#B's Client: Beck

[office-b-help]

Hmm. Noted.

...I heard Eternatus was involved. Do you have any more details on that?

[ THIS IS A CLOSED APPOINTMENT BETWEEN B AND THE USERS. ]

[ @j0nathand0e was added. ]

[ @quagsireoutpost was added. ]

[ @cristalin-league-official was added. ]

[ @tobias-the-legend was added. ]

[ @champ-cabinet was added. ]

I don't know which one would be easier for me to reach you on, Tobias, so I added both.

Now that I have you all here, your names will all need to be recorded on my client list, as protocol.

I can see any and all of you individually at later dates for other purposes if need be.

For now, there is one primary issue to tackle, then we can go from there.

Is that clear?

[atyourmerci]

I don’t care that you’re a stoner

Ceo!abby

Dr. A.A

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, mean!abby, sub!reader, light bondage (belt), tribbing brrr, talks of strap usage, tribbing breeding kink brrr, degradation, fingering, cum play

A/N: this is technically a drabble but I gave it a title bc that’s what Chappell deserves

◊

Why Dr. Anderson decided to come to you, your pathetic excuse of an ‘office’ instead of your usual frequent visits to hers, was beyond you. Following her around like a dog to her every beck and call. Having to call her doctor since she insisted on getting her doctorate in finance…fucking prick.

Even your credentials, your place in the hierarchy of the company didn’t exclude you from being her little bitch. She seldom gave you the decency of just looking at you when you did her dirty work. Filing her papers, calling her clients, getting her coffee, black of course, like she would drink anything with an ounce of happiness.

She never thanked you. She made it clear where you stood to her, below her. A bleeding, breathing, able-minded body. It could be you, or the next, as long as it was done correctly.

So nice of her as she glares at you from the door of your office that was always open. “What are your plans for tonight?” She says driving her veiny wrists into her slack pockets, her normal intimidating eyes driving into your soul.

“I should be done that paperwork by six, is there something else I need to get to you?”

“After that,” she remarks sternly, as if you should’ve know that, as if that was something she’d ever asked before.

“Uhh go home?” You answer dumbly, utterly confused by her insistence on your personal endeavors.

“Come out with us tonight. We go to max’s down the road,” it was a question with no opportunity for refusal. You didn’t say no to Dr.Anderson.

“Oh I don’t-“ you shake your head before she cuts you off.

“I know I can smell you. Seven. Tonight.”

Sprawled out, aggressively stripped of your outing dress, on her luxurious thousand thread cotton sheets. Dr. Anderson’s Louis Vuitton belt tied around your wrist, her attempt to regain dominance.

Even as she’s panting, muffled curses coming out as pleas as she grinds her soaking cunt against your own. Her clit is so swollen now, after completely abusing your hole. Her pent up arousal seeping into the sticky mess she created with her relentless thrusts earlier.

“Couldn’t fucking stop thinking ‘bout this,” she pants out, rutting into you like a dog in heat, her sticky white cum ruining her precious expensive sheets.

You can’t seem to find words to remark her pathetic admission, so completely fucked out from your previous orgasm.

Kneading your breast in her hand she brings her teeth to your neck, biting down on the thin flesh, sure to leave marks for everyone to see. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Gonna cum in this needy pussy, let everyone know how much of a whore you are.”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, the thought of her marking you, claiming you as hers.

“Hmm the little slut likes that? Getting used as my fucking cumdump?”

The only thing you can seem to mutter out is a sad ‘mhmm’ as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

A ‘fucking slut’ is heard in the background as you feel her reposition herself, turning herself sideways inbetween your legs, throwing your leg over her shoulder. She reconnects your swollen clits, with the addition of sliding two of her thick fingers back into you. Slipping in with ease, coating her fingers with the mix of pearl slick.

“FUCK,” you come back to your senses at the new sensation, needing to hold onto anything but your hands are still bound by her belt.

“Still so fucking tight, need to stretch her out so it’ll only feel good when I do it.” Her pace beginning to quicken, her hips bucking into your thigh. Her teeth biting into the flesh of your thigh, holding back whimpers of your name.

“B-better take all my cum. Every last drop slut,” she begins losing herself, her thrusts only getting sloppier. Gripping into the flesh of your thighs to stabilize herself, trying to get you off again before herself.

“I-I promise doctor.”

Was what set her off, dropping her head back as her mouth gapes. “fuckfuckholyfuck,” her legs begin to shake, hot white cream dripping out of her pulsing hole, dripping down your clit and finding its home in your own twitching abandoned hole.

Huffing out as she regains her stability, realizing she’s losing time, her cum dripping down to her sheets and spreading. Not where she needed it.

She takes her fingers back to your cunt, scooping up what’s left, pushing it deep inside of you and keeping them as far as she can get.

“This is what you wanted huh? Nasty fucking mess stuffed with my cum,” she says with a grin of the devil herself. So pleased seeing you so dumb for her, another level of submission she could coax you into.

You give a pathetic nod, feeling her cum painting your walls as she’s deep in your cervix. She begins giving tantalizing licks to your clit as she watches your chest rise and fall.

“Abby please-“

Before you could finish you feel a rough grab on your belt adorned wrists, pulling you up to face her.

“Get the rest you missed.” She says pulling you down into the sheets, your mouth opening instinctively. Licking the cum soaked cotton sheets as she watches you from below her.

Once she’s satisfied she grips your jaw in her hand, guiding your gaze to her soaking cunt, still dripping with the mix of both of your orgasms-

“Every. Last. Drop.”

[spirallz-ocs]

ー OC MASTERBLOG ‼︎

disclaimer- most of these original stories are being reworked / revamped, &/or still in the works. expect changes, etc.

rules.

No NSFW, mod is bodily a minor. Suggestive asks & such are allowed though, just be wary. I will not answer if I'm uncomfortable.

Magic anon is limited. It's fun & all, but it sometimes gets in the way of things. Also I can't up with everything.

Do not expect me to respond right away. I run other accounts & I have a personal life. There is a person behind the screen.

for fandom ocs, see -> @spiralz-corner

key-

🍥 available for asks ! / 💥 unavailable

・Glitch! Trio

main cast

BEN / BENNY [ they / them ] 🍥

Moss [ he / him , it / its ] 🍥

Sammi Muchiro [ he / him , she / her ] 🍥

-

the elder gods, dungeons arc [part ii]

Kiko [ they / them ] 🍥

Oxx / Oxxen [ they / them , she / her ] 🍥

Nori / Nor [ they / them ] 🍥

Xero [ they / them , it / its ] 🍥

-

dungeons arc [parts i & ii]

Rye [ she / her ] 🍥

Barley / Bar [ they / them , it / its ] 🍥

Viv [ it / its , she / her ] 🍥

-

iceberg! arc [parts i & ii]

Ouister (pronounced oyster) [ he / him ] 🍥

Fange [ she / her , fae / faer ] 🍥

Captain Harbor Bisque / Bisque [ she / her , they / them ] 🍥

Scallop Mate / Scallop [ they / them , she / her ] 🍥

Captain Mantis C. / Mantis [ she / her ] 🍥

-

iceberg! arc, the deities

Vee [ she / her , he / him , they / them ] 🍥

Kyuii / Kyu [ he / him , it / its ] 🍥

・Electrik Blue !

main cast

Gabe [ she / her ] 🍥

Zii [ it / its , they / them , he / him ] 🍥

-

'clients'

Mik [ they / them , she / her , he / him ] 🍥

Florian [ he / him ] 🍥

Pop [ no pronouns! ] 🍥 technically owned by @clovergeneral, but we also share ownership. tagging them still cause they're amazing

Bee / Beehive [ it / its ] 🍥 ⚠️ this character is a did system! here are its alters-

ー wasp [ they / them , he / him ]

ー briar [ hy / hym , it / its ]

ー koii / ki [ they / them , it / its, ve / ver ]

ー cosmo / cosmos [ it / its ]

ー stagg [ she / her , he / him ]

-

etc.

Vincy De Nann [ she / her , they / them ] 🍥

Axxels [ he / him , she / her ] 🍥

Elli-Beck / Eli-B / Eli [ he / him ] 🍥

Ansleigh [ they / them , he / him ] 🍥

[becktillman]

Name: Beck Tillman Age: 30 years old Gender: Non-Binary, He/they/she Occupation: Horse Trainer at Crown B Ranch Affiliation: Hand for Cowboy Mafia Faceclaim: Julien Baker Height: 5'0 Build: Petite, lean, athletic Sexuality: Queer Smokes: Yes Drinks: Yes Tattoos: Full sleeves, hands and several more all over their body Piercings: Ears (Plugs)

BIOGRAPHY.

Born into a name that never felt like their own, expectations attached to a perceived gender that didn't fit, Beck knew from an early age that they were different, and to them, it was a blessing. Their family didn't much bat an eye, and Lucas was happy to treat Beck as a little brother. It was what he'd wanted, after all.

The Tillmans were vagabonds by heart and cowboys by trade. Where the older one went, the younger one followed. Beck idolized Lucas. They grew up wanting to be just like him. A decade older, he was larger than life to them. He was their idol. They couldn't account for just how similar the two would eventually become. Beck always walked to the beat of their own drum, or maybe they walked to the beat of Lucas' drum. Not that they'd even have known to say that at the time.

It made sense for Beck to start to work with horses. They were good at it, and it spoke to them. Slowly, they built their career. At eighteen, they left home and managed to work for one of the top cutting horse trainers in the country. They widened their skills and took jobs with reined cowhorse trainers, ropers, and so on. They learned the horse heart and soul, and became what they always wanted to be: a horseman.

It was a complete shock to their system when their older brother was arrested. A constant presence in their life was suddenly gone. While they'd heard rumors of what their older brother was up to they never really thought that was accurate. Beck should've known there was parts of his life that Lucas couldn't share with them, but still, it hurt. Seeing him behind bars broke their heart. They visited whenever they could, swearing they'd fight for his freedom.

But the fight never even got started. Lucas was killed in prison. The loss they felt when he was behind bars amplified and stirred in them like a roaring fire. They took it upon themselves to find out what happened to him. That put Beck directly into the hands of the Cowboy Mafia. They got their brand smuggling more drugs than they could've used in ten lifetimes in the trailer with the horses they were transporting. It was a perfect cover, and a task they're happy to repeat as needed.

It was a dream for Beck to get a job with Crown B and help build a horse program that they could be proud of. It took them from just another ragtag trainer fighting for a client list to steady employment with some of the best horses in the country. Small in stature, their five foot frame and slender build, the perception of their gender, all became factors that made Beck have to prove themselves even harder than most others, so having the prestige of the job, and the Cowboy Mafia at their back was something of an Ace up their sleeve. But Beck can't help but wonder if the affiliation is something of a cross to bear, too.

PLOT ARC.

In order to really understand what happened to their brother, they knew they had to sell their soul. So they did, and they got their brand. What they never bargained for how much like home this organization would feel. They definitely didn’t bargain for the fact that they liked the money and feeling of power they were finding in the organization. The Rambler is now at the foot of the realization that they might end up down the same path as their brother, and maybe that’s just the destination for their bloodline — a truth they were unwilling to accept before the brand now seems like the only truth.

[lesterplatt]

Gil's Grills | Brooklyn Film Festival from Nicolas Gordon on Vimeo.

