#things on my agenda for the day I work at marvel

[notebooknonbinary]

Byler Week, Day 1: Halloween

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate! (Happy s2 Byler to all) And happy first day of Bylerweek!

Today is Day 1: Halloween / AU / –gate. I chose to write a fic bc my drawing skills need serious brushing up skills and I can eventually stuff this fic into my other fic’s universe😌.

Edit: Also posted to Ao3:)

Halloween used to be Mike’s favorite holiday. He’s always loved dressing up as whatever his favorite character that year is. And he loves seeing what other people dress up as.

One year, before the Party started doing group costumes, he and Will had gone as Kirk and Spock. He’d even made the ultimate sacrifice and let Will be Kirk.

Tiny little seven-year-old Will had made an adorable Starship Captain (equally tiny Mike had thought he looked super cool). Mike’s fake ears had itched, but he’d liked the cool blue color of his shirt. And everyone that gave them candy that night had known they were a pair, which had thrilled them both to pieces.

The first year that the Party did group costumes, Mike and Dustin had convinced the other two to go as DC superheroes (Lucas and Will have always preferred Marvel). Lucas had been Green Arrow, and Dustin had picked the Flash (his favorite). Everyone had expected Mike to go as Superman, who was his all-time favorite. Except he’d gone as Batman instead and asked Will to be Superman. Everyone’s costumes had turned out great, but Mike’s favorite had absolutely been Will’s—handmade by Mrs. Byers as always.

(It seems obvious in retrospect, that Mike had already begun to get a crush on Will—which is why he’d wanted him to be Superman.)

(And then, of course, the Halloween—only a few days before Will would be taken by Vecna, the Party had dressed up as Star Wars characters. This time it’d been easy to convince everyone that Will as Luke was just the obvious, correct choice, and not because Luke was obviously the best character.)

But Eighth grade had been the last time any of them had dressed up (“Who you gonna call?”) —and it hadn’t exactly ended well.

(Well, technically that Halloween had ended with Mike and Will hanging out alone in the basement, watching a lighthearted movie and sitting close together to feel safer—so that part…)

Freshman year, Mike had been in the middle of being miserable and missing Will and El too much to even think about a costume—and last year, they’d been in the middle of recovering from an apocalypse (neither Will, nor Max, had even been awake yet).

So now there are multiple anniversaries right around Halloween that seem much more prevalent than going around getting candy (which they’re pretty much too old for anyway, in Mike’s unhappy opinion), or going to a Halloween party—with too many people they’re not friends with, and alcohol, which none of the Party even likes.

So yeah, Mike doesn’t really intend to broach the subject of costumes this year.

Instead it’s Will who brings it up. “If all I have to focus on this year are the shitty memories and handing out candy, I’m going to scream.” Then he grins, a little mischievous. “Plus this is the first Halloween that we’re dating. I’ll be able to tell you this time that I think you look handsome in your costume, instead of pretending that you, as Han Solo, didn't fluster me half to death.”

Mike, they’ve both learned, is much easier to tease out of the two of them—Will makes a game sometimes, out of all the easy ways he can make Mike blush. Like right now.

“You’re mean,” he grumbles, hiding his suddenly warm face in his hands. It only gets warmer at Will’s delighted laugh. “You wanna do a group costume with the Party, or a pair like we used to?”

“The Party’s a lot bigger than it was back then—it’d be too hard to coordinate on short notice. But…” Will trails off. Mike risks a look at Will, who is suddenly much closer, smile softened but eyes still bright with mirth. “I think, Michael, that in this context, it’d be a couple’s costume, not just a pair.”

Mike resists the urge to hide his face again.

“Everyone always thinks I’m the mean one of the two of us,” he grumbles, but accepts the embrace Will is silently, cheerfully, offering—nosing into the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m gonna tell your mom you were bullying me. She loves me, you’ll get in trouble.”

“Tattletale,” Will singsongs. “I’ll stop bullying you if you let me pick our costumes this year.”

Mike, who doesn’t actually want Will to ever stop bullying (aggressively flirting with) him, cocks his head. “Alright Byers, deal.” He pauses. “And you just have to lay off flustering me in front of our friends—they already think I’d let you get away with anything.”

Will snickers. “You know what? Deal. But, for the record, I think you would let me get away with anything. Which is why, one day, you’ll go with me and El to Vegas so we can use our powers to scam the slot—”

Mike interrupts this long-running (hopefully a) joke to kiss Will. Will leans into it briefly, reaching up to weave a hand into Mike’s hair. After a moment, though, he pulls back, looking thoughtful.

“Now we have to figure out what we’re doing for Halloween.”

…

The Halloween of Mike and Will’s Junior year of high school, the Extended Party (minus Jonathan and Nancy, away at their colleges) convene on the Byers-Hopper house, dressed to the nines in their Halloween costumes. The plan is to watch minorly scary movies, eat far too much junk, and take turns answering the door for Trick-or-Treaters.

The Original Members of the Party (including Max) show up early to help set up.

Dustin is in a full suit and tie, a gun holster (with two full water guns in it), and a fedora. The entire setup is impressive, but none of his friends can guess who he’s supposed to be. The only one who understands who his character is immediately, is—oddly—Hopper.

“Elliot Ness.”

“Yes! Thank you!!”

It turns out that, having recently seen the Untouchables, Dustin had gone on a research spree about the Real-life man, and been fascinated. Thus, his choice of costume.

Lucas and Max have decided against couple costumes. Instead, Max wanted to go as Wonder Woman, so she has (and she looks every bit the Amazon warrior, sitting in her wheelchair like it’s a throne).

Lucas, on the other hand, has finally been able to be a Marvel superhero. After long deliberation between all of his favorites, he’d finally settled on Falcon—partly because he enjoyed the recent comics miniseries, but also because if he’d gone as Spider-Man (his other big choice), he’d have to keep removing the mask to eat.

“Falcon is just cool enough to date Wonder Woman,” Max tells him, mock-loftily.

He laughs, leaning across her lap to give her a kiss. “Well, Wonder Woman is more than cool enough to date Falcon.”

This being one of El’s first actual Halloweens’, she chose to go as the ghost she’d wanted to go as on her first Halloween—though the simple sheet had been switched for a white dress, pale makeup, and fake blood (with the occasional appearance of actual blood when she used her powers to get another soda, or pop Mike across the head with a pillow).

Steve and his group seem to have collectively decided to go as the Breakfast Club (or perhaps Steve is in regular clothes, it’s hard to tell). Robin, dressed as the outcast girl, is lounging across Vickie’s (dressed as Molly Ringwald’s character) lap, attempting to toss popcorn into Steve’s mouth. She’s largely just making a mess, but neither of them seem to care.

The (actual) adults of the bunch settle in the kitchen. Joyce convinced Hopper to do a couple’s costume with her (they’ve gone as Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein), but Murray shows up wielding a bottle of something very strong for them to drink and wearing just a dollar store cape over his regular clothes.

(Erica, out with her other friends for one last candy-haul before high school next year, will come at eight-thirty. She’s dressed up as her DnD character, Lady Applejack. She has no plans whatsoever to share her candy—even though she knows she probably will end up doing so.)

Joyce had been overjoyed to see what costumes Mike and Will picked this year.

She hadn’t been the only one.

When Will told Mike what costumes he wanted, Mike almost cried. He is (not so) secretly a sap, and Will knows it (though Will isn’t much better on that front, honestly).

“Shall we, Mr. Spock?”

“Indeed we shall, Captain Kirk.”

It’s the best Halloween yet, in their opinions.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Lay all your love (on me)

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get hired to be Elizabeth’s love interest in her new movie and nothing could prepare you to how your life would change upon meeting her

Disclaimer: English is not my first language

MASTERLIST

When you got the call that the part on the upcoming rom-com was yours, you could barely believe it. It took you days and actually signing the contract to fully believe that was about to happen - you finally got an important part in a big movie with some big stars. After struggling with your career for years now, that was very refreshing.

You didn’t know much about the movie plot at first, just a few bits that were enough for you to know you would be the romantic interest for the protagonist, but that was about it. You didn’t know who the protagonist was going to be - you were fairly sure they hadn’t hired anyone yet - but that didn’t stop you from going out with your friends to celebrate. It was a big moment, something that could really change your career, so you held nothing back to party and have a great time.

Weeks later, you were informed your romantic interest had finally been chosen and you almost yelled from the top of your lungs when the name Elizabeth Olsen was announced. Of course you knew who she was and was so, so, so excited to work with her. As soon as her name was announced, the media started giving the movie much more attention as well and you could barely contain your excitement to get the shooting started. You got to work with a Hollywood star who made several Marvel movies and a very successful TV show, not to mention all of her other works that you were a big fan of. Not only that, but you would play a couple and you couldn’t wait until you were finally told the exact day the shooting would start.

You would have to travel to another country, but you weren’t too worried about that. London was a nice place to be for a couple of months until you guys wrapped the movie, even if you would live in a hotel for that time being. You even got to the city a day before she had to just to make sure you weren’t jet-legged before going to the set for the first time. The only thing that slightly worried you a bit was that the director had forego a table reading for the entire cast, which meant you guys would only meet on the first day of working together, something that didn’t always work out the right way.

Even so, on the first day you had to be on the set, you woke up super early to be able to have a nice breakfast and get ready, and then you called for a cab to take you to where the shooting was going to happen. Most people had no idea who you were yet, but an assistant was waiting for you to take you to the director for a quick chat before going to hair and make-up. You knew the director already - since he was obviously there for your audition - although that didn’t make you any less nervous to be standing in front of him while the man talked about what was expected of you. He gave you a brief explanation of your character and how you should behave when the cameras were rolling, then you talked about the first scene you would shoot.

“We’re only going to need you after lunch since we’re shooting a few other things this morning with Ms Olsen and other characters,” he explained. “But be here around two and we’re getting started, okay?”

You could only nod along because you would never be stupid enough to disagree with someone who had been working in the industry since before you were born. “Is there anything specific I need to do for the scene? I read the script that was sent to me, but-”

“Oh, shit,” the director interrupted you with a grunt. “Bella, did we send her the new shooting schedule?” Upon seeing your panicked face and the assistant blank stare, he only sighed and shook his head. “Fine, then we have something for you to work on. We changed the scenes we’re shooting today because one of the actors had a problem with their agenda. My assistant here will give you the new part we’re doing today, so you’ll have new things to memorize.”

And that’s how your nerves got a thousand times worse.

You had been beating yourself up for weeks, putting a lot of pressure on your shoulders to do an impeccable job, to not screw over your big opportunity and, especially, to make a good first impression. You trained your lines in front of mirrors and with a close friend several times, and now suddenly things had changed and you didn’t feel like you had enough time to work on the new scene for it to be as good as you wanted it to be. However, once again, you didn’t try to tell other people how to do their job. You just accepted the new script and locked yourself with the make-up department to study the pages while they did their work.

It took you very little time to realize what scene you were supposed to be doing that day. On your very first day, nonetheless. It was a scene where your character and Elizabeth’s character held a small conversation before kissing. You were going to be kissing Elizabeth Olsen that day and you were not even a little bit prepared for that.

“You seem nervous, honey,” one of the oldest ladies in the room said when her assistant walked off to grab something.

You hadn’t noticed you were bouncing your leg until she pointed it out, but, once you did, you quickly froze and, with wide eyes and blushing cheeks, looked at her. “I’m not.”

“Everything is going to be fine,” she said with a low chuckle, clearly not believing in you.

“Yes, but…” You took a deep breath and let your eyes go through the pages again. “This is big, you know? And I’m not. I can’t screw this over.” After looking up again, you saw the way the woman was looking through her make-up kit to find something and it made you bite your lip as if you were waiting for it to be another failure of your day. “I wish I had bumped into her in the hallways or something.”

Thankfully, the make-up artist found what she was looking for and went back to her work. “Who are you shooting with?”

She was apparently used to having people freaking out on her chair and she was nice enough, kind and gentle, so you had no problem venting out to her a little bit. “Elizabeth.”

“Oh!” A wide smile turned the woman’s lips up. “She was here earlier today, obviously! She’s a gem!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Really nice person, you really have nothing to worry about!”

You hesitated for a second, looked at the scene written on the paper again, and then sighed. “Even if we have to kiss and we never even saw each other before?”

Well, the kind lady didn’t have anything helpful to say about that and you were left with silence once her assistant returned to the room. After your make-up was done, you had an early lunch break, and you ate alone inside a room while glossing over the script like a hawk. The more time went by, the more nervous you got, to the point you were starting to feel the beginning of an anxiety attack coming to bite you in the ass. That would certainly be way worse - way worse - so you decided to take a break for real and take a walk around the studio to think about anything else.

You had half an hour before having to go to the dressing room, so you walked slowly outside, enjoying the not so warm day out while taking calm breaths. You were walking for maybe ten minutes when you saw someone walking over beside an assistant and under an umbrella towards the door. Probably returning from a lunch break herself was Elizabeth Olsen, who didn’t seem to notice you as she walked. That was a perfect opportunity to pick up with her, introduce yourself and make things less weird once you two were standing in front of a camera, but you were too far away and the only way to reach her in time was to run towards her, which was even worse.

So, with a bit of dread in your heart, you watched her going inside and disappearing from your line of sight, and you were once again hit with the thoughts from before. You weren’t actually starstruck or something like that because you were professional and could get your job done, but the fear of somehow ruining things in front of Elizabeth made things worse. She had years of experience in big roles and she was the face of the movie, the protagonist. You couldn’t screw things up on your first scene.

Obsessing over it again, you went to the dressing department while chewing a mint, and popped another two before heading out, both out of nerves and because you were afraid you might have bad breath when you were supposed to be kissing someone. It wasn’t actually kissing, of course, but that would be bad. Very bad.

By the time the director called you for another talk, you had already dried your palms at least five times on the nice pants the wardrobe people gave you. He had a few things to point out, some tips and other requests for you, and you listened attentively. So attentively indeed that you didn’t notice when Elizabeth walked on set as well.

You were shooting inside a room that was supposed to look like a cafe and you had your backs turned to it, entirely missing the other actress walking behind you to talk to someone else. Once your eyes caught her, though, you felt your heart skipping a beat before skyrocketing inside your chest. You didn’t have the opportunity to be that close to her before, but, now that you had, you couldn’t help but take in all the details. From the clothes her character was going to wear, to the light make-up she had on, to the way her hair was falling in soft waves down her back.

Your first thought was that she looked beautiful, but that wasn’t exactly news. You had eyes, you knew who Elizabeth Olsen was before, and you knew she was beautiful. Although, seeing it up close, was certainly a whole new experience. The first thing that crossed your mind was how your imagination really tricked you into thinking she was much shorter than she was, though she was wearing high heels and you weren’t. Your clothes were plainly different since you were wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, while Elizabeth was wearing a ridiculously short skirt and what you assumed was a crop top besides the heels, of course.

