#youre gonna fet blocked

[warcats-cat]

Tw long post

Tw venting

If it's a trigger just assume it's here

I'm sorry, Tumblr won't let me make a read more on mobile

I had a bad day at work and I'm still upset about it so I'm just gonna vent a little and then delete this sometime later since it's past mignight for me.

_______

I work a customer service job making copies/invitations/posters and stuff and I genuinely like the work. I like different paper types and binding books with coils and heated glue and I like making posters and laminating cards and cutting invitations because I don't have to just stand in one spot or sit in one spot doing nothing all day. And for the most part I genuinely like my coworkers; they're understanding and supportive of my needs with my heart condition and being autistic.

And I do have a bunch of customers I really like. I have regulars that make me smile, and one time interactions I think about all the time.

But I just can't handle some people.

I was an hour over trying to take my lunch today, and I got snapped at by some guy (probably in his 70's, veteran hat, like a foot and a half taller than me) because I put up a sign saying I had to leave. I told him someone would come help him and he just started at.me, and then started yelling. I was an hour late to taking my medicine and standing there shaking because physically I couldn't afford to take another person walking up.

I shouldn't have had to tell him I had to go take my heart medicine. He should have respected that I said someone was coming to help him. I spent fifteen of my 30 minutes break crying and shaking even harder, because I was upset and nervous that I had snapped at a customer. My supervisors will support me, but the store manager has been so mean lately. I didn't know if I was about to get written up.

I stayed late because there was so much work to do, and I didn't want to leave it all for my coworker who I really like. It's nice to have him around, to spend time together. He's fun to talk to, older than me but kind and funny and genuine.

A customer came in to collect her order, and we knew it would be difficult because she is usually very upset; she finds something wrong with every order. But I made everything perfect; no bent corners or scratches or crooked folds. I even bundled each of the seven different types of pamphlet she had into little separate bundles, so they didn't get mixed up.

My coworker had price checked another order, and our new registers didn't clear it out like we thought. So we accidentally added the poster to the order, and ran her tax exemption card and credit card through with the extra cost.

She noticed it on her receipt seconds later.

I refunded the order, gave her a refund receipt, and when she complained that she had to turn the receipts in to her church for accounting, I pulled out my phone to calculate the correct total. She called me sloppy and uneducated. She wanted me to refund the whole order.

The new register makes me type everything in by hand to refund. It would have taken a lot of time to refund everything, then re-search her tax exemption and re-ring everything. I said it would take a long time, and I got yelled at for "not being customer focused". How dare I make mistakes? How dare I not perform for her amusement?

She began barking at me and my coworker for making the mistake.

I cried again.

She works for a *church*. Someone who is claims to know and love God. Yelling at my coworker and me like we were lesser than animals.

I struggle with my sense of religion and sense of self almost every day. I can't imagine reading the word of God in *any* capacity and behaving like that.

Again, she was older; probably fifty or sixty. I'm not trying to say everyone of that age demographic is mean to service workers, but it's definitely a trend I see in my day to day.

And if I'm going to be yelled at, it's most likely by someone who is older, or who outwardly makes their religion a part of their personality.

I love the work I do. I love the people around me. I love *people* (most of the time). Maybe I set myself up to be hurt because I have a really big heart. But it's been several hours and I'm still upset. It's more than obnoxious behavior; you're literally talking to another imperfect human being whom your God has told you to love and respect and care for; you're talking to them like they're worse in your eyes than beasts.

I'm not an animal. I'm not a robot. I'm not a monkey clicking buttons for your amusement. I'm a person.

And half the time I can't even talk to people about it; my coworkers know, they don't want to hear it. I can't get ahold of the majority of my friends. I feel like I'm bringing them down anyway when I talk to anyone.

I want to do things that I know I'll fail at, I guess.

I want to believe people are kind and loving and friendly.

I want to believe my life and my time and my knowledge has value.

But I'm so tired of being treated as if I'm nothing. I'm tired of being ignored. I'm tired of being looked down on.

I'm tired.

[bakulova]

Cutieeeeeee~

Call me a simp please.

🌈🥰🦋

(Some) HEADCANNONS-

She definelty has thoughs about kissing or doing something more with women. I imagine if you showed up to school with full outfit, hair done perfectly along with makeup she wouldnt be able to stop her mind from wandering. She imagines her self dragging you to the bathroom pushing you into a stall and making out with you there but is broken away from amazing fantasy when you are waving a hand infront of her face and squinting at her “whats up with you care?” She coughs and looks down at her hands. “Nothing... nothing at all” she looks back up at you and smiles. You softly smile back and keep talking about some idiot who stepped on your shoe. (I have accidently done this to people but hey the hallways at school are small and crowded I’m sorry. I always felt weird/scared when they would look back 🤡 so hey I’m the idiot).

In prison though she would have totally done it with women. Used them and then ghosted them the next day. Like it never ever happened. When you appear she was gonna do the same thing with you but you totally dodged her and “friend” zoned her real quick. She dragged you to her “secret” hideout that her and frieda use for their drug deals. She pulls you down and gets ontop of you leaning in to kiss you but you move your hands in front of her lips and push her back “Woah what are you doing?” You push her away from your face. She glares at you and tries again “Um denning? Its a no from me” you push her off while getting up. You smirk down at her “Nice try though” she growls, flustered and cant even make eyecontact with you. For the next few days Carol avoids you and if she can’t she glares at you with a slight blush and makes some snark remarks. Finally you had enough of her acting like a child. You grab her arm and drag her to her secret place. You push her against the wall of posters beside you burt reynolds watches the scene unfold. “What’s up? You uncomfortable at the fact that I didn’t let you get into my pants?” She doesn’t answer instead is focused on trying to keep the heat growing inbetween her legs hidden. She looks down at your lips then back up at you. You notice her change in behaviour and lean in. all goes well for carol. She got what she wanted i guess.

If you were to be friends with both frieda and carol during the betrayal. Carol would suspect you were in it. That you set her up also. Gonna leave her like frieda did. You had something against her. This would all cause her to scream and push you up against a wall in her cell. Tears starting to run down her face. She fet weak. Vulnerable in front of you. She would scream why did you do it? When are you leaving? You’re going to regret this. I’m gonna kill you. All you could do was run your hands through her hair and wipe away her tears. After a few minutes she demands you to talk. Tell her the truth. Were you in on it also? You sigh and pull her into a hug and push her face into the crook of your neck and soothingly whisper that this was all frieda. You say that you dont know where she kept her stash. And if she did betray her that you would be with frieda right now. Up the hill living the easy life. But you here with her. You pull her to her bed and lay down with her. She slowly slips into a sleepy state. You stay until you know for sure she’s asleep. You remove your arms from her body and get up to sleep in your own bed. When you finally fall alseep Carol starts feeling around for you suddenly feeling cold and feels that your missing and jumps up almost hitting her head. She looks around for you and doesnt see you. She jumps out of her bunk bed and looks up at yours seeing you were still here. She sighs but gets pissy. She quickly climbs up and throws herself inbetween you and the wall feeling nice and comfy when your warm envelopes her. You wake to a pile of blonde hair between your arms. You smile and kiss the tops of her head.

