but he simply did not have the right sort of resources now did he

The “Just the thought of Team Cap walking all over Tony makes me want to trash my room, I just want unashamed, biased, pro-Tony quality content, is that too much to ask??” inspired ficlet I’ve been holding back for a while:

Bitterness ahead, guys. Not Team Cap friendly. Nor is it particularly deep or rational. I just wanted to get a couple of thoughts out of my head. Basically Tony is done being the team’s sugar daddy, only it comes to light in a very roundabout way. 


“When are my arrows gonna be fixed anyways?” Clint grumbles, rubs a hand over his sore shoulder. The one that wouldn’t have gotten injured, had his shot hit the target it was supposed to. Which it should have, his aim had been fine. The problem were the arrows. Someone must have screwed up somewhere in the production because they weren’t perfectly balanced.

They’re sitting in the conference room at the (mostly) restored compound. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad, not even bothering to look up. He must have felt the questioning glances and noticed the silence, but he still doesn’t react.

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to encourage the tension between them, things are bad enough as it is. If only Tony would put in some effort as well, instead of going out of his way to antagonise them, maybe they could make some actual progress.

“Yo, Stark!” Clint snaps, voice reaching that biting sharpness he reserves specially for the billionaire. “I’m talking to you!”

Tony shows no outward reaction, which is strange to see. Back when they first came back, he used to move at all times, sharp and erratic, never staying still. Steve shakes his head at their unnecessary power play.

Tony answers before he has the chance to reprimand them though. “How would I know?” he asks, a brief frown flittering across his face as he scribbles something down onto the tablet.

The outraged look on Clint’s face tells everyone present that this meeting won’t get back on track any time soon. It’s understandable, really. Clint has been forced to fight three battles with faulty equipment and frankly, the lack of concern Tony is showing for his team mates’ safety is nothing short of callous. Steve knows things haven’t been good between them but this is the first time he wonders if things could really be so bad, that Tony would hold necessary equipment back on purpose.

It’s a terrible thought, but try as he might, Steve isn’t able to shake it off.

At least the rising tension finally causes Tony to look up and meet Clint’s glare. He’s wearing sunglasses even though they’re inside, like he always does. Steve doesn’t like it. Makes it harder to read Tony, to tell what he’s really thinking. Absently, he admits that this is probably why Tony wears them so religiously.

“What do you mean ‘how would you know’?!” Clint snarls, enraged. “My arrows have been acting up for weeks and you still don’t know how to fix it?!”

Tony stares at Clint, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, after a long, long moment of heavy silence, the answer.

“I’m not fixing your equipment.”

For a moment, it’s deadly quiet, as Steve struggles to process the meaning of what Tony has just said.

“Tony,” Steve hastily inserts himself as soon as he finds his voice again, before Clint can throw himself across the room and deck him, “I know there are still some issues we all have to work through, but that’s not an excuse to-”

“Hold it right there, Rogers,” Tony interrupts. It’s never Cap, always Rogers these days. The pain the distinction causes still catches Steve by surprise more often than not. “I’m not sure where you get this from but I’m not your mechanic. I don’t work for you. So if Barton here has an issue with his weapons, he needs to take it up with the people in charge. Considering how often you remind me that it’s not me, you’d think you’d have figured that part out already.”

“But it’s not working!”

Tony sighs. The deep, heavy sort of sigh you usually expect from an exhausted parent after their insistent child asks, “Are we there yet?” for the 34th time. “Then take it up with the quartermaster. Or Agent Hudson. Or one of the techies. Seriously, Barton, you signed the Revision. Who’s responsible for what is right in there, section 12 to 17. Besides-” he pauses.

“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Clint demands between gritted teeth, hands curled into tight fists. Thankfully, he’s not throwing anything. Yet. “Don’t get shy with me now!”

Tony straightens in his seat. Steve inwardly sighs. That man has never been able to let a challenge go unanswered.

Besides,” Tony continues, voice still surprisingly even, “chances are they’re working just fine.”

“You think I can’t tell when my bow isn’t fucking working the way it should?” Clint bristles.

The words actually cause Tony to lower his sunglasses for a moment, just to make sure there is no doubt about how stupid he believes Clint to be. “I’m saying you’re operating with a standard bow, Barton. The fabric and the construction limit the performance quality. Something I’m sure an experienced archer like yourself has picked up on.”

And yes, things are definitely getting ugly. That level of glacial cold in Tony’s voice is rarely achieved, even now.

“The why the fuck did you build a subpar bow?”

Tony sighs again. “You’re missing the point. Seriously, I can not believe we’re even having this conversation. I did not build that bow, Barton.”

And that’s–that’s a surprise.

Tony’s gaze trails over them all, taking in their confused, shocked expressions. “Really?” he asks, exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Did any of you even read the Revision? The Avengers’ are an official unit. Their weapons and uniforms can’t be provided by a private party, especially not one who is part of the team. Have you ever heard the term conflict of interest?”

“What about Stark Industries?” Natasha asks. From the furrow in her brows though, Steve suspects she already knows the answer–and doesn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” and now there’s no mistaking the mocking in Tony’s tone, “but SI doesn’t sell weapons anymore. It was kind of a big thing, couple of years back.”

“But- But yours are better!” Clint splutters. It sounds plaintive and weak, even in Steve’s ears, but at the same time he knows what Clint’s struggling to say. It’s not about getting your toys taken away. It’s about their safety and efficiency in the field. On bad days, it’s about the survival of their entire planet.

“I can’t believe you would risk the teams’ lives and safety like this because of a petty argument,” Steve says, unable to keep quiet any longer, nor bothering to hide the honest disappointment.

Tony, unimpressed as always, simply snorts. “You’re an official unit, but before that you’ve been working for SHIELD for years. Did you ever have the very best equipment mankind was capable of providing at the time? No,” he answers his own question in a breeze, “you didn’t. Why? Because you’re agents, soldiers. And sure, the government wants to protect us, wants to keep us alive and make sure our missions succeed. But they have limited funding, which means everyone has to deal with the best cost-efficient option available. If you’ve got the right connections to get something more, then lucky you, but that makes you an exception, not a rule.”

“You don’t need to explain real life to me!” Clint snaps aggravated.

“Then why do you feel entitled to something better?” That question, sharp and cutting, makes the archer still, his mouth open but with no retort forthcoming. Tony is blinking at him now, head tilted sideways in child-like curiosity.

“Of course, if I, as a private citizen, decided to build something that doesn’t violate any laws and give it to a friend as a gift, that would be something else, wouldn’t it?” Tony continues after a moment, voice softer now, but no less cutting. His eyes are fixated on Clint, sunglasses pushed back, eyes dark and unmoved. “The average update would take me what, a week or two? That’s a lot of time to invest into a single project, especially when the ultimate use is so limited. How many people can possibly profit from improved protective vest versus how many people improve from an exploding arrow is a really fascinating comparison to make.”

“So you see, Barton, even if I could improve your bow, there’s no logical reason why I should waste my time like this.”

“Tony!” Steve interrupts, scandalised. “Clint’s life depend on his aim! Our lives depend on it! How can you justify not providing him with the most basic necessities.”

Tony doesn’t even try and look abashed, instead he throws his head back and laughs. “This is how you want to play it, Rogers? Because I’m rich and a genius, I owe it to you to devote my time, attention and money to bettering your lives? What about the seven billion other people on this world? Don’t they deserve the same consideration, hm? What makes you so special that I should put your needs before anything else?”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony doesn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I tell you what this is: this is you realising I’m no longer spoiling you rotten because you are in fact not my kids and I can cut you off whenever the fuck I want. And you don’t like it. Because guess what, I may be privileged, but so are you! You’re heroes, most of the time, as far as the world is concerned. You’ve been living off my money and resources on top of that. You’ve always gotten special treatment and you like that. You’re as far detached from the ‘ordinary man on the street’ as I am, you just don’t have the self-awareness to fucking notice!”

Tony sends them a sardonic smile that does in no way take the sting out of his words. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll still be special. It’s just no longer my name footing that bill. Because we’re not friends. And as a business man, I’m not at all sorry to tell you that you simply aren’t worth investing into.”

And with that he stands, all blinding press smile, sweeps around dramatically, and strides purposefully out of the room. The automatic door closes noiselessly behind him, but he might have as well slammed it shut for all the difference it would’ve made.

It’s likely not a coincidence, that on their next mission Spiderman, Vision and Miss Marvel all showcase new, incredibly features and weapons that can’t have been created by anyone else. And it’s impossible to know for sure, what with the mask on, but Steve is one hundred per cent certain that Spiderman is smirking at them.

He is not wrong.


Let me know what you think? And please excuse any mistakes, I’ll re-read this tomorrow. Also this is the last post for today. I’m tiredtiredtired now and think I’ve spread enough bitterness for the day. And spammed your dashes with enough endless posts probably…oops.

savethelastklance  asked:

Hey if you're still accepting prompts, can I ask for a fic where polydins are a thing and they go to a planet where everyone on there wants lance and it ends up with the rest of the paladins and allura just get so possesive (please include a scene where keith litterly hisses like a cat at someone).Congrats on all the followers!!!!

I’ll be accepting prompts for the rest of the week, so don’t hesitate to send more prompts my way if you think of any later on. :) thank you for the prompt btw!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“now, everyone remember. we are here to gain a new planet in our alliance. which means we have t be on our best behavior throughout our stay. that means no flirting with diplomats or challenging their guards.” Allura gives a pointed look towards both the red and blue paladins, one of which just so happen to be avoiding eye contact. Lance on  the other hand acts distraught over the accusation “Allura! you know i only flirt with my boyfriends and girlfriends now. i would never break their trust like that.” the over dramatic from their boyfriend helps ease the tension in everyone, and a few of them can’t help but chuckle at Lance’s theatrics. “ alright, alright. just make sure that you all treat the species with respect, please.“ everyone nods their heads in agreement , a much lighter atmosphere hanging around them, ready to add another planet to their alliance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

once the castle touched down on the planet, the team waits by the grand entrance, standing behind Allura as she thanks the king and queen for allowing them to stay on their planet, and wishing for an alliance between them. the team each have their helmets on to keep up appearances as professionals, but secretly they’re all whispering into their headsets about how different yet similar these aliens look like humans. they have somewhat of the same build as most humans, although the four arms are a definite difference between them. but also, their skin coloring is very widely ranged. some of them look as pale as Shiro and Pidge, and they even spot some with much darker coloring like Hunk. and then there were some that just really different; some were light blues or a pale greens and some pinks and reds.  it was really mind boggling to see both skin colors that they’re so used to and then see another being with green skin.