You almost rolled your eyes at that because the director was really trying to make it clear that those characters were opposites - just like the cliche that the opposites attract or something similarly cheesy.

Noticing you got distracted by something, the director followed your eyes and quickly spotted Elizabeth, then saying something that made your heart beat even faster than before. “Elizabeth, come here please.”

You barely had the time to prepare yourself. You tried to discreetly run a hand through your hair, although you thought better about it when you remembered you didn’t have time to go back to hair and make-up, and also held yourself higher with a sudden perfect posture. If anyone else noticed it, no one said a thing, for which you were grateful.

“You know each other, right?” The director asked once Elizabeth stopped in front of you two, but he didn’t give you enough time to answer before starting to ramble about where he wanted you to stand, and what you should do, and when to tell certain things.

You kept stealing glances at the blonde woman in front of you, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer, though there wasn’t much you could do about it. The conversation ended with the director saying you had five minutes before the shooting started and then walking away to talk with someone else, and you didn’t have much of a choice but to follow one of his assistant leads to find your place to be on set. Elizabeth seemed more familiar with things and people already, and she easily sat down at one of the chairs to wait for things to get moving.

Before you realize it, someone is making you sit across from her at the table, and your nerves hit you with full force all at once. “H-Hi. So, uh, this is not weird at all, huh?”

And, as usual, you used humor as a defense mechanism.

Luckily, it did the trick because Elizabeth actually smiled at you, even if it was mostly just polite. “Y/N, right?” She asked, though she obviously knew it was you by now. Even so, you nodded to let her know she was right. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet before, but I just got here from where I was shooting my last job. They wanted to do a table reading, but I couldn’t make it and we were already on a tight schedule.”

Well, that explained some of the rush people seemed to be in. You couldn’t blame her for having a busy agenda, of course, even if that certainly didn’t help with your anxiety. You still offered her a gentle smile and waved a hand. “That’s okay. I mean, not ideal, but okay. I suppose there were worse scenes for us to shoot after literally knowing each other for five minutes,” you joked.

Elizabeth understood what you meant and chuckled - a low, deep sound that made your insides twist a bit and you just knew you would have to work extra hard to end up that job without a new crush on someone that was way out of your league.

You didn’t have time to dwell on that for long because the director soon asked everyone to be on their marks and, a couple of minutes later, he was yelling “action!”.

You did the best you could at that moment. Not your best, but the best you could. You were nervous, you were shaking a bit and your mind was running faster thinking about the kiss you would have to give Elizabeth later on the scene. Were the mints you ate enough? You brushed your teeth twice, but maybe you should’ve done it once more just to be sure. And you didn’t even have the time to discuss with Elizabeth how the kiss would play out. You would like to know if she had any boundaries she wouldn’t like you to cross or what to do with your hands. And, oh God, your palms were sweaty again, you couldn’t just put them on her face.

The first takes were a disaster. The director seemed so disappointed that you could barely look at him, but he was also looking pissed the more he had to cut a scene. The problem wasn’t even your lines since you hit them all at the right time, but it was hard to ignore that Elizabeth and you didn’t seem to have any chemistry. You were still weird around each other, albeit you would have to admit Elizabeth was doing most of the job while you were silently freaking out across from her.

It was a very frustrating two hours before the director decided to go for the kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his last try before giving up completely, something that you were sure once he decided to call it a day after the first and only kiss you shared with Elizabeth on screen. While you were moping on your chair, you noticed that he called Elizabeth into a corner and they were talking at each other in whispers, and you could swear you saw eyes snapping at you every once in a while, which only made things worse.

You felt like you had already ruined everything. The thing you were most afraid of, and you managed to do just that. No more opportunities in your career because you just proved to a very important director and a well-known actress that you couldn’t do your job.

Jesus fuck.

You left the set faster than anyone could stop you. You knew you were the one to blame for the terrible work you did that day and you wanted a few minutes alone to mop and collect yourself before someone knocked on the door to fire you. You didn’t have trailers though and you weren’t sure if there were any free rooms, so you ended up in hair and make-up again, thinking that you could at least remove it all before crying and ruining your mascara.

“How was it, honey?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the make-up artist’s voice coming from a corner of the room since you hadn’t noticed she was there, but you soon relaxed when you saw her kind smile directed at you. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie, not really, and maybe talking with someone would prepare you not to cry when you got fired for real, so that’s what you did.

“It was terrible,” you admitted sadly. “I ruined everything. We don’t have chemistry. Like, none at all. I’m waiting for someone to stop by to fire me right now.”

“Fire you? What for?”

She looked genuinely confused by it. “Well, it’s just, you know… They’re not going to fire her. She’s Elizabeth Olsen. She’s the reason why so many streaming platforms tried to buy this movie. They will realize they can find someone better to be her romantic interest. Maybe Aubrey Plaza, since they already did a movie together. They know each other, it will be easier for them.”

“So you think things could be fixed if you knew her better?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and totally missed the way the woman rolled her eyes at you while you sat down. She was finding it all amusing, even if you were on the verge of crying for ruining your career.

“You met today, didn’t you?” The woman asked and waited for you to nod. “Maybe that’s the problem. You just met.”

You thought about it for a moment, allowing her to start removing your make-up for you even if that wasn’t exactly her job, a frown permanently on your face. “You’re saying I should get to know her better.”

“Of course! Don’t worry too much, honey. It was the first day. They’re not going to fire you on the first day.”

That made sense. Now that someone else pointed it out, you could see that it was very unlikely that they would fire you after one day of shooting. Yes, it wasn’t great and they didn’t have much time to wait for you to catch up, but that only meant you had to be fast to fix things. You didn’t want to lose that gig and you certainly didn’t want to allow people to think you were bad at what you did. You were just nervous. Overly nervous because of your anxiety, that’s all. It was your first big job, you were meeting some important people, the schedule got changed last minute, and you shouldn’t have drank three cups of coffee in the morning, for sure.

You could still fix this.

You just needed to be fast.

“I’m bringing you donuts tomorrow!” You promised as you ran out of the room minutes later, but you didn’t wait for a reply - nor did you add that you would do that if you didn’t get fired.

Your optimism was back and you wasted no time to go find one of the assistants to ask what time you should be there tomorrow - just to be sure you were expected to be there tomorrow - and then you set on your mission to go find Elizabeth. You had no idea what to say or what you needed, but you knew you had to find her to, at the very least, try to change her perception of you.

You were lucky enough to find her alone looking at her phone while she seemingly waited for someone to show up in the hallway where she was standing, so you quickly walked towards Elizabeth and displayed your best smile - now much more relaxed and less nervous. “Hey, good I found you here!”

Green eyes - so damn green, you thought - looked up at you and Elizabeth put her phone away before crossing her arms and waiting for you to stop in front of her. “Hello.”

“I wanted to apologize for today,” you started and gave her no time to interrupt. “I know that was mostly my fault, well, all my fault actually.” You let out a self-deprecating chuckle as you raised a hand to scratch the back of your neck. “I’m sorry, I admit I was a bit nervous. I mean, we met literally minutes before having to shoot together. I’m not used to that.” You dropped your hand and, without realizing it, started to move them around while you talked. “We’re going to shoot that scene again tomorrow and I was thinking that maybe we should get to know each other so things don’t go as weird as they went today.”

Okay, Elizabeth’s eyes were very green. They were so light! And her nose was so cute, slightly turned up. And no one should be allowed to have such perfectly shaped lips like that, it should be a crime, really.

You got lost in your thoughts, you realized, and it made your cheeks go red so fast that you let out an awkward cough just to have an excuse to bring your hand to your face to try to cover it a bit. “Well, I was thinking that maybe you would like to go out with me today.”

That was not what you wanted to say. At all. Oh, fuck.

Elizabeth’s reaction would have been priceless if you weren’t the idiot standing in front of her. Her eyes widened, she took a step back, and her own face went pink. It all happened so fast that it took you a moment to recover as well.

“It's not like a date date,” you quickly said, desperately trying to fix what you did. “I mean, we will have dinner, talk, hang out for a bit, but it doesn't have to be romantic. I mean, it's not romantic!” You corrected, waving your hands around and standing there with your eyes almost falling from your face, and your heart beating way too fast again. Well, so much for trying to save your job. Now you were going to be let down under the accusation of sexual harassment or something like that. You didn’t know if keeping talking was a good or a bad idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop either. “I just thought it might help us lose up a little bit, you know? Get more comfortable around each other. Our first scene together was a very… deep kiss, we didn't have much time to talk before that.”

Elizabeth didn’t say anything at first, but she also didn’t look as surprised as before, so you would count that as a small victory. You waited for her to say something while changing your weight from one leg to the other, hands awkwardly crossed in front of you while also trying not to stare at her for too long. It was the way you were incapable of not being a gay mess that got you in that situation, after all.

“So…” The other woman started eventually and you felt your breath getting stuck in your throat as you waited for the verdict. “Like a dinner?”

“Yes,” you agreed way too fast, just for you then realize it would be better if you acted a bit more like it wasn’t just dinner with a stranger. “And no. If you don’t mind, I think that acting just a little bit like it's a date might help. I could open the doors for example.” Just after you said that, you realized how dumb it sounded. You placed both hands on your waist and took a deep breath. “I will stop talking now before I dig myself a bigger hole,” you mumbled shyly.

Yes, you were now getting fired.

You would have to pray not to have the police knocking on your door either.

God, you really should’ve gone to college like your family wanted you to.

“I don't dislike your idea, but we don’t have much time,” Elizabeth took pity on you, apparently, which you weren’t sure was a good thing. “We have more scenes together to shoot tomorrow.”

Way quicker than you should, you exclaimed: “We can go out tonight!” And, after hearing how eager you sounded, you were fast to add: “If you want.”

Elizabeth didn’t look so certain that it was a good idea indeed, and you pretended not to see when she glanced at you from head to toe because it would only make you blush again - you feared your face would never return to its natural color if you kept blushing like that. “Ok,” the other woman conceded finally.

It was your turn to express how surprised you were by that answer. “Wait, really? Okay! Yeah, great!” You were rambling and, once again, you couldn’t stop. “Just spectacular!” Just spectacular? Really? You had nothing better to say? Could you keep yourself from oversharing things, please? “I will, uh, go now.” And now you were stuttering as well, good. “Just, uh, I will wait for you or I will meet you at the parking lot or…?” You trailed off, now sure you should just stop talking altogether.

“I would like to go back to the place I'm staying to change, if you don't mind,” Elizabeth said.

You wasted no time to nod eagerly at her. “Of course not! That’s perfect.” Yes, because you needed to return the clothes to the dressing department and having a shower also sounded nice. You could back to your hotel and pick something better to wear. It also gave you some time to find out where you could take her. “I can, uh, pick you up if you wish and then we can, hm, go.”

Now Elizabeth grinned at you stumbling over the words and her eyes glanced down for a moment - just enough for you to feel like you could breathe again. “Sounds nice. I have your phone from the group chat they put us in today. I will send you my location when I get there,” she promised.

You sighed in relief, not even trying to hide it. “Sure, sure. Okay.” The rambling was back. “Yes. Perfect.”

“Yes, spectacular,” Elizabeth replied with a slight teasing in her tone that made you relax instantly.

You chuckled mostly at your own awkwardness and then shook your head. “Okay, now I will go.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb and saw the blonde woman smile. “See you later.”

Soon - very soon - you came to the conclusion that you were insane.

There was no other explanation, really, because you really asked Elizabeth Olsen to have dinner with you. And then you proceeded to run over your mouth and say it was kind of like a date, but not a real date. You should also not forget that you not only made a fool of yourself - twice in the same day, you might add - but you also managed to make things worse than they were before.

You were certain you would be fired by the end of the week.

But that was the exact thought that made you find enough courage to keep going with your plan. There was no way you could make things worse, you were at least sure of that. So you could keep up with your initial thoughts to get to know her a little better. You might get out of that with a friend, after all.

Also, the idea of having dinner with Elizabeth was a good one. You loved her work and you could spend some time gushing about how amazing she was - something you were sure you would find no problem in doing.

With your mind set to make it all worth it, you tried to find a nice restaurant on your way to the hotel. You tried to use your phone, but your mind was racing too much and you couldn’t comprehend the several reviews from different restaurants online. You read all of them, but no word actually stuck and you barely even understood the restaurant’s names to start with.

“Hey,” you decided to say, leaning over between the seats to get closer to your driver. He seemed like a nice guy, he hadn’t tried to talk to you yet and he put on a nice playlist, so you considered it was safe to ask him. “Do you know any good restaurants in town?”

“Depends. What do you want to eat? And what’s the occasion?”

You left his car with three options in your mind, which was great because you could call them and ask if they would take your reservation. The driver told you the name of another restaurant just before he took off, having leaned on his window to be heard by you, and you raised your thumbs at him in thanks before entering the hotel. You and Elizabeth didn’t say what time you would pick her up, therefore you decided not to take too long to get ready. You showered pretty quickly and chose your clothes after just a few minutes of debating with yourself, and then you grabbed your phone to make some calls.

Two of the restaurants didn’t even pick up the call and you wondered if they were even working that night, and the third one said they didn’t have any free tables. Luck started to smile at you when you called the fourth place the driver had said and they gladly told you they would be waiting for you at any time you decided to drop by. Relieved, you decided to check their name just to be sure you wouldn’t be taking Elizabeth to a food truck around the block. It seemed like a nice enough place, just a small French bistro that you were sure would do just great.

Elizabeth reached out about two hours after you got into your hotel room and you couldn’t say you weren’t surprised that she was still on board with that. You were half expecting her to either text you saying she couldn’t make it or just disappear all night, but you were glad to see that wasn’t the case. After calling for another cab, you took one last look in the mirror to make sure you were looking somewhat good enough, and then you left to meet her.

The address she sent you wasn’t from a hotel and you soon found yourself in front of a building. You texted her to let her know you were there and, after asking the driver to wait for a minute, you exited the vehicle to wait for Elizabeth outside. She didn’t take too long to appear, opening the door and stepping out distractedly, although she immediately caught your attention.

Elizabeth was wearing a simple dark green shirt that clung to her skin perfectly and a black tiered skirt that went down to her ankles. Around her waist, a black belt complemented the look along with the high heels that you weren’t surprised to see. Her hair was pretty much the same as you had seen earlier that day, but she clearly put on some effort to do her make-up, topping it all with red lipstick that made your brain shut for a while.

You were all of a sudden feeling undressed, though you couldn’t imagine having anything in your wardrobe that would get even close to that.

“Wow,” you breathed out once she spotted you and started walking towards you. “You look… gorgeous.

“Oh, thank you.” You noticed a blush rising from her neck to her cheeks and how she raised a hand to put her hair behind her ear and you just smiled at the cute scene.