When you both are older, you become the queens of C-block. No one fucks with either of you. Carol trust you with her life and the same with you. She always asks for your opinion on things. You guys both have some disagreements but you both go over them and discuss them. When red comes along Carol becomes obsessed with her. But not in a love kinda way more like a oh she hates frieda like i do yay. So you guys spend alittle less time together than you would like but its not like you really care that much. You kinda just sit and converse with others while she talks with red. Red realizes that you aren’t really paying much attention and asks you about your history here. You shrug and gesture towards carol. “Anything she told you about her time here. I was there with her.” She nods “what about before?” Carol starts looking at you eager for you to talk. She never really learned about your life before. “I was the oldest in my family. My family was a pretty good one. Suprisingly nothing fucked up there but instead it was the people i met that landed me in here. An ex-boyfriend who I thought was the love of my life, was abusive so i killed him. Simole as that.” Red nods and plays a card while Carol stays quiet and keeps playing the game absorbing in all the information thrown at her. I think she would be a little jealous that you just told red very easily and not her. But then again she never asked. After that Carol would kinda attach herself to you. Always paying attention and Red would definetly notice and give her some advice. You on the other hand would wonder if she was ok. “Carol are you alright?” She stops talking “what?” You roll your eyes “are you ok? Why are you following me to the shower and not actually taking a shower? You should wash out all that hairspray.” She groans while frowning. “One, I’m all right. Two, fuck you” you shrug “well you’re a bad lier because you are standing right outside of the shower stall. You never do that and you’re following me around like puppy.” She moves away and sits down as if thats proving a point. You roll your eyes.

[babysizedfics]

Back at it again with a couple more HC prompts, which imma just dump in one, and you can pick which ones you want. Puddles with the kiddos, family baking sessions when both are regressed, Ro wanting attention whilst Logan is reading, so climbing all over his book, how their reactions to new stuffies differ, regressed versus non-regressed birthdays.... Etc... 👍

okokokokok buckle up everyone

Puddles:

this is the only one where i have to be like .. i don't think so :0 see virgil can get very nervous when it rains because he's so anxious about 'is it gonna storm? will there be thunder? will we be hit by lightning? will there be a flood? what if one of us slips and hurts our head??' that he just cannot relax enough to be able to jump around in puddles because 'WHAT IF I SLIP IM GONNA DIE' and the wetness on his skin sets off the wrong sensory feelings so jumping in muddy puddles is a no for him (as much as he loves peppa pig)

and roman is a fussy little thing, he may not care as much for his appearance when he's small but i think he will still be conscious enough to notice if he gets wet hair and muddy clothes - plus i feel like roman's mood is quite tied to the weather, on dark days he tends to fee a little more gloomy, ao again not sure about this especially if he wouldn't have his baby brother there with him

Baking:

OH BOY so roman is a great cook okay? like chef level he has honed his skills so that he can make romantic meals for handsome princes, but baking? nu uh, too technical, he ain't got time for that. Patton is the baker of the house and makes cookies and cupcakes way too often for Logan's liking (but secretly he loves them of course, he's just concerned for everybody's teeths) but both CGs will cook dinner when the boys are little

When the boys are regressed they're not allowed much in the kitchen anymore. after roman tried to make breakfast in bed for his CGs and started a very small but very real fire he has lost some kitchen rights (ficlet coming to you at some point perhaps) and is not allowed in the kitchen without at least one CG. even if he can switch so quickly between headspaces, he ends up either 1) too stubborn to come out of little space, or 2) a kittle bit clumsy when he comes out of it

but to make up for roman being upset by this slight loss of independence (he is a big kid after all) patton and he do weekly baking sessions! and there's always a theme. most recently they had animal crossing themed cupcakes, a little mermaid themed jello (not technically baking but roman wanted to but little fish gummies in the jelly), and... the next one is a secret because i might put it in chapter 7 (: in fact chapter 7 will feature the first instance of this tradition!!

virgil has pyrophobia (fear of fire) and so is never keen to be in the kitchen while there's food preparation going on (but he was allowed to help with the under the sea jello!!) so roman and pattons baking sessions are an excuse for mama and baby bonding time! the tradition didn't start until after virgil's separation anxiety from patton had eased up a little so luckily there's barely any tears

mama baby bonding time consists of but is not limited to: sitting on mama's lap, doing puzzles together, (vee trying to suck on a puzzle piece and crying when he's told not to), mama reading baby books to vee, vee touching all the textures and flaps in the baby books, snuggles

Ro wanting attention while Lo is reading:

this is 1000% canon!! later in the series logan will often be at work in his room and have the boys with him because patton is busy with something or another. they realise they really do need to keep working for thomas' sake but manage to integrate the boys' littlespaces into it. Eg. logan dangling baby plastic keys from one hand to amuse girgil while he's typing with the other

but when it's quiet time, when patton is in virgil's room because the baby is having a nap and papa wants to watch over him, when roman hasn't been little because he's been working or simply not in the mood earlier that day, when logan is just chilling, just reading a stephen hawking book in the living room, when he's literally just vibing, roman can and will launch himself into logan's lap sending the book flying and logan isn't allowed to tell him off because 'I'm little now! i want attention now!! hi mom!!!!'

New stuffies:

AHHHHHHHHH this this this is so so cute!!

roman never used to care much for soft toys before okay? before he was ever a little sure he appreciated disney action figures (he used them to block out scenes he wrote for theatre productions and screenplays and fanfiction) sure he always had a soft spot for Mrs Fluffybottom his childhood toy, but she always just sat on a shelf, he never fet the need to cuddle her or play with her

but when he realises he's little, when he starts playing with vee, when he sees how much vee cares about his soft animals, when patton and logan buy him a present to welcome him to the littlespace family and it's a golden teddy bear (soon to be named Aladdin) with big brown beady eyes and a satin crimson bow around its neck? yeah big kids love stuffies too

and now whenever roman is gifted a new toy (soft or otherwise) he essentially gets the zoomies!!! his brain is going a million miles a minute with all the game possibilities and with the excitement of NEW PRESENT!!! and with the happiness that his caregivers thought about him and he's been a good enough boy to deserve gifts?? yeah he's so so so excited he canNOT stand still he runs around the house for a whole hour flinging his new toy around (yeah he's a bit rough with them and there's been more than one torn limp or loose eye but he doesn't care it just shows how much they're loved!)

