#can i get a jail term? van i PLEASE get a jail term

[flash-fresh]

Illegal child marriage crackdown in Assam leaves families in anguish

Many of the women, who are now adults, say their families have been torn apart, leaving them angry and helpless.

MORIGAON: Standing outside the local police station in her village in northeast India, 19-year-old Nureja Khatun is anxious. Cradling her 6-month-old baby in her arms, she has been waiting to catch a glimpse of her husband before the police take him away to court.

Nearly an hour later, she sees her husband, Akbar Ali, for just a few seconds when he is shuffled into a police van. An officer slams the door in her face before she is able to get any answers.“Please release my husband. Otherwise take me into custody as well,” she pleaded.

Khatun’s husband is one of more than 3,000 men, including Hindu and Muslim priests, who were arrested nearly two weeks ago in the northeastern state of Assam under a wide crackdown on illegal child marriages involving girls under the age of 18. The action has left her — and hundreds of other women like her who got married under 18 — in anguish.

Many of the women, who are now adults, say their families have been torn apart, leaving them angry and helpless. Khatun relied on Ali, with whom she eloped in 2021 when she was 17, to take care of her. Earning 400 rupees ($5) a day as a labourer, Ali was the sole breadwinner in their family, and the couple had a baby girl six months ago.

“Now there is no one to feed us. I don’t know if my family can survive,” Khatun said. The stringent measures are being carried out in a state, home to 35 million people, where many cases of child marriage go unreported. Only 155 cases of child marriages in Assam were registered in 2021, and 138 in 2020, according to the National Crime Records Bureau.

In India, the legal marriageable age is 21 for men and 18 for women. Poverty, lack of education, and social norms and practices, particularly in rural areas, are considered reasons for child marriages across the country. UNICEF estimates that at least 1.5 million girls under 18 get married in India every year, making it home to the largest number of child brides in the world — accounting for a third of the global total.

India’s National Health Family Survey data shows that more than 31% of marriages registered in Assam involve the prohibited age group. The state government passed a resolution last month to completely eradicate the practice of child marriage by 2026. In some districts, teenage pregnancies are as high as 26%, said Assam’s additional director general of police AVY Krishna.

“These child marriages have become a social evil and as a result, the mortality rates have been quite high,” he said. While the arrests have sparked massive distress among families, with women sobbing outside police stations across the state, the punitive action has also drawn scrutiny from lawyers and activists.

Some men, accused of marrying girls aged between 14 and 18, are being charged under India’s law banning child marriage, which carries a jail term of two years. Other men, accused of marrying girls below 14 years, have been charged under a more stringent law that protects children from sexual offences. This is non-bailable, with jail terms ranging from seven years to life.

Assam police defended their actions as legal under both of these laws, but the High Court in the state’s capital, Guwahati, has questioned the arrests.

“At the moment, the court thinks that these are not matters for custodial interrogation,” it said on Tuesday.Others said the government should raise awareness through education and social campaigns instead of arrests.

“According to Supreme Court guidelines, arrests should be the last resort,” said senior advocate Anshuman Bora. “Out of the blue, they decide to start making mass arrests to tackle the problem. Instead, they should focus on social reforms to stop it."

Activists and political opponents in the state have accused the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) — Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi's party — in power in Assam of carrying out arrests in districts and areas home to many of the state’s Bengali-speaking Muslims. Critics say the community, which migrated over the years from neighbouring Bangladesh, has often been marginalized by authorities, including a contentious citizenship registry in the state that they say discriminated against Muslims.

“We have found that people of all religions have been involved in child marriages,” said lawyer and social activist Hasina Ahmed. “We must not judge communities like this. We must not see caste and religion. We must focus on the investigations and proceed legally to solve the issues."

Officials have denied the accusations and say hundreds of Hindu men have also been arrested. Ahmed said the arrests were doing more harm than good in Assam’s communities. A majority of the affected wives were uneducated, unemployed and came from poor families where their husbands were the sole earners.

“The government could have penalized people for engaging in the practice starting from today. Punishing people now for old child marriages is not appropriate,” she said. Radha Rani Mondal, 50, is determined to get her son out of jail but says she doesn’t have the money or the know-how to navigate the legal system. Her 20-year-old son was arrested on Feb. 4 and her 17-year-old daughter-in-law is pregnant. She spent her last 500 rupees ($6) to hire a lawyer, for whom she owes 20,000 rupees ($250) more.

“I have been going to the police station and to the lawyer every day on an empty stomach. On one hand, I have to arrange money for legal expenses and on the other, I have to run my home and take care of my daughter-in-law. It is very difficult. I feel helpless,” she said, crying.

[acloudkat]

Gossip Girl 2.0

So. . . I was unsure of whether I was going to talk about this or not but… in the end, here we are!

I shall be talking about the Gossip Girl Reboot.

Now quick disclaimer and mild *excuse you* to HBO, please find ways to make your content accessible to Europe because there are those of us that are interested and unfortunately your "Max" service is US only and honestly i see no reasonable logic behind it. Therefore my means of getting access to this content shall not be discussed.

Extra disclaimer, there will be spoilers. Doi.

Now I am a big die hard fan of the original GG series and despite the outdated (to today’s standards) comparisons and slang, some of the topics hold up even today. For anyone curious or questioning my opinion, based on my generation, I am mildly in the middle as a Zelenial at 23. I did not grow up with GG, I learned about it when I was 14 but watched it for the first time when I was 19. Since, I have watched it up to 14-17 times; more than 10 for sure. So you can do with that as you please. The main reason I mention this is due to some articles and comments pointing out that maybe it’s a “Gen Z only media” or that “Millennials are just bitter cause it’s not theirs”. Keeping that in mind I will be as per usual showing the ups and downs of the show (so far and later on) from my own personal perspective.

After watching ep 1. (& now 2 which will be in a separate post after this) I have a few questions, comments AND concerns. So let’s get into those shall we :)

So let's do a little round up of our characters.

