I still can’t believe that these two dorks imported from Transformers Prime are the 2nd pair of canon robots husbands in the IDW comics. They aren’t just window dressing either! There’s a story behind the vain, high speed racer that married a guy who is considered inferior by his whole culture. I want to see it play out so badly!
Knockout and Breakdown are precious and deserve all the love.
What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect–what if she took him in?
Petunia was jealous, selfish and vicious. We will not pretend she wasn’t. She looked at that boy on her doorstep and thought about her Dudders, barely a month older than this boy. She looked at his eyes and her stomach turned over and over. (Severus Snape saved Harry’s life for his eyes. Let’s have Petunia save it despite them).
Let’s tell a story where Petunia Dursley found a baby boy on her doorstep and hated his eyes–she hated them. She took him in and fed him and changed him and got him his shots, and she hated his eyes up until the day she looked at the boy and saw her nephew, not her sister’s shadow. When Harry was two and Vernon Dursley bought Dudley a toy car and Harry a fast food meal with a toy with parts he could choke on Petunia packed her things and got a divorce.
Harry grew up small and skinny, with knobbly knees and the unruly hair he got from his father. He got cornered behind the dumpsters and in the restrooms, got blood on the jumpers Petunia had found, half-price, at the hand-me-down store. He was still chosen last for sports. But Dudley got blood on his sweaters, too, the ones Petunia had found at the hand-me-down store, half price, because that was all a single mother working two secretary jobs could afford for her two boys, even with Vernon’s grudging child support.
They beat Harry for being small and they laughed at Dudley for being big, and slow, and dumb. Students jeered at him and teachers called Dudley out in class, smirked over his backwards letters.
Harry helped him with his homework, snapped out razored wit in classrooms when bullies decided to make Dudley the butt of anything; Harry cornered Dudley in their tiny cramped kitchen and called him smart, and clever, and ‘better ‘n all those jerks anyway’ on the days Dudley believed it least.
Dudley walked Harry to school and back, to his advanced classes and past the dumpsters, and grinned, big and slow and not dumb at all, at anyone who tried to mess with them.
But was that how Petunia got the news? Her husband complained about owls and staring cats all day long and in the morning Petunia found a little tyke on her doorsep. This was how the wizarding world chose to give the awful news to Lily Potter’s big sister: a letter, tucked in beside a baby boy with her sister’s eyes.
There were no Potters left. Petunia was the one who had to arrange the funeral. She had them both buried in Godric’s Hollow. Lily had chosen her world and Petunia wouldn’t steal her from it, not even in death. The wizarding world had gotten her sister killed; they could stand in that cold little wizard town and mourn by the old stone.
(Petunia would curl up with a big mug of hot tea and a little bit of vodka, when her boys were safely asleep, and toast her sister’s vanished ghost. Her nephew called her ‘Tune’ not 'Tuney,’ and it only broke her heart some days.
Before Harry was even three, she would look at his green eyes tracking a flight of geese or blinking mischieviously back at her and she would not think 'you have your mother’s eyes.’
A wise old man had left a little boy on her doorstep with her sister’s eyes. Petunia raised a young man who had eyes of his very own).
Petunia snapped and burnt the eggs at breakfast. She worked too hard and knew all the neighbors’ worst secrets. Her bedtime stories didn’t quite teach the morals growing boys ought to learn: be suspicious, be wary; someone is probably out to get you. You owe no one your kindness. Knowledge is power and let no one know you have it. If you get can get away with it, then the rule is probably meant for breaking.
Harry grew up loved. Petunia still ran when the letters came. This was her nephew, and this world, this letter, these eyes, had killed her sister. When Hagrid came and knocked down the door of some poor roadside motel, Petunia stood in front of both her boys, shaking. When Hagrid offered Harry a squashed birthday cake with big, kind, clumsy hands, he reminded Harry more than anything of his cousin.
His aunt was still shaking but Harry, eleven years and eight minutes old, decided that any world that had people like his big cousin in it couldn’t be all bad. “I want to go,” Harry told his aunt and he promised to come home.
Scammers reach people by phone, saying their data was hacked or
breached through iCloud, Apple’s online data storage service. The scam
is so effective because it sounds plausible, what with all the reports of data breaches, Business Insider
notes. The initial call is a robocall, which offers to connect the
prospective victim to a live person who can “help.” The individual on
the phone says they can fix the problem if provided personal information
(which could possibly include your Apple ID password, credit card
information). The scammers will use flattery and may even an offer of a
free iTunes gift card to poach your information, Apple says.
What you should do: Never share your Apple ID or temporary verification codes with anyone, Apple
advises. And using two-factor identification will add an extra layer of
protection to your account. If you receive an unsolicited call, hang up
immediately and contact Apple directly.
2. The shady taxi lost-and-found service
The scam: You are in a hurry and forget your bag or phone in the cab.
What do you do? Use a helpful service, like Yellowcabnyc.com, to locate
your missing item. Sounds legit, considering it has all the vital
keywords like NYC and yellow cab, right? Unfortunately, this “service”
offers to locate your lost item for $47, which of course goes directly
into the scammer’s pocket and your item is seemingly never retrieved,
the New York Post reported.
What you should do: If you lose something in a cab, call the cab company’s garage directly first, according to the City of New York government website. If you don’t recall the name of the cab company, you can complete this form. Additionally, you can call the lost property police precincts in each borough to see if your lost item was recovered. Not in New York City? You can still apply this advice no matter where you are, just by starting with the cab company’s office.
3. Airline ticket giveaway
The scam: If you put off booking that airline ticket for summer until now, you are probably thirsting for a last-minute deal. Then you happen to see an email or post on Facebook
or Craigslist offering one. All you need to do is wire cash for the
ticket to a Western Union account and you are given the ticket
confirmation number. Unfortunately when it’s time to travel, you find out the “ticket” you purchased doesn’t exist.
Scammers steal credit card information and purchase airline tickets, Scam Detector
says. They cancel the trip for credit but retain the ticket’s
confirmation number. Then they sell the ticket at a “discounted” rate on
a site like Craigslist, Kijiji, Oodle or Gumtree and make the sale look
legit because they provide the confirmation number.
What you should do: If you purchase an airline ticket online, make sure you go directly through the airline site or a reputable site like Expedia or Kayak.
While some deals may be tempting, they are most likely too good to be
true. If you purchase a fraudulent ticket, share what happened to you on
social media and contact the Federal Trade Commission.
4. The bogus government grant
The scam: Score! You receive a phone call that you’ve been awarded a healthy government grant because you paid your taxes
on time. All you need to do is provide your checking account
information so the money can be automatically transferred to your
account, but also to cover a one-time processing fee. The caller may say
they are from the “Federal Grants Administration” so the call sounds
legitimate, but the scam is to obtain access to your bank account.
hallmark of this scam is that scammers usually read from a script,
congratulating you for your eligibility and confirming that your
processing fee can be refunded if you aren’t completely satisfied,
according to the FTC. Also, the phone number will not have a caller ID,
although the call may appear to be coming from Washington, D.C.