“and now may i introduce the Paladins of Voltron!” Allura snaps all of them back to the present, introducing them to the crowd of on lookers. Shiro takes his helmet off, and down the line, everyone takes their helmets off. Lance is the last to take his helmet off, and its as though the mood changed slightly once his face was visible to everyone. it was pretty weird, but the team tries not to let it get to them. they have to stay professional while their here. besides, its probably nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was definitely not nothing. every chance they got, diplomats would either shove either eager children or even themselves into Lance’s face and they would not so subtly flirt with him to no end. not that Lance exactly turned them away, trying to be civil and not insult any of them. it seems that Lance’s skin color is something entirely new to this race, and thinking back, none of the others really saw anyone with Lance’s skin tone. and that made him highly sought after by any of the diplomats or their daughters or sons. even the king and queen daughter had made a pass at Lance more than once.

the team tried to not be possessive about their boyfriend, not wanting to botch this alliance, but one by one, they each reached their breaking point. not that Lance really mind, it was nice to know that his boyfriends and girlfriends can get so jealous and possessive. and to be honest, it was getting to be too much even for him. so he wasn’t complaining  whenever one of his loved ones would pull him away from an overzealous diplomat trying to ‘woo’ him.

the first of he team to reach their boiling point was Pidge, who sat down between lance and a very handsy duke (he literally had at least half of his hands on Lance since he introduced himself to him) when the duke tried to get Lance to sit right next to him. and anytime the duke tried to flirt with him or reach a hand out to him, Pidge would intercept him by obviously taking Lance’s hand in her own or talking over him when he tried. of course she would always ‘apologize’ each time, mostly because Allura would give her a bit of a scowl for being ‘rude’ to their hosts, but no one called her out on it, all very thankful of their girlfriend’s actions.

the second to lose their cool was Keith, which wasn’t all that surprising. it was after the feast, and everyone was dancing in some sort of dome ballroom. one of the daughters that has been hovering around Lance had dragged him into dancing with them. and that in itself wasn’t all that upsetting. it was that Keith had overheard one of the other girls talk about how this specific song and dance was a sign of declaration of love in their culture (not that lance knew, he just kind of mimicked what he saw other doing). that is what set Keith off; he stormed over to them and pulled them apart. the girl was not happy about this and tried to reach back for Lance. Keith latched onto her hand and whipped around and actually hissed at her. she immediately backed off, and Keith pulled Lance away from the dance floor. he looped their arms together, making sure that Lance didn’t dance with anyone besides the team.  of course Allura ad to apologize to the girl about Keith’s behavior to her and try and smooth over any ruffled feathers. but Shiro wasn’t complaining, he even slipped in a high five to Keith.

the next one was Hunk. it was the next day and everyone had hoped that their hosts would catch the hint that Lance wasn’t really single. unfortunately, it seems that none of them did. it was early in the morning, and while everyone was groggy with sleep, some duchess was able to steal a seat next to Lance, who was probably the only morning person of the entire team. no one really paid mind to it at first, since she wasn’t overly blatant about her interest in the blue paladin. that is, until the morning meal was served. that’s when the duchess constantly tried to feed Lance from her own plate, always proclaiming how delicious their food was. Lance always politely declined, but the duchess was persistent, and no matter if it was already on Lance’s plate, she would try and feed him. that’s when Hunk probably did the most outrageous thing possible. he leaned over lance and ate off of the duchesses fork, much to everyone’s surprise. Hunk looked her dead in the eye and simply told her that the food is delicious and sits back down on the other side of Lance going back to eating from his own plate silently. what no else saw was that lance patted Hunk’s leg under the table in as a silent thank you.

 Shiro and Allura were the last ones to finally break after the last two days of having to watch Lance being flirted with constantly. it wasn’t that surprising that they had the most self control, but to be honest, if the others hadn’t intervened when the did either of them would have done the exact same thing. but it was when they had secured  the alliance with the planet and were packing up all the food and resources that the queen had gifted them, and Lance was pulled aside and was talking with the Princess of the planet, she seemed to have taken a liking to Lance, which after how everyone else on this planet have been trying, it was almost normal. that is until Allura saw the princess trying to back Lance into a corner. still trying to be polite, Allura called over to Lance to help them carry the boxes back to the castle. lance tried to slip out of the corner, apologizing halfheartedly about the team needing him.

that’s when she blocked off Lance’s escape and planted her lips on his.

in front of the entire team.

and it seems that the princess wasn’t going back down so easily.

and that didn’t sit well with any of them at all. but it was Allura and Shiro who took action. Shiro pulled them apart and let Allura deal with her. he spun around and checked over Lance, making sure that he was okay and that she didn’t try anything else they didn’t see. meanwhile Allura was putting the princess in her place, telling her off for not only forcing herself on one of the paladins of voltron, but also breaking their trust with her by doing such a thing. the princess seemed to realize how much she screwed up and begged that they don’t break the alliance with their planet. Allura looks back to Shiro and Lance, her eyes silently asking if Lance was alright. it looks like he was a bit shaken, but was alright. Allura merely said that the alliance wasn’t in jeopardy but it would be best if she learned the meaning of consent before they ask for Voltron’s help. with that Shiro gathered Lance in his arms and walked off with Allura following close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it wasn’t until the castle had left the solar system and everyone had crowded themselves into Allura’s bed that Shiro finally loosened his hold on Lance, letting everyone else cuddle close on the large bed.

“you okay Lance?”

“yeah, it just kinda freaked me out when she did that.”

“you sure she didn’t do anything else? because if she did I’ll-”

“I’m sure Mullet. she didn’t even get a chance to turn it into anything more before Shiro and Allura came over.”

it was silent for awhile, everyone letting the calm soothe their frayed nerves. since it was so quite, everyone could easily hear Lance whisper  “thanks you. all of you.”

‘for what?” pidge asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

“for helping me with all of…that. you guys are the best. even when your jealous and over pretective.” that last comment got Lance an elbow lightly jabbed in his side, only making him laugh at the little effort put into it.

“you don’t need to thank us for helping you out. you’re our boyfriend. as if we’re going to let someone make passes at you without getting mad.”

lance chuckles again at the blatant trust and love and faith that his team. his boyfriends and girlfriends put in him. he got pretty lucky getting the best relationship ever. he would never give it up so easily. and he’s glad to know his team wouldn’t either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tada! there you go! i hope you like this! thank you so much for the prompt again, i had a lot of fun writing this!

Radiating towards you

Title: Radiating towards you

Pairing: Castiel x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Warning: mostly fluff, some jealous!Cas and some hurt!Dean

Request: Cas x mate!reader please! Maybe where reader helps care for Dean after a rough mission and cas gets jealous because she’s his mate but he hasn’t told her yet. Thanks xxx

(A/n: Hope you like it, anon. || Gif’s not mine)


Originally posted by magneticcas

“Can you stop fidgeting for five seconds?“ Dean asked annoyed as he made eye contact with the angel through the car’s rear mirror. It was one of the rare occasions Cas actually decided to come along in the Impala instead of just zapping there. Mostly because it would give him a chance to sit next to you on the backseat for a couple of hours, enjoying your presence. He always felt drawn to you, as if his whole existence was radiating towards you. Something that had puzzled him a lot in the beginning, but soon made sense. As unlikely as it first seemed that he found his human, his one in a million, so close to the friends he considered his second family, it was really as simple as that. You were his mate.

“I’m just uncomfortable” Cas replied giving Dean a stern expression back “My wings feel cramped.”

“I’m sorry my car isn’t luxurious enough for your holy assets” Both Sam and you snorted while Dean just kept glaring “Just fold them up or something. Make them travel-size.”

Keep reading

Without You: Bloodstone (Part 2)

Genre: AU, werewolf, fantasy, angst

Warnings: language, violence, suggestive content

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Werewolves, contrary to popular belief, are usually gentle creatures. Except for a very specific set of circumstances, they would never hurt a human (on purpose). The few unfortunate times when mistakes were made put a permanent dark mark on the beasts and people began labeling them as monsters. What the human population failed to recognize was the fact that they were protecting us from something much more sinister. Luckily, a few survived and the gene was passed down hereditarily until one day finding its way to me… in the form of my best friend.

Link to: Storyboard (reference pictures) | Prologue | Previous | Masterlist | Next

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

Loyalty is often as blind as justice should be, as unstable as a lightning storm ought to be, and as misplaced as an opinion in the truth.

Chapter 2:

My companion, speechlessly angry for the first few minutes of our journey, guides me through the forest with the same uncanny ability Jungkook had started to display a few years ago, making me question whether or not she was one of THEM too.

Against my better judgement, I follow her without question, concern for my friend paramount in my mind, making me disregard my own safety. Then again, why would she go through the trouble of saving me if harming me was the ultimate goal? In retrospect, I still should have been on my guard, as stranger things have happened, but that doesn’t change the fact that I trust Munhee wholeheartedly.

Eventually, she calms down enough to pause, slowing to let me catch up, and quietly says, “I’m sorry I snapped. This will probably be just as difficult for you as it is for him.”

“What do you mean, Sunbae?” hesitance laces my question, denial still thick in my veins.

Munhee sighs, lifting herself on top of a fallen tree trunk, “Jungkook… I think he might have imprinted on you.”

My eyes bug and I almost fall, hands scraping against the rough bark before I’m able to steady myself and comfortably straddle the obstacle, entire body suddenly succumbing to a hot flash, “And what does that mean?”

She gives a small laugh, “It’s not as bad as you think. Forget what all the romance novels say. Imprinting is all about implicit trust. Wolves automatically attach to the first thing they smell after the initial transformation. Usually, it’s supposed to be another wolf. This helps with training, socialization, and the transition in general.”

“But I’m… I’m not-”

“A wolf,” she finishes what I can’t seem to get out of my mouth, “No, you’re not, but neither am I.”

This implies that she’s in a similar situation and, given the amount of those creatures that ran past us in the clearing, it’s not hard to imagine something might have gone wrong at some point. Whatever the case, knowing for sure that she’s human makes me a little more comfortable.

She drops down, offering me a hand, “I’ll try to keep the explanation simple for now. If Jungkook DID imprint on you, you’ll have two options. First, you can simply be a resource nearby, just in case anything goes wrong. This will cause him immense amounts of psychological stress, but it’s nothing he won’t get over in a few years. You’ll also be free to come and go… mostly.”

A few YEARS?

“Second option, you stay with him. This will make the transition much less traumatic for Jungkook, but you won’t be able to leave for a few days. He won’t hurt you, but he’ll try to kill anyone who comes near you. Still, again, this is only IF he’s imprinted on you.”

The image of the creature lunging at Munhee after she helped me get up in the Hepatica field comes to mind and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach.

“Almost there,” Munhee encourages as the trees around us thin, bleeding into a town that is completely devoid of human life. She continues walking, leaving me a few meters behind as I take in the ghostly scene. Traditional houses litter a ground that had clearly once been crisscrossed with dirt roads, which have dissolved into weed infested fields. Most of the buildings are not even standing, but those that are must be on some form of non tangible life support, so frail that I wouldn’t dare BREATHE inside of one.

“Come on,” she calls without looking back, but the lack of irritation in her voice is reassuring. “We don’t bite.”

Keep reading

FAMILY BUSINESS {part 6 of HIGH RISK}

Walking into your office on the first floor, you looked around. Everything was the same, you let out a sigh as Tae sat down across from you. You okay? He asked and you looked at him.

What the hell do you think? The girl thinks I’m a whore. You scoffed. Tae laughed.

Eh, well at least she doesn’t think you are my psychiatrist. But I have told that guy not to bring her, she always causes trouble. He murmured and you laughed.

I will never understand this life. You responded and Tae shrugged.

I grew up with all of this, so it’s pretty normal to me. Your life is the boring one. He said and you rolled your eyes.

So you grew up in that kind of family? You asked and he nodded.