We have newcomer Zoya Lott that is moving to NYC on a Constance scholarship! But little did anyone in the show know, it was all a plot to get to be with her *half sister*. WHAT?! So the tldl on that is that Zoya and our other main character, Julien Calloway, share a mom! Mom, that i quote "left Julien's dad for Zoya's dad and the dads hate each other" because of which hate, they had absolutely forbidden their daughters from communicating. One thing led to another, a friend request was sent and this is basically the parent trap. . . . but for the kids. . .and they're aware of it cause they made it. . . I suppose? The parents haven't really been mentioned to matter in their plan, however, they do keep bringing up their middle names as "Zoya Jane and Julien Elizabeth" as clues left by their mother? Now some rumours around the web have connected the names to the Pride and Prejudice novels and while that would be extremely Gossip Girl-esque to do, and I am entirely up for that, hell yea!!! I'm wondering if it's as simple as... their mother's name was Elizabeth Jane... but maybe GG will be the one to discover that secret first? Other than that, Zoya is very much a very trusting "innocent type" character that probably has more past than we know about so it will be quite interesting to see how that elaborates going further into the series.

Then there is self-made influencer Julien Calloway. She is the new version of queen at Constance but as stated, they "don't do the patriarchy anymore". While she appears all smiles and kindness, personally i feel as if JC is kind of fake? She has things she cares about yes, but the moment someone or something interferes with her followers and her social standing or Obie (more on him later)

"the gloves come off and the claws come out" - Serena Van der Woodsen

When it comes to Julien I am honestly more curious to see who she is once you take away the followers and the media. Will she be an actual person or just a shallow obsessed spoiled brat? I just hope it won't be the typical story of "have to be perfect and have to have everyone like me because my mom left" ie. has mommy issues. That is how that cliche goes after all. So I am greatly hoping that's not going to be it for this one.

Obie Bergmann! We get introduced to Obie as Julien's boyfriend. Throughout ep 1, the things we learn about Obie are that he is basically the richest in the group, and lives in Dumbo. (irony from original GG for anyone that can guess it). He appears like a super nice and kind dude, a supportive boyfriend, kind of bland and tired of the relationship but the main thing that bothers me about him so far is his impossible to ignore "white guilt syndrome". For anyone unaware, "white guilt" is "remorse or shame felt by a white person with respect to racial inequality and injustice". While it's not a bad thing trying to make up for the in-equality in the world, here's hoping that's not his entire character cus that would get old quick.

Then we have the bestie, Audrey Hope. Audrey. . . is cold but to the point. Very analysing and observing. Definitely the type of character that would take all the info first and decide what to do after. I both like and am confused by her? Her cold mannerisms are quite enjoyable among the masses of drama and emotion I won't lie. However, i do predict a juicy threesome between her, boyfriend Aki and one Max Wolfe. Honestly, I am highly interested in how their relationship evolves.

Aki Menzies is kind of a mystery as of the moment. As to be expected with just 1 episode, we won't know too much about all the characters. He is the very supportive boyfriend that tries to keep the peace between everyone.

Max Wolfe on the other hand appears like the much more flamboyant version of Chuck Bass, if Chuck Bass had a supportive family environment and no limits on who he's dating. That's more or less for him but kuddos for his 0 hesitation to basically have a pic of his dick sent to everyone. I will never not find that hilarious. But again, between these three is my prediction for some juicy interactions. Cause to be fully honest, the chemistry is undeniable.

Monet de Haan. Ah. She is honestly the savage that we need around here. She is the control and the power behind Julien's brand honestly. I am curious how come she helps Julien with her brand rather than have her own? If we go off anything said in the episode, she is more feared than adored so maybe that's why? But Monet honey, fear can also have a following, just . . a different one.

And then there's Luna La, "The stylist" while we don't know much about her, some of her one liners are actively giving me life. Her and Monet are definitely a package deal and i wonder if there is juicier gossip there that we don't know yet.

Lastly, we have our new Gossip Girl. Young teacher, Kate Keller. I won't lie, i did not see us knowing who GG is from the get go. I am however wondering whether this will drag her down to the level of highschoolers (besides the fact that she looks younger than some of them xD) Something that is bothering me in the reboot however, is that technically, characters that represent adults, spying on minors??? Like they even make the point that "i shouldn't have these, i should be in jail" in regards to having almost naked pictures of the kids. Like it's not really okay??? In the original yea no one knew who GG was but they always knew it was someone their age. The teachers didn't care at those times. But they do now and I am not fully sure how okay it is.

And of course, the extras like some of the other teachers behind GG and the parents. We however, don't know too much about them as of now so we shall see soon. If any new characters are introduced they will be addressed but for now, onto the episode!

The half sisters plot is definitely interesting so I would love to know where the whole middle names thing will go. The story line I'm most interested in at the moment however is between Audrey, Max and Aki. I want to see that unwind into something horrendous but then beautiful! It has so much potential in my opinion. In terms of character development however i want to see who Julien is without all of her fame and followers. When the focus is not the media and the attention. I want to see that Julien.

The first episode definitely introduced us to a lot of things at once so far that is my take on them. I'm sure that in the future both the teachers and parents will be a bigger part but one thing is abundantly clear. Unlike the OGGG, there won't be more than maybe 2-3 seasons depending on the ages of the students. The teachers won't follow them onto college will they? Or will things drastically change along the way? It was rather amusing seeing them talk about all the old characters however, and reference the OG Gossip Girl. I am vaguely offended that they categorised twitter as "a glorified chatroom for memes for people over 30". Like dude. . . that hit me hard. I am happy that FB was never even mentioned as existing tho! Cause let's be honest that is not the "hip" thing anymore. But the rules they put down at the party definitely made my head spin. Had to listen to them twice to even get what was happening.

But that's probably enough of me babbling on about this xD If you want to find this on an apparently dying type of media, here's my blog post about it as well lol: https://acloudkat.wordpress.com/?p=960

[munsonsduchess]

So, I re-watched The Old Guard, again. Just like my Mag 7 re-watch I made some notes, six pages of them to be exact which is why I’m gonna drop them under the cut so I don’t clutter up anyone’s dash with my mildest of observations and all my feelings for a sad alcoholic Frenchman. 