Holy crap, you didn’t even know someone could be so beautiful.

Noticing you were staring at her again, you shook your head and pointed to the car waiting for you two. “Right, so, we should, uh, go.”

The drive to the restaurant took a while and you tried to keep the conversation light because the driver could hear you two talking and it would do no good. Elizabeth kept her replies short, but she shot back you a few questions - mostly about your career and how you got into acting. She admitted not knowing much about you before they called her to be the protagonist of the current movie you were working on, but you didn’t mind about that. She seemed interested enough to learn now and that’s all that mattered. Things still felt a bit awkward, but you were going to blame that on the fact that you had to watch your words since you weren’t alone.

“I hope you don’t mind the place,” you told her after stepping out of the car. The bistro behind you was even smaller than you initially thought and it looked mostly empty, which made you start rethinking your decision to take Elizabeth there. “But I was told they have an amazing menu.”

“It looks nice,” Elizabeth replied with a small smile.

You motioned for her to walk first but, before she could open the door of the restaurant, you remembered what you said before and took large steps to beat her to it - which would certainly look ridiculous to someone looking from outside, but there wasn’t much you could do. You opened the door for her and waved your hand dramatically to indicate the way to the other woman. Elizabeth arched one eyebrow before chuckling softly and walking inside the bistro. She paused to wait for you to do the same and you were blessed with a smile when you looked at her again.

Before you could say anything, though, someone approached you to take you both to your table. After you were sitting, you allowed yourself a moment to just look around the bistro, noticing the small details and the cozy environment while Elizabeth looked over the wine charter to pick something. It was a nice place indeed, especially where you were sitting by one of the corners since you asked for privacy, and you almost wished you had tipped the driver better for that only.

“I wanted to apologize,” you said after you placed your order minutes later. Elizabeth looked at you in confusion, so you jumped to explain. “I feel like I might have made you uncomfortable with my rambling earlier. This isn’t a date and I’m sorry if I made it sound like it was. I tend to make jokes when I’m nervous, but they don’t always come out…” you nodded while trying to think about the right way to phrase it, “as I wish they did.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, don’t worry,” Elizabeth told you calmly. “I understood where you were trying to get and what you were trying to say. Like I said, I don’t think this is a horrible idea. It can actually help us out.”

“Yes, that’s another thing I want to apologize for.” You scratched the back of your neck and grimaced. “I kind of ruined the shooting today.”

“You weren’t the only one there, you know?” She offered with a shrug. “Like I said, getting to know each other will help us out. Besides, we’re going to work together for two months, so I guess this is a good start.”

“Even if I put my foot in my mouth?” You wondered, although now you were feeling relaxed enough to feel all your anxiety leave your body at once. It was like you could finally be yourself without the constant fear of doing or saying something wrong.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” Elizabeth joked and you both shared a laugh at that.

Things after that went pretty well.

The wine got there before the food and you both drank while talking about work at first. It was an easy topic, sharing fun stories and anecdotes that made the other laugh, but it soon wandered away from it. You both started talking about family, friends, hobbies, dreams, plans for the future and, before you realized it, you were animatedly chatting, laughing and gesticulating as if you had never once felt nervous around Elizabeth before.

She had a cute laugh that made you want to keep saying silly things to hear it again, and an easy smile that made your heart skip a beat, and green eyes that made you never want to look away, and her voice was so smooth that you wished you could hear her for hours and hours. She was funny, but she was also smart. She talked with passion about her works, about gardening, about her family, about the books she liked to read, and about everything she loved.

Halfway through dinner, you realized you wished it was a date.

It wasn’t surprising because you knew yourself enough to know it might end up happening - Elizabeth was, after all, a very beautiful and interesting woman - but that didn’t mean it made things easier. You were there to forge a friendship with her so you could work together, not to fancy her somehow. Elizabeth was also way out of your league, you couldn’t even bring yourself to dream about anything else happening.

The conversation was happening so smoothly that neither of you realized the restaurant was about to close until one of the waitresses politely told you she would have to collect the plates, but that you could finish off the wine bottle before leaving. That was the second bottle you shared and you were feeling just too happy already, so you declined to drink the rest of it. You were sure you weren’t drunk from the alcohol but from the great time you were having, but it was better safe than sorry. Elizabeth ended up saying she wouldn’t drink it either and you decided to call it a night to allow the employees to go home instead of having to work in a mostly empty restaurant.

You called for a cab once you were outside, thankfully managing to make a car stop in front of you pretty fast, and then you opened up the back door for Elizabeth to enter. You slid behind her, telling her address to the driver, and then you kept talking silently until the car parked in front of her building. You got out first and reached out with one hand to help Elizabeth get out as well before walking her to the door.

“I had a great time,” Elizabeth said as she turned around to face you.

“So did I,” you smiled. “I don’t think I laughed this hard in a long time.”

Her giggle reached your ears, which brought you such a gleeful feeling that you just knew was not a good sign. “Me neither,” she admitted.

When you tell that story years down the road, you would blame the way Elizabeth smiled at you and the way the light made her shine like something from another world for what you said next - though you knew it was just your large mouth speaking before your brain could process the words again. “So, if I wanted to take you out on a date date, would I stand any chance?”

Elizabeth looked at you for a long time before finally replying. “Well, you certainly left a good impression tonight.” She hesitated before talking again. “I would say it made me wish it was a real date. Just a little bit,” she added with a hint of humor, holding her index finger and her thumb just a few inches apart from each other.

You laughed - mostly out of relief - and nodded. “Do you think, well, do you think you have free time later this week? I would love to take you out again.”

“I think we can make that work,” was her answer and, honestly, that’s all you needed to be sure you made the right choice that day.

The director barely recognized you two working together on the screen the next day, so much so that he pulled you both to the side to congratulate you on your performance. You said it was all Elizabeth, but she only rolled her eyes at you and hit your hibs with her elbow before you both shared a laugh. You had your first official date that same Friday at the same bistro, albeit you ordered different dishes this time.

You were officially dating a month later and, by the time you wrapped the movie, there was already some gossip going around about you two. Both Elizabeth and you decided to ignore it and not address it for a while since they were harmless gossip - not to mention that it did wonderful things to the movie’s advertising.

A year later, though, you walked holding hands at the movie premier and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were celebrating your first year together promoting the movie that made you meet the love of your life.

[laracrofted]

downright iconic

synopsis: after handsome gambler’s hometown show, you follow lead guitarist rhett abbott on his smoke break.

pairing: rockstar!rhett abbott x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, ageless blogs that interact will be blocked, swearing, explicit smut (semi-public oral, masturbation, spitting, praise, degradation (slut is used a lot, so is groupie), brief hair pulling, dirty talk, role play, like... rhett is kind of mean but it's been negotiated off-screen, i swear), and smoking (wc: 4K)

note: so... i'd like to blame @lewmagoo for enabling me and my guitarist rhett agenda, but in the end, i can only blame myself for this one. please read the warnings!

listen to gibson girl by ethel cain before/after/during for the full experience, i.e. a sexy guitar solo and general vibes.

so many people interacted with the original post so i'm only tagging people who asked: @theharddeck @sometimesanalice @withahappyrefrain @blitchen @becks-things @ryebecca @perpetuelledaydreaming @rhettabbotts @starlightmoon2020 @wkndwlff @broketraveler87 @thedroneranger @high-speed-r @sebsxphia @cherrycola27 @uhhhhhhhhwat @roosterbruiser @pillow-titties @whoeverineedtobe @bobfloydsbabe @petcr3

You’re watching him the whole show. How could you not? 

Handsome Gambler broke out on the basically nonexistent Wabang music scene a few years back and quickly became something of a local marvel.

A hidden gem in the realest sense.

Forged in the blistering sun that beat down on the cattle ranches and dude ranches of Wyoming and Montana all summer long where half of five-person Handsome Gambler still worked in the slow season... a real rock band.

After a year or so, larger opportunities arose in out-of-town bars, and soon enough, Handsome Gambler were selling out dives up and down the Rockies.

They'd gotten enough local buzz for the Casper Star-Tribune to cover the release of the debut album last summer, both in print and online, calling them an electric revival of the musician who works with their hands. Blue collar rockstars.

And in the deep red shadows of the stage, no other description could do Rhett Abbott justice. He looks so ruggedly handsome, like a goddamn rockstar.

Loose strands of dark hair fall in his face, in his eyes as Rhett bends over a dark red Gibson – a beautiful electric guitar, saved up and paid for with rodeo earnings.

A guitar pick is between his lips, narrow and pursed in concentration. He reaches up and plucks it from his mouth, swiping his tongue across his chapped bottom lip, preparing for the upcoming guitar solo.

Tonight is their last show in a nine week tour, and for all intents and purposes since most of Handsome Gambler is from Wabang, their hometown show.

It's a packed house, if much smaller than their usual venues these days.

You’d seen them at Million Dollar Cowboy bar down in Jackson in a 400 person crowd right around when Handsome Gambler put out their debut album, which had really gained them all the attention.

A sleek concept album. Spinning a shadowy narrow of forgotten love and wasted youth and western nights, humming cicadas and wildfire smoke on the mountains and rich earth stained black with rain and death and in the aftermath, a dusting of wildflowers that sprouted anyway – in and over a dozen songs, woven with seductive guitar solos and haunting vocals, morose and longing.

Like a ghost, come down from the mountains.

You'd bought the album on the release date and listened on the floor of your old apartment, back against the scratchy carpet, hands folded at your bellybutton, eyes closed.

On your first listen, you'd hit with repeat without hesitation; on your second, you'd cried.

It was brilliant, meant to be heard live in a hazy dive, dense with bodies and liquor and smoke, like this one.

His solo comes, and Rhett slides down on his knees in the center of the stage; faded, once dark denim stretched taut around his muscular thighs. 

He sits back on his haunches, gaze slanted, watching the guitar and nothing else. Gorgeous hands slide reverently up and down the neck of the instrument, veins visible, muscles straining in his strong arms, in his beautiful neck. 

Head falling back, Rhett closes his eyes, caught in the music and carried downriver.

Seeing him like this reminds you of another piece in the Tribune last summer.

A freelance music writer had spent an afternoon with him before a show for an in-depth profile on the origins of the band, on the music, on Rhett as the North Star the rest of Handsome Gambler often described him as:

"Handsome Gambler is Not Afraid to Lose."

WABANG, Wyo. – It’s an unseasonably warm June in Wabang, dry enough to brown the fields and make the local ranchers worried about wildfire, but in a secluded diner on the edge of town, former competitive bull rider and now, lead guitarist Rhett Abbott looks like a man who isn’t afraid of a little risk. 

The diner was his choice, a run down place with enough charm in the form of checkered floors and old autographed photos in chipped wood frames to make it feel retro instead and according to him, the best pancakes in the whole damn state. 

And – with a laugh – some of the worst coffee. 

Over good pancakes, chocolate chip with homemade whipped cream, and bad coffee, I ask him about Handsome Gambler’s influences. 

He co-wrote their entire debut album and came up with the instrumental interlude in the middle, which serves as the musical crux of the album.

A blend of slow and sorrowful guitar and bass and nature ambience, recorded on Abbott's phone on a late April night after a bad rain storm, which dares to go on for an ambitious four and a half minutes. 

At my question, Abbott kind of smiles – half on, half off, an expression I notice often over our breakfast interview – and from memory, rattles off names like Grateful Dead, Springsteen in the "Born in the U.S.A." years ("I’m On Fire" is mentioned more than once and with great admiration), Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Fire on the Mountain" (Abbott is specific here, from The Marshall Tucker Band's 1976 album, "Searchin' for a Rainbow," not the Grateful Dead song), and more.

Household names. Ambitious names. One could almost roll their eyes if Abbott didn’t sound so sincere.

"I've always loved music. We didn't have a whole lot of live music around, not like in the big cities, but as a kid, Ma used to bring me to some of the cover band nights at this bar in town. S'closed down now, but I heard my first Led Zeppelin song there. Some drunk guy singing 'Going to California' in the wrong key for eight fucking minutes."

"She got me an old CD player for my room the next Christmas, and I'd put on Zeppelin IV and crank it all the way up. She'd come in screaming at me to turn it down, probably secretly regretted ever buying it for me."

Curious, I ask if Abbott remembers the name of the bar.

He grins, a full grin. "Handsome Gambler."

You love that profile, reread it often. His answers are so genuine, so sincere.

Every word, answer, description screams that Rhett Abbott is a man who loves music, who absolutely worships it with every bone in his body.

You can see it clear as day right now.

He plays with such ardent devotion, and caught in his thrall, you're short of breath, hand pressed across your collarbone, over your aching heart.

Applause breaks out at the end of the song, and Rhett's blue gaze blazes over the crowd and in a startling rush, lands right on you.

Your breath catches.

He has an intense stare, all scrunched brows and clenched jaw, covered in stubble, and middle-of-a-flame blue eyes, burning and bright.

He holds your gaze, drinking in the awe, the undisguised adoration in your expression.

Another starstruck fan in the crowd.

You wonder if Rhett can sense the want that warms your lower abdomen, descending from the moment Rhett stepped on the stage, a since-cast-aside black Stetson pulled low over his smoldering gaze, guitar slung carelessly over his good shoulder, and his arms – his bulging arms.

He must.

Because in a blink and miss it moment, Rhett winks at you. 

One of the girls at the next table over lets out a piercing squeal, bragging to her friends that the sexy cowboy with the guitar winked at her.

But no, Rhett had winked at you, rockstar Rhett Abbott.

You look down, sipping from the rim of your rocks glass, letting the whiskey sour ground the explosion of butterflies in your stomach.

A kind of giddiness sparks in your chest, mixed with something darker and headier. Something like anticipation.

One look at Rhett reveals a smirk, kicking up the corner of his mouth, as Handsome Gambler kicks off the next song – the last song of the night.

You drain the contents of the glass. It burns the whole way down, a struck match, a good burn.

"Need a light, darlin'?" 

Rhett is leaning against the brick, watching you search around your purse for an excuse to be in the alley right now, in the alley with him. 

You used to carry around an old pack of cigarettes from your college days – a built in excuse to get out of an awkward social situation, stepping outside for a smoke.

Are you missing them in the darkness, or did you leave them at home?

A sidelong glance at him. You nod.

He offers you a lighter – a gleaming brass, not some garbage from the gas station – and when your arms remain loose at your sides, not moving to grab it from him, his brow quirks in question.

Heat rises in your cheeks. “Oh, I don't have a – Can I get one actually? Must’ve left my pack at home.” 

You stumble over your words and fuck, Rhett must know now.

You'd seen him slip out of the side Emergency Exit door and followed him out here, made brave with whiskey sours and adrenaline.

A door that is still cracked open, enough for a crackle of music and a faint haze of red light to seep out into the cool night and barely illuminate your faces.

