmly. 
“It’s fine, my rose. No one cares who you’re with as long as you can pay your bill” Logan’s eyes scanned over the crowd. Roman pressed closer to Logan’s side, Logan wrapping his other arm around Roman’s shoulder. They went from shop to shop, walking around the town. 
“Would you like to grab dinner?” Logan asked when he saw Roman eyeing one of the bakeries. He nodded a bit too frantically, a chuckle escaping Logan. 
“That would be… adequate,” Roman said, looking at Logan sheepishly. “I didn’t have dinner before I went to see you” 
“Dear gods,” Logan murmured under his breath. Logan walked over to one of the shops, Roman staying close behind. After a few moments, he handed roman a boar-and-cheese sandwich. He covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing as Roman practically devoured it, licking his lips. 
“What about manners? I thought you were a prince” Logan teased and Roman huffed, sticking his tongue out. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. He held Roman’s hand once again as Roman pulled him along, towards the local animal pen to see the deer and sheep, probably. 
    The end of the night came all-too quickly as Logan carefully eyed the sky. If he was correct, it was probably around 11 or so. 
“Roman, as much as I hate to say it, you should be heading home.” Logan said, drawing closer to where they first met. 
“No, it’s too soon. I don’t know if I can go without seeing you.” Roman turned to Logan, a pleading look in his eyes. Logan bit his lip. 
“We can tryst again, same time next week. How does that sound?’ Logan held both of Roman’s hands, gazing into those dark, chocolate eyes. Roman nodded, if a bit hesitant. 
“Promise?”
“Promise”
________________________
“What is bothering you? I know that look,” Logan said, looking deep into Roman’s eyes, as if he looked hard enough, what was bothering him would be written, clear as day. Roman folded his hands in his lap, mouth twisting into a grimace. 
It had been another excruciating week without Logan when Roman slipped out to meet his lover again. Lover, he thought. It has a nice ring to it. Roman got off of his horse to fall into those strong arms of Logan’s , all doubt leaving his body. They were so secure, so comforting. 
“Logan, take me somewhere we can be alone?” Roman asked, looking as the townsfolk hurried about. Logan nodded, walking away from the town towards the woods on the edge of the eastern side of town. Roman followed in Logan’s footsteps, never letting go of his hand as Logan led him to a small lake. Next to the lake was an old oak tree with a swing attached to it. Before Roman could think, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and set Roman on the swing. Roman looked down, kicking off his shoes with euphoria bubbling inside him. 
“Ready?” He asked, arms looping around Roman’s waist. Roman nodded. Logan smiled, slowly pulling the wing back before pushing him forward. Roman couldn’t bite back the giggle that escaped his throat, happiness flooding inside him. They fell into a gentle rhythm of pushing and pulling, Roman’s laughter echoing around the forest. Eventually, the swing stilled into a stop and Roman scooched over, Logan sitting beside him. 
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sweetcheol · 4 years
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college boyfriend!sehun
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—genre: fluff
—au: college, friends to lovers
—pairing: oh sehun x reader
—song to listen to while reading: fall again — klang
—word count: 2.2k
—warning(s): mentions of sex, sehunnie being the best boyfriend ever, choking on chips ??? (but it’s nothing bad, i promise)
sehun was your netflix binging partner before he was even your friend
okay ... he was your netflix binging partner before you even knew his name
you guys were in an ethics class together
and it was one of those common classes everyone in uni had to take no matter their major, so it was like 60 of you in a huge ass classroom
so you resorted to the only alternative to keeping you awake during 2 hour long, powerpoint based, boring lectures: 
yoy got the best out of your netflix subscription plan
god bless airpods bc you could just hide them with your hair and nobody ever noticed anything
except for sehun
who conveniently sat one seat to the left on the row above you
so he had the perfect view to your laptop screen
and had watched the whole fifth season of peaky blinders with you
of course he never told you bc that... that would have been kind of weird
so he just kept to himself and tried his best to keep on being your anonymous netflix partner
he had even started to buy himself some snacks to munch on during class and was truly living his best life
until you finished peaky blinders ... and were about to start watching crash landing on you
sehun just ... sehun loved that show, okay?
so when he saw the intro pop on your laptop he started choking on his shrimp chips, creating a commotion
like ... even the professor stopped talking and asked him if he was okay, causing everyone to turn around and face him
red-faced, choking him
even you, who had paused the show and turned around in your seat so quickly he thought you’d cracked your neck
and in that moment, sehun did the only thing he could think of
which in that case meant bolting straight out of the classroom coughing like a madman
and just like the concerned netflix partner classmate you were, you had walked out right after him
“yah! don’t run, let me help you!”
and tbh ... sehun had never expected to turn around and come face to face with you, holding a bottle of water for him to sip on
that alone helped him stop coughing
he reluctantly accepted the water while turning beet red in the face
so the two of you sat down on a set of stairs that were near the classroom while sehun drank his water
he was trying his best to zone you out, eyes set on the floor and only focusing on the bottle in his hand
bc that had been ... embarrassing, to say the least
and he had asked you, in the smallest voice possible to please wait until class was over to pick ur things up bc he didn’t wanna go in and then interrupt the lecture again
so you granted him his wish
and when people started piling out of the classroom, you were like well
and sehun didn’t even say anything to u before he walked back inside, took his backpack with him and walked away
so you were like ???? as you stashed your laptop in ur bag and walked back to your dorm
you didn’t see him the next class
and since the room was so big you were like wtf did he sit someplace else
you couldn’t even watch your show in peace that day bc ... what had you even done to him
the lesson after that ... you were resigned
whatever was his problem you wouldn’t mind
but then someone placed a blue thunder gatorade on your desk with a hot pink post it pasted on the cap
“spare airpod ???”
and sehun was sat on the chair next to yours, drinking from his own gatorade bottle while he waited for your response
so you fished the earbuds from your bag and extended your hand, one of them resting on your palm
sehun took it
and the two of you watched the third episode of the show together
the two of u didn’t speak much though
he’d muttered a soft “thank you” when returning the airpod when class was done and that was it
but then he sat next to you the following lesson
and the next one
and the next one
a couple of weeks after that he started giving you bags of chips and cookies alongside the gatorade
until you had finished a couple of dramas
... and the semester
the two of you were quite bummed the last day of classes
bc neither of you had seen the other one in any other classes so you were sure you weren’t in the same major
and sehun had only said “it was very nice meeting you” after the last class was over
and that was it
or u thought
until half-way through the summer, you had finally found enough willpower to clean your backpack
and had found a cute little note on the bottom of it
from none other but your cute, tall classmate
“maybe we could hang out and actually talk sometime?” alongside his phone number
and at first you were like oh a month has gone by, he won’t remember me
but then you wrote a simple “hey, it’s (y/n) from ethics”
and sehun almost ... choked once again when he read it
bc he though you just weren’t going to text him at all
and so the two of you started talking
he was very funny and easy-going, so you became friends pretty fast
you texted all through-out the summer
and ofc sehun told chanyeol, his best friend and roomate, about it
which prompted chanyeol to tease him 24/7 abt how he should just ask you out
and sehun was like “it’s not like that”
but everyone could see it was like that
so sehun was like ... okay i might
and he was like “so i was thinking ... maybe we could go to the movies”
and you were like !!!!!! red code !!!!!! alert !!!!!! oh my gOD 
bc you had been like ... crushing on him ever since the chip incident
and answered him like “yeah that’d be nice” 
a few days after you went to the movies
and were both a mess at first but the date actually turned out pretty well bc you went for dinner afterwards and everything ran out pretty smoothly
sehun was like OOOOOOH YEAH I’M UR BOYFRIEND NOW ... right after he walked you to your door
but you weren’t complaining bc you liked him a lot too
SO NOW
onto the relationship
ngl you are like low-key done with him the week after you start dating bc he is ... a little shit
like if he feels he isn’t getting enough attention he’ll go like “(y/n) that’s so unfaiiiiiiiiir”
but then he’ll start playing around with vivi and you’re standing there like okAY
and if you tell him he’ll get all sassy and go like “i knEW u just can’t live without me”
but then when you spend enough time with vivi and he starts running to you instead of sehun ... he goes like “wAIT (y/n) he’s MY son wtf”
but inside he’s like “that’s OUR son oh my god” 
gets low-key jealous of all the lead actors of the dramas you watch together
like suddenly you’ll turn around and he’s pouting 
but he forgets about it halfway through the episode
even though you two aren’t in the same class anymore he likes studying together
and is always buying snacks for your study dates
he’ll study for like 15 min and then will start pouting bc he wants kisses
wears a lot of hoodies and sweatpants but will also clean up somedays bc he wants to look nice for you
will very subtly leave his hoodies at your dorm
he thinks it’s romantiquè
and you’re very grateful for it bc he’s very tall and thus his hoodies are very cozy
you kinda want to kill him sometimes but he’s definitely the kind of guy that calls you at three am just because he wants to talk to you“i just wanted to hear your voice”
and he’s just laying in his bed smiling like a fool while you tell him about your day
you both end up constantly falling asleep over the phone but neither of you mind
and then chanyeol enters the apartment and sees him passed out on the couch with his phone in hand and your name on his screen 
it’s safe to say sehun’s not going to live it down
i don’t think he’d be a big fan of pda
so in public, you kinda only hold hands
he might give you a little kiss from time to time but that’s pretty much it
oh but in private ... he can’t keep his hands off you
and your butt
he gives the best hugs ever??? and it doesn’t help that he loves hugging you
forehead kisses
so so so many forehead kisses
definitely takes advantage of his height
for that, and for placing stuff on high places so that he has to help you on getting them down
lowkey touches your butt when he’s doing it
okay but when you’re ... doing the do
sehun’s a switch
i feel like he’d either be such a whiny sub or a very ... whiny dom (but he’d still be very soft ngl) 
(i mean he’s the spoiled maknae for a reason)
favorite thing ever is when you ride him and he can just hold your hips really tight and guide your movements so they can match his
moans so fucking loud you’re sure your entire floor can hear the two of you
i’m not sure he’d be a very kinky lover
like i feel he’d be pretty vanilla
but i mean ... he dances ... his hips can ... do things
so it’s not like it’s anything bad, you know ????
a huge fan of hickeys
but on more ... private places
like he’ll never leave one on your neck
but your chest is a completely different story
bc he doesn’t leave them so that people can see them
he leaves them so he can see them and remind himself that you’re his
that you chose him
that was really sappy
he’s a dance major
and he’s always asking you to go with him to practices
both bc he loves being with you and bc he likes it when you watch him dance
he’s a tease and we all know it
he’d run his hands over his hair and smirk all the time bc he knows you’re looking at him
sometimes he even takes off his shirt and acts like it’s just bc of the heat
and you blush so hard and he’s just like 😌
but also when he has a show or presentation or something
he gets so so so so nervous
but then he spots you in the crowd and just smile a bit bc you’re there, supporting him, and that’s all that matters
his phone background is this selfie the two of you with face masks on
you had your hair up in a bun and both of you were lounging in sweats
you had been playing around with snapchat filters and accidentally took the sweetest photo ever
so he asked you to send it to him
and he set it up as both his lock screen and his home screen
yours is a mirror selfie you took when you were watching him practice
you were taking a photo and when sehun noticed he came to give you a kiss on the cheek
and it was the sweetest thing ever
he literally sends you each and every selfie he takes
and sometimes goes like “hey does this look okay?”
and sometimes it’s more like “your boyfriend is so hot wth”
and just as he takes so many selfies so he can send them to you
he also likes taking photos with you
literally everywhere you two go
he either takes a selfie or asks someone to take a picture of you
and everyone he asks always thinks you’re the most adorable couple ever
bc the love you two have for each other is like so obviously there
and he gets so soft whenever people tell him that
even when it’s chanyeol who says it
truth is chanyeol loves you because of how happy you make sehun
he once told you when you got back home from a club
and like ... you were kinda, slightly, a little bit drunk
and hearing him say that only made you feel like you were walking on clouds even more
bc if anyone asked you to describe just how happy sehun made you ... you were sure you weren’t going to find enough words to describe the feeling
even though he usually is like hell yeah i’m a cool bf
he gets really sappy at night (and when’s drunk) 
and goes on and on about how much he loves you and he’s happy he found you
bc you always get that look in your eyes that make his heart melt
bc he’s the sweetest boyfriend ever
and it doesn’t help that he’s my ult bias bc i reallyyyyyyyy wanna date college!boyfriend sehun 🤧
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musicalmagic · 3 years
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Quarantine Days [2]
Summary: Coronavirus has arrived to the BTS members and yourself. Grappling with boredom and the reality that, yeah, you really all were stuck in the same place for a while. Ensure that the shenanigans of your days with BTS are recounted here, and please do remember, stay in contact with those you love.
A/N: It’s only chapter 2, and I already have the angst. Hahahahhh, sorry sorry. I promise there’s more good than bad, but frustrations need to come first before the good, no?
* Pairing: BTS (OT7) x reader (Idol Au)
* Word Count: 1,654
* Genre: Angst, Fluff
* Warnings: Coronavirus
1 2
Tag List: @itspwi
It was an early evening, sun only just beginning its decent into the concrete jungle that existed just outside the window of the high-rise apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung decided to play videogames after an easy-going discussion for the next album with the rest of the members, Jimin occasionally popping in to pick on the two when they messed up in Mario Kart races or Street Fighter matches. You were with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok in the studio fiddling with Cubase and other DAWs for fun, settling on a weird plugin to occupy the time, that distorted whoever’s voice spoke or sang into the microphone.
