Do Somethin’ | Britney Spears
Artist: Billy Idol
the icons on this blog are not for free use, and i took a lot of time to make them, so please do not use.
THROW ME TO THE WOLVES
and i will return leading the pack.
The naughtier, the better. Bonus points for being off Anon!
His arms are long enough to just wrap one around her waist. He keeps his other arm free.
Several times he found himself off the seat and foot pedals, especially with the bumps they sped through. She wasn’t kidding.
His free hand was either keeping his face on right, or pulling the stray bug or two out of his teeth.
"I don’t think we’re going fast enough!
People are dodging us! Any way to speed it up?”
Trying to glance over her shoulder at the speedometer, but her hair keeps flying over his eyes.
Mystique heard what he said, her eyebrow twitching up as she refused to take her eyes off the road. Oh, yeah, she definitely hit the jackpot here by picking up some lunatic homeless man. It was her luck, after all.
❝ The target is not the people, ❞ she yelled as she swerved off the sidewalk and back onto the street. A lovely little ramp was set up, using the top of cars.
❝ What’s your name? ❞
She figured she’d get it if they were too crash and get seriously injured.
"Yeah, lots and lots of bad shit.” Shit she didn’t want to talk about and shit she needed to talk about. However, most of it was classified and Izzie couldn’t release it to the public. One of the few reasons she disliked was the secrecy and the bad shit being kept out of the pubic eye. At least she wasn’t imagining this conversation with this…blue woman? Was she blue? Mmmm, must be as she glanced up at the woman’s face.
"I like your hair, and your blue. Trying to figure out what color blue it is, but what brought you?"
❝ My ex lover is back on Earth, and he’s trying to ruin my life. ❞
It was true, Azazel was back, and she wanted to sound as crazy as possible so the woman would get the idea that maybe she was out of her mind or had too many drinks and wasn’t exactly the best person to talk to in the bar.
❝ Meanwhile, my other ex lover keeps putting his claws in my body. I can’t tell which ex lover is worse, really. ❞
Mystique glanced over at the woman, hoping she’d now entail what the bad shit in her life was. After all, people in bars usually have good stories.
"No… that… that can’t be right." He paused again, another wave of pain causing him to cringe and grab his skull. More memories rushed back to him, lasers being shot at him, movement and shaking, feeling like being torn apart and placed back together, a dark and endless void… something was wrong. Things didn’t match up, time felt off, wherever he was, this New York, this place… he wasn’t mean to be here.
"I-I was running from the Empire because I destroyed their cloning facility… I was the o-only one to Escape. I was hiding a-alone, on some jungle planet… and Imperial troops found me. I-I had to go… but they chased me off world." He opened his eyes and looked at the woman. "I must have been pulled into a void o-or a space anomaly, some sort of rip in the fabric of reality itself… I don’t remember much after that."
❝ Do you need some painkillers? ❞
Silence fell after he spoke, and her question seemed a little comedic due to the fact she had no idea what to even think about that. Honestly, Hank was the first person to come to mind, but he wasn’t here to give his expert advice. Instead, she shrugged and pursed her lips together.
❝ I would advise to take it really easy, close your eyes and let it all come back to you slowly. Other than that, all I can ask is if you have any way of getting back. I can’t leave you in New York. You’ll get thrown into an asylum before you know it. ❞
Thanks. It’s my trademark.”
❝ You might wanna hold onto it. ❞
She swerved off the rode and onto
the sidewalk, hoping she’d catch up
to those idiots who stole from her.
The pedestrians started getting the
hint to move out of the way, and
once the sidewalk was nearly cleared,
she sped through.
"… Ouch. You’ve crushed the pathetic excuse I have for a heart. I care not if I could present myself as a father. But by that aspect, you do not deserve the mother role. A mother would love their child no matter the circumstances. And you have not shown this in the least. Has it been eating you? The guilt? I can see it."
❝ I don’t regret what I did. And guilt? You think this is guilt from that —- — my child? The only thing I regret —- — the only thing I feel guilt for, was falling in love with you and making love to you. That’s it. ❞
"Don’t. I don’t want to be involved with this."
