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defectivevillain · 9 months

Text

judgment by the hounds

pairing: Loki Laufeyson & Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic; reader's race is ambiguous and gender/pronouns are unspecified)

summary:

Loki is captured and held in S.H.I.E.L.D. captivity. However, he doesn’t attempt to break free right away. Instead, he bides his time by waiting for something—or, more accurately, someone.

You’re an FBI agent called in by S.H.I.E.L.D. to interrogate their newest prisoner, Loki Laufeyson.

word count: 5.6k | ao3 version

warnings: blood, injury & gore typical to SotL; manipulation & mind games

I thought about writing this as I was reading Silence of the Lambs — I imagined questioning Loki & having a similar dynamic with him during his temporary imprisonment. There aren’t any explicit references to SoL in here, but I wanted to include it as a fandom tag because Hannibal & Clarice’s dynamic really inspired this fic.

This is not canon compliant, and there will likely be some discrepancies. Just pretend this is an alternate timeline. :>

The title of this fic is from I’m Your Man by Mitski. The lyrics “I’ll meet judgment by the hounds… People always gave me love… Others were never to blame after all… You believe me like a god, I’ll betray you like a man” felt pretty relevant to this fic.

The reader is racially ambiguous, gender is ambiguous, and pronouns aren't used. warnings: canon-typical violence and gore (typical to SotL)

thanks anna (@pinocchiospissrock) for the beta! (any remaining mistakes are mine.) luv u and so excited to see u soon!!!! <333

If you told your younger self that your criminal investigative work would earn you a conversation with the legendary Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., your younger self would have laughed. The mere thought would be preposterous. Fury is the face of the entire organization, and the founder of the Avengers! What would a mere FBI agent like yourself do to even earn a moment with him, let alone a full conversation?

Apparently, you’re becoming somewhat renowned for your investigative work. You’ve always avoided the press—otherwise you would have noticed your name cropping up in cases with big profiles in the public eye. You would’ve noticed that you were slowly starting to get more and more credit for your accomplishments; you would’ve been able to connect the dots between Nick Fury—desperate for information and willing to do anything to get it—and you—an FBI agent rising in the ranks for important work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit and Jack Crawford.

Despite these recognitions, however, you can’t quite believe that you’re being flown to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New York City to speak with Nick Fury. Truly, this feels like some kind of fever dream. As you’re escorted through the high-level security installments on the ground floor of the building, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not meant to be here. This must be some kind of mistake, you’re thinking to yourself, even as you’re given a visitor ID badge. You’re led into a glass elevator that rises to the twentieth floor, through a cold stone hall and even more security installments. Eventually, you come face-to-face with a nondescript wooden door. The security guard knocks on the door and opens it for you, revealing a clean and modern space with black leather furniture and an array of windows (bulletproof and likely very durable) overlooking the street below. There is a figure seated at the grand desk in the center of the room. Nick Fury looks up at the sudden disturbance, his brown eye immediately assessing your form before moving to the guard in the doorway. He nods and the guard steps out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“Agent, have a seat,” Fury offers. It’s an order, not a simple statement. You comply immediately and Fury raises an eyebrow. For a long moment, tension settles in the air as Nick Fury unsubtly scrutinizes you. Fury puts a contemplative hand on his chin and stares at you. Despite the eye patch covering his left eye, his menacing gaze is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Fury remarks vaguely. You nod. “I need you to do something for me.” You raise an eyebrow. When he continues, any confidence you gained from the notion of him requesting something of you promptly fades from existence. He tells you about a god with a penchant for mischief that borders on cruelty—about a devastating attack on New York City that left thousands injured and hundreds dead. You had heard about the attack on the news, but you had too much going on to truly process what you were seeing. Fury tells you that this trickster, a Norse god by the name of Loki, is currently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most secure containment. It’s clear S.H.I.E.L.D. is desperate for information, otherwise they wouldn’t be bringing you in for something like this—this is far above your pay grade. Norse gods were never mentioned in your training at Quantico.

“Loki has been largely uncooperative,” Fury continues, immune to the emotional whiplash you’re currently experiencing. “We needed to try a different approach.” He looks at you after that. “And we need more information. Can I count on you to do this?” You take a slow breath in. Do you really have a choice?

“Yes, sir,” you respond. Fury regards you for another second, before evidently deciding that your answer is satisfactory. He then hands you a device, which appears to be a pass that allows you entrance into the high-security cells. It’s an effective dismissal. You take it and murmur a word of thanks, before stepping out of the room. With the security guard’s guidance, you’re able to learn the location of the high-security prison and you take another elevator ride. When the doors ding, a giant metronome sounds off in your head. You can’t go back now, you think to yourself as you cross the threshold of the elevator and step towards the reinforced metal door with a fingerprint and retinal scanner. You glance at the guard, who nods and urges you to continue. Somehow, in the brief time that you spoke with Fury, your information must've been registered in the system—as your name appears on screen after it scans your finger. You then lean down and allow the machine to scan your retina, before a blue light flashes once. You frown at the door, before seeing a screen flashing on the left side. You press the pad Fury gave you to the screen and the door clicks, swinging open ominously.

You take a step forward and leave the door open, expecting for the guard to follow you. They shoot you a disbelieving look and take a step backwards, letting the door fall shut. You’re left alone in a hallway reminiscent of a steel prison. As you slowly walk down the narrow path between iron bars, you feel hard gazes boring into your very skin. Someone jeers at you. You keep walking until you reach the solitary cell at the end of the hall. For the first time since entering the space, you allow yourself to look up—only to look into the glimmering green eyes of Loki Laufeyson.

Safe to say, Fury neglected to mention that Loki would be the single most intimidating individual you’ve ever had the misfortune and displeasure to meet. Staring at him through the thick walls of glass, you’re suffocated with a sudden, intense dread. Even if Fury hadn’t given you any background on him, you’re sure you still would’ve been able to surmise this man’s maleficence and cruelty. He has long dark hair, sharp features, and a positively malevolent grin on his face.

“Hello,” you murmur guardedly. The thick walls of glass aren’t enough to ensure you of your safety—that attentive gaze cuts straight through your skin and sinks deep into the bone. The god raises an eyebrow at you, pausing for a moment to allow you the opportunity to turn tail and run away. You very nearly take the gifted opportunity, before you remember that information on the invasion could save lives.

“Are you lost?” Loki asks, regarding you with as much respect as someone regards a pebble beneath their feet. Your hands are ever so slightly trembling from your sides and you stuff your hands in your pockets, suddenly feeling the need to keep yourself occupied.

“No,” You eventually reply. You decide to introduce yourself, before raising your eyebrows at the god in return. You resist the urge to ask him to introduce himself. You know who he is, and you would likely end up insulting him with the question anyway. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to be very careful around him. The slightest word or provocation would lose the information for good. Why are you being called in for this, again?

“What could possibly have possessed Fury to send a mere agent such as yourself to speak with me?” The god questions, echoing your very own thoughts. You take a deep breath and try to steel your nerves.

“I’m a criminal investigator,” you respond, once your tongue is no longer ironed to the roof of your mouth. “I’ve spent most of my life studying how criminal types think and what motivates them. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Interesting,” Loki hums. He doesn’t seem the least bit intrigued; rather, he appears incredibly bored. “And you think this Midgardian experience is enough to grant you a conversation with me? You know nothing of who I am and what I am capable of.”

You want to be surprised, but you expected something along those lines. A brief white-hot fury overtakes you as you remember the tension in Fury’s shoulders, the withdrawn tone in his voice, how he seemed to expect you to fail. Everyone is expecting you to fail. “I know enough,” you respond, before you can contemplate the consequences of doing so. In truth, Fury had given you Loki’s file earlier. He also left you with a few words of warning. You manage to tear yourself away from your conversation with Fury and focus on what you viewed in Loki’s file. The information comes to mind within seconds. “You caused quite the scene in Germany. I suspect that was the intention.” There is no acknowledgement that he’s even listening to you, save for the intense gaze that seems to be dissecting you for his own amusement.

The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. “You’re the adopted son of Odin and Frigga, and the brother of Thor. Your real father is Laufey, the Frost Giant King. You’re the God of Mischief. And you’re a constant thorn in the side of the Avengers and Nick Fury.”

“Those are just the facts,” you conclude. You’re met with nothing but silence. There’s an undercurrent of expectation in the air, as if he’s waiting for you to continue. You grit your teeth. Somehow, you have his attention now. It would be best if you didn’t lose it. “As for my first impressions… You’re manipulative, obviously. Cunning and clever. Selfish, extremely controlling. You derive pleasure from other people’s pain. You enjoy being the chessmaster—manipulating your pawns and discarding them the moment they’ve fulfilled their purpose.”

“Beneath all that, you’re frighteningly human. Jealousy, envy, a visceral desire for Odin’s approval, and a thirst for power… You delight in your darkest urges and scorn any of the ones that come close to resembling even a hint of genuine emotion.”

“Now will you answer my questions?” You finish.

Loki’s head is down now. His shoulders are shaking and for a second, you think he’s crying. Then he raises his head, revealing a twisted grin on his face. “No one has possessed the courage to talk to me in such a manner in millenia,” the god remarks, his hands clasped behind his back. He takes a step forward and inspects you through the glass. You remember your fear from earlier. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I’ve already told you,” you answer. You’ve done this song and dance before, and you have enough experience to know nothing good comes from giving a criminal your name. In the few rare instances in which it seemed that they simply wouldn’t give in, you would give a fake name. You weren't foolish enough to try that with the God of Mischief, though. “Besides, that doesn’t matter. I’m here for information.” You repeat for what feels like the umpteenth time.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Loki says, studying you with scrutiny. Your skin crawls. Everything about this feels like a horrible idea. Not for the first time, you question why you were called in for this assignment. “I’m not allowed visitors otherwise—on account of the last one being found in his home with his throat slit.” There’s another flash of amusement in his eyes.

“Fun,” you remark flatly. Your heart is racing out of your chest, but you know not to show your apprehension. Fear is Loki’s game. “Seriously, though. I assume you want to get out of here in the next millennium.” You remark.

“Au contraire,” Loki replies. It takes you a few seconds to process what he says, and several more seconds to recall the translation: ‘On the contrary.’ You wait patiently for the god to continue. “You don’t really think I’ll be released, do you? And don’t bother pretending otherwise—you don’t have the power or authority to make promises here.”

“I’m not sure why you’re entertaining conversation with me in the first place, then,” you reason. You feel lost in this conversation, admittedly. It’s taking an unhealthy amount of mental energy to keep yourself afloat in these verbal traps.

“Maybe I’m bored,” Loki drawls. In the fluorescent lighting beaming down on him, he looks every bit as royal as he is rumored to be. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to let your guard down, for your mental defenses to fade away and corrode into nothingness before my control slips into your psyche, forcing you to be a spectator as I pilot your body and mind.”

You stare at him for a moment, heart hammering away in your chest. Somehow, it’s that sentiment that cements the reality of the situation. You’re not qualified enough for whatever the hell this is. You’ve interrogated loads of criminals before, but they’ve never posed a legitimate physical and mental threat to you in the same manner that Loki does. You find yourself genuinely fearing for your safety as you stare at Loki’s glittering green eyes.

As your heart races and you take a few steps backwards, you catch a sudden blur in your peripheral vision, before you’re struck with white-hot pain that flares up the left side of your face. You blink dazedly and bring a hand up to your left cheek, only to find blood splattered across your skin. There’s a jagged fragment resting on the floor near your foot—evidently the cause of the wound. You turn to the left, only to find the man from before clutching at the bars of his cell with ferocity—a crazed look in his eyes as he stares at you. Your gaze then falls to the porcelain toilet in the corner of his cell, with a notable chunk missing. That must’ve been where he got the shard. The side of your face is burning, hot blood trickling down your cheek. You press the back of your hand to the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Unsurprisingly, the wound doesn’t magically heal or stop bleeding. You grimace and set off down the hallway, intending to leave and find a first-aid kit. Just as your palm flattens on the door, Loki says your name.

You pause, your cheek stinging. You feel Loki’s gaze at your back and you know you probably don’t have the luxury to continue walking away. Yet… you can’t bear to turn around. You open the door and walk away, unaware of the furious expression on Loki’s face. The security guard’s eyebrows climb up their face as they see the blood trickling down your face, but you simply hand them the keypad and walk away.

You have nothing in lieu of information and a fresh, jagged cut on your cheek. You don’t expect to be called to the high-security cells again any time soon—not after that complete and utter failure. You leave S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that day with a bandage on your cheek and wounded pride. The conversation with Loki keeps you up that night in your hotel room, as you turn over every statement in your head. There’s a notable disconnect between Loki’s words and his actions. Furthermore, if he’s truly so powerful, then why is he still contained? You know S.H.I.E.L.D. is well-equipped to handle villains, but Loki is a Norse god. Surely he could snap his fingers and transport himself somewhere else? If that’s the case, you can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t escaped yet.

You avoid work the next few days to fully recover from the physical and mental injuries acquired that day. It’s nice to have some free time, but it is still somewhat dampened by the knowledge that you didn’t get any information from Loki. Fury is going to be, well, furious.

Safe to say, you don’t expect to see Nick Fury on your doorstep one morning, a troubled expression on his face. You greet him and try to invite him in, but he remains outside. His dissecting gaze flits about your face, searching for something. “It’s been an interesting day, Agent,” he evidently decides to say.

“How so?” You ask. Fury glances to his left and right, before taking a small step forward and leaning closer.

“A prisoner in the high security area was murdered,” he murmurs, “He was found in his cell. It seems he was fed his own tongue before he choked and suffocated to death. Miggs. Awful guy, but… we had intended on getting more information from him.” Fury shakes his head. Meanwhile, you’re reeling. There’s no way the victim was the same prisoner who assaulted you earlier. That would be a truly troubling occurrence—one you’re not quite sure you could put down to coincidence.

“Anyway… I need you to speak with Loki again.” Fury continues, his expression serious. He raises an eyebrow upon seeing the slight shock that must be showing on your face. “You seem surprised.”

You nod. “I was under the impression that our conversation didn’t go well,” you decide to respond honestly. Fury seems to appreciate the truthfulness, although his eyebrows furrow and he takes a deep breath.

There’s a beat of silence. “He’s refused to speak with anyone else we’ve sent,” Fury explains, “Since your last visit, he’s been exceptionally…Well. He asked for you specifically.”

What was Fury going to say just then? And, more importantly, did you even hear him correctly? Did Loki really ask to speak with you, even after the tense conversation you had? You’re immediately suspicious.

“Listen,” Fury breaks off, looking conflicted and resolved all at once. “For whatever reason, he’s different with you. I’m not sure why, but whatever the reason, we need to take advantage. Loki has valuable information about the attack on New York.”

“In reality, he asked for you a few days ago,” Fury continues, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. You look over to him in surprise. “I refused. But… since then, he’s been extremely disagreeable—and we’re running out of time.”

“I’ll try to speak with him,” you answer. That’s the best you can promise. You certainly can’t promise that it’ll be a productive conversation, or that you’ll get any information from him. Indeed, the last discussion you had with Loki, it felt as if you were disclosing more information than he was. Still, the prospect seems to be good enough for Fury.