“Hey, HEY, don’t worrrry ‘bout me!” Namjoon’s filtered voice filtered about the space, while Hoseok was laughing his ass off at the wobbliness of it all, Yoongi had a small smile on his face, and you were around the same state as Hoseok. Clutching onto Hoseok’s shoulder as you balled with giggles like you were being tickled.
Seokjin was in his shared room, happily on his phone when Jimin bursts through the door. The man was so startled that he chucked his phone toward Jimin — who barely managed to duck after he himself was shocked, and the two just stood there in silence. Seokjin nervously smiled, before Jimin took off after him in a jokingly angered way. Running to catch up and managing to snag Seokjin’s jacket that swirled around him like leaves in the wind, pulling him back toward him but instead of wrapping his arms around his waist, was in fact knocked to the ground. Seokjin’s larger frame landing directly on top of him. The men grunted as gravity stomped on them, air escaping their lungs from the impact.
Jungkook waddled out from the living room to find Jimin attempting to shove Seokjin off of him but was failing miserably, grumbling curses under his breath when he realised it was impossible. Taehyung appeared moments later clutching his stomach in hysterics at the sight. Seokjin was laughing as well, which only made Jimin even more pissed. He quickly hooked Seokjin’s right leg around his own and pulled Seokjin’s right arm towards the ground, pushing his other leg upwards in an attempt to get Seokjin off — who completely fell off of Jimin in surprise.
“You alright there?” Taehyung questioned, a tint of glee in his tone. Jimin just glared at him from the floor, looking close to punch him. Seokjin stood up and began to pat his clothes to rid the creases, eyeing the two in front of him and heavily sighing. Glad that Jungkook wasn’t here either.
You and Hoseok, still on about the craziness of distorted Namjoon singing, happened upon the trio’s standstill with Jungkook also coming out to peek at what was going on. Jimin and Taehyung were bickering, while Seokjin just looked like he wanted to run the other way, ears tinted red and staring at anything but Jimin and Taehyung.
You sighed and looked to Hoseok, who had a firm, but unreadable expression on his face. He turned back the way he came.
You all stood still.
Waiting.
  Hoseok returned with Namjoon, Yoongi trailing behind him. With a single nod to everyone, Namjoon successfully dragged everyone to the living room. Jungkook promptingly switching the TV off, as you all settled on the available seats.
“First, what happened before this?”
Jimin huffed, crossing his arms, and simply saying, “Seokjin threw his phone at me.”
“You startled me first by barging into my room!” Seokjin angerly remarked, “Unannounced, might I add.”
“I didn’t know you had a phone in your hand!”
“Maybe you should knock next time then.”
Jimin grumbled again, unable to reply.
Namjoon just sighed into his hand, trying to think what to do.
“We are only two months into this lockdown and already fights are breaking out. You two need to find a way to cool off,” Yoongi chimed in. Namjoon gently nodding next to him.
You sat there in puddle of your own sweat at the idea it was only two months since the lockdown, and there were already conflicts. How can they stay friends in such close proximity in general?
Jimin sat up and headed out of the living room towards his room, and Seokjin did the same. The six of you remaining all collectively agreed to leave the two alone, and went off. Although, the five boys decided on watching a movie, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, Namjoon and Jungkook all began scrolling through Netflix while you stared out into space. Furrowing your brows deep in thought.
While lockdown was stressful enough, you wondered if or when it’d get better. This definitely wasn’t a normal honeymoon phase when new events start. In fact, it felt more bickery than flattery.
“Hey ­_____, are you going to watch with us?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your head.
“Yeah, sure. Have you guys chosen something?”
Yoongi answered quickly, “We thought a light-hearted movie would be good.”
“So we’re putting on a Disney movie,” Hoseok finished. Namjoon hummed in confirmation, “The Little Mermaid.”
You perked up at that, smiling, “Sounds good! Put it on, put it on!” You excitedly said.
Everyone there chuckled at your reaction, putting the movie on quickly.
--
Pretty much everyone had fallen asleep by the time the movie’s credits had rolled on by. The boys all somehow ended up on top of each other in a cuddle puddle, and you had to wordlessly move their legs off your own to get to the kitchen.
Seokjin was there when you entered, his fingers tapping the mug he held as he drank what was in there silently, brows furrowed in concentration. You paused at the doorway, concerned.
“Seokjin? Are you alright?” He didn’t startle and held firm, only slightly surprised at your sudden introduction.
He looked tired as he answered with an, “I’m fine _____. Thanks.”
You padded over and took out a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water when Seokjin asked, “How’s everyone else?”
“Asleep. I don’t know how to get them all to their beds,” you replied while sipping on the water.
Standing a lot closer to Seokjin, you focused on how seriously exhausted the man was. Seokjin is someone who doesn’t vocalise their struggles often, and prefers to show the happier sides of life, and is a calming presence. But you felt that the person in front of you was drained entirely.
So, you put your glass down, and did the same with Seokjin’s, which was easier as it was already on the island. You slid the cup away from him.
“Let’s go to bed Jin.” Seokjin began, “But what abo—”
“I’ll handle them. You need sleep.”
With that, Seokjin headed off to bed, grumbling but still going along with it anyways.
You turned back to the doorway that led to the living room. Ah yay, this’ll be fun. You quickly walked into the room. Noticing first the black TV, how it turned off by itself, and the sleepy forms of most of your friends. Yoongi and Jungkook had managed to end up on top of one another, while Namjoon, Taehyung and Hoseok had all curled around each other. Your first instinct was to yell loudly, but that would wake everyone else up.
With some hesitation, you went with shaking them all from the shoulder. Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok woke up easy, eyes drowsy and drooping though, but they all helped you try and wake the last two who were notorious heavy sleepers. At one point, Hoseok had tried jumping onto Taehyung, but just fell off the side of the couch when he landed; Taehyung had just curled further into the fetus position and mumbling incoherent nonsense. Which, to be fair, all of you who were up found hilarious.
Yoongi was the same, well, mostly. He kept between half-asleep and asleep, and you and Namjoon thought by this time Yoongi was just messing with you all.
Instead of Hoseok, Jungkook tried jumping on the two-sleeping people, and actually managed to get Yoongi up. Who just shot up and glared at the maknae. Now it was Taehyung that was still asleep.
Which, Jungkook also handled easily. He resulted to pinching the slightly older man awake.
You sighed in relief, all of them were awake.
Namjoon glanced at everyone as they all yawned, he clapped twice and sent everyone to their rooms.
--
Jimin and Seokjin were tense around each other when morning came. Avoiding the other completely when they could. Namjoon was over the behaviour and called another meeting.
“Alright, you two need to work this out.”
They didn’t even look at each other.
“Answer me guys. I can’t do anything if you don’t talk what’s on your mind, yes?” Namjoon firmly reminded them.
Seokjin huffed, “I’m pissed at him.”
“Why would you be pissed at me? I would be more so! You through your phone at me and sat on me! This isn’t fair Namjoon! Why am I even here?” Jimin angerly spouted at the two.
Namjoon groaned under his breath. Annoyance etched into his expression as the two started arguing again.
“Okay!” You yelled—shutting them up. “Look, Seokjin,” You began, “I can understand why you’d be angry, someone barged into your room without knocking, and I empathise that throwing your phone was a reflex, but not moving when Jimin was struggling underneath you wasn’t nice, yes?”
Seokjin’s gaze drifted from yours, silent.
“Jimin,” you turned to him, “Don’t go into other people’s rooms—even if its shared, you never know if someone is busy, cooling off, or needing space. Always knock.”
“Now, Seokjin apologise to Jimin; Jimin do the same.”
It was nothing short of amazing, how quickly you handled everything. The rest of the boys watching you in fascination, as the two apologised, genuinely so.
As the group dispersed once more, Yoongi and Namjoon had the same thought, “I’m glad she’s here.”
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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years
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Smokey brand Retrospective: Red Pill Me
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Cinemacon has passed and there has been a lot of awesome sh*t revealed. On the top of that list, obviously, Spider-Man: Far From Home has me geeked to high heaven but there were a ton of other noteworthy reveals. There was some Batman reveals, a few Mission Impossible 7 and Top Gun 2 trailers, plus audiences ever got a surprise screening of Ghostbusters: Afterlife. Now, that would be great on it's own but cats even got a little sizzle real for Matrix Resurrections: The long gestating fourth Matrix film. Apparently, this thing is releasing in December. I am lukewarm at best. I have fond memories of the Matrix trilogy as a whole but, since it’s final release some twenty years ago, the Wachowskis have been revealed to be one trick ponies. They kind of suck at film making. I mean, i liked Speed Racer but i just generally enjoy Speed Racer. It helped tremendously that Christina Ricci was Trixie, too, but everything after that was kind of balls. I also really like V for Vendetta but that’s not real their movie, they just adapted it. I guess you can say that about Speed Racer, too. Anyway, in light of there near Shyamalan-esque track record with their films, i wanted to revisit the first three Matrix films and see if they hold up, to try and muster some sense of excitement for what comes next.
The Matrix
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Of the trilogy, this is easily the best film. Everything about it is exceptional. The Matrix was a whole ass shift in the cultural zeitgeist. It was a lot of people’s first experience with accessible cyberpunk and I'll always love it for that. I’ll also love it for normalizing Hong Kong style action sequences and giving us the most breathtaking application of Bullet Time I've seen to date. The Matrix s why the theater exists. If you’ve never seen this thing on the big screen, you missed out on something very special. I had just just turned thirteen when it released and checked it out at the dollar theater. I had only ever seen anything like this, in anime. Seeing all of my favorite Eighties OVAs filtered through the big budget Hollywood lens was incredible. I even like the rather pedestrian narrative. I think the story worked for what the movie was trying to do. It’s a shame the Wachowskis have tried to rewrite history about the narrative as of late. I understand the underlying themes of identity and sexuality but come on? That’s some college film theory bullsh*t that got tacked on after the fact. Now, if the original script is to be believed, then, yes, all of that, but what we got is not so profound. This is a basic Chosen One narrative with Dope ass effects that were ahead of it’s time.
A fr as the cast, what can i say? These motherf*ckers were perfect. Keanu Reeves as Neo was inspired. It’s wild to say that because dude is a plank but it works. He’s the POV character, he’s who you see that world through. Making him a blank slate so to speak, helps with immersion and that is a world you definitely wan to be immersed within. This was my first experience with Carrie-Ann Moss and I've loved her ever since. Her Trinity fast became one of my favorite characters and I'm actually pretty excited to see where she is in the new film. Lawrence Fishburne as Morpheus was an interesting choice. I wasn’t mad and it worked perfectly but it was weird seeing him in such an active, action oriented, role. That said, for me, this movie is made by Hugo Weaving. He is absolutely monstrous as Agent Smith. He’s got this scene chewing energy that mirrors Christoph Waltz’s Hans Landa and we all know how much i love that Nazi f*ck so that’s really high praise. To this day, I've got his Humanity is a Virus speech memorized. It was just that f*cking good! The Matrix is an exquisite watch and it is absolutely mandatory viewing if you consider yourself a fan of cinema.
The Matrix Reloaded
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Whoo, boy, talk about a drop in quality. Reloaded released four years later in 2003 and it screams Studio Mandate. I was a sprightly eighteen years old when this thing dropped and made it a point to see it opening day. I really enjoyed the first outing so i figured this one would be just as amazing. Indeed, i remember leaving the theater thinking to myself how decent of a sequel it turned out to be. It wasn’t better than the first but it didn’t sh*t the bed like most follow-ups do. Fast forward to present day and, after watching this thing again for the first time in probably fifteen years, it’s kind of f*cking bad. Like, as a cinematic experience, it’s pretty tight Everything is amped up. Tons more action, way more bombastic set pieces, stakes have been raised considerably; The Matrix Reloaded is everything you want in a summer blockbuster sequel. However, that’s it. Everything else is worse. The acting has become way too hammy and the new cast members fit into this narrative like a square peg in a round hole. Why is f*cking Niobe even in this thing? Who even is the Merovingian? Why is Mouse? The pacing is all over the place, too. Like, this thing stops dead in it’s tracks on several occasions but that’s not the worst of it.
The worst thing is the narrative. What the f*ck even is the story trying to be told in this movie? It doesn’t make any f*cking sense. The Matrix was, very obviously, a standalone film. That was a closed narrative. Neo’s story had been told. Everything after that is unnecessary. This movie is an exercise in the unnecessary. I appreciate all of how unchained and manic Smith is in this but, outside of that, what the f*ck was the point of this whole narrative? It’s filler. This movie is filler and it feels like it. The returning cast is serviceable and seeing Zion was interesting. I like how all the survivors are just sweaty black people. I literally hated everyone added to the cast though. Well, that’s not quite true. I rather enjoyed Collin Chou as Seraph. Dude was inconsequential but i love seeing Asian martial artists not name Li or Chan getting some shine. Also, Monica Bellucci is in this and i kind of just love her in general. Her Persephone is absolutely disposable but she looks damn fine in that plastic wrapped dress of hers. I literally can’t be bothered mentioning anyone else. They are that forgettable. This movie is that forgettable. And it’s arguably the best of the two sequels.