I love how we’re introduced to everyone, Andy walking alone through Marrakesh and Booker speeding through the narrow streets on his bike. Are we supposed to think they’re strangers or do they know each other

Bookers little smile when he catches up to Andy like he’s so happy to see her again and Andy’s face lighting up to see him again too

Andy spent a fortune on a book because she knew Booker would like it. “First edition Don Quixote, that wouldn’t come cheap” “it didn’t”

“What brings you to Marrakech?” // “Family'' leave me alone I’m already sobbing

Andy honey they’ll still be able to see that picture in deleted photos but you tried and that’s what matters

Nicky and Joe!

Nicky is so happy to see Andy. That little smile. It’s adorable

“You look good” “you look ok” gentle family teasing is the best ok

“Boss”

It’s been a year since they saw one and other and they just love each other so much. No one touch me.

Nicky and Booker betting on the baklava and Joe just sitting there like “let him lose his money it’s fine, he won’t learn and it’s funny”

Everyone teasing Nicky for loosing and he’s just stood there like “no it’s fine ”

These are the best people for the job and Copley knows it and doesn’t care how much it will cost him. He has faith

Copley knowing Nicky is there and the little wave

Andy taking her axe with her. I love that axe

Just a group of immortals walking through the desert with swords and guns nothing to see here

“Peace be with you” those catholic teachings never quite leave

“It’s a trap!”

That has got to hurt. Those guys emptied full clips into them. Like I get the need to do a job and do it well but come on guys that’s overkill

This is what women want. Andy and her axe

Nicky still having faith there are girls

The picture on Copley’s desk. Like if you knew why did you have to go through this bullshit?

Andy has lived too long and seen too much

Like I know now that Booker knew what was happening or maybe he didn’t know the extent of it but him saying sorry did feel genuine

Andy is just all kinds of done. She didn’t want to do the job in the first place

Nile proving that yes you can be in a strange place and you can serve your country but you don’t have to be a dick about it

“Keep it respectful”

She made an effort to learn the language and learn the customs which goes a long way to establish trust

How traumatic must this have been for Nile? She always knew there was a possibility of being injured in combat or worse never coming home but to be injured so fatally and have your friend hold your life in their hands only to come back and be rejected because you’re an anomaly. A freak

Goes a long way to explain Booker’s feelings too

Nicky and Joe sleeping in the train car is something that is obviously so normal for couples and goes such a long way to show people how ‘normal’ queer people are

“What did you see?” “Part of a name tag” thanks Booker that’s helpful

“I felt her die”

“Everything happens for a reason boss”

Booker didn’t want to go after Nile. He didn’t want her involved

Nicky pushing for them to go after Nile. The emotional centre of the group, appealing to their own experiences and feelings from their first times

Andy is not happy and I can understand how she feels. Given their current situation bringing an unknown element into the mix is only going to complicate everything

“I know I saw her die”

No scarring. Nothing to suggest that anything happened to Nile

The seeds of doubt already growing amongst Nike’s friends and allies

Merrick looks like he should have been a doctor who villain who got his shit kicked in by Donna

Copley you asshole what did you think was gonna happen? They were just gonna get clips emptied into their bodies and let the mercs walk away? Use your big boy brain

Nile trying to come to terms with what happened to her. Everyone around her looking at her with suspicion. Even her Sargent who’s sending her away from more tests

The hostility in the barracks. The fact that her things are already packed.

Everyone knows what happened. Nile has never been more alone just like Nicky said

Trying to drown out the noise of the world and decompress and understand what happened“

But you can call me Andy”

Just casually steals a military transport. Nbd

MA’AM PLEASE I AM ALREADY GAY. Riding around in a tank top and shades like that is not helping

“These damn kids” 

Zero hesitation in shooting Nile. This is a woman who has run out of every kind of fuck

“Why does it always have to be so goddamn slow the first couple of times?”

“You shot me” “yes honey now back in the car

”Andy might think she’s cold and heartless and only here to do a job but you can see how much she already cares about what happens to Nile

Soldiers. Fighters. Family

You know what I’m really glad they didn’t make Andy’s tank top skin tight or moulded to show off her body. That isn’t how she rolls

Andy is so proud that Nile stabbed her. Look at that smile

!Nile already having the makings of a plan within minutes of stepping onto the plane

Andy just like “god isn’t real, I’m real though and people thought I was god”

I wonder how many nights the group sat up until the wee hours discussing things like theology. Andy who was worshiped as a god. Nicky and Joe who fought in a holy war for their beliefs and Booker who probably had his own feelings on the subject 

Andy being so chill about the crash. The best poker face

It was a good try Nile and look Andy is proud of you!

The smile on Andy’s face when she’s fighting with Nile gives me so much serotonin

Soft Andy. Who had to be tough to teach a lesson

Poor Nile. Coming to terms with what she is and the fact that she might never see her family again

Family dinner time!

Awkward family dinner time

Nicky and Joe staring at each each other with their puppy dog eyes “we’re meant to find each other”

Then Booker and Andy like “misery loves company”

Everyone’s just like “awh Nicky and Joe are so cute”

Andy reliving the people she’s fought with and lost

Booker knows just how much ‘help’ talking to ones family about the situation is

Booker do not put your finger on the trigger of your gun when it’s still in your trousers! You might be immortal but that’s gonna hurt a lot more

Oh no. Quynh.

Andy’s face. I can’t

Joe in tears telling the story“

Before me and Nicky it was just the two of them”

Booker knowing exactly how it feels to hang there for hours and not die or dying and coming back time and time again. Knowing how Quynh and Andy must have felt

I cannot imagine what it must have been like for Andy. To be with someone for so long. The only other person who understands you. To be ripped apart like that

“Why do you blame yourself” that’s not a nice question to ask people

The big emotional talk with Andy and Nile in the churchyard being interrupted by the gunfire

Andy being so afraid Booker wouldn’t come back and delegating to Nile who just accepts her orders

“Welcome back asshole” / “it feels like someone was dancing on my chest”

The banter

Nicky being banished to the table in the corner after 2006 is my favourite headcanon

“Wait for my signal” Andy is more pissed than ever at the people coming after her family

“Big wounds take longer to heal” Nile as a millennial presses x to doubt

The sheer emotion in Andy’s eyes as she fights. The tears. She’s doing this for her family.