“Thank you, Agent,” he nods, returning the keycard that grants access to the high security area. You take a deep breath and follow him back to his car, steeling your nerves as the city buildings pass before your vision. Once you reach the headquarters, you walk down the halls and head to the elevators. Fury and you part ways as he gets off the elevator, and he leaves you with a brief nod.

It only takes a few steps in the hallway of the high-security cells for you to notice that something’s missing. A cell is empty—the same one that Miggs had occupied before. You feel dread coiling in your chest, yet you can’t stop yourself from taking a step closer and getting a better look at the empty cell. There’s blood splattered all across the ground—although it appears as if someone tried to clean it, since it bears a closer resemblance to dark brown than red. The sheets of the mattress are clean and the cell looks entirely untouched, save for the stains across the floor and the noticeable chunk missing from the toilet.

Your attention is captured by the cell—so much so that you forget your company. “Ah, what a pleasant surprise,” Loki remarks, sending your heart racing as you remember his presence. You take a deep breath and tear your eyes away from the evidence of Miggs’s death. As you break the distance between Loki’s enclosure and you, you can’t help but shake the feeling that he had something to do with the death of Miggs. You don’t have any proof, but the awful feeling stirring in your gut certainly makes you question what you thought you knew.

Loki clears his throat pointedly and you remember yourself. “You asked for me,” you then answer cautiously.

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if Fury would oblige,” Loki drawls, regarding you with mild amusement. You’re not sure what he thinks is entertaining, so you just pretend not to have noticed his smug grin. “He doesn’t seem to care for me much.”

“I’d argue most of us don’t,” you hear yourself blurt out. You really need a better filter, especially in a conversation as important as this one. If you want information from Loki, you’ll have to be nicer to him. Despite that thought, Loki is staring at you with the same amusement as before. There’s no sense that the insult even registered.

“And yourself?” The god asks, once again reminding you that you’re the one at the mercy of the conversation. You grit your teeth and try to remain calm, despite the overwhelming feelings of inadequacy that threaten to send you down the hall.

“What about me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said most of us,” Loki says, “Does that include you?”

You don’t bother to dignify that question with a response. “What do you want?” He doesn’t respond and you resist the urge to exhibit any signs of your growing impatience. “You asked to speak with me—I’m assuming you want something.”

“I have information you want,” Loki states, his eyes boring into yours and sending a prickling sensation down your skin. His intense gaze is unnerving, and you feel as if you’re being intensely scrutinized. “You have information I want. I propose a trade.”

You’re not surprised by the remark, save for the idea that you have something he wants. “I’m not quite sure what information I could give you,” you frown, shifting your balance slightly to keep your body occupied. You cross your arms over your chest and pretend you don’t feel entirely vulnerable in front of Loki.

“I’ll be the one to determine that,” the god says. His next statement is entirely unexpected. “Now, tell me about yourself, your childhood.”

“What?” You choke out. “About myself? I don’t see how that’s relevant.” You break off. Loki’s gaze is focused on you with burning intensity. You take a shuddering breath in and try to summon some information that isn’t dangerous for you to disclose. “I’m a criminal investigator—have been for years. I’m from around here, grew up here.” You end up settling for a mix of ambiguity and omission. Loki seems to pick up on it regardless.

“Don’t lie to me.” His gaze is dark and dangerous. It suddenly feels as if the temperature dropped in the space around you. You’re pinned under the god’s watchful eyes. “I think I deserve more than that, don’t you?” You can’t find the words to answer. You have, once again, severely underestimated Loki’s capabilities.

“Very well, then,” Loki murmurs some time later, after it’s clear that you’re unwilling to give him more information. His posture is effortlessly casual, but you know it’s just a façade. “I can start for you. You worked as a criminal investigator for years in your hometown, until you decided to become an FBI agent. With more responsibility came more criminals, and closer calls. Even so, you began to gain notoriety for your cases. Your name appears in more and more press coverage. Meanwhile, Nick Fury grows increasingly frustrated with me, with the lack of information. He sees you on the morning news and finds his perfect solution. He calls you here to New York, tells you that he needs you for this pivotal role. An exaggeration, of course.”

“You agree with his offer—surely, you don’t have any other choice. Meanwhile, Fury promptly forgets your existence, until he needs you once more. A tool in a toolbox is all you are to him. Why else would he send you to me? He doesn’t have faith in your abilities, Agent—he just needs bait.”

You know it’s true, but it still hurts. Truthfully, you had suspected the same thing; something about the Norse god speaking on your thoughts cements them in reality. Indeed, why else would Fury have called you in? There are plenty of high-ranking officials that would’ve been better suited for such a task.

“You come in here and provoke me,” Loki continues, as if you aren’t even there. He seems entirely in his element as he paces about his cell. “I attack you, then break out of captivity. A group of agents lurks outside to interrupt my eventual escape. The whole thing is laughably predictable, really.” Your eyes widen as you realize just why the security guard lingered outside the door. They aren’t guarding the door—it’s secure enough on its own. They’re guarding you, waiting for you to fail and for Loki to escape. The thought sends a shiver down your spine.

“And, of course, you have a visceral desire for Fury’s approval,” he continues, repeating what you said to him mere days ago. You feel as if a bucket of ice cold water was just dumped all over you, making you shiver and question everything you thought you knew. Are you really so formulaic? Have you been lured into a false sense of confidence these past few years? You try to grapple with these questions, while the god stares at you. “Am I ‘in the ballpark,’ as you mortals say?” There’s a sharp grin on Loki’s face that deeply unsettles you.

It takes you several moments to collect your composure and find the words to say. “I think you know you are,” you respond, ignoring your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s unnerving that Loki could glean that much about you in such a short time span. Despite his obvious attempt at mockery, you know that you need to answer his questions if you want information. You keep silent and wait for Loki to continue.

“Now, you still haven’t given me anything,” Loki reminds you, dispelling any hope that he may have forgotten. You feel extremely restless and steadily avoid his gaze, even when you feel his eyes practically tearing holes through your form. “So, I ask once more: what was your childhood like?”

You can’t afford to argue this time—not if you want information. The glint in Loki’s eyes grows brighter with each tidbit you give him. At his request, you tell him about your past—everything from your childhood home to the relationships you have with your family. Time becomes fickle and you don’t realize you’re oversharing until you glance down at your watch and see that far too much time has passed. “That’s more than enough,” you interject some time later. You don’t feel as if you can truly grasp the severity of your actions just now. Even so, you know that you’ve given him too much ammunition. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache developing. “It’s your turn.”

“Very well,” Loki responds, his lips parting to reveal a crooked smirk. The expression on his face confirms your suspicions that he was planning on continuing the conversation until you stopped him. “I will answer two of your questions.” You feel your heart drop.

“Two?” You exclaim in disbelief, “You must’ve asked me a hundred just now-”

“I didn’t force you to answer any of my questions,” Loki reasons. Unfortunately, he’s correct in that regard—you should’ve been more wary. You let your guard down and he was content to take advantage of it. “Now, do you want information or not?”

You grit your teeth. Damn it. Two questions is a very insignificant number. You try to remember what Fury told you mere minutes before. “He’s been extremely disagreeable… and we’re running out of time.” You can’t afford to slip up here.

“Fine,” you say. The look on Loki’s face doesn’t change, but you can still sense arrogance radiating off of him. “Why?” You decide to ask.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Loki drawls, continuing to pace about. He looks completely and utterly bored. “Why does one do anything?” You resist an eye roll.

“Why did you do it?” You rephrase. You don’t need to specify for Loki to understand what you’re referring to: the attack on New York, the Chitauri invasion. Surely, knowing his motivations would help S.H.I.E.L.D. prevent instances like it from happening in the future. Besides, you’re not sure what else to ask. As has been established, you don’t think you’re the best fit for this task of vital importance.

“I was seeking revenge,” Loki answers without hesitation. His unblinking gaze is beginning to unnerve you. “Is that what you’d like me to say?”

“I’d like you to tell the truth,” you assert, unable to hide some of your irritation. The god picks up on it and smiles infuriatingly, as if your annoyance is entertaining. Perhaps it is entertaining to him. You take a deep breath and remind yourself to keep calm. It would do you no good to get riled up. You have one job: collecting information.

“The truth,” Loki remarks languidly, tearing you from your thoughts. His answer comes without hesitation. “I was bored.” Boredom. Boredom pushed him to wreak havoc on the city, causing hundreds of casualties and inordinate bloodshed. Loki was motivated by a lack of fulfillment. The thought is extremely disconcerting. On the one hand, you’re not sure what you were expecting. On the other, you had been looking for a more clear-cut, legitimate reason to contextualize his actions. You weren’t planning on excusing his crimes, but if he provided something that seemed to somewhat justify his reaction, you would’ve been able to get more information and also deduce a clear motive to these kinds of attacks. Perhaps that was your error in thinking, though: Loki can’t be a predictor of a pattern. He is wildly unpredictable, and trying to predict him will both waste your time and result in more frustration.

“One more question,” Loki reminds you tauntingly. You grit your teeth, pushing past your irritation. The god seems to enjoy emphasizing the differences between you and him—your mortality, your weakness.

You try to think a little harder. Admittedly, a particular question has been weighing on your mind throughout most of your interactions, burrowing into your subconscious and refusing to let go. After a few moments, you decide to verbalize it. “Why haven’t you escaped yet?”

The god laughs. “Haven’t I?” Loki asks in response. A shiver rolls down your spine. You watch warily as he takes one step forward, then another. From what you’ve seen, the god will often pace about his cell. However, his current movements make it seem as if he has a purpose, an endgame. Loki’s eyes flash. He takes another step forward and his foot crosses the threshold where the glass is supposed to be. Loki grins and crosses the entirety of the boundary, before looking at you with a truly malicious smile. He’s free from captivity.

You can’t even take a step backwards before the god is there, extending a hand to your temple and pressing his fingertips past your skin, into your very being. And suddenly, you’re a child again. Everything you told Loki is rushing through your head all at once. You’re trapped in vivid memories. The world around you is blurred with childlike joy and hope. Your surroundings all seem to fall away; despite your knowledge that you aren’t a child anymore, you can’t escape this onslaught of memory that Loki seemed to force on you.

When Loki removes his hand from your temple, you nearly choke on your breath. There’s an excruciating pain running through your head—strong enough to make you lose your balance. Despite the fact that you’re horribly outmatched, you still try to get away from him. You’re not sure what the God of Mischief wants, but you doubt it’s anything good. This interest—as Fury said—that he’s cultivated in you… It’s dangerous.

You should be dead right now. Surely, were you any other S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, your corpse would be slowly decaying on the ground in front of you. You heard whispers of what Loki did to some of the agents that spoke to him before you. One of them was directly admitted to a mental hospital—unable to ground themself in reality. The thought shakes you to your core.

You take another step backwards, only for him to match your retreat with a step forward. Your balance is growing more and more unsteady as you try to fight against the vertigo threatening to send you tumbling. Your vision is oscillating between painful sharpness and indiscernible blurriness. “What do you want from me?” You manage to spit out through the pained haze.

“Everything.” Loki answers. Before you can push him away, he’s bringing a hand to your temple again. Your mind explodes with energy and you feel your eyelids fluttering shut of their own accord. You try your hardest to remain conscious and you manage to catch glimpses: Loki’s hand slipping from your temple as you fall to the ground, Loki carrying you out of the building. You’re stuck in the recesses of your own mind, with no hope for escape. Eventually, you’re forced to succumb to the darkness lurking in the corners of your vision.

It may strike you all as strange that Loki stays in captivity rather than escaping, but I think I can justify that with a multitude of reasons. First of all, he's immortal—time passes differently for him. While a mortal may agonize at the thought of being trapped in a capsule for an indefinite time, Loki is entirely unbothered by it. He knows that he has the ability to escape; the question then becomes when he will escape, not if he will escape. Second, Loki has a reason to stay: the reader. He is interested in the reader [the nature of this interest is up to you]. He enjoys the conversations they have, especially when they’re under the false guise of him being trapped and in a position of need. The God of Mischief isn’t one to rush things. Anyway, that’s how I justified these choices to myself. *shrugs*

I desperately wanted to add something like this, but I couldn’t find an authentic moment for it… It may seem a little out of character, too… So I’ll throw it here and walk away:

“You should put some ointment on that,” Loki suggests, looking pointedly at the scar on your face. “Don’t Midgardians care about that sort of thing? Quite foolish, in my opinion.” “How is that foolish?” You ask. “Scars are proof of conquest,” Loki responds. “Of course,” you sigh.

#loki x reader #loki x gn reader #loki laufeyson #loki x male reader #male reader #gn reader #x male reader #nb reader #etc

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sortofanobsession · 2 years

Text

Hospital food lacks Love (911-Missing Scenes from 6x11 In Another Life)

Author's note: one of two fics that I wanted to write after last night's episode. Bobby expresses love through food often. And hospital food is meh at best. So this is what I feel would have happened. Also posting on mobile so no reason more. Sorry about that.

And it's canon now that Bobby is Buck's dad. They didn't just hint, they said it.

Buck has two sets of parents and that is awesome.

SPOILERS!

Enjoy!

Everyone had gone home. He had even somehow convinced Maddie, Bobby and Eddie he'd be fine for a few hours. The staff had brought him a tray with dinner on it and told him to eat slowly because it was one of the first meal since he had been intubated. And he assured them he would. He tries to eat it. He really did. The main issue was that this is not what he wanted to eat. It was a painful reminder that he was stuck in the hospital, eating hospital food. The blandest and boring safe food that is hospital food. He ate a bit but ultimately it wasn't appetizing at all. So he pushed it away and grabbed his phone. He debated on who to text. Maddie would probably tell him the food he was supposed to eat was that way because he had a tube shoved down his throat. They probably didn't want to overwhelm his system. Eddie might say the same thing or he might offer to sneak him in a burger or something. But the one person he knew would always make sure he had enough to eat was Bobby. Bobby always made sure Buck was okay. Even his unconscious mind knew Bobby was there for him. Cared for him. He would always appreciate Bobby being there for him. He loves Bobby like he did his own dad. Maybe even more at times. Bobby was the father figure that had been there when he needed him. His unconscious mind even brought him back from the dead when he needed him. So he sent Bobby a text.

Buck: hospital food 🤢

Bobby: that bad tonight?

Buck: im just going to eat the jello

Bobby: you really should eat something, Buck

Buck: its so boring and terrible

Bobby: did you at least try?

Buck: yes dad

Buck meant for it to come off as a sarcastic joke. Bobby didn't need to know that it felt more accurate to him. And knowing that Athena was the only voice that really broke through to him during his dream made him feel cared for. Loved. It really did feel like he had two sets of parents. Phillip and Margaret Buckley, the ones that initially brought him into this world and we're trying to reconnect with him. He could appreciate that. And the ones that helped bring him back into the world this time, the ones that love him by choice, not because of obligation, Bobby and Athena.

Bobby couldn't help but smile as he read Buck's text. Any hesitation that he might have had to sneak Buck something to eat vanished. Buck had a grip on his heart and he had for a long time. Since Bobby helped him get ready for that awful date all those years ago. Buck sat nestled in his heart alongside the kids he lost and the kids he gained when he married Athena. May was right.

Bobby: you want me to sneak you in something don’t you

Buck: Id say I’d die for it but too soon

Buck: right?