Additionally, know you’ll never have to pay money for a “free”
The vacation rental house looks perfect online and the price is right —
but is it? Fake vacation rentals and time-share offers account for
about 8% of reports to the Better Business Bureau
scam tracker in 2017. Scammers may hijack an actual vacation rental ad,
posing as the agent to grab your money for the rental or will fabricate
a fake ad, designing a property that doesn’t even exist, the FTC says.
What you should do: Before you pay for a vacation rental,
be wary of someone asking you to wire the cash to them, the FTC
advises. Also, anyone who cannot connect personally because they are out
of the country or demands the security deposit up front should be a red
flag. Also, if the listing seems too good to be true, it probably is,
the BBB says.
6. The tax bill you don’t actually owe
The scam: About 5% of the scams reported to the BBB are criminals posing as IRS agents, threatening criminal prosecution for being remiss on paying your taxes.
The “agent” claims they can waive arrest if you pay a hefty fine
through a prepaid debit card, gift card or wire transfer, the IRS
says. The latest version of this scam includes the scammer telling the
potential victim that two certified letters were mailed to the victim
but were returned as being undeliverable.
What you should do:
Know that the IRS will never ask for credit or debit information over
the phone or demand immediate payment without the opportunity to appeal
the amount, the IRS advises. Also, hang up the phone if you are contacted by someone posing as an IRS agent, the BBB says.
7. The jury duty scam
While missing your jury summons by mail could happen, you wouldn’t be
harassed by someone on the phone if you do miss your notice. Scammers
typically pose as a U.S. marshall or the local police, AARP
says, claiming you may be arrested because you missed jury duty.
Supposedly in order to confirm the call, the caller will ask for your
Social Security number and any other ID and will then offer to wipe
clean the warrant for your arrest if you pay a fine — in the form of a prepaid debit or gift card.
What you should do: Federal courts will never ask for personal information by phone, the United States Courts
says, and will not ask for Social Security or credit card numbers.
Should you receive this call, hang up immediately and contact the agency
the caller claims to be calling from, typically a government agency,
Sheryl Presley, Oklahoma City Police Triad coordinator told AOL says.
8. The ransom call
Typically delivered under the cloak of night, the kidnapping scam plays
on your fears that a loved one was kidnapped but would be returned
safely as long as a ransom is paid. Scammers reach out by phone, email
or Facebook message, claiming if you don’t pay up in the hour, your
loved one dies, Men’s Health
reports. The reason scammers get away with this is because they pick
the right hour to deliver the scary message, usually in the middle of
the night, so you are too disoriented to challenge or question the call.
What you should do: First reach out to the “kidnapped victim” before you jump to any conclusions, Men’s Health
suggests. Even though you may annoy your buddy with a call at 2 a.m. to
make sure they’re safe, shelling out thousands of dollars in “ransom”
is far more annoying. Keep in mind, the scammers may have scanned your
social media to identify a connection who posted about traveling or
being on vacation, CBS Boston
notes. This will make it harder to verify the whereabouts of your loved
one. Call 911 in the event you receive a call like this and get police
9. Fraudulent telemarketing calls
The scam: Just when you thought your mobile phone
was safe, scammers target you with fake telemarketing calls. You first
receive an email saying telemarketers may be calling your mobile phone,
playing off the rumors of a 411 mobile directory, the FCC says. The idea behind the scam is if your number is listed on the 411 service, its open to telemarketing calls — which is completely untrue and would be illegal.
What you should do:
Never share any personal information or data by phone with a
telemarketer. Most telemarketing calls placed to your mobile phone are
illegal and should be reported to the FTC.
Another trick: Block the caller on your phone so at the very least
they’ll have to call from another number to reach you again.
10. The “spear phishing” email
The scam: While phishing accounts for 34% of the BBB’s
complaints this year, “spear phishing” is on the rise. Phishing is when
a business emails you and asks to “verify” your personal information,
like your Social Security number, credit card numbers or passwords.
“Spear phishing” gives the scam a more personal flavor, as it appears to
come from someone you know and sounds more personal, USA Today says. This approach is far more dangerous because your guard may not be up, making you more likely to fall for this scam.
What should you do: As with any scam, be cautious of any emails asking for you to click on a link, USA Today
advises. Also, legitimate companies aren’t going to ask for your
password, and if a “friend” sends the email, reach out separately and
ask if the friend really sent that message — sometimes tiny differences
in an email address are hard to spot. Also, fraudulent emails are
typically fraught with typos. Be wary of links that take you to a URL
that begins with “http” rather than “https,” which is more secure. Read more (7/6/17)
"i could do a whole Analysis on the hug i just,, really love it so much" Do it. I just love, love your metas/analysis and I'd love to see you talking about the hug <'3
ahhh thanks!! Ok, full sheith hug analysis, sure thing!
So, the way this all starts. A lot of people will say the handshake somehow makes the hug merely casual and downplays the intimacy of it, but I don’t think that’s the case at all. See, this part is really important because it’s completely different from every other hug we’ve seen with Keith. If you look at any other case, Keith never initiates. Someone else grabs him, and he has no consent or choice in it. Despite the fact that he eventually relaxes and hugs back, everyone else still just assumes the forced contact is fine, and you can see how startled and tense Keith is:
Alec Volturi and
Paul Lahote preference requested by anon! “Yoo hows my favorite blog?? I’m doin’ alright. Can i get a alec or paul imagine where they’re scared about reader leaving him. Due to alec being a vampire that likes human blood. Or if you do pauls about him being a hothead. Hopefully it makes sense” Hope you like it!
In truth, you’d never been wholly comfortable with the meal-plan served in the Italian villa, given your awkward position as would-be appetizer. Despite your position in this so strange, vampiric court, despite your knowledge of the binding law protecting you from intentional harm, your stomach continued to twist and knot in fear. This discomfort, this terror stemmed not from your relations within the Volturi; no, even Aro had been kind, welcoming even, whispering about how overjoyed he was that his darling Alec had found such a promising mate. It was clear that he had a handful of particularly advantageous plans when the sunrise of your immortality broke the horizon, and thus took an affectionate liking to you. The subject of your mortality was a bit of a taboo, especially considering the diet of choice your new companions favoured, but your never felt discriminated for the beating of your heart.
It was never about your pulse, your necessary breath, the blood flowing through your veins, protected only by a thin layer of vulnerable flesh. Politically, you were fine. You were practically one of the guards, your transformation date set for sometime in the summer. It was never about you. It was about the thirty tourists you saw enter the throne room every week, it was their screaming that haunted your dreams, their horror that plunged the knife into your abdomen, churning your insides until you were reduced to nothing. It was your mate’s participation, his willing participation, that struck fear into your still-beating heart. If you had wandered into the villa, expecting a tour of Italian architecture, a history lesson on pillars or portraits, would he have slaughtered you as he slaughtered the others? Would he have spared you a second thought?