Will I ever stop harping on about found family in this show? No I will not“

How can you even tell what the signal is?” One explosion later “oh wait nvm”

The wound on Andy’s shoulder probably doesn’t even feel like anything with the amount of adrenaline

The van. These two“

What is he your boyfriend?” Stanzas of Arabic poetry later, “he’s not my boyfriend he’s all and he’s more”

Nicky and Joe Horny on Main all day every day

These cocky little shits “can you remove the chains? no? ok”“

There’s a TV Joe!” “Champagne?” it’s not a field trip boys

“I used to keep my stuff here” in an abandoned mine she found in the 1150s or that’s when she thinks she found it

Nile being amazed by Andy’s ‘stuff’

Booker meanwhile makes a joke at the expense of his sister

Merrick really should have been a doctor who villain honestly. The grand gesturing the weird mood swings. He could have been great in a two part episode and then had to reckon with Donna

Donna Noble is my favourite companion don’t @ me

Copley beginning to have second thoughts on everything

Andy realising only now that she hasn’t healed from the fight in the church“

Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting” I have a lot of Booker feelings ok“

I thought you were the brains of this outfit” oh honey no

Bookers family. Oh no.

No but really how hard must it have been for Booker. To know that his son, his baby was suffering from cancer such an awful disease all the whole cursing his father for being selfish, uncaring, cursing Booker and Booker can’t do anything about it. He’s immortal, he heals, disease will never ravage his body, but he can’t share it with his son. He can only sit and watch as death claims everyone he’s ever loved. Living with the fact that his family despised him at the end of their lives because they didn’t understand that his immortality is a curse.

I have a lot of Booker feels don’t @ me

The pharmacy girl though. Helping just because she could

Reaffirming the reason why Andy started to help people in the first place

A selfless act. A purely good deed. Nothing expected in return. An unselfish act

Andy’s wound and Lykon’s death causing Andy to come to terms with her own mortality

Merrick “prosperity data” and Copley “I’m sorry those are people not objects”

Nicky is not here for your bullshit

Malta Sex Vacation ™

HORNY JAIL

Family bonding time with Nile and Andy

Andy “whatever it takes” and Nile “not on my watch”

So what I want to know is obviously Booker was in on it from the beginning but did actively derail Andy looking into Copley after Joe and Nicky were taken or was he just genuinely having a hard time

Nile prioritising her flesh and blood family and Andy totally understanding because she’s doing this for family too“

You and me Book. Now and always” my heart can’t cope

Nile finding the empty clip. Realising what’s about to happen and going back for her new family because as much as she loves her flesh and blood family this one matters to her as well

Meanwhile Copley I guess got a tip off from Booker (?) and knew this was all going down

The conspiracy wall

Booker you bastard why did you shoot her in the back?

I love this man but god damn

Booker wanting to be ‘normal’ because the memory of being rejected is still so raw

Suicidal tendencies in a 200 year old man

They’re both so upset by the whole thing. The betrayal

Book loves this woman with all his heart and soul. This is the woman who saved him and now she isn’t healing. She’s dying

Booker putting up so much of a fight so they wouldn’t take Andy

“I’m sorry Andy I’m sorry”

You might disagree with me but in my mind Booker never meant to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be a lab rat. Didn’t want anyone else to be a lab rat. He just wanted to be ‘normal’“

All things die”

“Your time is coming” // “As is yours” Nicky is gonna fuck someone up

“I’m new” says Nile after shooting herself in the foot to make a point

Copley’s conspiracy wall or his fanboy wall for all the good Andy, Booker, Joe and Nicky have done

Copley’s grief at losing his wife being the driving factor for handing the group over to Merrick is tragic and heart breaking and just goes to show how much of a human story this really is

Nile said no guns Copley

Nile is here to save her family

“Those three men in there and I we’ll keep you safe” // Nile coming in guns blazing for them instead

Joe is going to kill Booker himself

“You and Nicky always had each other. All we had was our grief”

Everyone being so surprised to see Nile like “what the fuck?”“

Just leave me here” // “No man left behind”

Meanwhile Joe is fine with just leaving Booker right there to be the last lab rat

The groups concern for Andy who’s always been so strong

The concern. The subtle little head nods Andy does to let them know she’s ok

Andy spies an axe

Joe being so concerned for Nicky and making sure he comes back ok

Nicky immediately scrambling to his feet to go and help Andy

“What happened in 1934?” // “1834”

“Wait for the signal” “like the last one?” “Go big or go home!”

Arguing over who goes first and Andy just “if it doesn’t work our next time you can go first”

And there’s your signal

“You shot Nicky” Joe is not messing around when it comes to his other half“

You ok?” // “Everything hurts”

Andy has been immortal for so long she’s lost all sense of feeling human. Then Nile shows up to do just that. Remind her

Merrick calling Nile selfish like I’m sorry you entitled little shit what did you say“

Do you think he speaks Russian?”

YEET!

That one must have hurt

Nicky and Joe just like “wow the new girl is hardcore”

“Faster than the elevator”

Gotta save Andy’s axe

Nicky sits in the middle which is the actual worst place to sit in a car

Do you think they al rocked up to a hotel covered in blood like “don’t ask just give us a room and a shower”

Joe still seething at Booker through the pub window

Nile having to live with the fact that her family will never know what really happened to her. That they’ll all think she was KIA and whatever body they send back won’t be hers

The 100 year naughty step

I love that Nile was gonna let Booker off with an apology like “he didn’t mean it he’s just a sad alcoholic”

Nobody look at me. Ok. Andy and Booker saying goodbye on the shore. I can’t. This is it. This is the scene that breaks me

“I won’t see you again” // “Have a little faith Book”

Joe really wants to hit Booker. Probably did in the interim

The big picture“

Maybe this is the why Andy”

Andy laying down the law and Joe in the background like “yeah this isn’t a request”

Meanwhile in Paris. Booker is tired and just wants a drink

I am a fan of the scruff though

If that’s water Quynh definitely brought it in herself for The Drama ™

QUYNH THOUGH

[jeawrites]

if you're still doing requests could you do 28 with hh and mm?

((Sorry for the wait anon!))

28. Jail Break

hh. “I just wanted to-” “You’ve done enough.”

mm. “I thought I was going to lose you!” 

Jon didn’t know what was wrong with him.