Bobby: Right

Buck: Yes sir *saluting emoji*

Bobby: I’ll make & bring you breakfast tomorrow

Buck: this is why you are the best

"What are you smiling about?" Athena asks as she joins him. Bobby just hands her his phone.

"Of course," Athena grins. "He got you with that dad text didn't you?"

"Even May says it's true," Bobby says.

"Because it is. He may have his real parents in his life, and they seem to be trying, but he knows he will always have you. And that means something."

"It does," Bobby smiles. "I'm so glad he's okay. I will make him whatever he wants if it means he'll stay that way."

"I know you will. He knows it too."

The next morning Bobby makes breakfast for his family. Omelets. Fluffy omelets that are packed full of tiny pieces of whatever any of them wanted. And he packs up one that he knew Buck would like. He packs it as best he can to keep it warm. Packed along with some other stuff he was bringing to help keep Buck from going crazy during his recovery. Some of it May and Harry insisted he would need. He headed to the hospital.

He knocked on the door before entering Buck's hospital room. The smile on Buck's face made Bobby smile.

"Morning," Buck greeted him.

"Morning, Harry and May said to tell you to feel better soon. Like soon, soon," Bobby shakes his head. "They also sent stuff to keep you sane. So here." He sets the bag of stuff on the bed. "Also breakfast is in there so there's that."

"Yes!" Buck grins. And pulls the tray table closer so he can pull everything out. He eagerly opens the container and finds the utensils. "Thanks, Bobby." He hums when he takes a bite. "I feel like I haven't had anything with flavor in ages."

"It's been less than a week, Buck," Bobby chuckles.

"And it feels way longer," Buck complains.

"You're just bored," Bobby says.

"You aren't wrong," Buck notes.

"Well I don't have a shift until tomorrow, so finish your breakfast and we can find something to do."

"Thanks Bobby, you really are the best," Buck smiles.

"Anytime, kid. Anytime."

#evan buckley #bobby nash #athena grant nash #Athena Grant #911 spoilers #non story post #bobby is buck's dad #fire dad #captain dad Bobby #spoilers #missing scenes

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thestobingirlie · 1 year

Note

i saw where someone asked about trans man steve and I wanted to add my opinion

ok so ill read almost anything with trans man steve because I'm trans masc, steve is my favourite character, and I love to project. but so much of it doesn't work in the canon setting. binders as we know them weren't really a thing especially in small towns. it wouldn't work with him being an athlete, between showers, locker rooms and him supposed to be on the swim team? and when its written with him getting medical intervention (testosterone, top surgery) during early high school, it was almost impossible to get medical intervention as an adult it would not have been given to a teenager. (if you want to learn about the experiences of a gay trans man in the 80s look up lou sullivan. he was an activist and a pioneer for the treatment and transitions of trans men. he passed in 91 but there is a lot of archive footage of him talking about his experiences, including top surgery with only local anaesthetic. my favourite quote from him is "they told me I couldn't live as a gay man, but it looks like I'm going to die like one.") he would not have been able to transition in any real way, just minor social transition, he wouldn't have been able to register at school as male unless he had forged documents, everything would have him listed as female. his id/drivers licence would have him listed as female with his deadname. and a lot of people either wouldn't be understanding, or would just flat out not accept it.

(i am trying to write a trans man steve fic where he realises that he's trans post s2, comes out to dustin and claudia because he freaks out about it while he's at their place, comes out to robin in the bathroom scene, but then doesn't come out to anyone else until post s4 at the earliest. he just dresses more masculine and cuts his hair. and he didn't date nancy he just had a crush on her. but its only trying because I have a 3k outline but only 50 words written on the actual fic. it might get written and posted one day, but who knows.)

yeah, i definitely think people are writing an idealised versions of trans steve, understandably. but, as much as i loathe modern au’s, if you want steve to be able to fully transition, the fic can’t really be set in the 80s.

even our beloved characters probably wouldn’t react that well to steve being trans, they just wouldn’t really know anything about it! some would react better than others, obviously. but not everyone would be super accepting, and that’s just too upsetting to think about.

and that sounds like a cool fic! honestly, trans masc steve is dear to my heart, even though i’ve read so few fics, so a fic that’s actually pretty accurate to the 80s would be a good read!

#steve harrington #stranger things #asks #anon

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sonicboomseason3 · 2 years

Text

some insight into the sonic boom tv series and why some certain characters werent used as much as people wouldve liked. previously, i made a post saying that only a handful of characters were approved by sega to exist in the boomverse, but judging from this interview, that wasnt entirely accurate - it was more so that the writers knew that already existing characters in the main canon were so protected that they decided it wouldve been too much of a hassle to get clearance for more than a couple of them (also i just wanna highlight that this confirms that shadow isnt the only one to have mandates unlike what some people in the fanbase seem to believe)

edit: id text / transcript under the cut now that im off mobile

[ID: Four screenshots of an interview from the website Mega Visions that reads the following:

"MV: And the finale to season 2, which sees all the major characters return against Shadow, who tries to end the universe, also had a pretty big budget. Fittingly so!

Alan: Oh, man. Writing for Shadow was a challenge in itself. SEGA did not consider him a comedy character. They told us we could use him, he could be on the show, but he was not to be making any jokes. We were like "uh, sure." So to work around that, the joke became the very fact that Shadow is completely humorless. So edgy, all the time. It was funny that he was here, having to deal with all these crazy people.

Greg: Shadow was a character that was very protected by SEGA. They were reluctant to let us use him very much, and when we did use him, he came with so many notes and restrictions that it was easier to not use him. That's why he wasn't on the show as much as fans would have wanted.

MV: So that's why he was relegated to being a once-in-a-blue-moon, 'special episode' character. Was Metal Sonic the same? He doesn't even talk, you could have used him more!

Alan: Yeah, Metal Sonic only put in the one appearance.

Greg: But we brought him back for the finale. Honestly, when characters that were existing, original-universe Sonic characters were brought in, those episodes were just too hard to write for. There were so many notes, they were such protected characters. We got to have so much more freedom with characters of our own, like Dave the Intern and the Mayor, that it was just easier. Did we want to include Big the Cat? Sure we did. But writing that would have been a huge headache, it would have had to have gone through so many layers of clearance. It would have taken ages to get approved. It wasn't worth it. Hence why there's only Shadow, Metal Sonic, and Vector the Crocodile in a handful of episodes.

Alan: Bill's design was that we should be our own island, literally, away from SEGA; to have to get as few approvals from the company as we could. That way, we could play around in the sandbox of original characters, original locations. He told us not to go into lore or backstories, just to keep it all in one place because then we could mess around all we wanted."

/End ID.]

#sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #sth #boom!shadow #shadow the hedgehog #metal sonic #.sbs3 #sonic #shadow

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tortilla-of-courage · 3 years

Note

Describing it as being like home is actually pretty accurate yeah.

And YES! I am totally willing to talk about my modern AU.

I've been calling it the Adoption AU because Time ends up adopting all of the boys. It mostly started as, I saw an edit for a tweet someone did with Wars and Wild that involved Taco Bell (cannot remember the blog or post for the life of me though), and so I wrote a thing about Warriors sneaking out of his university dorm to pick up Wild, who snuck out the window despite his broken arm, and then got extorted by Legend in exchange for silence at 3am.

This was followed by a fic where Groose decided spray painting a public building was a good idea and got himself and Sky arrested, set earlier in the timeline.

So then I made a timeline. Twilight is Time and Malon's biological son, and he found Wild on the side of the road one day (Wild's backstory involves a bad car wreck and an underground hospital, but no conspiracy bullshit. Yet). Wild has no memory, so they keep him. Wild brings home Legend, who was told his uncle died at school before a holiday. They then also keep Legend. Malon finds Four in her barn one morning for complicated reasons, and they keep him too. Twilight finds Warriors, who is in his class, hiding in an alley one day after he ran away from an abusive home and brings him home too. SS Impa (who I've nicknamed Shield because there are enough prominent Impas here that they should get nicknames too) is a social worker who's trying to find Sky a home and has run out of options, and turns to Time, who has a record of successfully housing 'unhousable' youths, and asks if he can take one more. He can. Wild finds Hyrule and brings him home because 'Rule needs a shower even more than Wild does. Hyrule stays. Wind's grandma ends up with Wind and his sister but can't financially take care of both and so Wind ends up with the boys and everyone is +1 Grandma.

Twilight has a fic detailing how he knows Midna and Dusk and I ended up shooting him (oops) but at least their social project gets handed in on time.

Then I started hashing out Time's backstory and suddenly this AU had plot. And organized crime. And a conspiracy. And secret societies.

The summarized version is that the gems from OoT are like, Idk what they do yet. Haven't gotten to a point where I need to figure that out yet. But they are Important and have to be carefully guarded. The Great Deku Tree (just called Deku because he's not a tree here) was Time's foster father before Ganondorf killed him. Also, Ganondorf is Deku's half brother. Because. However Time 'stole' the Emerald and he and Navi ran until OoT Impa (Sage) and Lullaby found them. So Time got adopted into Lullaby's family. Ruto inherited the Sapphire from her mother who also died from mysterious circumstances, and Darunia has the Ruby. Lullaby got the Ocarina from her late paternal grandmother.

Then Ganon finds them and tries to steal the Emerald from Time, so Lullaby goes looking for help and thus finds the sages. Saria is an anonymous hacker who uses the screen name 'Kokiri'. Time reveals he didn't steal the Emerald, he was Deku's heir, and then Navi goes missing. Time is home worried enough that he's physically sick, and Ganon decides to try and attack the home. Only Lullaby's family is Olde Money, and they live in a big, old manor, so Lullaby as Sheik decides to play 'Home Alone' with the secret passages in the walls and they piss off Ganon because when did that brat get a sheikah bodyguard??? Sage and Rottla (Lullaby's mother, who is fully sheikah as well) rush home from a thing and Kokiri is running a play by play watching the security cameras.

I pull in my headcanon that Time was killed in the Downfall Timeline by getting impaled on Ganon's tusk and Ganondorf stabs him with the tusk of a mounted boar head and then Sheik shows up to protect his brother, and then Mama gets home and is not happy to find this man in her home attacking her kids. Time is fine, but Navi stays missing. (She's alive tho.)

Also, Time's foster dad was the last leader of a secret society known as The Order of The Lost Woods, and Time learns this upon meeting Tatl, who gets him sucked into another event that would probably make a good action movie. I have thought too much about the Order and it's hierarchy, but what's important here is that Time ends up with a standing job offer and Tatl and he remain friends and we find out how I fit FD into this AU. It's not pretty. This is where Time loses his eye too.

The AoC came out and I added that Link in as Wild's twin brother and he shows up during the main plot.

Which starts with Twi getting kidnapped. (I'm not really meaner to him than the others, I swear, he's just the most logical choice to be Time's heir. Which he is. He doesn't know this though.)

So he's kidnapped by Ganondorf, who broke out of jail, Zant, who shot Twi in highschool, and Ghirahim, who has some history with Sky I haven't fleshed out yet and a very public rivalry with Warriors over twitter. About six weeks later Sage finds him in an abandoned warehouse (because of course) with a shackle on his left arm and a lot of new injuries. He ends up fine, but he tells Time later in the hospital what happened and he's both message and messenger and Time is this close to just committing murder. Tatl talks him down.

Somewhere here is the half finished fic where I introduce AoC Link as Luke/Knight, and this is as far as I've plotted thus far.

Other tidbits: Wild and Lullaby/Sheik are both genderfluid, Lullaby/Sheik married Ruto, Wild has a very popular YouTube channel, Twi does drag racing sometimes, Sky has a pet bird, Four has DID to explain how the Colours are here too, and Wolfie exists in the form of a random wolf-dog Wild found and brought home that Legend somehow convinced half the family was Twilight. Also, Warriors has somehow befriended an entire sorority and he doesn't know how this happened.

This... got long. As you can see I have a lot of thoughts about the Adoption AU. It's gotten a bit away from me, I'll admit. This went from 'Wild does stunts on his motorbike and keeps breaking bones but somehow not the bike' to 'Twilight got kidnapped and Time is the target of a mafia that Ganon runs and also maybe killed a man once' and I don't know how that happened. Also, this is the condensed version of the summary. My actual summary/outline is much, much longer than this. So if there's any detail you want more on, feel free to say so and I'll happily go into more detail (there are so many things I didn't even mention....)

And yes, Robbie having a bong is very important to my best friend, for some reason. He has one in a modern AU and he probably invented one in canon. I happen to agree that this makes sense for his character, if anyone would invent a bong in LoZ it's Robbie (this is such an anticlimactic end to this ask after the stuff about the modern AU...)

Also, sorry for the long ass ask. I genuinely don't know how to condense the Adoption Au down any further. There's a lot of important plot beats to cover, and I still skipped things.

-Attllhak

oh my GOD???? if you ever write and post this somewhere id love to read it, the level of "crazy" conspiracy/action movie elements implemented sound sosososo cool, from Ganondorf being Deku's half brother to trying to "send a message" via Twi and- just- all of this is SO good.i sat here and reread this ask like 3 times as if that would magically spawn more info about it ahaha

there's so much to unpack here but it's honestly so worth it i love every single detail!!! i can imagine the actual outline being way longer, nad honestly that just makes me the more excited/curious about all that might be missing from this ask - i cant believe it started with Wild and Wars going to Taco Bell of all things

also i can totally see Robbie making a bong, no matter the setting or AU. fits him a lot I'd say

and dont worry about long asks!! i adore opening up my askbox to see one ask take over the entire thing, it makes me really happy aha

#attllhak #im once again rendered speechless (in a good way) by your creative mind attllhak #tortilla asks #long post #linked universe #ask to tag #injury mention

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ellaenchanting · 5 years

Text

Hypnovember 2019 Master List

Jesus. Jesus Christ, that’s a lot of writing. I don’t really consider myself a writer generally and this is definitely the first time I’ve written this much this quickly. I’m going to look at my word count soon, but- I think I may have written a novel’s length of words? Wow.Thanks to everyone who encouraged me during this or provided support/ideas: thinking of @daja-the-hypnokitten , @liminal-wanderings , @mr-ackerman , @spiralturquoise , @wellgnawed , @sex-obsessed-lesbian , and @hypno-sandwich especially here but there were lots of y’all who reblogged or made kind comments. I appreciate every one of them. :)

Here’s a catch up of everything I’ve written so far this month. In honor of @jukeboxemcsa, I’ve also included a HypnoBS rating where 1 is absolute bullshit and 5 is normal Tuesday night.

Icons- 📰- story. 🔊- audio ��- technology 😍- romantic 🌈- queer 😴- regular ole’ hypnosis 🛀- brainwashing and/or hypnotist in a tub 👻- spooky 🐈- at least one happy pussy ❓- bad or reeeally questionable consent ✝️- author's weird religious feels that somehow kept coming up

Day 1: Base Character-F/f 📰😍🌈🛀🐈

Choice quote: ”Or maybe it was the ship of Theseus- Janine seeing how many little pieces of her she could replace until she fundamentally just wasn’t the same person anymore.”

HypnoBS- I haven’t done this kind of play and have no first hand experience. Let’s say 3.

Newly added 11/18: @undersleeper requested some extra information on how the brainwashing was actually done in this story so I added this non-canon sequel. (I think the sequel boosts the BS score to a 4.)