Director: Nicolas Gordon Agency: HAVAS Client: Brooklyn Film Festival Line Producer: Dustin Highbridge 1st AD: Lazzy Bear Walker

Voiceover: Thomas Lennon

Production Manager: Ben Thorn Production Coordinator: Lama Mouawad

DP: J. D. Butler 1st AC: Sai Aung Tun 2nd AC: Austin Page

Gaffer: Tristan Moffatt BBE: Travis Moffatt KG: Leo Sanchez BBG: Logan Alesso

DIT: Brian Bigler VTR: Sam Baek Sound Mixer: Alex Dawson

Production Designer: Lisa Garcia Art Director: Brian Marquez Prop Master: Natasha Romano Set Decorator: Annie Grafe Set Dresser: Antaeus Littlejohn

Gill: Ellie Suh Interviewer: David Eli Woman: Danie Marie

Stylist: Krisse Torgesson Make-Up Artist: Lisa Campos

Location Manager: Travis Beck Location Scout: Suzanne LaChasse Site Rep: Franklyn James CCO: Melissa Goncalves Truck PA: Mitchell Nguyen Key PA: Amy Seach PA: Adam Rozenberg PA: Skye Grissom Pass Van PA: Martin Nazario Pass Van PA: Edgar Cortes

Storyboard Artist: Vince Wei

Production Company: Kin Films LLC President: Dustin Highbridge

Editorial: Final Cut Editor: Antonio Gómez-Pan Assistant Editor: Julio Samaniego Head of Production: Rebecca Mitchell Executive Producer: Sarah Roebuck Producer: Kelly Budish

Color: The Mill Colorist: Logan Highlen Color Assistant: Bap Man Color Assistant: Erwin Pasia Head of Production: Brandee Probasco Executive Producer: Krista Staudt Producer: Jackson Winkler

Sound Design/Mix: Machine Sound Sound Design and Mix: Alex Bingham Sound Design and Mix: James Cobbold Assistant Engineer: Chas Langston Assistant Engineer: Michele Covio Executive Producer: Matej Oreskovic Senior Producer: Andi Lewis

Conform: Significant Others Managing Director: Justin Brukman Executive Producer: Alyssa St. Vincent Head of Production: Gwynne Evans Reid ECD: Dirk Greene Lead Flame Artist: Phil Apostol GFX Artist: Phil B VFX Assistant: Kogan Li Producer: Kyla Amols Production Coordinator: Hoa Vu

Music: Duotone Composer: Jordan Lieb Composer: Brad Fischer Executive Producer: Ross Hopman Senior Producer: Gio Lobato Creative Director: Peter Nashel

Casting: AHC Casting

[exuberantlycrazy]

- Olá, Nate! Muito prazer em te conhecer... E pode me chamar de Becky! Esse é o meu amigo, Harry! -Olá, Harry! - E aí, cara! Muito prazer! - Muito prazer recebe-los em minha cozinha - Cerrei os olhos quando ouvi a palavra "Minha" sair da boca desse boçal. - Steve, um cliente solicitou a sua presença! - Ok, com licença senhores. Harry quer conhecer o resto do restaurante ? - Claro, se tiver tudo bem por você, Becks! - Sim, se divirta... Só não muito! - Steve e Harry entraram no corredor e assim que saiu fora da visão de Nate começaram a gargalhar. - Nate, me perdoe! Eu não quis dizer... - Está tudo bem! - Ufa - Eu entendo - Ele deu o sinal pra eu entrar na cozinha - Você é a filha do dono, logo isso te da uma falsa ilusão de autoridade. - Ham... Como ? - Ele riu sarcasticamente quando passou por mim. - Como estamos com as lagostas ? - Ele perguntou para a equipe de 5 cozinheiros - Respirei fundo. - Boa noite, pessoal! - Boa noite, Becky! - Isso foi coletivo. - Estamos pegando fogo - Lina diz isso quando o serviço está indo muito bem, ela aprendeu com meu avô. - Como está seu pai, B ? - Ele vai passar a noite no hospital, fazer alguns exames... mas ainda está estressando minha mãe, o que deve ser uma coisa boa! - Com toda certeza! E aí - Ela apontou pra Harry - Tá rolando ? - Bem... - Lina - Nate interrompeu - o preparo desses cogumelos é bem delicado, por favor não queime eles ok ? - Revirei os olhos enquanto o tal do boçal falava. - Oui, chef! - Eu volto aqui mais tarde, Lina! - Oui, chef! - Ela brincou e revirou os olhos também. - Tem algo que em que posso te ajudar, Sra. Becca ? - Eu estou bem, obrigada! - Estampei o sorriso mais falso que pude. - O quantitativo de pratos até o momento, onde posso encontrar ? - Então, tem algo que eu posso te ajudar! - Ele levantou uma sobrancelha e meu estomago revirou de raiva - Ele está no caixa. - Oh! ele ficava aqui na cozinha... - Sim, mas implantamos no sistema, assim temos um trabalho a menos. - Ah, bom trabalho! - Eu sei, querida! - Eu o encarei - Desculpe, Becca! - É Becky e eu já volto! - Por favor, não! - Ele disse rindo - Ah, qual é! É uma piada. - Péssima! Quem está fechando o caixa ? Sei que o Steve tem que sair mais cedo essa semana. - Eu mesmo, Sra! - Ok, eu posso checar mais tarde ? - O que isso quer dizer ? - Quer dizer que eu fico com você pra fechar o caixa. - Você não tem outros planos ? - Hoje meus planos é infernizar a vida de um boçal presunçoso que acha que vai mandar no restaurante que pertence a minha mãe.

[funtasticworld]

Full text of the article

EDITOR’S NOTE: In 1994 I was working full time for Harvey Entertainment, putting finishing touches on my 50 Greatest Cartoons book and freelance writing for various clients. I was asked by my old friends at Animation Magazine if I would do a brief chat with Bill Hanna and Joe Barbera. I’ve honestly forgotten what was the reason was behind this assignment – but a chance to meet Bill and Joe was too good to turn down. I hadn’t had the pleasure before – and in subsequent years I’d occasionally be in the room with one of them, but never really got to meet them or know them. Our meeting was brief – I think I had like all of 20 minutes with them. It was a real honor and a pleasure. This brief interview was published in the July/August 1994 issue of Animation Magazine. My friend Kevin Sandler is co-editing (with Tyler Solon Williams) a book collecting various interviews with Hanna Barbera (Hanna and Barbera: Conversations, to be published in April 2024 by University Press of Mississippi), unfortunately this interview came to light only after the book went to press. Kevin sent me a copy of it, I then got permission from current editor (and friend) Ramin Zahed to repost it here. I believe this is its first appearance on the internet. It’s short, but sweet… I hope you enjoy. – Jerry Beck

Q & A With H & B

Bill Hanna and Joseph Barbera have not only made animation history, they are animation history.  Having won seven Oscars for their classic Tom & Jerry cartoons of the forties and fifties, they pioneered television animation with their own studio and created dozens of popular characters. This duo has built a lifetime of memorable achievements.  Jerry Beck, Animation’s consulting editor, met recently with Hanna and Barbera in Joe Barbera’s office in Hollywood.

Jerry Beck: Bill, you were working at the MGM cartoon department from about the beginning of it.

Bill Hanna:  I started there the same day Joe did.

Beck:  Who put you two together?

Hanna:  I think we gravitated together.

Joe Barbera:  But it was different units.  I bounced between Friz [Freleng] and Bob Allen’s units.  Finally we ended up in the same department working for Rudy Ising.

Beck:  Why didn’t Friz work out at MGM?

Hanna:  Oh, I wouldn’t say he didn’t work out there.  I thought what he did was okay.

Beck:  But why did he leave?

Barbera:  He couldn’t stand working on the Katzenjammer Kids (The Captain and the Kids).  He thought that it was all wrong and he couldn’t do what he wanted to do…and he told Fred Quimby that.  He was just about to quit, by the way, when the phone rang at his house one night and it was [Leon] Schlesinger asking him to come back. So that’s how that worked out.

Beck:  Did you guys work on the Milt Gross cartoons?

Barbera:  Oh, what a nightmare!

Hanna:  Those were bad… [To Joe] I have forgotten how long we were there before you and I went together, but it was a question of months.

Barbera:  Yeah, it was within the first two years.  We finally ended up in the same room, and I could see the boat slowly sinking. I suggested, ‘Why don’t we a picture on our own?’ Quimby was so desperate he didn’t stop us.

Beck:  After the first short (Puss Gets the Boot, 1940), you made a few interesting miscellaneous cartoons…

Barbera:  Yeah, because the guy that stopped us from making more cat and mouse cartoons was Quimby.  He said, ‘I don’t wanna put all our eggs in one basket.’ So we stopped it.  Then a letter came from a very important exhibitor named Bessa Short. And she asked ‘When are we gonna see another one of those delightful cat and mouse cartoons?’

Hanna:  Then Quimby couldn’t do anything else.

Barbera:  That’s when we called them Tom & Jerry.  We had a whole bunch of contests to get the title for the series.  Very unoriginal title.

Beck:  During your Tom & Jerry MGM years, did you have any kind of relationship with Walt Disney?

Hanna:  The only relationship that I remember is, I think, that we won seven Oscars.  During that period, I don’t think he won that many.  And he wondered who the hell those smart-asses were that were winning these Oscars.

Barbera:  We went directly against him each time we won.

Beck:  How unexpected was it when MGM shut down in 1957?

Barbera:  How unexpected?  A thunderbolt!

Hanna:  Yeah, that’s right. We were shocked.  I think the both us felt that this was where we were set up for the rest of our lives.  Everything was going great. And all of a sudden, wham – it closed.

Barbera: Unbelievable.  It’s like just winning the Olympics – then getting canned.

Beck:  There was no notice?

Hanna:  No. No notice at all.  They just said they were discontinuing production.  Fortunately, we had started enough cartoons that it was going to take us at least six months to finish those.  We had six months to decide what we wanted to do, which was a real blessing.

Beck:  What happened next?

Hanna:  We immediately began to plan: What could we do? What kind of characters? How were we going to do it?  We both knew that it was a pretty bad scene for animators out there, and we’d been successful doing Tom & Jerry.  We felt we should do our own thing, start our own company, from the day they said ‘Closed.’  We had a plan in place by the time we got our last MGM paycheck.

Barbera: (sarcastically) It was a great deal…ooh, what a turkey. But there was nothing out there.

Hanna:  We financed ourselves with the pension money that we had accumulated at MGM. And we never did have to go in debt or borrow to make Hanna-Barbera work. We were able to use the money that we had, make the first cartoon and get compensated for it in a very short time.

Beck:  Where do George Sidney and Screen Gems fit in?

Hanna:  Sidney was a friend of ours, we worked with him on Anchors Aweigh and Invitation to the Dance.  George and his father, L.K. Sidney, had connections at Screen Gems (Columbia Pictures TV department) and, through them, we had a meeting there.

Barbera:  They came back to us with a deal, a terrible deal. There was no money in it. They didn’t have any money. It was like 3,000 bucks for five minutes of a cartoon. We were getting 45,000 to 65,000 thousand for a five-minute Tom & Jerry! We had to use every trick in the book to make it move without spending a lot of money.

Hanna:  For peanuts…

Barbera:  Shortly after we began production, we got a call from John Mitchell, head of sales for Screen Gems, and he was promoting all this stuff. He said, ‘Bring over whatcha got. Harry Cohn wants to look at it.’  So we go over to this crummy little projection room, as big as this office…I mean, it was the bottom of the barrel, I’ll tell ya. Television was pushed off into the old part of the building. We sat down with the first pencil test of Ruff n’ Ready and in come Harry Cohn and John Mitchell. The lights go out and you know, if you don’t know what a pencil test is and you’re looking at these pencil lines squiggling around – you really have to be a professional to be able to read it – and they ran it.

Hanna:  It didn’t look bad.

Barbera:  The point is that it was a pencil test. And Harry Cohn doesn’t look at pencil tests. And it finished, and they got up and walked out. Didn’t say a word. So later I called John Mitchell and asked, ‘What did he say?’ He says, ‘Get rid of them.’  Now…again fate steps in. In New York, a guy named Roger Muir had a children’s show on NBC. And he wanted to use these five-minute cartoons in his show. If it wasn’t for that, we’d be out of business.