The Matrix Revolutions
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Talk about going out with a thud. Man, i saw this with my best friend, rest in peace B, and we both hated it. He was an even bigger fan of The Matrix than i was so his disappointment was palpable. I’ll never forget his visceral reaction when that rainbow spread across the super happy Hollywood ending. Dude was hot and he had every right to be. The first Matrix set up this intriguing, immersive, world full of fanatic visuals, great piratical stunts, and a very through provoking premise. The second Matrix was your basic Hollywood sequel; More shine, less substance. But Revolutions? Man this is peak Wachowski fail. You saw hints of this messiah sh*t in the first, it’s literally a Chosen One narrative, but thy went all in on that sh*t in Reloaded. By the time Revolutions finished, this whole narrative was so far up it’s own ass, it didn’t know which way was up. It just f*cking ends. Everyone is dead and it’s over. The Wachowskis went heavy on the Jesus imagery, they were not subtle, and the f*cking conflict just ends. Robot don’t stop using people as batteries. Flesh and blood Humans still have to live in Zion. The only thing that’s changed is Neo’s dead and Agent Smith has been deleted. That’s it. The Matrix still exists, people are still trapped in it, and everything that happened in these films doesn’t f*cking matter. Literally right back at the start of the whole goddamn conflict. Revolutions is so f*cking disappointing, dude, by every measure of that metric.
Hugh Weaving is still pretty good as Smith and Keanu does his best imitation of white bread as Neo but, like, everything else is just so pedestrian. Plus, this thing is long. Like, unreasonably so. Why the f*ck is this movie two hours? The entire trilogy is kind of like that but it’s most egregious in this one. This story could be told in ninety minutes, just like Reloaded. Why the f*ck do i have an extra half hour of bullsh*t in this? Like, that whole “Neo Lost” arc was unnecessary, in both sequels. F*cking why? I don’t hate Revolutions. It’s not a “bad” film per say, it’s just disappointing. It’s the poster child for the law of diminishing returns. The Matrix Revolutions is the what happens when you let creatives with fresh egos, run amok with one hundred and fifty million f*cking dollars. So much spectacle but even less substance that Reloaded and that motherf*cker was a hollow mess. Still, The Matrix Revolutions is better than anything Michael Bay or Zack Snyder has ever made so i guess it’s got that going for it.
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bigowlenergy · 4 years
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reflection
Part 1 of X. Part 2; Corruption.
X
It’s 6 AM. Dark, but soft about it, and just quiet enough to make the morning commute outside Valerie’s window sound distant and pleasant. She used to think she’d never get used to the noise.
 The floor chills her feet and creaks lightly under her on her way to the bathroom. Her left hip is stiff and sore something fierce still, but the solid night of rest has helped a bit. She pauses in the little space between her room and the main room to stretch it out further, since her room is too small and cluttered for complete range of movement. Too many prototypes, she really ought to clean up in there. Not like she’d been expecting company this week.
 She’d never actually planned for Danny to ever see any of that.
The empty couch gives her pause. The thin blanket is there, rustled like it was just used, but no Danny. If he got to her own bathroom before her she’s gonna be pissed. But when she glances over, the bathroom door is ajar, no light streaming out, no loudly rattling fan. The kitchen is empty, dark, no windows on that side of the apartment.
 A cool breeze flutters the curtains over the porch door; it’s half open, like she always leaves it in the summer since the AC is shit here. The glare of morning light is angled to blind, turns the door into an empty mirror, showing only the corner of an empty couch. Danny doesn’t really have any reason to be out there that Val can think of. Maybe he’s nerding out about the last morning appearance of some star or staring at the moon again. He does that. It’s cute.
 But when Val enters the bathroom, something just barely tickles her eardrums and she freezes. The little window there has never shut properly, and the sound is too close to be anywhere but the porch beside the bathroom or the upstairs neighbors. Val steps into the bathtub and eases the pillow sheet tacked to the frame up just enough for her to peek. The open window is tilted outward, but she can just see the porch in the reflection. Barely. Bad angle.
 Danny leans against the far railing like she’s always told him not to because it wobbles. Bastard. He’s not looking at the sky. It’s too quiet to hear, but he’s clearly speaking, even though his hands are folded in front of him, no phone in sight. It could be a speaker call or something, but Val knows damn well that neither Tucker or Sam like to be conscious before noon, and the other voice she can hear now doesn’t sound like anyone she can place.
 She lifts the curtain just a bit more, squishes her cheek to the frame to catch a different angle. She can spy on her stupid boyfriend. It’s nothing he won’t tell her about later, if it matters. But she just has such a strange feeling. On edge. Her suit is a low buzz, nearly a hum, in the corner of her mind, like the too-still morning is muffling it somehow.
 It has her clenching her teeth hard enough to bother her jaw and tilting her head a bit more to increase the reflection -
 On the opposite corner of the railing is Skulker.
 Her heart freezes in her chest so fast it hurts.
 The rising sun glints off his metal suit, filters through the flames of his hair. Lights up Danny, leaning so calmly not three feet away.
 Skulker speaks again, his voice a low grating static, and Danny answers. They’re too far, too quiet, for Valerie to hear the words.
 Skulker reaches back and unequips a gun from his shoulder. Her gun. He passes it to Danny - muzzle down, fingers away from the trigger, hold steady - and Danny takes it. Her gun. He takes her gun from Skulker and he holds her gun and he pops out the charger cartridge like he knows how to do that, and then he removes the tank of experimental ecto-fluid like he knew it was there. It looks so small in his hands, filling them with pink light. A strange star on her porch.
 Danny gives the empty gun back to Skulker. The ghost stands on the railing, not so much as making it sway, and then takes off with a dull roar of his jets. It’s not until he gets a good ten feet away that her suit alarms her to the proximity. It’s so sudden she can’t help but jump. Slips in the tub, catches herself on the towel railing.
 Runs back out into the main room, hooks herself around the edge to the porch and -
 It’s empty.
 Valerie guards her eyes against the sunrise and just - stands there. Her reflection stares back.
 “Val?”
 She whips around again, smacks the curtain out of the way and stares wildly at Danny, on her couch, under the blue blanket, blinking at her with very messy hair. Her hands clench on nothing and she forces herself to breathe through her mouth to unlatch her jaw.
 What the fuck was that? Some kind of nightmare? Did she seriously sleepwalk out to the shitty dangerous porch at ass o clock in the morning? Did she dream up the reflection on the door being empty behind her?
 A door closes and she jumps. Her frozen deliberation gave Danny the opportunity to sneak into the bathroom first. Bastard. The curtain shifts in the breeze, and her adrenaline rises all the way back up into the red. The glint of her bangles glares at her from the reflection she can’t look away from.
 Valerie is - never really calm, some days. There’s always been a bitter little fire in her heart, so this is. Not good. Not great. This morning is already off kilter in the worst way and she’s going to be dealing with it all day, she can just tell. The stress of it settles behind her eyes, in her teeth, in the invisible lines of her suit, running like phantom wires through her aching muscles.
 It only takes a few seconds for her to give in. Danny’s bag is on the other side of the couch, and it takes three quick stomps to reach it. It’s the same space bag he’s had since Freshman year, when it looked hilariously huge on his tiny frame. Now it’s beat half to death and missing more than a few teeth, with ancient hair ties wrapped through the empty zipper pulls barely keeping it usable.
 There is zero hesitation in Valerie’s hands as she works it open. It’ll be quick, just a peek inside while Danny’s occupied, a quick look at the glowing pink fuel tank settled beside his single class notebook and a bunch of scrunched up tests, that’s all. That’s all.
 It isn’t there.
 His bag is a mess of tests and single notebook and no pencils and tons of food wrappers, as usual. Nothing incriminating. A single blaster in the front pocket, courtesy of his parents. Might as well be a thing of mace. Nothing there.
 It isn’t there.
 Valerie isn’t quite there either as she closes the bag and sets it back behind the couch. Then she’s in her room, but still not quite there for the ride. She’s never felt so unsettled in her life.
 She goes back to bed.
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maljic · 4 years
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i have been working in the grocery industry practically my entire life. for many companies, and in many many positions. i’ve seen hurricane panic buys, i have seen post hurricane apocalypses, i have closed stores, and i have opened stores. i have been to backroom recoveries, i have worked small stores and big stores. i have seen h1n1, and i have now seen covid19. and even tho this is something unprecedented, all together it’s really not. the difference here is that it’s been going on for three weeks now and there is no end in sight. the duration is what’s so new. 
so i’ve started making notes every day after i got home. just the overall experience, but also customer comments and new things being implemented. it’s a fascination change, and i wanted to write it down to maybe sometime in the future come back to this time and remember anew. 
i plan on keeping notes for the foreseeable future, to keep writing a diary of sorts, to see if this ever levels out or escalates even more, if things change drastically or not at all. and if the fucking toilet paper situation ever goes away. 
things started to change the first week of march. it was super subtle, i didn’t even notice it at first. it was just a steady increase in business. a solid 20% ahead in sales all across the board. and even tho the virus was already in the news it didn’t cotton on right from the start. or it did, maybe, but i wasn’t expecting it to escalate to such heights.
tuesday, 03.10.2020 9am - 5pm
people are making their own hand sanitizer by mixing rubbing alcohol and aloe vera. we’re out of both. lady is asking me by the sun tan section about the state of deliveries of aloe vera gel. we get to talking. i admit that i don’t understand the people’s need for hand sanitizer since the cdc and every doctor ever recommends hand washing first and foremost. Susan comes out and says, ‘well the only thing that really can safe us from all this is...” and i retort with, “washing your hands, right?” but Susan claps back with, “the lord jesus christ.” and i had to excuse myself real quick and leave her ass on the aisle, because why are you fucking here then trying to potion together your own hand sanitizer, Severus, if all you need is god? 
a grown woman that’s working at the register is. coughing. non. stop. co workers comment on it to each other and to me, and i wonder if anyone has taken her aside to explain the current state of world events to her, and maybe asking her to cover her damn mouth. we’re all gonna die.
thursday, 03.12.2020 2pm - 10pm 11pm
parking is an absolute nightmare. i’m 10 mins late cause i can’t find a spot. welcome to hell. i ask my boss what the sales were yesterday and she says we’re 40% ahead of the forecast. which is ridiculous. at this point it’s pretty much a blanket permission for over time. we do not have the capacity to continue to run at this pace. people get worn out, we’re bound to get sick, and the customers are fucking relentless. truck is big. Karen and her brother Chad look at the soap section and wanna know when we get more hand sanitizer in. 
this lady is looking at things in the cold and flu section and we get to talking about shit and she mentions something she’s read on facebook and whoops my filter went poofgone and i tell her that i hope facebook dies along with all this corona virus flu and have a good evening.
at the end of my shift after we’ve finished stocking and cleaning up, i stay longer because there’s still a fuck ton of people in the store but we only have two registers open. i check people out until 11 and then peace out. one dude dropped $650 on groceries.
friday, 03.13.2020 11am - 7pm
“where is the hand sanitizer?” Karen asks. i refrain from shouting at her to get outta my face. the store is absolutely packed. lines of lengths i haven’t ever witnessed. lines and lines of people with full bascarts of stuff. the end is nigh and we are here with a front row view of it. we have a small parking lot, and i have no idea where these people’s cars are? i didnt know we could fit that many people in the store. whats the fire marshall’s max capacity guidelines? someone should review those. meanwhile i’m trying to navigate around everybody and put things on shelves that don’t last very long.
the grocery truck arrives around 3 ish and paper products get thrown out first. usually, when the truck arrives it stays locked until the night crew shows up. we’re set up to always have a trailer at the store, so when the guy shows up he unhitches his trailer, and hitches up under another trailer which was the previous day’s grocery truck, which got emptied off groceries when the night crew stocks, and then got filled with stacks of empty pallets, paper bales, and other reusable thinks like plastic trays the meat comes in, or the eggs come in, or produce plastic trays, things like that. so now that we’re in the apocalypse of paper products, the day crew gets those pallets out on the sales floor asap. at this point we have reduced the quantities of things you’re allowed to take to 3. 3 packs of toilet paper, 3 packs of paper towels... also 3 of lysol wipes and 3 of hand sanitizers even tho we dont have any, calm down, Karen. paper products are gone within an hour. 
my company makes an absolute killing that day.
saturday, 03.14.2020 10ish to whenever. 
my boss said she was coming in (on her off day) so i said yo, mind if i sleep in a bit? i was scheduled 7am and if i don’t have to i don’t want to. she said ok. i rock up at 10:08. things stop showing up on deliveries. the diaper area is sad looking. people have started to buy us out of baby wipes. there’s a problem coming at us in about 2 months. you cant flush baby wipes but since the toilet paper situation is what it is, people will wipe their butts with wet wipes. have fun with that, dallas county utility department (or whoever messes with the water wastes). 
displays are dwindling. we are not getting product, so we are filling the shelves in the aisles with the stuff that’s on displays. it’s a bit wonky looking. there’s half an endcap with shampoo and then the rest of it is filled with hersheys. its upside down world. but we have to keep things full. with whatever. empty shelves are bad bad bad, but empty endcaps are a cardinal sin. 
people waste so much food when they’re shopping. now that the shelves are getting and staying empty, people will just put things everywhere when they decide against buying the items. bags of chips, six packs of beer, gatorade whatever. that’s not really waste. but we also see bags of salad, frozen items, meats. we are currently not in the position to walk the store every half hour and collect these things. these things are all now wasted and will get thrown out. not the chips, i’m talking about the temp controlled things. being cold to the touch is not enough. shit aint safe. 