He paced the cell, slouching some to keep his back from hurting, eyes scanning the room before looking to the metal door. He winced at the sight of it. Who knew what they had planned for him out there, he heard a few guards talking earlier about an interrogation room and a few others making jokes about torture.

He shivered and retreated to a table that they had set up in the room. It was nicer than other cells he’s been in, he’d admit that much. But, he is much higher ranking in gang terms than he used to be.

He sat down in a chair and let his head rest against the cold wood of the table, sighing  softly as he fiddled with his hands. He was beyond stupid to have even gotten caught. But, today was just a bad day in general and Jon was such a fuck up. 

Of course his team had a right to be angry with him- he wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t even show up to get him out. Especially Evan. He cringed a bit at that thought. Evan would probably kill him if he could- and he very well could.

How did he even manage to get his best friend’s- ex-best friend’s?- bad side?

Rethink the day, he decided.

It started with the morning planning session.

“So we’ll sneak in through the back and arrive at a room to steal their weapons supply,” Tyler explained, gesturing at the layout they had on a table. “That’s also why we need Brian to stay behind so he can keep the security systems disabled. Jon, you got the info for the systems, right?”

Jon nodded and grabbed a bag he kept by him, scanning through it before pulling out a file. “Right here,” he stated, opening it up and then pausing.

“Jon?” Tyler asked.

“I…” his brows furrowed and then his breath hitched in panic. “This- this is the wrong file!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh no- I’m sorry,” he looked up to see Tyler had gained an irritated look. He shrunk into his spot and then looked back into his bag. “I swear I grabbed the right one! I checked- checked it!”

He hated the looks he got, he hated the pressure of them.

“Hey, lay off of him, yeah?” Evan piped up, leaning towards Jon and smiling. “It’s one little mistake. Brian’s smart, I’m sure he can figure out the systems easily.”

Jon perked up, head coming off the table as he smiled. Right! Evan defended him! But… Ugh. He ended up putting that to waste. His head landed back on the table.

They had all gotten to the government building- planning a weapons heist was always exciting, especially when they got to test the things they stole.

Brian did manage to hack the security system without an issue- thank god for that- and they all headed inside excitedly and stealthily. Of course they had to still keep calm and quiet. The team heading in consisted of Jon, Evan, Tyler, and Marcel. The rest were left outside as backup.

Jon was left outside of the room to be their watch. He was supposed to cough if he saw something coming- which might’ve been easy if Jon had an attention span. Instead of watching like a hawk, he was watching like a babysitter who was preoccupied with texting.

Excepting texting was whatever random thing he could find to look at.

He heard a noise and his head perked up, glancing down the hall as he spotted someone move. Out of panic of it being a lone guard, he watched them before they ducked into a room.

He stared for a moment before his feet began to move. He stumbled a bit with his movements but he was quickly turning into the room, eyes darting around the dark area before he relaxed. No one was there. His mind must be cracking under stress, he’s been swearing he’s been being watched lately.

With a sigh he turned to head out of the room only to jump as a siren started going off, a red light flashing bright into the building.

‘Alert! Alert! The building is now going under lock! Please get to your designated emergency positions!’

Jon zoned out the voice and his feet began moving before he could process.

He was pushed out of the way once he was back in the hall, Tyler’s arm in front of him. “Where were you!” he exclaimed.

Jon’s eyes widened and he was grabbed by Marcel and dragged away. He could hear gun shots but he was hardly keeping up.

“Stupid fucking-” Marcel’s voice stammered as he turned a corner, his grip tightening on Jon. “Get to the exit!” he called back.

“What do you think we were doing?” Evan exclaimed from somewhere behind them.

Jon heard more shots and Tyler yelling. Oh- oh! He could help! He wiggled his arm out of Marcel’s grip before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handgun. “Tyler!” he called back.

He slowed down and pointed the gun up. “Take it-” he jumped as the gun went off. “Wha-what-” he watched as Tyler froze and Evan stumbled to a stop.

“Tyler!”

Oh Jon was fucked, he could feel it in his blood as Tyler gripped his shoulder and they all rushed out the exit, slamming the door behind them.

Tyler stumbled some, before he ended up getting caught by Brock and David. “Oh dear,” Brock breathed, “Hurry up to the van- I’ll fix you up back at base,” he promised. “Easy now.”

Evan and Jon watched the two walk off and Jon went to follow. But, he was grabbed by Evan. He could feel him squeezing his wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Evan asked, glaring at him.

Jon looked back, his words caught in his throat. The inside of his mask was soaking with tears he didn’t realize he was even spilling, and he could hardly manage a voice.

“I- I just wanted to-”

“You’ve done enough,” Evan cut him off, voice low. And, it honestly terrified Jon. “Where even were you?” he added, “You were supposed to keep guard! Did you just fuck off to who knowswhere because you felt like it? Like it wasn’t important?”

Jon zoned out again, watching Evan’s mouth move but he couldn’t hear anything but his own thoughts calling him a fuck up. He watched the noirette turn and walk to the van. Everyone was piling in. Everyone but him because he couldn’t move.

He didn’t want to hold them down. He didn’t want them to get into any more trouble.

Their faces shined in his mind as he heard the muffle shouts of his friends and the sound of the door slamming open.

Then he felt the bullets hit and he was down.

He sat back up with a sigh and rubbed his forehead gently. He was frustrated. He got caught but maybe that was a good thing. He can’t screw up much in jail.

A knock sounded at the door and he jumped before watching the slot thing slide open and food come through. He glared slightly, but then relaxed. What was the point of getting mad? It was his own damn fault.

He carefully got up, wincing a little as his back straightened out.

The bullets shot him along his shoulder. They were some special kind of tranquilizer so they barely breached the skin but they left lots of bruises.

His eyes carefully watched the food as he walked towards it, bending to pick it up. He wasn’t expecting something that looked good- but his whole experience right now was something he wasn’t expecting.

He brought it to the table, lips pursed as he placed it down and then crossed his arms. He felt hungry, he did, but the idea of eating didn’t sound great to him at that moment. He just didn’t trust the meal provided.

A familiar image then began to flash, his eyes widening as a red light began to flash in the cell. He froze in place, stepping back. The back of his thigh hit the table and he stumbled. Oh god.