Beck: What was it like going from fully-animated pantomime cartoons to limited-animation, dialogue-heavy pictures?

Barbera:  Another world.

Hanna:  Luckily he liked them.

Beck:  How did you hook up Huckleberry Hound and Kelloggs?

Barbera:  John Mitchell set up a meeting with Kellogg’s ad agency, the Leo Burnett people. I went to Chicago with nothing to show them, but we agreed to develop Huck, Pixie & Dixie, and two itinerant bears who later became Yogi and Boo-Boo.

Beck:  What was it like going from full-animated pantomime cartoons to limited-animation, dialogue-heavy pictures?

Barbera:  Another world.

Hanna:  It was another world, but also it was the only way that we could meet the economies of making pictures for television.

Beck:  Did your roles as directors change after MGM?

Hanna:  No, I think that we went on, each of us doing what we did best – working together on material, I was working on timing and with the animators, Joe working with story people and doing the big selling job.

Babera:  We didn’t have time to breathe. It was 17 hours a day. We would be working on stories and timing all day long, then at night time we would go over to a soundstage on Sunset Blvd. and record a picture. This was five nights a week. We did a different cartoon, a Jetsons one night, we’d do a Top Cat another time, a Huckleberry Hound another night. Then we’d go across the street to the Naples restaurant and eat, at about eleven o’clock at night, with all these guys.

Hanna:  We worked very hard.

Beck:  Where did the idea to do a prime-time series come from?

Hanna:  I think we were asked to do that.

Barbera:  John Mitchell. He was relentless about doing it and you know, personally, I felt to myself, he’ll never get this off the ground. I night-time animated show, are they kidding? But he wouldn’t let up.

Beck:  As cartoons became big business for TV in the late ‘60s, the traditional approaches to production were changed. For example, television writers replacing cartoonists, scripts replacing storyboards, and so forth.

Hanna:  We have, all of our lives, worked with storyboards. So if a script is written, a storyboard is created. There are a lot of writers that are qualified and can write some darn good material, but they can’t draw.

Beck:  Aren’t cartoon artists more creative in designing and writing cartoons?

Barbera:  Oh yeah. No question.

Hanna:  Yeah, that’s right.

Barbera:  We did a whole series, Top Cat, we had some of the best writers in the business and the best scripts until I realized to my horror, that it was all terrific dialogue. Where were the cartoon gags? None. Earlier on The Flintstones, we had hired one of the best writers that the Honeymooners had. We had a three episode deal with him. It was a disaster. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to write for animation.

Beck:  Was that the beginning of The Flintstones?

Barbera: Yeah, the very beginning.

Beck:  So you weren’t hiding the connection between The Flintstones and The Honeymooners?

Barbera:  Anytime anybody says to me ‘Hey, isn’t a lot of The Flintstones like The Honeymooners and didn’t you rip it off?’ I say, ‘Hey, look…you wanna compare us to The Honeymooners? That’s the best compliment you could ever give it.’

Beck:  Do you guys ever keep in touch with Jack Nicholson?

Barbera:  He was the office boy at MGM.

Hanna:  He has often talked about us. As a matter of fact he recently quoted me telling him not to quit MGM.  He said I told him, ‘Don’t be a fool. You have your chance here to become something. Stay with it.’

Barbera:  He used to bring us Cokes, he’d wheel in the cart, go in the offices and ask, ‘What do you want today?’  So years later I’m standing in the Polo Lounge, and I hear this voice in my ear say (Joe doing a wicked Jack Nicholson imitation), ‘Mr. Bar-ber-a?’ – I respond, “I’ll have a coke with two milks!’  (Laughs.)  We’ve kept in touch. He’s just a real terrific guy.  If he needs a job, he oughtta call us, y’know?

Jerry Beck, the eminent animation historian, may have had but 20 minutes or so to pull off the interview thus transcribed ... but it's well worth taking stock of.

And it might be worth knowing that I've actually talked telephonically with Messrs. Hanna and Barbera on separate occasions, howbeit as I was starting to develop the acquaintenance (around 1982, to be specific).

[fuck-customers]

Just in case anyone had any faith left in humanity, just know that anti-vaxxers exist for pets, too. I work at a veterinary medic center as a receptionist & currently we're having clients stay in their cars while we bring the pet inside & they talk with the techs & the doctors on their phones during the appointment for COVID safety. We ring them up over the phone & then the tech brings the pet back out to them along with their receipt & any meds/food/etc. they purchased, too. We make an exception for euthenasias of course, but all other appointments are contact-free. We have one client who is a notorious asshole & a total COVID-denier & rants to anyone unlucky enough to get on the phone with him about what a "hoax" he thinks it is. He also expects his preferred doctor to be at his beck & call 24/7 & will yell at her & her techs if she's too busy for him, (like when she's, oh I don't know, IN FUCKING SURGERY when he calls to talk to her!!! For the 3rd time THIS WEEK!!!!) He also refuses to vaccinate his poor cat b/c he thinks it'll give her cat-autism or something. I'm just glad the poor thing is an indoor cat, but STILL. He's more afraid of non-existent side-effects to vaccines than he is about fucking RABIES. That cat is probably the only creature on earth that might have any amount of affection for this asshat & he won't even care for her properly. Unbelievable.

[juminly]

First Sight (Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader)

Summary: Going through a rough patch in your life, your friend thought of the perfect solution to help you through it. And that's how you found yourself spending a night with one of the most reputable men of Yoshiwara.

Tags: Yoshiwara/Courtesan AU, Fluff, Bittersweet Fluff, Some Mutual Pining, Obvious Canon Divergence, Some Historical Inaccuracy.  –♥–  Had she not convinced you to come with her to take a look around the infamous red-light district of Yoshiwara, you would have never witnessed something as mesmerizing as you had on that evening. It was the walk of the Yoshiwara courtesans, where the different courtesan establishments would flaunt the highly demanded and regarded men and women of the district, both genders falling in awe and captivated by their beauty as they walked the streets around Sunset, before the nights of unholy pleasure began. Looking at your friend, her eyes practically bulging out of their sockets as she waited to see the courtesan that she had been frequenting for a while, Dazai. Spending heaps of money on the dark haired fellow with golden eyes, you could definitely see why she had become too obsessed with spending countless nights with him, even as it dried her pockets. Shaking your head, you sighed and rubbed your temples, still wondering why you were even there and why she brought you with her. Yes, you were going through a major slump in your life but the trust that you had in her methods to cheer you up was not at its highest point then. You watched a silver-haired man followed next, kind crimson eyes looking at everyone that watched the parade but at no one in particular, an obscure sense of poise surrounding him as the softest of smiles painted his lips. He was certainly beautiful but... you had yet to see and witness more. Feeling the air seeping from your lungs, your eyes were met with the most mesmerizing jewels you've ever seen, gleaming sapphires outlined by long dark lashes, strands of wavy midnight blue hair boldly acting as unruly curtains that swiped over them with each strut of the man's body. Pale skin brightened under the blush light of the sunset, pink lips stretched into a sure smile, a smile that did not reflect in his eyes. His collar attracting your eyes to the long slit created by his kimono, loosely hanging over his broad shoulders, the belt pulling the fabric together only accentuating the musculature of his lean physique. A loud scream startled you, one of the girls standing next to you practically hyperventilating as he had winked at her, all the while, he kept his head high and turning to keep his gaze forward, his posture picture perfect as he slowly faded away in the distance, yet his presence still remained.

As your friend bumbled on about how she didn't want to spend the night alone in the courtesan house, forcibly strung along in her whims, you found yourself standing before a counter where bills of cash were laid flat on the wooden surface, your eyes widening as you realized that she had booked you a room with one of the courtesans. "I-... I didn't ask for this! I could've just waited for you in the lobby! You b-" Pressing an index against your lips, she grinned widely. "My treat. Believe me, with this one, you'll definitely thank me later. I have a good feeling you will."

Clicking your tongue and practically fuming at her insolence, you felt your blood boil but what was the point? You weren't sure who you were going to meet, unfamiliar with their names, having only your eyes laid on them as they gracefully walked before you. You didn't have anything to lose... So you'd just go wherever the wind took you. It wasn't like you had anything better to do for the rest of the evening anyways. Making your way to your appointed room, the loud thumping of your heart grew louder in your ear. This was not something you have done before nor were you familiar with, but sliding the door open, you were meet with the bare back of a man who had been in the middle of dressing himself back in his kimono. You stuttered a low 'sorry', still hesitantly standing by the door when you heard a tuneful chuckle. "Don't worry about it, love. I am not a shy one." Turning his head around, the flickering light of the candles surrounding the room illuminating his striking features, a surprised gasp escaping you when you realized who it was. The blue-eyed courtesan with the beauty mark right by his playfully quirked lips."You are more than welcome to come in. After all, I am at your beck and call tonight." Swiftly standing up, inching closer to you, he reached over you, shutting the sliding door, the colourful smell of wood and spices filling your senses in the most intoxicating of ways. Smiling down at you, the confidence in him was not arrogant, yet playful and teasing, the trepidation in you decreasing as you realized, this is no different than meeting a man you’re interested in for the very first time. Other than the fact that you were meeting in a bedroom and just... Shaking your head, you tried not to dwell too much on your thoughts, focusing on the beauty that was towering over you. “What a lovely dove you are...” You felt the top of your cheeks heat up, with every word that he left his lips. It was his job to flatter his clients, of that you were already sure, but that did nothing to deter your weak heart from being struck by his sweet nothings. “Hello there, first timer. It will be my utmost pleasure to serve you on this beautiful evening, love. Make yourself comfortable, dearie.” With a shaky smile, you stepped further inside, noticing that there was no other place for you to sit but on the bed, not even a chair, nothing. You didn’t have many expectations yet considering how favorable he seemed to the public, it would be only natural to witness more extravagance than there already was. Finding a spot on the edge of the bed, you sat and looked up at the courtesan, a nervous giggle escaping you. “This is my first time and I wasn’t planning on even coming here. My friend booked this room for me and I’m just... here now.” Walking across the room with barely audible footsteps, he glided to your side, light a feather, bearing a small cup in one hand with another intricately ornate bottle. “It is kind of you to say that you had a 'room' booked for you and not a 'courtesan'... 'myself' booked for you.” He teased, pouring a clear magenta liquid into the cup, filling it close to the brim and offering it to you. “Raspberry sake for your nerves, dear.” Whipping your head to the side, the corner of his eyes crinkled lightly as he grinned at you, your heart completely melting as he flashed his pearly smile at you. How was he even doing this to you? Just by the sound of his voice, he had you feeling like your entire body melted. Still keeping your fingers linked together, as if they were still stuck in each other's hold, the blue eyed courtesan placed the bottle on the nearby nightstand, still keeping the hand offering you the liquid filled cup to you. "I promise on whatever ounce of dignity that I may possess, the sake is for your own comfort. It is my rule within my profession not to force advances upon clients. Fear not, pretty dove. For tonight, I am yours, as no one could ever be mine." Finally taking the cup from him, your fingers brushing against his long slim digits, a faint shiver coursing through, your heart crumbling at the seams at the dauntingly sinister words of the courtesan, masked by his cheerful tone Taking a long sip, throwing your head back lightly as you emptied the liquid, a light scorching trail paving it's way down your throat before you finally found a bit of courage, hoping the pink sake had given you some. You were usually much more confident that this. What was happening to you? "Would it be okay if you told me your name? Since we are spending the night together, I think I should at least know what to call you." You inquired, an attempt to make the best out of your night somehow. His name was probably a good way to start. For a split-second, the courtesan was completely caught off guard, not only were you a first-timer, you didn't even know his name and by the looks of it, you had absolutely no plans in taking advantage of the money that your friend had spent on 'him' keeping you company through the late hours of the night. Crossing his legs, he chuckled at the way your eyes took in the sight of his exposed legs, the length of his pale and soft skin on display for you, the slit of his kimono heeding any client's quest to assess the goods they were paying for. As your eyes skirted away, locking with his mesmerizing sapphires, Arthur took the liberty to lay back on the bed, angling his body to the side towards you, hoping that with time, you would also do the same. "There is no need for formalities with me, dearie. Call me Arthur. That is my name. Yet, all my clients are also free to call me whatever they wish, as well." In that moment, you were certain that Arthur couldn't hear how wistful his words rang, how every time he spoke, his voice was laced with a palpable sadness, your very being feeling an inexorable need to reach deep inside him and fill it with... You were not even sure. You didn't know him, so why would you assume all these things about him? After going through your small round of introduction, it only took a few minutes to find yourself laying on the opposite side of him, mere inches separating your bodies, the close distance oddly intimate yet comforting while you quietly filled the room with the sound of your voices and light laughter, drowning out the distant thumping and the unmistakable din of pleasure that erupted within the establishment. Strange emotions rose within him, sensations that he had never sought or found with other clients before yet had coincidentally stumbled upon as you recounted the current events in your life that were plaguing your mind and eroding the happiness in your heart. The malaise ringing in your voice mirrored his own, which he had buried in the depth of his heart. Asking you questions, stirring you away from the darkness that shrouded you, Arthur lead you away from what encumbered your soul, the light in your eyes almost brightening in the course of your exchange, implicitly guiding you through your qualms, coming to your own realizations about where you were headed, where you wanted to be in your life. He aided in tending to matters of the heart... and not of the flesh. Neither of you could have anticipated to undergo such an enlightening experience, by simply opening your heart to a stranger. A beautiful stranger who teased you with his words, refraining from giving you even the lightest of touches, yet still playfully able to make you squirm, blush and laugh as the night went on. It seemed like you were both taking turns, unveiling the secrets hidden behind your smile, the seemingly iridescent aura surrounding Arthur still present yet changing in colour, in texture... almost sensing the presence of someone other than the courtesan that you had seen being ceremoniously paraded before the eyes of the willing, the impassioned and the greedy. "I can spend an entire lifetime recounting my simple aspirations in life, love. Yet, for a man such as myself, the price is much too steep, proving to be..." He paused for a moment, looking at both your hands that were placed between your bodies, a tingling rising on the tip of his fingers. Could he just brush them against your hand softly, just to feel the kindness through your warmth... help him through his words? Was it too much to ask, to find an intimacy that did not involve being used? You didn't urge him to reveal more, already sensing the way he bared himself to you in the same manner you did with him, yet still... the both of you remained in the same position you had been from the moment you entered the room. While everything surrounding you emanated of sensuality and unadulterated passion, here you were... hearts connecting in the most unexpected of places. "May I touch your hand?" He murmured softly, his voice cracking lightly at the last word, the corner of his lips turning up in a sheepishly gentle manner. Now it was your turn to giggle, your hand finding purchase in his large one, linking your fingers with his as you brushed the tips lightly on his palm. Silly man... after everything that you shared, he still thought that holding your hand would be asking for too much. In your case, it absolutely wasn't... especially when it gifted you with the sweet sight of pink tinting the top of Arthur's cheeks. “I think I’d like us to stay like this for the rest of the night, Arthur.” You reassured him, lifting your hands to rest between your hearts, neither of you realizing how they beat in time. Together. “That would certainly make me happy, darling.” His melodic voice rang soft and low, as if throwing a blanket that warmed your body, heart and soul. For the first time in forever, Arthur had found a grain of happiness, with you... seeding an innocent and fervent hope that it would blossom into something... into much more. –♥–  A/N: this is legit so all over the place but I couldn’t resist writing a little courtesan AU with Arthur. Also, this one is for you, waifu @theweebrises​ 💜  Tagging: @nafeary @kisara-16 @delicateikemenmemes  if anyone wants to be tagged or untagged, let me know <3 Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