The expression on his is hard to read.

An open pack of Marlboro Reds – a little smushed from being roughly pulled from and shoved back into his back pocket over and over – is held out to you, and Rhett lets you pluck one from the middle.

Sets one in between his lips. 

And with a crooked finger, Rhett gestures for you to come close, closer, until you’re close enough to see the beads of sweat on his skin, damp and flushed from the show.

You suck in a breath, and Rhett smoothly lights both of your cigarettes with a deft click. A quick flash of orange flame. You barely even notice, preoccupied with the press of his mouth around the cigarette, so close to your own. 

He straightens, pulling back but only enough to not blow the smoke right in your face. He inhales and blows it out of the side of his mouth, watching you. 

You hold in a cough, wincing at the acrid taste, and mimic him.

Breathe in and out and in again.

His gaze drops down, caught in the rise and fall and rise of your chest.

He squints, eyes crinkling in the corners, and with vague disappointment, you realize Rhett is checking out your shirt and not your cleavage.

Armed with a pair of eyebrow scissors and a dream, you'd cropped and cut and ripped until an enticing sliver of stomach and a hint of cleavage would be visible, almost but not quite showing the red lace of your bra. Just in case.

A crooked smirk dances on his lips, amused, as Rhett reads the name across the black fabric.

“A Floyd fan, huh? Y’got a thing for drummers, darlin’?” 

You manage not to squirm but only just.

You like Bob Floyd. He’s a great dummer, real sweet. 

(“It’s Bob, like Dylan,” Bob mumbled against the microphone earlier, during his introduction, looking very Born in the U.S.A. Springsteen in a plain white shirt and a camo baseball hat. At the sound of his voice, a drunk girl in the audience shrieked I love you, Bob, and Bob went beet red. “I , uh – Thank you. We love you too, Wabang.”)

You shrug in lieu of an answer, and Rhett's smirk grows a little wider, a little mean. 

"Why're you out here with me then, pretendin' to want a smoke?" 

You look him up and down, as if considering.

“Well, I really hoped Floyd might be around, but…” 

An obvious lie, but Rhett was a bull rider before. Some part of him must still possess that combative edge, that competitive streak.

You'd like to see him all riled up.

His gaze darkens, pupils blown.

A warning.

A snorting and kicking bull who's spent all night in a chute.

You bite back a smirk.

His voice is so low, so rough, scraping across your burning skin like day old stubble.

“S’that right? Are you a groupie or something? Some slut who’d let any of us bend you over and use you? Who’d suck any of our cocks?”

He is so very close you right now, crowding in.

“Maybe…”

Is that really your voice? All smooth and alluring?

Sucking on the end of the cigarette, you hollow your cheeks out with your inhale and relish in the way Rhett watches you.

You ash the cigarette, watching the red embers fall and fade.

“I mean, I do really love your music.” 

His next words come out in a harsh exhale.

“Take off your panties.” 

You blink at him, a little surprised, and Rhett cocks his head.

Like I dare you. 

Also like I don’t believe you. 

You slide them down your legs and place them in his open palm, fingers brushing against his. They are red lace and damp, obviously so. 

They had been ever since Rhett had flicked his guitar pick at you during the last song and before, even. 

He chuckles and shoves them in his back pocket.

“You liar. I recognize you. Saw you in there, watching me the whole goddamn show. You came out here lookin’ for me, didn’t you?” 

Not Floyd is implied. 

You nod, mouth dry, unable to keep up the lie. 

“And what were you hopin’ would happen, darlin’? How good of a groupie are you lookin’ to be?” 

“Anything, Rhett,” you breathe, pretense all but gone, "as good as you want me to be.” 

A wolfish grin cuts across his face. Good answer.

He catches your chin between his fingers, pressing hard enough to bruise. Pulls your cigarette from your parted lips and crushes it under his black cowboy boot. 

"It's your lucky day, darlin’. Get on your knees." 

You drop your purse. Almost bruise your knees on the asphalt, and for a brief second, Rhett's eyes go wide with something like concern.

You've already moved on, pushing aside the groan of your knees, not bothered.

You undo his massive belt buckle – gleaming, like the lighter, an intricate design – and pull down his zipper in one quick move, eager. You look up at him, glossed lips already parted in mindless anticipation, and Rhett looks back with nothing but amused desire, that mean smirk.

“What? You lookin’ for an invitation or somethin’?” he asks, voice full of gravel. He is still smoking the cigarette, red embers reflected in his dark and shining eyes. “You wanted some cock so goddamn bad. Take it out.” 

You swallow hard and shove his boxers down until Rhett’s cock springs free, hard and dripping and beautiful.

A soft, longing breath escapes you, and Rhett smirks down at you.

You should probably work him up some, work him over with your hands until Rhett is desperate for you to put your mouth on him, but…

You put your mouth on him, desperate for the weight of him on your tongue. 

You go deeper and choke, moisture streaming from your eyes and down your cheeks. 

You’re a little out of practice. It's been a while, a little over two months.

You want him deeper, so much deeper, but… 

Too much, too fast. 

You have to pull back, gasping for breath, and Rhett makes a disappointed tsk sound. Blows out another puff of smoke.

“You can do better than that, right, darlin’? Because I bet I could go back in there and find some other slut who’d swallow my come in a fuckin’ heartbeat.” 

So damn degrading. You're on fire, smearing across your inner thighs without your underwear.

“I can. Let me do it again. I promise I can.”  

You sound downright pathetic. Can't even be bothered to care.

His smirk widens, and Rhett flicks the cigarette to the side.

"Gimme your hand," he urges in a low voice.

Fingers banded around your wrist, Rhett is not overly rough, careful not to yank and strain your shoulder, but he's not gentle either.

He presses down hard on the flesh between your thumb and pointer finger until your clenched fist opens for him.

His spit slaps against the center of your palm.

And is it your imagination that Rhett brushes a kiss across your pulse? 

He guides your hand back down on him – around him – and works your hand around the base of his cock in hard and unforgiving strokes, working the length of him too big for you to reach with your mouth right now.

Determined, you lick at him, running your tongue along the slit of his cock, the vein that runs down the side, and sink your mouth around him until your lips brush against his clenching fingers.

Swallow around him. 

Above you, Rhett shudders, dropping his head back against the brick, spasming on your tongue and hitting the back of your warm throat with an involuntarily jerk that makes you gag.

A low murmur of shit, sorry, darlin’ rushes from his mouth before Rhett seems to remember himself. 

No longer apologetic, Rhett catches your hair in his free hand, giving a good, solid pull, and continues to work your hand around him with the other. His fingers grow slick with your spit, dribbling from the sides of your mouth, wetting the coarse hair on his knuckles.

He's muttering under his breath, curses and praises and words too low for you to make out over the wet sound of him.

“Fuck. So good, darlin'. So goddamn good."

A moan vibrates around him, and Rhett curses again, louder.

“S’that good, that what you needed? You needed my cock in your mouth? Anyone could walk out here. Anyone could come out here and see you on your knees, swallowing me whole like a desperate little slut.”

You whimper in answer, like yes, like please, like more, I desperately need you to say more, and a hand scrapes across your cheek, calloused and warm and rough, a slow stroke.

“But I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Good little groupie like you.” 

Damp arousal drips down your leg, and you can't handle it anymore, you need, you need, you – 

He doesn't miss a beat, not Rhett.

He sees you move, sees your hand pull at the denim, desperate for friction, for anything. A strained groan slides down your spine.

"Jesus Christ... How wet're you from suckin' my cock? Show me."

This seems like an impossible demand in this situation – you on your knees with your mouth full of him – but you've always been creative.

You gather your arousal, gasping at your own wetness, somehow surprised even in all this, and hold your hand out for him in the light.

Red light shines across your glistening fingers.

"God..." Rhett seems almost amazed. "Haven't even touched you, darlin'. You're so wet for me."

Awe burns away, leaving something more carnal in the ashes.

His eyes are half-lidded and nearly black, a summer storm on the indigo horizon.

"Touch yourself for me," Rhett rasps out, an order, a need.

And spits on your glistening fingers.

It's so wet and depraved and so fucking good, fingers dripping with his saliva and your own arousal, spreading his saliva across your cunt, rolling over your slick and swollen clit, clenching around nothing.

Every sweet sensation makes you gasp around his cock, growing more and more desperate, as Rhett pushes in and out of your mouth, spilling sweet and filthy words like a recitation.

"So fucking wet for me. So goddamn good."

"Come for me and my cock. Gonna come on your hand and swallow my cum, like a good little slut."

You imagine Rhett is the one touching you right now.

He is pinching at your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with thick and unrelenting fingers. He is parting you with knuckles covered in wet hair and stretching you out for him. He is giving you even a mere fraction of the rapt and devoted attention Rhett displayed earlier on stage, single-minded and focused on your pleasure.

And come with a muffled whine, eyes rolling back in your head.

Only seconds later, Rhett spurts down your throat with a near animalistic grunt, mouth falling open in pleasure. You swallow every drop.

Awash in the red glow of the aftermath, Rhett studies you with an unreadable expression again. You are standing again now, smoothing down your clothes and brushing the gravel and dirt from your knees.

You're both breathing hard.

He crooks a finger. "C'mere."

You go without hesitation, and Rhett grabs your wrist again, slower and gentler now, and pulls your fingers into his mouth, sucking the arousal from your skin.

He lets out a reverent groan, eyes filled with amazement and wide blue awe, flooding back in like a dam that's been cracked down the middle.

A smile pulls at your mouth, and Rhett crushes you against him. You loop your arms around his strong neck, and Rhett buries his face in the hinge of your shoulder with a content sigh. 

"Missed you s'damn much, darlin'."

He murmurs the words against your forehead, smearing a kiss across your brow, stubble a pleasant and familiar prickle against your damp skin.

You melt against him, nudging your nose under his jaw and inhaling his scent, sweat and tobacco and mountain air and him. "Don't be gone for s'damn long then next time, rockstar."

"Come w'me next time."

He sounds almost drunk, mumbling and slurring against your bare skin, drunk on your proximity after nine long weeks apart from each other.

"Can't. Who else is supposed to write profiles on local up-and-coming bands? You should see the other writer that the Tribune hired. He's like... the med-iest of all the -ocres.” 

His laugh is a warm puff of breath against your neck, which after nothing but phone and video calls is almost enough to make you sniffle against his shoulder.

You've missed him so damn much.

"Ah, right. It'd be selfish of me to deprive the whole damn state of your brilliance." He pulls back and looks you right in the eye, a gentle nudge under your chin. "Was that... You're okay, right?"

You smile wide. "I'm perfect."

"Good." He grins, a full grin that Rhett had flashed you for the first time over good pancakes and bad coffee months ago. "Because goddamn, you're so incredible. That was somethin' else, darlin'."

You'd been the one to come up with the idea, a perfect welcome home for him at the end of the nine week tour, a call back to the confession you'd made around a month of dating.

You know all I wanted to do when I saw you play for the first time was follow you on your smoke break and suck your cock, but I had to be a professional...

"We can pretend to be strangers. You can see me across a crowded room, and I can follow you out on your smoke break and..."

"And what?"

"That'd be up to you, wouldn't it, rockstar? I'd be like... your groupie or something."

You let the idea sink in, smiling and on the other end of the phone, Rhett swore under his breath.

You grin at him now.

"You were pretty incredible yourself, but right now, I do kind of want my boyfriend to kiss me."

His eyes are warm, light. "Yeah? D'you miss him that much?"

"So very much."

He cups the nape of your neck and leans in for a kiss, a firm and aching and devouring and loving kiss.

You kiss and kiss until Bob Floyd comes out to grab him for the encore.

"You're wanted, rockstar."

He gives you a wide grin and plants a kiss on the center of your wrist, right on your racing pulse.

"See you after the show, m'love."

You are sipping a water at the bar when Rhett comes back out on stage, all bright eyes and mussed hair and a bare scrap of red lace hanging out of his back pocket.

Impossible to miss.

You choke on your water, and Rhett winks.

note: so... i saw this photo of lewis said, yeah, guitarist rhett on his knees for a solo, and all of the sudden, i was spending hours reading musician profiles and assembling a list of handsome gambler-ish songs. life moves pretty fast 🤠

i could probably be persuaded to write more about them if anyone is interested.

[queen-breha-organa]

I wanted to briefly come back online and discuss the WGA and, in turn, the current writer's strike.

I know my opinion matters very little, and I don’t consider myself an expert or a valuable voice in this matter. However, since I talk about Star Wars a lot, I wanted to discuss the strike because these things go hand in hand. I think it’s unfair to ignore the real-world circumstances that shape the media you enjoy. Knowing the context of something is important. And beyond that, this situation has just been on my mind, and I wanted to express my thoughts somewhere. 

Firstly, all workers should be paid living wages. All workers deserve to be treated fairly and compensated fairly. All workers deserve safe, productive, and fair working environments—end of story.

I’ve been seeing a lot of jokes along the lines of “I didn’t even know media had writers these days,” and while I understand the joke and the potential humor in it, I feel like it’s important to realize that this is entirely why the WGA is striking in the first place.

The writer’s rooms are shrinking. Writers are being overworked. Writers are being underpaid. Writers are being dismissed and undercut. These factors lead to poorly written and poorly managed shows because the individuals who write the bones of the shows are exhausted and burdened by corporate interference, unreasonable deadlines (especially in animation), unfair wages, and stale corporate agendas.

Additionally, these writers often aren’t given the opportunity to oversee or manage their writing while it’s being filmed. Instead, companies are acting as if the writing process ends before the filming process so that they can shorten the writer's contracts and pay them less. However, in actuality, the writing process is often most valuable during the filming process. 

Some things work on paper but don’t work on the day. Maybe the joke doesn’t land, or an actor can’t deliver the line as intended. Writers are needed on set to rework and revise these lines, so the process can run smoother without sacrificing story and believability. Now some actors are incredible at improvising and can make these things work. However, overall, without writers on set, you usually end up with awkward/stiff dialogue or scenes that make no sense. Writing doesn’t stop in the writers' room.

Another massive force driving this strike is the evolution of streaming services. 

With “traditional” tv reruns, the network airing the media has to purchase the viewing rights of the episode or the show. This money is then extended to the people who worked on the show in the form of residuals. It makes sense. Something you worked on makes money, so in turn, you get money. 

However, streaming services have broken this mold by allowing consumers to watch whatever media whenever they want. Streaming services claim that it is no longer possible to pay residuals for these shows since they don’t know how often or when the shows are being watched. This is a lie.

Companies will brag privately in shareholder's meetings and publicly in articles about streaming shows that have done well. We’ll read headlines like “Stranger Things’ Was Most-Streamed TV Show in 2022” or “‘Star Wars’ vs. Marvel: Which Disney+ Shows Are Most-Viewed.” These articles and the data within them prove it is possible to know how frequently shows/movies are being watched on streaming services. Still, companies are only willing to shell out this information for bragging rights and not for fair payments.