You were doubtful.
You stood with your back facing the entrance to your bedchamber, your eyes dissecting the intricate carvings laid into the marble of the walls. Though you had been distanced from the heart of the Volturi’s society, you could hear the echos reverberating down the hall nonetheless. Alec had noticed your discomfort and suggested a change of scenery, though you understood that even his residence in Verona would carry the weight of Volterra’s infractions. You were chewing the edge of your fingernail (a nervous habit you hoped would be kicked, finally, when you were torn from your human life) when your ears picked up on the subtlest wisp of movement, announcing the presence of your silent lover. Soon after, his hands were cooling your elbows, folding over your crossed arms, his honeyed breath polluting the air you inhaled. His lips pressed to your neck, your mind jumping from affection to unease as you noted the placement of his kiss. His voice, so soft, so sweet for so experienced a killer, sang against your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek.
“Darling, you’re troubled,” he observed, his icy fingers ghosting over your hands, lacing his fingers through yours, a tender gesture you were not expecting to be accompanied by the surprising warmth his frozen fingers carried. He’d fed recently, more recently than you cared to dwell on. A stranger’s blood warmed his frigid tissues. You flinched away from his touch, untangling yourself from his fingers, avoiding contact with his violent eyes, his angel’s lips parted in wounded confusion. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Is something the matter?” He extended his hand, and you once more slunk away from his touch. He ducked his head, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks, exhaling lowly. When he spoke, his voice had changed drastically, harbouring an injury you had yet to notice on his physical form. “Aro warned me this would happen.” You did not speak on the matter, but recalled easily the moment you had departed from Volterra, your hand sliding from Aro’s papery skin, his eyes reading your most recent thoughts, likely painting vivid imagery to accompany your internalized terror. Of course he would mention this to Alec. Your inability to cope directly affected him. “This is about the blood.” His voice did not lilt in inquiry; there was no question, no confusion muddying his understanding. You lifted your face to address him, his eyes a blazing crimson, burning from within with the glow of his most recent meal. Your words clung to the insides of your throat, scratching their way downward, refusing to surface. Alec’s jaw clenched, his gaze lowering to the floor’s mosaic, his brow furrowing the silken plane of his forehead. It was almost inhumane to witness, to cause, distress in so beautiful a creature.
“If I could avoid… the way that I feed, I would do it for you,” he continued, his voice softer, quieter than before, his words dripping with sorrow like an open wound, his tone ringing with a melancholic tenor. “Once you’ve turned, I believe, I hope, that you will understand the difficulty we face. This is not a choice, the way that we feed. Our thirst is not a decision; it’s a compulsion. I have very little control of how I ensure your safety… If I were to refrain, I’m afraid I would be unable to keep myself from causing you harm.” Your breathing grew shallow as he explained to you the honest truths behind his so frequent feasting, his plump lips downturned at the corners, his eyes projecting a most uncommon weakness in one of the most powerful man you had the pleasure of knowing. He pursed his lips before exhaling a broken sigh, his chest heaving unnaturally. “If this is not something that you can live with… I’d understand.” His voice, usually so determined, so confident, now drifted into silence. The only sound available to your feeble ears was your steady pattern of breathing. You turned your face away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, your heart breaking for the angel you’d reduced to ash and cinder before you. After a moment, Alec broke his uncharacteristic silence, his voice illustrating a heart, an organ you knew no longer beat within the chiseled stone of his chest, breaking. If he was capable of producing tears, you had no doubt they would have fallen freely from his scarlet eyes, painting glimmering trails against the alabaster of his complexion. “Will you leave me?” You turned, shocked by his inquiry. How was he able to fathom a universe where you did not see yourself at his side? Had your affections fallen flat? Were you unable to illustrate to him the depth of your love? You crossed to him, your fingers angling his chin upward, forcing him to meet your eye, his irises blooming dangerously beneath a broken brow.
“I could not leave you if remaining by your side ensured the end of my life. To be parted from you would cause me unbearable pain. You are not what I despise, and your thirst… I can’t blame you for that. It’s the executions, Alec, that bother me. You’re herding people to their deaths by the hundreds every year. I can’t help but be bothered by the deaths. I’m only human, for now. If there is another way that you can live, tell me, and we can pursue that path. Together.” His eyes softened, his breath flowing over your face. Though his brow remained furrowed, his lips formed a cautious grin. He glanced at the position of the sun through your veiled window, his eyes returning to your face. He lifted his palm to cradle your cheeks, his face alight with the force of the words he spoke next.
“There is a coven in America, the Cullens. If we leave now, we could reach their home by tomorrow. I never thought I would say this…” His thumbs stroked over your cheekbones, the weight of his decision weighing heavily on his shoulders. “I believe they may be able to help us.”
You had been warned of this very scenario from the moment Paul’s realities had been revealed to you, the moment you became involved in the fiery universe that he was so ingrained in. You’d seen the evidence of a destructive temper on Emily’s face, scarring her for life, a warning sign to the other members of Sam’s pack: don’t get too close. You hadn’t had any issues as far as trust went; Paul was relatively calm when you were around, incredibly cautious to the point of over-protectiveness, and as kind and loving as the day you’d met him. He was well-prepared to prevent injuries similar to Emily’s, or worse, and handled his rage better than he had before you stumbled into him. According to his pack, he’d been a bit of a loose canon before imprinting, but your presence acted as a sedative to his usual rowdy, unpredictable nature. You’d been assured that his mannerisms, specifically his impulse to phase, had been quieted after he imprinted, but his actions spoke to combat the promises his brothers made.
Their observations had not been entirely false; Paul was, without doubt, a changed man, but he carried with him a fire that even you could not put out. While he wasn’t explosive, his fuse was relatively short. You hadn’t had the chance to argue, given the amount of time you’d known him, but you’d be witness to his quick temper. You’d never felt threatened in any way other than the typical back-away-if-he-starts-shaking, but that applied to any of the wolves. They all had off-days, but Paul was never someone to be feared, never someone to be wary of. He treated you with the utmost respect and care, but even he couldn’t put a stopper on the floodgates when you’d been approached by a group of men on First Beach. Their salutations had been more insult than greeting, their words slipping like an oil slick from between their unwashed teeth, their faces gleaming with a drunken sweat you could smell radiating from their bodies as you passed them by. Paul, of course, was not about to stand for this ill-treatment. You’d felt the vibrations rolling from his body through the hand that held his, heard his laboured breathing by your ear. You had enough time to extract your hand from his and press a palm to his chest before turning to the trio of vulgar men, warning them to leave before someone (here meaning them, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you also spoke in your own defense) was hurt. One look at Paul was enough to seal your threat in concrete. There was no question about his anger, and his bare torso was promise enough that any retribution would be undeniably painful. They fled, joining a throng of townspeople vacating the beach. Your eyes locked on his, his lips curling over his teeth. You’d attempted to whisper a few calming words before realizing how far gone he truly was. You backed away from his trembling form, every visible muscle tensing on his body as he too backed away from you.