[spectacularsanah]

Standing on the edge of becoming an OT – reflections my your journey thus far

“Occupational therapy is more than a job. For many it is a calling. We felt drawn to it.” 

My journey through OT has been tumulus and wonderful so far. It started with the culmination of theory learning put into practice, that at the onset can be identified as a journey that will never end.

My progress can be encapsulated in the experiences I’ve had in the transition from online learning into application on the practical's. This transition was a challenging one, as it required my perseverance and constant hard work to conquer the beginning of first year. This was the year where work was done in quantity, but not quality. As an understanding of what was done had not been garnered yet.  

My inexperience was a downfall as I knew the work I needed to do, but I was hesitant about the therapeutic process.

In second year, we started assessing clients and this fostered the image of exactly what it means to help people in this spectacular profession. Interacting with clients in the psychology block, as well as the physical, brought into perspective how real these interactions are and that we all leave a mark on each other through each dialog. And that my days are but the kiss of the ocean on the sand, taking sand back into the ocean with each wave. Such is the mark of each client on me as a student therapist, leaving pieces of themselves with me from each meeting. These interactions enabled my transition into the beginning of third year.

Evaluation of intervention exposed the emotional skills and personality traits on practice performance. Professionalism, empathy, and understanding were features that I needed to embody, as well as the theoretical knowledge, to cope and treat effectively. (Brown et al., 2016)

The knowledge that these were the traits I needed to embody, made fieldwork easier than without and made each interaction fulfilling whether they were theoretically productive or not. And from just a seemingly simple conversation, I could pick up a lot more from an individual.

In conclusion, Standing on the edge of becoming an OT, I’ve come to realize thus far that experience makes a better student and therapist, and emotional intelligence creates a more insightful one.

REFERENCES

AOTA. (n.d.). Intervention. Retrieved August 21, 2022, from https://www.aota.org/practice/domain-and-process/intervention-new#:~:text=Occupational%20therapy%20intervention%20takes%20place,and%20improve%20health%20and%20wellbeing.

Beck, C. (2022, April 8). Occupational therapy quotes. The OT Toolbox. https://www.theottoolbox.com/occupational-therapy-quotes/

Brown, T., Williams, B., & Etherington, J. (2016). Emotional intelligence and personality traits as predictors of occupational therapy students’ practice education performance: A Cross-Sectional study. Occupational Therapy International, 23(4), 412–424. https://doi.org/10.1002/oti.1443

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 2: Fate / Betrayal

“It was always meant to end like this. I should have known better.”

Day 2 of JustJadelentines2021!

[Day 1] / [You’re at Day 2!] / [Day 3] / [Day 4] / [Day 5] / [Day 6] / [Day 7]

Ah, yes... Traumatizing NRC’s students yet again Just another normal day of business dealings for the Tweels.

***Warning: Mentions of excessive violence and some blood!***

Imagine this...

CRASH!

Octa A took a staggering step back, hands clutched over his mouth, as though to push back his terrified scream. What came out instead was a pathetic whimper. Like that of a defeated puppy.

A broken plate laid at his feet--the least of his concerns at the moment. His faith, too, had splintered and shattered. Its ugly remains were scattered on the cold floor.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the disturbing sight unfolding before him.

A talk, Jade had called it. Yes, he and Floyd would just be taking an ill-mannered client of Azul’s outside to have a talk. That was how he had explained it.

And now that same ill-mannered client was sprawled out on his back. An arm bent at an unnatural angle--bones broken. A trickle of blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. He cried out in pain as Jade--polite, kind Jade--put a foot square in the center of his chest and dug his heel in. Hard.

Floyd lazed about nearby, arms behind his head. He yawned, seemingly bored with the violent interaction.

“Oya. Are you still conscious?” Jade asked of the fallen client, smiling down at them. Then, addressing his brother, “You’ve been getting sloppy with your squeezing as of late, Floyd.”

“Not in the mood,” his twin groaned back.

“Fufufu. It appears that it now falls upon myself to discipline you,” Jade chuckled, turning back to the client. “Aren’t you lucky? You will find that I am much more gentle than my brother.”

To emphasize his point, he dug his heel in again, eliciting another sob.

“P-Please, let me go...!! I’ll... I’ll give Azul what I owe! A few more days--J-Just give me a few mo--”

“I am afraid that your time is up,” Jade sighed. He bent down, showcasing two rows of razor-sharp teeth to the terrified client. “Your fate now lies in our hands. I do hope you are prepared to be at our beck and call until further notice.”

A strangled noise crept out of Octa A’s mouth--and, to his horror, the twins’ eyes both lifted to meet his. Jade’s smile was the same as ever, but eerily mismatched with the situation at hand. Floyd’s bored expression morphed into one of excitement upon spotting Octa A, and he raced over to the mob student.

“Konbu-chan! You’ve come to play with us?”

“I-I... Th-That’s not what--”

“Kon-san. Eavesdropping is not very considerate of you,” Jade said, his voice with a slight edge to it. “Whatever are you doing, disrupting a talk such as this? And in the middle of the work day, no less. Get back to your station at once.”

I wanted to ask where you put the tartar sauce refills...

“S-Senpai, please remove your foot from him...!! He’s hurt!” Octa A begged. “H-He needs emergency medical care for his arm--”

“You are correct,” Jade cut the mob student off, “he needs to be treated if he is to be of any use to us. Floyd--take him to get patched up. You can do this much on your bad mood, yes?”

“Fiiiine.”

Floyd grabbed the client and roughly tossed him over his shoulder without any regard for comfort. With a haphazard wave to his brother and to Octa A, Floyd vanished into one of the Mostro Lounge’s consultation rooms. Leaving Jade alone with the mob student.

“S-Senpai... That wasn’t real, right?” Octa A asked shakily. “You... Y-You wouldn’t put your hands on another student, right? You wouldn’t extort anyone... r-right?”

His stomach churned wildly, fraught with concern.

“Kon-san.” Jade beamed. “Just how exactly do you believe we maintain order at Octavinelle? Certainly not by holding hands and singing kumbaya. You would be delusional to think that life at Night Raven College is all sunshine and rainbows.”

“E-Eeeeh?! B-But you once told me--”

“If you ever need any assistance, please do not hesitate to call for me. I promise that I will do my utmost to alleviate your worries.”

“If I may say,” Jade interrupted, still as pleasant as ever, “your blind optimism and faith... The way you desperately cling to every word that I speak... It is rather disgusting.”

“Disgusting?!” Octa A’s jaw dropped, shrinking away from his vice-dorm leader. Disgusting, disgusting... like an insignificant piece of kelp floating amongst the waves.

“Fufufu. I suppose you were destined to make this discovery sooner or later, what with how nosy you are,” Jade laughed cruelly, patting the mob student on the shoulder. “... It was fun while it lasted, Kon-san.”

He squeezed, and Octa A could swear that he felt his bones crunch. The mob student yelped, jolting back from his touch.

The illusion, shattered.

“You’d best get back to your shift,” the eel advised, a finger to his lips. “Ah--and let’s keep this between us, hmm? We can’t have all of our secrets out in the open, now can we?”

The mob student winced, staring up with newfound, petrifying fear. Jade smiled, gesturing to the broken platter at Octa A’s feet.

“This, by the way, will be coming out of your paycheck.”