In 2021, Disney CEO Bob Chapk earned $32 million. In contrast, the WGA website states, “Median weekly writer-producer pay has declined 4% over the last decade. Adjusting for inflation, the decline is 23%.” These writers are merely asking for 3%, while CEOs are given the moon.

This is unacceptable.

If you’re reading this post, if you’re on Tumblr and engaging with fandoms enough to have this post written by me, a Star Wars blog, circulate on your feed, media writing has affected your life. Writers have impacted you and your daily routine and hobbies. 

You should care about this strike. You should be supporting this strike. 

We all want our favorite shows to come back, we all want to reunite with our favorite characters, and we all want to see their stories, their triumphs, and their struggles. 

But the real people behind these stories and behind these characters are far more important than any fictional narrative. 

These writers have crafted the worlds and stories we love, and by supporting them, we can return the favor and craft a better world for them too.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My Sweetheart: Part 7

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

Series Masterlist

The next time you see Bucky is when he's scheduled to come in. Alongside him is Yelena and Kamala. Alpine happens to be hanging on your shoulder, so when Bucky walks in, Alpine jumps from your shoulder to the front counter.

Bucky chuckles and picks up the white kitten, "Hey, buddy," the kitten meows and nuzzles into Bucky's neck.

"He was being a little fussy earlier today. He pooped all over himself and we had to bathe him. He wasn't having any of it, but we got through it."

Bucky looks at the kitten, "You being a little stubborn, Al?"

"Think you're rubbing off on him," Yelena says with a smirk, patting the white kitten's head.

Bucky rolls his eyes, "Don't think I've rubbed off on him that much yet." He then turns to you and softly smiles, "So, what's on the agenda boss?"

You check your watch, "It's about lunch time so divide and conquer. Take out and feed half. The ones out and eating need their enclosures cleaned. I'll need some help sorting donations we just received."

"I'll help you," Yelena immediately spoke up, which caused Bucky and Kamala to look at her with raised brows. She shrugged, "What? I like being helpful."

"Well okay. Kamala, Bucky, you guys know where the food and cleaning supplies are, right?"

"We got it, Captain!" she salutes to you and nudges Bucky to follow.

You politely smile at him and point at the kitten on his shoulder, "I assume I can trust you with Alpine?"

He shoots you a grin, "Of course!" his smile fades and then he looks concerned. He rubs the back of his neck "but, uh, you good? I'm sorry but you look a little frazzled today."

You can't help but laugh a little at his statement and you rub your forehead, "Yeah. Today's already been a long day and I've been here for only three hours."

Bucky steps closer, "Anything I can do to help?"

You give him a soft smile and place a hand on his shoulder, "You being here helps." Realizing how it sounds you immediately retract your hand and clear your throat, "I-I mean, you guys, like, you, Kamala, and Yelena being here helps. Extra hands means more stuff gets done and what not."

He smirks at you, "Right. Got it, but, uh, if there's anything you need, you let me know? Or, uh, Yelena or Kamala. We're always here to help."

You nod and nudge him, "Thanks, Bucky. I appreciate it."

Yelena clears her throat and you two completely forgot she was still there. You and Bucky step away from each other and you turn to Yelena, "Uh, follow me to the back and we can start sorting everything."

The blonde nods and turns to Bucky as you start walking away, "Smooth, Barnes."

He rolls his eyes, "Shut it, Lena." He turns on his heel and goes to join Kamala in the cat room.

___________________

Yelena helps you sort out the donations of food, beds, towels, etc. in the storage room. There's a comfortable silence as you two work. There's occasional grunts and sighs as you lift things onto shelves. You two eventually pause for some water and that's when Yelena decides to ask you, "So I hear you're being haunted."

You snort, "Yeah, I guess you can say that." You sigh and place a bag of dog food onto a shelf. You sit on a bin and explain, "I bought a bracelet from an antique store and turns out, the spirit of Bucky's girlfriend from the forties is still attached to it. In order for her to pass on, I need to help her with her unfinished business. At first, I thought it was just for her to see Bucky one last time, but she switched things up on me," you say with a chuckle and you feel a flick to your ear. You pout, "Quit it, Dot."

Yelena's brows rise, "Do you see her or something?"

You shake your head, "She flicked my ear. And, uh, she kinda goes wherever I go as long as I wear the bracelet," you hold up the vintage jewelry.

Yelena nods, "That's beautiful. I can understand why you wanted to buy it."

"Yeah. Apparently Bucky purchased it and gave it to Dot before he left for the war. After Dot passed, I guess the bracelet got passed around and eventually ended up in the antique store I like going to."

"It's funny how big yet small the world can be. Who'd have thought that a bracelet can bring the Avengers into your life?" Yelena asks with a playful grin.

You laugh, "I for sure didn't expect meeting the Avengers or having a ghost companion when I bought it," you look at the bracelet on your wrist, "but, honestly, I don't regret it. It's made my life a little more interesting and it's brought more help to the shelter," you wink at the blonde Avenger and she snorts.

__________________

As Kamala is wiping down an enclosure, she speaks up, "Is it me or did Y/N look a little-"

"I know. I talked to her," Bucky says as he wipes down another one of the cat's enclosures.

Kamala stops to fully face him with a smile on her face, "You talked to her?"

He rolls his eyes at the young Avenger not stopping his task and wanting to face her, "It was a friendly gesture."

"What did you say?"

He shrugs, "Just that if she ever needs anything to just ask."

"Ask you?" Kamala asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Again, he rolls his eyes, "Ask me, you, Yelena, any of us."

"Riiiight. Right. Got it." She doesn't say anything else after that and Bucky's relieved. He just wants to get his task done. He checks behind him to see if Alpine is still there. The white cat still eating on the floor along with the other few cats.

Two hours later it's around lunch time and you gather them all together in your office.

"So I ordered some pizza for us!"

"NICE!" Kamala cheers and immediately grabs a slice and moans in delight.

Bucky smiles in appreciation, "You didn't have to do this."

You shrug, "I was craving it and I'm sure the Avengers need to take a break and eat too right?"

You put out some foldable chairs out in your office and you settle in one. Bucky sits in the one near you and an invisible force pushes you closer to his side. You and everyone else in the room pause for a moment with wide eyes.

You're not sure what to say or do but then Bucky bursts out into a chuckle and everyone looks at him in surprise.

He shakes his head, "Dot's being mischievous still?"

"You have no idea," you say with a smirk before biting into your pizza.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Hi, This is my first time requesting something and I love your writing!! Can I request a hc of a relaxing day off with Eris

can I say that I feel honoured that you sent your first request to me🥺 here you go❤️

relaxing is normally not really on Eris' agenda -> he is a newly crowned High Lord and has a lot to do, so he can't really allow himself to take a day off

but, some days you just force him to

you know how much he works and that it sometimes can get too much, he needs to rest from time to time, and so, even if you have to drag him away from his desk, you insist on those relaxing days off with him

you woke up the previous night at around 4am and realised your mate had't come to bed yet, so you got up and woke him from where he had fallen asleep on the desk and brought him to bed

and this morning, you would have a lay in

you are awake before him, his head resting on your chest as you gently brush your fingers through his hair

normally a sentry wakes him at 6am, but today you told the sentry that they also should enjoy a relaxing day and the High Lord won't need them

a few strays of sunlight filter in through the curtains when the High Lord stirs awake, his fae nuzzled into your cleavage, he draws in your scent and hums lowly "how late is it?" he asks and you inform him about the time and that he does not need to worry as you will spend your day far away from business, just relaxing and most importantly together

Eris reluctantly agrees, understanding how much he actually needs a day of rest and a day with just his mate

after cuddling and kissing for quite a long time, you get up and collect some things for breakfast in bed, returning to the bedroom humming

Eris is splayed out on the bed, a lazy morning grin on his face, as he sits there in all his naked glory

you enjoy the breakfast, cuddle and kiss some more until you finally decide to rise and get dressed a little after lunch time

you collect some things for a picnic which you decide to have at a lake nearby

with your hands intertwined you walk to the destination, marvelling at the beauty of the autumn court, its sounds and rich colours

it is warm day, only a gentle breeze blowing through the trees and rustling the leaves

you sit down on a blanket and enjoy the things you brought along

you talk about everything and anything, just enjoying time together

and of course you cuddle and kiss some more until the sun slowly starts to set and walk back

but you take a longer route, just walking in solitude and peace for quite a long time

you are freezing a little when you return to the Forest House, and Eris leads you to the bathroom

he runs you both a bath which you quickly slide into

obviously whenever the water starts to cool, Eris will warm it up with his magic

and you will also make some sweet and soft love in the water

later on you find yourself cuddled together in the sheets, sharing some more small kisses before drifting off together

Eris keeps thanking the mother for bringing you into his life, that he has you at his side and he falls asleep with his lips pressed against the top of your head

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Unfinished Sentences

A Ben Mendelsohn fic

Summary: You’re a actor who’s known for your indie work, but when you get a job working for Marvel on Secret Invasion with Ben Mendelsohn as your partner in crime, things may get complicated.  

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6 

You managed to sleep for another hour when you got back to your hotel room, before waking to start the day properly. Your body was aching in all the right places and every time you moved, a memory would flash in front of your eyes.

    You loved every moment of the night before, you could only half understand why you hadn’t given in before then, but the other part of you, the part of you that knew yourself far too well, was telling you all the reasons you could come to regret it.

        You dressed and headed down to the lobby to meet with your assistant for the day, she was already sitting having breakfast with Ben who looked in good spirits considering it was early.

    ‘Morning Y/N.’ She said cheerfully, announcing your presence to Ben who gently pulled the chair next to him out.

    ‘Morning, Sophie,’ you smiled, politely taking the seat Ben offered. ‘Did you sleep okay?’

    ‘Not too bad, thanks.’

    Ben pushed an already full cup of coffee in front of you, smiling to himself. ‘You get back to your room okay after the party?’ He asked, trying to keep it casual.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, fine, it wasn’t that far.’ You nodded, sipping the hot coffee.

    ‘Glad to hear it.’ Ben stood up. ‘I’m going for a smoke; you want your usual?’

    ‘Only if it’s on the way.’ You said, not sure how you were supposed to answer.

    ‘I got you.’ He winked heading out for a smoke.

    ‘He’s so lovely.’ Sophie smiled almost swooning over Ben and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

    ‘Yeah, he’s a bit of sweetheart.’ You agreed. ‘So, what’s on the agenda today?’

    Sophie took you through what the day would entail and at some point, Ben came back with a plate of bacon and eggs for you. He refilled your coffee cup and anyone looking over might have mistaken you for a couple. A big part of you didn’t actually mind.

    It seemed like a fairly straight forward few days, it would be spent with Ben doing interviews and then coming together for some group sessions. You ate your breakfast and Sophie needed to make a few calls before the car came around to pick you up.

    Ben hadn’t said anything since coming back from his smoke, in part you were terrified, but the other part of you was resisting laughing.

    You heard him snigger slightly and it just set you off. The two of you began giggling like teenagers once again, it was the only way you knew you were good, and nothing would be awkward.

    ‘So…’ Ben calmed down a little, taking a mouthful of coffee.

    ‘So.’ You repeated.

    ‘You wanna talk about it?’ He almost whispered. You turned to see his bashful expression, blue eyes flickering over your face, and you wondered if he was replaying the night in his head as well.

    ‘What do you wanna say?’ You asked, testing the waters.

    ‘Well,’ Ben quickly shifted his gaze around the room. ‘I wouldn’t mind expressing my complete and utter amazement that my own personal dream came true.’

    You covered your mouth in an attempt to stifle another laugh.

    ‘No, seriously, I feel fucking fantastic this morning.’ He went further, making it very difficult for you to not attract any attention. You took a breath and managed to compose yourself enough to speak.

    ‘Well, I can’t disagree.’ You admitted, watching Ben’s eyebrows raise suggestively. ‘Am I to understand that we are of the same opinion of keeping this under wraps?’

    ‘I think so.’ Ben nodded, a bit more seriously, taking another sip of coffee. ‘It’s no one’s business and I think unless we decided to make it a thing, there’s no reason to make it public information.’

    ‘Good.’ You nodded, glad you were both in agreement. You took a sip of coffee.

    ‘Of course, if you wanted to make it a regular thing, I would be jumping at every chance-‘ Ben stopped there, you couldn’t take much more of his playful nature, so much so that you were almost choking on your mouthful of coffee.

    ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’ You chuckled.

    Ben’s eyes locked with yours for a moment. ‘Please do.’ He said, sincerely. ‘I had a really good time and I think you probably did as well. It’d be a shame if we just ignored it and I don’t want anything to be awkward, so if you have anything you want to say, I’m all ears.’

    It was the sincerity that scared you. Someone had been this way with you once before and it ended in disaster, you weren’t about to fall into another trap.

    ‘What is that?’ Ben asked and you immediately smiled, changing your expression to anything other than what it was. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

    ‘Yes.’ You smiled. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not ready.’

    ‘That’s fine.’ Ben shook his head as if the last thing he wanted was for you to feel forced into anything. ‘Y/N, it’s fine, you don’t have to tell me anything. But is there anything you’d like me to know?’

    You thought for a moment, glancing out of the window to where a black car was pulling up presumably to take you to the interview venue.

    ‘I suppose one thing that might interest you,’ you started, catching Sophie returning out of the corner of your eye. ‘Your edging game is on point.’ You winked and stood up to greet Sophie, listening to that massive cackle that Ben had when he was really enjoying himself.

    The interviews would be easy enough, it was the same stuff mostly and with Ben’s playfulness, passing the time between it would be enjoyable as well.

    It was thinking on how amazing your relationship really was with Ben, the lack of awkwardness, the playfulness, the way nothing was really off limits, and you knew each other so well, staring at him in his light blue t-shirt underneath his navy jacket, looking so handsome and like a real movie star; you knew you had it bad for this man. The only question remained, could you keep him at enough of a distance to never feel the need to run away?

 END

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 270: I Could Bring You Your…

“H-hi doctor,” came the tentative knock at my door, as I was signing off on a pile of pharmacy pre-authorizations at my desk, “can I come in?”

I looked up and fought to keep my eyes from going wide. It was Cynthia, my longtime worker from the scheduling desk, and she was enormous. She was a quiet girl that generally kept to herself, holed up in a back office where we had some phones, and I don’t think I’d seen her this week. Recently she, like so many of the women who worked at my office, had been putting on pounds, inches everywhere. “S-sure hi,” I managed, after my pause, and set to quickly gathering myself, “What’s up?”

"c-can I talk to you?” she posited, stepping through the entry and - notably - closing the door behind herself. 