My grandfather taught me everything I know. We spent ages playing cards, my dad wasn’t the best at counting, so they focused on me. I guess I was a prodigy of sorts. So my dad ran the casinos and my grandfather introduced me to the game. I spent lot of time watching my grandfather. Tae had a small spark in his eye, like a child seeing a piece of candy. You watched him smile slightly as he spoke about his grandfather. A part of you wanted to reach for your notepad, but you restrained.

You seem to be close to him. You responded and Tae nodded.

I was, he passed away a few months ago. Last time I saw him was at one of these events actually. You looked at him with an open mouth.

You did not do this before I came to the house right? You asked and Tae looked at you with pure puzzlement.

Why wouldn’t I? If I have the resources, I feel like I would be giving up if I didn’t do anything. He laughed as you tried to form words.

You should be giving it up! It’s illegal! You spoke loudly, but Tae held up his hands to quiet you.

Didn’t you see? It’s kind of addicting once you’re in it. These people, they crave it, they don’t care if they lose their money, as long as they have fun while doing it. And I reap the benefits. You looked down at the gown and looked around. Your boring desk job did not sound entertaining compared to the roar of laughter downstairs. You sighed. The truth was hitting you, what you had prided yourself on was how good you were, but tonight you had more fun than any other night out before.

Ugh. It is kind of addicting. You murmured and Tae smiled.

Right?! He exclaimed. There was a knock on the door and Yoongi walked in with the rest of the group.

How are you? He asked and you shrugged.

I’m okay, just a little confused. She thought I was either really rich or some whore. You told the group and they chuckled. Tae sighed and looked at Yoongi.

This is why I didn’t want her here. She can’t be associated with this, what if Mi Ha does something next time? He questioned his elder who simply shrugged.

We got people to make sure that doesn’t happen. Yoongi responded and snapped his fingers, the guards nodded and began ushering people out of the room.

Under my calculations we can triple our profits if we stay open for another couple of nights. Jin spouted off and your jaw almost hit the floor yet again. Yoongi chuckled as he looked over at you.

Can’t believe the money or that we are still really good criminals? He jeered and you smacked his arm. Tae looked between the two of you and huffed.

Well, Y/N won’t want us to keep it open now that she knows. Tae mentioned and looked over at you, his puppy dog eyes seemed to plead with you. The guys all watched as you thought everything through.

As your supervisor, I should advise you not to continue this action. You watched them all deflate, and a little part of you spoke up. Tonight you had learned more about all of the guys just from observing them in their natural habitat, maybe if you continued to watch it could help you do a better job. But maybe a couple more nights won’t hurt us. You added and all of the guys looked at you with surprise, Tae’s eyes went wide.

You mean it? You are approving this stays open? He asked and you nodded.

Yoongi looked on and shook his head. He knew what he was seeing, you were falling in love with the lifestyle, just like all of the guys had before. You just didn’t realize it yet, he wanted to object, he wanted you to stay pure, but a part of him liked this side of you. He watched as you interacted with Tae and smiled. He had never seen the gambling prodigy take so much interest in a girl, he usually wouldn’t close down his casino because some girl was being harassed, so all of the events tonight were a first. Yoongi chuckled once more as the guys all excitedly spoke about tomorrow’s casino night and began sending out the encrypted invites. Yoongi sent a quick text out to Tae.

Meet me in my room. – MY

And with that, Yoongi left the buzzed and enthusiastic group in the office. Gracefully walking up the staircase and into his room. He waited for Tae to arrive.

 Author’s Note: I’m kinda falling in love with Yoongi in this series even though it’s Tae’s series … Just something about the helpful hying type haha

anonymous asked:

One thing I was thinking about: many people paint canon!Azula as some sort of murderous psycho... but even at her worse, on the day of her coronation, she never murdered anyone. Instead, she banished them. That means Azula is NOT instinctively murderous. She's instinctively authoritarian, but her constant death threats along the series are just that: threats, that she would likely never follow up.

I am not sure if I ever used this as an argument in her favor. If I didn’t do it it’s because I forgot to, but I remember having thought this exact same thing. I agree with you 100%, Anon.

Not only does Azula not harm most people whom she takes captive (which rules out the sadistic torturer facade people keep forcing into her character), but even as she loses her mind, she’s not ready or eager to kill her servants or guards. She banishes them all, and it’s not exactly a great idea either, but she makes them leave instead of executing them or something.

And let it be known that she could easily want to kill people, because she did shoot Aang full of lightning and expected him to be dead , right? But she doesn’t choose to kill any of the people she banished. In fact, I don’t think killing them crossed her mind as a real possibility to begin with. She doesn’t even tell the first servant that she ought to execute her for her mistake, she says the crime was severe but that since it’s a special day she’ll show mercy (meaning, she knows she can kill but she chooses not to). It’s easy to imagine that, since her irritation only continued to escalate that day, she might have resorted to a more final punishment than banishment when dealing with the Dai Li, or with Lo and Li. Yet nothing. She never resorted to her political power to kill anyone. As you said, she doesn’t murder people willy-nilly: it’s not her immediate impulse. 

Now, of course, people will counter our arguments here with “But she DID try to kill Zuko in their Agni Kai!”

… She actually was trying to shoot Katara, but that’s not the point xD

We can’t lose sight of the fact that her problem with Zuko was far more personal than the ones she had with most anyone (perhaps only with the exception of her mother). She blames Zuko for everything she has lost and from what she can see, he’s here to take the last thing she has left, the throne her father has handed down to her. 

Azula isn’t going to let him take that too, and if killing him is what needs to be done to stop him, she’s ready to do it. But let’s take a look at some interesting evidence…

This is when Zuko falls in the Southern Raiders, on the very episode where she first threatens to kill him. She’s not exactly jumping up and down with joy here, after Zuko falls while fighting her. Either she knows he’s not dead here (which is hard to say, considering he was just falling from ridiculous heights and with no salvation in sight…), or she just doesn’t REALLY want to kill her brother and thinking he’d plummet to his death really brought her no relief or joy or any enjoyable feelings. I guess everyone’s free to pick the narrative that suits them better.

But there’s something else I need to say…

During the Agni Kai, Azula KNOWS Zuko isn’t dead after she shoots him full of lightning.

She tells Katara she’d rather the family physician looks after Zuko, doesn’t she? She might have said something a little more morbid than that if she was absolutely certain that she’d killed her brother. Maybe the family mortician would look after him instead, or she would have told Katara that Zuko’s funerary pyre would be lovely or something equally awful, right? But no. She says the family physician should look after Zuko. Huh.

This makes me think she knew her attack hadn’t been lethal, or that she noticed he partially redirected it. I also think lightning isn’t always lethal (some people even say she didn’t even kill Aang in Book 2, so that as well supports the theory that lightning may not be instantly or inherently murderous). Sure, both Aang and Zuko needed Katara’s magic water to fix them after they were electrocuted, but Aang needed the special oasis water: Zuko doesn’t. Is it because of the partial redirection? Probably. But since he still moves a bit and whatnot, Azula knows she didn’t kill her brother. 

But instead of trying to finish him off? She fights Katara and leaves Zuko writhing where he is. Simply put, she doesn’t NEED to kill him and she knows it. She just needs him out of her way.

So indeed, I think Azula didn’t want to kill: Azula wanted to win, and yes, she was ready to do whatever it took to take absolute victory. Even at her worst, as you said, her immediate instinct isn’t to kill: that’s something she can do if need be, but it’s not the #1 resource she relies on to finish off her enemies or something she enjoys doing. Else she would have likely killed heaps of people throughout the show because she had LOTS of chances to do so. As you said, she issued threats after threats that she NEVER follows through with. The only almost-deaths she delivers are Aang and Zuko’s, and in the end neither of them died for real.

Simply put: Azula is not a murderer, never was.

Less Resistance, More Dalliance

[Author’s Note: This story is a sequel to Resistances and Dalliances and should be read in that order to make sense.]

Chapter 1: Sparkling Darkness

“Pathfinder,” a woman’s voice said behind Ryder, and she tore her eyes away from the stunning view of the swirling clouds of the system. She found herself staring at the angaran information analyst she had roped into working for her a week ago; Yara, Ryder recalled name. “That report you wanted?” Yara proffered a datapad.

Ryder smiled slightly and nodded in dismissal as she accepted the pad. Reading rapidly, she spoke before Yara was fully out of the door. “More Roekaar recruiting on Voeld? I thought they’d abandon that long since,” Ryder frowned.

Yara paused. “They’re certainly persistent,” she allowed, “but by now everyone knows how they were fooled. They are no longer the threat they once were… or the inspiration.” Her misty green eyes were clear with a conviction that Ryder could only interpret as loyalty.

Keep reading

April Showers Bring What Again?

“On the one hand, shopping is dependable: You can do it alone, if you lose your heart to something that is wrong for you, you can return it; it’s instant gratification and yet something you buy may well last for years.” Judith Krantz

*

When his powers had first manifested Jackson Overland had not in his wildest dreams imagined they would lead him here.

At most he had figured he’d be transferred to a cold storage facility, or a cryogenic stasis unit. He had eagerly registered his elemental ability with the goal of a higher wage and better benefits for himself and his family. Maybe move somewhere out of the lower city levels, somewhere high. An apartment with a view that didn’t include the next building’s wall and waste storage.

Now he was opening his own store.

His, not a franchise location, not a corporate office, not a temporary crisis building. All his.

He looked at his twenty employees, his employees, gathered at the entrance, the sliding glass doors polished to invisibility, and couldn’t feel his face for the amount he was grinning.

“Tomorrow is opening day.” he said, though the countdown on the tack board behind him had been saying so since this morning, “and I can say that I have never had a team work like you. I know it’s not what most of you were hired for, but you all came through as a team and did an absolutely fantastic job putting this store together.”

They didn’t share his joy, he knew. They were hourly employees, with lives and responsibilities of their own, and this was just a job, but he didn’t blame them for that. Thirty years ago working in the factories he had been the same, two years and three months ago when he had handed in his resignation as the manager of a small unit in the Department of Climate Control he had been the same. Just another clock punching, hour counting, putting in the work for someone else employee. Until he had finally struck out on his own.

“I know there have been setbacks, the tropical department’s humidifier is still being unruly,(an understatement) and the glacier dispensers haven’t come off the truck (even though they were due two weeks ago), but I want you all to know how proud I am of you. We came in this morning with a lot of work still ahead of us, but I can say that this store is as ready as we can make it.” And it was, from the perfectly zoned shelves to the spotlessly cleaned floors. Each and every corner of his store was the physical manifestation of his dreams. “So go home and get a good night’s sleep, because at nine am I want all of you back here for the grand opening.”

They cheered, and it felt like a stadium of people applauding. It felt like the end of the movie, when the hero won the game, and the team rushed together in shared glee.

As he watched them file out, heard the whisper quiet shh of his doors, he imagined every day like this.

Though he hoped the anxiety would dampen over time. He pressed a hand to his stomach that was cramped and aching from his constant worry. If this went on he’d have another ulcer in no time, and hadn’t he left the DCC because it had been stressing him? The bureaucracy, the politics, the smug smothering presence of those in power? He had hated it all, but what he had loathed the most was sorting through file after file of weather requests. Simple target storms that could have taken him five minutes to create, but his hands had been tied. A farming town in a mild drought, a conservation under fire threat, a mountain resort without snow that month.