[office-b-help]

Client List

[ This is a list of B's clients to use as a reference. Your user tag will be added but not @'d. ]

@【FILLER EXAMPLE】 - 【# B's Client: NAME】

————————————————————

@【literal-trubbish】 - 【# B's Client: Alex Allison】

@【probablenotabsolute】 - 【# B's Client: Bryony】

@【hisuianrecluse】 - 【# B's Client: Asrani】

@【tobias-the-legend/champ-cabinet】 - 【# B's Client: Tobias】

@【cristalin-league-official】 - 【# B's Client: Beck】

@【cristalin-league-official】 - 【# B's Client: Wyatt】

@【j0nathand0e】 - 【# B's Client: Doe】

@【j0nathand0e】 - 【# B's Client: Lano】

@【quagsireoutpost】 - 【# B's Client: Outpost】

@【archaeo-ace】 - 【# B's Client: Hydrangeas】

@【cryogonalsmelody】 - 【# B's Client: Axel】

@【poketherapist-in-training】 - 【# B's Client: Chief】

@【harlequin-the-mr-mime】 - 【# B's Client: Harlequin】

[waejinyoung]

Can’t Swim - EP . 6

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: dont hate me pls, i swear Jinyoung is okay... kinda. yall gonna hate me for this ending too

warning: swearing, hospital setting, mentioning of injuries

EP . 1 , EP . 2 , EP . 3 , EP . 4 , EP . 5 , EP . 6 , EP .7 , EP . 8 , EP . 9

The day started well but it didn’t last long. The call from Jooheon led the day to plummet into a shit hole. The eco hotel was now under your guys’ belt but Jinyoung was now a patient in the local hospital. Shit really hit the fan.

Monday Afternoon

You had rushed back into the meeting room and said your apologies to both Beck and Mr Chan. You were sure this was a good enough reason to rush out of an important meeting like this one. You took note to let them both know the reason why you had to leave once things had died down.

Now you were at the hospital outside of Jinyoung’s room waiting for the doctor to come out. What could have gone wrong for him to be hospitalised?

“Miss?” The doctor left Jinyoung’s room and saw your concerned frame.

“Yes. Is Jinyoung okay?”

“His condition is currently stable. We are running some scans to check his condition. We’ll be able to comment in better detail once the results are out.”

“What did he come to the hospital with?” She looked up at you after rereading Jinyoung’s record.

“It looks like he was strangled. He also seemed to have taken a great impact in his right eye, he mentioned momentarily not seeing hence why we need to run some things.”

“Doc, you’re telling me he was strangled and punched.”

“Not punched. He was strangled up against a wall to the point where he passed out. The suspect left him to drop causing the patient’s eye to collide with a surface.” You understood the collision analysis. It was possible to hit something when falling in the leisure centre. Stairs, fencing, shower steps, (etc).

“And have the authorities found out who did it?”

“A male by the name of Max Poach. He had some minor scratches, most likely by Mr Park whilst trying to resist the strangling although I can’t confirm. He’s in a check-up room near reception for your interest.” Your face dropped. He took it this far…

With that the doctor went back to doing her rounds leaving you to process all of what you just heard. Max left Jinyoung there passed out? He took whatever it he was building up inside, all the rage and anger and acted so viciously all for what? You didn’t even know if you could step inside Jinyoung’s room. Whilst you were debating with your head in your knees on your seat you heard a load of rushing footsteps coming your way. You couldn’t even bother lifting your head up to see who they were. They stopped in front of you before entering the room. Who did you have to confront?

“Y/N?” Sounds like Mark.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.” Mark looked at Jaebeom who was beside him. The rest stayed at JYP to continue with their company meeting. If it was a serious case under their judgement they decided they would call the rest to come.

“How is he?” You picked up on Jaebeom’s presence too.

“I just came.. I-I don’t…” You started sobbing. You couldn’t bring yourself to enter the room. You didn’t want to see the damage done to someone you… you didn’t even know… did you love him?

“Shhh… Y/N. None of this is your fau-“ Mark tried to calm you down but you predicted this phrase to escape his mouth.

“It is Mark. These two know of each other because of me. They had a serious fight because of me. If I was just there today… may-maybe just maybe I could have stopped it.”

“You weren’t teaching today?” Jaebeom was confused.

“I-I had a meeting with that important client I men-mentioned last time we met. Usually when I don’t come to lessons, Max takes over. Jooheon, my boss, rang to say everything was fine but it’s not f-fine.” You were practically crying at this rate. You couldn’t believe things had gone too far. You imagine what sort of hopeless situation Jinyoung must have been in. Strangled and left passed out. It just triggered you to cry more.

“Y/N. Me and Jaebeom are going to go inside. You can join us soon once you’ve calmed down and ready, okay?” Mark kneeled down to your level and made sure to make eye contact, you looked up at both of them and gave them a slight nod.

“Just knock and we’ll be there. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this Y/N.” Jaebeom patted your head as they passed you and entered the room.

THIRD PERSON POV

Mark and Jaebeom entered the room slowly just in case Jinyoung was asleep resting. This wasn’t the case. Jinyoung was up and turned his head slowly towards his members.

He had bandaging wrapped around his neck restraining him from any sudden movements. Packed cushioning on his right eye held by some more bandaging. The colour from his face had drained. He was already pale but now he was just like a sheet of paper. He looked ill. The life out of him sucked out. What the fuck had Max done…

“Before you ask, yes she’s here. She’s trying to muster up the courage to come in. She’ll be here once she’s ready.” Max beat Jinyoung to his question.

“I don’t blame her. Look at me.” Jinyoung signalled at his battered state.

“We all know you could have retaliated but it’s too risky. You have a lot on the line. The group being one of them so thank you.” Jaebeom grabbed a chair and sat near Jinyoung.

“Next time beat the shit out of him though. You have our permission. I don’t care what we have to go through to clear your name. You’re still human at the end of the day, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” Mark bursted in anger. His duality would scare anyone. He entered calm and composed only to set alight as soon as he spoke. He wasn’t having it.

“Will there even be a n-next time? He was caught on camera. I overheard the d-doctors talking about officers b-beside him throughout his check-up.” Jinyoung spoke. His voice sounded groggy.

“He’ll probably just be charged or some sort of warning. He’ll probably be sacked too, he works with people, I’m sure the centre won’t let him continue.” Jaebeom gathered.

“This guy must be a maniac. He just ruined his life over a female. I know you have an interest in her, but you need to think for yourself before anyone else.” Mark clarified. He didn’t get why someone would resort to violence without trying to sort out the situation like civil people. Similar to Y/N’s thought.

“She must be so conflicted.” Jinyoung struggled to voice his opinion. It hurt for him to speak. He just hoped his vocal cords weren’t damaged, nothing permanent at least. Doc said she’d clarify him of the results to confirm any damage, aware of his profession. Singing is his life; He wasn’t going to lose his pride possession that easily.

“If she comes, can you guys give us some time?” The other two nodded.

“Your life was on the line yet you’re here thinking about her. You’re not just interested bro, you’re whipped.” Jaebeom gave a sneaky smirk trying to lighten the mood up. Jinyoung’s expression changed showing some form of life; He smiled knowing what Jaebeom had said was right.

“What did the doctor say?” Mark was still really concerned.

“V-vocal cords. She’s checking them.”

“Fuck my life. It’s that bad. Should I ring the others to come?”

Jinyoung waved his hands no, “I-I don’t want to handle questions. I-I can barely speak.”

Suddenly the 3 guys turned their heads due to a click near the door. Y/N had built up courage to check Jinyoung’s condition. She had enough of imagining and just wanted to know how bad he was.

Y/N’S POV

You took a deep breath in. You could do this. You would have to see him at one point anyways so just do it now instead of eating away on your own sanity. With that, you got a good grip of the door handle and pushed the door open.

“… I-I can barely speak.” You heard the ending of a sentence by a croaky voice. It started to settle in even more how bad Jinyoung’s condition was.

You could only see the edge of Jinyoung’s bed when you entered but you made instant eye contact with Mark. He gave you a reassuring smile which prompted you to walk in a little further.

“We’ll be outside.” Mark signalled his head towards the door to Jaebeom. Jaebeom got the idea of who had entered the room.

The two walked past you. Jaebeom gave you a brotherly pat on the shoulder as they left. You could do this.

You took small steps to the corner that would reveal Jinyoung fully. You revealed your head around the corner to see Jinyoung laying there but you couldn’t handle the site. You retracted back to hiding. You were going to converse from here if you had to.

“Does it hurt?” You didn’t even know what to say.

“No.” Jinyoung was trying he best not to sound hurt so you didn’t feel any form of guilt.

“Liar.” But you were too smart.

“A little.”

“Hmm… I’ll save you the talk then. I know how much I’ve apologised to you since we’ve met, and you’ve mentioned how you don’t want me to apologise for others’ actions. B-but Jinyoung I’m so sorry.” You crouched down with your back against the wall. Jinyoung could hear your sobbing.

“I’m so so sorry. I’m s-sorry I didn’t tell you I-I wouldn’t be in today. I should have got in contact.” You had lost it again.

Jinyoung couldn’t handle not being able to hug you in his embrace. He didn’t like how hopeless he was in his hospital bed. He wanted to shh you and tell you to not apologise. He wanted to tell you what was on his mind, but his body wouldn’t allow it.

“Y-Y/N.” Jinyoung heard your sobs hold back when you heard your name.

You looked up as he called your name. It reminded you of when he called your name for the first time. You liked the sound of your name when he said it.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response.

“C-come here.”

You were hesitant but it wasn’t the best thing to not listen to Jinyoung right now. You got back onto your feet and peaked at Jinyoung around the corner again. He was directly looking at where you would show up. You weren’t able to make eye contact with him as you walked to the seat Jaebeom had pulled to Jinyoung’s bed. Your eyes were glued to the floor.

“L-look at me Y/N.” You knew the reason why his sentences were more demanding. He could barely speak so he kept it short. You looked up at the one eye that wasn’t covered. He met your watery eyes. He wouldn’t think to see you crying again after the day you stepped between him and Max. He made a promise to himself to make you smile no matter the situation.

“I-I’ll definitely be drowning now, won’t I?” You couldn’t believe he was making a swimming joke at this moment. You let out a chuckle more because you were shocked at this comment.

“Seriously… you’re making a joke at this point of your life.”

“It’s p-perfect timing. I get to see you smile; it suits you... to smile.” His comment towards your smile made you smile even more.

“It suits you too… to smile.” You took a hold of his hand and rubbed your thumb against his knuckles. You let out another chuckle because of the size difference between your hands.

“What?”

“I understand why people say I have small hands.” You lined up your hand and Jinyoung’s hand together and showed him the big difference. He smiled at your innocence and purity.

“You know what they say about big hands.” You mouth fell agape. Was he making dirty jokes in this current situation as well?

“I thought Jaehyun was bad.” He chuckled but it hurt for it to last long. He winced at the pain.

“You good? Should I call a nurse?” Jinyoung waved you no.

“It’s expected. Waiting for results now.” You nodded wishing that the results would be out at this very moment.

“I’ll ask what happened between you two when you’re better. I don’t want to cause even more damage to what has already been done.”

He gave you that gaze again. Taking responsibility for others’ actions. He hated it.

The door opened and the doctor from earlier walked back in.

“Hello Mr Park. Feeling any better?”

“Barely.” You looked back down again, eyes glued on the floor.

“Results are not out yet. I was going to check if you could consume food or if we’ll need to feed you through a syringe. I’ve bought some soup from the cafeteria. Miss can help you to see if you can eat.” You looked up at the tray in the doctor’s hand and took it from her. You gave her a nod.

“I’ll let you know if he’s able to eat the soup. I’ll press the buzzer to have you notified.”

“Great. I wish you a quick recovery Mr Park.”

The doctor left the room. Jinyoung didn’t have a ‘time to drink soup’ face on but you were going to convince him no matter what.

“Don’t even think of not having this soup. I’ll try my best not to mum you, but you heard the doc.”

“Mum me… I-I don’t mind.” You scooped a spoon full of the soup and blew a little on it (not advised during the periods of COVID-19, take care of yourselves).

“Open up. Try your best.” He swallowed the soup and his arm gripped your arm due to the pain. The instant reflex caught you off guard and you felt sorry for the pain he was feeling.

“Doable?”

You looked up at his one eye ready with another scoop. He nodded wanting to try once more. Yet again he winced in pain with the same reflex.

“Syringe?” He nodded again. You pressed the buzzer on the wall and the doctor was back again soon after.

“I don’t think Mr Park will get through a bowl of soup without a lot of pain. I think the syringe will be better.” The doctor took note on Jinyoung’s record and called in a nurse about the syringe hours.