Was this the regret biting him in the ass? Was he going crazy? Was this actually happening? What was happening? He managed to get to the wall before he heard the slot open, his body tensing as he looked at it and saw a pair of eyes looking back.

“Here!”

The eyes disappeared and the door shook until it slammed open. Even came hurrying into the room, out of breath and he looked like shit but Jon had never been happier and more terrified to see him.

“Oh my god, Jon,” Evan exclaimed, hurrying over and grabbing his face, looking it over before pulling the man into a hug. “I thought- oh dear god,” he breathed, voice shaking as he rested his face in Jon’s shoulder.

Jon slowly hugged him back, confusion settling in his head. “Ev- Evan?” he mumbled.

“We- we saw the guns go off and we watched you get shot and- and- and I thought- I thought- I thought I was going to lose you!” he exclaimed, “I-... I thought I did lose you…” He squeezed him tighter and his shoulders shook.

Jon frowned but squeezed back. “I… I thought you were mad at me,” he mumbled.

Evan pulled back, giving him a glare as tears leaked through his eyes. “I was pissed at you, yeah! But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t miss you dumbass!” He leaned forward and pressed a hand to his cheek, knocking their foreheads together before pulling back. “Now come on! Brian and Scotty are holding back the cops but I don’t know how much longer they’ll last!” he grabbed his hand and pulled him along in a rush.

Jon watched, eyes widened as his feet followed. So much was happening and so fast he could hardly process, but he felt the kind squeeze of his hand that Evan brought and he couldn’t help but keep up, running with him.

He might be a fuck up sometimes, but he was beyond happy to know no matter that, Evan would be there for him.

[littledata]

Kara first becomes aware that Lena has a legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life when she gets home to find “Stay away from Lena Luthor” spray-painted on her apartment door. Her first thought is the culprit must be Lex Luthor, but spray paint seems a little inelegant for him, and besides, it’s just a bit too coincidental that the crime occurs the day after she shared dinner, drinks and a foot-pop inducing first kiss with the CEO of L-Corp. She rather doubts Lex found out about that from inside his supermax prison cell.

“I might have an idea who’s behind it.” Lena says sheepishly when she arrives to survey the damage. “I do have these seven evil exes who try to kill anyone I date.” When Kara suggests that this was perhaps something she should have mentioned after the aforementioned dinner, drinks, and earth-shattering kiss, Lena holds up her hands defensively. “I assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. I mean, you are a superhero.”

There’s just one issue with that superhero plan though, as Alex points out when she shows up to take a look at Kara’s vandalised door. The legion of seven evil exes who are now hellbent on destroying Kara’s life only think Lena is dating Kara Danvers, not Supergirl. So when they show up to fight her she can’t actually punch them into space without revealing her secret identity. She either deals with this problem as Kara Danvers or outs herself to a group of heartbroken supervillains.

So what does Kara Danvers do when she’s confronted with a legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life? She makes friends with them. Obviously.

1. Michael. Lena dated Michael for three weeks when she was fifteen because he had an earring and rode a motorbike. She was in the midst of a rebellious phase where she was trying her damndest to piss off her mother, and it worked until Michael suggested she drop out of high school to tour the country with his band. Even aged fifteen, Lena Luthor was nobody’s groupie. In the intervening years, he had racked up a couple of minor felonies (he was responsible for the spray paint) and was now playing bass in a Nickelback cover band. Kara agrees to hand out flyers for their next gig, and he tells her that she’s “totally kick-ass” like he’s from a 90s teen movie, then agrees he won’t try to murder her. She has to stand on a street corner in the cold for three hours, but it’s worth it when Lena shows up with hot cocoa, plants a warm kiss on her freezing nose, and tells her she looks cute in her scarf.

2. Madison. Kara first becomes aware of Madison when she is pelted with soccer balls by a small herd of children out of the windows of a mini-van. After she makes her escape, she forces an embarrassed Lena to explain that Madison was part of her first experimental steps into sleeping with women. They had hooked up once in their freshman year of college before Madison met a man, settled down and had four kids in quick succession. Kara has to find out for herself, buried somewhere in the depths of Madison’s mommy blog, that Lena had ruined her sex life with her future husband forever by giving her the only orgasm she would ever have.  Kara ignores her friends’ rather lewd suggestions of how she could get in her good books, and instead stays up all night baking cookies and brings them to Madison’s PTA fundraiser. She arrives home that night to Lena brandishing three large pizzas and a lewd suggestion of her own.

3. Prisha. Kara knows all about Prisha. She’s beautiful and intelligent and perfect, she’s a hot-shot prosecutor and she has a blackbelt in Judo and Kara hates her guts. Lena only ever references her vaguely, but Kara does manage to get out of her that Lena was eyeing up engagement rings before she found out Prisha was cheating on her, and after that Kara just hates her even more. She’s actually determined not to befriend this particular ex until she receives a court summons for an unpaid parking ticket. Kara Danvers has never parked illegally in her life. She offers Prisha Supergirl’s number so that she can get in a few sparring sessions to train against someone really tough (under the influence of kryptonite, of course), and that means she gets to make friends with her and punch her in the face. “You do know you’re the only person I care about dating right now, don’t you?” Lena asks her later with a teasing smile, and Kara feels a little bit guilty about the whole punching thing.

4. Simon. Lena broke up with Simon after he stole some of her PHD research, published it under his own name and used the resulting exposure to start a multi-billion dollar tech company. He still frequently appears in the news for the human rights violations in his company warehouses. He sends a delivery driver to do his dirty work for him, who hands Kara an exploding pen when he asks her to sign for her package. Admittedly, this might have actually worked if she wasn’t an alien, and Kara isn’t exactly thrilled by the thought of attempting to make nice with Simon. She is excellent at gift-giving though and finally hits on what every Silicon Valley tech bro really wants: she talks Winn into hacking his social media pages and making his twitter advertising campaign go viral. She tells Lena she’s starting to worry about just how bad she is at picking her relationships, and Lena points out that her current girlfriend is pretty great. It’s the first time she’s said it, and Kara melts.