“Y/n,” he snarled, his eyes flitting around as his convulsions intensified, watching the last of the beach’s crowd fade into the night. His unspoken plea was clear: run. You turned your back on him and joined the masses abandoning the darkness of the waters, their voices nearly masking the tear of clothing as Paul exploded from his skin. You turned in time to watch his tail disappear into the tree line. You headed for Emily’s place, hoping to find Sam or Jared holed-up in her kitchen. One of them must be willing to talk Paul down from his heated precipice. You knew they’d all done it before. Your trek was short-lived, and the harmonies reaching from Emily’s open windows carried promises of aid in the form of two, possibly three werewolves. You helped yourself in, your eyes finding Sam’s in the crowd surrounding Emily’s table. His face, lightened by Emily’s company, went dark when he met your gaze. It seemed he already knew. You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair, watching as Jared, Quil, and Emily focused their attention on you.
“Anyone willing to track my boyfriend for me?” Jared cursed aloud, damning Paul to Hell as he dropped his half-eaten muffin onto his plate, clearly irritated with his friend’s lack of control. Quil offered an apologetic grimace, clapping you on the shoulder as he made his way to the door with Jared nipping at his heels. Sam said nothing outside of asking for Paul’s last-known location, departing with a a final glance at Emily, his fists balled around a pair of jean shorts. Emily’s hands fluttered about her table, sweeping crumbs from the surface, her eyes on your face. She nodded you over, inviting you to sit as she prepared her dinner, promising you that Paul’s episodes never lasted more than half an hour, and that was before you came along. She was almost certain he’d be back sooner. You chatted with her for the next fifteen minutes, your mind preoccupied, replaying the fading image of Paul ducking into the woods on the blank expanse of your eyelids. It wasn’t until Emily offered you a cup of tea that you noticed your hands were trembling. “Maybe I’m a wolf too,” you whispered, your voice failing your attempt at humour, Emily’s arms wrapping around your back as your body shuddered. She, of all people, knew the fear that now pooled in your stomach. Another ten minutes passed before you heard their approach, the sound of footsteps crunching against soil paired with Sam’s low, angry whispers. The three members of Paul’s rescue party had returned, and all three entered without a word, sitting at the table in absolute silence. Emily’s eyes focused on the doorway before finding yours, shooting you a sisterly glance you understood to be cautionary.
“Y/n,” your name was soft on his lips, a gentle tone meant to exhibit his level of calmness. You turned in your seat, abandoning your tea, your eyes falling on his form, propped-up against the open doorway. He gestured for you to join him outside, his hand running through his shorn hair. They did not tremble. You excused yourself and followed him onto Emily’s lawn, watching his shoulders heave with as he sighed, his back gleaming beneath the light of the moon. His hands were swinging at his sides, his muscles tensing and releasing as he paced. When he stopped, you were a good distance away from the house, out of earshot, you assumed, and away from any scrutiny. He turned, slowly, his every movement calculated, the effort behind his actions obvious. He was going out of his way to eliminate any perception you could have of him being a threat to your safety. He kept his distance, addressing you in a whisper from a handful of feet away, his bare feet digging into the earth as he spoke. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That was… I put you at risk, and I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes lifted to the stars, his head shaking with frustration. “And, you know, I can’t even promise that it won’t happen again. I’m not in control, not like that. This can happen again, and that…” his voice dropped off, his sentence hanging open, fluttering in the breeze. When his eyes returned to yours, his face was broken, his lips pursed to keep them from quivering. “I mean, I’d understand if it’s too much. As much as it kills me, I can understand if you need to go.” He raised his hands, surrendering. “I want you safe, that’s all. I can’t promise you’ll be safe around me. I can’t.” You shook your head, closing the distance between you, continuing even after he mirrored your first few steps, eager to keep you out of harm’s way.
“Paul, if anything, you went out of your way to keep me safe tonight. You warned me that you were losing control, and you backed up, and you gave me time to step back.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you refused to let berate himself further. “You are not a threat to me, and I’m not going anywhere.” He exhaled deeply, relieved, and closed his arms around your back, pulling you to the warmth of his chest.
So if you wanted some prompts I have some for AvAc Winteriron: 1) Bucky is crushing hard on Tony and is irrationally jealous of Misty, whose arm Tony made her. He also wants an arm spesifically made for him by Tony! Even if the one he has is working perfectly fine already!
2) After arriving at the Academy, Bucky is shown around by Tony, and is really drawn to him. He’s so impressed by everything Tony has done for the academy (not that Tony likes to mention it, he only does so in passing as if it isn’t important), and after staying there for a while he is slightly horrified by how some people treat him/take advantage of him all the time.
3) Every new song Bucky writes has subtle hints about how he is in love with Tony, not that Tony ever notices. Janet, however, does, and confronts Bucky about it to be sure he won’t break Tony’s heart, because she knows how Tony feels about Bucky as well.
These were so cute, I combined all three. This is nearly 6k, so ‘ware the readmore! (I’ll put it up on Ao3 as soon as I get a chance, for easier reading/bookmarking…)
welcome to Avengers Academy!”
turned toward the voice, wary. When someone said “welcome” at
Hydra, it usually meant they were planning to humiliate you or get
the drop on you with an ambush.
they could try. The Winter Soldier had carved out a niche of respect
at Hydra, and he would make one here, if he had to.
it’s Jan or Pepper doing the welcome tour, but Pep’s off
interviewing some potential recruits and Jan’s right in the middle
of planning next month’s parties, so I said I’d do it. So hi,
welcome – I said that already, didn’t I? – um, I’m Tony Stark,
nice to meet you!”
looked him over. Tony Stark had armored boots and a gauntlet on his
extended hand, and was wearing a garish red and yellow jacket over
skin-tight jeans. Those jeans did not look practical for combat, but
they did an excellent job of showing off Tony’s legs. Tony had
artfully fluffy hair that made Bucky want to mess it up, and a
scraggly attempt at facial hair that was kind of cute in its utter
failure. He’d started off with a bright smile, but it was beginning
to fade, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
okay,” Tony said, dropping the extended hand and rubbing it on his
other arm uncertainly. “So you’re the Winter Soldier, huh? Is
that… what you want us to call you? I mean, most everyone’s got a
codename and, you know, a real name, but we’re pretty divided on
what we want people to call us. I’m Tony and Jan is Jan and Pepper
is Pepper unless she’s really
at you in which case she’s Ms. Potts. But you should see how mad
Enchantress gets if you try to call her Amora, and man, do not
Hulk Bruce, he smashes extra
if you do that. And ‘Spider-Man’ thinks he’s maintaining a
secret identity, so we pretty much humor him and call him that if
he’s got his mask on, you know?”
considered this. “Names are nothing but words / it is the soul
within that hurts,” he tried. Not the best meter or rhyme, but
there was a theme there worth exploring.
stared at him blankly for a moment. “Um. So you’re… cool with
whatever, I guess. Okay. Well, I’m supposed to show you around the
campus, so come on, I’ll make sure you know where everything
led Bucky around the campus in a wide arc. Bucky already knew the
campus layout, of course, having studied it in preparation for
attack. But it was very different, seeing things with his own eyes,
and Tony’s constant stream of chatter was often amusing.
nightclubs, in fact,” Tony was saying proudly. “There’s the
Galaxy club there–” He pointed toward a garish neon building.