My eyes had taken the moment to shoot down her figure, while she was turned away. She’d been, if I remember, a frumpy young woman of indeterminate hair color that dressed like a schoolteacher twice her age and smelled of cough drops. Recent weeks had, though, seen a sea-change in “Cici”, as some of the girls called her, and she now stood well over six-feet tall and had somehow dropped pounds from her middle and put them everywhere else. What was in the water around this place? She’d also obviously learned how to dress to show off a figure that was, now, shockingly jaw-dropping. This was Cynthia?!? I marveled incredulously as she turned back again, revealing an ample bosom proudly displayed in a tight, white, see-through tank under which a workhorse of a bra managed to contain her prodigious assets. She was carrying a coffee mug. 

“S-sure,” I stammered, wincing as I saw the little hint of an electrified smile as she caught my eyes shooting up from her chest, noticed me inappropriately ogling her surprising curves, “of course.” Was this about some of the things Randi had told me? That Cynthia’s work had been suffering recently? She’d been, as far as I knew, a diligent worker all through the years she’d worked with us. I’d hired her right out of her training, and never heard of a problem with her. But apparently she’d been making mistakes, and I’d seen it in my daily schedule recently: patients misbooked, whole mornings left empty, or slots double- and triple-full. Maybe this is what she wanted to discuss?

I had a feeling that wasn’t it. 

Stepping into the room one tentative pace, Cynthia bit her lower lip as her eyes fixed on me, then shot away. “Melissa’s n-not here today?” she asked, a bit nervously. She was wearing what looked like an old pair of men’s running shoes and black jeans that looked ready to be burst apart by her thick hips and big thighs.

“N-no, she has the day off,” I answered, remembering the strange flurry of texts and FaceTime recordings I’d gotten from Melissa earlier, “she’s, um, not feeling well.”

“Oh,” she remarked, a new glitter of what looked like confidence emboldening her mien as she stepped in closer, right up to my desk. Her eyes were fixed on me as she peered down to where I sat, and her hands worried with the white mug she still held. “Does that make you lonely?”

That took me aback. 

”Wh-what do you mean?” I stammered, looking up at her. She’d been, in the past, a quiet, mousy thing known for her nervous, awkward ways. But today her eyes were locked on mine, not breaking contact, watching my face as I struggled yet again not to glance down at her newly-voluptuous chest. 

“I hear you went on a date,” she asked strangely, “Do you miss her?”

I looked away. “W-well,” I began, suddenly struggling with - yes - my own emotions and the feelings I’d developed for Melissa, none of which I could admit to, here, “sh-she’s very important around the office, managing the staff, k-keeping things, uh, running smoothly…”

Cynthia was nodding, listening, intent on my every word but also somehow distracted. She had an agenda, I could see it in her eyes. 

“…b-but, y’know, we’ll manage, we’ll get by,” I continued, still unsettled with the odd turn this conversation was taking, “she’s allowed to have some days aw-“

“Well, I’m here today,” Cynthia suddenly interjected, her voice having grown a new, deeper firmness, an unspoken anger brought about by years of being ignored, “I’ve been here every day. For years.”

“y-y-yes you have,” I stuttered, getting suddenly nervous. There was a volume to her voice that I hadn’t expected, and it made me shrink a bit into my seat, sitting there below her. Her eyes were still fixed on me, and seemed to pulse with a barely-bridled energy. I’d had conversations with disgruntled employees before, and knew enough not to escalate matters. Plus, as small as I’d gotten, and as big as she was here this morning, Cici sorta scared me. “I really appreciate all your hard work through the years, Cynthia,” I finally managed. 

“You do??” she replied, mouth dropping open, eyes still fixed on my face. Her breath came deep, swelled her big pale bosom up into her neckline. “Say that again…”

“Say…what again?”

“My name…” she clarified, “Say it again…”

“‘C-Cynthia’?” okay what the hell was happening?

“Yes…” she groaned, like she was relishing a private celebration, and then spoke, “You th-think I’m a good worker..?”

“y-yes of course,” I responded, shivering a little under the unconstrained attention of this huge, awkward young woman who was maybe having a weird day. I knew I needed to get her out of here, and definitely not look at her tits. “So…wh-what is it you wanted…Cynthia?” I just said her name again for her, didn’t I? I thought, as I watched her shiver.

“Uhmmmm….” Cici was, once more, nervous, her demeanor ungainly as she wrestled with something hard for her. She fidgeted with the mug - my mug, I’d noticed - in her hands, and her gaze dropped to my desk. “I was, well, uh hoping…” she began, in her own clumsy way, “kinda thinking that I could maybe have a… promotion.”

“A promotion?” I countered, a bit surprised by a boldness - as ungainly as it was - that I wouldn’t have expected from Cynthia. Did she want Randi’s job? To manage the scheduling desk? That wouldn’t be an unreasonable request, with her greater experience. But what to do with R-

“I could be your personal assistant,” Cici immediately offered, eyes brightening again, expectant, “I…I know you’re someone who needs some…extra attention, now, from time to time. At l-least, that’s, uh…what I hear. And, um…I could do that.” Her voice was quickening, as her energy started to boil, quickly being stirred to a fever, “All I’d do all day is take care of you, you’d have me all to yourself. I could h-help with…paperwork. I could keep everything…organized. And I could bring you your…your…your coffee."

At that Cynthia placed the mug she’d been holding down on the desk in front of me, her hands still wrapped around it. Her big white breasts, squashed now between her upper arms, volumed out towards me.

That didn’t look like coffee.

“th-that looks like milk…” I stammered, my voice sounding suddenly, fraughtly weak.

“It is…” Cici hushed, her voice husky and just above a whisper, “…it’s my milk.”

“It’s what??” I must have misheard her.

Cynthia’s voice was shaking, whether with nerves or arousal I couldn’t be sure, as she answered me. “I-I h-hear you haven’t been drinking coffee anymore,” she began, “th-that she’s switched you to milk. My breasts are…are…y’know...” As her words trailed off, she swelled up in her top with a breath inflating her lungs. I couldn’t help it, my eyes flitted down to them for a moment, saw the faint network of blue veins which pulsed below the surface of overstretched skin. “So I thought you’d like to try-“

At that, Cici picked up the mug again - which I now eyed with confounded disbelief - and leaned in closer towards me, raising it towards my lips.

“...human milk.” 

“C-Cynthia!!” I exclaimed, suddenly pitching myself back in my oversized desk chair and throwing my hands up in defense, “Wh-what?!? N-no..!!” 

Oh my god!

”Wh-what?” she faltered, sounding suddenly perplexed, “It’s…it’s nice and warm, still…”

”Cynthia no that’s…that’s…!-!-!” I declared, flummoxed for the right words, eyes wide in shock, glued in fright to the white mug she was still pushing towards me. She was trying to feed me her breastmilk!!

“That’s what?” she asked, still apparently confused, starting to sound hurt, “Lots of boys like it, these days, drinking girls' milk…”

“Cynthina no…!” I insisted, shaking my head back and forth. This girl is crazy!

“...and I heard you had a mommy-thing, a boobie-thing,” she continued, pressing on. My chair could only back up so far; I’d hit the wall behind me. But…she couldn’t quite reach me. “I can be your mommy,” she said, “ I can be your boobies.”

At that, she lifted a knee up onto my desk.

”Cynthia oh my god I think you need to leave!”

=================================

more crap like this at my Patreon

[violetthekiller]

But the thing is that Tom can't have a Spidey contract with Marvel/Disney until he gets a contract with Sony. And then Sony lends him to Disney/Marvel for the team-up movies. So the negotiations are a lot more complicated for Tom than for any other Marvel actor. What works in Tom's favor is that most of the new Marvel movies have not done that well, so they have an incentive to keep Tom's popular Spidey in the roster. Sony has a track record of being idiots in how they decided to reboot Spidey when they cancelled Raimi's SM4 and brought Andrew because they didn't want to pay what Tobey and Raimi demanded after the success of their trilogy. SM4 was already storyboarded with John Malkovich as the villain (Vulture) when it was scrapped by Sony

Whole lot of words there for my brain at 10pm sorry. I’ll be on the SM4 agenda until the day I die 😌 (and so is Amy Pascal)

[captainsophiestark]

Tourist

Peggy Carter x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Agent Carter Bingo 2022! @agentcarterbingo​

Fandom: Marvel

Square Filled: Edwin Jarvis

Summary: Y/N Jarvis is none other than Edwin Jarvis' little sister. After a long time without seeing each other face to face, Y/N finally takes a vacation to sunny Los Angeles to visit her brother. She might find more than just familial love waiting for her, though, when her brother plays cupid between her and a certain female SSR agent.

Word Count: 1,827

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Eddie!" I cried, dropping my suitcases to the ground and sprinting the short distance across the airport to hug my brother. He caught me, and although he had to take a step backward, he kept us from falling to the floor. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's wonderful to see you too, Y/N," he said, squeezing me tight. We stayed like that for a long time, reveling in finally seeing each other in person again. After years apart and one excruciatingly long flight from London, the Jarvis siblings were finally back together again.

Once we finally broke apart, I wasted no time turning to my brother's wonderful wife Ana and wrapping her in a tight hug as well.

"We're so happy you could finally come and visit us," she said, hugging me back just as tightly as I hugged her.

"Believe me, so am I."

We shared a smile as we pulled apart. I turned to find my brother had already grabbed both my bags from where I'd left them discarded on the floor.

"Shall we go then?" he asked. I grinned.

"We shall."

I linked arms with Edwin and Ana, and the three of us strode out of the airport together.

"So, exactly what do you have planned for us this week?" I asked. "This is my first time in Los Angeles, after all. I want it to be memorable."

"Don't worry, it most certainly will be," Edwin replied. "You're going to have an absolutely wonderful time."

****************

My brother hadn't been lying when he'd promised me a wonderful time. We drove back to his house, which stood on the property of Howard Stark's LA mansion, in a gorgeous convertible with the top down. We spent the first day at the beach, and the second day touring the city and seeing things I'd only ever seen on postcards. For my third day in the states, Stark let us visit his real-life movie set to see how it worked. By the time I joined my family at the table for breakfast on my fourth day of vacation, I never wanted to leave.

"So, Eddie," I started, kicking back as I munched on a piece of toast. "What's on the agenda for today."

Edwin scowled at me, and I just grinned back. He'd never liked that nickname, and he'd let it slide for the first few days I was here. Clearly, he'd gotten tired of it.

"Really, Y/N-"

"Hello!"

My brother had to cut his threat short at the sound of a woman's voice calling from the front entry. A second later, an absolutely gorgeous woman in a pink top and a dark green skirt breezed into the room, sunglasses and a smile on her face.

"Ms. Carter! Good morning!" said Eddie, perking up immediately.

"Good morning to you Mr. Jarvis, and Ana. And... who are you?"

I smiled, trying to control my rapid heartbeat as I reached out to shake her hand. "Y/N Jarvis. In LA for the first time to visit my brother."

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'm Peggy Carter, I'm an agent of the SSR and a friend of your brother's."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Peggy and I continued smiling at each other for a minute, before she cleared her throat and sat down. I tried not to stare at her, but I knew I wasn't succeeding. She was just so pretty.

"So, what have you all been up to since Y/N got to town?" asked Peggy.

"Oh, we've been going around and showing her the sights." My brother sounded a bit strange, so I tore my eyes away from Peggy to look at him. He stared back at me with a knowing expression on his face, and I shot him a glare that clearly said don't bring it up.

"Well that's awfully vague," teased Peggy. "What sights are those?"

"To tell you the truth, we haven't seen all that much beyond the beach, tourist traps, and Mr. Stark's movie set," said Edwin, turning back to Peggy with a new determination. "And Ana and I are so busy today, I'm afraid we won't be able to do much to change that. Although... Miss Carter, if you're not too busy, perhaps you wouldn't mind showing her around?"

I whirled on my brother, but before I could give him a hard, swift kick under the table, Peggy responded.

"I would love to," she said. I turned back to her, and she gave me a big smile. My heart stopped.

"Wonderful! Then it's all settled," said Edwin. "I suppose we'll see you two whenever you get back from your adventure."

He nodded to me and Peggy, then he and Ana stood and started heading for the door. Ana waved, and at the last second, Edwin turned and shot me a wink before he disappeared from the room. I honestly wasn't sure whether to kill him or hug him.

"So... anything in particular you were hoping to see today?"

I turned back to Peggy and found her watching me, a smile on her face. I took a deep breath to steel myself, then slowly, let a grin spread on my own face.

"Seeing as this is my first time in the country, I think I'll trust my resident expert. You pick the place and I'll follow."

Peggy's answering grin only made my heart race faster.

****************

Within just a few hours, I knew I owed my brother big time for setting this up. Peggy took me all throughout downtown LA, seeing the sites and trying all the best, hole-in-the-wall restaurants and cafés that only a local could find. We ran absolutely wild, laughing and tearing up the city together every step of the way.

Over the course of our day of adventure, my slight crush on Peggy Carter had ballooned into the worst crush I'd ever had. She was incredible, and even though I'd come here to spend time with Eddie and Ana, I never wanted to stop spending time with Peggy.

"Alright, how do you feel about one last adventure?" asked Peggy, turning to look at me from behind the driver's seat. We'd just left a gorgeous, almost-deserted beach after watching the sun sink into the ocean, and now we were sitting in the car.

"I say let's do it," I replied with a grin. Peggy smiled right back, and butterflies erupted in my stomach.

"Good. Then buckle up."

I did as she said as she pulled onto the road, navigating through the darkening city with expert precision. Eventually, we left the city lights behind and started working our way up a winding road into the mountains, where we could see the city lights sparkling below us.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked, staring at the beautiful sight outside the window.

"Have you ever heard of the Griffith Observatory?"

"Can't say that I have..."

"Well, it's just about the most spectacular view of the city you can get. As far as I'm concerned, it's just about the only tourist destination worth stopping at."

I smiled as the car pulled up to a big white building with a few green domed roofs. Peggy came to a stop and parked right outside, and then we both stepped out of the car.

"Follow me," said Peggy with a wicked grin as she spun on her heel and headed for the edge of the mountain. I did, and as we approached the railing the city came into clearer and clearer view.

"Peggy... this is incredible," I breathed. I walked the last few steps past her and leaned against the railing, taking in the gorgeous sight before me. When I'd first bought my plane ticket to visit my brother, I'd had no idea just how much I'd love it here.

"Isn't it? It's one of my favorite views in the city."

We stayed like that for a few more beats, and then I gathered my courage and turned to Peggy. She was already looking at me, a soft smile on her face.

"Thank you for showing me everything today," I said softly. "I... I've really enjoyed spending the day with you."

"So have I. I'm very glad I got to meet you, and spend some time with you."

"I'd... like to spend more time with you." I met Peggy's eyes as she raised an eyebrow in question. My heart hammered in my chest, but I forced myself to stay the course. I'd never felt like this about anyone before. "You're literally the coolest, prettiest, most amazing person I've ever met in my life."