But they were short staffed, and his job involved too much time and resource management. Budget cuts and politics ruled in his old job, a drought kept people dependent on municipal water, the Forestry services were confined to natural weather unless under extreme circumstances, and of course the fact that government resources could not be used to aid private businesses.

Denial after denial after denial had weighed on his heart. They were not natural disasters or difficult jobs, nothing that should have been banned. They were simply not important enough for the government weather service to waste time on. But Jack, who had sat in an office after spending thirty years climbing his way up trying to find a way around that red tape, who had chafed under the constant reminder that he and those under him were nothing but a ‘government resource’ to those in power, who had always always remembered the years in the factories as an ungifted, an unwanted unusable uneducated drone good for nothing but building magical devices for those greater than himself, they were important to him. He had wanted nothing so much as he had wanted to find a way to help them.

Now he had.

Jack smiled as he picked up one of the snowglobes from the display, his personal favourite. An instant snow day. With the proper tools any weather pattern could be seeded, and Jack had spent the past thirty years studying how to do it.

His life in the factory had paid off. Very few magical people bothered making their own things these days, that was the job of the ungifted, whose lack of talents made it near impossible to contaminate or sabotage the tools. For the first twenty-seven years of his life he had been trained on how to create things of a magical nature without any knowledge of the magic itself.

Then suddenly he had gifts, talents, a rare and intimate connection to the weather. His ability to radiate cold, not dispel heat or transfer it, but to physically devour the energy around him and use it to fuel his gifts made him one of the best weather witches in the country, possibly the world. Few could create as he did, and fewer bothered to.

Replacing the globe he began to close up for the night. He had a little under seven hours before he had to be back and preparing the store for his employees to arrive.

Grand opening. His belly did little flips at the thought. Would people buy? He hoped they would, he hoped he had finally solved the problem everyone was facing with their weather system. The monopoly of power centralized in the hands of the government, and the dependence on said government for fair skies.

As he lowered the gates in front of his wide windows he thought of what the world would be like now that anyone could have a little storm of their own. The problems it would solve, the pranks it would inspire. How soon until someone broke a rainshower over a wedding? How long would it take before kids unleashed snowdays on school grounds? He couldn’t wait to find out.

Just as he was shutting off the lights and heading to the upper level and his own living space the bell at the back buzzed aggressively through the dark store.

Irritation slashed through the nerves. The sign clearly said closed. The banner over the store had the exact date for their opening. They had handed out fliers all week with the information of when they would be opening and at what time. Still, still he had dealt with people walking into the store all day as they had been trying to work. He had had to set up a door guard for just that purpose, like a fucking Walmart greeter.

The bell continues to buzz like a pissed off bee as he stomped back down the stairs and to the doors. His nerves were beyond strained,and while he hated to give any kind of poor impression to a potential customer he was not, currently, at work. He was at home, and the store was closed. Right now, he was just another person, and he was very very tired.

Taking his nametag with its MANAGER title off and smacking it down on the greeting booth with glee he unlocked the beloved glass doors and shoved one open. It offered no resistance, all debris vacuumed from it’s slot.. “What?” he demanded.

A large creature of indeterminate species cut an imposing figure against the parking lot flood lights and he had the sudden realisation that answering the door in the middle of the night was a very good way to get robbed.

Then the upper part split and, aside from the quick hysterical horror that it was the jaws of a monster opening to eat him, he realised the person was not in fact a towering eight foot tall beast but a moderately sized Pooka.

“Ye got a Humidifier need fixin?” The alien asked. It was.. It was not a voice Jack would identify as Pookan.

“You’re late.” Jack straightened, hoping he hadn’t gawked. “I put in the request two months ago, Opening Day is tomorrow.”

“The unit ye got here is registered in D.C. ye wanna explain how it got to Pennsylvania?”

Jack’s irritation doubled and he swallowed the sarcastic insult because of fucking course the paperwork hadn’t been updated, why had he expected anything else from the Government. “Its a decommissioned unit.” He explained, with Pooka it was important to be to the point. They had, as he had quickly learned, no sense of humor. “I requested it as part of my retirement package when I left the DCC.” It had been the only thing he wanted, and he had still plucked his way through a tangled knitting basket’s worth of red tape to get it. Just because something was sitting in a junk storage somewhere didn’t mean the government was going to give it away. The Government’s livelihood depended on them being the only one to have something. Only the legal assurance that he wouldn’t be using it to form his own vigilante weather service made them let go.

“Come in.” He sighed and stepped back to let the alien through the doorway, closing and locking up behind them. “Its this way.” He led the Pooka through the departments, weaving past the displays and around the aisles. It was tantamount, he knew, that no customer be able to reach their goal immediately. There had to be some form of meandering, some light browsing, otherwise the store invited bankruptcy. Impulse buys lined every fixture, the cheapest of their items, anything under $20, and things he believed would catch the eye. As he walked he flipped through his mental plans for each aisle entrance fixture. He had a department for seasonal events of course, but it was important to put that holiday in the mind of the more focused shopper. Someone just coming in for a garden storm wouldn’t think of the approaching halloween, so one needed to have the fog charms out on full display.

“Quite the place ye got here.” The Pooka’s comment was unnerving. Jack had never met a Pooka who volunteered an opinion in anything but dry facts. His experience was that they prefered not to interact at all, and simply be left to their work. Jack had braced himself for being dismissed as a distraction as soon as they arrived to the unit.

“Its ah, its pretty great yeah. I’m happy with it.” He said, and ran a hand along a shelf full of sunshowers. They looked like fist sized golden marbles with a twist of blue at the center. The slide of his fingers across the display had them humming, the familiars within them singing like crystal at the presence of their creator.

“Quite the bunch of familiars ye got here, must’ve taken an army to make ‘em.”

“Hmm? No.” Jack informed as he opened the barricade that separated the aisles from the employee station within the department. “Its time consuming, but I make them myself.”

“Ye made all these?” The Pooka looked alarmed. “It must’ve taken ye YEARS.”

“Oh it did, two full years, but it was worth it.” Jack picked up one of the waiting crystals with his familiar inside, too parched to be anything but a little scout yet, but with the right amount of water it could become any storm he wished. Working with the DCC he had created an endless amount of them, sending them out into the world like sheepdogs to herd storms towards the assignment, after he had always simply let them free, he had never had the heart to cannibalize them as others had done, but over the years he had learned that he was the exception.

“T-TWO YEARS?” The Pooka sputtered, and that was a unique experience, watching a member of the unflappable Pookan race gape at him wordless. “How are ye not in a COMA?” he demanded.

“I’m a weather mage,” Jack explained, as he had done a thousand times before, “ but my talents are cold creation.”

“Ye can’t.. Ye can’t create cold.” The Pooka explained, like the frustrated teachers who had tried to guide him in the ways of magic after developing his talents so late in age.

“I can. The energy in the matter around me feeds my magic, instead of taking it from myself, and makes everything cold.” He had never taken it to an extreme, the world they lived in was teeming with ways for magic users to replenish themselves, so he had never proven if he could reach absolute zero, but he didn’t doubt he that could. “This is the unit, we rewired it and changed out the crystals, even replaced most of the outer panels, but it’s still not functioning.” Jack put his hand against the flat stone box, looking to the untrained eye like any other green granite counter.

Jack had paid his supplier North a fortune in high compression ice to get his hands on that much green granite. Witches loved nothing more than aesthetic.

The Pooka was studying him in a familiar way, Pooka were frequently giving him the side eye at the DCC as they went about with their many inventions, they were not permitted to interact with the local populace, and often didn’t care to, working only with the planet’s governing forces. Trading their magical technologies for resources only Earth could provide. They had always given Jack the creeps, with their rigid speech and severe faces, he had never been able to reconcile their personalities with their far too adorable appearance.

They also had an uncompromising dislike for the mentioning of their resemblance to Earth rabbits. Which Jack couldn’t make sense of.

If Jack had looked at all like something adorable on an alien planet he would milk it for all it was worth. That was grade A bartering material there. But he didn’t expect a race that sneered at all things emotive to understand the importance of such a bartering chip.

“Well, lets start her up and see what the problem is.” The Pooka said after moments of uncomfortable silence. He bent down on his haunches, his long legs perfectly made for squatting peeked out from under his green coat and Jack realized the alien probably wasn’t wearing any pants, at least not the loose floor length ones he associated with them.

The sight of the delicate black pattern against soft grey fur caught his eye. He had never seen a Pooka out of their strict military dress robes, but this one was in nothing but a long green trench coat, he knew from offhanded rumor that they had clan markings magically dyed into their fur, but had only seen what was prominently displayed on their foreheads.

The panels, easily six inches thick and a literal pain in Jack’s back to take apart slide aside easily under the Pooka’s hands, claws ticking musically against the granite. “Everything seems t’be working proper like, ye did a good job restoring it. What seems off?”

“Its not that it isn’t working as it should, its not working the way I want it to.” Jack explained, passing his familiar between his hands. “Its a life support system for familiars.”

“Yeah, in extreme circumstances. Its supposed ta collect the atoms and humidify the air even if there is little t’no water present. Not exactly life support though.”

“You’ve never been in a forest fire.” Jack countered. “Normally our familiars herd storm systems, or collect water vapors and create systems if there are none, the humidifier can take water fed into it and replenish a system, and as such any weather or other water based familiar. My problem is that it should be able to transfer that humidity to a dormant familiar, just as a water spirit can be sealed away in an item, but every time I try nothing happens. I can’t figure out what’s blocking the machine from storing the humidity.” Jack sighed and leaned over the top of the granite counter, rolling his familiar between his hands. “Its a pain to keep dunking them in the fountain to gather the water I need for the storms, and its costly. Water is not cheap, even for a weather witch. I can’t rely on the air around my customers’ location, many of them are buying storms because there IS none around them, and I can’t guarantee a familiar will herd for a customer without me there. Too far out and they tend to drift off by themselves.”

“Wait.” The Pooka held up a paw, and Jack was surprised to see the little pads of skin on the tips were black instead of pink like his nose. “Yer telling me that this machine, hand made by Pooka to create vapor into the AIR to create life supplying storms for undeveloped planets, and ye want t’use it like yer refilling water bottles?”

Jack had expected irritation from a Pooka, they were almost religiously strict about how their technologies were allowed to be used, and any kind of adaptation was considered an insult. This one though, seemed like he was trying to talk around a mouthful of laughter.

“I’d hardly call my familiars ‘water bottles’.” Jack said cooly, staring down his nose at the smirking alien. It was an act he could only do while the creature was hunched over, since he barely reached halfway past five foot himself.

“Ye want t’just lob those little crystal balls o’yers into this box and fill em up with water.” That was unmistakably a cackle. Was this Pooka mad? Had the DCC, in retaliation for his retirement, sent him the one malfunctioning Pooka in the whole damn galaxy?

“Is that a problem?” Jack asked, smiling with far too much teeth.

“Not one bit.” The Pooka said, and unbuttoned his coat to reveal nothing but a leather strap underneath. The sight of so much fur openly displayed on the normally prudish species had Jack jolting back embarrassed.

“W-what are y-” he stammered.

“M’gonna modify it some.” The Pooka explained, tugging his strap over his head and opening the pack. He began pulling out small items that Jack recognized as tools of their trade, it was the only thing aside from the ears that were comfortably familiar about this encounter.