“–and the Guardians put on a mean death metal show, I gotta say.
But a lot of us prefer something a little more homey, and that’s
Club A. Pool table, jukebox, great dance floor.” He looked sidelong
at Bucky, then shrugged. “Cap spends a lot of time in there, so…”
didn’t let himself wince, but he wanted to. His feelings about Cap
– Steve – were… complicated. But Tony was looking at him
hopefully, waiting for some sort of reaction, and Bucky was oddly
disinclined to disappoint him. “The bartender is a robot,” he
Oh, yeah, I made him.”
yourself?” It took – had
a team of three Hydra scientists to merely perform maintenance on Bucky’s
sure, robots are easy. The challenging bit was upgrading him so it
didn’t cause any long-term damage when his head comes off.”
stared at Tony.
shrugged. “Crossbones keeps ripping his head off, and I don’t
know how many times I’ve tried to tell him they don’t like that,
but he won’t listen, so it seemed easier to just make it so it
wouldn’t hurt them too much, you know?” Bucky had no trouble believing
that. Crossbones was… unpleasant. It wasn’t enough for him to
accomplish his missions. He made it personal.
was still talking about the robot. “… already had some
easy-repair joints for the robots at the blasting range, so I just
had to find a way to–”
like something Bucky would enjoy. “Blasting range?” He swung his
favorite rifle off his shoulder. “Show me.”
————————————————————————————— Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader Request: Hey
can you please do a Pietro Maximoff imagine where you are a new Avenger with
the power of energy manipulation but you’re really shy and quiet and he
overhears a jealous Shield officer picking on you and he makes him apologize
and comforts you
Warnings: Slight violence Notes: Hey guys, this was meant to be out on Tuesday but as per usual I procrastinated writing it. Anyway this is just a short little imagine that I thought was kinda cute. Enjoy! —————————————————————————————
Mutant. Enhanced. Gifted. Freak. They were
all words people used to describe people of your kind. People with powers. You
got off lightly if your ‘special gifts’ were man made such as Captain America,
But for those like you, that were born with your powers, that had no real
explanation outside of genetics for your abilities, you were brandished a
freak, someone to be wary of and avoid at all costs. However this didn’t seem
to stop all the big organisations trying to collect you all, both SHIELD, HYDRA
and even AIM had shown interest in people of your kind, but you made your
decision, picking the side of good over the side of evil.
Though this didn’t mean you were always
welcome in the ranks of SHIELD. Many of the lower down agents resented you,
feared you even. Luckily for you, you quickly bonded with Pietro and his
sister, Wanda, the famed Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. They were both
entranced by your ability to manipulate energy, to be able to create anything
you wanted by simply manipulating the forces around you. But despite their joy
at the powers you possessed you still avoided showcasing them in public places,
fearing others reactions. This wasn’t helped by your shy and conservative nature.
You’d learned from experience that is was safer to try and blend in, stay
unnoticed, then to bring attention to yourself.
This was the same reason you often found
yourself in such predicaments as you were in now. A well built SHIELD officer
had cornered you on your way back to your room after training. “So the little
Avenger thinks she special eh?” The man sneered, pushing your shoulder none to
gently. Shaking your head you just backed up further till your back hit the
wall. “Course you do, got all the higher
ups fawning over you and your ‘special abilities’.” He scoffed, towering over
your small frame. “When all you are is a disgusting little freak.” He spat,
malice clear in his eyes. However the second the words left the mans mouth he
was thrown back, a familiar pair of blue eyes replacing his. “Are you okay?”
Pietro asked, his anger clear in his voice. Nodding your head, Pietro span
around to face the man who had been cornering you seconds earlier, shielding
you in the process. “What did you say? Pietro growled, hands in fists by his
side. Wiping the blood from his now split lip the man slowly pushed himself off
the floor. “I said… freak.” He spat, a small smirk on his face. Before he could
move another muscle Pietro had him in a headlock, pinning him to the cold
ground. “You apologize right now…” Pietro growled in the man’s ear, “Or I’m
going to make things very… very painful for you.” Pietro smiled maliciously,
putting more pressure on the mans back, him letting out a small groan in
protest. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry okay?” The man wheezed out, clearly in a lot of
pain. “That’s better, now if I see you within 5 foot of Y/N again I won’t let
you off that easy.” Pietro said before zooming back to your side and scooping
you up in his arms, making a quick get away back to your room.
Placing you down gently on your bed, Pietro
sat on the floor, back leaning against it. “Prinţesă, are you okay?” Pietro asked, looking up at you from the floor. “I
will be.” You whispered, mindlessly fiddling with the hand he left on your bed.
“Thankyou Piet.” You smiled shyly, running your thumb along his knuckles. “You’re
no freak Prinţesă
and you do not deserve to be spoken to that way.” He smiled, gently squeezing
your hand. Smiling you just lay back, thanking whatever was out there that you
had Pietro to always watch your back.
so i have a lot of thoughts about Hitch, and honestly i have never
really collected or posted them before but i’ve been thinking about her
character a lot lately, and so i decided maybe i should do so. There’s
always been stuff floating around about her, and i never really
resonated too hard with most of the fandom views, so i think i’ll try
putting into my words what i think about her (and some on marlo)
as a character and where her position *may* stand right now (if she
shows up again.) This wasn’t supposed to get so in depth but it did, and hopefull it can help other people see her better than how she presents herself at face value, becuase she is SO interesting.
Here you are! My first ever meta post!
What happens next may shock you! More under the cut!
I’m self indulging myself in a bunch of cutesy Doommetra headcanons since it’s 3am, the perfect time to overthink ships.
Doomfist probably keeps his relationship with her private to ensure her safety, only claiming his interactions with her are purely to convince her to join Talon and for connections to Vishkar. He’d be out for blood if something happened to her just because she was close to him, and he’s wary of someone like Sombra using her against him one day.
He likes calling Symmetra his little Sungura because her headset looks like bunny ears. It flusters her each time.
He’s also very conscious of his strength when he’s around her. He may have no fear in battle, but with her, he’s always a little nervous that he may hurt her on accident.