Now virgil: this boy is very very very emotionally attached to his stuffies. when he was a "dark side" he couldn't have much soft stuff because it just went against everything the household stood for and he couldn't risk the others finding out about how not-scary he really was, but he allowed himself a single stuffed rabbit that was easy to hide and that he loved with all of his being. it was his security blanket and his one item that could offer him comfort in a oanic attack and his only posession that he felt was true to him and not true to the scary facade he put up to scare thomas and the "light sides" into listening to him

without spoiling anything, that bunny was left in that house when he moved to the "light sides"

and in his new home virgil started collecting soft toys whenever he needed comfort. everytime he felt unwanted, every time he had an anxiety attack, everytime there was a thunderstorm predicted for the next week he would get himself a new soft toy because that was the only way he knew to comfort himself. needless to say he's got a pretty big collection now. you might think he became desensitized to new toys because of how many times he had gotten himself a new one, and you might be partly right.

that is until for the first time ever he is given a stuffie by someone else... when logan buys him a soft toy in apology for accidentally revealing his regression to everyone ((yes i am writing this fic!))

it wasn't really logan's fault, virgil should have been more aware he should have been more careful he should have hidden it all better but the logical side was guilt-ridden nonetheless. virgil hadn't expected much to be honest, the sincere apology was enough for him

but when logan blushed and shyly opened a box and handed him a black cat stuffie? virgil had to fight very very hard not to outright sob on the spot. he simply took it, thanked logan shakily, and prayed that logan didn't point out the fact that tears were falling onto the fluff of his new stuffed friend Jiji

now whenever he gets a new toy it's different than before - it's not because he's upset and needs comfort, it happens less often now but it's more special, it could be for a holiday or as a way of saying he's been very sweet or just because patton simply couldn't resist this one because look at its cute lil eyes! but each and everytime he knows when he is handed a new toy by one of his family members it really means 'i love you'

and he buries his face in its softness - it used to be to hide his tears, but now he just can't help but squeeze it tight and close and let the feeling of love wash over him

Birthdays:

yknow that episode of steven universe where steven wears a regal cape and a golden crown? yeah that's roman whether he's little or not

seriously this kid is very much the 'it's my birthweek!' type

lots of singing, lots of 'but i'm the birthday boy!!' to try to get thtings he really shouldn't be getting (like a third cookie) (and yes patton caves every single time) (patton is eventually banned from making decisions on romans behalf during his "birthweek")

there's not much difference at all between little romans birthday and big romans birthday, he's just an excitable boy whether he's a kiddo or not - this may or may not make the caregivers question whether maybe he actually was a little before virgil's regression was revealed

(irrelevant but patton definitely makes the pun 'you're a little? a little what? finish your sentences silly billy!')

virgil hates his birthday. hates it.

too much attention, too many things that could go wrong, too much pressure on it being a good day. what if his anxiety is bad that day? what if he doesn't want everyone watching him open presents? what if he's genuinely terrified that people think walking towards him with a big grin, singing at him, and carrying a cakeful of literal fire is a somehow a fun activity??

when he first moved into the house he made it very clear that he does not have a birthday so don't even try to throw him a party

naturally roman and patton were devastated, but after a failed attempt at getting virgil to enjoy his birthday they obeyed logan's request that they not try to push the idea on virgil any further

but the first birthday after they become a little family, it's a bit different

they don't push it, not at first, but virgil does wake up to patton already in his room and cooing at him adoringly , immediately sending him into his regressed headspace

then he's given a new soft toy. that wasn't so bad

then roman let him choose what disney film they watched. that wasnt bad either

then logan cuddled him for an hour and they might have fallen asleep together not noticing the smell of vanilla coming from the kitchen

then there was a new paci, a new rattle, another new soft toy, and cake cut up into tiny squares so he could nibble on it with his fingers

there was no loud singing no big surprises no bright lights or fire or anything else that he hated about birthdays

there was only love and toys and comfort. so virgil really didn't mind birthdays much after that

[wykart]

The Prodigal Daughter

Summary: The Doctor has some unfinished business on Gallifrey. She has a purpose, and the Time Lords intend for her to fulfil it. (read on ao3)

a.k.a. local girl has a crush on the 13th Doctor, a love of cosmic/psychological horror, and a fascination with the whole Doctor = The Other thing from the wilderness years novels.

Prologue

It begins as a low hum, something like background noise, something that might have always been there – so stop worrying about it. But it tugs at her with every pulse, every drawn, minute oscillation drawing its grip tighter. A calling. Come home. Soon it’s an insect against her ear. Shrill, sharp buzzing. Phantom breaths upon her neck, phantom eyes burning holes into her back. Hands reaching across the universe. 

…

 It started when she picked up the phone, housed in the compartment outside the TARDIS. It’s always a gamble, answering that phone. She doesn’t give her number out to just anybody. It could be a threat, a cry for help, an old acquaintance. This time, it was all three.

 She dropped the phone before the receiver reached her ear, swiping her hand back as if it were burned. It swung, black cord dangling, the thrum of noise from the speaker vibrating against blue wood. A pendulum, hypnotising. A captured, closely held moment of shuddering breaths, slowing hearts. She jammed the phone down and cut the call short. Too late. The words were already tattooed behind her eyes; circular spirals folding in upon her vision. She fet time press in against her like a vice.

…

 The buzz of the mobile resting on her desk seems to shake the entire room. So much for silent. Yasmin leverages herself up onto her elbows and blinks away the bleary dark, reaching a languid arm over to the phone still juddering on the plastic-painted-wood surface. Who could be calling her at this time of night, which – the digital red of her alarm clock tells her – is 1am. She’s not on call duty tonight, which has awoken her on some occasions. Usually someone sleeping rough somewhere they shouldn’t, a group of drunken teenagers, a party running too late and too loud into the night. She doesn’t exactly have any friends apart from Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor. Ryan’s got better friends to call, Graham sleeps more than any person she’s ever met, and the Doctor, well – the Doctor doesn’t call. No, the Doctor materialises in the middle of Yaz’ bedroom and starts raving about an alien marketplace that has the most extensive range of biscuits in the universe. And then makes Yaz late for work.

 Yaz taps the phone screen awake and squints at the familiar too-bright blueish light. She goes to examine the number, only, there is no number. She figures it’s some new UI update – did it even show the number before? No one can be sure of such things at this time of day, one foot still dipped into unconsciousness. She taps the green call icon and unleashes a wall of faint garbled static. Apprehensively, she presses the speaker up to her ear, rolling herself up onto her hips, back cold and bent against the headboard. The static continues, with spikes in the signal like bones pressing up under the skin. They sound like that, too – like bright bruises and the sharp flash of colour in your eye that accompanies pain. It sets her mind racing towards something that she’ll never reach. Her thoughts run on a hamster wheel, speeding up, unravelling. She can’t stop listening. The pulses become voices, warping themselves, ungainly, into some semblance of human form.