5. Jensen. Jensen was Lena’s final attempt at pleasing her parents and dating men, back around the time of the whole Lex-Luthor-tries-to-kill-Superman fiasco. It seemed like it would make Thanksgiving a little less awkward, Lena explains, and Kara supposes she can’t argue with that logic. Their relationship might have even worked out if both of them hadn’t been very, very gay, and although they parted on amicable enough terms, that doesn’t stop Jensen from trying to poison Kara with tainted cupcakes from the bakery he owns. The cupcakes are really good though, if you ignore the arsenic, so once Kara finds out he owns a bakery she becomes one of his best customers, and inside of a month she and Jensen are regularly meeting up for coffee. He’s not really evil, just kind of dramatic, and Lena pouts adorably when Kara teases that she could say the same thing about her.

6. Rosa. Kara finds out about Rosa when she receives a call from the National City jail warning her away from Lena. Lena looks faintly embarrassed when she admits that she dated Rosa for a couple of months until she realised the other woman was stealing from her apartment and attempting to milk every penny she could out of her. Which, yeah, Kara supposes you’re at risk of that when you’re an incredibly attractive, single billionaire, but Lena seems to think she should have known something was amiss in advance. Apparently, Rosa is very well connected in the organised crime world though, because she definitely recognises the goons who jump her and Alex outside of her apartment building as being from a local mob family. Said goons didn’t exactly expect to be contending with an over-protective Danvers sister though, and they’re seen off very quickly. Alex is less than impressed when Kara starts up a penpal friendship with Rosa, despite her little sister’s insistence that Rosa was mostly blackmailed into most of her crimes by her underworld family members. Lena, who perhaps understands a problematic family more than many people, sighs and says, “Well, you forgive people. That’s what makes you Kara.”

7. Clara. Kara has absolutely no idea what Lena saw in Clara. She’s nothing like any of Lena’s other exes, doesn’t even have much in common with her, and it isn’t until Alex has tears of laughter running down her face that she kind of sees it. Clara has long blonde hair, blues eyes, glasses, favours button-ups and - oh okay fine, she’s a dead ringer for Kara. She does an excellent imitation of Kara on the phone and attempts to break up with Lena, but gives herself away when she mentions eating a salad for lunch. Kara gets in touch with a talent agency she knows through CatCo and helps Clara get a steady gig as a Supergirl lookalike. When she asks Lena what she was thinking when she slept with her, Lena gives a small shrug. “I was head over heels in love with my best friend but not quite ready to admit it yet.” 

“Am I in danger of becoming evil if you ever break up with me?” Kara asks once the legion of seven evil exes hellbent on destroying her life have all been successfully befriended and neutralised. She expects Lena to make a joke about Supergirl never turning evil, but Lena just gives her a curious look instead.

“What makes you think I’m ever going to break up with you?”

[lonbergwrites]

The Gross, The Bad, and The Unforgivable

A review of Undercover Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

 Let me start off by saying that this book has an instance of what clearly seems like sexual assault, wrapped up in a gloss of romance. Skip down to the “The Unforgivable” section for that information.

----

Normally, I don’t rate and review any books that I read for fear of poisoning the memory well. Normally, I wouldn’t rate and review a romance novel in particular, because it isn’t a genre with which I have much experience, nor is it one I have much love for. But the title and the fact that it showed up on a list of good romance novels for men from a source I trust made me pick it up in the first place. I’ve been trying to get deeper into the Writing Community online, and so many writers there are romance authors – and romance is such a popular genre generally – that I wanted to familiarize myself with the genre as I work on my own writing...

I’m making an exception to rating and reviewing this book because there were some truly, deeply problematic things going on here, on top of the bad/schlocky writing, and the gross descriptions so prevalent in my mind’s limited knowledge of what’s bad in the romance genre. So, in the following review I’m going to justify my one star rating of this book by describing The Gross [broadly, the terribly stomach-turning descriptions, characters, and plot points in this book], The Bad [the technical problems – especially in the plot], and The Unforgivable [the glossed-over sexual assault].

----

The Gross:

I’m going to jump right in on the most obvious issue I have with (my own idea of) romance novels: the sex scenes. But this isn’t going to be what you think it is; I am not a prude. Nothing turns my stomach faster than euphemistic language about body parts. “Her sex” is bad enough. This book also talked about running his fingers along “her slit.” But the description that almost made me hurl was “her pink bits.” Nope. Vomit. Say vulva. There is nothing gross about that word. A good sex scene is hard to write, and you don’t need to go full-on erotica (though honestly, I think hardcore erotica is far more enjoyable to read, more real, and sexier than the euphemistic stuff), but why have a very descriptive scene only to censor over the words everybody is paying their good money to read? Pick a lane. Give me actual adult sexual content, or have everything fade to black. Please?

I looked at a bunch of the reviews of this book, astounded as I was that it was so highly rated. Where language was used as a fault, the line “my vagina senses are tingling” was often cited. Cited as gross and crass. Sorry, this was a line I found truly funny and endearing, used as it was by a female character who was grossed out by the villain of the story, a serial sexual predator. To me, it was a great Spiderman reference, and an honest thing for a woman to say. I’ve heard such comments from female friends before. Seeing this comment from the romance reading community really saddens me, because not liking an honest use of body parts, but championing “pink parts” is only fueling the female body shaming that is so prevalent in our society.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a happy ever after to start” is the line that ends the bulk of the novel, before the epilogue. Once you’ve scraped the vomit out of your mouth, there’s also the ending of the epilogue, where after the main character “proposes” off-handedly on the couch, they have sex, and then he asks her if that was a yes, and she confirms it, the narration says, “after she said yes he did things that made her say it a whole bunch of times naked.” Then they fist-bumped. End of novel. Yeah… Did I mention they’d only known each other for a little more than six months at this point? Yea, I think that’s kind of fast…

But romance novels are stereotypically bad in this department according to me, who knows little to nothing about them. What other gross stuff happened in this book? Let’s start with the male lead, Mack, who winks at everything in a skirt. There are paragraphs where he literally winks at the woman he’s talking to three times within said paragraph. She’s always super charmed. This is supposed to be endearing behavior. Then there are a whole chapter where the sex the characters are having is compared to the national anthem – wanting to sing it, wanting to wave a flag, saluting this with that appendage. Barf barf barf.