monday, 03.16.2020 8am - 4 pm 6pm
truck is gigantic. never ever have i seen a truck that big. so everything that my boss was fantasizing about me doing gets thrown out the window when the truck hits the backdoor at 11 am. everybody who is scheduled for truck is given the option to come in early. and stay until it’s all stocked. or until you’re exhausted. i help with the pharmacy stuff because that’s the biggest part. i stay until 6pm. then i’m out. 
people would like to know where the hand sanitizer is, well, sugar, so. do. i. it’s the one item that has been out since the end of february, and people are absolutely gob smacked when you tell them it’s currently unavailable. i try to appease them with some hand soap, but, stupidly, people dont want to hear that. i’m thinking to myself that in about a week soap will also be unavailable, but to each their own. customers believe that we, the workers, know the exact day and time when lysol wipes will be stocked. but when you tell them that soap is getting scarce they look at you like you’re speaking a different language.
company wide, we are not allowed to order anything right now. which is huge. how it usually works is: our system knows at all times how many items we have in the store, as per bar code, and knows how much will fit on the shelves, how much we’re selling every day/hour, and then there’s the forecasting factor. so the system will order stuff based on sold quantities, automatically. all the time. if we need extra stuff for sales and/or displays and whatnot, we order extra. 
the computer system wouldnt know, for instance, that there was a tornado in oct that wiped out our electricity and that of most of our customers, so we changed orders to reflect that. no frozen things, lots more batteries, ice, coolers. 
a lot of things ride on added orders, which are now out
from here on in, everything is up to the system, and to the powers that be. if there’s soap in the warehouse, we will get allocated with every store in the area so that everyone gets equal amounts or close to. hoarding is, apparently, frowned upon at this level too. 
tuesday, 03.17.2020 2pm - 10pm
i have come to hate the soap aisle. used to always be my favorite. so long, soap aisle, we’ve had a good run. tonight i’m stocking the pharmacy area (cold and flu, pain meds, tummy stuff, those sort of things). truck is small. super small. i try helping customers as much as i can, but most of my end of the conversation is no, sorry, we dont have any. backstocks are dwindling. the backroom is emptying out. we rely on truck deliveries for things to do and products to be put out. “do you have any [insert product here] in the back?” is the most asked questions. “there’s nothing in the back.” is the most uttered sentence all day. 
people obviously do to not get what social distance means. every aisle is packed with shoppers. i’m wasting a lot of time trying to stay out of people’s paths, but people lingeeeerrrrr what the fuck. the mayor of dallas shut everything down to flatten the curve yet here all these fuckers are doing their god damn grocery shopping like it’s 3 months ago. get in, get stuff, get out. i try conjuring up some gas to clear the aisle, but the farts won’t come
go home, people. i wish i could.
somehow our store has become the hub in our area. we get trucks in the afternoon with produce and meat, and people from other stores around us show up in trucks and suvs to transport product between stores. i’ve seen so many people that i hadn’t seen in years because they’re coming by getting shit in the afternoon. 
we lost one of our baristas. she’s retired but works with us the maximal allotted hours per week the government allows you before they yank your money. she’s living in senior housing (cause its cheap) and they’ve completely locked down and she is unable to come to work. her boss funnels her groceries. and they face time a lot. she’s doing ok.
wednesday, 03.18.2020 10am - 6pm
parking lot semi full, too full for a wednesday. toilet paper situation is unchanged. but alas there’s no grocery truck scheduled tonight so this is not changing until tomorrow. i’m talking to three separate people desperate for some toilet roll (lol, i love how this pandemic makes me learn new terms, hi, united kingdom, i see you - toilet roll, i love it). anyways, i explain to all three the truck schedule and how to best strategize to get some butt wipes: truck is 6 days a week, wednesday being the no truck day. when the truck arrives, usually what happens is that the paper products get stocked immediately, to make room in the back room and to alleviate the situations. be in the store at around 3ish? 3:30ish, and hang out. i explain that i don’t want to encourage anybody to spend their afternoon in the store for obvi reasons, but when you gotta go you gotta go. alternately, hang out in your car, and when you see a truck pull behind the store around mid day, chances are in about 30 mins you shall have paper. people appreciate the info. 
i’m in the candy aisle trying to stock a case of twizzlers. we’re using shopping carts to stock, it’s way more flexible than lugging around huge stocking carts, especially now with the store being so crowded. this dude rocks up and asks me if i’m panic hoarding with all those boxes in my cart. he looks at me with a straight face and thinks he’s making a point. meanwhile i’m in full uniform and people around are starting to roll their eyes. i drop the box of twizzlers into my cart (its super heavy and dude is creating a scene). my box cutter comes out and i make a show of clicking the blade out while explaining to douche canoodle that i’m working here, excuse me, and cut into the tape of the box. moron. 
there’s a few people that i’ve seen every day this week. and they’re all advanced in their age. i get that the store is your second home cause you’re lonely, but right now is really not the time. go home. 
the question i hate the most is: when are you gonna get more soap in. the honest answer? no fucking clue, Karen. if i could predict the future i wouldn’t be working here. 
thursday, 03.19.2020 10am - 6pm
there was no grocery truck last night so shelves are still as empty as they were when i left last night. still, parking lot is semi full. we’ve seem to have gotten a decent produce truck, bananas everywhere. great. my boss’s plan for me is to: whatever truck is back there, and then easter. which means i walk the back room, collect anything and everything that belongs to our department, and get it on the shelves. there’s nothing back there except a chocolate delivery which arrived on the dairy truck. a huge amount, by normal standards. at least people are still enjoying some candy. 
by 3pm it’s made the rounds that one of the guys for our dept isn’t coming in: allergies. okay then. truck is not too big, i help out with that until it’s time to hit the time clock. 
times are tough, and i’m a good-natured person that can dish out jokes and emphasize with you and cumbaja we’re all in this together and all the other bullshit we’re telling ourselves to make us feel better. but when dudebro comes down the soap aisle and bemoans the state of the shelves (empty) and then goes into a rant about his two parents, immunocompromised, at home, out of soap, almost getting loud and making it seem like its my fault that we don’t have what you want, then no. i’m all out of fucks to give. meanwhile, people of the free world, have you forgotten that hand washing soap does not only come in little pump bottles that you can cutsify your sink with but also LOOK AT ALL THE BARSOAP, back in the days we used that to wash our hands. calm down and take some irish spring to your parents. 
grocery truck arrives. big time. in the good ole days of yester year we would get one trailer daily, most of the time not even full. we’ve been ramping it up to 2 most of the last two weeks. (and by we i mean we as a society, buying everything on the shelves and not being satisfied and always wanting more).  today it was three. one of which with nothing but water. the others with lots of toilet roll and paper towels. and the usual stuff of canned goods and the likes. nothing will last tho, nothing is forever. 
we have this one guy who works here who has, i believe, severe arthritis and is hygiene wise very challenged. he isn’t very mobile and does super light duty but he’s worked here a long time. i haven’t seen him in a few days. i wonder if he is just off, or if he said fuck it and stayed home. 
the grown ass woman at the register is still coughing. and not covering her mouth. asswipe. 
saturday 03.21.2020 7am - 3pm 6pm
“when do you expect more hand sanitizer in?” 
i have no idea what you’re talking about, hand sanitizer was never a thing. lemme ask you this: is it berenstein bears where you come from? 
people still want to shop brand loyal. i die inside a little bit every time someone turns their nose up at an alternative to their regular, “oh but we don’t use that brand.” dude didn’t you just say you needed vitamin c? was that a lie? here’s the damn vitamin c. it’s vitamin c, not, i don’t know, fucking coca cola. go home.
corporate finally came down and said we’re allowed to wear ppe now. like some of us haven’t since three weeks ago. i finally turned and went all ‘two by two hands of blue’ as well, and it’s really not as bothersome as i thought it would be.  
weekends are now slower than weekdays. i have no idea why that is. and i’m not really sure if these past weekends have been slow, or just normal, and the weekdays are just crazy. i have lost all points of reference. it’s still busy. but is it the same busy it’s always been on a saturday and now we just have more checkers? 
the company is desperately trying to hire more people. i don’t know if the new vigorous ad campaign is working yet? it’s a job, sure, especially in these times, but the starting pay is still barely above minimum wage so in any case people will collect unemployment which could still be more than they’d make working here i’m just saying. 
the only real perk right now is that whoever works for a grocery store has first dibs on stuff. and if you believe we don’t have a “family and friends stash” in the back of all the items that are scarce then you don’t know how the world works. a friend of mine with health problems came to shop at our store today because we do have more stuff than what i’ve been hearing is going on in surrounding areas.  and i was able to give her two cans of disinfectant wipes. another friend asked me if we had any loo roll, and they just came by my place to pick it up, cash on arrival. 
we also extend (or well, i do extend) the stash to customers who always have been courteous. and believe me, after working in one location for a few years you know exactly who’s an asshole and who isn’t. we are essential, we are important, and we’ve been known that forever. we just never got treated like that. people are thankful that we’re working, that we’re doing our best (like if we could afford to just take two weeks off to self isolate, yeah right), and it’s good to finally walk the store with your head held high, to finally feel the appreciation. we are the kings of the toilet paper and it’s fucking fantastic. 
the store manager (or the company, i’m not sure) bought lunch today for everybody. and there might be a texas rule of no gatherings of more than 10 people, but y’all should’ve seen the break room today at noon. we they feasted (i took two slices and went out back to enjoy) thanks for lunch, boss. 
we still haven’t implemented “senior hours,” and i hate that. 
hygiene challenged dude is back at work. so he just had his two days off. 
monday 03.23.2020 12pm - 9pm
people keep insisting on shopping “normally” and it’s mind boggling. if you go to the store for 5 things or 50 things, it’s fine either way. but please make a list at home and roll with it. do not linger in aisles, do not pick up 3 different items and stand there to study the, i don’t know what the fuck, ingredients? country of origin? manufacturer? i have no earthly idea why you gotta look at a bottle of suave shampoo so intently and just. stay. there. reading it like its a new product on the market. go home.
people just waste so much freakin time in the store. they run into acquaintances and have to have a conversation right there when other customers have to walk around you. please stop, please please stop that. please. get in, get your stuff, and get out. if we dont have your fave available right now come back next week, it’s bound to be back unless it’s something like hand sanitizer or over the counter meds. please. go home.
the shopping pattern has changed. there’s all the action in the mornings now. tons of people, full parking lots, all in the morning. i understand it’s because people are under the impression everything gets restocked over night. which is half true. but whatever. i mean people shop all throughout the day and it’s still busy but the bulk is in the morning.
speaking of: senior hours finally!!! i’m stoked.
i feel like i’m getting fed up with customer questions so it’s usually short retorts and no eyes contact. one guy asked me where the aloe vera is and he asked very friendly and from a few feet away and i was sort of a dick to him. i felt bad immediately and rephrased my answer. yikes.
on the upside also, my work buddy was throwing water all day long. poor guy. he said something like 9 pallets of 24 packs. at one point they were replenishing a display and people grabbed water from the display instead of the pallet, and he was like, “you guys are killing me, man, please take it from the pallet and not the display. every pack you take from the pallet is a pack less i have to move.” a couple of dudes then took over stocking duty from him and threw the rest of the pallet to fill the display. how fucking nice. good eggs all around.
backroom looks like we got a crap ton of paper products. a crap ton. something like, i’m estimating, 12 pallets. so they’ve been staggering it throughout the afternoon but also kept lots in the back for senior hours tomorrow morning. it really looks like that part is getting almost back to normal. lmao fingers crossed.
no eggs tho, today. all gone.
hot shot trucks still show up in the afternoon with produce and meat. and other stores still come by to transfer stuff to their location.
company lunch today was from torchy’s taco. i abstained cause i had just eaten at home. but gatherings of 10 or more people had been had in the break room again. no idea if it was paid for by our company or if torchy’s was just getting rid of a bulk of their perishables.
some dude threw a fit about the limits on certain items. i think his beef was with water and how he’s seen someone take more than three. calm down, asshole.
tuesday 03.24.2020 10am - 5pm 
it’s slow in the store. dallas county has a shelter in place ordinance right now and it’s just a slow and steady trickle of customers. the weather also has turned from grey and misty, to sunshine and 80ies. i hate it. i want my grey and misty back. and because it’s nice outside there’s a lot of people on walks and bike rides. there’s a trail behind the store and when i step out back i see people all the times. still keeping their social distance but people non the less.
we’ve finally got our hands on one of the people from the agency that has provided us with help. our girl is super nice and friendly and she works hard. i hope we’ll get to keep her in our department for however long theyre working with us. altogether there’s about 15-20 people in the store from the agency. they’re tasked with sacking groceries, cleaning shopping carts, cleaning shelves and helping to stock. it’s wonderful. they get paid $13, which is more than what you make starting out in the store.
it almost felt like it wasn’t a covid day. after what the covidiot in the wh said on monday, i was a bit unsure if non essentials would reopen (especially since the mayor just shut dallas down). it was weird. it seemed like customers stayed away because a) they went back to work or b) it’s too nice to grocery shop. but that’s prob only my stupid brain making things up.