Day 2: Colors- F/nb 📰😴 🌈

Choice quote: “Bri used to consider themselves a bad hypnotic subject.”

HypnoBS- 4. I haven’t done this induction specifically but love doing these kinds of overloads

Day 3: Dizzy- no gender specified🔊😴

Choice quote: “When you take deep breaths, you feel like you’re getting more oxygen, but actually the opposite is true.”

HypnoBS-5. Should get you in trance, we’re not ranking the accuracy of all the science herein.

Day 4: Sing- m/f kinda I guess? 📰👻❓

Choice quote: “Tonight wasn’t the night to give in, he told himself. Not yet.”

HypnoBS- 1. Thank God.

Day 5: Poison- M/f 📰😍🛀🐈

Choice quote: “Lila could admit it. She was kind of a brat.But Sean? He was worse. He was a fucking troll.“

HypnoBS- 4? Haven’t done it, could probably make something in this realm work with the right person.

Day 6: Summon- F/f 📰😍😴🌈🐈

Choice quote: “Number one, there is no butch street cred. And number two- if there was such a thing, you and I both know that being seduced by a beautiful woman would only increase it.”

HypnoBS- 3 or 4. It’s quick and there would need to be a lot more talking generally. But sure.

Day 7: Underwear- F/f 📰😴🌈

Choice quote: “Under….where”, Destiny tested the word out loud. It sounded like a portmanteau of some sort. She understood the word “under” and the word “where” (or “wear”? “where are” maybe? maybe it was German?) but those two words together didn’t form much of a picture.”

HypnoBS- 5. Although have only done this as a hypnotist so I can’t speak to subject POV. This kind of thing is adorable to watch, though.

Day 8: Neighbor- F/f📰😍🌈 ❓

Choice quote: “When Jiyeon tapped her pencil, Alyssa tapped her pencil lightly to match.”

HypnoBS- 1. Maybe 1.5 since there are no monsters or demons.

Day 9: Idiotic- no gender specified📰😴

Choice quote: “Because Id-iotic. It’s literally what you want deep down”

HypnoBS-4. Not my thing but with the right people- sure.

Day 10: Smell- F/m 📰😴😍🛀🐈

Choice quote: “Belinda had also woken up from sexy dreams at night to the feeling of Ray’s head buried in her cunt.”

HypnoBS- 3 on the details. Some parts are more plausible than others. We’re outside my realm of experience here so others could probably rank more accurately.

Day 11: Broadcast- Hypnovirus/f 📰💻🛀✝️

Choice quote: “It felt important to present herself to the screen in a way that demonstrated her vulnerability and openness to instruction.”

HypnoBS- 4. Probably not likely, but I could see this kind of symbolic bleed with the right person pretty easily.

Day 12: Stage- M/m 📰😍🌈😴

Choice quote: “Brandon had not mentioned the hypnosis thing to Scott- it felt weird and personal and he had already half-convinced himself that he was being creepy in response to Scott’s platonic friendliness. He didn’t want to scare him off. He had never expected to see him here.”

HypnoBS- 5. At least as far as the hypnosis goes

Day 13: Bath- no gender specified 🔊🛀😴

Choice quote: *insert rambling about Pat Collins here*

HypnoBS- 5. But also a high general BS score. I was tired and needed to finish a thing. I am surprised but grateful people liked this one. :P

Day 14: Machine- M/f 📰😴💻😍✝️

Choice quote: “For as long as she could remember, Deidre had longed for self-annhilation.”

HypnoBS- 1. That’s not how brains work.

Day 15: Ooze- there’s a m and a f 📰😴🛀❓

Choice quote: “For example, your badge- did you know that putting all the stickers on the top of your badge like that usually means that you’re a hypnotist?”

Amy’s eyes widened a bit. “It does?”

HypnoBS- 2. Sadly.

Day 16: Wedding- something/f 📰👻❓

Choice quote: “She knew then that she was alone. No one could help her. No one could even see her.”

HypnoBS- 1.

Day 17: Gentle- a different something/f 📰 kinda 🐈❓✝️

Choice quote: “As long as she didn’t focus on it, it would write the story for her.”

HypnoBS- 1. I think. :P

Day 18: Infection- not stated/m 📰 🛀❓

Choice quote: “If he could just get the song out of his head, maybe he’d have a chance.”

HypnoBS- 2.

Day 19: Hideout- F/f 📰 🐈 😍😴🛀🌈

Choice quote: “’Come to me, pet. Come to me.’

Mesmera.

She could always sense when Galaxy Girl was weak. She consistently picked the perfect time to strike.

And now, she had found her apartment.”

HypnoBS-4.5

Day 20: Watch- no gender specified 🔊 😴

Choice quote: “Feel your thoughts just tick tick tick tick ticking gone”

HypnoBS-5

Day 21: Fighting- F/m 📰 😴

Choice quote: “His mistress loved resistance play. She delighted in watching him struggle and strain against an irresistible impulse.”

HypnoBS-5 Mmmm :)

Day 22: Mistaken- F/an entire hypnocon 📰 😴

Choice quote: “Ginger- submissive, wide-eyed, bottomy Ginger- was holding a crowd of 8 people in her hypnotic thrall. Some had their eyes closed already, while others were staring at her with the rapt look of early trance.“

HypnoBS- 4. But only because I haven't seen it yet. :P

Day 23: Heist- F/m 📰 🛀❓(😍 but it’s pretty messed up)

Choice quote: “The inside of the vault had gotten somewhat sparse-looking- David had been cleaning out the bank out at a much quicker pace recently- but there were still plenty of treasures here to bring to his mistress.”

HypnoBS- 3, maybe 2

Day 24: Business F/f 📰 😴😍🌈

Choice quote: “Summer was a well-mannered southern girl at heart. She knew that if something was none of her business, it was impolite and rude to know it. Best not to think about it too much. She didn’t want to be nosey.”

HypnoBS- 4

Day 25: Babble F/m📰 😴 🛀 (💻 kinda)

Choice quote: “You can feel your access to language lessening….and lessening. Feeling those parts of your brain losing blood, quieting, going to sleep. Imagine what that might look like on the fMRI- the color draining, darkening, going black. Your ability to use language can be almost completely gone.”

HypnoBS- 5 (Neuroscience BS- closer to 3)

Day 26: Enemy M/f 📰 😴😍🐈

Choice quote: “When she was denied for long periods of time, everything became sexual.”

HypnoBS- 5. Unf.

Day 27: Confidence F/m 📰 😴❓

Choice quote: “Dr Eleanor had been recommended to Richard by his friend Jon who had seen her previously. “She won’t bullshit you,” he had said, “she just gets right to the roots of your issues and helps you solve them.” He must have known what he was talking about- a year after visiting Dr Eleanor, Jon had recently married a wonderful woman. He was also running marathons and succeeding professionally. There were worse people to listen to, Richard thought.”

HypnoBS- 3 (although this kind of gaslighting is real and can be effective)

Day 28: Abduction F/f M/f background m/m 📰 😴😍🌈

Choice quote: “’And so she….’ Lilliana stopped. She stared for a moment in surprise at the space between Cirie’s fingers. Cirie looked like she was holding a small, invisible ball. Liliana tried to recall her train of thought (something about work?) but found herself strangely blank.

She looked at Cirie in astonishment.

‘You took it!’ she accused.”

HypnoBS- 5

Day 29: Doctor Doctor/Master (from Dr Who) 📰 😴🌈💻

Choice quote: “The doors in the Master’s mind all appeared to be open. The Doctor quickly scanned for malicious intent but-

Oh.

Oh my.

So that’s why.”

HypnoBS- I...uh...1?

Day 30: Kink The author/her self-indulgent whims 📰 🌈

Choice quote: “Ultimately, she really just liked her friends- and she especially loved hearing all of their stories.”

HypnoBS- Cake. Imma eat a cake.

Thank you all for reading these! I know this is a long post, but I’d really appreciate reblogs of it. If you’ve liked my stories, please consider leaving me a tip on Ko-fi! Also I’d be happy to give extra information on any of the characters or a bit of what happens next if you want to send me an ask about any of these stories. I’m finding myself with a strange craving to write. Funny how that works. :P

#hypnovember #hypnovember master post #me/my sense of accomplishment #thank you all again for reading!#my writing

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simmonsofshield · 4 years

Text

Broken, Mended Chapter 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppelganger?

Words: 1800+

Warnings: Takes place in a hospital, but no medical jargon/scenes or anything.

A/N: Starting this chapter, we veer from canon. Or at least there’s no Raft situation. I don’t really know how I would place this parallel to canon, so I’m just not gonna think about it. This is for @ussgallifreyfics 550 follower writing challenge! Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is all too familiar. Sam thinks back to when he was sitting in this same exact spot - next to a bed - two years ago when he was waiting for Steve to wake up.

Doctor Rush comes in and he stands. He looks over at his friend’s body as her chest rises and falls steadily with the beeps of the monitor.

“Her most recent tests have come back. At this point it’s too hard to tell when or even if she’ll wake up. She fell from quite a height and a lot of damage was done.”

“Do you have any kind of estimate?”

“Nothing accurate. If she wakes up the earliest it would happen is maybe three weeks.”

He slumps back into the chair, “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Does she have any family we can contact?”

He shakes his head, “Only a four year old daughter. She’s staying with a friend and I don’t want to worry the mother quite yet.”

“Okay. I’ll come back with any updates. You’re free to stay until visiting hours are over.”

“Thanks.”

Hours pass but Sam doesn’t even notice. He alternates between sitting beside Y/N, holding her hand and talking to her, and pacing the room. He tries to distract himself by reading the newspaper or looking at his phone, but it doesn’t work. He only can for a couple minutes at a time. Then he’s back at her side.

He blames himself. Even though he doesn’t know why or how she was there. He does know that her wing pack malfunctioned because Vision was aiming for him. Now Rosemary may have to grow up without either of her parents, be put into foster care. And it’s all his fault.

Six weeks later

He wakes up to his phone ringing. Telemarketer or not, what kind of person has the audacity to call him at - he rolls over and looks at the clock - 2:45 in the morning? He throws his arm over to the side table and picks up his phone. About to silence it, he squints at the caller id and almost drops it as he struggles to answer it. It’s from the hospital.

“Hello?”

“Is this Samuel Wilson?”

“Yes.”

“We have a patient here, Y/N L/N, she’s asking for you. This name is also written down as her next of kin. I’m assuming that’s you as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great! Come down if you can. Sorry to call you at this hour.”

“No problem. Thank you. I’ll head your way.”

He quickly puts on some sweatpants and a tee shirt and tapes a note to his door in the Compound before heading to the elevator. The nurse’s tone wasn’t bad in any way, especially considering that Y/N has been comatose for about six weeks, but it wasn’t objectively good either, and that worries him.

Walking through the kitchen he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the refrigerator close.

“Holy shit.” he turns to see the culprit, “what are you doing up Steve?”

He holds up a glass, “Water. You?”

“Y/N’s awake.”

He smiles, “That’s great!”

Sam smiles softly then jerks his head toward the elevator, “Wanna come with? I could use someone. The nurse said she’s been asking for me, but considering the damage that was done, who knows what she’s gonna be like?”

“Of course, Sam.”

When they arrive at her room, Sam takes a moment and looks at her from outside. She’s smiling, probably having just made a joke with the nurse tending to her. It makes him smile.

Before he can go in, the doctor catches him. “Ah, Mr. Wilson. It’s nice to see you back here.”

He shakes his hand, “Dr. Rush. How’s she been?”

“It was touch and go for a couple weeks, but she made it through. She’s a fighter.”

“That she is.”

“However, now that she’s awake, we have run into a couple complications.”

His breath hitches, “What kind of complications?”

“Considering her fall, we knew there would be some sort of brain damage, but we didn’t know how severe until she woke up.” Sam nods as he continues, “We’re still unsure of the full severity, but it seems that her memories are a little scattered. What’s good is that she seems to remember you.”

“Yeah, we were in the Air Force together for a couple years.”

“Good, well, thank you for your service. For now, I would recommend that your friend here wait outside while you go in. We don’t want to confuse her.”

He looks over at Steve and nods, “Of course. Thank you Dr. Rush.” They shake hands again and he heads into her room.

Hearing his footsteps she turns and smiles at him, “Sam!” she tries to sit up but a small ow comes out of her mouth and she lays back down. “What happened?”

That was a loaded question. How was he supposed to explain what actually happened if she wasn’t fully coherent? He tries his best, getting to the point as quick as possible, “You were shot down. You tried to get your parachute out in time but didn’t. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Oh,” is all she says. She begins looking around, “Where’s Rose- what’s Ransom doing outside?”

Sam’s eyes go wide at the question as he turns around to see Steve standing across the hallway chatting up some nurse who apparently had just offered him some coffee given the plastic cup now in his hand. Seeing Sam looking at him, he takes it as the okay to come in. Before Sam can shake his head or say anything to Steve, he speaks. “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?”

Instead of answering the question, her eyes focus on the cup in his hand, “I don’t remember you being a coffee drinker, Ransom.”

“Ransom?” Steve turns to Sam with a little bit of fear and concern in his eyes, unsure of what to do. Sam looks back at him with close to the same expression. It’s silent for just a couple seconds too long.

“Sammy?” she looks at him, also confused, “is everything alright?”

Always quick on his feet, he give her his signature gap-toothed smile, “Yeah, Y/N. The doctor, Dr. Rush, just said that your memories may be a little scattered. He wasn’t sure if you’d remember - uh, Ransom here,” he claps Steve on the shoulder, “he wanted me to talk with you alone first. Apparently I made quite the impression, because I was the first person you asked for when you woke up.”

She laughs as good as she can considering the pain she’s in, “You always make an impression Sammy.”

He smiles back at her. “How are you feeling? You want water or anything?”

“Well, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. But I’m good for now, thanks.”

He nods, “I’m gonna take Ransom outside for a second and chat with him. We’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

The two walk out and go down the hall a little bit until they know they’re out of earshot of Y/N. They sit in a couple chairs across from an empty room and look at each other.

“Shit,” Sam looks down at the floor while Steve takes a sip of the coffee in his hand. “we gotta think of our next move. She has no idea who you are.”

“We could start with telling me who Ransom is?”

“Right,” Sam pauses while he contemplates, head bobbing while he goes back and forth in his mind.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just..she told me specifically not to tell you.”

“Why-” “But I feel like this is a situation that would cancel that out. At this point, you need to know some things...” Steve sits silently while Sam fights with himself. A few more seconds pass before he makes his decision. “Okay, so the short version is that you look like him.”

“Like Ransom?”

“Almost exactly. Real Black Mirror shit.” Steve raises an eyebrow, to which Sam waves off, “it’s a show.”

“Okay,” Steve shakes his head, “and the long version?”

Sam shrugs, “She hasn’t even told me it. But what I do know is that some shit went down, he got arrested, and she broke up with him. They were engaged.”

“Shit,” he runs his hand through his hair, “and she thinks I’m him.”

“Well, she’s only said like five words to you but it seems like maybe she doesn’t remember leaving him. She might think they’re still engaged...” he sighs and shakes his head, “which I don’t know if that makes this easier or harder for us.”

“Maybe you should start by asking her what she remembers.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s a good idea.” The pair walk back and Sam enters the room while Steve waits outside in a chair across the hall.