They had sent him the crazy nudist of the species. He was going to absolutely ruin that department. He was going to make them so obsolete the Politicians would be clamoring to underfund them and absorb them back into the EPA. He was going to turn the whole damn planet into a paradise just to spite them.

“These older gen models were built t’be gifts.” The Pooka explained as he set to work taking the humidifier apart. “To keep them from being abused as a source of water for only those in power, or a weapon to storm out an enemy, they were outfitted with a few failsafes. One being that they can’t create water themselves, only add vapor into the air for natural storms to form.” he pulled out several of the crystals powering the object and set them aside, reaching in deeper to delicately wiggle out the panel holding the fist sized created lapis Jack had received as a gift from his mother for his thirtieth birthday. He held his breath around his objection, his mother had few years left, and it had taken her most of what she lived to buy that for him. Savings that she had scraped to send him to a technical trade school he would never see. “We just need to bypass those little restrictions.”

“And then I can use it on my familiars?”

“When I’m done with it, ye can use it for yer own personal lake.”

Jack made a pleased sound in his throat and leaned back, grinning. The Pooka’s ears swiveled in his direction, but he remained elbow deep in the device. “So,” Jack asked before the silence could extend farther, “I didn’t catch your name?”

The Pooka ears flicked in what Jack recognized as irritation, like he was being harassed by an ear obsessed fly. It was a reaction he often got when chatting with Pooka, and he signed, resigned to being dismissed after all.

“Bunnymund.” The alien mumbled. “E. Aster Bunnymund.”

Jack gawked. He couldn’t help it. Bunnymund. THE Bunnymund. The Pooka’s, Bunnymund’s, (BUNNYMUND’S oh gods he was going to have a panic attack) ears flinched like they wanted to lay flat but stayed erect through force of will. Jack realized he was probably making an absolute fool of himself as he stared but BUNNYMUND, the actual FOUNDER of the planet, the Pooka who had terraformed Earth and the closest thing they had to a living God was in his store TOUCHING HIS THINGS.

Oh gods he’d snapped at him. He’d actually told Bunnymund, creator of continents, that he was late. He was going to die of humiliation.

He wanted to apologize, he wanted to shower Bunnymund in gratitude for fixing the device HE INVENTED and bypassing what was probably his own failsafes so Jack could use it to- Oh god Bunnymund had called them waterbottles. He wanted to die. He was going to burn the store down and kill himself.

Instead he blurted out “Why are you naked?” in a voice that didn’t even crack.

Something that embarrassing should not have come that casually from his mouth.

Bunnymund’s ears perked up stiff in his direction. “Ah.. I run.”

“You… run?” that made … no sense.

“Underground mate, I have me tunnels. Gets me everywhere, but they’re a bit cramped, ye follow?”

“You run.” Jack repeated, his imagination conjuring the image of the Pooka running full tilt like a rabbit in a tunnel. He couldn’t help it, he laughed. It was long and gasping, and Bunnymund looked severely pissed off, he couldn’t stop. He’d try, but as soon as he saw the Pooka’s face he’d laugh again. “You.. on all fours.. and naked!”

“Oi!” Bunnymund stood up, insult in every tense quivering muscle and bristled tuft of fur, but Jack just slid down, back to the shelf of his familiars, and laughed until he couldn’t breath.

It had been a long day.

He fully expected Bunnymund to collect his things and storm off, leaving Jack with a half dismantled Humidifier, but the Pooka seemed to deflate as Jack calmed down.

“S’not that funny.” Bunnymund mumbled.

“Have you SEEN your species?” Jack choked out from behind he breathless grinning. His stomach had cramped again, but he wasn’t sick with nerves this time so he didn’t care. He did need to pee now though.

“Course I have.” Bunnymund said tersely. “Bunch of a-holes.”

Jack gaped at him all over again, then cackled.

“Don’t start that again.” Bunnymund warned.

“I can’t help it.” Jack grinned. “My hero is a crazy swearing Australian and fixing my box, naked. I’m having the BEST dream.”

“Ye have bizarre dreams there mate.”

“You’re in one.” Jack informed him. “What does that make you?”

“A crazy naked Australian?”

Jack laughed again. “okay, no more.” He begged. “I need to pee. I can’t laugh more.”

“Thanks for sharing.” Bunnymund crouched back and started work on the Humidifier again.

“You’re welcome.” He chirped.

Bunnymund grunted, but didn’t reply. Probably afraid Jack would go crazy with laughter again and piss himself.

Jack just sat cross-legged and watched. Bunnymund was much more animated than the Pooka he normally interacted with in the DCC, more interesting. His ears moved, instead of staying focused on his work Bunnymund seemed to be listening to his own thoughts, they displayed more emotion, frustration or interest as he attempted to recreate his invention, and they turned towards Jack often. He would frown, his whiskers vibrating, but his eyes stayed on his work.

Jack didn’t mind the silence, unlike the other Pooka Bunnymund didn’t creep him out at all, and he was very nice to look at. Like a very pretty rabbit, with all his fur on display and fluffed up from his previous agitation Jack had the very powerful urge to reach out and touch him.

But even with an eccentric Pooka, that was a good way to get your hand chomped off at the wrist.

He signed, it would be nice though.

Bunnymund’s ears turned towards him and he held out a paw, surprising Jack. Fuck, had he spoken out loud? Did Bunnymund… was he going to let him touch him?

“Ball.” he demanded.

“What?” Jack flinched at the green glare that earned him, but clued in. “Oh, here,” he passed Bunnymund the familiar still in his hands.

Bunnymund set the granite panels back into place and stood, slapping one of the premade plastic sheets Jack had next to the device onto the counter he placed the crystal in the center of the inked design and began to mutter the humidifier’s incantation.

There was no glow, no noise or surge of magic. The air simply got heavier with moisture, like breathing too long in a confined space. Then Jack’s familiar began to hum, and in a snap, like a crack of electricity, the moisture was gone and in the center of the crystal was a thick twisting band of blue.

“Ha! Nice!” Jack scooped it up and surveyed the globe, searching out his weather spirit for any signs of discomfort. It seemed happy, less thirsty, and eager to get out and play. His familiars were always very friendly.

“Wow, this is awesome. I can’t believe it worked. Which spell did you use?” Jack leaned over to study the template. Whistling when he recognized the fire suppressant spell he had crafted for drought seasons. “That’s a powerful spell, a good strong soaker storm,” and not a template he intended for general sale. Custom order only. Too bad, he disliked when a powerful spirit had to sit for too long, they got irritable. But a forest wasn’t likely to complain about a thunderstorm. “You okay?”

“S’fine.” Bunnymund’s eyes slid sideways, not meeting his gaze. The spell wasn’t as exhausting without creating the familiar, but it still took a good chunk of power, and Jack doubted Bunnymund could grab it from the air the way he did. “No worries mate, its not my first time.”

“Okay.” Jack let it go, magic users tended to get irritable if you babied them, especially if you did something that would knock them on their ass and looked fresh as a daisy the way Jack always did. Egos were abundant among the gifted, so he didn’t push.

“I’ll buy it.” Bunnymund declared, and Jack looked back at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Its for sale right?” Bunnymund demanded, and why did he look so pissed off? Didn’t it work? Wasn’t this a success? “I’ll buy it.”

“Um.. yeah but.. are you sure? It’s a pretty big storm. Not criticising, I should have had that template stored, but do you have the room for it?”

“I live in Australia mate. Got a whole continent.”

Jack held the crystal closer. “You’re sure?”

“Is it for sale or not? Blimey.” the Pooka snapped, and Jack had a good view of teeth.

“Y-yes.” He looked between Bunnymund and the familiar, trying to decode the suddenly tense situation. “Here, this way.”

Jack led the way back towards the registers, mind retracing the last few minutes. He knew he’d probably irritated the Pooka when he laughed, but the guy had settled down and got back to work after. Why, if he was so pissed off, did he want to buy a storm? Did he want to smash it in the store and cause chaos? Surely someone as old and powerful as Bunnymund knew Jack’s familiar wouldn’t act out while Jack was there to command it. So.. why?

Jack waved a hand over the register, his sapphire ring activating the device without prompting.

“If ye have them set for runes, why the key cards?” Bunnymund asked, indicating to the employee cardswipe.

“I have ungifted employees.” Jack explained as he calculated the price based on his estimate of the square footage it would cover. “I don’t discriminate based on talents.”

“Progressive of ya.”

“Not really. My family is ungifted, I’m an anomaly.”

“That why ye let yer hair go white?”

Jack paused in wrapping and tugged on the hair at his ear self-consciously. It had silvered in his late forties and he had, like others, dyed it to maintain the image of eternal youth. But after leaving the DCC he hadn’t really bothered. Why should he, when his mom and baby sister were struggling with their mortality and he hadn’t changed a day beyond his awakening.

His cells, taking energy from the world around him, simply did not age.

“Yes.” He answered simply and changed the subject. “This large a storm will be $350, American.”

Bunnymund tugged a wallet out from the pocket of the coat slung over his arm and handed Jack a credit card. Normally Pooka paid in gold or silver, but what about Bunnymund had been normal anyway?

Jack handed the Pooka his card back as well as the glossy blue paper bag with his familiar, Bunnymund’s familiar now. “Thanks for fixing my box.” Jack tried to salvage at least some part of the conversation. “You’ll get most of your money back when you bill me.”

“No charge mate. Its in my contract.” Bunnymund gruffed.

Jack was left pondering that as he unlocked the cage, and then the glass doors to let the Pooka go. “Well, thank you, regardless. I probably shouldn’t have charged you for the storm then.”

“She’s aces.” Bunnymund walked past him.

Well, if that’s how it was, then that’s how it was. It wasn’t to first brush off from a Pooka he’d gotten. But…

“Actually, there is somethin.”

“Yes?” Jack looked up eagerly. In the beat of a heart Bunnymund had a fistfull of Jack’s shirt and Jack had a face full of… face.

He blinked rapidly, mind trying to process the sudden position he was in. Bunnymund was.. They were. Were they kissing? They were. They were absolutely kissing.

Bunnymund pulled back and grinned wickedly at him. “Revenge,” he explained, “for laughing at me.”

“Oh.” Jack said stupidly brain numb.

“Sweet dreams mate.” With a tap of his foot he disappeared down a hole in the ground and Jack was left staring blankly at the the the…the WEED growing out of his freshly laid concrete.

He reached up to touch his lips, but missed and ended up brushing his cheek instead. It didn’t matter, an entire side of his face tingled from the kiss, the fur against his nose and cheek, the way every time he blinked his eyelash had brushed against Bunnymund’s face, the feel of.. Of of of.. the feel of..

Jack closed the door mechanically, shutting the cage and locking it and turning off the lights. Mind still… minding…. with thoughts and junk.

Then he was struggling to get it all open again because if he left the flower there it was sure to get trampled by his employees on their way to work.

Coconut

“I hope you’ve brought coconut.”

“What?” Molly’s half whisper was in stark contrast to the other woman’s brash confidence.

“The chocolates. I prefer coconut.”

Molly looked down at the sweets in her hand. She’d wrapped the box in a shiny golden paper. “Oh…it’s an assortment. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask what you might like.”

Eurus gave a pointed stare toward the upper left hand corner of the stark white room. Molly knew she must be looking at the camera, at her brother who she was well aware was watching.

“Well, who could have told you?…Give them here then.” Eurus gestured to the small metal cylinder to her right.