“Thanks doctor.” You liked the kind and keen approach she had towards her job.

“It’s our job Miss.” The doctor then left the room.

You looked back at Jinyoung only to see him staring right through you. He wanted to ask you why you weren’t in and luckily you owed him an explanation.

“I wasn’t in for the lesson because I had a project meeting with the hotel client I mentioned on Friday. Whenever I’m not in lessons, Max covers for me since he’s the only teacher free during that period. I gave Jooheon a ring and he told me not to worry and just concentrate on the meeting. I was going to tell you prior to the lesson but I had so much to do over the weekend for this meeting that it went over my head. I’m so- “

“Don’t.” You stopped in your tracks. Right don’t apologise for everything.

“How d-did it go?”

“It went really well. He mentioned the…” You trailed off having realised that you had completely forgotten about the news that was published across all platforms.

“The news?” So, he was aware?

“To our luck he actually seemed fond of the news. He even bought flowers as a congratulations gift which was a little odd. I did break it to him what the actual truth was, but he was happy regardless. We swiftly moved onto the project and he was really happy with the outcome. The hotel will be built for 2022 and construction starts really soon.”

He felt like a proud mum. He wished he could go on and on about how proud he was of your achievement, but his current state wouldn’t allow him.

“I-I’m sorry for the n-news.” This was different, he was the one apologising this time.

“I would say that it’s fine, but I have to be honest it’s not. My phone has been going off since the meeting from random numbers and my company entrance was filled with paparazzi right before the meeting. I haven’t got back to my friends or family because god knows where to start.”

“My manager will h-handle it. Y-you shouldn’t have to go through this c-crap.” You guessed that the news will be taken down or some sort of announcement will be made by his side to clear it up.

“That’s good to know. I’m going to give the meeting holders a quick ring, I left abruptly after hearing Jooheon over the phone. Give me a second.”

You got off from the chair and gave Beck a ring whilst gazing out the window. This was so hectic.

“Hey Y/N, is everything okay?” Beck sounded so worried on the other end of the line.

“Hi Beck, you’re going to have to go alone with Mr Chan. I won’t be able to make it. Let him know that I’ll make it up to him but I’m at an emergency situation right now. I’ll talk to you later too. I owe you one.”

“Understood. Don’t drain yourself out with whatever it is. Me and Mr Chan will be fine. We seem to have caught him on a happy day anyways, don’t worry.” You knew you could always count on Beck.

“That’s great. Make sure to forward him my apologies. Have fun.” You hung up the phone and returned back to Jinyoung’s side.

“You should g-go.” Jinyoung spoke up.

“You want me to go to a meal knowing that you’re being fed through a needle looking out the window with only one eye. I don’t think so Jinyoung.” It was unfortunately the bitter truth. He read your face well and you weren’t up for listening to him right now.

For the rest of that day you were with Jinyoung. Every time the nurses would come to change his bandaging you’d have to step out. You couldn’t bear to look at what Max had done to Jinyoung. You’d always ask the nurses as they left if there were any signs of healing, but they’d just say it’s too early to tell. Later on, in the evening the rest of the guys came by and stayed with Jinyoung. You would also leave then, to give them time to have their talks.

Monday Evening

“Y/N, I’m sure Jinyoung wouldn’t like to see you slaving away in the corridors of a hospital. Why don’t you head home and rest up? You can come back in the morning to check up on him.” Mark stepped out of the room and started to get worried at how long you hadn’t eaten and gotten some rest.

“Mark, I’m really not in the mood. I’ll just end up procrastinating at home and get even more worried. Sleep definitely won’t be visiting me tonight if anyhwere but at this hospital.” Mark shook his head, understanding where you were coming from.

“I’m going to stay over the night. You guys can all go. He’s in good hands. Here’s my number. You can contact me if anything’s up and I’ll make sure to pick up.” You handed over your business card which had your contact details on it to Mark.

“We’ll be leaving in 5. Make sure to get some rest too. I don’t want another casualty in our hands.” He smiled trying to make you feel better.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of both of us.”

Like Mark had said, 5 minutes later the boys departed from the hospital informing you to get in contact with them if anything in the slightest happens. You said your goodbyes and they were off. You returned back into Jinyoung’s room to see his eyes shut.

Hes had a rough day. A really rough day. It’s weird how both of your days started of normal only to stoop to a miserable level. It’s expected for him to be tired. Now was the time for him to get some rest in order to recover. You just hoped that no permanent damage was done, or you won’t be able to forgive yourself until the day you die. You were willing to be by his side until he was fully recovered. Stay beside him and even have him in your own home so you can nurse him easily. You could hear his light snoozing as he drifted into a deeper sleep.

The nurse came in to check everything for the evening. She noticed the patient asleep so toned down her voice.

“Miss, would you like us bring in a portable guest bed?”

“If it won’t cause much hassle and noise, then that would be great. Thank you.” The nurse smiled and left the room to bring you your bed.

…

Your bed arrived with its sheets and a plump pillow on top. The hospital even had some pyjamas laid out on the bed for you to change into. You used the on suite bathroom to change into the pjs. You had taken off your makeup with the cleansing wipes you always carried with you and sat on the bed.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Jinyoung. The poor man went through such a traumatic day with you being the cause of it all. You slowly got off the bed avoiding any creaky noises from the springs and kneeled down, so you were level with Jinyoung’s face. You brushed the strands of hair that were covering his face to aside. He looked effortless even in this state. Not many could achieve. You lighted stroked his cheek feeling his warm skin which had gained more colour compared to what it looked like at first. His calm sleep self gave you so much to look at. His perfect proportions, short but cute eyelashes, noticeably larger but cute ears and his lips. Oh, how much you wanted them to make contact with yours again, just like they did in the sand that day. You were sure he felt the same, there was no denying.

JINYOUNG’S POV

You were sure she thought you were sleep. Her presence was near enough for you to guess the difference between you two. 10cms apart from someone you gave so much care about. 10cms away from someone you were sure you could say, you loved. No matter how early it may be, you knew from the start that she was the one. You were just too hesitant on things moving quickly. This injury being one factor that’ll definitely be slowing down anything from progressing quickly, deterred you from that happening.

You really wanted to open your eyes. To look into the deep world that her eyes held and be her guardian angel. To tell her how much she’s been on your mind since the first encounter. Whilst you were running through the things you wanted to say to Y/N, you felt a gentle peck against your cheek and a whisper.

“What have you done to me silent parrot? Goodnight.”

Silent parrot? You guess that’s something you’ll need to question Y/N on once you’re more able to talk. With that, you sensed Y/N snuggle into her bed and you decided to do the same. Lots of sleep is going to be needed in order to recover from all the injuries.

Tuesday Morning

You were an early bird. Having the nurses change your syringe and bandaging every so often didn’t exactly help with a consistent sleep. Every night visit by the nurses you’d make sure to ask them to be really silent, so Y/N didn’t wake up.

The clock across you struck 7 am but you didn’t care what the time was because you had a little lamb beside you still fast asleep. She looked so cute. You noticed how true she was about her hands too. They looked tiny as they laid on the pillow next to her face. She was snuggled, hugging her duvet like it was a snuggly toy.

The sun started to peak through the blinds and hit Y/N directly in the face. She should wake up soon, you thought.

Y/N’S POV

You woke up to a small heat against your face and a lightened environment. It was now morning. You rubbed your eyes and slowly opened them. You checked over at the side table and grabbed your glasses to clearly see Jinyoung. He was wide awake.

“G-good morning.” There was a little more life in his voice but still groggy.

“Good morning, did you get some sleep? How do you feel?” You sat up with your legs crossed under the duvet.

“In small dosages, yes. I-I feel a b-bit more rested.” You shot him a smile and got up from your bed due to a knock at the door. Considering it wasn’t a doctor since they didn’t just come in you guessed it was a visitor of some sorts.

“I’ll get it.” You told Jinyoung and opened the door. Jinyoung was able to hear who you were talking to.

“Oh. Hi Mona, I’m guessing Beck sent you with all the things I asked for.”

“Yes Miss. I have your workwear in here and a light breakfast too. I’ve parked your car downstairs so you can get to work with no hassle. If that’s all, I’ll be off.”

You ruffled her hair for being so formal even though you knew each other for the past 4 years, “Stop being so formal. I know you’re my assistant and all but you’re also my friend. If there isn’t much work for you today why don’t you hang around and we can go to work together?”

“I’d love to Miss- “

You chuckled, “Stop with the Miss.”

“Fine. Mr Longing had some tasks planned for me to do when I got back and apparently they are urgent, so I’ll have to decline Y/N. Maybe another time.”

“Bummer. Alright, thank you for helping out. We can have a meal another time. I should be at the company before midday.”

“See you Y/N.” You waved Mona goodbye and headed back into the room. Jinyoung almost had a sulking face on and you never knew you needed to see him pouting in your entire life.

“Are you sulking… by any chance?” You stood at the end of Jinyoung’s bed and looked at his facial expression.

“No.” As he declined your outrageous question, he crossed his arms and looked away from you. You were dealing with grown baby.

“Could it possibly be because I need to head to work?”

“Hmph.” He kept his arms crossed. You didn’t know you’d see him in this way in your life.

If he was playing baby, let’s see what he felt when you told him, “I never really liked guys who sulked.” You weren’t being serious, but you just really wanted to get a reaction out of him.

He uncrossed his arms immediately, “I wasn’t sulking. I was just…”.

“Just?” You got him on edge, and it was funny to see you mostly in control of a situation this time round. He’d usually be the one with the upper hand but not this time. Still no answer.

“Cat caught your tongue Park?” You were having way too much fun.

“Damn. You really don’t like guys who sulk?” You couldn’t hold in the truth any longer.

“I don’t mind Jinyoung. I’m just playing with you.” You chuckled at his defeat.

“Phew. Back to what I was doing,” He crossed his arms again and faced away from you, “Don’t go.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. He just switched back into a baby in milliseconds.

“No wonder why you’re an actor. Acting… shit. What’s going to happen with the drama?” It sunk to you how many things this situation has affected.

“P-postponed.” You felt shit again. He stopped with the sulking at this point and realised your drop in energy.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N. Things will be b-back to normal soon-“

Before Jinyoung could finish his words, his doctor rushed into the room. She seemed like she was out of breath. You looked at Jinyoung and you both eyed the doctor waiting for her to explain her rush.

“Sorry for…the sudden entrance. The… results-“ She was really longing out the news. Was it bad? Was it good? You couldn’t handle her short pauses.

“Can you just say it?”

“Yes… Miss. There’s good and bad news.” You looked at Jinyoung and his face was definitely different to how he was a minute ago. No longer a child but an adult.

“D-doc. Bad n-news first.”

“Mr Park… your vocal cords…” The doctor was also aware of how much Jinyoung’s vocal cords meant.

“Say it, Doc.” Jinyoung couldn’t take it anymore either.

“You won’t be able to sing...”

---

I can already hear all of you hating me for this ending too. I feel so evil. I was planning on continuing but I wanted to be a tease again. You’ll have to be back for the next episode to find out the good news. I wanted to say whilst writing this episode half of the time I was in delulu land. I felt sad having Jinyoung in such a vulnerable situation and thought what it would be like looking after him. I have left that land though, much healthier not thinking delulu.

I hope you guys enjoyed!

writer-nim x

[cienie-isengardu]

Why do you think Jango Fett hired Dred Priest and Isabet Reau, even tho they were suspected death watch sympathizers? I cant imagine the Commandos they trained would be happy to be serving under jedi...

Before I will talk about Priest and Reau, I think is worth to point that no Mandalorian training commandos was overly fond of Jedi or Republic.  Not all commandos / ARC liked to work with Jedi, some were disappointed by their force-sensitive commanders, but I doubt Dred and Isabet personal hate/dislike, even if passed down to their trainees, would make soldiers disobey the orders coming from Jedi. Frankly, commandos get along & work the best with their own brothers, but that is just the way they were raised. Personal feelings will not get in the way, they are too professional for that.