Her head turns at the sound of the door sliding open. “Get everything sorted out?”

He nods as he pulls up a chair beside her. “Yeah, a little. Can you tell me what you remember? You know, since Dr. Rush said that the injuries you endured have caused you to be a little fuzzy...” he trailed off, hoping she’ll take the excuse.

She nods, closing her eyes to help focus. “Um...well, what I know for sure because the nurses ask me like two or three times a day is that it’s June 2016, I’m at MidHudson Regional Hospital in New York, Matthew Ellis is the president, and my name is Y/N L/N,” they both laugh as she continues, “I’m assuming that’s not what you want though. So, I know that you’re Sam Wilson, we were both in the Air Force - that’s how we met - and we both participated in Falcon missions. I have a daughter named Rosemary. I live in Boston with Ransom, we’ve been engaged for three years.”

Sam smiles as she talks, but it fades when she mentions Ransom. How was he going to break all of this to her? And apparently she didn’t remember the fight in Berlin at all or why she even was in the hospital, besides what he told her.

Y/N notices the change in expression, her brows furrowing together, “Are you sure everything’s alright, Sammy? Where’s Ro?”

He gives a tight-lipped smile as he tries to go through all the plans in his head, “Yeah, yeah, just fine. She’s at a friend’s house. Would you like me to call the mother and bring her here?” she nods and closes her eyes for a moment, “okay, I’ll do that right now. Be right back.” he says softly as he exits the room.

Considering it’s around 5:00 in the morning, Sam is not surprised that Julie doesn’t answer. He leaves a message about Y/N being awake and meeting halfway in Philly later in the day to pick up Rosemary. He walks back into the room to see her peacefully sleeping. He smiles and leaves a note on the side table, letting the nurse know about it so someone could give it to her when she wakes up. He thanks them and him and Steve head back to the compound.

tags:

@cake-writes @supraveng @vxidnik @kallafrench @itsallyscorner @polarcrystall @eliza5616 @ilovesupersoldiers @ashwarren32 @itsgonnabe-brian-may

#gallifreys500 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #sam wilson x reader #avengers x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america #MCU fanfiction #mcu ff #marvel fanfiction #marvel ff #marvel #MCU

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cookinguptales · 2 years

Note

I totally get your hang ups with writing and wanting it to be "accurate", but as a fan, I'm DROOLING to get my hands on those s3 inspired fics. People will absolutely read them and love them! Hell, there are so many s1 and s2 ideas left unexplored, id take any timeline. As a reader and fan, if the tag says it breaks canon after *event here*, I'm like okay, werk, I'm in, let's go! If anything, having had time between when a season aired and the posted fic helps to put characterization and actions in context and sometimes makes a more thoughtful fic. People go back and re-read old fic all the time and just accept it when new canon might differ a bit bc we all just want to be told a good story. I hope you feel encouraged to post and find your own joy in it, bc it means so much to ppl! It may be silly vampire stuff, but a good fanfic can absolutely give me a reason to get through the day. It means something!

Right, like... I guess the thing is, it's much harder for me to write for a canon I actually love because I feel this need to "honor" it, y'know? Most of the time when I get really into writing something, it's a canon that I feel fairly cavalier about so I don't mind if I throw out canon and get kind of creative. But damn, I love wwdits. It's one reason why I never wrote for it for so long. I didn't feel like I could add anything to what was already my favorite show on television.

s3 changed that because what I can add is LONGING but it has meant that I do a lot more canon review and try extra hard to make things "fit" with canon because... I don't really want to flout it! But I guess things have been complicated by lack of time and I'll admit somewhat shakier faith in the writers going forward.

This is why I usually don't write for things between seasons! lmao

I guess I just have to get in the mindset that I can write bizarre shit more often, even for a show that I love. This past 5+1 fic was kind of freeing at first because I was like "I'm just gonna write something fun and breezy and dumb" but then, as always, emotions happened... RIP. I am extremely predictable in that respect, lmao. I'm just too many words and too many emotions all the way down hahaha.

I'm trying to just let go and have more fun with it haha. It's dumb, I know, to feel such intense loyalty to the canon of a show that is so innately fun and silly. But I do! I want to write stuff that slides in seamlessly with the weird, funny, silly shit that I already love!

but I already know that I can't really replicate the vibes of the show (alas, I am just not funny enough and way too obsessed with Emotional Turmoil) so I should probably just do whatever I want haha.

#why is it more stressful to write for a canon I love??#replies #wwdits tag

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punkcherries · 7 years

Text

get ready to rrrrrumble

jesus christ this is a long ass submission so uh puts it in a read more also puts my txt in bold so its easier to read 👍

Right, so I’ve just read everything that happened in the last few asks you got and I’m just gonna sit down and tell you this right now. You better strap the fuck in because this is long and if you’re not gonna read it, shame on you, because all of this is specifically about YOU and the problems people have with you (the people Blu mentioned). First off, I’m not Blu, so don’t go and start calling him names in your server because you’re finally, FINALLY, being called out on all the bullshit you do. I used to be your friend, I left on semi-good terms, and this entire thing is going to explain WHY I left + why you need to square the fuck up.

sounds like fun whoever u are

You need to get your shit together and seriously change yourself, but of course you’re not gonna do that, because you’re an incompetent piece of shit who has your head so far up your ass you can’t see all the things you do wrong. You act like you’re the person who suffers the most, and that anytime anyone is rude to you it’s THEIR fault, not the fact that you did something terrible to someone or that you started some drama. I’ve been fed up with this shit for months, and have been hesitant to say anything directly to your face, because you don’t even know me that well and we hardly talked. We did interact a few times, but those few times were absolute hell to me, because I must have literally retracted some kind of disease just from being near you. You are the fucking EMBODIMENT of tumblrina, and it’s so fucking sad because you weren’t like this before (based on what a few others have told me).

the use of tumblrina here is jus makin me laugh ur a funny guy buddy but i feel like my past self is worse thn my current self like past me participated in cringe culture so like ew

The way you talk? Absolutely fucking horrid. Sit the fuck up and talk like a normal goddamn human being. I’m here to talk to you, not to decipher some 57 commas and abhorrid shortening of words. Jesus fucking Christ Sombre, I can understand Internet slang and cutting some words up, but you fucking butcher the English language so bad it literally sounds like a toddler having a stroke while mashing at their keyboard. It’s “that” not “tht”, it’s “thing” not “thng”, it’s “something” not “smth”, and for GOD FUCKING SAKES IT’S “THE” NOT “TH”. ARE YOU LITERALLY SO FUCKING LAZY THAT YOU CAN’T EVEN TYPE “THE”, A THREE LETTER WORD. I don’t give a shit if you’re talking like this to sound like an anxious uwu tumblr piece of SHIT, it sounds fucking IDIOTIC and it’s an ABSO-FUCKING-LUTE PAIN TO READ.

language is fake and is mostly just sounds we give meaning, im very sorry if you have trouble reading the way i type and id be more than happy to try and not speak to you like i usually do to everyone else if you just asked politely and talked it out with me (tho the idiotic part is accurate im not very smart lmao)

SPEAKING OF YOUR TUMBLR, LET’S TALK ABOUT YOUR UPSET.TXT TAG. If you think anyone is gonna pity you, SPOILER ALERT! THEY’RE FUCKING NOT. Unless they’re your shitty “friends”, NOBODY fucking gives a shit, alrighty? Speaking from my perspective and a few others, nobody’s gonna see this venting on their dashboard and give two shits. Unless they’re your mutuals, they won’t care and it just leaves a bad impression. It’s pathetic how when ANYTHING negative happens to you, you decide to take to Tumblr to boo hoo crypost about it. You wanna vent? You wanna cry yourself to sleep? Cool, talk about it on your server, NOT FUCKING TUMBLR, WHERE LITERALLY ANYONE CAN SEE IT. This is just like how Facebook used to be, you see these posts of people posting personal shit and getting bit in the ass for it later, YEAH WELL THAT’S WHAT’S HAPPENING TO YOU RIGHT NOW BUDDY. DON’T LIKE IT? DON’T FUCKING VENT ON TUMBLR.

i rarely vent on here dude like?? do you see the time gaps between the posts in my vent tag? its also my blog so i can post whatever i like as long as im not hurting anyone yo, plus the point of venting for me at least isnt to like get attention or sympathy its to let off some steam not to mention most to all of my vent posts are vague as hell so like…. why do you even care though?? if i get bit in the ass then thats my problem not yours

Right, so let’s talk about your “im gay” tag too! You identify as male, correct? That’s cool! Congrats. But you’re not gay if you clearly show an interest in girls. Doesn’t matter if they’re fictional or not. Your “im gay” tag is filled with girls (Bismuth, some anime girl, pinup girls). NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE! You’re male, those are females! Opposite genders! That means you’re NOT GAY! WOAAAAAH! So who are you to be reblogging and posting all this shit about how hetero people are the devil, hetero people are the worst wah wah, when you yourself identify as a guy and clearly seem to be interested in girls, even if just a little?

dude i used to identify as nonbinary i only recently started identifying as male, hell i used to identify as female ages back so like? the posts in that tag are most to all old and i do realize my attraction to girls isnt gay, hence why ive only been referring to my attraction to dudes as me being gay post-male identification i guess

Speaking of all the heterophobic shit you reblog, have you not considered it could make some of your followers feel absolutely terrible? I’m bi myself, I like both guys and girls, but holy FUCK when I see that shit on your blog it makes me feel guilty for liking guys at all! Is that how you want people to feel? Whether they’re pan, bi, or straight, that shit’s literally so fucking damaging and it sure as hell hurts to see! And don’t throw that “some of those posts are jokes” bullshit at me, because guess the fuck what! They may be jokes to people who aren’t hetero, but they sure as hell don’t seem like jokes to those who are! How would you feel if I made a joke that was even SLIGHTLY negative towards homosexuals? Wait, no, don’t answer that, because I already know how you’d feel. You’d get pissy, you’d stomp your little baby feet over to Tumblr, and then crypost about it, saying you’re facing homophobia and being harassed blah blah blah.

HETEROPHOBIC IM LAUGHING…. buddy…. pal…. heterophobia is fake and im very sorry if those post make you feel bad as a bisexual person (im also bi so) but heterophobia isnt actually a thing, comparing jokes directed at straight people to lgbtphobia is inherently lgbtphobic as it compares little jokes most to all directed at bigoted/ignorant straights to something that can often result in the actual literal death of hundreds of people for their gender/orientation- that doesnt happen to straight people dude

Also: you don’t have autism. Were you officially diagnosed? Because I’m gonna be real fuckin’ honest, it doesn’t sound like you have autism. You sure have something, hoh yeah, but it’s sure as hell not autism. You put your “autism” up on a pedestal and act like it’s one of the only things about you, like no hunty, your mental illness doesn’t define you. Nobody gives a shit, okay? Your mental illness isn’t an excuse to act like a literal fuckface, it’s not an excuse to treat people like shit, and it sure as hell isn’t an excuse to blame everything on others and make yourself out to be the good guy because “my autism made me anxious or forget things ;w;”. This is the exact kind of tumblrina thing I’m talking about, people on this goddamn website act like their mental illness is the only quality about them and that not being neurotypical makes them special. NEWS-FUCKIN-FLASH, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. You don’t see me using my mental illness as an excuse for my actions, because I actually step the fuck up and take responsibility for shit I’ve caused. My mental illness does not define me. There’s more to me than that. You need to realize that your fake-ass autism isn’t an excuse for you to be a fucking asshole to the people around you, and that your actions do have consequences. Stop blaming others for shit you’ve caused, stop calling people jackasses when it’s YOU who’s insulting people and twisting the truth, and for the love of God tell your white knights of friends to shut the FUCK up if they don’t know all the details of a situation.

i was technically diagnosed albeit in a nontraditional fashion (a psych at our middleschool was the one who diagnosed me) and i have never defined myself solely by my autism nor have i used it as an excuse for my fuck ups, ive literally apologized and stopped doing the things i did since the blu incident, i recognize i fucked up there and i apologized and i havent done the whole lying out of anxiety thing since, also my white knights of friends??? YOURE the one coming into MY inbox to tell me how shit i am after i blocked blu i literally just want this to be over leave me alone dude

Alright, so now that we’re done talking about YOU, let’s talk about your fandoms. You like Osomatsu-San. Okay, that’s fine. What’s not fine is how FUCKING obsessive you are about it. There’s nothing wrong with liking something and being attached to characters, making art of it, having a blog, reblogging it, talking about it, that’s okay. That’s okay! But you? You fucking hold the characters so close and act like they’re your own characters. You get upset when something doesn’t go your way in the show. This was evidenced by how many times you’ve complained about episodes (guess where? upset.txt) after they’ve come out. That anon about the straight joke? You got so heated over that, didn’t you? Saying Chibita was “out of character”, BITCH, what do you fucking know? He’s not your goddamn character! The writers will write him however the fuck they want. It’s THEIR fucking show, it’s THEIR fucking characters, and it’s THEIR decision of who does what and who acts like what. There’s a VERY thick line between canon and fanon, and you can’t seem to distinguish that AT ALL. You merge your shitty headcanons with the canon universe, and when something doesn’t go your way, you FREAK THE FUCK OUT and go crying about it in your server or on your tags.

youre blowing that ONE FUCKING POST so out of proportion ive never complained abt ososan in upset.txt outside of MAYBE episode 4 and that would be because of the NONCONSENSUAL SEX SCENE i KNOW my headcanons arent canon i KNOW that the chibita/snowtoko complaint was MINOR and i fucking LIKED THAT EPISODE A LOT!! i didnt cry i just felt that based on how the staff have characterized chibita up until that point it was a little jarring to see him react like he did THAT IS ALL! what the fuck!! how would you even know what i talk about in my servers!! youre obviously misinformed my guy!!!

Lemme tell you something, Sombre: Karabita isn’t canon. OH SHIT! I SAID IT BOYS! THAT’S A FUCKING CURSE ISN’T IT!! No, sorry, sit the fuck down and suck those tears up, because it’s true. It’s not canon. It isn’t. You grasp at straws to say it is, but it isn’t. Chibita wore somehing blue? Oh shit, it’s Karamatsu! He’s clearly in love with him! No, sorry honey, that’s not how it works. Of course Chibita would feel pity on him and let him stay with him (ep 24), because who wouldn’t? That doesn’t mean they’re dating. Karamatsu may be the most bisexual person ever, but he sure as hell isn’t dating Chibita (at least, not canonly). Speaking of Chibita, you need to stop acting like any other Matsu x Chibita ship is literal hell. They’re not. There are some decent ones out there, and although they’re rarepairs by now, they’re a lot better quality than the Karabita bullshit you spew out.

me saying karabita is canon is a joke, and my disdain for non karabita matsubita ships is based half in coping reasons and half in chibita has literally no chemistry with the other matsus and seems to not like any of the other bros at all whereas hes actually shown some level of tolerance or interest in karamatsu

While we’re on the subject of non-canon ships, Atsutodo isn’t canon either. Fuck’s sake, they were on screen together for 10 damn seconds. Yes, I’m aware there’s card art of Atsushi and Todomatsu having a meal together, but they’re very clearly not dating if Todomatsu is still going out with girls and holding their hands etc. Oh, speaking of Todomatsu: Your trans hc of him? Generic as fuck. He’s not trans. Call me a transphobe, I don’t give a shit, but he’s not trans. Look at the -kun animes. He’s a guy. Where in his life would he have magically been a girl and then go right back to a guy? The time span between a 12 year old and a 21 year old isn’t long enough to allow you time to transition. In that day and age, it wasn’t even acceptable to be transgender. So none of the Matsus are trans, get that out of your head. Get those “autism hcs” out of your head too, because I KNOW you hc Kara and Jyushi as autistic (and I’m aware you used to headcanon Ichimatsu as autistic too, but we’ll get to that later).

i know atsutodo isnt canon i never said it was all the “x ship is canon” jokes are about karabita and theyre jokes dude, i just think atsutodo would be cute. why the fuck do you even care about my trans hcs?? theyre HEADCANONS they dont HURT ANYONE and like dude there are trans children out there….. stop being a fuckface about simple headcanons what the fuck.