She looked like a bird, Molly thought. The way she stared with those hyper alert eyes.  The way her movements were either whip fast or nonexistent.

Keep reading

The Neighbor Next Door 1/15

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, BONUS: XMAS Extra #1, XMAS Extra #2

Summary: (USUK) Arthur, an Omega has recently made the move to the US for a promising new job. He finds more than he bargained for when his loud Alpha neighbor won’t stop having sex at all hours of the night. Being sexually frustrated he declares war, but does Arthur want to be the victor when giving in feels so right?

Warnings: Pretty sure it will be rated R by the end *nervous laughter* + Omegaverse

A/N: So I’m putting it out there that this story was inspired off of another fanfic that I never read beyond the first couple of chapters, but thought the premise was hilarious and naturally applied it to USUK. I would link it, but it’s a published book now, go figure(oh god not fifty shades tho). I also took in some inspiration if you will from some of my own neighbors and the things I sometimes hear that I kind of find hilarious. Anyway this story is completely shameless, but it’s supposed to be a romantic comedy. 

Keep reading

AN: Here is the wild card imagine I told you all about! If you haven’t already guessed, this will be a Steve imagine (with other characters, don’t you worry). BUT, it won’t be the normal, “America’s man with a plan” Steve. You’ve been warned XD *I do not own the gif, found on google. Please ignore any spelling errors! Xoxoxox :3

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Prompt: *shrugs*

Warnings: Swearing. Angst? Not so much in this part, but there will absolutely be some Dark!Steve in this, may be a little disturbing for some readers idk. 

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

“American Psycho”

How could you let this happen?

Keep reading

A lot of people have asked me why it is I have so much patience for the Diamonds in the absence of obvious “redeeming” qualities attached to them. 

And my answer at this point is: precedents.

When you’re writing a story, you know where you’re going. You establish small things at first that reflect patterns in how the rest of the story goes.

And Steven Universe, the show, has some very clear patterns.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

(Ahh I love the idea of this blog, there's not enough IronPanther around!! <3) For one time I'd really like a sleep deprieved T'Challa walking into a conference with the Avengers and Tony is standing at the end of the table discussing things with Fury/Steve/The Team and T'Challa just moves over to him and buries his head onto Tony's shoulder while Alarmed!Tony doesn't know what's going on.

The days previous had been long, exhaustive, and seemingly non-stop action. Inhumans were only going to grow to be more of a problem the longer that SHIELD fought to control them, the more the general public heard about them and grew to fear them. The entire Avengers team – those pardoned by the UN after three long years, and those who had been left behind – had returned the night previous, stumbled to their own rooms.

Keep reading

What’s going on in Brazil? #08

So, we’ve had……. a complicated month. So complicated that in all honesty there is stuff that I haven’t even fully grasped yet. But we can put it mainly in two topics: government-voting-new-fucked-up-projects and corruption scandals. And they are connected, so grab a drink (you’ll need it) and let’s go through it, as fast and as clearly as possible.

Let’s start with the laws things. If you’ve been looking at Brazil at all through the last months you should know we’ve got ourselves into a big ass financial crisis (and I won’t discuss why here cause that’d take another 20 paragraphs). . And you should also know that our President Dilma Rousseff was impeached a few months back, so her vice-president, Michel Temer, is in charge. Except he’s not sticking to her plan, or the plan that got them both elected, but to an opposite one. I’ve discussed it before somewhere here. If you’ve got no idea why Rousseff was impeached and all I’d strongly recommend you stop and google that or read my previous analysis and links to it cause it’s gonna be hard to grasp without that background.

So, moving on. Financial crisis demands acting from the government, right? Right. That’s what the new government thought too, and they’re taking action. Problem is… what is the action? 

The main act is called PEC 241 or PEC 55  (PEC simply means law project if you’re wondering) - it changes names when it goes to senate (and it has, since congress approved it. Senate should vote it this week). What it does  is freezing public spending for 10 years, and it can be extended for another 10, making it possibly 20 years of freezing. It’s an austerity measure, and basically the government would only be able to increase spending in any area by cutting investments in another one (having corrected the values year after year based on the previous years inflation). And looking from a distance, that seems great, right? But we need a deeper look here, especially at two points. First is, this would be applied for expenses in Health and Education too. We have public health systems and public schools/universities, yes, but especially the health system and the schools aren’t really in good conditions (the universities are still the best in the country, but deteriorating fast as it is), so cutting investments in those would mean a lot more deaths and a lot more illiteracy, for starters. Our results on the PISA this year were already worse than before, so you can see where i’m going. Someone did the math a few weeks ago, and if this law had passed 10 years ago, we’d had spent 60% less than what we did on health already, which is to imply we’d have total and absolute chaos. I mean, there are thousands of people dying literally at hospitals floors at this point, I don’t think we can take a damn cent out of it BUUUUT that’s not even my point here.

The real point is that expenses on Health and Education together don’t even amount to 10% of our GDP. So it is to say that they might take resources out of it to  try to cover the debt (now somewhere from 40-60% of our GDP) and that will fuck up a lot of people, but it won’t really make a huge change to the debt. See how shitty that is? Besides, investment in education and research is the path that would maybe someday lead us to closing that debt that comes mainly from our current economical world dynamics and history, but that’s a debate for another day. 

The second part where it gets ugly is that this law project would also impact on public servers wage. And having no real increase in your payment for the next 20 years should seem fucked up by itself, but you’ve got to add something else to the mix: Supreme Court ruled legal just a few weeks back to cut on wages of public servers that strike. So basically they’re gonna freeze your salary and if you strike you don’t get paid so you can’t really strike but will likely not earn enough at some point as well. Great, huh?

Second thing they’re working on is Social Security, making the rules so that it’s harder for people to retire and making the work-time needed so long there are literal memes of toddlers on those work costumes spreading around under “someone preparing to get retired before DEATH after 2016″. So that’s not really great either. Oh, and ofc they’re cutting normal citizens retirement plans, not military ones or the politicians ones (which make for HUGE part of the debt in social security, actually). They also promised to make labor laws “more flexible” (we all know what that means, right?) and “privatize everything” (which they started, WITH OUR OIL. Another matter for another time.

Now off to the corruption scandals, and we’re gonna link all of this at some point. We’ve had at least 3 through the past couple of weeks, and they’re about literally everyone and i’m not using literally lightly there. First one blew up yesterday or the day before when one of the people from one of the previous scandals got their testimony/bargain deal leaked. It’s a bribery scandal and the point is: the more people you give up, the less years you get. About 70 people from the same company that was involved in this bribery scandal committed to taking those deals, aaand that was one of the first ones to come out. 

Our president got named 43 times through it. Yes, Michel Temer. Yes, forty-fucking-three-times. And he’s not the only one at all, the list of important people on it is so big a newspaper literally just dedicated the whole first page headline to the names and then ellipsis and then another three lines of names bellow and they were far far from done. What came as a surprise is that the main party here that was blamed for The Root Of All Corruption And Evil™ (known as PT, Rousseffs party and why most people wanted her impeached) was… less prominent on it than expected. Instead, it was mainly made of names from Temers party (PMDB) and the strongest opposition party (PSDB) that is basically in control of the government now too. And there’s like, another 60 people of the same company still waiting to speak. So. Yeah. A movement started to ask Temer to step down yesterday.

Second scandal - what a surprise - also has Temer at it. Oversimplifying it: Minister A wanted thing done in a certain city to value his own land, but the area was historical patrimony so he went to pressure Minister B, in charge of that sort of thing, to cut him some slack and allow the thing to go through. Minister B denied (it was like a 30 story shiny building in the middle of a colonial historical center like what the fuck was on this dudes mind I don’t even-)  but he didn’t stop there: B went public saying Temer (yeah, the President) had also pushed him on to solve the matter cause once press got a sniff of it they were all on top of both Ministers. Cause Minister A didn’t get fired until Minister B said that about the president (and then B resigned) which leaves us with not only a President that lost 6 Ministers in 6 months but also with a President that could be charged with influence peddling. Opposition has filled for an Impeachment, but it’d have to go through president of congress which is his ally. But why, you might ask, did Minister A not get fired for this kind of shit right away? Well…… because Temer needed his influence on the lower house of Congress to pass that shiny project we were just talking about, PEC 55. 

The third scandal: President of the Senate became officially a defendant on a corruption charge from a few years back. Problem is, in case Temer has any emergencies, he is the next on at the Presidency Successor line, so the question was: can we leave someone that’s formally answering for a corruption process there??? No, not really, right? Eeeh. Supreme court first had told him to step down, then he just kinda ignored the order (can you do that??? no, but he did) then the Senate filled something and they appealed and whatever whatever RESULTING IN: He stays. He can’t become president, though. Don’t ask me to explain this. Nobody understood it either. But it became a bit of a crisis because people were discussing about how far could one power interfere at the other’s work (like, can the Senate do what it did against Supreme Court? Can Supreme Court take down the Senates President? CAN YOU IGNORE A COURT ORDER???). But we’ll never get those answered cause, ya know, we’re in Brazil and our constitution should read “laws were made to be broken”. Point is, WHY did Supreme Court allow him to stay on power? … Most likely, because The President needs him to pass that bill through the Senate. HA! Great, huh? Fucking fantastic (and also fucking corrupt of the Supreme Court, which is not really a surprise for me but it kinda was for a lot of people - they’re denying having had any motives other than their consciousness, of course). 

“So, they’re probably breaking a fuckton of laws to end up fucking y’all over?” yes, that’s it. That’s the point. Also, everybody involved is now kinda accused of corruption. Yeay. Great couple of weeks.

And there’s always more, of course, but I think this is long enough and a mess enough for anybody already so, that’s it for today. Always open for questions and giving more details if you ask, etc. And if you’re feeling lost, confused and terrified all at the same time by now, or even if you couldn’t understand a single line of this whole mess: don’t worry, we’re feeling the same way.

That’s the Wrong Sister (Steve Rogers x reader)

Request: food-books-and-bed said: Can I request a story where the reader was Natasha’s twin and was walking down the street or something and someone needed help and mistook her for Natasha and Steve was watching and he made her join the team she and Steve hookup but he falls for her

Sometimes it was almost a curse to be the twin sister of Natasha Romanoff.  It was definitely a bad choice to live in the same city, where her enemies knew where to find her and where anyone at any time could ask her to save them.  You tried to dress conservatively, hoping to cover your identity as much as possible without being totally hidden from the world.  You still had a life to live, after all.

Tonight was one of those nights that had you wishing that you would have just stayed home.  You could hear a woman screaming from somewhere nearby, but the sound seemed to come from all around you.  Moving to the middle of the street, you looked quickly for any cars before closing your eyes and listening; trying to decide which direction to run, trying to drown out the background noises of the city around you.

“Ma’am?”

“Shh!” you scolded the voice next to you, raising your hand to demand his silence.  You never even opened your eyes to see who it was, running away from him as your senses sorted out which direction the woman’s scream was coming from.  You didn’t hear him follow you either.

When you reached the alley, you stopped at the sight of a man holding a woman against a building with a knife to her throat as he rummaged through her purse.  She was doing her best not to panic, and tried to hold her reaction when she saw you in her peripheral vision as to not give you away.

“Hey,” you called out, stepping into his line of sight, “I think you should let her go before this gets ugly.”