As for the major ask, here we go:

The Imperial Commando: 501’st raised this topic in one of talk between Ordo and Mij Gilamar:

“What was Jango doing recruiting them? He had more reason to hate the Death Watch than anybody.”

“Priest and Reau weren’t exactly card-carrying members. Jango thought they were all talk. He only cared about results.”

But I think the matter was more complicated than that.

Jango Fett hired one hundred people - the best soldiers, tacticians, sappers, communicators, survival experts - to train future Republic Commandos, but managed to get only 75 Mandalorians. Due to Jango Fett: Open Season comics, we know that many friends / associates / allies of Jango were interrogated - and most likely killed afterwards, like Silas - by Dooku during his “research” about Fett’s past, so the limited number of people to choose from influenced the decision to some degree. 

We know little about Isabet, but Dred was considered as a good (albeit idiot) soldier, so he met the requirements.

Then again, even with limited choices, Fett still didn’t want to hire Kal Skirata and he did so only because Walon Vau insisted. But Vau hated Death Watch above everything else, and I don’t think he would agree to work for Fett and/or get along with Priest and Reau, if they were true Death Watch sympathizers back then. 

“How do you lie to a Jedi Master?” Laseema asked. “Without him sensing it, that is?”

“I didn’t,” said Vau. “I said I’d tell him if I found Kal doing anything to help the enemy. The minute that this little shabuire opens a comlink to any former Death Watch personnel, I shall gladly turn him in.”

Skirata paused for a moment, then managed to laugh. “Do I know any?”

“No, but they’re the only group I’d really call my enemy. So I didn’t lie, and I was genuinely emotional enough for him to believe what his Force senses told him he wanted to believe.” [Order 66]

In this short passage, Vau says that Kal Skirata does not know any former members of Death Watch, so during the conflict between DW and True Mandalorians, Reau and Priest weren’t part of enemy group. So, if Jango knew them (otherwise, how he could judge if their skills are good enough to train future commandos?), they most likely were his former allies / subordinates or some freelancers whom he met over the years, right? 

Between Order 66 and 501’st, the biggest hater of Dred and Isabet is Mij Gilamar and I think his hate is only partially fueled by their Death Watch-like ideology. He is the one to say “`They had the makings of the Death Watch in them, those two. Him and that perverted secret fight club, her and that let’s-conquer-the-galaxy-again osik”. Alongside him, Ordo and Skirata were the most vocal about those two Mandalorians. Interesting, Walon Vau - for whom Death Watch is trigger to extreme hatred - did not despite them openly, at least until he saw DW badge on their armors. Then, he was all okay with killing them.

Here is the thing: was Dred and Isabet truly Death Watch sympathizers back on Kamino, or did their ideological thinking was just additional reason why Mij hated them both? Because we know he “loathed them with passion” and being “marooned indefinitely on Kamino with folks you hated on sight and nowhere to escape them” for sure did not help the situation. 

Frankly, Mij and Dred is not the first duo that fought and hated each other guts. Walon Vau, when introduced, also was seen as the psycho, cruel, bad Mandalorian; an image fueled by Skirata’s, Ordo’s and Atin’s POV yet with passing time, perception of his character has changed. So, can we be sure that Dred and Isabet were so awful? Especially since Vau and Fett could tolerate their sentiments, even if that sounded a lot like Death Watch’s ideology?

This leads me to two conclusion.

The Priest and Reau’s ideology was not really unique only to Death Watch. They wanted A) Mandalore to be great empire again, B) Mandalorian people to serve their own interest rather than fighting for foreign governments and strangers. Most likely many other Mandalorians were bitter about their past and current situation. If we take Legends and New Canon into account, this kind of sentiment actually makes sense. Death Watch may take that into extreme, but even people like Skirata - or his just-adjusting to Mandalorian life daughter - from time to time were thinking that Mandalorians shouldn’t fight for aruetii (foreigners) and doing their dirty jobs.

“I’m not arguing,” Gilamar said. “Just making it clear that if I run into Dred and he starts on that bring-back-the-good-old-days garbage, I’ll gut him. And his crazy girlfriend.”

“No reason to run into him,” Ordo said. “Unless you’re in Keldabe.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we started fighting for our own interests?” Ruu took the mug out of her father’s hand and peered into it as if checking up on him. “I’m not saying this guy’s right, but being at every aruetii’s beck and call and doing the dying for them doesn’t sound smart to me. Look at this world. It’s dirt-poor. That’s not much to show for the lives we’ve spent on shoring up other governments.”

“Good point,” Vau said. “You’re definitely a Skirata.”

That was an odd thing for Vau to say, seeing as no Mando cared much about biological parentage. It was a culture of adoption and blurred lines between offspring and in-laws.

He just means she says the same things as Kal'buir. That’s all.

If Skirata can talk/think how Mandalorians shouldn’t kill each other for foreigners’ money, like in True Colors:

Mandalorians ended up killing one another for all kinds of reasons, personal and incidental. It still didn’t make it right. The covert ops troopers sent after Sull, now these strangers-the thought of nek dogs came back to him, dog set on dog for sport, or just a killing machine to do the master’s bidding. Skirata felt it was time Mando'ade stopped being everyone’s nek.

then maybe the idea of “coming back to roots” and creating one mighty army is not so controversial? I mean, Jaster Mereel saw Mandalorians as just well-paid mercenaries, yet by leading (at least three) military units of well trained warriors he had better bargaining position to pick up missions, clients and how much money should be paid than a lone mandalorian freelancer could have. I think that last decade or so before the Clone Wars was time in which “national movements” happened in various mandalorian groups.

We may only wonder how much Priest and Reau’s ideology changed over the years, when they all were stuck on Kamino training little kids to fight for Republic/Jedi Order that no Mandalorian was overly fond of.  

There is also the little passage in Bounty Hunter Code, in which Jango commented that the Death Watch manifesto does not sound like Tor Vizsla (that Fett considered just a thug), the original leader of the group. But is something that Priest or Reau could said.

Jango could not be aware of how deep they felt about the whole “great mandalorian empire”, but either, like 501’st said, he thought they were all talk or knew, but did not care.

What brings me to the second point. Jango changed a lot between Jaster Mereel’s death and agreeing to be DNA donor for Great Army of Republic. Especially after Galidraan. He agreed to work for Dooku, because the man promised to destroy Jedi Order. And as much as Jango hated Death Watch, ultimately he hated Jedi even more. So, he could be as well aware that Priest and Reau were at heart Death Watch sympathizers, but did not care. He needed the best soldiers to train an army to eliminate Jedi - the ultimately enemy of all Mandalorians - once and for good.

“Now do you see? Do you?“ Vau hissed the sibilant like escaping steam. Mird cowered on the floor, whining softly. “I’m sick to death of your sentimental twaddle about Jango betraying us by letting Kamino use his genes. He did it to stop the Jedi. He did it to create an army strong enough to bring them down. You drone on about the injustice of unelected elites, my little working-class hero-well, now they’re gone. Yes, it cost our boys’ lives, but the Jedi are gone, gone, gone. And they won’t be killing Mandalorians again, not for a long time. Maybe never.”

And here comes my, most likely, unpopular opinion: I don’t think Fett cared much for the ideology. He hated Vizsla and DW, because they killed his family and mentor. He lead True Mandalorians because he cared for Jaster Mereel and tried his best to carry on his legacy. But in the end, somehow, in some ironic way, Jango adapted Tor Vizsla’s ruthless determination to achieve his goal. If to destroy Jedi Order he needed to sacrifice milions of his own clones and deal with two Death Watch sympathizers, so be it.

[voidgriff]

𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖕'𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 ⇢ griffin beck

 hello !!  i’m    lava...  18,  mst,  any  pronouns, you  know  the  deal.  here’s  a  bit  about  miss  griffin,  our  local  wolf  sheep!  i’m  banking  on  plotting  with  every  single  one  of  ya’ll  and  i’m  easiest  to  reach  via  discord  so...  enjoy  the  read  it’s  way  too  long  sorry

 first  and  foremost,  here  are  the  basics  about  griffin:  20,  cis  female,  she/her,  fourth  year  criminal  justice  student, client  coordinator  at  foxglove  florists,  guitarist,  closeted  lesbian,  and  melanie’s  roommate  (before  she  croaked). 

griffin  was  born  and  raised  in  manhattan  to  parents  who  didn’t  know  how  to  function  and  wore carhartt  overalls.  they  weren’t  entirely  well  off,  but  were  the  type  of  family  to  always  try  to  keep  fresh  flowers  on  the  dining  table  and  have  game  nights  with  their  friends.  truly,  a  young  griffin  loved  her  life.  she  was  treated  good,  her  parents  were  loving,  her  surprise  younger  brother  was  cute.

(tw:  drugs,  cults)  that’s  all  until  she  turned  nine. the  b  in  beck  stood  for  bankrupt. of  course,  the  quick  solution  for  griffin’s  father  was  to  join  a  cult.  classic,  right?  a  man  on  the  subway  coerced  him  into  joining,  saying  that  they’d  take  care  of  all  of  the  beck  family’s  financial  and  spiritual  problems.  the  family  stayed  in  the  cult  for  five  years,  dabbling  in  drugs  (starting  at  age  twelve  for  griffin),  praying  to  a  god  they’d  never  heard  before,  and  all  that  jazz.  they  were  pretty  content.  i  mean,  they  were  all  brainwashed  into  believing  they  were  living  the  life  they  were  supposed  to.  however,  a  bad  acid  trip  made  mama  beck  realize  that  the  cult  wasn’t  so  great  after  all  (she  was  right,  finally).  days  later,  she  took  her  two  children  in  a  stolen  car  and  floored  it  to  a  new  apartment  in  queens  that  didn’t  have  dining  table  flowers  or  carhartt  overalls. 

and...  then  came  the  blame.  griffin  was  helpless,  just  a  kid  who  had  her  childhood  flipped  upside  down  and  missed  her  dad.  having  no  other  logical  reason,  mama  beck  started  to  blame  griffin  for  everything  that  happened.  the  fact  her  husband  wasn’t  around,  their  bankruptcy,  the  cult,  all  of  it.  naturally,  griffin  got  angry.  she  rebelled  against  her  mom,  using  high  school  as  her  escape.  at  school,  she  realized  people  had  normal  lives:  no  cult,  nothing  like  that,  and  griffin  fucking  longed  for  it.  she  got  to  know  everyone  she  could  (stoners,  cheerleaders,  nerds,  the  works)  and  found  comfort  in  their  stories.  she  learned  from  them,  most  importantly.

now  in  college,  griffin  feels  like  the  world  is  in  her  hands.  she  finally  fled  every  dark  entity  in  her  past  and  with  the  help  of  the  info  she  learned  in  high  school,  reinvented  herself  to  become  someone  she’s  finally  satisfied  with.  when  asked  about  her  past,  she  lies.  it’s  what  she  has  to  do  to  live  the  life  she  wants.  instead  of  starting  her  teenage  years  off  in  a  cult,  others  learn  that  she  lived  the  simpler  life  in  said  manhattan  apartment  up  until  moving  to  illinois.  there’s  no  mom  or  brother  in  her  picture,  just  a  dad  who  would  do  anything  and  everything  for  his  favorite  daughter.  that’s  how  it  always  should  have  been,  isn’t  it?  instead  of  an  actual  flesh  bottle  of  hate,  griffin  comes  across  as  happy  and  loving,  taking  others  who  need  help  under  her  wing.  while  she  tries  to  seem  care  free,  she  monitors  every  single  one  of  her  own  movements.  every  choice  she  makes  is  meaningful  and  there’s  no  way  in  hell  anybody  will  learn  a  single  thing  about  her  past  (or  sexuality!)  on  her  watch.  she’s  a  meme  queen,  really,  drawing  memes  in  her  planner    instead  of  inspirational  quotes.  she  knows  how  to  play  more  meme-y    songs  on  her  guitar  than  not,  but  this  side  isn’t  unlocked  until  you    generally  get  to  know  her.