Lemme tell ya something. Karamatsu sure as hell isn’t autistic. Literally the only reason you headcanon him as such is because you yourself claim to be autistic and because “uwu he’s m fav,,,, i relate to him,,,”. Also, I realize “jyushi is autistic xD” headcanons are common, but JESUS FUCK it’s time for them to die. Jyushimatsu is just bizarre in and out, it’s his personality and his way of life. If you’re gonna hc him as autistic for his personality, you’re obviously ignoring his physical abilities. What about that time he cloned himself? Grew different sizes? What about how he seemingly has no bones (tentacle arms)? But oh, let’s ignore that, because he’s always got a smile on his face and he has a childish personality so DURR HE’S OBVIOUSLY AUTISTIC. Also, you used to headcanon Ichimatsu as autistic, but as soon as you started hating him you threw that headcanon out the window. This is PROOF you only headcanon your favorite characters as autistic, and that’s some of the STUPIDEST shit ever.

literally just let people headcanon what they want if it doesnt hurt anyone, im sure in canon theyre not autistic but this is HEADCANON. and is this also to imply that just because a character can do bizarre thing with theyre body they cant also be autistic?? what the fuck does that have to do with anything??? and i didnt throw my autistic ichi hc out the window because “i hate him” i dont even hate him im indifferent to him i hate his fanon incarnation because its stupidly out of character and one note, i also didnt even drop the autism hc for him i feel like he definitely 100% could be autistic but i just dont think about it as much because i think about other characters more than i think about him

Oh yeah, I’d love to hear why you hate Ichimatsu so much? Shut up, I know it’s because “hhhh he abuses kara” but that’s fucking wrong. Listen, Ichimatsu isn’t exactly my favorite either but at least I don’t make him out to be a fucking asshole to Karamatsu. All of the brothers have treated Karamatsu like shit at one point or another. They’ve thrown things at him, ditched him, called him names, ignored him, it’s a fucking trope in the anime that Karamatsu was the one to get hurt. Sure, season 2 has kinda turned that around, but the whole “Ichimatsu is bitter to Karamatsu” thing is the dynamic between them. They DO have moments where they’re not onto each other, though. See how Ichimatsu followed Karamatsu into the woods? Remember the episode where they switched clothes? They didn’t kill each other neither of those times, did they? And yes, I’m aware Ichimatsu has hurt Karamatsu at times (the bazooka, I think smacking?) but he doesn’t LITERALLY ABUSE HIM. You don’t see him kicking him around, PUNCHING HIM, HITTING HIM, EVERY SECOND OF HIS LIFE. Yes, he calls him names. Yes, he’s threatened to hurt him (“I’ll kill you, Shittymatsu.”) but he’s been stopped or HAS stopped every time. If he really was so intent on hurting Karamatsu, don’t you think he wouldn’t ignore his brothers and hurt Karamatsu anyway? But no, he didn’t, and he stopped each time he grabbed Kara. That’s because the entire “Ichimatsu despises Karamatsu” thing is a GAG in the show. It’s meant to be funny. It’s not meant for your negative ass to label it as abuse and then boohoo about it every time Ichimatsu is mentioned. That’s not a valid reason to hate a character, hell, even Karamatsu’s seiyuu said in a Doramatsu CD that Karamatsu was just comic relief. And if you’re gonna look for a reason why Ichimatsu dislikes Karamatsu, consider the hinted and well-supported reason: Ichimatsu “hates” Karamatsu because of how confident he is and how he can always be himself. Ichi is insecure. Ichi is antisocial. Kara, on the other hand, can express himself and show how “cool” he is. Consider that Ichimatsu wants to be more like him, hence why he said he’s the “number one Karamatsu boy” in that one episode.

okay this is just ridiculous i DONT HATE ICHIMATSU and i KNOW its a GAG, i KNOW they get along sometimes i KNOW all the brothers have shat on kara I KNOW THIS abuse takes many forms though and in a more serious anime the way the bros treat kara would probably be depicted as abusive, but it isnt a serious anime so its a gag and i understand that thats FINE, did you even watch the ichimatsu incident? ichimatsu got plenty fucking pissed off at karamatsu and stuff and the “number one karamatsu boy” nonsense was him being concerned about how karamatsu might think of him as such not him calling himself a karamatsu boy, and yes i know the whole ichi wants to be cool and confident like kara thing i understand that but even so that wouldnt logically excuse his bitterness toward kara but again, its a gag anime so its whatever, youre also ignoring the facet of his disdain towards kara being in part because kara is also vain and ichi finds this annoying and thinks kara is fake as hell because of it there was something in i think a magazine where the bros are all asked what they think of eachother i think and i THINK ichi said something along the lines of him not liking kara because he fakes being nice for the sake of his own ego or something (which is likely ichi just having a negative image of kara rather than that actually being the case because i dont think karas that smart but who knows i dont!!) so like y’know

In conclusion, I would like to say you need to shut the fuck up and chill with your fandoms and headcanons, realize headcanons aren’t canon, and also get your head out of your ass. You’ve done so many wrong things and need to stop blaming them on others. You’ve lied, insulted, and put the blame on so many of your old friends, you’ve avoided people who you deem “toxic” (simply because they have different opinions than you), you think people can’t form their own opinions, and you don’t back up your friends when they’re getting shittalked. You act like an assoholic brat and cannot, for the life of you, open up your eyes and see this. You’re lucky the dicktwats on your server are there for you, because if they weren’t, you’d be all alone, and honestly? That seems pretty good at this point. Fits you perfectly.

i know headcanons arent canon, i know ive lied (though ive really only insulted people who were dicks to my friends and maybe blu which probably not a good thing but i mean hes also insulted me so?? even i guess??) and i regret that, im more honest now and try my best to show kindness to people who have done me and my friends no wrong, ive only ever put blame on blu i literally dont blame anyone else for anything, i dont avoid people i deem “toxic” i avoid people i dont get along with because if i dont get along with them then theres no reason to talk to them im gonna let them live their lives, of course i think people can form their own opinions what on earth are you talking about???? when did i not back up a friend when they got shit talked?? i dont remember that but id like to deeply apologize if i ever did, unless youre talking about when someone in my server insults blu over ykno… him not leaving me alone and harassing me when ive done nothing but mind my own business since the incident, then while it was kind of uncomfortable for me because i felt it was the wrong thing to do i couldnt exactly muster the words to protest it. im very sorry you feel that way im always trying to improve and i like to think that im making some level of progress in being more sensitive and kind to those around me. but also dont insult my friends they didnt do shit weve been minding our own goddamn business this entire time blu is the one who started it back up again.

Now, go back to crying in your server and soaking in self-deprication, fuckass.

yknow i get the feeling i know who this is but i dont want to jump to any conclusions so, uh, okay! see ya my dude :0c

#shut up sombre #drama /#heres to hoping this is the last thing i get abt this bc this is jus really dumb and im tryna move on over here #ask to tag /#submission

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supernatural-stuffs · 7 years

Text

Fire Safety-Part 1

A/N: So I’ve finally decided to get back to writing again. This is the first RPF I’ve attempted to write, so please be kind. There will be a part two coming soon, told from Jared’s POV because I’m a wordy-ass bitch and can’t write one-shots, apparently. Also, my old main blog kept acting up, so I will be following back and replying with @adepta-vitam (which is more grammatically accurate anyway). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading!!

Warnings: Language, angst (I think?), canon-level violence

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Reader

Disclaimer: Both Jensen and Jared are single for the purposes of this fic. No hate intended towards either of their wives or families-this is purely fiction!!!

Word Count: 4,727

"Dean!” you screamed as the vampire appeared behind him. “Duck!"

He didn’t hesitate, slamming to the ground as you hurled the machete over his head, slicing cleanly through the neck of the bloodsucker about to make him his main course. Dean panted as he lay there on the ground, covered in blood and vampire guts. You rushed to him, kneeling on the ground beside him. Your hands fluttered over the blood stain on his shirt, trying to assess his injuries. He grabbed them in his instead, not letting you fuss over him.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, flashing that cocky grin at you. “Completely injury free.”

He released one of your hands to stroke a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You let out a sigh of relief and nearly attacked him as you threw yourself on top of him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I thought…”

“Yeah, I know, sweetheart. But I’m right here. Everything’s fine,” he reassured.

He rubbed your back soothingly. You pulled back to look at him. He met your gaze evenly. You didn’t move, holding your breath as he stroked a hand across your cheek. Dean’s eyes flickered towards your lips. You were sure your heart stopped beating. He leaned in, breath mingling with yours…and let out a huge burp.

“Cut!” called Bob exasperatedly.

You punched Jensen on the arm, but you were laughing as you pulled away from him.

“Dude, you seriously need a breath mint. What the hell did you eat for lunch?”

“Garlic toast,” he choked out through his laughter. “I thought I’d make the experience as enjoyable as possible for you.”

“You two done?” asked Bob aggravatedly, raising an eyebrow.

“I am not kissing him til someone gets him some gum,” you pointed accusingly at him.

Jensen grabbed your waist and hauled you closer to him, blowing a long breath into your face. You squealed and squirmed around in his grip.

“I think you just singed off my eyebrows,” you giggled.

“Alright,” declared Bob. “I’m not gonna get anywhere with you right now. Take 15.” He stalked off towards the light crew.

You stopped laughing, feeling guilty now. That had been the third time you and Jensen had messed up the scene. Bob was just trying to do his job.

Jensen waved his hand in front of your face. “Hello…Earth to Y/N.”

You snapped back to attention. “Do you think we should go apologize to Bob?”

He slung his arm over your shoulders. “We’ll talk to him after the break. Give him time to cool off.”

You nodded still biting your lip nervously. You were relatively new to the world of Supernatural; to acting in general, in fact. You couldn’t afford to piss off the director and lose your job this early. Especially not this job. You loved Supernatural and the family that came with it. Everyone, cast and crew included, were supportive and helpful and welcoming. You hadn’t had much interaction with the fans, given the season hadn’t premiered yet, but you were sure they were just as amazing.

“Hey guys!”

And there was the other reason, jogging towards you. The tall, hazel-eyed, potential shampoo model otherwise known as Jared Padalecki. Though your character was heading towards a relationship with Jensen’s, it was his costar you had fallen for. And who could blame you, really? Jared was gorgeous, down-to-earth, hilarious…and just about every other positive adjective you could think of. You shrugged Jensen’s arm off of you and turned to face Jared as he approached.

“Hey!” you responded, a little too brightly.

Thankfully, neither of the guys seemed to notice.

“Is there a reason Bob is acting so pissy?” Jared asked. “He just about bit off an intern’s head.”

Your cheeks flushed with guilt again. You shot a look at Jensen again, who was trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s not funny!” you slapped him on the chest. “That poor intern!”

Jared’s eyebrows shot up. “So it was you guys.”

“Yeah…” admitted Jensen. “We may have pushed Bob a little too far.”

“Wait…wasn’t your kissing scene supposed to be today?”

A nervous laugh bubbled out of your throat before you could stop it. “Yeah… it never actually happened though.”

“Well it would have, if you hadn’t insulted my hygiene habits.”

“Hygiene habits my ass! He had garlic for lunch, Jared. Garlic!”

Jared started laughing. “Seriously, man?”

Jensen nodded, grinning. You rolled your eyes.

“You guys are morons.”

The rest of the day passed smoothly. You apologized to Bob and finally completed your scene (garlic breath and all). Eventually, you reached your tiny apartment and went to bed, stumbling through your nightly routine.

Your alarm blared in your ear all too soon. You groaned and rolled over, slamming the button. But the loud beeping persisted.

You opened your eyes, confused. Your room was pitch black. The numbers on your clock read 2:37am. You sucked in a yawn as you sat up. And then you smelled it.

Smoke.

Realization hit you all at once. The ear-piercing blaring of the fire alarms seemed to get more urgent as you bolted out of bed. You rushed to the door and grasped the knob.

"Shit!" You let go quickly and waved your hand frantically.

The knob was burning hot. You should have thought to test the door before you opened it. If the knob was that hot, the fire was probably close. As in, on the other side of your door.

You backed away, trying to figure out what action to take. The door was definitely out. Your eyes flitted to the window. But you were on the second floor. There’s no guarantee you’d survive a fall like that. You pushed aside the curtains anyway, hoping for a solution.

And you found one, in the form of a rusty red fire escape. You crawled out the window nimbly, pausing to grab your phone from the nightstand in an afterthought, tucking it in the waistband of your sleep shorts. You climbed down the creaky ladder, trying your hardest not to let fear cloud your thoughts. The end of the ladder was in sight. As you climbed the last few rungs, you saw a large crowd gathered by the parking lot, watching anxiously as firefighters and EMTs rushed around.

"Y/N!” cried Mrs. Perko, your neighbor. She enfolded you in a tight hug, tears filling her eyes. “I was so worried about you, dear.”

You patted her arm awkwardly, not completely comfortable with this sudden display of affection. Finally extracting yourself from her grip, your eyes flitted over to the building. It seemed that the fire had been subdued rather quickly.

“Was anyone hurt?” you questioned the crowd.

An older gentleman spoke up. “A few, from smoke inhalation. And they’re still evacuating the building now. But they put out the fire before it did any real damage, I think.”

“Thank God,” you murmured.

A few people nodded their agreement. Everyone turned back to their own side conversations, most likely figuring out where to stay for the night. That was something you needed to consider, as well. You could sleep in your car…except for the small fact that your keys were still in your apartment. Along with any money, credit cards, and ID you had. So getting a taxi and sleeping in a hotel for the night was out. You weighed your options. You did have your phone. You could call someone. Jared’s face flashed in your mind. But he was probably sleeping. And you hated to be a burden. But what was the other alternative, really? Sleeping in the street somewhere, with only a tiny tank top and pajama shorts for protection? You’d surely freeze to death in the Canadian weather. You sucked up your pride for the time being and dialed his number. The phone rang once, twice, three times. You almost lost your nerve and hung up when you heard a click.

“Hello?” his groggy voice came over the phone.

“Jared? Oh my God, you were asleep. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” you babbled.

“Y/N?” He sounded much more awake now, voice shot through with something you couldn’t quite place. Concern? “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Definitely concern. “Well…umm…my apartment building…there was kind of a small fire and-”

“A fire?” Jared’s voice went up an octave. “Shit, are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine,“ you reassured. “But I had to leave my keys and my wallet and I didn’t really have anyone else to call…” You trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m on my way,” Jared promised. “Hang tight, okay Y/N?”