The man pulled his knife away and released her, now turning to you.  She grabbed her bag and ran from the alley, leaving him for you.  “Hey, cutie,” he smirked in a gravelly voice that sounded old and worn, “you’ve got a lot of nerve, scaring off my catch there. You taking her place?”

“I’m here to kick your ass.”

The man spun the knife around in his hand and stepped back to lower himself into a lunge, shooting himself forward at you.  You simply shook your head and sighed, easily grabbing his arm when he attempted to swing the blade at you, firmly twisting and snapping his shoulder from its joint.  He was now lying at your feet, whimpering and begging for you to stop pushing your foot into his chest.  You grabbed his knife and slipped it into your boot, leaning down to capture his gaze.

“At least make it a challenge for me,” you mumbled.  “I’m sure you have a few questions, but I had plans that you so rudely interrupted.” You pulled out your phone and called for police to come pick him up, looking around to see if anyone had been watching.  The alley was dark and you didn’t see anyone, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was there.

Once the sirens grew closer and you could see the lights on the nearby street, you jumped to the nearest fire escape and climbed up until you were out of view, watching the man to be sure he didn’t try to run.  Satisfied with his removal, you jumped to the next building and then the next, lowering yourself to the ground to leave and resume your original plans for the night.

Back at the site of the incident, Steve watched as you disappeared into the darkness.  He stood motionless for several minutes before a dark figure dropped down next to him from above; another witness to your control of the situation.

“Rogers.”

“Murdock.”

“So, who’s that one? These vigilante types are just crawling from the woodwork, huh?”

Steve looked at Matt and sighed loudly, disbelieving what was being said.  “Really?  You mean like you?”  

“Hey, this isn’t about me,” Matt said nervously, raising his hands in defeat and slowly backing away. “Okay…so…nice chat, Cap.  I best be on my way.”

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Steve paused for a moment before making the call that could change your life from this day forward.  He slowly dialed, considering his decision before entering the final number, but finally gave in and put the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Nat.  I have a few questions to run by you.  You got a minute?”

~~~

“She doesn’t want to be found, Steve.  I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Okay, but why didn’t you tell me you that you have a sister?  You’re in the same city, and yeah it’s a big city, but there’s always a chance that we would run into her.”  Steve looked up at Natasha across the small café table with a small smirk, taking a drink of his coffee, “I thought she was you.”

“She’s good.  Not as good as me, of course, but she has no problem holding her own.”

“Can you bring her in?”

Natasha sat her cup down on the table with a loud thud and a shocked look on her face as she all but choked on her drink.  “To the team?!  Are you joking?  Cap, I just said, she doesn’t want to be found.  I did say that in English, right?”

“Yeah, you did,” he chuckled.  “But all the same, I think it’s the right thing to do.”  Steve quickly took the last swallow of his coffee and stood to leave, looking down at his teammate, “you in or out?”

“I’m out.”

~~~

The overly enthusiastic and loud banging on your door startled you enough to drop your phone before you could send another reply back to your sister, who had tried to give you a little warning that he was trying to find you; you were surprised that the Captain had arrived so quickly.  You stood to open the door, but had made a firm decision to not let him in.

“Well, I must say you sure didn’t waste any time finding me.  Did she tell you or are you just that resourceful?”

“I prefer to not divulge my methods,” he said, looking down at you with a commanding presence that did anything but put you at ease.  He was more intimidating than you would have imagined after what you had read about him and what Nat had told you.  “May I?” He pushed his way through the door before you could reply, taking full advantage of your stunned silence.

“You know, that’s rude to just force your way into someone’s home.  In fact, I think that’s called trespassing, Captain Rogers.  Not very law abiding for a walking flag.”

Steve looked down at the clothes he was wearing, a pair of jeans and a simple button down shirt, and looked back at you with confusion.  “I’m not even wearing the suit-“

“Can’t escape it, sorry,” you sighed, shutting the door once you decided that he wasn’t about to leave any time soon.  “You just ooze patriotism.”  You took a deep breath and turned to look at him, doing your best to hold your resolve and not take him up on the offer that you knew was coming.  Doing your best to not fall prey to the man that Nat had warned you about only moments ago.  The man that she knew was much too close to your type, and that you would find hard to say no to.  “No thanks, Captain.  I know what you are here to offer, and I don’t want you to waste your time or energy.”

“She told you.”

“She’s my sister.  You think she wouldn’t?”

Steve took a few steps closer with a slight sense of urgency and fear that he would lose any shot to convince you of his plan before you even gave him a chance.  “Okay, but hear me out.  You didn’t break a sweat the other night; you didn’t even look like you were engaged in it.  It was too easy.  You must have skills similar to hers, right?”

“I said no.”

“Natasha told me that you were trained with her, but you stayed behind after she left the Red Room. You stayed on and trained new girls-“

Finished with his lack of respect for your answer, you stepped behind him and twisted his arm back, pushing him into the wall and pressing his face against it.  He didn’t fight back at all, not even pushing back when you held him tighter.  

“What part of ‘no’ is Captain America having a hard time with?  Is it the ‘n’ or the ‘o’?  Perhaps it’s a lack of manners that’s the problem?   Do you make it a habit to just barge into someone’s home and spout off until you get your way?  Do you always get your way, Steve?  Is that it?”

You swore you heard him growl; like some strange animalistic noise coming from his throat.  You held your ground, waiting for him to turn the tables on you, planting your feet firmly to keep your leverage against him. “Hmm?  Nothing?  I thought you were more than just a shield, Rogers.”

Those must have been the magic words to spring him into action.  It a flurry of twisting arms and legs, punches and kicks, fingers weaved into hair and hands around throats, it was a matter of seconds before you were pinned to the ground and he was looking down at you.  His hands were like vice grips holding your arms to the floor; you couldn’t so much as even wiggle your fingers.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” Steve panted, “can we get back to business?  You’re skills are impressive, (Y/N).”  The look in his eyes was shifting, and softening slightly, but they were still intense and held your attention with the deepness of the blue in them.  You felt a shift in your interaction, and you could see that he did too.  “Alright…maybe…maybe it would be best if we got off the floor and talked in a more civilized way.”

He finally stood and held his hand out to you to help you up, no longer making the eye contact he had so firmly held seconds ago.  “Alright, talk,” you sighed, straightening out your shirt as you stood.  “You have ten minutes to convince me of every reason why I should go with you.”

~~~

Steve was a very convincing man.  It likely had a lot to do with the fact that you now wanted to let him convince you so you could see more of him.  You had spoken only a handful of words to him, but you listened to him go on and on about how the Avengers were a cohesive team that wanted to protect and make things right.  He was so passionate about what he believed, that you couldn’t help but be convinced, and now here you were, about to meet everyone.

“Just wait here,” he whispered, resting his hand over yours as if it were natural to do so.  When you looked down at it, he pulled away quickly and cleared his throat in embarrassment.  “Um, I’m just gonna see who’s here before you come in.  Looking so much like Nat might be a bit of a shock for them.”

After about five minutes he returned to the front door to bring you in, looking slightly disappointed about something.  “Well, no one’s here right now, but I can give you a tour if you’d like?”  His eyes were filled with anticipation that you would agree to stay, so you quickly took his hand for him to lead the way.

“Alright,” he sighed, looking down at your two hands and your fingers intertwined, seeming a bit uncomfortable at the contact.  “gym first.”

“No,” you said, pulling back against his arm to stop him and keeping your hand in place as you spoke. “You said the tower’s empty, right?”

“Uh…yeah…?”

Being forward wasn’t your strong suit, and you were usually uncomfortable showing guys any interest, but this was no normal guy.  You may never have this opportunity again, so you took the chance, pulling him down for a kiss, wrapping your other hand around his neck.  He responded quickly, pressing his mouth roughly against yours, his tongue searching desperately and dancing with yours.  You lost your breath when he lifted you from the floor, and you had to wrap your legs around him to keep your balance.  

The breath was knocked from your chest slightly as he slammed your back into the wall, still kissing you with ferocity and need.  He pulled his head back and began to leave hot kisses down your neck, his warmth leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“This isn’t like me,” you panted.  “I swear…it’s just…that you…”

“I know…but I don’t want to stop myself.”

~~~

You woke the next morning to incessant buzzing from your phone and countless texts from Natasha, undoubtedly worried that she hadn’t heard from you since telling her you were going to meet with Steve.

Did you see the tower last night?

Steve said he convinced you to stop by.

Where are you?

Are you still asleep?  Wake up, already.

Have you heard from Steve?

“God, she’s persistent,” you whispered to yourself, rolling onto your back and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.  “You get to tell her, not me.”

“She’s your sister,” Steve said in a sleepy voice, “I’m not getting in the middle of that.”

“It didn’t seem to bother you last night.”  You sat up and stretched, yawning as your body pulled it’s aching muscles, “alright, then what should I say?”

“Tell her that you didn’t get a tour of the tower because I was too busy taking advantage of her only sister.”

You tapped away at your phone for a few seconds then tossed it on the table next to you.  “Okay.”

Steve’s face went immediately pale and his mouth hung open in shock.  “You didn’t…”

You gave him a mischievous smile and quietly began, “Five…four…three…two…one…”

The furious banging on his door surprised him, jumping at the sound of the angry Russian on the other side.  “Steven Rogers, you seem to have forgotten how many ways there are for me to kill you!”

Part 2

Peek-A-Boo: I DON'T See You, Or, I Hate You: Don't Leave Me… Oh, Too Late.

Sigmund Freud was a good uncle to his nephew, Ernst (or perhaps he was a good father to his son, Ernst - sources seem to disagree), and enjoyed engaging him in games such as peek-a-boo played with a favorite stuffed bear. Freud would hold up the bear and then, while Ernst watched, drop the toy out of sight. Ernst immediately lost interest in both the bear and his uncle’s (dad’s? I really need to straighten this out) shenanigans until the stuffed animal was clearly in sight again.

As the child began to mature, so did the game. Ernst slowly started to realize that the object wasn’t completely gone just because he couldn’t see it. Freud watched Ernst go from dismissive observer to active participant; the bear would be dropped and Ernst would reach out to find it. This basic understanding of “object permanence” would later allow Ernst and friends to play peek-a-boo’s more sophisticated cousin, hide-and-seek.

Adults don’t play peek-a-boo with one another (or they don’t admit to it, anyway) because they don’t need to. They get it already. No, the toy’s not gone; you’re just holding it behind your back. And while hide-and-seek can come in handy if you’ve just lost your friends on a hiking trail after taking a hefty dose of psychedelics, it’s otherwise pretty useless as well.

But many people with Borderline Personality Disorder are playing a kind of internal and eternal peek-a-boo. We play it indoors, outdoors, during breakfast and late at night. And I’ll be the first to admit that we totally, totally suck at it.

Freud wasn’t the only one to notice this (the theory of object relations, not that I suck at peek-a-boo) - psychologist Jean Piaget had some thoughts on the subject as well.