even  though  griffin  presents  herself  this  way,  there’s  still  a  much  darker  side  to  her:  the  void.  yeah,  void.  like,  it’s  a  whole  different  person.  of  course  griffin  couldn’t  patch  herself  up  entirely.  there’s  still  a  hole  in  her  being  that  she  can’t  fill  with  whiskey  and  lukewarm  coffee.  even  though  she  generally  comes  across  as  happy,  there  are  days  when  she  sincerely  can’t  take  hold  of  herself  and  she’s  just  empty.  void  of  all  emotion.  all  that.  it  comes  out  at  all  the  worst  times  and  she  tends  to  be  a  bit  of  a…  lifeless  bitch  when  it  does.  rather  than  void  just  being  an  emotion,  it’s  really  a  whole  different  persona  for  her.  she  has  no  control  of  it,  really.  picture  like…  robbie  shapiro  as  griffin  and  rex  as  void.  some  relationship  like  that.  just  watch  out.

and  some  extra  bits:

pinterest  board !!

wanted  connections !!

griffin: fun  loving  and  as  laid  back  as  you  can  be.  still  dressing  how  your  father  wants,  but  throwing  in  bright  colors  and  shoes  that  have  seen  better  days.  always  laughing  and  smiling,  the  longing  to  get  to  know  more  people  without  giving  them  information  in  return.  plastering  memes  on  your  walls  to  make  yourself  smile  after  a  long  day  and  making  tik  toks  with  friends.  wearing  fancy  perfume  to  go  to  the  grocery  store  because  you  know  it’ll  make  the  cashier  happy,  having  one  too  many  white  claws  and  throwing  your  shoe  across  a  crowded  party.  picking  up  the  ugliest  blazers  at  the  thrift  store  to  give  them  a  home.  certain  songs  bringing  up  bad  memories  and  not  feeling  like  talking  to  your  friends  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  keeping  the  extra  buttons  and  movie  stubs  because  you  know  you’ll  need  them  in  case  you  forget  yourself.

void: radio  static  interrupted  by  an  emergency  signal.  ignoring  a  hurricane  warning  and  simply  bringing  in  the  outdoor  furniture.  letting  the  tap  run  until  the  bathtub  overflows.  smoking  a  pack  a  day  just  to  feel  warm  inside.  a  king  not  flinching  as  he  watches  someone  get  decapitated.  feeling  like  you’re  nothing  more  than  the  skeleton  inside  you.  crying.  sleeping  on  the  floor  instead  of  your  bed  because  you  feel  like  its  what  you  deserve.  burning  yourself  with  a  cigarette  for  the  hell  of  it.  wearing  clothes  from  your  dirty  laundry  hamper  instead  of  something  from  your  clean  closet.  getting  on  a  bus  and  not  knowing  which  stop  you’ll  get  off  at.  nosebleeds  you  just  can’t  seem  to  stop.

[meganlpie]

Pretty Woman

Anonymous asked: Hi! Could you write Pretty Woman AU with Tony Stark? Thank you. I love your style of writing.

Here you go, anon! I do not own Tony Stark. He belongs to Marvel!

Warnings: Pretty Woman AU!(Still SFW), angst with a happy ending, mentions of unwanted advances and a little teeny bit of violence.

Pairings: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Being an escort was never part of your plan. You wanted to go to business school. But business school took money and money was something you didn’t have. You had tried all the normal college kid jobs, but nothing seemed to let you earn enough money to start school. When all your other resources had failed, you caught sight of a sign in a window. You went in and that’s when life changed.

         Now, here you were in your late twenties, and still not in business school. While you made good money as an escort, your former roommate wasn’t so lucky. She had been up to eyeballs in debt and you decided to help her out whenever you could. It felt nice to help, but it left you no closer to your goal. You were nearly there, but it would take a big fish client to push you over your goal. You never got those. Until one day.

         "Hey, Y/N?“ You glanced up from your planner and smiled at Maria. She was your boss and one of the best ones you’d ever had. "What’s up?” Maria looked at her tablet and scrolled down. “How much do you know about Tony Stark?” Your eyes widened. Everyone who was anyone knew who Tony Stark was. He was only the richest man in New York with a playboy reputation.

         "Why?“ Maria gave you a grin that almost looked sinister. "Because he’s looking for an escort for a week. He’s going away on business and needs someone to distract him from the stuffed shirts, his words not mine.” You shook your head. “B-But I’ve never had a client that big before, Maria. Why not give it to Natasha?” Maria arched a brow. “Didn’t you hear? Natasha quit. She’s getting married to a soldier. You’re my best girl now and I say you can handle Tony Stark. So, what do you say? One week.”

         You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you could handle being with a guy like that for a week. Especially not with the rules you set in place. A week didn’t seem like long, but a lot could happen in that time. Maria seemed to sense your reluctance and stated, “Did I mention that he’s paying enough to cover your admission into school?” A smile slowly crept onto your face as you said, “I’m in.”

         That was how you found yourself, clad in a new outfit, entering the towering building that was Tony Stark’s home. He’d built the tower from the ground up and lived in a penthouse suite, if the tabloids were to be believed. You approached the front desk with a little sway in your hips. A lot of clients liked to look out ahead of time to see what they were getting. You didn’t know, but maybe Tony was like that.

         A receptionist looked up at you with a smile. “Can I help you?” You told her that you were there to see Tony and her smile dropped into a scowl. “What business do you have with Mr. Stark?” You could see the jealousy and distrust in her eyes. Your red painted lips spread into a smile. “I’m not sure yet. But he is expecting me.” She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped when someone else approached the desk. Her dark gaze brightened immediately and she smiled again.

         "Tammie, she’s right. I’ve been expecting her. I’ll just take her up with me.“ He looped his arm through yours and lead you away from the receptionist’s desk. You glanced over your shoulder to see her expression. She looked like she’d been sucking on a lemon. You smirked and let Tony lead you away.

         Neither of you said a word until you were in the penthouse. You turned to look at him. His dark eyes scanned you up and down and he smiled. "Looks like Hill’s got at least one girl who can keep up with me in the looks department.” You laughed and rolled your eyes. “I see you have no problem in the confidence category. Now, I have a few rules that I hope you’ll be willing to follow. If not, let me know and I’ll see if Maria can get you another girl.”

         Tony’s smile widened a little. “Straight to business, then? Alright, what are your rules?” You nodded and set your purse down nearby. “I have a few little rules that we’ll get to later, but I have two that are the most important. The first is that you will never, and I do mean NEVER offer to share me with any of your friends.”

         "I don’t share well with others anyway. What’s the second?“ You took a few steps close to him so your chests were nearly touching. There was hardly any space at all between you. You lifted your face so you were mere millimeters from his lips. "The second is no kissing on the lips.” You pulled back, leaving a stunned Tony standing there. You held back a laugh at his expression as you asked, “Think you can handle that?” He swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I can handle that.”

*a few days later*

         Tony definitely couldn’t handle it. The more time he spent with you, the harder it was to remember that you were an escort and he was paying you. It wasn’t often that he found a woman that could keep up with him, both intellectually and in the spotlight. But you never shirked away from anything, except kisses on the mouth.

         However, just because Tony forgot that you weren’t really his, didn’t mean that others didn’t question where you came from. And it certainly didn’t stop other men from flirting relentlessly with you. Tony had rarely been jealous before, but for some reason, he couldn’t help but get jealous and want to show others that you weren’t available. All hell broke loose one afternoon.

         Tony had been getting a lot of questions from his friends and coworkers about you. Finally, he admitted to one of them, Brock, that you were an escort. Looking back, Tony knew he never should have said anything. If he hadn’t, things wouldn’t have gone so very wrong.

         Noises from inside the penthouse forced Tony and Thor to run from the elevator. He could hear you yelling and knew it wasn’t good. Throwing open the door, Tony was met with the sight of you slapping Brock. “Come on. How much does Stark pay you? I can double it! Triple it even!” In an instant, Thor picked Brock up by this collar and held him away from you.

         "This is how you treat a lady?“ Thor boomed. The typically mild-mannered man had a temper, especially when it came to the treatment of women. "She’s not a lady! She’s a hooker!” Tony was at your side in an instant while Thor personally escorted Brock out after apologizing to you for having to witness such violence.

         "You okay?“ Tony asked and you glared at him with venom he’d never seen before. "Would you be?! How’d he even know?” Tony looked away. He couldn’t stand the look in your eyes. You scoffed and pushed away from him. “Why?!” you snapped, “Why bother telling me to keep it a secret if you were going to tell everyone that I’m an escort anyway?!”

         "Not sure, really.“ You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You stepped away from him, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. You practically ran toward the bedroom and the closet where your clothes were hanging. Tony felt his heart thudding in his chest as he watching you begin throwing your clothes in a bag.

         "Where are you going?” You silenced him with a glare. “I’m leaving. The week was up today anyway. Thank you for your patronage, Mr. Stark.” Tony wracked his brain for something to say. Anything that would make you stay. He decided on something simple. “You don’t have to leave. I don’t want you to.” You stopped for a moment.

         "And what do you suggest? I have to work.“ Tony came over to you and gently took your hand. "No you don’t. I could set you up in a nice condo and pay for you to go to school.” The look you gave him could have frozen beer. Underneath the venom, Tony could see the pain. You cleared your throat before you spoke again.

         "You know…I’ve been doing this for a long time now. I’ve always known what I am and what it is I do. But I have never felt so cheap until now.“ Tony’s brows furrowed so you continued, "I always dreamed someone would come and take me away from all this. My own Prince Charming. But never once did Prince Charming offer to set me up in condo so I can be there at his beck and call.” You yanked your arm away from him and finished packing. The next thing Tony knew, you were gone.

         For the next couple of weeks, you were all Tony could think about. How had things gotten so messed up? He was Tony Stark for crying out loud! He could have any woman he wanted. So why had he hired an escort and why had he fallen in love with you and then insult you? He had no clue. And he had no idea how to fix it. He was so lost, he even had to talk to Happy about it.          "Well, maybe you should give her the fairy tale she always wanted.“ Tony pondered Happy’s words for days. Give you the fairy tale? A smile spread on Tony’s lips. He knew just how to do that.

         It started with flowers. Every day for a week, you came into work to find a new bouquet of flowers. There was no note, so you had no idea who they were from. Next came cute little science themed cards. The puns had you giggling a little more each day. Finally, one day you walked into work and found a small card. "Turn around” it said.

         With brows drawn together, you followed the cards instructions. There was Tony with yet another bouquet although with a balloon that said, “I’m sorry,” in big letters. You stared at him for a moment. Tony cleared his throat and sighed. “I’m not good at this, Y/N. In fact, I never apologize for anything. But I realize that I screwed up with you. I told you that I wanted to keep you for myself. And I do…but not as an escort. I want to keep you for myself as my girlfriend. My partner-in-crime. My better half. I want to provide for you, if you’ll let me. I-I love you.”

         You stood there in shock. You couldn’t believe he’d said that. Tony couldn’t believe you weren’t saying anything. Maybe you hadn’t heard him. “Y/N, I lo-” He was cut off by you throwing yourself at him and planting a kiss to his lips. Cheers from the other escorts erupted all around you.

         When you pulled away, Tony blinked. “Y-You kissed me on the lips.” You laughed, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “I did. Because I love you too. I tried not to. Love isn’t exactly a good idea in my line of work. But I couldn’t help it. I love you, Tony Stark.” Tony grinned as he leaned in for another kiss.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

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