Peggy blushed, but she didn't look away. "That's very sweet. You're... well, let's just say I haven't felt this way about someone in a... long time."

I smiled and took a step closer to Peggy. She didn't step away.

"It might be a bit premature for me to say this, but... I don't think I've ever felt about someone the way I feel about you."

Peggy's eyes glanced down to my lips, and before I could so much as lean forward, she wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. Our lips crashed into each others' as I wrapped my arms around her neck, and we deepened the kiss. My heart felt like it was about to explode in my chest, but damn it, at least I'd die happy if it gave.

Finally, Peggy and I broke apart, breathless. A smile immediately spread across my face, and then a matching one grew on Peggy's as we locked eyes.

"That was... amazing," I breathed. Our arms were still wrapped around each other, and I had no intention of letting go.

"Yes, it was. Although I'm suddenly a bit concerned that Mr. Jarvis might have an issue with me kissing his sister."

I scoffed. "Please. You think he was really busy today? He made all that up because he wanted to set me up with you. I almost killed him for it at breakfast, but now I might have to get him a thank you gift."

Peggy laughed. "Well then, I won't worry about it. And I also won't worry about spending a bit more time up here before we go back."

"Good."

With that, I leaned back in and kissed Peggy again, this time softer and sweeter. We lingered at the top of the mountain for a lot longer than we'd planned to, enjoying each other's company and taking in the sights. Despite how irritating I found him at times, Eddie's plan had worked even better than either of us could've imagined.

My vacation to the states was only supposed to last for a few weeks. But with each passing day, I started to seriously consider whether or not I ever wanted to go back.

A life with my brother, Ana, and Peggy Carter sounded like a deal too good to pass up.

[celiastjamesoscar]

We would spend the time as roomies with either talking about our tattoos or me forcing you to watch some other shows... I know Mr. Mackey but the artists doesn't stay long enough for me to split it up ☹️

Lexa traumatized all of us. And in that case you shouldn't watch Orange is the new Black then... Buuut Scream Queens and the movie Bottoms are both hilarious! I will keep on promoting both to you until you cave in and watch them.

YESS GRACE YESS GET THOSE TATTOOS!! Your mom will understand, how can she not with her sexy back. Not her wanting you to get a weird ass tattoo but denying you a beautiful one. Miss Girl Grace's Mom that doesn't make any sense 🤨

Yes ma'am it is for January/February. The report is done and I got the agenda slide for the presentation already. That's progress if I do say so myself 😁 Tomorrow at work I will keep working on it. Happy now?

YOU DIDN'T FAIL WOHOOO, THAT'S ALL THAT COUNTS! YOU WILL PASS THE OTHER EXAMS AS WELL! HAVE SOME SAM/MEL AS A GIFT https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe8HhXNA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGedFbvFa/

Ps. My Natasha/Wanda obsession is stronger than ever. I'm seriously considering watching all these boring Marvel movies just to catch some glimpses of them. The things we do for beautiful women 🙄

We can talk about our tattoos and watch the shows you force me to watch at the same time, a compromise, if you will. BOOOOOO!!!! Your artist needs to stay longer 👎🏻👎🏻

Lexa’s death was so sudden and literally out of thin fucking air. I know a good portion of what happens in orange is the new black, but that, I just mean everything with Alex and Piper. I wanted to go watch Bottoms in the movie theater when it came out, but my local movie theaters weren’t playing it and I would have had to drive to another state to watch it; I hate living around rednecks 😭

I seriously might get them soon, finals see deadly. There’s kind of a long story but not really to the eye tattoo on the back of my head, BUT my mom did say that if I got it, she would pay for my next tattoo…

I’m so proud of you!!!! Look at you not being a slacker!! I am very happy and you should be happy too!! <3

So, about that chemistry final 😀 109 students took it, and only person passed, with a 70% which is barely passing. But my professor curved everyone’s grade so I still passed the class!!

AND SAM/MEL GIFTS TOO??!? AN AMAZING WAY TO FINISH THE DAY!!

Natasha was my first love, so you should definitely watch all the boring marvel movies for her. And Wanda was so fine in the Multiverse of Madness 😻

[cblgblog]

Is Comic!Peggy a nazi/hydra? Or in general a bad person? I'm a Peggy fan who hasn't read the comics and idk if what people are saying is true or not these days 1

No. As usual, people are cherry picking things/haven't read the comics themselves because they're too lazy/don't care about anything that doesn't serve their own agenda.

 So when they brought comic! Peggy back in the last couple years, they basically revealed that she'd been doing a riff on what both Nat and Sharon have done in the MCU. What I mean by that is that she was on the same side as Steve--the non-Nazi side--they both wanted the same bad guys dealt with, but they were essentially doing different assignments, without Steve knowing. It's like in Cap 2 after the ship when Nat's like, I did my thing. I just had another objective that you didn't have.

 So, as per the most recent run, Peggy’s revealed to have been part of a group called the Daughters of Liberty. Secret thing that’s been around the whole time, supposedly, we just never knew about it because the writer of this particular run hadn’t made it up yet. Essentially, it’s yet another secret organization meant to protect the world, that’s been here all along, with members including Peggy, Sharon, Sue Richards of the Fantastic Four, Misty Knight…a lot of badass Marvel women were secretly in this thing, okay? Including ‘It was Agatha all along’ Harkness, because comics are weird. Peggy was recruited into this thing, she did not start it, but she did recruit Sharon later.

 Anyway, during the war, she and Steve did their whole punching Nazis thing, but she was also tasked with getting close to him/generally making sure that this new super weapon man was on their side and trustworthy. So again, kinda what Nat did in Iron man 2, kinda what Sharon did in Cap 2 when she was watching him from across the hall.

 She was never a Nazi. She was never Hydra. She was working towards the same basic goals as Steve, they were just working for different people, essentially. So yeah, she lied by omission, and behaved somewhat shadily, but that’s, you know, kinda what spies do. And there’s no indication her feelings for him weren’t genuine. She never says that, Steve never says that. He’s annoyed that he wasn’t in the know, but generally speaking, he’s just happy she’s not dead, and they end the run on good terms, even though Sharon is his main love interest in the books.

So yeah, there’s a lot of bitching about oh, she’s a liar, she made Sharon a liar, everyone lied to Steve, these horrible bitch women. Which, fine, but it’s nothing that hasn’t been covered in the MCU to an extent already/nothing to the infinite number of times Nick Fury has also parceled out information selectively, comics and MCU both.

 She was never Hydra. She was never pro-Nazi. Steve was, in the comics, that one time none of us like to talk about because fuck you Nick Spencer, but she wasn’t. She lied by omission, but she didn’t fabricate feelings for Steve or use him for her own gain, and when it was all done with, Steve came away mildly annoyed and that’s about it. The run still ends with Steve, Peggy, Sharon and Bucky all chilling and having a beer together.

 She was a spy. She was written like a spy, she did some shady spy things, and that’s about all you can take from that run. Unless you’re a semi-illiterate Peggy anti, obviously.

[metalphoenix]

Reacting to TLAT Reviews pt1

I saw Thor: Love and Thunder last night and my friend @marvelvibess​ just sent me these hilarious reviews of the movie. They are too good not to react to honestly. 

{Image description: A post by user Logan Ory one day ago. There are 5 stars one is yellow the rest are white. It is light gray text on a black background. The text reads: Lots of gen Z jokes at an ADD pace with enough “woke” garbage to annoy even the most moderate of people. Humor was largely tasteless, action was good but few and far between, and the only really good character/character development was the villain. This movie is about as trash as a Marvel movie gets. They have not ceased to disappoint lately. Taika Waititi usually puts out great films, this was not on of them. End Image description}

As an ADHD gen Z I loved that “ADD pace!” This movie isn’t for you Logan its for the queer neurodivergents and I love it for that!  

{Image Description. Review by Rachel Tooley one day ago. There are five stars one is yellow and the rest are white. It is light grey text on a black background. The text reads: Chris Hemsworth is the only good thing about this movie. Watched every single Marvel movie and this is probably the last I’ll support. They’re ruining the MCU with their whole agenda. Whats the point of saying a rock is gay?? First off, 2 MALES can not procreate, second, its a rock, Why do they have to just shove and shove and shove LGBTQRSTUV down everyone’s throats. Go woke, go broke. End Image Description}

Ok so I love this one. First of all literally every marvel movie ever made has a political agenda. The comics do too! The mutants/X Men are an allegory for every minority. Caption America was created by two jewish men to fight Nazi’s in a time when nazi ideals were pretty common in the US. Marvel has never been apolitical.

Second I love how hung up on Korg being gay she is. First off Korg is gay, married to a man and has kids in the comics, its literally cannon. Second these movies involve: gods, aliens, genetically enhanced super soldiers and a man that can turn big and green and she’s mad about a gay rock??? Bro literally nothing in these movies are realistic, but unlike hulk, and super soldiers we know queer people exist. 

{Image description: Light grey text on a black background reading: Dare I say the “inclusiveness” may have seemed forced and unnecessary? Maybe the studio/producers/actors had too much to say and interfered with creativity, or Taika was trying too hard, I don’t know? End image description}

Karen diversity isn’t forced people just exist. Also it was talked about so naturally there was noting forced about it! Unnecessary! Bro do you know how excited I was to see queer people like me on the big screen!!! Good representation is always necessary! Also Taika was working hard. Working hard to give us the queer rep we want and deserve.

[mitchpell]

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Fandoms: Hawkeye (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Cooper Barton & Laura Barton & Lila Barton & Nathaniel Pietro Barton Characters: Clint Barton, Lila Barton, Cooper Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Laura Barton Additional Tags: Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Pre-Episode: s01e01 Never Meet Your Heroes (Hawkeye), Christmas Vacation, Deaf Clint Barton, Hard of Hearing Clint Barton, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Drama, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter #10: Lexington Ave./59th St. Subway

“Nate,” Clint called as the four of them stepped out into the brisk morning air. “You need to hold my hand, Bud.”

“Do I back to?” Nate whined, his shoulders slumping as he flopped his head back.

“Yes,” Clint replied easily, ignoring the dramatic display. “There’s too many people and way too many cars. Come on,” he nettled, reaching out towards his youngest when Nate merely stared at him with pleading eyes. “Hand.” With a final groan, Nate reluctantly slipped his hand into Clint’s, allowing himself to be pulled close to his father’s left side.

“Alright, Lila,” Clint said, turning to his daughter. “This is your adventure. Lead on.”

“Ok,” Lila said, more to herself than any of them as she consulted the subway map on her phone. “We want —e green nine taken on city-kind treat and Park Avenue. So——at way?” she asked, pointing down the street to their right.

Clint nodded, basing his response more off the direction she’d indicated and the conversation they’d had over breakfast than the nonsense he’d actually heard. “Lead on,” he encouraged, as he fell into step beside her, with Nate and Cooper in tow.

True to his word, the four of them had poured over Lila’s agenda during breakfast. Honestly, it hadn’t been much. Just a list of a few places she wanted to visit: the new Statue of Liberty, Grand Central Station, Avengers Tower, and the Walk of the Vanished through Central Park. All of them Avengers-related, as that seemed to be the theme for their little trip. Clint had made sure that there wasn’t anything Nate and Coop wanted to add to the list, and then the four of them had started planning out the day.

They were going to start with the Statue of Liberty, the point furthest from their hotel, and then gradually work their way back. Liberty Island and, consequently, the Statue of Liberty Museum were both closed to tourists due to the ongoing construction, but they could still take the ferry out to get a closer look at things.

Getting to Battery Park was going to be their biggest hurdle. Too far to walk, Lila had practically begged him to let them take the subway. She wanted the complete New York experience, which apparently included subjecting themselves to the loud, overly crowded underground trains. Of course, once proposed, Nate and Cooper were quick to jump on the idea. Outnumbered and not wanting to disappoint, Clint had relented. Agreeing on the stipulation that they’d take a cab or at least an Uber back, foregoing on all accounts the free and admittedly much nicer Stark Industries car they had on standby.

The walk up to the Lexington/59th Street subway station was a bit of a hike, about eight blocks or so. But it was early and cool, the kids’ enthusiasm was high, and the streets and storefronts were spectacularly decorated, so there was little complaining. Nate got a little confused when they passed the subway station on 5th Avenue, but both Coop and Lila were quick to explain that there were multiple trains and that that wasn’t the right one.

Clint didn’t bother to hide the smile that stretched across his face or the pride that welled in his chest as he listened to his two eldest interact with their brother. He loved these moments, where he could see how they were growing and maturing into young adults. It was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time.

His smile faltered as it hit him at how fast—so damn fast—they were growing up. He’d always carried a degree of guilt, and a mountain of regret, because of the time he’d missed with them. Weeks, sometimes months, at a time, spanning the years, because of his job. Moments and memories he’d never get back, because of the latest mission.

It was worse now, because of the Snap. After five long years in his own personal hell, he felt as though he’d missed so much. In reality, he’d missed nothing. It was such a jarring contradiction, the disconnect between what he felt and what was real. He hadn’t missed a moment, not a single second, but he still felt the weight of it. The guilt and regret, the grief, pressed in on him, threatening to crush him. It left him wishing he could go back and somehow make-up for time that hadn’t been lost.

“Did is it!” Lila exclaimed, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Green nu-ber tour.”

Clint took a deep centering breath before clearing his throat. “Yep,” he agreed, as fished his wallet out of his coat pocket with his free hand. Flipping it open, he retrieved his MetroCard, a relic from the near two years he’d spent practically living in the Avengers’ tower, as they raided SHIELD/Hydra bases, searching for Loki’s scepter.

Continue Reading on AO3

[master-sass-blast]

I wonder. How will Piotr deal with (y/n) any gender or none, having to deal with the chaos of time and universe (MoM style…kinda…)..

Iiiiiii'm gonna assume "MoM" stands for Multiverse of Madness? Because I can't necessarily reason out what else it'd stand for.

Granted, idk how much I have to offer for this? I haven't really kept up with MCU releases in the past few years. Hearing about Infinity War and Endgame burned me pretty good, and now that a lot of the episodic stuff --that still plays into canon and understanding what's happening in the movies--is behind the Disney+ paywall, I really just can't be bothered.

I'm also not of the opinion that changing the Reader's powers (because I'm assuming this ask is implying that the Reader would have powers similar to what's on screen in Multiverse of Madness, rather than that type of stuff happening incidentally to the Reader without any other connection) really changes much of their relationship with Piotr. At the end of the day, it's the personalities that make the relationship dynamic, not the mutations/powers.

However, I can see the potential for some unique characterization for the Reader, which I'll expound on below the cut.