 “Hello?” she chokes. It sounds like the start of a horror movie (Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?)

 “Lord President –“ it wavers – an amalgam of voices converging to one, like it’s trying to get the sound right. “Lord President, your presence is required on homeworld.” A flash of static stabs at Yaz’s eardrum.

 “Who is this?” she says, a little louder, clearer.

 “Comply,” it echoes, warped. “Or we will be forced to –“ it stutters out into drilling noise, droning into silence.

 “Hello?” she mumbles. Finally, feebly. (Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?). The screen goes dark against the side of her face, and the sudden lack of light makes her start. Her phone is drained, completely.

 Her first thought is aliens – which, as a self-proclaimed practical sort of person, is an idea that would have made the Yaz of a few months ago balk. She would call the Doctor, except she’d never given them her number. There was never danger here in Sheffield – discounting the killer  tooth fairy and the giant spiders, which may seem like quite a lot to discount to anyone else – the danger was always out there, out in the wide universe where they sought it out. The Doctor dropped by on the weekend (barring a few exceptions), took them out for an adventure or two, and dropped them back into the middle of mundanity. Two lives. They weren’t supposed to intersect.

 Yaz half expects to hear the grating wheeze of the TARDIS materialising in the room, for the Doctor to jump out and grab her by the shoulders, exclaiming with an almost inappropriate amount of glee that there are aliens attacking the telephone network or something. That would be a more exciting outcome. Instead – as her conscious mind begins to shed the sheer terror of those noises, the not-voices, burying what it cannot comprehend – she is beginning to settle with the idea that it was just a prank call.

 Regardless, she sleeps fitfully.

 …

 Ryan hears it in the pub. The night is still young, but he can already feel a premonition of the headache he’ll be swimming in during his shift at the warehouse tomorrow. With any luck, he’ll be able to catch a few winks afterwards before the Doctor drops by. It would be very unwise to climb aboard the TARDIS with an aching head and a lack of sleep.

 His mate Ian is buying the next round. The rest of the crowd are shoved into a booth in the back corner surrounded by tall glasses in various stages of emptiness (or fullness, as his Nan would’ve said, because a little optimism never hurt anyone - he thinks the Doctor would say that too). There’s a small flat-screen TV mounted on the wood-slatted cornice, a rerun of an old footy match. The commentator’s voice and the crowings of the crowd waver dully in the background, an echo of the past. He finds his heartbeat quickening when the players draw closer to either goal, letting out stifled noises of indignation at a nasty tackle, an obvious foul. The game has already happened, of course. He could look up the teams on his phone right now and find out the final score, every detail of the game, in fact. The notion never mattered to him before, but having access to a time machine tends to have an impact on perspective. He could be there in the crowd right now. Then, he would always have been in that crowd, despite the fact that whenever it was actually played he was here in Sheffield doing something entirely different.

He has a habit of doing this, thinking in circles. It isn’t doing him any favours for his NVQ. Travelling with the Doctor feels a bit like living in circles.

 He takes a gulp of beer, feeling the foam slide up his lip. He swallows it quick, and the fizzing stops him wanting to think about temporal anomalies at all. That’s when the TV shuts off. A few half-hearted cries of indignation. It was just a rerun, after all.

 An explosion of pixels bursts across the screen, scattering crackling static – and not the usual kind. It seems to push itself from the screen, to undulate in waves with just a hinted sheen of colour. The once-muted stereo sound is suddenly very loud, and, about ten blocks away, Yasmin Khan answers a call.

 “Lord President–“ the static spews the words in a garbled mess that only seems to knit itself back together after the fact, as if reality is trying to make sense of itself, to reorder things. He definitely isn’t drunk enough for this. He doesn’t think that anyone’s ever been drunk enough for this. “Lord President, your presence is required –“ He looks around at his mates, tearing his eyes away from the cacophonic display with a morbid sort of difficulty. They’re still talking, laughing, drinking.

 “You okay Ryan?”

 “take desperate action.” the static spikes, and the clangour of it sounds like his feet on the rungs of a ladder, and the ringing sound through hollow metal as you slip…

 “Hey, mate, you feelin’ alright?” He can’t tell which face it’s coming from. He can’t even tell them apart. Dollops of clay, murmurs of a strange language lost in the noise.

  “Your weakness is known. It will be exploited.“ He feels his eyes cross and his joints wobble. If he was standing, he would have crumpled to the floor. Instead, he feels a sharp pang as his head hits the table, and cold creep across his neck where his drink has sloshed over.

 He jerks up with a start. Someone is holding his shoulder steady. He looks up, and the TV is blank.

 “Are you gonna pass out of something? You’ve only had a few drinks.” It says. He can’t quite recall the names.

 “Nah, m’alright.” Ryan grumbles, holding a hand against his temple. “Just had a long day or something.”

 “We were gonna go down the park, it’ll do you some good mate. Fresh air, you know.” Another one speaking now. 

 “Yeah.” Anything to get him out of this pub, away from… something alien, probably. Only no one else had seen it, and that was never a good sign, especially when he had a few drinks in him already. Maybe he had just had a long day. Excuses are easy to spin, and the colours are already slipping from his mind. Washed away. Only a stain left behind.

 Next up, drunken loitering. Yaz would be furious.

 …

 Graham doesn’t hear anything at all. He’s a heavy sleeper, and he likes to savour every second of it thank you very much.

 “If I’m gonna be larkin’ about on some alien world,” he’d defended, when Ryan had chuckled at his perfectly respectable bed time of 8pm, “I’m gonna need ten hours at least. It’s all very well for you to run off four hours and a couple cans of those energy drinks – which, by the way, your Nan’d have a fit if she seen you drinkin’ – but I need my shut-eye.” And it’s better than sittin’ like we used to, he’d thought. In front of the telly or reading in those big armchairs that seemed to envelop your whole body. Because he’d look up with a grin on his face and a lark on his lips, and she wouldn’t be there. At least in the dark he could almost pretend. Sometimes he could almost feel her breath on his back.

 When Graham O’Brien gets a call at thirteen o’clock, he doesn’t answer. It rings out in the kitchen while he sleeps on. But he dreams of a woman wrapped in knitted shawls and a warm, wide smile. And she’s telling him that the president is coming home.

[whyiwrite]

Partners In Crime (Sweet Pea x Female!Reader)

Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings none.