there were two incidents, both of which weren’t covid related but needed security: a dude tried to walk out with two cases of beer (theft is a thing that happens in our store a lot) but somehow he had half the store chasing after him. i was outside taking my break when all the sudden this guy comes towards me with beer in each hand. where i was, there was no exit away from the store unless you wanted to jump the fence. and he sure did. launched himself and the beer over it. they chased him off (no one touched him, i wanna add, and no one would touch him too, even if we weren’t in the current time),  but got their beer back. that was an adrenaline shock i didn’t need. the second one was a lady at the pharmacy not happy with the speed of the pharmacist and she got upset that her meds weren’t ready to be picked up. she made quite a scene with cursings and such so security was called. they are doing their best at the pharmacy but just like every other department they are swamped with prescriptions.  
it was super slow and i left an hour early. went home and ate and passed out for 12 hours.
wednesday 03.25.2020 7am - 3pm
it’s probs the first time i’m on the road this early on a weekday during the self isolation period. it’s quite busy on the highway. but still no real traffic.
store is still slow but steady. i see a few customers with big bascarts and shopping lists going about their business urgent like. on the inside i was applauding their readiness and their commitment for getting it done. thank you dear customers. buy a whole cart and get the heck outta dodge. *chefs kiss*
help girl from the agency is with me today. i like her more and more. she gets it all done. baby wipes are still off and on, some days we have them, sometimes we’re out. we found 3 small cases of hand soap in the back (6 bottles each) and they are gone quickly. i’m working through shippers/displays (we’ve finally got a smattering in) but most of it goes straight to the shelves. i’m able to make some sense to one of the half shampoo/half hersheys end caps, and my eye finally stops twitching from the weirdness.
grocery truck schedule has changed and now we’re getting them also on wednesdays (for the time being). one trailer of toilet roll and paper towels, and one of canned goods and boxes and pantry stuffs. and maybe some lysol but who knows.
it’s still sunny and 80ies out, so more runners and bikers on the trail behind the store. still social distancing tho.
the news said someone from a grocery store of another chain was diagnosed. and then through the grapevine i heard that someone from our chain (not our store) also got diagnosed and is in the hospital. wash your hands. get in, get your stuff, and get out. stay safe out there.
friday 03.27.2020 9am - 5pm
there’s this lady in the store, little old lady, just wandering and shopping and whatnot for, i kid you not, 2 hours. what in the world? she’s wearing a mask, kinda like a “let me put this mask on cause i’m sanding something in the garage” you know that kind of mask. but it’s only covering her mouth? what is she doing. where is your family? do they know where you are and what you’re up to. seriously someone come get their auntie.
there’s stickers all over the floor by the registers “PLEASE WAIT HERE” reminding people to stay the heck away from each other. it’s working sometimes. people are patient.
this one lady asks me if we have this, and shows me her phone with a pic of the item like she is seriously standing 6 feet away stretching her arm as far as it’ll go. i appreciate it. she insists that the app tells her it’s in stock here. i ran out of ways to explain that the app doesnt keep up with inventory, only states that we carry it, not whether we actually have it in stock. it’s a surface disinfectant. we dont have it in stock.
rando people say their thanks that we’re working, that they appreciate it, thank you thank you. i have yet to learn how to respond to that. “youre welcome?” “oh sure!” “no problem” nothing feels right. me and my co workers all wish we could work from home, or take a few weeks off, without losing our jobs and benefits. it’s weird. how do you respond to that?
we’ve managed to stay in stock on toilet tissue all day long. one brand, one size, mind you. but! all day long! yes, toilet paper, on aisle 18!!!!
sales have leveled. business is returning to normal.
saturday 03.28.2020 7am - 3 pm
some lady lost her cool today and in her frustration she dead ass kicked over a display of gum. lmao, yikes.
every morning we have a little meeting in the store for all the department heads, or if they’re off, for whoever plays department head for that day. on saturdays that’s me. we call them huddles, although now we can’t call them that anymore because huddle doesn’t really scream social distancing. so now they’ll call it morning communication.
while walking the store today i found, get this, a bottle of purell. it was hidden behind other product. i immediately checked my surroundings (no one there) and then went and hid it in the back room. my immuno challenged friend had asked me for some for a while.
really nothing else going on. it was quiet in the morning and then a storm blew through, and then it was just gorgeous out. so the store got busier and busier. our truck was scheduled to be quite big, but it was late and i wasn’t gonna just hang around until who knows when.
monday 03.30.2020 2pm - 10pm
the break room is completely empty of chairs and tables. that’s new. just last week everyone crowded in, employees and management alike, whenever there was free lunch. and even tho one tells them, or points out that, hey, this is a bit more than technically should be in a closed space like this? all one gets back is, oh hahaha, yeah you’re probably right, but nothing changed. so now the break room is empty. only, i dont know, everyone here works on their feet, either standing (poor checkers) or standing and walking. for up to eight hours. there’s gonna be some people who will just have to sit down for 30 mins during their breaks. this was a company wide, or district wide decision, this wasn’t something our management came up with. and here’s the thing. admittedly, some higher ups in our company are seriously not the sharpest tacks in the box. and i’m not saying that you have to have a degree to make certain decisions, but it helps if you have some sort of,  i don’t know, compassion, deductive reasoning, two brain cells to rub together. i, personally, will hardly be found in the break room, i don’t use it. but it’s absolutely clear to me that taking away the opportunity to let people rest is a recipe for disaster.
tuesday, 03.31.2020 2pm - 10pm
so, the owner of the dallas mavericks (basket ball) donated hand sanitizers to our company, for use of company employees. which, thanks, Mark, that was super sweet of you. no really. IF I SEE ONE CO WORKER USE THIS INSTEAD OF WASHING THEIR HANDS I WILL NOT BE MADE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS. wash your god damned hands people. hand sanitizer will never be able to do what soap and water can do. why is that such a big problem to understand.
the break room has a couple of chairs and tables in it now, and a sign on the door that reads “6 people limit, 6 feet apart.” yikes.
its the end of the month and people got paid so the store is getting busier. tomorrow is the first and i’m sure we’ll be packed. please take the following to heart: SHOP ALONE. don’t bring your wifey or hubby or roommate or kids. ok bring your kids if you have no one to watch them. do not use the grocery store as your family outing cause its the only spot you think youre allowed to go. it’s not. youre allowed to go for walks, in front of your house, in your neighborhood, heck, walk a circle around the store if you want, but don’t bring everybody into the store. social distancing is easier achieved if there’s less people to stay away from. be smart, think ahead. and if you think that shopping with two people makes it go faster? it’s not. cause you’re gonna argue over the choices made, you’re gonna veto your shopping buddies choice of beans and your gonna walk every aisle twice instead of once. and there will be more people touching more things and i could really do with less of that.
wednesday 04.01.2020 11am - 7pm
there’s a distillery in kansas who has converted their production to make hand sanitizer (or sanitizer in general) and we have received a shipment of, i think, two pallets. the fun part? they are the size and shape of vodka bottles.
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they’re selling for $8 and we put a limit of 1 per family. they look super neat. it’s a plastic bottle, too. i don’t use hand sanitizer and i dont need it and there are people who need these i guess but i want one so badly. just as a, you know, reminder, a token, of these crazy times. i’m not gonna get one (but i kinda want one).
they have finally installed screens at the registers. and new rules came down from corporate: social distancing is the highest priority, hygiene is the highest priority. we are only going to operate 3 (out of 6) registers so that we can ensure that there’s enough space for everyone to feel safe. i have also spent 2 hours today thinning out displays that are cluttering up the sales floor so that we can encourage everyone to keep apart.
starting tomorrow, every employee will get their temp taken when they arrive to work. if the temp is too high you will be sent home (but paid for that day) and only be let back in to work if your temp stays normal for 72 hours without the help of meds.
pay has been increased by $2/h.
friday 04.03.2020 9am - 5pm
face masks everywhere.
like 80% of everybody started donning masks, scarves and homemade things to cover their lower face. face masks are a stark reminder that everyone should keep apart. it’s like an extra “hey, remember how we’re all potentially sick with something deadly? stay away.” i appreciate the effect it has.
there are about 5 different announcements over the PA, one about washing your hands and sneezing/coughing into your elbows, one about senior hours (which have changed now to tue, thu and sat morning), one about social distancing (about the length of two shopping carts!), one about “we’re all in this together” and one about us employees and how we’re doing so much more than our job right now.
ive stopped greeting customers. i smile maybe, since it’s something so ingrained into our brain, but i won’t speak unnecessarily.
the store is absolutely packed. the suggestion of staying away until the 3rd or the 4th that ive seen all over the internets seems to have cottoned on and now we’re slammed. with only 3 registers open now (to keep room between registers) the lines are down the aisles. one of the guys on the registers told me he loved it. it’s waaay less crowding around the registers, safer for the workers).
we have two entrances (the main one and a smaller one) and they closed the smaller one because it’s very tight there and doesn’t really work with trying to stay away from each other. it’s not locked, it’s just closed. no idea about the fire marshall code, but i have worked in bigger stores with only one main entrance so maybe it’s not part of any code.
i saw a woman with a vegas golden knights shirt and i miss hockey.
saturday 04.04.2020 7am - 5:30pm
my first day during senior hours, and admittedly we’ve only recently changed that but there are tons of people in the store and not a lot of seniors. but what do i know they all could be immunocompromised.
in our morning huddle communications meeting the store manager is spitting out a lot of numbers and percentiles and such, basically sales are still through the roof, even with the slower week we’ve had. it’s funny how there’s really no reference point anymore. forecasts and budgets have all been altered due to the situation but even those are still behind. the agency people aren’t with us anymore (since sunday) and i can see maybe 2 new people - but i’m not a reliable source for that because i don’t inter-mingle with other departments that much so i dont even know the regulars so i have no clue who is new. but we’re still running on basically the same people we’ve always had with this increased business.
aceotone is the new toilet paper. cant find it on the shelves, the warehouse is out and people are constantly asking for it. this one guy had me in stitches. he was shopping for the fam and had a list from his wife and you know, acetone, cuticle cream all the stuff you need to take care of your nails after you rip off the fake ones. i used to get my nails done so i gave him advice as best i could  and pointed to some products, but no acetone. about five minutes later she finds me on the same aisle again and shows me a can of paint stripper with the word acetone in huge letters on it. i died. i told him that if his wife used that they are about to have a whole other set of problems. we both laughed. he had a great sense of humor. now go home, dude.
the side door that was closed on friday is open again. not surprised.
we are getting absolutely slammed with business. it’s a mad house. you can always tell when people start to park their cars on the fire lanes around the store. there’s just no more parking.
i do see a lot of single shoppers tho, which is so great. and then you got the families just sticking out like sore thumbs. and young college kids usually shop in threes or fours. but everybody is still taking way too much time. there was an article i read on local grocers and how some already reduced the people inside the stores and how every business is going to follow suit so we will see.
we ran out of eggs. and biscuits.  and no significant numbers of paper products all week.
monday 04.06.2020 2pm - 10pm
fuck these customers, man
wednesday 04.08.2020 7am - 3pm
my company will not limit the customer count in the store. at least not in this state. when the whole thing started there was an email about store hours and they listed basically every division of our company and their changed hours - except, you guessed it, ours. i have a feeling they are going off of what other companies are doing around here, so unless theyre limiting people, we won’t. that’s my opinion. after work i realized i forgot butter and swung by a store (from a different company) close to home and they havent limited entrance either. they did have markings on the floor to encourage one way traffic down aisles, and i guess we’re gonna do that too. but nothing else. i did see smaller chains have started to limit people but not companies we’re competing with. so much for that. i guess first we need to have a few positive cases in order for them to change anything. the dollar speaks volumes, eh?
i saw this article a few days ago and i keep thinking about it. it basically sums up everything that’s going through all our minds every day. (i have no idea who this website is, i saw it and i read it and it spoke to me so dont come at me if it’s something weird - i just wanted to provide a source)
I manage a grocery store.
Here’s some things everyone should know
1. I don’t have toilet paper 2. I don’t have sanitizer 3. I run out of milk, eggs and meat daily 4. I promise if it’s out on the shelf … it’s not in a hidden corner of our backroom.
Those are the predictable ones, now for the real stuff
5. I have been doing this for 25 years I did not forget how to order product. 6. I did not cause the warehouse to be out of product/ 7. I schedule as much help as I have, including many workers working TONS of overtime to help YOU. 8. I am sorry there are lines at the check out lanes.
Now for the really important stuff:
9. My team puts themselves in harm’s way every day so you can buy groceries. 10. My team works tirelessly to get product on the floor for you to buy. 11. My team is exhausted. 12. My team is scared of getting sick. 13. My team is human and does not possess an antivirus… they are in just as much danger as you are. (Arguably more) but they show up to work every day just so you can buy groceries 14. My team is tired. 15. My team is very under-appreciated. 16. My team is exposed to more people who are potentially infected in one hour than most of you will in a week (medical community excluded, thank you for all that you do!). 17. My team is abused all day by customers who have no idea how ignorant they are. 18. My team disinfects every surface possible, everyday, just so you can come in grab a wipe from the dispenser, wipe the handle and throw the used wipe in the cart or on the ground and leave it there… so my team can throw it in the trash for you later. 19. My team wonders if you wash your re-usable bags, that you force us to touch, that are clearly dirty and have more germs on them than our shopping carts do. 20. My team more than earns their breaks, lunches and days off. And if that means you wait longer I am sorry.
The last thing I will say is this:
The next time you are in a grocery store, please pause and think about what you are saying and how you are treating the people you encounter. They are the reason you are able to buy toilet paper, sanitizer, milk, eggs, and meat.