///

Object Permanence 

Freud and Ernst’s interactions display what Piaget called “object permanence” (not to be confused with another concept, “object constancy”), or the understanding that something doesn’t cease to exist just because it is not physically there. Ernst initially ignored the toy when it was dropped because he did not yet understand that there were other options - that an object could be “sought” and “found” instead of being gone forever. Piaget concluded that this is why some very young infants do not cry when their mothers/fathers leave the room (as opposed to more emotionally-developed toddlers, who, as all babysitters know, will shriek like banshees). Basically, “out of sight, out of mind.” Although the infant will be happy to see the mother/father when they return, it’s not necessarily because they were “missed.” Infants cry because they are hungry or because they are wet. They do not cry out of “missing” or “longing for” a caretaker - partially because these are fairly sophisticated emotions and partially because, frankly, if the caretaker isn’t standing right in front of them, they don’t exist at all. (Peek-a-boo!)

Piaget went even further and discovered a phenomenon now called the “A-not-B error”. If you were to test this yourself, you would sit across from an infant between 8-12 months of age and show them two boxes. Then, in full view of the infant, you would hide a toy under “A”. Naturally, the subject would grab the toy out from box “A” and continue to do so each time it’s hidden. Then you catch them off guard and again, in full view of the infant, hide the toy under box “B.” It’s entirely likely that the infant will continue to look under box “A”, even though he/she just watched you put something under box “B”! What gives? Generally the theory goes that young children are much better able to remember where something was than re-learn where it is now. Unsurprisingly, the “A-not-B” experiment can get babies pretty frustrated because dammit, it just doesn’t make any sense!

///

“A-not-BPD”

Many people with Borderline Personality Disorder experience a similar deficit (or even complete lack) of object permanence. “Fear of abandonment” is one of the more well-known BPD symptoms, so a bit of research has gone into why we’re so convinced you’re going to leave us, or why we freak out when we sense that you actually will. This, of course, tends to create the not-yet-trademarked BPD Circle of Unbridled Insanity: we’re afraid that you’re going to leave us, and the fear makes us obnoxious, and our desperate attempts to draw you closer make you push us farther away, so we become more obnoxious, so you leave us, so we conclude: “A-HA. I WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOU ALL ALONG.”

However, a deficit or lack of object permanence can manifest itself in multiple ways and each case of BPD is different, so I’m going to take off my lab coat now and get personal. I am one of the borderlines who has a deficit (not lack) of object permanence, and this is how it’s played out for me:

I don’t usually miss people

That sounds horrible, right? But my brain, for whatever reason, does not spontaneously conjure up images or memories of friends or family unless I have a physical reminder nearby, such getting a a text message or glancing at a photograph. (My walls are plastered with dozens and dozens of pictures for this very reason.) I rarely-to-never just think, “Hmmm, I wonder what [so-and-so’s] up to today” unless I am jolted into remembering them.

See, people miss other people because of distance, but that’s the exact reason I can’t miss people. You miss someone because you want to be with that person, but that person isn’t there. If someone isn’t physically with me, it’s almost impossible for me to remember, say, the sound of their voice. Even if the last time I saw them was yesterday.

Don’t get me wrong. I care very deeply for the people in my life and I would be devastated if something happened to one of my friends - and yes, I do have friends. I am interested in their lives and I want to see them and talk to them and hang out with them, but they are just an abstract concept until I can actually reach out and touch them to confirm that they still exist. Unfortunately, they usually have to reach out to me first.

It’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because longing for/missing a person is uncomfortable and it’s something I can mostly avoid. A curse because if I’m anxious or distressed, I lack mental pictures of loved ones or vivid memories involving those people. If I am alone, I am truly alone.

I know what things were, not what they are right now.

The present is sort of an abstract concept for me and I have difficulty staying in it. For whatever reason, it is so hard for me to detach from past experiences that I’m not always emotionally available when new ones are forming. This is when I’m prone to making some Piaget-style “A-not-B” errors.

For example, a person became angry with me a few years ago, which is always a big deal because I’m terrified of upsetting people, lest they hate me and ditch me forever. It was a total misunderstanding, but the incident stuck with me and I kept it in my mental “oh shit” folder. Long after that happened, a different person got upset at a party I was having (look at me! I can even throw parties!) and I instantly associated it with the incident from a few years ago. There were a few striking similarities (the person was fairly unfamiliar to me, she was female, she was dating the same guy that the other girl had been dating, and she went outside angrily despite the freezing weather), but this person was not angry because of me.

Still, I could not let go of the similarities between this incident and what happened years ago, and I was convinced that I had somehow caused this and it was all my fault. She was angry because of something I did, but I didn’t know what, and no one would tell me, and I was an awful, terrible person. My brain simply could not wrap itself around the idea that these were two completely different situations and I kept frantically asking my boyfriend what I’d done to make the girl so upset. He repeatedly told me this wasn’t about me and I would listen to him for two minutes and then ask him again. “What did I do? What did I do?!”

Unsurprisingly, my boyfriend finally snapped. “Do you like drama?” he asked, clearly exasperated. And I had no way to explain that no, I HATED drama, which is why I was so fearful and being so annoying in my quest for that final, perfect reassurance.

In other words, I kept looking for the answer under box A, even though everyone, including me, had watched it go under box B. I just did not have the cognitive resources to process the difference. And much like the child performing the real experiment, I was frustrated to the point of tears because it just. didn’t. make. any. sense.

Maintaining friendships is difficult.

As mentioned, I rarely “miss” people regardless of how long I’ve gone without seeing them. They will pop into my mind with what I call a “good trigger” (photos/a text/seeing their name on that weird viral Coke bottle campaign) and it will occur to me that I haven’t seen so-and-so in half a year. 

Well, that can’t be healthy, can it?

So I’ll contact so-and-so and we’ll hang out and have a wonderful time because I know a lot of wonderful people. But if you keep people at arm’s length for too long, they will withdraw in turn. They may assume you’re no longer interested in the friendship. The texts will dwindle and the invitations will stop. Eventually you’ll be the one responsible for holding together the friendship by maintaining contact, and that’s the very thing I find almost impossible to do.

Basically: “out of sight, out of mind” –> I can’t figure out how to stay in touch with people, so I don’t –> people eventually assume I’ve lost interest and let me fall by the wayside –> I’m responsible for restoring contact –> I can’t remember how to restore contact with someone I don’t currently see right in front of me –> I don’t see people right in front of me because I don’t stay in touch. 

Maintaining romantic relationships hahahahahahahahahaha, good one.

Political Analysis of LOK by A^3

Hello everyone…start your weekend off right, with yet another brilliant meta by “Anonymous Asami Admirer” (A^3). This one can be thought of as a companion piece to the previous philosophical meta, and focuses on the political theories underpinning LOK. This shines lights onto many facets of the show, and in my opinion, is quite a worthwhile read:

***

Politics in the Legend of Korra, “aka The Best Way to Destroy the World”

Preface: I hesitate to release this essay because I hate talking about politics, mainly due to the fact that there is such a wide range of working knowledge among readers. Furthermore, many words like conservative, liberal, communist, fascist, socialist, capitalist have been so horribly abused in everyday speech that they no longer hold much meaning. In an effort to remain objective and concise, I use these words sparingly and opt to focus on the bigger picture, rather than getting bogged down in jargon.

Amon: Take down dad…I mean…the oppressors!

Spearheaded by Aang and Zuko, RC was an experiment. It was meant to be a city where people of all nations and classes could live in harmony. But as soon as Korra lands there, we see people lecturing in the streets about inequality and injustice. Instead of harmony, society is plagued by some benders using their abilities to terrorize and extort non-benders. It seems that non-benders outnumber benders in the Avatar universe, and Amon was able to tap into this mass discontent in his rise to power. He preached equality and was even willing to eradicate bending to achieve it. He had a well-crafted “personal story” that he repeated as an appeal to the emotions of his followers, much like the politicians of today.

Ever since humans began living in agrarian societies and people were able to divide labor and store resources, proper distribution of wealth has been a key problem. The core issue of equality is how to level the playing field in society when everyone has different abilities and different needs. Every culture has a set of values they espouse and reproduce through the generations, and there will always be people who can match those values better than others. For instance, in our society, we value people who are strong, innovative, and charismatic, so what of the people who lack those talents and skills? Should they be left behind? Should we take from the “talented” and give to the “untalented”? Either way, someone will get the short end of the stick. Not everyone can contribute equally to society, so how do we ensure that people are treated equally? Is it even important to do so?

Keep reading

Quinncident Feels

I really, really love Quinn’s betrayal despite that magnificent bastard betraying me and in my play through of Ascora I think I finally figured out why.

Whether you believe he was simply incompetent or chose to be incompetent in his betrayal or whatever your theory of choice for why he did what he did and why he failed at it, there’s something heartbreaking about the precursor to it.

I take Malavai everywhere, even now that I can have others healing because I love his character. Plus he’s very story relevant which is great. But after Baras’ betrayal of the SW (which I also had Quinn for so essentially Ascora saved his life as well as her own) you can see all these little hesitations and pauses when he says or does something during the missions. He obviously knows what’s coming and if the SW is smart, they know he’s in some sort of turmoil about it. You could probably pass that off as turmoil about killing other Imperials, but it’s not. It’s turmoil about what he knows he has to do. And I say has to because he has to betray someone, the Warrior or Baras.

Now, it would be easy to say that he should have betrayed Baras because of the friendship/relationship he may have with the Warrior but Quinn us about best case scenarios and that is not it. Malavai has to chose before the SW faces Baras and he can’t face Baras alone. Theoretically, Baras knows the about the Warrior being alive thanks to Quinn and yet for some reason he allows the Warrior to get as far as they do.

I assume he does this because truly he’s loyal to the Warrior and wants them to win. His betrayal has so many layers. It’s a warning, a warning that Baras is aware that the Warrior lives and has consolidated his resources as well. It’s a test, to certain the Warrior can succeed. If they die facing him, they would never survive against Baras. And it’s also a sacrifice. If Quinn had betrayed Baras he wouldn’t have been killed, he would have been tortured to insanity likely, that’s Baras’ style. But the Warrior.

With the Warrior, Quinn thinks they will think fondly enough of him to make his death swift or that they will be angry enough to kill him outright. If they don’t survive, he doesn’t need to worry about that. But Quinn is man of strategy and planning. I have no doubts he made plans in case the SW did win.

So he allows them to get as far as they did and then sacrifices himself via his betrayal to give the warning and the test and, if you think about it, it’s also his chance to die next to the Warrior, instead of right at Baras’ side. He could have waited until the Warrior faced Baras and stabbed them in the back then. But he doesn’t.

That makes it even more heartbreaking. He faces you head to head as an equal, not as backstabber and does the most honorable thing he can do. Not best case scenario for him, but it is best case scenario for you. The only pro he sees, is that he will die quickly and honorably, which is important to him. He’d rather die that way, than face you with Baras at his side and win and watch you die at Baras’ hand.

Claustrophobic - A Genji/Mercy Mini-Fic

A/N: (The inspiration for all of this struck me about a week ago. Wanted to get it up before the release. I hope all my fellow Genji/Mercy fans enjoy! The present day portion of this story takes place almost immediately after the “Dragons” animated short.) 


“Multiple deep lacerations, extensive burns across the torso and face, a punctured lung…partially severed spinal cord-mein gott Jack! How is this man still alive?!”

“A damn good question Angela, but I have a more pertinent one. Can you save him?”

“Define “save”, commander. I can…I might be able to keep him stable on life support, but I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to walk again.”

“Genji’s a fighter. He’ll surprise you Doc.”

“I don’t like surprises Jack. In my field…they’re rarely good.”  

Keep reading