Based off of Partners In Crime by Set It Off Fet. Ash Costello

I recommend listening to this while reading: 

https://youtu.be/amTsW15GC7c

Sweet Pea and Y/F/N Y/L/N grew up together since they were born. Best Friends in their youth, lovers in their teens. They were partners in crime. If Sweet Pea was somewhere Y/N was bound to be right behind her. They were tough and badass. And death would do them part, and that was going to happen much sooner than they thought.

Sweet Pea was tired of living like trash so, with some Serpents and his girl by his side he began a crime spree, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted the money, and he wasn’t afraid. He refused to hide his identity, he wanted them to know it was him who did it. Made it more fun, right? All the running and always being with his girl. Life was perfect for him, until today.

They were robbing a Jewelry shop, something they’ve done a million times it felt like. Easy job. Or so he thought. It started like this, “Everybody freeze, nobody move.” Sweet Pea yelled as he pointed his gun at the store owner. “Put the money in the bag, or we will shoot.” You said walking behind Sweet Pea with your gun raised. The other Serpents started grabbing the jewelry and throwing it in a bag as the store owner emptied the register into the bag Sweets was holding in his hands. “Go, Go, Go.” Sweet Pea yelled as you guys took off out the building, you right in front of him. But you weren’t prepared for what would happen next.

The store owner was armed and he wasn’t afraid to shoot. He aimed at you two and hit Sweet Pea's arm, sending him flying to the ground. You yelped in fear grabbing Sweets up and pulling him to the van. But it was too late, you could hear the sirens and see the police cars pulling into the parking lot. You hopped into the back of the van and take your seat with all of the other Serpents, while Sweet Pea reloaded his guns, looking up towards his crew. “Guys, we knew we weren’t going to live forever. We knew this was going to end at one point or another. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna go back,” Sweets says turning to look at you, “I’d follow you into the ends of the earth, I’m asking for you to follow me right now.” He ends hopping up and jumping out of the van, you behind him and the serpents behind you.

The Serpents were loyal, it was one of their rules after all. They went out fashionably. The way this was going to end for you and Sweet Pea. It was kill or be killed at this time. You watched in horror as each one of your crew was brutally shot by the four police blocking your van in as you and Sweets stood behind the van hidden from the cops. “Come out with your weapons raised, we have you surrounded.” Yelled one of the cops. You looked over at Sweet Pea worried. He grabbed your hand and told you, “It’s okay.” You shook your head, “Where we gonna go?” “He’s got us pinned,” Sweet Pea says to himself shaking his head. “Baby, I’m a little scared.” You say looking over to him. “Now don’t you quit.” Sweet Pea says shaking his finger in front of your face.

Sweet Pea hops up off the ground and hides behind the passenger side door that was open, He raised his gun and fired off a shot towards the policemen, causing the policemen to fire shots back off at him. Scaring you. You watched Sweets as he continued to shoot, covering your ears. He fires off three more rounds before he returns to your side, looking down at the gun he opens the chamber (I think that's what its called) ( I don't know) and realizes he’s empty and doesn’t have any more bullets. Great.  He sits and thinks for a second before standing up and helping you up. “Remember or moto?” He says looking into your eyes. “You’ll never take us alive” You start, “We swore that death will do us part, they’ll call our crimes a work of art” Sweets says with you, “You’ll never take us alive” You say a little louder, “We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners” He says as he takes both your hands, “Partners in crime.” You both say together. Sweet Pea gives you a quick kiss before he pulls you along. “Do what I do, okay?” He says to you.

You two walk in front of the van, stepping in between the bodies of your crew. Them now dead, which you’ll soon be joining them. The cops trade looks at each other. Not expecting you to surrender. Sweet Pea gets a smile on his face and starts to laugh. You turn your head to look over at him and that's when you see the gun sticking out of the waistband of his pants. “ I love you,” He says before pulling the gun out of his waistband and aiming it at the officers. Before you could react or Sweets could fire off a shot, the cops had pulled the trigger and shot Sweet Pea through the chest. You screamed lunging for Sweet Pea but not before another cop managed to shoot you fatally through the chest as well.

You both laid out side by side in the gravel parking lot of the jewelry store of your last rob. You both had said that they wouldn’t take you alive, and they didn’t. You both had died, beside each other, with each other. The way you guys wanted to. The people who continued to hear the stories years after you and your crew were killed continued to call your crimes a work of art. As Sweets predicted. You were one of the worlds worst crews, by worst they meant best because it took them two years to finally catch you. You two were dead, there was no denying that, but your spirits were still alive. And to this day you continued to haunt the four cops who ruined your heist. Which would continue until the day they all die, so you can rest peacefully with each other. You two were the new aged Bonnie and Clyde. You guys were buried next to each other, Headstones reading “Partners In Crime.”

[babyandprincessddlgblog]

Long Distance Relationships

So you want to know more about long distance relationships...

Well, for starters, they’re not easy. They take a lot of work, diligence, time commitments, compromising, and patience. They test you in many ways, and sometimes leave you feeling alone even though you have someone.

Long distance relationships are not for everyone, and they certainly are not something to toy with, because a partners feelings are on the line. Take me and Princess for example: Princess needs that one on one relationship, the closeness, the physical touch, the sexual release of being a submissive for a dom in person. However she is also willing to make a several hour drive to see her partner, no matter the circumstances.

Baby on the other hand, is willing to have a long distance relationship (or in her current situation a long distance queer-platonic relationship), and work with her dom in order to have that bond even though the distance does not always physical meetings.

How do I know a long distance relationship is right for me, then?

Answer me this:

Are you fully prepared to go months, or maybe even a year or more without physically being near your partner?

Can you handle when they are unavailable, that you can’t always talk to them?

Do you have the time, or are you willing to make time even if your day is absolutely overflowing with tasks, to talk to them and love them and encourage them?

Do you have the discipline to save money for gas, plane tickets, and hotel rooms just to see them for a few hours or if you’re lucky a few days?

Can you go long amounts of time and remain loyal to them emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually?

Are you able to handle not being able to touch them, hold their hand, kiss their lips, play with their hair, and overall do what every other couple does?

I think I can do all those things... So what do I do?

You have a few options depending on your current situation. Maybe you’re talking to a potential dom, and you want to test the waters. Maybe you’re a single sub and you want to be actively searching. Maybe you want to be involved in the community and not worry about it. Regardless, here are a few tips for any circumstance you may be in.

1. I’m single, I like it, I just want to freely express my kinky side.

Wonderful! You know what you want and there’s a simple answer to this:

Munches. Play parties. Teaching opportunities.

Basically, there’s a website called Fetlife that has an “Events” page that shows any and all kinky events in your area. Looking for a rope class? They’ve got the link. Maybe you want to play? There’s the info on Fet. A casual pizza place munch? You bet!