-Disclaimer: I know nothing about Multiverse of Madness, or anything that's happened in Marvel past Infinity War and Endgame, and those I only know about from reading fandom posts/Wikis; I didn't actually watch the movies. Anything I'm talking about here is mostly just stuff I've gleaned from fandom conversation and advertising.

-I think Piotr would have some familiarity with powers similar to what's exhibited in Multiverse of Madness and other related materials. Illyana, after all, has magical powers --and, in some comics, is Sorceress Supreme of Limbo. So, if the Reader had powers in that category, he wouldn't find any of it off-putting or alarming; it's all old hat for him.

-To my understanding, the powers in Multiverse of Madness (and Scarlet Witch's powers, since she's featuring in the movie and the multiverse) revolve a lot around manipulating time and reality. There's obviously Wanda's whole deal in the TV show, along with Dr. Strange using the Time Stone in the first Doctor Strange movie. There's also the teleportation, the cool "turn parts of the world into fractal type shit" powers in the first movie, and astral projection. So, based on that, I'm using those types of powers (not all of them in one, but something similar) as my base for the Reader's abilities.

-I can see some potential for getting "lost" in time and reality; essentially, due to their abilities, the Reader loses track of where they are in time and reality. I could see them being disoriented easily, losing track of tasks, forgetting what they're doing in the middle of doing it, that sort of thing.

-To that end, I think Piotr would try to help them figure out what it is they need to stay grounded. He'd probably help them construct some sort of daily calendar and agenda so they can more easily keep track of what day it is and what daily responsibilities they have.

-I could also see him encouraging the Reader to meditate/meditating with them as a way of both bonding and helping the Reader work on staying mentally present.

-Also: snacks and drinks. Piotr would basically always have some sort of snack on hand for the Reader and encourage them to keep a water bottle with them/a thermos of some kind so that they stay hydrated and fed, on account of their spaciness.

-He'd also definitely have a mental list of things the Reader find most engaging, so that if they start drifting off to other realities/times, he can turn on some music or a TV show to help them "come back" to the present.

-(Also he's absolutely going to be a stickler about the Reader not astral projecting while they're sleeping to get stuff done. Sleep is important, and that means not detaching your spirit from your body, thank you very much.)

-(Also also I love the idea of the Reader using their powers to make little "living pictures" for Piotr based on the drawings and paintings he makes.)

[papersandkeyboards]

6/13-19: The Hunt for Quite Everything: Comicbooks, High School Diploma, and The Last Moments in Friendships

38th WEEK, JUNE 13-19, 2016.

If you know me well enough or you don’t but you’ve been reading this very tumblr page, I’m not surprised if you find yourself being bored listening to my likeness towards American comic books.

Wait, I’ll rephrase that, because I don’t think I even deserve that status. I like some American comic books, often Marvel over DC, and often only certain issues of certain characters, i.e. Black Widow, Deadpool, Hawkeye, and Ms. Marvel. These comic books were the second thing that popped into my mind when the plane I was in on September 2015 hit the American sky (the first thing being “oh shit, it’s getting real”).

This is my second-to-last week being in the Emerald City, being in the country where I can access these comic books I love dearly for only $2 a piece (in Indo they were like $10-15 AND they don’t even come in full volumes), and this raised an urgency to do what I had decided to do:

a comic book hunt.

But first, I’ll just write the summary of other parts of the week as the following.

-

Monday, June 13:

The Oceanography class (more specifically, the Salish Sea trip students) went to UW to present the project we’ve been working on since the trip. We finally reunited with the Salish Sea people that we had gotten to know for the 3 days of the trip, and it was nice seeing them again. And who am I kidding, any school trip is always fun, and UW never failed to amuse me with its classy architecture.

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Tuesday, June 14:

The school held this thing called Senior Breakfast (I know right, they have so many events for the seniors and it had been fun!) and they held it in Rainier Beach Community Center just across the street from school. The event was pretty self-explanatory: you came earlier in the day before school starts, you could invite your family member, you sat on one of the non-assigned round tables, and you could help yourself to the breakfast buffet in the room. There were speeches and such, but mostly it was the fun of getting free food and hanging out, skipping a wee bit of school hours.

The agenda of the school itself was Senior Checkout Day, where you went to your classes just to get the teachers’ signatures on a form that basically stated you’re a senior and you’ve passed your classes and you were very much welcome to get out of the school (in an honorable way—that is graduation). There were also yearbooks given (for those who bought them) and I had those signed around and I signed some yearbooks myself. I made use of this opportunity not only to take pictures with my dear teachers (and other school staff I wanted to take pictures with), but also to give them little Indo trinkets and some little thank-you cards I wrote for them. Same thing I did with my professors back in Seattle Central.

[let’s pretend I put here the pics with DJ, Ms. Shaw, Señor Cadenas, Ms. Harris, Coach Beavers, Ms. Yip, Ms. Wong, Jurdy, and Mr. Henderson because yours truly had lost 90% of her exchange experience pics gone from damaging her hard drive for good]

(…but here’s the thing! I was lucky to be able to have these pics of me and Ms. Street and Pierce and Tomchick preserved)

So the pose with Pierce was because he told us during one of our classes that he had always had the same pose for the yearbooks (and it was true—he showed us the yearbooks from before). And the pic with Tomchick because this guy was the one who inspired me to get those pair of The Scream socks. Tomchick had been the guy who wears wacky socks all the time—he would show us his socks every now and then—and I kid you not, I never again take socks for granted.

(of course, before this day, I made him wear The Scream socks for Senior Checkout Day so he would match mine and we could make this photo happen)

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Wednesday, June 15:

Another thing that this week being the second-to-last week of my presence in Seattle and its everlasting glory of beautiful things, I, of course, had to take some time to shop (despite running out of luggage space). Among other things, I remember vividly buying two things: two shower curtains with printed illustration of a big world map and periodic tables (a request by my mom) from Bed Bath and Beyond, and a silicon ice cube tray in the shape of the US states (my utter hedonism) from Nordstrom Rack. I also hunted the waterfront and their antique shops for (more) wacky socks or simply looking around. In the evening, I took Karen and Eric watched Now You See Me 2 because I was a total groupie of the first movie. (Karen ended up giving bad reviews for the second one, and I agreed that the second one was a bit too much but I still loved it nonetheless ehehehehe)

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Thursday, June 16: Comic Book Hunt Day 1 (of 2)

You see, what I had been doing with the way I acquire comic books was that I walked into the store, I looked around, saw anything I like and available, and bought them. Most of times the issues I bought weren’t in order because a) I was too late that they didn’t sell the early issues anymore, or b) the next issues hadn’t come yet. So, by the end of the exchange year, I have found myself with many comic books in the same series but with some issues missing here and there. However, I have found some issues bundled into volumes of 4-6 issues which had better paper quality altogether, though on the other hand it seemed like a bit of a waste because in some cases I already had 2, 3, even 4 issues on the volume. Buying a whole volume of 6 issues would fill me in with the 2 issues I hadn’t gotten, but that would also mean I used my money on 4 issues I’ve already had.

The days before today, in these last weeks of no more waiting, I’ve sorted all the Ms. Marvels that I owned then I listed the issues I haven’t had. Then, I’ve started on calling one comic bookstore I know, listing the issues I was looking for. This comic bookstore I called didn’t have all that I need, which led me to calling for another, and then another, and that was how I basically had several booked issues of Ms. Marvel comic books in different comic book stores all over the city.

Before I embarked on my first store to hunt, I stopped by Elliott Bay Bookstore, hanging out by myself. Elliott Bay Bookstore is the nearest bookstore from home, and it was the second-best bookstore I’ve ever visited (the first being downtown Seattle Barnes & Noble). However, what makes Elliott Bay Bookstore different from B&N was the homy feeling to it. The floors, shelves, and railings were of wood and you can see the vast first floor from the loft-ish second floor balcony. Under the second floor was a little café, and that was where I spent a few hours writing earlier entries of this blog.

(pics from the good and gracious interwebs)

Books and café. Such an ideal place.

After noon I went. My first target would be Phoenix Comics and Games by Seattle Central College, but, if I was not mistaken, they didn’t have any of the issues I was looking for. The next on the list was this store downtown that I’ve forgotten the name of (what I do remember is that it was the store from which Antonio gave me a $10 gift certificate for my birthday). It was pretty easy: I came in, told the shopkeeper I was the one on the phone and asked for a certain issue of Ms. Marvel, they went to the back room and came back with the item of quest, I paid, and I left (well, after some minutes of looking around because why not). Not much time to waste anyway, because I had planned to go to the zoo, now that the day was warm and sunny (compared to my first visit to the zoo when it was winter cold and most of the exhibits were closed anyway).

1 comic bookstore done, 2 more to go!

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Friday, June 17: Comic Book Hunt Day 2 (of 2) and, well, Graduation

Ah, right.

I got too excited in telling you about my comic book hunt I almost forgot about graduation.

So we had the graduation ceremony this day in Memorial Stadium in Seattle Center Area. It was not until after lunch-ish so I still got time on my hands. I went to comic book store #2 and #3, respectively Golden Age Collectibles by the waterfront (this was the most complete comic book store by far. Complete as in it also had a whole lot of other geek stuff, like action figures—from regular-sized to life-sized—, really old comic books, and trading cards. All in mint condition) and, after looking around the store for a while, wasted no time and caught the bus straight to Wallingford area to Comics Dungeon.

I did my best, but at last I have satisfied my thirst for American comic books!

I didn’t spend a lot in there as I have other travel plans (squeezing as much agenda as I can in this short time I had left), so I caught the bus and went straight back south to the waterfront for the tourist attraction I haven’t had the chance to visit despite people going there all the time:

Yep. The infamous Seattle Gum Wall.

It was so amazing to the point it didn’t even look disgusting to me. The solo traveling situation got me in a bit of a difficulty taking pictures of myself, so I got a stranger to do it (and then the picture was gone anyway so what’s the point).

/looks at watch/ time to go back home, dress pretty, and off we went to Memorial Stadium to graduate!

You see, I would LOVE to brag to everyone how I graduated high school twice (one from RBHS and one from my original high school in Indo), but unfortunately, that was not the case.

Gretar and I weren’t given (rented?) togas. We also didn’t get any diploma. So all we would do in the event was to do what everyone else was doing, except for the toga-wearing and diploma-receiving part. All the seniors gather sporadically around the entrance of the stadium, all of them wearing togas. I did my best to dress nicely since I was not going to be wearing one. We did get some tassels and colorful necklaces, although I didn’t really know what they were for. The tassels were from the school, and I suppose they symbolize something like the class color or honor students or something—everyone had one but some had more than the others.

Oh another cool thing was that, as a celebration, some people got customized long necklaces from friends and/or family. Some were of flowers, but many of them—and I assume it’s the tradition around here—were of candies. I vaguely remember that people can buy them ready-made for this purpose, that’s why so many people had candy necklaces. Honestly, those are cooler than the flower ones since this one I can actually put to use after wearing them.

I didn’t have any graduation attribute aside from the tassels and necklaces, so I borrowed Jake’s grad cap just for a pic (that I lost). I do remember they were all like “you’re so cute!” with a grad cap without the robe, but I’m pretty sure that’s just me looking 5 years younger than all of RB seniors present.

We all filed in this one long single line from the tribunes and walked outside towards the field where all the chairs and the stage are. Later we found out we would be sitting on the stage, behind the podium and along with the faculties, and the other seniors would sit on chairs provided to them facing the stage. Families were seated on the bleachers of the stadium.

It wasn’t like it was a spotlight, because we were in the back of the stage anyway, and everyone was paying attention to whoever was speaking at the podium. Jurdy, teachers, et cetera. Ceremonially, we received the… case (?) for the diplomas, but of course with no diploma inside. Doesn’t matter. Still cool.

After graduation, I tagged along Gretar’s host family to Cheesecake factory for some big fat cake slices.

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Saturday, June 18:

It was a beautiful chill Saturday. It was supposed to be the day of Summer Solstice Parade—which I had been dying to go to—but I had to give that a pass for a couple agendas: one, a visit to Jenny and Seth’s house, and two, Jake’s graduation party.

(a little spoiler of why I had wanted to go to the Solstice Parade: because people said it was hella fun, and a rare annual sighting of cyclists with 100% body paint and 0% clothing. I reckoned people might be a little bit taken aback had they known I was eager to go to the Solstice Parade for—imagine me saying this in my enthusiastic, 18-year-old self—“naked cyclists!” but at this point of time in the exchange year, who am I to care anymore)

It was basically a day of clashing agendas. Supposedly, after spending the time hanging out and watching Pitch Perfect 2 with Harper at Jenny and Seth’s, I could have gone to either of these three agendas: Jake’s grad party, Gretar’s grad party, or the Solstice Parade. Given that I will see Gretar at my own farewell party in the upcoming weekend, and I valued my formed friendships with people at Rainier Beach High School more than some naked strangers, I decided to go to Jake’s grad party at their house.

The party was a lot of fun. It wasn’t like a party party—we chilled in their backyard, having drinks and snacks, we played bocce, we played Cards Against Humanity (my first time ever playing it and boy I was hooked. Then I came back home to Indo to never play it again because it wasn’t sold here and if it did, it was hella expensive). The Seattle sky was gray and cloudy—what else is new?—but the cold and light drizzle was never in the way to stop us from having fun.

On the way home and afterwards, I look back at the friendships I’ve had at Rainier Beach—truthfully may not be a forever and well-maintained one, what with the distance and everyone’s doing their own thing after high school and me being bad at maintaining relationships in general—and I thought,

I obviously was not as outgoing as everyone else, and my other exchange student friends may have better experience, but hey, this was something worth being grateful for.

(besides, if I was not grateful, I would have nothing to hold on to anymore)

At least they had etched a good memory in my short 9 months, and the brief fun I had during that time will be something I’ll cherish forever. Not only for the exchange year in general, but also for my own character development. I was sure as hell that I would have a hard time finding friends—and I might have, at the start, but in the end I wasn’t that much miserable. In fact, I wasn’t miserable at all.

Anyway.

The last day of the week (June 19), the city of rain decided to be a little bit nicer this time. The sky was bright blue, splotches of white clouds here and there, all in all an exquisite day to take a ferry out to Bainbridge Island with Karen and her friend Jen. Not a lot of touristy places in Bainbridge Island—at one point I remembered us going to a cute little craft shop—and we’re back home by afternoon, in which I continued my way to Kira’s place for her good-bye party. Another fun evening party, hanging out with friends and family, wholesome conversations, photos taken, heartfelt hugs exchanged.

Like what a proper good-bye party would be like.

(also, it’s a little strange solely due to the fact that I will be having my own good-bye party the following week, during which I will see many of the same people in Kira’s, so more heartfelt content on my end can wait until then)

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So, uh, hooray for the second-to-last week in the US, and therefore, second-to-last entry for this blog (excluding epilogue), I guess?

See you around.

Nabila Safitri