❝ Too late, Jem —- — ❞
"Well, what should I fear? Do you have some other, unforeseen ability that you plan to wield against me?" He reached into his pocket slowly, pulling out a wallet in a calm, smooth motion. Reaching in, he pulled out a pair of $10 bills and placed them on the counter, before returning his hands to his pockets. "Now, you see, I could do that, but it’d be futile. What would they arrest me on? There’s really nothing that will warrant prison time- although they’ll be confused when there’s no record of me anywhere." With that, he stood and turned to leave. "I suppose I’ve got a minute, however, so if you have any final questions, ask them now."
❝ I’d rather leave you surprised. You know what? I think I am going to walk you home. ❞
Gritting her teeth, she made her way around the bar, keeping eye contact the whole time just in case he tried anything. He was too sketchy for her liking —- — she didn’t know what to think, or where to even start thinking on him. But she assumed he was either not from this planet, or he was an experiment of some sort.
❝ Either way, I will be following you. You might not see or hear me, but I’ll be there. ❞
A sly smile stretched across her face as she looked at the ten dollars he placed on the counter.
❝ And no tip? Tsk tsk. ❞
"Pain makes me awfully chatty, it’s a suppressed reflex that comes out when I’m comfortable." The pain didn’t make her comfortable, Mystique did, but she knew those words needn’t be said, the mutant could deduce that much. Natasha gave a small chuckle when the other woman picked the left side, "Funny, that’s usually mine. I have a thing with windows." Experience gave the widow more than enough reasons to be near escapes at all times, but bedrooms had a special meaning, a very bloody painful and special meaning. The hair on her forearms felt the change in her feelings, but nothing was shown, apart from that.
"I have enough scars to prove the advantages and disadvantages of style, so I can’t really give a well rounded comment on that." Natasha threw a grey t-shirt on and a pair of black shorts, in case they needed to escape in the middle of the night. "There are two knives under the pillows, a gun attached to the mattress, easily reachable from your side." Briefing her was only fair. The redhead could still feel Mystique’s hands on her face, how cold against cold, somehow, felt warm. "Most wouldn’t even call me human, Mystique. Monster, traitor, whore, those words seems to make people so much comfortable with themselves."
With that, Natasha slid underneath the sheets, feeling the soreness of the day flow through her body like an unwanted visitor in the wrong home. Fatigue didn’t suit her, nor her lifestyle, nor her profession. Resting her head against the headboard, the spider closed her green eyes, sighing, “There’s something you should know. It’s a matter of safety and, well, so you don’t kill me.” A smile was forced onto her face, and her eyelids remained closed, “I have problems sleeping. It’s not constant, but I might wake up violently. This goes from possible screams to me grabbing a knife.” She had to admit it, but saying those words out loud made her mental self seem more real than usual.
❝ It dehumanizes you —- — they’re afraid that, deep down, you are just as human as they are. ❞ Mystique murmured, eyebrow twitching up quickly as she spoke of the weapons hidden. She really shouldn’t be surprised, given who she was with, but it still made her think how on the edge Natasha must’ve been living. To have her private bed decorated with weapons like that —- it was.. unsettling. But Mystique didn’t say anything; she just nodded.
❝ I.. ❞ She swallowed. The last woman she slept next to was Irene, and the only thing she needed to watch out for was when she got visions at night and she’d scream, but grabbing a knife? Mystique laid on her side, propped up on her elbow and peering up at Natasha. ❝ Understand. I’ll do my best to subdue you calmly and quietly. If you do hurt me, however, my healing factor will kick in, so no worries there. Have you ever considered pills? Or therapy? ❞ She knew how typical she sounded, but it could help. It has helped people before, tons of people.. but people thought those two methods were somehow shameful and embarrassing.
Laying on her back, now, she pulled the covers up to her chest and decided to tell Natasha a funny story to lighten the mood. ❝ You know, the first guy I slept with.. who didn’t know what I was, woke me up in the middle of the night. Turns out I took another persons form in my sleep. Wanna know what the best part was? I turned into his sister. I’ll never forget his face when he saw. ❞ She broke out in small giggles, remembering the memory shamelessly.