By getting out into your local community, you can build up your knowledge and express yourself freely, without worrying about a commitment.

2. I want to be actively searching for a dom, but like, how??

Have no fear, Baby is here! I’ve used essentially the majority of platforms available to us kinksters to seek out true doms who want to have a great relationship with a sub. You name it, I’ve tried it: Tinder, Fet, Tumblr matchmaking blogs, straight up following doms and trying to court them (sorry GPD lolz).

Here are my tried and true reviews:

Tinder: Listen, you’re literally gonna get like 500+ fuckboys. That’s what Tinder is for. HOWEVER!! I have a hack to weed through them. Simply put a point of outside contact that isn’t your phone number (and a platform where you can block people). I use kik, so I simply put my kik username in my bio. If they’re really looking at each person individually, they’ll contact you. Most of the guys I get are total douchebags, yes, but don’t be afraid of that block button.

But, I did find Daddy through kik. He messaged me by chance when I wasn’t even looking for a dom, and we clicked, and a whole year later here we are still in a healthy cg/l dynamic with each other.

Fetlife: Basically Tinder for guys who want to be called “daddy”. You’re gonna get weirder dudes on here, but you have a bit higher of a chance to find a suitable dom. Princess found the dom she is in a dynamic with through Fet, then Tinder, then Bumble, and now they’re officially a thing.

Tumblr Matchmaking Blogs: STAY FAR AWAY FROM THESE!! The only good thing that comes from these blogs is there’s a bunch of pedophiles in one place to automatically report and block. There might be one or two diamonds in the rough, but trust me it’s not worth it. It’s mostly underage children and creepy old dudes. Just report the blogs and move on.

Tumblr Dom Blogs: These can be good, if you’re able to identify the real ones from the fake ones. A ton of “dominants” run these, and very few are actually in the community with good intentions. I’ve been looking for 3 years and I’ve only found a handful of good blogs ( @mistersbeard​ / @lovemysub​ are my favorites because they’re educational and fun). So, I mean, you can talk to doms on Tumblr, sure, but be careful and know how to identify them first.

Most Importantly: DO. NOT. GO. LOOKING. FOR. A. DOM. IF. YOU’RE. A. NEW. SUB.

I cannot stress this enough, and if you’re like me you’ll be like “lolz, literally nothing will happen, I’m a smart cookie, I can handle-” No. Seriously, this spells trouble and it will leave you a hurt little subby in the end. Learn, grow, gain experience in a safe environment, don’t think the BDSM porn is accurate (it’s not), practice consent, use safewords, and above all don’t rush into anything. A d/s relationship takes time and energy, put in a ton of both before even calling anything a relationship.

3. I have someone I’m considering to be my dom, but I don’t know how to approach it.

Something I learned that has saved me a ton of grief, is to use the consideration phase to your advantage. Essentially, don’t commit, but play into the dynamic between the person you’re considering.

Let’s say you need some help drinking more water. Talk to the dom you’re interested in about introducing a rule to better yourself. Discuss every detail of it. How much water? How many times a day? What if you don’t meet the quota? What if you break the rule and have coffee? Etc. Etc. Etc. Establish a couple low level punishments if that’s your thing. Then when you’re both comfortable, add another rule, add some rewards, add some more dynamics.

When you both feel like you want to commit a couple months, or even years, later, go for it.

A consideration phase makes everything less stressful. There’s no full submission yet unless you choose it. It’s all in your control, which it always should be, and you can shut it all down with the snap of a finger if you don’t feel comfortable.

The most important unspoken rules of LDR’s:

1. Make time for one another. Don’t send just a couple quick texts a day, a goodnight video, and call it good. Actually make time, even if you’re walking the dog or making dinner, to share little tidbits and make it feel like you’re together.

2. Send everything! Pictures, videos, emojis, gifs, stickers. Send a letter, and email, video chat, plan a day trip (if the proximity allows). Send them things that remind you of them. Discuss big things, small things, and in-between things. Make each other feel like you’re right there, but also maintain the responsibility you have to maintain.

3. Things can be sexual, or not, it’s your control. Feeling pressured to send some tit pics? Stand your ground and refuse. Feeling frisky and want to play? Discuss it and see if you can both do so/are comfortable.

4. It’s hard. Like, really hard. You love this other being so much and you just want to be near them and give them the world and that’s not always possible. But cherish every little second you get to spend with them, in person or online.

5. Be patient, and appreciate everything you give and receive. What you have is special, and it should be treated as such. It’s not everyday that you build a unique bond with someone.

Finally, a word from Daddy A:

It strengthens the emotional and mental sides greatly, but the lack of contact does suck. Essentially, a sub can be with another dominant to fulfill that, if their main is alright with it, but it goes beyond sexual release, as some may assume when looking at any format of bdsm.

The LG/DD dynamic has a bigger focus on protection and comfort by and large. We wish for our submissives to be perfectly fine with us, and thus, give us their submission. In turn, we provide the support, the nurturing and protection they desire.

Sexuality isn't inherently a part of the dynamic, but once you've become so familiar with someone, it's hard to separate into something more casual. You don't want to be spanked, you want to be spanked by your dominant.

How I see it, the distance definitely makes the bond so much stronger, leading to when you finally meet in person being a grand thing. However, it does not mean it's for everyone. You gotta be ready for the stretches of time, the worry, the anxiety and personal issues. Patience is big and openness is necessary.

On top of that, when you do possibly meet, be ready for it to not be a scene right away. Sometimes it'll just be grabbing lunch, maybe something tame where you aren't always in the head space. But, sometimes that's enough; just that, whatever it is, is what you both need to reassure that it's real and can grow. It won't be a sexual release, but both can breathe easier.

Expectations have to be tempered. Maybe you don't have a private place, maybe someone is nervous.

Even without it being a scene, the two could be huge dorks and walk past each other at a theme park despite dying to be beside the other.

[raspberrytummytickles]

New Moves and Annoying Baby Brothers

Title: New Moves and Annoying Baby Brothers Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Sam, Dean Summary: Ticklish!Sam; Dedicated to @mattsmithwhovian; Dean and Sam move to a new home and this is how they settle in.

A/N: Me and @mattsmithwhovian decided to collaborate on (actually a lot of) fics and then this beautiful piece of art came up. Hope you like it!!!

Dean dropped his bags on the floor of the small apartment they’d just arrived at. He held the door open for Sam with his foot as he looked around. There was a small living room, kitchen and two bedrooms; one with a double bed and one with two singles.

“S’better than most places we’ve stayed in,” He mumbled, partially to himself and partly to Sam who was nosing around with a frown. “At least it actually has rooms.”