She doesn’t take gifts well, but he likes to send her gifts to show affection. He thinks it’s a little funny to see her come back to him with the boxes in hand, demanding that he return the items. He adores her modest nature and it just makes him want to spoil her that much more. He would give her the world if she asked, and constantly tells her how he’d do anything for her. She never asks for much, usually just a do-over on chess.
They both like to talk about current events and their different views sometimes leads to debates. If things ever get too heated, he snuggles up to her. Symmetra thinks this is unfair conduct.
He fell in love with her after watching her wander around in his private library. He didn’t mean to develop feelings for her; he just wanted to recruit her, but seeing her light up over classic novels tugged at his heart. Soon after, everything she seemed to do was a little endearing. Now, they enjoy reading together. She will sit in his lap or lay across his chest to do so.
He likes to study her hardlight technology and asks a lot of questions regarding it. It’s what interested him in the first place, and he’d love to have her on Talon.
She patches him up when he comes back from missions sometimes. He likes to be pampered with the extra attention.
She enjoys listening to him talk about martial arts and watches him demonstrate for her. Sometimes, he feels the need to teach her some things for self defense in the event that anything ever happens to her. He prays that she’ll never need to use them, but it’s better safe than sorry.
Symmetra’s prosthetic actually came from his company. He recognized the model when he first laid eyes on it. He’s impressed that she takes care of it so well that it still looks like new.
While he knows he has no business seeking love when he has Talon and his business to run, he’s certain that he’d definitely marry her if she’d have him. Sometimes, thinking about it is what gets him through the day. She never really had any plans for marriage, but she would at least give it some thought if he actually proposed.
He’s had a number of partners in the past, while she’s never had one before him. At first, he was a little aggressive in his pursuit of her, but he soon realized she wasn’t fond of it. He toned down and respected her boundaries. He’s extremely patient with her and never pushes her to do anything, always stopping if she says so. He puts her needs above his.
They’re both fine not seeing each other for days on in since they’re both busy people. He definitely reaches out to her more though and calls just to hear her voice. He’s debated on whether or not he should just get her to move in with him.
While he has more extravagant ways of showing affection, she has simple, quiet ways. Sometimes, he’ll find little written notes around to see that she’s done something for him. Occasionally, she’ll make him a lunch to take with him on missions. His teammates have no idea why he has smiley faces on his napkins, but they’re not dumb enough to ask. He thinks her notes are the cutest thing.
if there’s one thing I want to be known for it’s trans Spring Man hcs
As I mentioned before, I think that by the time he’s in the ARMS League he’s already had top surgery. Prior to that he did participate in some lower level ARMS competitions while binding, and came away from them in so much pain that he decided to postpone his plans for a career in ARMS fighting until after he could afford top surgery. This is why he joined relatively late - Spring Man is canonically the newest ARMS fighter to join the League, yet he’s also far from the youngest.
He’s fairly open about being trans! He refuses to answer inappropriate questions (e.g. deadname questions, plans for surgery), but he’s always happy to educate people who are willing to learn. He gets his fair share of haters but he ignores them in favour of supporting other trans folks, especially young kids.
He’s unofficially considered the face of transmasc rep among celebrities, as the ARMS League canonically averages 100% viewership and so literally everyone knows who he is. He doesn’t have the time to do a lot serious activism work, but he does what he can to help.
He is, however, very adamant on promoting safe binding practices. He’s bruised a rib or two back when he was trying to do ARMS fighting while binding, and he dreads to think how much damage he could have done to himself if he hadn’t known better and used ace bandages or duct tape.
It’s half-coincidental-half-deliberate that his fighting outfit mainly comprises of the trans flag colours. Spring Man just wanted to put together something that looked half decent, ended up with the trans flag colours, thought it was a cool coincidence and so decided to keep it like that.
He is very fond of trans puns, though they don’t come as easily as bi puns.
He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten stuck trying to put on or take off a binder. He is very grateful that he no longer has to deal with binders.
Here you go my lovelies. 10,000+ words! This one took longer than expected because I just couldn’t stop writing. For some reason this entire fic is in the third person. I don’t know why. It just didn’t feel right when I tried to write the OC in the first person.
They all sat around the chapel’s table, voting on their
latest retaliation efforts. Lee counted the unanimous ‘Yay’ and slammed his
gavel down on the table. The men began to murmur, agreeing with the measures to
be taken and thrilled to get to drinking. It was Friday after all.
“Wait!” Lee stood up, gesturing to the group to wait.
They all turned their attention to him, “I hired a new bartender. Be nice.”
A few eyebrows raised at his announcement. They knew
about the bar being short staffed, but they didn’t think he’d been in the
market for more employees. Needless to say, the boys were intrigued. He’d never
warned them to be nice before. He thought about the woman he hired. She was far
from timid, but she’d be a shock to the rest of the boys. They definitely
wouldn’t expect her to be standing behind their bar, doling out the shots.
He turned, wary lest someone had appeared at his heels with a fresh problem, but his face relaxed as I gestured upward.
Frank, urged to look at some wonder of nature whilst preoccupied with a problem, would have paused just long enough not to seem discourteous, said, “Oh, yes, lovely, isn’t it?” and returned at once to the maze of his thoughts. Jamie lifted his face to the glowing glory of the heavens and stood still.
What is the matter with you? I thought to myself. Can’t you let Frank Randall rest in peace?
Jamie put an arm about my shoulders, and sighed.
“In Scotland,” he said, “the sky would be like lead all day, and even at the twilight, ye’d see no more than the sun sinking into the sea like a red-hot cannonball. Never a sky like this one is.”
“What makes you think of Scotland?” I asked, intrigued that his mind should run as mine did, on things of the past.
“Dawn and twilight, and the season of the year,” he said, and his wide mouth curled slightly upward in reminiscence. “Whenever there is a change in the air around me, it makes me think of what has been, and what is now. I dinna always do it in a house, but when I’m living rough, I’ll often wake dreaming of folk I once knew, and then sit quiet in the twilight, thinking of other times and places.” He shrugged a little. “So now the sun is going down, and it is Scotland in my mind.”
“Oh,” I said, comforted at having such an explanation. “That must be it.”
“Must be what?” The setting sun bathed his face in gold, softening the lines of strain as he looked down at me.
“I was thinking of other times and places, too,” I said, and leaned my head against his shoulder. “Just now, though … I can’t think of anything but this.”
“Oh?” He hesitated for a moment, but then said, carefully, “I dinna much mention it, Sassenach, for if the answer’s ‘yes,’ there’s nay so much I can do to mend it—but do ye often long for … the other times?”
I waited for the space of three heartbeats to answer; I heard them, Jamie’s heart beating slow under my ear, and I curled my left hand closed, feeling the smooth metal of the gold ring on my finger.
In the midst of your mundane routine life, you meet a man who changes it all.