If the store you go to is out of an item.. maybe find the neighbor or friend that bought enough for a year … there are hundreds of them… and ask them to spare 1 or 2. They caused the problem to begin with…
And lastly, please THANK the people who helped you. They don’t have to come to work!
87 notes · View notes
rankdisasster · 5 years
Text
punch-drunk love
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Billy Hargrove x fem reader
“dUDE drunken confessions are my favorite trope!!!! I can so imagine a post-starcourt billy au with a reader who maybe was his friend beforehand but they never really acted on their feelings. the reader gets a phone call at like 2am and billy's just like "listen,,remember all those hours we spent in detention with mr kaminsky? I would do it all again if it meant just sitting beside you because sometimes I look at you and I just see goddamn gold. are you sure you're literally not the sun??" requested by anonymous.
word count: 2,454
warning(s): swearing, drinking
a/n: HECK YEAH MAN I wrote this shit up in like two hours, and I’d even be open to continuing it to like a part two if anyone wanted. drunk Billy in fics is always angsty and mean, but I wanted him goofy and soft!! thank you for adding cute ideas to the drunk call trope <3
Billy huffs as he clumsily grabs the next bottle and unscrews the lid with his teeth, spitting it out on the ground carelessly and taking a good chug. It quit burning his throat as it went down a while ago, and now he just feels the weight on his shoulders finally give out. His body wiggles as he tries to stand up from the couch he’d been surfing the whole night, and he gives a lighthearted chuckle to himself at the pleasant buzz flowing. It’s getting to that point of his binge drinking where mistakes are going to be made. He has a persistent urge to break the rules, to do something he’s never had the courage of doing sober.
After no thinking at all, because who the fuck needs a brain when you’ve got booze, he picks up the phone and dials a number he’s sure as shit hasn’t forgotten and will never forget. A smirk plays on Billy’s face, a cocky, shit-eating grin that spreads like he’s the goddamn Grinch and even shows the whites of his teeth while twirling the telephone wire similar to a schoolgirl calling their crush. It rings for about thirty seconds, until he’s hung up on and directed to voicemail.
“Fuck! Don’t be a fuckin’ drag, Y/N. C’mon,” he whines as he kicks the cabinet by his knees, then hangs up and spins the rotary dial to yours again. He licks his upper lip deviously and takes a sip from the bottle he had opened, and waits for your sweet voice on the line again. All hope is lost when there is no answer once more, so he just curses and nearly chucks the phone out of desperation. Billy also thinks of leaving another voicemail this time around except more lengthy and demanding, something to grab your attention and make you talk to him again. That’s all he wants, after all. It’s been months since he’d even seen your pretty face sitting in the desks sideways, and he regrets not kissing the smile you always wore when he had you right there in front of him in detention every week.
Before getting to know you he’d settle for trying to make you laugh in the bleak silence of Mr. Kaminsky’s classroom, attempting to balance a spoon on his nose or throwing paper airplanes your way. Billy figured you were just laughing at his antics out of politeness but didn’t care to actually speak to him, that is until you threw a crumbled piece of paper at him one sunny day in regular boring shitsville of Kaminsky’s. It took him by surprise, considering it flew right to his face while he was zoning out, and he reacted by flailing in embarrassment before exclaiming a defensive “WHAT THE HELL?”. It was the most unique companionship the boy had ever had that followed after your laughing and pointing a finger at him. He had to give it to you, it was pretty funny. When he recovered from your attack, he shook his head with a small grin as he unwrapped your note, reading “heads up” in that adorable sloppy handwriting.
After that, the rest is pretty much history. Billy was hooked to goofing around with you more often, and you both always made it a point to get in trouble just to spend time together in detention. Considering this wasn’t hard at all for the blonde boy, getting into fights with guys or taunting the girls, even falling asleep mid-lecture, detention was another place to call home. You, however, chose how and when you got caught.
Billy never really did gather up the courage to say what he was thinking about day or night, how pretty he thinks you truly are and that you don’t even know it, which makes it that much more special. Not to mention the countless numbers he’d done howling with laughter at a comment you made, feeling like he just got a workout after laughing so much. He never got to tell you that those moments are all he’d look forward to day in and day out. That if his dad smacked him around if he misbehaved the slightest bit at home, or if teachers were ruthless and judgemental in every class, then he could take all that. He could take the whooping and the ass beatings and the name calling, if it meant he got to spend two hours fucking around in detention staring at you. A place where nothing is supposed to happen, and no one interesting usually attends.
Billy’s made progress gulping half his bottle, now picking at a protein bar from the kitchen, trying and failing to open the impossible wrapper. He almost decided on just eating the whole damn thing, fuck the wrapper, until the obnoxious blaring of the telephone rings. He’s quick to react, as drunk as he is, and tosses the snack he planned to scarf down before tripping to get to the phone. He picks up and holds it to his ear.
“Hello?”
There it is, that voice again.
“Heeeey. Hey there, little miss thing. It’s Billy Boy,” he draws out each word, trying to sound suave even if he hiccuped a little when he greeted you. Copying the same movements he did when he first tried ringing you up, he tangled the wire between his fingers and stared at the table dreamily, imagining you in your comfy clothes. Smiling and cozy.
“Woah, uh, hey Billy. It’s been a little while, what’re you up to calling this late?” you inquire over the phone, and he pictures you rubbing your eyes before stretching and yawning and he just wishes so bad that he got to see that madness.
“Mm, no no no. I’m curious about what you’re doin’,” he replies suggestively, smacking his tongue in his mouth.
“What? I’m sleeping, dude. I’m all for this reuniting thing, but could’ya please just have waited ‘til morning like a normal human being?” you say, growing a little frustrated at the randomness of the call and his ambiguous intentions.
“No Y/N! It’s top secret stuff, believe me. Fucking important that I call you now, at,” he bends over backwards to check the clock that glows on the microwave, “two fifteen in the morning. We never just talk like we used to, y’know since we graduated and all,” Billy complains like a petulant child, not hiding it in his voice that he’s pouting.
There’s a second of silence, and he slurs out your name to see if you rudely hung up on him again, until you speak.
“Are you calling me drunk?”
“Nuh-uh, silly goose. I never said that you were drunk,” he snorts, having to regain his balance after getting too excited and almost falling over with the phone still tucked in his right shoulder. He hears a long sigh being let out on the other end.
“Oh for fucks sake—“
“You always get so mad when you’re cute, d’you know that? Wait. I mean, fuck, lemme try that again,” the boy squints and puts his fingers on his temple to try to focus. “You’re really hot when you’re mad. There. Nailed it,” he finishes.
“Oh my gosh, you poor thing. Dude, you’re shit faced,” you crack up. “This is gonna be even funnier in a few hours. Not for you, I mean, you’ll probably have a killer hangover, but I for one am enjoying this.”
“Oh yeah? You like it, don’tcha cutie pie?”
“Sure do. Tell me more, Casanova.”
“Mmm yeah, I’ll tell you more. Right after you tell me what you’re wearing,” he chews on his lip, thinking that this is all going perfectly to plan. You double take, then decide to play along just for shits and giggles.
“Okay, you asked for it. I have my old Hawkins High gym t-shirt on, and some Spider-Man sweats on too. Oh, also some slippers, because the floor is cold,” you finish, hoping he’s satisfied.
“Noooo, c’mon. Fuckin’ lame-o. I wanna know what’s underneath,” he whines after not getting the kind of answer he wanted to get. Getting horny was always a given when he had a couple drinks, but what with having absolutely no filter and you right there on the phone, he’s getting irresistibly antsy. Wishing you were right next to him, so he could claw at your clothes and whisper his dirty thoughts into your neck.
“Fat chance there, hot-shot. What was it you were saying before? Oh yeah, about how I’m awesome and beautiful. Wanna keep goin’?”
“Ugh. Fine. If y’like lame sweet talk, then listen up, sweet cheeks. Remember all those long hours in Kaminsky’s? That old man would bitch at me for breathing, and like, existing. So, like the fuckin’ moron he is and the fuckin’ nuisance I am, I would get assigned to be there every day. I coulda ditched lots of times, just sneak through the window if he turned his bald head around or somethin’. But I never did. ‘Cuzza you. In fact, I’d do it all over again. Wanna know why?”
Billy’s now crashed into the nearest chair by the island in the kitchen, staring up at the ceiling and itching his crotch like the drunken mess of a boy he is. The clock on the microwave now glows the numbers 2:28 AM.
You’ve been stunned to silence, not quite knowing whether to laugh anymore or take what he’s saying truthfully or with a grain of salt. They always say that after someone’s had a few, that those are the times they spout about what’s really on their mind all the time.
“I-I don’t know about this, Billy.”
“Nope! Try again,” he giggles, putting the phone in a comfy spot nestled by his ear as his clumsy hands struggle to unbutton his shirt more for better comfort.
“...Cause of, cause of me?” you peep, unsure of yourself.
“Ding ding ding! Give the pretty girl a prize!” he claps his hands when they’ve fully undone the confines of his t-shirt, then laying back and sinking impossible further into the chair. He reaches for the bottle that has yet to be finished, and licks his lips as he realizes how thirsty he is for more.
“Billy don’t — stop it. Stop drinking, I can hear you. You’ve had enough,” you calmly advise, growing more nervous at the heavy weight this whole conversation has thrown at you. Since when did Billy feel this way?
“Aww, takin’ care a me. Such a sweetheart,” he marvels, blushing but keeping the bottle in his grasp. “You wanna know somethin’ else?”
“No, I don’t think I do. Not until we can discuss this when you haven’t been drinking.”
Billy chooses to ignore that and goes on.
“I’d just — when I looked at you, in detention, where we were like a thousand percent of the time together, I just. Can’t help but see goddamn gold. You’re the goddamn sun, you know that? I’m talking to the sun right now,” Billy suddenly wants to be held and nurtured, feeling tears well up in his eyes and his nose begin running funny. He doesn’t feel so good anymore.
Things are quiet on your end. Billy doesn’t know what your silence means, but it doesn’t seem too good.
“Y/N? When you looked at me, d-did you ever like, feel the same way? Look at me like that? Like I’m the sun?” he asks, desperate for your validation and then sniffled as the tears now started running down his cheeks in waves. He’s a hot mess.
“Billy... you never talked to me outside of detention. Like I didn’t exist, or I wasn’t cool enough to hang out anywhere else. I never knew...” you trailed off, trying to fight off your own tears and the overwhelming feeling his confession had given you.
“Y-You were so cool, I woulda hung out with you more if I wasn’t such a fucking bastard, or such a goddamn coward. But I miss you, and I wanna kiss you everywhere and I wish you could hold me all th’time,” his self pitying erupts to sobs as he finally lets go of the bottle that he clutched between his hands. It rolls into the floor, thankfully not breaking on the way down, but the contents begin leaking out onto the rug. Billy has yet to notice, still fumbling over his words and thoughts. He regrets getting this blasted now.
“Billy?”
“Hmm?” he mumbles, still not quite over himself as he hugs his bare chest, shirt still remaining open.
“Of course I looked at you like were the sun. Anybody who didn’t, like Kaminsky, or your fake asshole friends, they all don’t matter, okay? Please let me know if you’re hurting. Have you been home alone drinking?”
“Yeah, I have. And, and’ya really actually mean it? That stuff you said?”
“I would never lie to you. I’m really tired, and I’m so sorry for doing this to you, but I have to get back to bed,” you say, reluctantance in your tone as you sigh prettily in his ear once more.
“I’m gonna, I’m sleepy too. Real sleepy. Talk soon?” Billy asks, sounding about as hopeful as a child on Christmas Eve.
“Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”
“Mmmkay. G’bye, pretty girl.”
You let out a breathy laugh at that, then say your farewell, advising him to drink a glass of water and take an Advil before hanging up. The blonde drunk is absolutely exhausted, the whirlwind of emotions that you and the alcohol had put him through had knocked the boy right out. He face plants into the cushions of the couch for a minute, getting close to sleep until a sudden twinge in his gut pulls him up awake. He then makes a run for the bathroom, slipping on the spilled booze on the floor from earlier, and barely makes it in time. He pukes up all the drinks he had for a good five minutes, heaving sickly into the bowl and helplessly clawing at the toilet seat for a better grasp.
Once he’s sure that he has nothing left in his stomach to give, he sits up and scoots to the wall for support, wiping his mouth and hissing in disgust at the bitter taste it left. He gets comfortable even in an odd position, sitting up with his back against the wall right next to the toilet, and decides that this is where he’ll sleep for tonight. As Billy yearns for a much needed deep drunk sleep, he mumbles to himself under his breath about Y/N and her smile and the sun.
edit: there will be a sequel, writings in progress ! do not panic I swear this isn’t supposed to end bleak and depressing, I just wanted to show Billy being a hot mess. at first I kinda thought oooh this ending’s fine, if ppl want a sequel ig ill do it, but after reading it over myself I kinda went “the fuck?? this boy deserves to be happy” so I'm gonna do it. if anyone wants a tag as usual, just let me know ! & thank you for the sweet comments and reblogging, I can't be more thankful:)
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afterhoursfic · 4 years
Note
[1/2] [noncon ~21 yr old jask] jasksier walking down the street, he's been disowned by his rich family, makes lives in a shady part of town with the money he makes at a barmaid (what the fuck is that word in modern english i legit dont remember ive read so much fic😂) Geralt works in the mafia under Vesemir, he's his second-hand man, and sees Jaskier walking alone at night, humming something under his breath. Loves his carefree innocence and wants to /ruin it/. omg i love the guns kink so much😂
2/2Pullshim into an alley, cigarette in his mouth, presses gun to small of Jaskier's back "stay still or ill shoot you." Rips his clothes off, fucks him however you'd like (i imagine hard, rough, and not too painless), and then shoves a gun inside him (which is probably equally painful, if not more), just for funsies, doesnt care that his cum's gonna fuck with his gun's upkeep. "Is that loaded?" "Keep talking and youll find out" afterwards, geralt lets him go and jask asks "was it loaded" "yes."