“And our own beds,” Sam chimed in, grumpily dropping his bag next to the small living room table and turned to his brother. “What’re we gonna do now?”

“Entertain yourself,” Dean shrugged, shoving Sam onto the old couch before walking to one of the single beds and pulling out his phone.

Sam yelped as he landed face first into the smelly cushions. He huffed, sitting up and eyeing his older brother.

“Jerk,” He muttered, trying to fix his already messy hair. He could hear Dean’s grin as the predicted Bitch was tossed back to him. Sam glanced around the room in thought. He was bored! How could he not be? Five hours on the road sucked, though it was better than their usual. Dad didn’t even tell them what they were hunting. Sam stole a look at his older brother and amended his statement: Dad didn’t tell him about what they were hunting. Apparently, it was on need to know bases and Sam didn’t need to know.

Sam pouted lightly, trying to do as Dean said and find something to entertain him. Another look at Dean had a mischievous smile form on his face. He ducked back onto the couch, making sure if Dean looked over, he wouldn’ be able to see Sam. Dean, when he realized his baby brother didn’t answer with an equal bitchy comment, did just what Sam predicted he would do.

“Whatcha doing, Samantha?”

Sam stayed silent, glowering at the hated nickname and eased himself a bit toward the bed. Taking a deep breath, Sam jumped up and let out a battle cry, throwing himself at Dean. The older brother let out an unmanly shriek, grunting as Sam slammed on his chest. He dropped his phone in the effort to keep his chest from bruising and it ended up in Sam’s smug hands. Bastard.

“Do I win?” Sam asked, smirking proudly.

Dean rolled his eyes, glaring up at his little brother, “Give me the phone back and nobody gets hurt,” He threatened before an incredious look came upon his face. “And no, you don't win! Little brothers never win.”

Sam contemplated on what his next move would be before shrugging. What did he have to lose? He scrambled off Dean in a mad attempt to make it to the bathroom, phone still clutched in his hands.

“Can you catch me, big brother?” Sam baited, happy to receive Dean’s attention. 

Dean couldn't help the fond smile that formed on his face at his little brother’s childishness. It wasn't often that either of them got to act like kids and it seemed less and less likely for Sam, especially since learning about the supernatural six years ago. It seemed liked Sam generaly wanted to have fun and Dean relished in it, easily chasing after his little brother. He grabbed Sam by the waist, whispering in his ear, “Wrong move, Sammy.”

Sam squealed in surprise―not really surprised―when Dean brought them both down, making sure the older one got the burnt of the fall. Sam still had the phone in his hands, gulping as she looked up at Dean. Already, the bubbly anticipation filled his chest.

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to give me my phone, Sammy, and apologize.”

Sam did the mature thing and stuck his tongue out before turning his head away. Dean tried to put on a tough façade but Sam was being too goddamn cute. He chuckled at him, “Not the choice I would of picked but hey, I don't mind.”

Dean weaseled the phone from Sam’s hands, taking them under his knees. He slowly walked his fingers up Sam’s right side, building the anticipation. Sam whined and felt small giggles bubble from his mouth as Dean teased him with a, Why so giggly?

“Y-Your fahace!” Sam sassed, belly fluttering as Dean brushed lightly against it.

“I wouldn't sass me if I were you, bitch. You’re the one pinned down and oh so vulnerable,” Dean smirked, knowing form years of torturing Sam that the teasing made it ten times worse.

Sam’s cheeks heated up to a light pink and squirmed in his big brother’s grip. Dean’s words made Sam’s body feel hypersensitive, his toes already curling and hips moving in small motions form side to side. Dean continued his gentle tickling, knowing it would put Sam on edge.

“Bet the anticipation is killing you, isn't it?” He grinned, feeling particularly cruel. “I’m sure you’d just rather I tickle you and get it over with, but nope! I’m just gonna keep teasing you until you go crazy, and only than will I begin the real torture!”

Sam’s dimples poked out of his cheeks, as he gave a small snort at Dean’s words. Dean would never hurt him, Sam knew but torture would just about be the correct word for whatever his big brother was planning. 

“Poor little Sammy, got yourself into a bit of a predicament, have you?” Dean smirked evilly, pushing up Sam’s thin shirt to reveal the smooth expanse of Sam’s tummy.

“Dehehe!” Sam whined, eyes squeezing shut as his stomach was exposed to the cool air. He pulled at his hands, trying to escape, nearly yelping when Dean circled a finger around his belly button.

“How does it feel knowing you can’t do anything to stop what I'm gonna do to you? Knowing you’re so vulnerable and completely at my mercy. Bet you regret taking my phone now, don't you? Bet you’re gonna regret it even more in a minute....”

“Nohohot thehere...” Sam pleaded through his giggles. Goddamn, his brother teased him so well, he was bursting at the seems with anticipation.

Dean chuckled at Sam and finally dug his fingers into the soft stomach with all ten fingers vibrating his hands, “Not where?” He asked, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

Sam arched and loud laughter immediately echoed through the apartment, “YEHehehes you dohOHOHO! Dehehe!”

The older brother laughed with Sam, “No, really Sammy, I have no idea. I’m not even doing anything!” Dean insisted as he tickled the inside of Sam’s bellybutton―causing Sam to squeak cutely―with one hand and moving the other to Sam’s ribs. Sam tried to suck his quivering belly in but that seemed to make the sensations worse. “You’re not going anywhere until I let you go and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“TIHIHICKLES!” Sam shrieked, trying to block out his brothers teasing. His dimples grew more defined along with the flush on his cheeks. When Dean tightened his hold on Sam, the kid tried to buck him off again as the helplessness he felt was agonizing. “IHIHI‘M SOHO GOHOING TO GEHEHET YOHOHOU BAHAHACK!”

“Good luck with that. I’m way stronger than you, Sammy. You have no chance, cant say I'm quaking in my boots,” Dean grabbed Sam’s wrists and pinned them abouve his headm using one of his hands. He wiggled the fingers of his free hand threateningly above Sam’s exposed underarms. “Are you sorry for jumping on me and stealing my phone?”

Sam giggled, ducking his head and admitting softly, “Nohoho...”

The older Winchester scribbled his fingers over Sam’s armpit with a grin, “You will be soon.” He kept one hand in Sam’s armpit, quickly letting go of the kids wrists and attacking the equally exposed belly, sometimes sliding into the little bellybutton. “You just let me know when you’re ready to apologize, okay? I have aaaaaaaaall day.”

Sam shrieked with laughter, arching his body in attempts to stop the tickly feelings. Giggles flooded into howling laughter and back down again with whatever maneuver his brother tried on him.

“DEHEHEAN! IHIHT TIHIHICKLES! AHAHAHA IHIHI‘M SOHOHORRY!”