Namjoon x Reader; Fluff
A/N: Because my sister requested some Nams fluff and because it was raining today >.< Enjoy ~
Your life was routine.
worked endlessly, got home, hopped into pajamas, turned on the television, heated
a microwaveable dinner, went to bed, and repeated the entire cycle over again.
didn’t hate it; it made things less stressful when you did what you had to
without putting much thought into it. Yet, on some days, you wished there was
more. Was this all there was to being an adult? Was this what your life was
going to look like years down the road? Was this what you had spent years of
school to do?
this the success people strived to achieve?
despite these thoughts and empty promises of changing it up, you never stepped
out of your mundane lifestyle.
was safe. It was comfortable.
was secure in your little world of things you knew for certain.
you got into one of your moods, you spent it walking around Ttukseom Island.
You hated being alone, but you liked having time to think. Over at Ttukseom, you
could be by yourself yet still be amidst the crowds of people.
People of every age and background gathered
there. All from different walks of life. Some people just strolling, others
rushing to get to places, others spending quality time with family. You were
one of many. It was a comforting thought that maybe you weren’t the only one
out there feeling lost.
had everything you wanted. You had a wonderful studio apartment, a great and
trustworthy group of friends, and a good paying job that highly valued you. But
while you thought that having all of these things would make you happy once
upon a time, the current reality was that you weren’t completely satisfied. So
you often went to Ttukseom to reflect, but that was the closest you would get to
taking a risk. You never acted on any of these thoughts.
particularly cloudy day, you were admiring the gloomy skies that seemed to
match your thoughtful mood. Suddenly, the same skies opened up and it began
once, you were prepared with an umbrella. So while everyone was running to find
shelter, you continued to walk calmly amidst their chaos. Food carts closed up,
picnics were packed, and those who were exercising disappeared. You smiled to
yourself at this slight change of pace. You were usually one of those people,
but now it was interesting to observe them from the outside. As you continued
your walk, you spotted a silhouette of a man up ahead. He was sitting down, no
umbrella, no hood; he was simply just staring at the sky with earphones in.
thought he was a bit crazy and part of you worried for his health. So slowly,
you approached his figure and covered him worriedly with your umbrella. A bit
startled at the shadow hovering over him, he turned to look up at you with wide
eyes. You mirrored his surprise because you hadn’t expected him to be so young
and attractive. Thankfully, the chilly breeze created by the storm offset the
warmth building on your cheeks.
he grinned at you warmly.
we get out of the rain?” you inquired.
get wet?” You furrowed your brows, wondering why you had to answer
something so obvious.
chuckled. “Why is that something to be scared of? I’m all wet and I’m
stared at him. He had a point.
your clothes…and you might get sick…“ you tried to reason.
you ever experienced the rain?” he asked, his attention back to scanning
the view in front of him and his mind flittering back to his thoughts.
I’m experiencing it now?“
he laughed. “You’re just simply passing by the rain.”
tilted your head to the side. “How is that different from experiencing the
lips curled up as he beckoned you to squat down to his level, so you did. He
placed his earphones into your ears. Kindly, he took off his jacket and placed
it on the ground next to him, gesturing for you to sit down.
were never one to interact with strangers, but he intrigued you and he didn’t
seem like someone you should be wary of. He gave off a very comfortable and
friendly vibe. Besides, you had nothing on you that was of value to steal
anyway. So you obliged and sat beside him. Carefully, he grabbed the umbrella
from your grasp. You bowed shyly, aware that your shoulders were touching in
order to fit under your tiny umbrella.
you sat and listened, but you heard nothing through the earphones.
it playing?“ you asked.
don’t hear anything.“
you do.” he grinned knowingly.
quieted down and heard the muffled sounds of the rain happening around you.
realized what he meant. Grinning as he observed your realization, his hand
reached outside of the umbrella, staining his fingers with droplets. You stared
at him as he did so.
was by far the oddest thing you had ever done in your life. Sitting next to a
hott stranger, sharing an umbrella, and even sharing earphones to simply listen to the rain. Yet strangely, you
felt at peace.
both spent a minute or two taking in the beautiful scene in front of you. The
sky was painted eeriely gray, as if the clouds were large puffs of smoke. The
streets were filled with fallen leaves and abandoned trash. The sounds of
chattering behind you were drowned out by the raindrops hitting every surface
they could find. You were in awe. Had storms always been this alluring and
you want to experience the rain?“ he mumbled, his hands still providing a
destination for the droplets.
glanced at him. "I thought that’s what we were doing?”
chuckled shyly and shook his head. “Experiencing things isn’t just
squinted at him skeptically. “Then how do I experience the rain?”
looked at you and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes connected. His face
beamed at you, as if your question was the best news he had ever heard. Your
eyes caught sight of two adorable dimples on each cheek and you couldn’t help
but think that this man was both child-like and mature simultaneously.
ready?“ he grinned mischievously.
gulped; your heart racing. You weren’t a risk taker by a long shot. He observed
the hesitancy in your expression and gave you a warm smile.
you just have to go for it.” he muttered before shutting your umbrella
gasped as the freezing rain found its way onto your skin. The man laughed as
you sat there astounded. He stood up and outstretched his hand out to you.
were still flabbergasted. You weren’t sure whether you were annoyed that you
were soaked or that he had sprung this on you before you gave your consent.
Then his hand came into view and you glanced up at him. He was smiling at you
with a lively twinkle in his eye, like he was enjoying himself. Oddly enough,
your hand found its way into his and you were pulled up to your feet easily.
that he was standing, you realized that this man was tall with slender legs
like a model. He was dressed in jeans and a yellow oversized sweater
comfortably. When you looked at his face, it seemed to give away that he was
wiser than he let on yet humble and gentle. When he looked at the sky, he was
looking through it, as if he was trying to penetrate into the secrets of the
world, to unlock all of its mysteries.
he chuckled, catching you gawking at him, and you hurriedly averted your gaze.
what?” you blushed.
does it feel to experience the rain?“ he laughed.
cleared your mind of your thoughts about this stranger and just focused on what
was happening around you. Looking down at your hand, you felt the rain slide
down your skin smoothly. The air was cold yet the rain was warm. You smiled
widely as you realized the truth of his statement before.
Why were people so afraid of getting soaked
by the rain?
you do this often?” you asked him.
smile faded as his question resonated with you. It seemed to be exactly what
you needed to hear for a few years now, as you teetered back and forth indecisively
about the constant routine of your days. It dawned on you that …
You weren’t actually living.
You weren’t experiencing everything life had to offer.
So in burst of inspiration, you did the most forward thing you had ever done.
you want to grab coffee with me?” you blurted out to this complete
time, he was taken aback but he stated cheekily, “I don’t know. I don’t
really drink coffee with strangers.”
two laughed knowingly.