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Warning: non con, gun kink
Hope you like it, and no worries barman/barmaid or barista I believe is the modern term anyway so you’re good XD
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It was bordering 2 am and he was very quickly losing interest in whatever deal he was supposed to be making with the fucker now 20 minutes late,. He had only stayed out so long so he could watch as the main street filtered out with people in various drunken stages, from the poor sods acting as chaperones to the ones who couldn't keep their liquor down and threw it all up on the pavement, it was interesting in its own weird way watching as other people went about their lives none the wiser as to the sort of dealings that went on in the dark.
With that thought, he deemed the meeting important enough to wait until he finished his cigarette, after that he would go home, get pleasantly buzzed on whiskey and maybe even hire some company for the evening and let Vesemir deal with the fallout tomorrow. Not that he expected a bollocking, he was punctual as always and if their clients weren't of a similar mind then it wasn't worth the business.
Eyes still watching the dwindling nightlife he caught sight of a boy leaving one of the clubs, a boy being what he was for he could barely be legal, and his eyes caught on the embroidered shirt he wore and the dark denim jeans that looked as if they'd been tailored to accentuate his ass. It was clear the boy came from money and he briefly wondered whether there may be a job in trying to blackmail the boy's parents, he half expected a car to come and pick him up given the late hour but instead, the boy wrapped his arms around himself before he ventured away from the road and down an alley he knew to be a shortcut into dingier part of town, the part where most people didn't bother to hide most of their dealings, and curiosity piqued, he followed.
He kept his distance for a while, his ears barely catching the tune the boy was whistling as he kicked a rock when he walked, the cliche sign of someone down on their luck if he'd ever seen it. It was apparent the boy had been through some sort of hardship, his clothes were tailored, his hair artfully styled and even 10 paces back he could smell the expensive cologne he was wearing, and yet the boy was out long after dark when mummy and daddy would worry after their protege and he was heading towards trouble in this neighborhood. He had been through hardship, yes, but there was an innocence to him from the way he kicked at the rock like a child to how he hummed a familiar tune and he found that he wanted.
Wanted to ruin the kids' boyish innocence and leave him broken and ravaged on the roadside and so, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, he pulled the gun from his waistband and picked up his pace until he was able to reach forward with his free hand and grab his hair to pull him deeper into the alley whilst he lifted the gun to press against his temple as he leaned forward to whisper in the boy's ear "Don't scream, I'd hate to ruin that pretty face of yours"
Shoving the boy into the nearest wall he kicked his legs apart to make space for himself before pushing up behind him so there was nowhere for him to go, he pressed against the boys back and forced him harshly into the wall before he slowly ground his growing erection to press against the boys' ass, taking far too much enjoyment from the small whimper he heard from the boy before he tried to turn his head to face him.
"Just take my money, I don't-"
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go out after dark little bird"
"Please, just let-"
"I don't think you're in any place to be making demands" Gun still fixed to the boys' temple he began pawing at the front of his shirt to try and loosen the buttons but after it took far too long to undo just the first one he grabbed at the almost silk like material and using his teeth to help get a grip on the material, managed to rip it off the boy's chest before he leaned forward to kiss and nip his teeth at his throat, feeling his dick twitch as he heard the boy panting in small uneven breaths as he bit his bottom lip as if trying to keep back the noises he wanted to make.
Shirt gone, he let his free hand trail across his chest to tug harshly at a nipple, pulling and pinching it between his fingers until the boy let out a pained cry which only caused him to shove the barrel of his gun under the boy's chin with the whispered command to be quiet, earning another whimper, before he moved to the other nipple to give it the same treatment.
Once the boy's nipples were red and hard under his hand he pulled away just far enough to tug at the waistband of his jeans to pull them along with his underwear down to his ankles, effectively trapping his legs before once again moving to stand between them, forcing the boy to press against the cold, brick wall as his still clothed dick now strained at the denim to press in the crease of the boys bare ass.
When he brought two fingers up to the boy's mouth, at first he resisted, the boy's mouth remaining firmly closed even as he tried to force it open, a feat much harder one handed so instead he moved those fingers to rub against the boy's hole, dry, pressing one of them in just barely but enough that he felt the boy clench tightly against the intrusion, soft pleas to stop falling from his lips.
"I'm fucking you one way or the other, depends how easy you want to make it on yourself" With that, he pulled his fingers away from the boy's hole and back in front of his mouth "Last chance"
He couldn't help but growl into the boy's neck as he felt a wet tongue begin to lick at the tips of his fingers, only he didn't have time to wait for the boy to kitten lick his fingers, hell he didn't want to wait so instead just shoved them straight down the boy's throat, letting out a small moan as he felt the boy gag around them and try to get any control back. He didn't let him, he just fucked his fingers into his mouth three, four, five times before pulling them out before he crouched down behind the boy, and using the gun, moved one of his ass cheeks to the side so that he could get a view of his hole before spitting on it, chuckling as he heard the boy moan and watched his hole clench and unclench at the warm spit before he stood back up and unceremoniously pushed the first finger in, he wasn't a brute after all.
As he began fucking the boy with one finger, quickly making it two, he trailed the barrel of his gun along the boy's stomach, side, across his neck, chuckling as he felt his muscles clench and small shivers pass through him whilst he began to suck a series of dark hickies onto the boy's neck.
Just as soon as he'd started, he was pulling his fingers out and in a quick movement had his dick out and slicked with spit before the tip was pressed against the boy's hole, taking far too much enjoyment at the way he felt it clench against him, already awaiting that tight heat as he began to push in, whatever protest the boy may have tried to make died on his lips and instead became a pained cry which was quickly muffled by shoving his face into the wall, as he pushed even deeper, all but grinding his teeth to try and keep control, to drag it out as long as possible as the boy whimpered around his cock.
When he was fully seated in the boy he pulled back a little just to watch as he pulled about halfway out before quickly thrusting back in, letting out a growl at the pained whimper from the boy as he began to pick up his pace and really fuck into the boy.
He had been reduced to somewhat animalistic grunts as he fucked into the boy with fervor, made better by every cry and whimper and pained groan that seemed to come out of the boy every other thrust that made him just want to fuck harder, to get deeper until the boy was nothing more than a simpering mess around his cock.
It was on one thrust that had caused the boy to shout that had him stop, pressing him close to the wall so he could breathe in his ear, gun teasing under his chin "Thought I told you to keep quiet"
"I'm sorry, I pro-" With the boy's mouth open he quickly shoved the tip of his gun past his lips, all but feeling the boys distress as his whole body clenched in fear, his hole now had a death grip on his cock as he carried on fucking into him causing him to groan as he tried to fuck even harder into him as he neared his release "Best be good little bird, wouldn't want to see you get hurt"
He could practically hear the scowl from the boy at that, he knew the irony of course, the promise not to hurt him with a gun in his mouth whilst he fucked his ass with no lube and little prep, he just didn't care and ignored whatever attempts the boy tried to make to get his mouth off the gun and instead forced it just a little bit deeper as his thrusts started to become uneven and desperate as he neared the edge of his release.
It was when he moved his thumb to take the safety off of the gun still in the boy's mouth, causing the boy to panic and try to squirm and thrash to get out of his hold that caused him to clench even tighter on his cock that he finally came with a long groan, letting the boy's movement milk as much come from his cock as he slowly rode out the aftershocks until they were standing there, the boy tense in his arms as he leisurely began to fuck the tip of his gun in his mouth just for something to do.
He ventured his free hand down to the boy's half hard dick and with a smirk on his face and a warning to keep quiet, he both pulled out of the boy's hole and took the gun out of his mouth.
"That thing isn't loaded is it?" He doesn't give an answer as with his free hand he pushed between the boy's shoulder blades to keep him fixed to the wall whilst he began to toy the edge of his gun at the boy's rim, feeling him tense up even more if that were possible "Is it loaded? Please don't, I don't want-"
"Keep talking and you'll find out" He then pushed the barrel past the boy's rim, just a bit thicker than his own dick, and into his hole, already slick with spit from the boy's mouth, but given the pained hiss and the small grunts with every little twist of the wrist, it was a lot to take. He angled the gun just a little as he began to thrust it a little deeper into the boy and it was when his breath hitched he knew he'd found the boys prostate and did his best to abuse it.
A part of him lamented the loss of his gun, already his come was starting to leak out the boy's hole even with the gun in him and he didn't want to think what inside the barrel would look like, but in his business guns were as easy to come by as candy so he didn't mourn too long as he watched the boy slowly get harder as he was fucked by his gun, unable to stop himself from burying his face into the boy's neck to hear every breathless pant and barely held moan.
"You like being fucked by my gun? Such a dirty bitch, you'll get off to anything that's fucking you" With that, he wrapped a hand around the boy's dick and stroked in time with the thrusts of his gun "Beg for me to let you come, tell me how good it is to get fucked by my gun little bird" When there was no answer he tightened his grip around the boys cock until he cried out in pain "I said beg" his voice was deeper, darker, one that brooked no argument and he smiled just a little into the boy's neck when he felt him relax just a little in defeat.
"Please, please let me come" The words were strained but his orders were followed at least so slowly he began to stroke the boys cock again "Your gun feels so good in me, I'm such a slut and your gun fills me so well" again the words are monotonous and only being said because the boy had to but it still does the job and he's sure that even then if he hadn't come already, those words would have done it.
Instead, he doubled down his efforts, stroking the boys cock furiously whilst rubbing the barrel of the gun on his prostate until the boy is shaking against him as he comes. It's only when he's stopped shaking that he pulls the gun out, wiping the edge of it against the boy's side as he leaned to whisper in his ear "To answer your question little bird"
He quickly pointed the gun deep into the alley and fired, laughing when he felt the boy jolt in his arms at the loud bang that left behind a deafening silence. Without wasting much more time he tucked his dick back into his pants and his gun back into his waistband before turning to the boy, still frozen where he was left against the wall, not even daring to breathe,
"You should be more careful out there little bird, next person may not be as nice as me" With that he gave a light smack to the boy's ass, and seemed to finally get him into motion and scramble to put what on what was left of his clothes, not bothering to spare him a glance as he pulled out and lit a cigarette before he turned back into the alley to head back towards the club.
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centuryofdean · 4 years
Text
Of Food and Comfort - Part 2
Author Disclaimer:: Marvel and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. Instead I claim the maybe not so great plot, writing and characteristics of the reader insert character. I am not a die hard Marvel fan, I haven’t read all the comics, but have watched the movies. I may get some things wrong, so please don’t hate me. I also have been incorporating Old Norse as terms of endearment.
Summary:: You worked for Tony Stark as a…mechanic of sorts. Anything around the Avengers compound that needed a technicians touch, you handled. With working and living there, you had grown to be friendly with the super heroes. Of course you had grown to have feelings for one of them. The muscled Thunder God to be exact.
Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.
Warnings:: Language
Pairing:: Thor x Reader
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That night with the movie was so long ago, you couldn’t remember all the little details. Instead you could only remember how you curled comfortably into Thor’s side. Neither of you had cuddled before, but it is something you will always remember. Especially at times like now, when you wonder how he’s doing.
The next morning after the movie night you spent the day doing your normal work, a little confused when Thor wasn’t following you around like a lost puppy dog. Instead you continued on and prepared a special dinner just for him.
Only to have your small heart break to find out he left in the middle of the night back to Asgard.
You tried to tell yourself it was nothing, don’t feel too bad about it. He had things to do there too. Don’t be like Jane, you told yourself. Be better than that. Support his life, because that is all you can do.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a month; still Thor did not return. Even though you worried for the big guy, Steve said Thor had gone for four months once. Things happen within each of the nine realms that he needs to attend to.
After a month into his absence, you met Liam.
Liam worked at the high-end auto store you visited for maintenance of the cars in the garage. You had been visiting that store for almost a year and never ran into him. Once you laid eyes on him though, it was a little breath taking. His hair was dark and thick, just wavy enough to hold a shape a top of his head. Brown eyes the same shade as warm chocolate and full lips you wanted to kiss with every breath in your lungs. Now he was a man you stood a chance with--because he wasn’t a super hero or a God.
“Hello,” he smiled offering a hand, “I’m Liam. How can I assist you today?”
“Air and oil filters,” you breathed a little harder. “For sixteen different cars.”
His eyes widened a little bit before motioning you to follow him to the computer. “It’s for the Tony Stark account, all the vehicles are saved in his database. They usually have them ready for me,” you trailed off.
“Oh! You must be Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he smirked. “I’ve heard a lot about the legendary woman who wrenches for Mr. Stark and hangs out with the Avengers.”
“That’s me,” you wrung your hands nervously. Why did handsome men always make you nervous? 
More small talk ensued while he started to ring up all the filters. You grabbed a bundle of blue paper towel and pulled out your wallet. Inside it, was full of Tony Stark’s various cards that you could use for whatever you needed. Anything. At all. It was nice being his somewhat tech assistant. Thankfully you didn’t have to plan out his life, Pepper Potts still handled that on top of Stark Industries.