“Are you sure you’re sorry? Because I think you’re only apologizing to fet me to stop. I don't think you truly learnt your lesson.”

“EHEHE! IHIHI’M SOHOHO SOHOHORRY! I JUHUHUST WAHAHANTED YOHOHOUR ATTENTIOHOHON!” Sam blushed darker with his admission. “NOHOT LIHIKE THIS THOHOHOUGH!”

Dean felt his heart warm with love for this stupid little kid in front of him. After a few more tickles, he stopped. “You’re such a dork,” He grinned, getting up. “And you loved it, don't bother denying it.”

Sam wiped his eyes, residue giggles leaving him at least and grinned cheekily back at Dean, “At least I can admit it, big brother. We both know you like tickles too!”

“You wanna go for round two?” Dean asked, wiggling his fingers tauntingly at Sam. The kid shook his head vigorously, just the action his brother made had him giggling again. Sam forced himself to his feet and into his brother’s arms, nuzzling his nose against Dean’s chest, hand subconsciously clutching Dean’s shirt.

Dean chuckled, ruffling Sam’s hair before pulling him into a hug, “You’re such a girl,” He teased.

Sam playfully scowled at his brother and lightly dug his fingertips into Dean’s sides, keeping himself wrapped up into Dean. “Wonder who I got it from.”

Dean jumped as the fingers hit a sensitive spot and grabbed Sam’s hands with a laugh. “Don’t even try it. It’ll only end up worse for you.”

Sam pouted but nodded in agreement. Besides, he needed his strength to form a plan and get Dean back.

~Fin~

A/N: So this is the first part I guess you can say? I’m leaving the collab as different stories instead of making a series but like, I’ll tell you if it is and stuff. Anyway, I want to give @mattsmithwhovian a big thank you and hug for being the best Dean in the world (I was Sammy) and her anticipation and teasing kills me every time I read it. I LOVE YOU DUDE! 

Also, this is my first fic as a 16 year old! Yay! My birthday present to myself lol (That's really self-centered but I don't care). I hope you all loved it as much as I did!!! And don't fret, there will be multiple sequels, starting with Dean tickles!!!!

[bolontiku]

*not my images*

Avengers A/U

Steve x Bucky

“The Witness”

Part 8

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is one of the most sought after escorts in the business. After witnessing the murder of one of his clients he is forced into witness protection.

*****

BROCK RUMLOW.

He had been in the escort business since he had been 17 himself. Now almost over a decade or two later at 34 he was done. He was in the back of Thanos Escort Services, some seedy little office they had set up to look legit. Just shit as he could remember emptying out his desk.

He had come for his stash. Over five thousand of hard earned money. Now because that little shit hadnt just died like he was supposed to Rumlow was being asked about.

He bent down under his desk pulling out the chair and reaching the little secret compartment down there. Pushing aside the makeshift little door he stared dumbstruck.

“Looking for something?” Came a voice from above him.

Brock swallowed, he slowly lifted himself from beneath the desk, looking at the heavily tatted hitman. His eyes fell on the small safety box he had been looking for.

He cleared his throat. “Hello Mr. Mendoza,” he backed up looking around. He knew there was no way out though.

“Ah, so you do know who I am. You know what I do then. That you thinking you’re gonna get out of here will be easy?” The man crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.

Brock swallowed again. He had to try, he made a run for it. He cried out when two large men stepped into the doorway.

____

Scott smiled as he pushed Hill over into the booth, blocking amy chance of escape. Steve shook his head sitting across from them, T'Challa following.

Hill frowned as Scott scooted closer to her and he yelped when she pinched him below his elbow. “So,” she started, “Rumlow has gone missing, sometime last night he was seen going into his office and then he disappeared his car is still at the building. Thanos-whatever the hell.”

Steve frowned, “thats not good, we believe he set Bucky up.”

“Bucky?” She asked tilting her head to the side slightly as she added sugar to her coffee and took a sip.

Steve nodded as he grabbed his cup drinking it completely black. T'Challa frowned at him and looked away for a moment. “I meant James, Bucky is his nickname.”

Hill frowned slightly. “Don’t fet too chummy there Rogers, he is a witness and,” she sighed, “well. Just don’t get into trouble okay?

“So, what kind of trouble will this present?” T'Challa asked meeting Hills eyes.

“Well this whole thing about Rumlow is news to me. If he manuevered this so that James would be killed by our wonderful little hitman, then it would be attempted murder, Mendoza will probably walk and that means he’ll be gunning for both our guys. I’m sure he’s the reason Rumlow has gone missing.”

____

Rumlow’s shoulders ached, he couldn’t feel his forearms much less his wrists he had been hanging from all night. He couldn’t answer Freddie’s questions. Which wasn’t good cause that meant he was no good to him.

Said man stepped into the room. “Sure you don’t have anything to give me?”

Rumlow panicked as Freddie looked over his shoulder at the two men that came in with a black bag. “I uh! Those cops have been askimg about James! If I tell them I’ll talk maybe they’ll lead me to the kid!”

Mendoza smirked, he held up a hand to the two other men. “You know why I love fear? It makes men like you talk, and sometimes..you come up with good ideas when your afraid.” He turned around and began to walk out. “Make sure he is breathing when you dump him at the hospital. He’s gonna have to be able to talk.” Freddie Mendoza loved the anguished screams of those suffering.

_____

Hill came back with them. She left her vehicle behind at T'Challa’s behest. She argued with Scott in the back and Steve nearly choked when he heard…

“Get a girlfriend already,” she scoffed and was on her phone. “Yeah Hill here. Fury, no, headed to his private safehouse.”

“Working on it,” Scott answered looking out the window pouting.

She tapped Steve on the shoulder. “They found Rumlow. Apparently he was dropped off at the hospital, nearly dead but asking for me. I was the one handling him remember? Yeah, keep several units on him at all times, do not let anyone in to see him before us. No, yeah I’ll be headed in.”

T'Challa turned the vehicle around, following her directions to the hospital. ‘Finally,’ Steve thought. They would be able to get somewhere with this.

*****

A/N: stories moving along! Let me know what you think? If you wanna be tagged, send me a message or ask, or leave a comment! Thank you as always for reading my bit of insanity!

Taggin my darlins:

@shamvictoria11 @hellkat2 @the-great-irene @mo320 @tessab154 @ryverpenrad @magellan-88 @marveldcmistress @lostinspace33 @wildestdreamsrps @nenyakj @crownie-sr @aquabrie @tamianich @learisa @dustycelt @yknott81 @everybodycriesonce @thecupcakeconsumer @thekayceenicole @musichowler @frenchfrostpudding @thatweirdgaygirl @devildears