“Okay,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks, Jare.”

“Of course. I’ll be there soon as I can.”

You heard another click, this time signaling the end of the call, and breathed a sigh of relief. He really was a life-saver. A firefighter came by, offering you a blanket, but it did little to keep the cold at bay. Soon enough, people started to vacate the lot. The ambulances pulled away and the firetrucks departed. And you, well you just did your best to not get frostbite. You wrapped your arms around your shivering form, attempting to keep the heat in somewhat. Your fingers and toes were just starting to go numb when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N!”

Jared strode over to you as you turned to locate him. He wrapped you up in his strong arms tightly, and you relished in his warmth and the smell of his shower gel.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re freezing!”

He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm you with friction. You nodded and shivered into his chest. He pulled away all too soon, eyes raking you up and down for injuries as he pulled off the zip-up he had been wearing and draped it around your shoulders.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jared eyed you skeptically.

You nodded and pushed your arms through the sweatshirt, zipping it up nearly all the way. It hung past the hem of your shorts, making it seem as though you weren’t wearing bottoms at all.

“I’m okay. Really.”

He gave you one last glance over, as if he didn’t really believe you. This just gave you the chance to look at him. His hair was mussed with the aftermath of bedhead, and his muscles bulged out of the T-shirt he wore. He pulled you into his side and tucked you under his arm before you could start drooling, thankfully, and began walking you toward his car. Your heart fluttered at being so close to him, though you wished it were under different circumstances. He opened the passenger door for you-always the gentleman-and helped you in before shutting it softly behind you. You noticed the car was already running, the key still in place from when he had parked it. Jared slid into the driver’s seat and immediately started messing with the heat, turning it on full blast.

“You can change it if you get too hot or anything.”

You nodded at him and stilled his hand, which was still fussing with the knob. He peeked up at you through his long eyelashes.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to put as much meaning behind those words as you could, hoping he would understand you weren’t just talking about the temperature.

He smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”

His gaze suddenly became too much, and you removed your hand from on top of his. He looked away swiftly and changed gears, beginning the trip to his apartment, which was only about 15 minutes away, though it had felt like much longer when you were fighting off the cold by yourself.

“So…the car was still running when I got in. Did you mean to do that or…?”

Jared blushed. “I kinda forgot. I was so worried about finding you, I just…didn’t even think about it.”

Now it was your turn to blush. He was that concerned about you? Maybe that meant he cared about you…just as you cared about him? No, that couldn’t be right. Jared was a good guy. Of course he’d be worried about you-you were friends. It was foolish to hope for anything more.

“Oh. Well I’m glad you did. Find me, I mean.”

A small smile played on the corner of Jared’s lips. “Me too.”

You lapsed into silence for a moment. You noticed it was already almost 3 in the morning and internally groaned. Call time was only 4 hours away. What were you supposed to do? You didn’t have clothes, or even shoes. Your license, credit cards, everything was still at your apartment. And, judging by the amount of smoke that had spilled into your room, you weren’t going to be getting them back. Jared nudged you on the shoulder.

“Hey. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You buried your face in your hands and blinked back tears. “Nothing, it’s just…work’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow.”

“I could call Bob,” offered Jared. “Get him to move around your scenes. I’m sure he would understand.”

You smiled into your hands at his effort to help. You looked up at him, pushing your hair back in frustration.

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t want to mess everything up. But thank you.”

You swallowed, hard. You watched Jared drive for a moment. “What am I gonna do, Jared?”

He pulled up at a red light, turning to look at you as you continued.

“Everything is gone. All I have are the clothes on my back-literally. I don’t-”

“Hey,” a warm, calloused hand landed on your knee, cutting you off. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I know everything looks bad right now. But there’s nothing you can do about it tonight. Just try to relax, and we can look at it again in the morning.”

Your heart warmed with the way he had said “we”. You weren’t in it alone. Nodding, you gave him a watery smile. He squeezed your knee once comfortingly before removing it to place it back on the steering wheel. You felt cold without his touch.

The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins started to wear off. You could feel the exhaustion seeping in, and rather than fighting it, you closed your eyes and let it overtake you, knowing you were safe with Jared next to you.

You awoke for the second time that day, not to the blaring of a fire alarm, but to the soft calling of your name and a light pressure on your arm. It took you a moment for your sleep-addled brain to figure out where you were. You felt a plush mattress underneath you, so you knew you were no longer in Jared’s car. How you got to said mattress, you couldn’t say, but frankly you didn’t really care. You burrowed further into the blankets, letting your head sink into the plush pillow.

Jared chuckled.

“Come on Y/N. You’ve gotta wake up.”

You groaned and shut your eyes tighter. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, turning away from him.

“Y/N,” Jared said in a sing-song voice. “Time for work.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shhh. Y/N is sleeping. Please leave a message at the tone.”

You made a strangled beeping sound as you flailed blindly with your hand, trying to push him away.

“You’re really not a morning person, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

You refused to respond.

“Would the promise of breakfast wake you up at all?” he wondered, bouncing up and down on the bed, making your body roll towards him.

You shifted to face him completely, cracking open one eye to see if he was bluffing. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking amused at your morning state.

“What kind of breakfast?”

Jared grinned. “Waffles. Chocolate chip waffles, if we’re being specific.”

You opened your other eye. “Will there be coffee?”

Jared nodded, beaming. You sighed and sat up slowly, running a hand through your tangled hair.

“She awakens!”

You glared at him. “Well I’m glad you’re so chipper this morning.”

He snickered and headed towards the door, calling over his shoulder as he went. “If you want to shower, you can use the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Towels are in there already.”

“Uh, Jared?” you stopped him before he got out the door. “I don’t really have anything to wear…”

He smacked his hand to his forehead. “I totally forgot about that.”

He scrutinized you as you sat on the bed, as if he was assessing what would look best on you. You felt self-conscious under his gaze, and you tried desperately to comb out the knots in your hair. He smirked at your efforts.

“I think I might have an old pair of sweatpants that might fit okay…I’ll see what I can find.”

You nodded. “Thank you!” You called to his retreating back.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You barely had time to shovel a waffle down your throat before you heard the honking of a car outside.

“That’ll be Cliff,” stated Jared as he pulled on his jacket.

He tossed you a hoodie from the coat rack, which you nearly fell over trying to catch. You managed to snag it just before it hit the ground. Looking up sheepishly, you saw Jared fighting to keep in his laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, buddy. Yuk it up at the non-coordinated girl.”

That broke him. He burst into giggles, his cheeks turning red from his mirth.

You glared at him, pushing past him out the door, his laughter following you outside. You made your way to the large black car and slid in. Jensen hadn’t even looked up from his phone.

“Dude, you gotta watch this video,” he said, grinning down at his screen. “It’s hil-”

He glanced up and did a double take. “You’re not Jared,” he stated stupidly.

You gasped and looked down at yourself. “I’m not?” you said, pretending to be shocked.

Jared-the real Jared-slid in behind you. Jensen’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of you.

“Woah-are you guys-did you finally make it to bone zone, dude?” He asked excitedly.

Both of your cheeks colored bright crimson, and Jared started shaking his head so hard you were afraid he’d get whiplash.

“No! She’s not-I mean, we’re not-it’s not like that,” Jared scrambled to deny it.

Your heart dropped. Even though you knew that it wasn’t like that between you and Jared, it still hurt to hear him dismiss it so vehemently.

Jensen leaned back, looking disappointed. “Oh. Well then what is going on?”

“My apartment-there was a fire-”

"A fire?” Jensen looked up, aghast.

You nodded. “So I called Jared, and he let me stay with him for the night.”

“Geez,” said Jensen, leaning back in his seat and running his hand through his hair. “That sucks Y/N. If you need anything, let me know.”

You gave him a small smile.

“Thanks, Jens.”

He nodded back an affirmation.

“That reminds me, though,” you sighed sullenly. “I’ve gotta go back to the apartment after the fire, see if I can get to my stuff.”

“I can drive you,” Jared volunteered.

You felt terrible, making him cart you around everywhere like some kind of toddler, but it’s not like you had any other option.

“Thank you, Jared.”

He smiled at you and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly before returning his hand to his side. Your skin tingled where he touched you, and you felt your heart beat pick up just from the casual gesture.

Goddamn it Y/N. You’re like a schoolgirl with a crush, you scolded yourself. Internally shaking it off, you passed the rest of the ride in silence.

“Y/N!”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of your voice. Turning, you saw Bob jogging after you. He caught up with you as you waited.

“Can I see you in my office?”

You were sure your heart physically fell out of your chest. Oh my God, you thought. You nodded, forcing yourself to smile politely as you followed him across the set. This is it. He’s gonna fire me. Or tell me I’m not cut out for acting. Or both. Definitely both. As you ran through all the terrible things that could possible happen in this impromptu meeting, you didn’t even notice when you reached the door to his office. It swung open, and you were met with the man himself. Eric Kripke. Holy shit, you screamed internally. You must have been a pretty terrible actress for them to get the creator of the fucking show to come in and fire you.

“Y/N!” He smiled warmly. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.”

Nice for you, maybe. You’re not the one getting fired, you thought bitterly. But you nodded and smiled anyway.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” At least you could go out with some dignity.

“I wanted to give my condolences for the fire that occurred last night. If you need anything, please let me know.”

You bobbed your head mechanically, waiting for him to get to the point. “Thank you, Mr. Kripke. That means a lot.”

“Please,” he said waving his hand at you. “Call me Eric.”

“Oh-um, okay.”

That was certainly unexpected. He seemed pretty buddy-buddy for a guy who was about to give you the boot. He’s probably just trying to cushion the blow.

“Well, Y/N. You’ve made quite an impression on the cast here.”

This was it. This was the part where he told you you were a terrible actress. That you should find a different profession. You were so busy steeling yourself for the blow that you almost missed his next words.

“The writers and I have talked, and we have decided that we aren’t quite ready to get rid of Y/C/N just yet.”

“I completely unders- wait, what?”

“We want to renew your contract.”

You stared at him blankly, shocked.

“For next season,” he elaborated when you didn’t respond.

“I-I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting that. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much,” you gushed.

“What were you expecting? That I was going to fire you?” He laughed as if he’d just made the funniest joke in the world.

You smiled weakly at him and slumped back in your seat. A million things were running through your mind. At the forefront was Jared. You would get to work with him again. You would be seeing him, every day, for the foreseeable future. You weren’t sure if that excited you or scared you. Both, if you were being honest with yourself. Excited because you would get to be near him, every day, see that bright smile with the dimples and the way he threw his head back when he laughed. And scared because you didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it, watching him every day and knowing he’d never be yours.

Eric interrupted your train of thought. “Alright then, we’ll get your contract all squared away tomorrow. I just wanted to inform you as soon as possible for scheduling purposes."

He stood and offered his hand to you, and you realized the meeting was over. You shot up, shaking his hand.

"Have a nice night, Y/N."

“Right. You too, sir.”

Bob opened the door for you (he had just stood at the back of the room the whole time-kind of creepily, you might add) and you stepped out, almost in a dream. You saw Jensen across the lot, walking aimlessly around holding a phone up to his ear. You waved to him, and he caught your eye. He said something into the phone, and made a beeline straight for you. You walked towards him, planning on meeting him halfway. You could make out his voice as the two of you got closer together.

“Yeah man, she’s right here…No, we’re by the offices…Okay.”

He ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Someone looking for me?”

“Yeah, Jared. He said he called you but you weren’t picking up.”

You pressed your palm to your forehead. “Oh, shit. I completely forgot to text him. I left my phone in my trailer.”

“Yeah, well this place is pretty small. We were bound to find you eventually.”

You nodded, still feeling guilty that you hadn’t even bothered to text Jared to let him know where you were.

“So, what were you doing over here, anyways? Got a meeting with the big boss?”

“Yeah, actually. I just came from there.”

It was at that moment that Kripke chose to walk out of the office, talking animatedly on his cell.

Jensen’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair line.

“Woah, it really was the big boss. You must have done something pretty bad to make Kripke come in here.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you shoved him playfully with your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he shoved you back the same way, harder. “I would like to know.”

“Well, if you must know, yours truly is having her contract renewed for next season.”

Jensen stopped in his tracks. “No way.”

You nodded, smiling so widely your cheeks hurt.

“Y/N, that’s-that’s awesome!” He laughed, grabbing you and swinging you around in a hug.

You laughed, too, glad that Jensen was this happy you were staying. You two had bonded almost instantly. He reminded you of your older brother, and you knew you had him looking out for you.

“Woah, what’s going on here?”

Jensen stopped swinging you around, and you pulled out of his embrace, stumbling a bit. Strong hands steadied you, and you found yourself face to face (well, face to neck area, more like-he was really tall) with Jared Padalecki. You blushed and stuttered a bit, caught off guard.

“Well, he-I mean, I-was just saying-and then Jensen, he did the spinny thing and then-"

“Y/N’s contract got renewed!” Jensen boomed behind you, saving you from further embarrassment.

You shot him a grateful look.

“Really?”

You looked up at Jared hopefully, nodding. How will he take it? you wondered. Will he be happy?

He smiled slightly at you and nodded. “That’s great, Y/N. Congratulations.”

He didn’t sound very happy. He sounded…a little distraught if you had to choose one word to describe it. Your smile drooped. He wasn’t happy. He didn’t want you around. God, you knew this was going to turn out badly for you. Why did you ever think developing feelings for Jared would be a good idea? He couldn’t even be happy for you as a friend. He probably thought you were annoying, a nuisance, in the way. You made a mental note to find a hotel room for the night. You didn’t want to burden him any more than you already had.You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, trying to hide your disappointment and hurt behind a mask. You were an actor. You could do this. You had to do this. Just stick it out til filming was over, and then you’d disappear, and stop bugging Jared. You could move on with your life, and eventually, probably, you'd forget about the hazel-eyed actor who'd once captured your attention.

“Well I think this calls for celebration!” called Jensen, either not noticing or pretending not to notice the shift in mood. “We going out for drinks?”

You were already shaking your head before he even finished his sentence. “I-um-can’t tonight. I’ve gotta swing by the apartment, see if I can claim my stuff. I don't even know if I'll be able to get my wallet back.”

Jensen scoffed. "Oh please, like you'd be paying. Drinks on me!"

“We’ve got an early call time in the morning,” pointed out Jared.

“You guys didn’t get the text from Bob?”

“My phone’s in the trailer,” you reminded Jensen.

Jared looked confused, too.

“Yeah, Bob said we don’t have to be in til 11 tomorrow. Something about the lighting crew and getting the equipment fixed. And Y/N, we could just swing by your apartment on the way!”

“I mean, I guess we could, but-”

“Great!” exclaimed Jensen. “You go and let everyone know then, and me and Jared will scope out some places. Right, buddy?”

It was obvious Jensen wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You sighed, bracing yourself for an awkward night.

Tags: @strawberryjuiceboxxx @katymacsupernatural @supernatural-jackles

#spn rpf #jared padalecki #reader insert #supernatural #jared padalecki x reader

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thereviewsarein · 4 years

Text

A lot can happen in a few short months, even when the world feels like it’s crawled to a standstill. And that couldn’t be more true for Nice Horse.