“Tell me Y/N,” Liam handed you the receipt, “do you date the average Joe auto part’s salesmen?”
Two Months Later
“Tony! We already ran a background check on him four different times. One of which, you handled yourself instead of letting SHIELD do it,” you huffed while putting another pot in the oven.
The genius was propped on the counter, not helping, but watching you prepare different plates and dishes. It was Thanksgiving and Bruce’s birthday. So, you offered to make a Thanksgiving feast to celebrate the holiday with the only family you had now. It was nice to consider them family. Tony was like the older annoying brother you wished you always had.
On second thought, maybe the brother you wished you never had.
“I’m just saying Y/N, he could be HYDRA in disguise,” Tony replied curtly.
“Completely normal auto parts salesman Stark.”
Liam and you had been seeing each other for a few months, and he wanted to invite you to his family’s dinner. You kindly declined, and when you mentioned it to Steve he insisted you invited your boyfriend. Then you had to explain he wasn’t your boyfriend, but Steve wasn’t buying into it.
It must have been the time Steve came to pick you up, and Liam had his hands on your ass and his tongue in your mouth.
It was a pretty strict rule you made ever since you left high school and started college. You could go on dates and see someone, but you refused to get into a relationship with them unless you knew each other for at least three months. 
“Miss Y/N, your guest Liam Herrington has arrived. Shall we open the doors,” FRIDAY’s voice called over the intercom.
With a quick glance around the kitchen, you deemed everything okay for a few minutes while you ran down to the entrance to greet Liam. The last thing you wanted was for him to enter a house full of super heroes without someone else at his side. Your blue jeans already had flour on them, but your canvas tan colored blouse was clean for now.
Sam had already opened the door and invited Liam in. You took two more strides to grasp his hand and start to lead him through the base. “Come on now baby girl,” Sam laughed after you, “introduce us!”
“Dinner is ready,” you called behind you, “we can do introductions at the table.”
Shortly after you said that, FRIDAY made an announcement that went through the base.
The dining room held the largest table you could find on short notice. It should be large enough to seat everyone, but barely large enough to hold all the food you made--and you made a lot of food. It looked like the last supper for an army, although you have seen how they eat. Once everyone entered and started to sit, you motioned Liam to sit at the spot on your right. All you needed to do now was get plates and set them at the seats for everyone. Like always, you loved to play the hostess.
“So, everyone, this is Liam. Liam this is…well almost everyone. I’ll let you introduce yourselves while I get the plates set,” you called over the small talk.
Half of the table was already set with plates, you just needed to get the rest. Then you would pour yourself a very large glass of wine. The cooking had been so stressful you sipped on a glass here and there, but now you could enjoy it.
The noises from the dining room grew for a second, but nothing you could make out over the fan running in the kitchen. With a stack of plates in hand, you emerged and set them on the corner of the table nearest you.
“Lady Y/N!”
Only one person called you that. Every fiber of your body tensed and sung in joy at the sound of your name off his lips. You hadn’t heard his voice in so long, you could feel the heat behind your eyes start to ignite. Before you could take him in, you were lifted off your feet and encased in his warm strong arms and musk. 
“Oh, how I have missed you,” Thor’s voice hummed in your ear while he held you tighter. Had he ever hugged you before? You remembered how you both cuddled on the couch months ago.
This was so much better.
Just as quick as it started, he set you back down to correct your ruffled blouse. “What is the occasion of this feast you have prepared,” he questioned aloud. You directed him to a chair, one across from you while trying not to act flustered. With the rest of the plates handed out you grabbed another glass and some wine to pour for him.
“Bruce’s birthday and Thanksgiving,” you smiled at him warmly while you poured the glass. You turned to leave his side and return to your seat, only to be surprised to see his arm closing off the only way out. His hand was rested on Steve’s seat next to him, almost as if he was trapping you in with him. When you opened your mouth to ask him to move it, Thor retreated naturally. You were coming around to your seat as he extended that hand to Liam.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, I am Thor. Are you a new member of our team,” Thor asked while shaking Liam’s hand lightly.
“Erm, no. I’m Liam—uh Y/N’s guest.”
Thor’s electric blue hues rounded on you, eyeing your form with Liam’s arm on your chair, similar to his stance just moments ago. Something in his gaze hardened to indescribable.
Conversation flowed between everyone. It all was a dull blur. The only thing that captured your attention was how Thor’s light seemed to have flickered out. It was almost as if he was put off, like when Jane broke it off with him. Could that be the issue? Was he upset because of Jane still? Did seeing a couple happy before him remind him of his loss?
After the last bites were eaten, everyone chipped in on helping clean up the dishes. It was nice to have a crew to help with the mess of dishes that were used for the dinner. Afterwards, everyone moved to the common room to sit and drink while talking. The mood lightened and soon funny stories were being passed back and forth.
Thor smiled and quickly took a sip from his flask. It contained Asgardian liquor, something to actually get him tipsy or drunk. “Y/N and I went to the market to get food,” he said looking at you.
“Thor you always go with me,” you smirked. The wine had you tipsy and a little red in the face.
“Well we went to the market and purchased Pop-tarts.”
Instantly you burst into laughter, small tears forming in the corners of your eyes at the memory. At the time you were a little embarrassed and somewhat horrified, but now that you thought back on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Mind you,” you pointed out, “he had twelve boxes of pop-tarts on the belt. Twelve--and the checkout girl was checking him out.”
Thor didn’t roll his eyes when he was playfully annoyed, he would smirk softly and gave you a droll stare. The familiar act was heart warming, causing you to smile radiantly.
“The girl asked how many children I had,” Thor boomed in laughter. There were a few chuckles, here and there from others. “I told her we had four.”
That did get everyone to bubble up in laughter. You downed the rest of your wine and stood, ready to get a refill. “She looked so appalled,” you chuckled out. “But it was even worse when he grabbed my stomach and said the fifth was on the way.”
Liam trailed behind you while you walked to the kitchen, leaving the thunderous laughter behind you. His hands skimmed your waist while you poured more of the delicious drink into your glass. “I think I’m going to head out babe,” he murmured into your neck. After a large sip of your glass, you left it on the counter to walk Liam to the entrance of the base. The walk was a little lengthy, it involved an elevator and trekking across to the other side of the compound. It was somewhat worth it though, because once the elevator doors closed his lips crashed into yours in a deep kiss.
All the wine made it a little surreal for you, but you kissed him back anyway. If everything kept going this smoothly for another month, you would call him your boyfriend happily. So far he had been wonderful.
Liam’s hand was glued to your ass while you walked to the door. His car was parked right next to it thankfully. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he whispered, pressing one more kiss to your mouth.
“Please do,” you murmured, smiling softly and watched him get in the truck and leave.
The walk up to the common room was a little difficult to maneuver while tipsy, but you made it after pressing the level three button a few times. Your glass of wine was still on the counter. With a quick grab at it and you back to the common room.
The day had gone well. You made an amazing dinner for everyone, Liam got along well, and Thor was back. Everyone was where you left them in the room, except Thor took Liam’s spot on the love seat. You settled in next to him and continued to drink and talk with everyone.
“I don’t know if I like him,” Tony scoffed and looked directly at you.
“Like who,” you inquired confused.
“You’re boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend Tony,” you huffed.
“Good,” Clint agreed, “I didn’t like him either.”
“Do you kiss guys like that who aren’t your boyfriend,” Steve asked a little confused.
“Whoa! Why don’t you guys like him? Steve, stop analyzing my dating life, please,” you whispered frustrated. The night was going to well until now!
“He left without a goodbye to the rest of us,” Thor rumbled next to you, then drinking from his flask heavily.
“You have no room to talk big guy,” you mutter, “I always find out you left after everyone else did, by word of mouth.”
Tony waved his hands around, looking for words. Clint just shrugged, “He doesn’t seem good enough for you sweetheart.”
A quick roll of your eyes left you dumbfounded. “Then tell me oh Clint my uncle I didn’t know I had, who is good enough for me? I’m not getting any younger, and my bed gets lonely,” you reply.
Sam swept up in a large bow, tipping to the left a little, “At your service ma’am. I make an excellent bed warmer.”
The room erupted in more laughter, soon forgetting about the small bump in conversation over the dislike of your choice in men.
As the darkness took the sky, the night progressed and most of the others had become tipsy. Steve and Thor had been sharing Thor’s flask for the majority of the night. Surprisingly the super solider was glassy eyed and slurring a bit in his words. You had never seen Steve drunk before, or even heard of the man getting drunk—and you had seen him pack away quite a few beers. What was in the flask? Absinthe?
“Come on, it sounds like you guys had fun last time with yanking the hammer,” Sam nudged Thor in the ribs again. The way the words had come out had you burst out laughing, tears threatening to spill over.
Thor thrust his hand out behind your back. Suddenly a gust of wind caressed your shoulders and a slight tingle across your ass, causing you to shiver. The hammer was in his hand as he pulled it around to show Sam. “Only those who are worthy can lift Mjölnir,” he took a few steps to place the hammer on the table in front of everyone.
Sam didn’t hesitate to put both hands on the handle and yank as hard as he could. When the metal weapon didn’t so much as budge, most of the team chuckled. Steve rolled his eyes as he pushed Sam away from the hammer. With both of his hands, muscles straining, he was able to move the hammer about an inch in one direction. Thor’s smile slid off his face for a fraction of a second until the hammer remained still again. Your eyes widened, realizing that the look that crossed his face was mild fear. The alcohol in your veins made you bold in your addled mind.
Your fingers wrapped around Steve’s bicep as you ushered him away from the table and the hammer. Once planted firmly in front of it, your hands rested on your hips.
“So, only those who are worthy can lift Mojior,” you raised a brow at the hunk of blonde and muscle.
Thor crossed his arms across his chest in amusement as he smiled. “It’s name is Mjölnir. If one is worthy enough to rule Asgard and protect the nine realms, they will be able to wield the power of thunder, lightning and Mjölnir.”
“So, if I lift Mahal,” you started again, “what do I get?” It must be a competition, if you lift it, you get a prize.
His deep laugh radiated through the room, tickling your heart. It was a little hard to breathe.
“Tis not some dwarf God from your movies schat. Say it with me, Mjölnir. Myawl-nir.”
You attempted to repeat the words he said but failing miserably due to your loose tongue from drinking.
“So, if I lift Mew-Mew,” you repeated, “what do I get?”
He finally came to sit on the couch that was before the table, snuggling in next to Tony. All the team members were lounging and enjoying the show. From your understanding, the last time this happened, no one picked up the hammer either. Steve was the only one to make any progress, but still was not to lift it. Truly you knew you couldn’t, but it was endearing to see how amused he was from your antics.
“If you can lift Mjölnir, I will take you to Asgard.”
You offered a shrug, saying with your body that the prize was good enough. Ideally you wanted him to take you into his arms and—no, you cannot think of Thor like that anymore. He wasn’t—isn’t—interested. And you had Liam.
Liam didn’t have sky blue eyes that could make you melt into a puddle of goo with one glace though.
With a sigh you forced your brain to turn off while you pressed both hands to the handle of the hammer. It was warm and electrifying at first touch, almost as if you got static shock. It startled you, making your body jerk back with the hammer still in your grasp. The heavy chuck of metal followed you to the floor as you tumbled. “Ow,” you muttered.  
There, in your lap was Mjölnir.
“Holy shit,” Steve muttered.
Thor was up in an instant, coming to rest on his knees next to you with wide surprised eyes.
With one hand, you used your slim muscles to lift the hammer up in between your face and his. It wasn’t light by any means, but it was just light enough that you could wield it like a large wrench. Up close you could see the writings and geometric designs on its surface, something you never paid attention to before. Your E/C hues met sky blues over the gleam of the sleek weapon.
“My dróttning,” he murmured in awe.
“Holy shit, Steve said shit,” Tony erupted from behind Thor.
Natasha scoffed, “Fuck that. Y/N has the power of thunder. We can get rid of Thor now.”
Soon the night started to come to an end. You were most certainly drunk, legs wobbling as you teetered down the hallways to stumble to your room. Only Natasha shared the hallway with you, but Thor insisted that you wouldn’t make it to bed by yourself. Maybe he was right, because you almost ate the floor a few times. Oddly he was a little tipsy as well, because every time you almost fell, and he caught you—you both melted into the floor in a fit of giggles.
Once your door loomed up, you ran to it and slammed into the knob with a breath of air. “We made it,” you sang quietly. “Thank you Thor, what a gallant gentle-sir of you.”
“Yes, of course. You would have fallen on the ground and slept in the kitchen if I had not brought you,” he replied.
Once the door was opened, you stumbled to the bed where you sighed in relief. Now all you needed to do to finish the night is to get your pants and bra off. Your hand flicked the button open easily, then used your thumbs to push the waist down. “Thor,” you grumbled, will you take my pants off for me?”
Almost as if he was waiting for instruction, you felt his large fingers work to find the cuff of your pant legs and pull each off with little effort.
“Again,” you sigh again, “thank you.”
“Anything else I can assist you with Y/N? Do you need a…. bed warmer,” his voice was soft and murmured, almost a little gruff. 
“No,” you yawned, “it’s too hot as it is… Goodnight Thor.”
If you weren’t so drunk out of your mind, you would have thought for a moment Thor offered to have sex with you.
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