Namjoon.“ he introduced with a courteous bow.
you like to use your umbrella?“ he handed it to you and you shook your
quite like experiencing the rain.”
smiled at each other.
inside you was lit aflame and you felt like you were seeing the world with a
new set of eyes. People looked at you two like you were crazy as you walked by,
holding an umbrella yet not using it. But although you were drenched and shivering,
you had never felt more alive than when you were listening to Namjoon talk. You
wanted to see the world through his eyes more and more. It was a world you
wanted to see too.
coffee, you found out that he was traveling around before the start of a full
time job. For some strange reason, you confided your thoughts to him about
being bored with your life. You divulged that you felt ungrateful because you
had achieved so much yet you weren’t happy. Constantly, you felt like something
was missing. For some reason, you felt like he would have the answer. And for
some reason, he knew exactly what you needed to hear.
happiness is created.“ he simply stated, as if it was a common fact.
You fluttered your eyes in surprise.
laughed. “Most people think happiness is received, right?”
nodded as you listened intently.
it’s actually something that you continuously create. No one can give you the
happiness you want, other than you.“ he explained. "You create your
own version of happiness because you’re the only one who knows how.”
you could ask him anything else, his phone rang and he fumbled frantically to
pick it up.
shoot. I have to go.“ he cursed as he grabbed his things in a flurry.
"It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Good luck with everything!”
were flustered by the suddenness of his departure. All you could do was watch
him stumble out of the cafe, clutching his phone to his ear hurriedly.
Namjoon was a whirlwind to say the least, but that day in the rain and his
words stayed with you long after the week had gone by. Every time you stepped
out of your apartment, you wore earphones but played nothing. You listened to
the sounds of every season, of every type of weather. And slowly, you set out
to create your own happiness.
was easier than you had expected. You learned to cook, albeit very slowly and
clumsily. You tried new restaurants and experienced eating all kinds of foods.
You did things that piqued your interest. You did things on your own despite
always having preferred people’s company. And you wondered what had even held
you back in the first place.
it fear of the unknown? Fear of failure? Fear that it wouldn’t make you happy? Maybe
it was just simply fear itself.
whenever it rained, you were reminded of Namjoon.
wondered what he was doing. Was he standing outside without an umbrella again?
Was he travelling somewhere, staring at some amazing view, living life to the
still frequented Ttukseom, hoping to bump into him. You sat in the spot where
you had met and felt foolish, dreaming about a man that you had only known for
about an hour. Months went by with no
sign of him. His words had turned your life around and he was with you in every
new thing that you tried. He was in every happiness you created. Yet, you
didn’t even know his full name.
Did you hear that the new CEO is officially taking over today?“ your
co-workers whispered as you all sat around, waiting for the CEO’s arrival.
tapped your foot and yawned anxiously. Today was one of those days where you
wanted to curl up in pajamas and watch sappy movies while listening to the rain
tap on your window. You could care less about the changing of CEOs because it
wasn’t going to change how you did your job.
heard he was young and attractive. Top of his class. He’s been bred to take
over the company since birth.”
that mean he’s going to be as harsh as the last CEO? Working us like
the doors opened and a rushed silence spread across the room.
stand up and welcome the new CEO!” your boss announced and everyone fumbled
to get up from their seats to pay respects and to get a first glance at the new
head of the company.
dropped your clipboard and got the wind knocked out of you as your eyes finally caught sight of the man.
widely, dressed in a fitted suit was the very person who had changed your life.
noise of your clipboard falling had attracted everyone’s attention, and his
eyes immediately fell on you. You could tell he was also a bit surprised at
your presence, but soon, a gentle smile splayed on his face.
have a seat.“ he chimed. "There’s no need to be stuffy.”
you took your seat along with everyone else. You were trembling with some sort
of mixed emotion. You were excited at your reunion but also nervous that he
turned out to be the new CEO of your company, out of all things.
“Oh I’m just travelling until I start
my new permanent job.”
groaned, putting the vagueness of his previous statement into context. Your co-workers
nudged you because everyone was glancing your way since you were contorting
your face at your realization. Hurriedly, you straightened up and apologized,
but Namjoon merely chuckled at your behavior. Still smiling as he stood
confidently in front of the podium, he began.
“Has anyone ever stopped to experience
the rain before?”
everyone looked around and mumbled in confusion, your eyes met each other’s and
you shared a coy smile from across the room.
you knew, your life was going to get a lot more exciting from now on.
hello i've seen/been told a lot of stuff about you condoning pedophilia... the term "pedophile apologist" has been used to define you... can you explain where this is coming from and why people are saying this about you? i want to hear what's going on from the source itself instead of blindly following what everyone else is saying.
i dont condone or defend pedophilia at all. like its disgusting and evil. i dislike re//imob. again, im guessing that this is because i dont get involved in ship drama and i dont usually check where i reblog stuff from? i also interact and follow people on twitter who have drawn/posted about re//imob as well but sometimes people are problematic and i choose to ignore it so i can see their other content
what also may have granted that title is my Personal Opinion: if someone likes something in fiction only, i have no reason to condemn them. is it still a red flag? yes. should you be wary of someone who posts that kinda stuff? probably. does that objectively mean theyre a bad person? not necessarily. i mean i like gore and violence in fiction but does that mean i want/im going to chop someone up? of course not! and i understand the reasonable concern that someone would have over my obsession over fictional violence; if theyre wary of me because of it then thats okay because i understand the consequences of drawing it
if someone is genuinely attempting to make a case for real life pedophilia, or incest, or anything else like that being okay then you have every right to shame and attack that person. seriously. i’m not cool with the normalization of pedophilia and thats why we all collectively agree it should be stigmatized, even in fiction. if anyone who complains about “antis” says stuff about how people should leave their ship alone, theyre the people you should worry about. the people that watch what they post and understand that people would be upset with them for liking it? im not worried about those kinda people personally but you can be if you want
okay thats my long speech lol. on a final note, if you are a minor, get xkit! block those things! block people that make you nervous! be safe! this website is technically 17 and up but if an adult is making you uncomfortable, don’t interact with them!
TL;DR i don’t like pedophilia but i can’t ass myself to get angry at people who are upsetting/deviant because i hate drama
Platane: Hey, Satoshi-kun! Having a strategy meeting? Satoshi: Professor Platane! Platane:
Eh? Manon-kun! Manon:
When did you get here? Did you come to cheer for Alan? Manon: Eh?! Y… yes… Satoshi: Alan?! Manon:
Platane: Have you met with Alan already? Manon: No. It’s fine until the end of the final. He must be focusing hard right now, I don’t want to be a bother to him. I’m thinking of meeting with him after the final!
(“disturb/bother” is [jamasuru]; same verb that Alan uses to tell off Pachira… and Manon at the Devon Corporation at the beginning of Act III. So she… possibly internalized that ;;)
Manon: I’ll be okay from here! Eureka: I’d have liked for us to stay together a bit more… I want to talk more! Manon:
But Fleurdelys-san is waiting. And running into Alan would be bad.