Since we last had the chance to chat with the four-woman country band back in January, the pandemic hit, shows were cancelled, and festival season was scrapped – but there have also been two music video releases, the band’s first Top 40 single, and a Canadian Country Music Association nomination for Interactive Artist of the Year.

Recently, I had the chance to get on the Zoom with Krista to talk about the last few months and the upcoming CCMAs, and what we were able to hash out is that it’s hard to say that anything can make up for the downs that artists, fans, and the industry are going through this year, but at least Nice Horse has had some things to smile about.

Related: 2020 Canadian Country Music Association Awards Nominees & Fan Poll

When we last caught up with Nice Horse in Toronto, they had just filmed the music video for Hot Mess, and in hindsight, we wish we had asked a lot more questions about it because it is a romp.

Filmed mostly at The Darling Mansion in Toronto, with a superb guest-starring role from Toronto Drag Queen, Jezebel Bardot and special appearances by RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars season 3 winner, Trixie Mattel, the Hot Mess video is a ton of fun, offers amazing visuals in a perfect filming location, and packs as much Drag fun as possible into a country music video. Oh, and the song is a banger too!

When we spoke to the band in January, Krista told us that she had taken on a lot of the last-minute Producer duties because indie bands have limited budgets – but as an added bonus, as a group of Type A individuals, having their hands on the control switch is also a comfortable position to be in.

Nice Horse – Hot Mess

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Note: I also want to take a quick second to give some much-deserved props to Nice Horse for making this video and using Jezebel Bardot and Trixie Mattel as performers and personalities. This isn’t the norm for country music and it was awesome to see that kind of inclusion in the genre. Well done ladies.

Hot Mess isn’t the only music video released by Nice Horse during the pandemic though. More recently, the band dropped the official music video for their newest single, Cowgirl, and it’s a doozy, too!

The animated clip features all four band members joining forces to fight a giant robot – and if Drag Queens were high on the list of unique features in a country music video, this has to be on there too.

Krista said that once the decision was made to go animated, the band had an opportunity to do things that they would never be able to do in real life. From there, the decision to make themselves superheroes was easy. And fighting a giant robot, why not?! Nice Horse teamed up with Tivoli Films for the video, and while they didn’t have a hand in creating the visuals, they were by no means hands-off.

Krista told me that they went back and forth with the animation team on sketches and details like faces and clothing to make things accurate and cool. She said that the band also took care of writing all of the comic book style captions in the video, putting another stamp of ownership on the creative process.

In the end, Cowgirl is another empowering anthem from Nice Horse, bringing women together, whether they were “raised on Reba, Aretha or Patsy Cline. Shania or Alanis, rocked like Janis. Whatever makes you feel alive.” – and we love it.

Nice Horse – Cowgirl

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Cowgirl has also officially become Nice Horse’s first Top 40 single at Canadian country radio. It’s a significant accomplishment for the band, even if the timing is a little… weird.

Krista told me that she hasn’t reaped the full experiential reward for the Top 40 status, because she hasn’t been out in her car as much listening to country radio. She said that it took a couple of weeks for things to really sink in that they had reached their place on the charts, and while the four members of the band haven’t all been together to celebrate, they have had the chance to connect for some online celebrations together.

As much as there has been to celebrate though, it hasn’t all been strawberries and champagne.

Krista admitted that there were thoughts that, you know, maybe this is the end of the line. There was and is so much uncertainty in the music industry right now that it’s hard for a band that fights for every piece of anything they get to hold on. But, with the Top 40, their well-deserved CCMA nomination, and more music and content on the way, they’re not ready to hang it up yet.

Nice Horse has taken to the internet to write together, and record with award-winning producer Jeff Dalziel. It’s not the same as being in the same room, it’s not ideal, but it’s also not stopping these women from putting in the work so they can take the next step, whenever it’s time to do that.

While we were on our call we did take a few minutes to talk about the band’s CCMA nomination for Interactive Artist of the Year. Nice Horse puts a lot of work into creating great content (outside of their songs and official videos) to share with fans and entertain folks. They take pride in that work, and to see them recognized for it is fantastic.

When we were talking about what’s coming next and what fans might expect, Krista said that the best thing to do is keep an eye on their social feeds. She also encouraged everyone to comment, send messages, get in tough however with their questions or requests or comments. They love to see it. They truly love to be part of the Canadian country music community. And social media allows them to really showcase how great they are with those tools in this time when it’s kind of all we’ve got.

So, check ’em out on Facebook / Instagram / Twitter / YouTube for all the latest and what’s coming next!

Before we go, in case you missed it, hit play on our round of 5 Quick Questions from earlier this year, recorded in the back room at Steve’s Music Store on Queen St. W in Toronto.

5 Quick Questions with Nice Horse

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Related: Hot Mess, Nice Horse Interview & 5 Quick Questions

Thanks again to Krista for taking the time to chat. We can’t wait until we get to see Nice Horse again face to face, and live on stage!

Photos of Nice Horse (2017-2020)

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Cowgirl Talk with Nice Horse’s Krista Wodelet A lot can happen in a few short months, even when the world feels like it's crawled to a standstill.

#country music #Nice Horse

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simmonsofshield · 4 years

Text

Reassignment

Part 1/1

Pairing: none Characters: Kate Beckett, Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Jemma Simmons, Philip Coulson

Summary: Amidst clean up after the Battle of New York, things happen and Officer Y/N ends up in the quinjet’s medical bay.

Words: 1900+

A/N: Unplanned, but I guess in honor of my url change, Jemma has a small feature in this fic! This was originally gonna be a copy-paste of one of my fics from wattpad, but then I wanted to make it more accurate to New York so 98% of this is new writing. So much for trying to cut corners. 🤷😂 Loose tie-ins of Agents of SHIELD and Castle. (Characters, not really the shows..) Canonically, Skye (Daisy) wouldn’t have her powers yet, but my story my rules lol. So she does. Three weeks late (I was suppose to post this on the 1st), but at least I got it done, right? This is for @fanfictionaries‘s classic trope challenge. I chose police au. Takes place after Avengers.

Police codes key: 12-David-19 [Precinct # - city section - police car id] used 9th precinct as reference 10-50 Disorderly (group, person, noise) non-crime 10-10 Possible crime (many tags, the one i use is P, suspicious person/prowler)

“Here’s what’s going on today,” Captain Beckett begins, “it’s been almost six months since the Battle of New York. Midtown South is still asking for help with crowd control and patrol of the area, as most of their officers are helping with clean up. I told them the 12th Precinct is happy to help as long as it doesn’t interfere with our daily patrols. Today they’re only asking for two, so Ryan and Esposito, it’s on you today. Just make sure no weirdos or teens with sticky fingers try to get in the rubble.”

“Yes Captain.”

“L/N, my office, please.”

You look at her with surprise, then over to the boys. Ryan is the first to speak, rolling his eyes, “Of course. Little Y/N getting special treatment once again. I bet you’re getting put on a really cool case. You know, she’s basically training you to be a mini her.”

You roll your eyes back at him, “Sounds like you’re just jealous because I rose to this rank in half the time it took you.”

“Ooooo...” Esposito calls from his desk, “want some ice for that burn?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles as he slumps back in his chair.

You laugh as you walk to Beckett’s office, the door being closed behind you. You start to get worried when she starts shutting the blinds too. “Captain?”

She sets a file in front of you and begins explaining. “Though Kevin was joking, he wasn’t wrong. You have impressed me since you came here from the academy. You were the youngest to be promoted to detective, and your persistence hasn’t gone unnoticed. Which is why I think you’re perfect for this particular assignment.”

She nods to the file, and you pick it up, opening it. Your brows furrow at the first page and you look back up at her, “I don’t understand. Philip Coulson died on a helicarrier before the attack on New York even happened. Didn’t Loki kill him or whatever?”

“Originally, yes.”

“Originally?”

“Most if it is redacted and classified, but what was released - specifically for you in this file, turn the page - was that some experimental tech was used and more or less brought him back to life.”

You read exactly that as she says it, but you’re left with more questions than answers with every page turn. “What do you mean specifically for me? How many people know he’s alive?”

She blows out some air, sitting down at her desk to look you in the eye, “Only SHIELD level 7 and above. We are of only a few civilians that know. This cannot leave this room. The only others that know are ones that will be a part of this team that Agent Coulson is putting together alongside Agent Maria Hill and Director Fury.”

Again, more questions. “But...I’m a homicide detective...not SHIELD...” You pause for a moment as you try to form a question with all the information that is now in your mind, “Why me?” is what you come up with.

She shrugs, “That’s a question for Coulson or Hill. I can’t answer it. You’ll work today but after that you’ll be with SHIELD and Coulson,” she nods back to the file, “I suggest you finish reading through that tonight.” She stands up and walks toward the door.

“I’m sorry, Captain, one last question,” she lets go of the door handle and turns around, “what does all this mean for this job? Am I like fired or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” she says with a smile, “Agent Hill and I already discussed the technicalities, but basically what will be said is that you’re going undercover with SHIELD for a big operation and you’ll be gone for a few weeks. Which, really, isn’t that much of a lie.”

You nodded, somewhat understanding, “Yes, ma’am. See you in a few weeks, I guess.”

She also nods, smiling, “Likewise, detective.”

Nearing the end of your shift, you’re about to head back to the station when there’s an aggravated call on the scanner. “10-50. These crowds are getting out of hand. More officers needed in Midtown near Grand Central.”

You go back and forth in your head for a moment before deciding to respond, “Dispatch, add 12-David-19 to that 10-50 call. En route from East Village. ETA about 20 minutes.” You turn on your lights and try to get there as fast as you can.

Arriving on scene, you park about four blocks away, at Park and 38th, which is as close as you can get with all the rubble and destroyed buildings. This is the main drag of where most of the Avenger’s fight happened. It’s no surprise that half of New York is here to see the damage, even six months later.

Now on foot, you’re about halfway to Grand Central Station when you hear the breaking of glass and catch some suspicious activity out of the corner of your eye. You follow, talking into your radio, “This is 12-David-19. I’ve got a 10-10P. Kids breaking windows of businesses. It doesn’t look like they’ve stolen anything yet. I’m going to keep an eye on them. Requesting one or two officers for backup if anyone can leave Grand Central Station. 40th street, headed NorthEast.”

You casually follow at a distance until all of a sudden, “Whoa, dudes, check this out!” One of the kids picks up a weapon of some sort. Clearly not of this world and from the Battle, you’re 99% sure. He poses with it and one of his friends takes a picture of him with their phone. “I wonder what this button does.”

“Ahh!” Whatever came out of the weapon hits you directly in the shoulder and you fall to the ground. This is the first time the group of kids notice your presence. They fight for a moment, deciding whether to run or help. A groan from you cuts their argument short and most leave, while two stay.

By what you can tell with your blurry vision, they seem to be brothers. The one walking towards you is clearly friends with the ones that fled, while the other is younger. If you had to guess, you’d say early high school, 14-16, and 12ish for their ages.

You grab your radio and talk into it softly. Hopefully someone will be able to hear you. “Ambulance needed at location of 10-10. Officer down, shot with some sort of alien weapon.”

The older one kneels beside you and takes off his shirt, wrapping it around your wound, attempting to make a tourniquet. You let out a raspy laugh. It’s not quite right, but you appreciate the attempt. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

You can see the fear still on his face but he smiles nonetheless, “I’ve seen a few medical shows. I think this is right.”

“Anything to slow the bleeding. You’re doing good. What’s your name?”

“Derek Saunders. Am I going to jail?”

“N-no, why would you think that?”

“My friend shot you. Aren’t I an accessory or whatever?”

You shake your head, “You watch cop shows too?” you joke.

“My dad’s a cop. He’s helping at Grand Central right now.”

You cough out another laugh. How convenient. You’re about to tell him to call his dad on your radio when you hear another blast. It feels like it happens in slow motion. You watch as the burst of energy goes up at an angle and hits the building next to where you’re laying. You hear the boy yell something in the opposite direction, you’re assuming at his brother, who most likely got curious and picked up the alien weapon. You see the huge pieces of building falling towards you and Derek.

You let out a scream, though you’re not sure how loud it is due to your blood loss and how tired you’re getting. You close your eyes, knowing the inevitable is going to happen, and just waiting for it. You feel the ground rumble and try to open your eyes to understand what's going on, but you can’t.

Your world goes black.

You wake up to the sound of steady beeping. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the fluorescent lights, but once you do you begin to panic. You know this is medical equipment and you’re in a room of some sort, but you’re not sure, something doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t seem like a hospital room.

You hear the whooshing of an automatic door sliding open. “It’s okay, officer. No need to panic. You are in great hands.” A pleasant British voice says to you. It does put you at ease a little.

The brunette seems to be taking your vitals or something at the moment, writing on a clipboard. You clear your throat, “Uh..where am I?”

“Oh of course,” she smiles embarrassedly, “welcome to the Bus. We’re with SHIELD. You’re safe.” she reassures.

“The Bus?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Yes,” your eyes shoot to the new voice, “welcome aboard.”

“Agent Coulson.” You try to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder stops you. You wince and lay back down.

“I assumed our meeting would be under better circumstances, but this’ll have to do.” he says with a smile. “Thank you, Simmons.” he nods at the girl and she leaves.

“What happened?”

“We heard your call on 40th.”

“Were you tracking me?”

“No,” he scoffs, “just making sure you didn’t get hurt before we got to meet you. Kinda failed at that, huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “Okay, but how the heck did I....” you trailed off, trying to think of how to word your question.

“Not die?” he looks at you, finishing your sentence.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You have Skye to thank for that. To avoid a lengthy explanation, she has the ability to ‘quake’ things apart and stopped the piece of building from falling on you and the young man helping you.”

“What happened to Derek and his brother?”

“They’re safe. And the weapon has been confiscated, now SHIELD property.”

You nodded, content with his explanations. There’s a lull in the conversation and you take the time to actually take in your surroundings. The room you’re in is glass on three sides, the fourth being a wall of shelves for medical items. You look down at yourself, not in a gown like a hospital, but someone’s tank top and shorts. You’d have to ask about that later. You focus on your shoulder, eyes going wide. It still hurts, but looks completely healed.

“Pretty cool, huh?” you look at Agent Coulson, who is smiling like a proud dad, “you’d lost a lot of blood by the time we found you. We immediately put you in the tissue regeneration pod and got it going on your shoulder. It looks healed, but you’ll have to stay in here for a couple more days and be monitored.”

“Tissue regeneration? How long was I out?”

“From when we found you to getting you to the pod, only a few minutes, but we had to anesthetize you so you wouldn’t wake up during the regeneration, so you've been out for about 16 hours.”

“Oh.” is all you’re able to say, still taking it in. Tissue regeneration. How are you supposed to comprehend that? “Thanks, I guess.”

He nods, “So are you ready to discuss your new position with SHIELD?”

Besides the man being in front of you, you had completely forgotten about your transition from NYPD detective to possibly SHIELD agent? The two of you certainly had a lot to talk about. “Yes, sir.”

#mcu x reader #marvel x reader #agents of shield fanfiction #FanFictionariesClassicTropeChallenge #aos fanfiction #MCU fanfiction #aos ff #agents of shield ff #aos fanfic #mcu ff #agents of shield

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