I could go on, but this book isn’t for me, really. I’ll just close with a line I really did like from the book: “Smells like a camel exhibit in here.” This line is said by the bros when they come in to rescue Mack from his depression on losing the girl, and they find him in squalor. This book could broadly be described as smelling like a camel exhibit.

 The Bad:

The biggest plot error I found in this book happened near the end. A group of the team is running to meet the “inside guy” who will distribute the dossier on the villain to the press as they march in to his book launch. They get there to find their inside guy knocked out, and another security guy holding the dossiers they were literally carrying to the meeting (he knocked him out to take them away, even though he didn’t know what was in them – not to mention that they weren’t actually there in the first place). Terrible editing!

There are other things – characters switching their mind on something deeply held from paragraph to paragraph, a convoluted plan to expose the sexual predator at his own event, and thinking that’s the only way to take the guy down, when in real life a reporter will take information at any time, not just when tricked into it. But it is the real lack of understanding of the human character that really bugged me.

The secret that Mack is carrying with him is that his father was abusive and murdered somebody, and is in jail. Mack changed his name out of embarrassment, and lies and tells people his father is dead. He is made into the villain towards the end of the book, because he “lied” to Liv, his love interest, about this. They had known each other for some time longer than a week and shorter than a month. They were not dating (she was adamant about that), and had slept together just twice. But he was a liar now, because he had a “secret identity” and lied about his father. People just accepted that that was a terrible thing to do. No! If that’s your past, it is yours, and you don’t owe that information to anybody that early in a relationship. Sure, you need to own up to it before you talk marriage, but not before you’ve started dating. This doesn’t have anything to do with his character, but his father’s. Shaming him for “not being honest” and having him have to come to terms with it, and be open about it publically, is just *not* something that he has to do. Weird morality here. I know it was stretched to add drama, but I think it does a disservice to his great trauma in life.

I don’t believe a group of people should take matters into their own hands to investigate a person on sexual harassment on behalf of other women. I don’t think they need to use their friend’s van (literally an FBI-style surveillance van that nobody seems to think it is weird that a friend just has – a van that never plays an important role except that it doesn’t drive fast). I also don’t think a former cop is going to play along in a game of entrapment with a bunch of youngsters out for the thrill of taking down a celebrity chef. I especially don’t think people are going to trust the “inside guy” who is the security guard for the big bad. There is absolutely nothing that any characters do (aside from taping the bad guy) that moves the plot forward. It is all them falling into luck or information that others provide. Everything happens to them. This is just not the makings of a well-written book.

The characters were also so bland and uniform, with the exception of “The Russian” who was all caricature and comic relief, and whose lactose intolerance goes into play when they almost got caught because of the smell of his fart while they were hiding. Hilarious? No. So juvenile. And also, it was from vegan cheese, which the author says “is still cheese” and thus causes him the same problem as cheese. Speaking as a chef, that’s not how lactose intolerance works.

And, can I quickly gripe about the fact that the tech whiz who can break into a computer in 2 minutes, take out the contents of said computer in 30 seconds, breaks down all the banking info in an hour to tie the sexual predator to dozens of victims financially, also says he will be unable to edit a video (literally cut it off at all), in the hour they have during a drive, so by showing the big bad to be the big bad, they will also expose Mack’s terrible history and show him too to be a liar? Remember, this is literally exposing that his dad was a bad guy… again, not seeing the problem for Mack (as if that would kill his reputation)… but also: press stop on the tape? In an hour I, a complete novice, could learn to edit video enough to be able to stop a video when I wanted it to stop. The drama was unnecessary, and the mechanism to achieve it is so utterly stupid.

I also don’t love the fact that it takes a group of men to save women who were the victims of sexual assault. I also don’t love the message that women have to be a certain way when it comes to coming forward (even though they try to say otherwise, it was very moralistic against anybody being quiet). I very much don’t love the fact that they called the sexual predator – who honestly had unwanted, forced sexual relations with many women – a mere “sexual harasser.”

 The Unforgiveable:

Let’s talk about consent. The second time the main characters have sex, Liv expressly says ‘hey, I haven’t given you consent to have sex again.’ He then says that fingering her isn’t sex. Then proceeds to finger her. Then grabs her, carries her to a bed insider her own house, and then has sex with her. Without actually obtaining consent. This isn’t even an instance of tacit consent, because both parties are acting in a certain way and advancing the same act. She literally denied him consent by saying he didn’t have it, and that was never cleared up. Even if she never said no again, that’s pretty terrible for him to just assume.

Also: this happened immediately after he just shows up at her house. They had had sex once. She said she’d call after 3 days. He comes over after two, not calling specifically because he said that she’d have probably said no to his coming over. It was dark, she thought he was an intruder. She hit him with a shoe. She has to apologize to him for hitting him, and clean him up. Hey. In my mind, this dude is a psycho at this point. If you don’t buy into the 3 days before a call, fine. But then you pick up the phone. Don’t just show up at a near-stranger’s house. Don’t do it at night. Don’t sneak up the stairs. And don’t get mad when she’d mad because you acted like a psycho. And then most certainly, listen to her when she says that you don’t have consent to have sex with her again, and go on fingering her immediately thereafter.

 This book is bad on a lot of levels, but the sexual assault scene tarted up to look romantic just made me seethe inside, especially because this whole book attempted to be a “bros don’t let bros sexually assault women” morality tale.

Rating: 1 very dim star of 5

[losersclubbitches]

Panic Attack

@billiesbatsons, here you go!

It was three years ago. He should have been over it by now. He should have been over it by now. He was fifteen. He was fifteen. He was fifteen for goodness sakes and he couldn’t let go of what had happened three years ago.

***

“Come on, you guys! We’re gonna be late!” Rosa called up the stairs.

“I don’t see how we can be late to the mall,” Freddy remarked as he made his way down the stairs. “I mean, it’s a mall.”

“Freddy, mi amor, we’ve been over this. It takes all day for us to shop in the mall. I’m just planning ahead,” Rosa explained as her middle son pulled on his jacket and coat.

“Right. We’re slow and they’ll kick us out of the mall and we’ll never have new clothes. Got it,” Freddy commented, tugging on his shoes. Rosa just chuckled and rolled her eyes fondly. Eventually, the whole family was in the van and heading to the mall. Once they arrived, they headed straight to a clothing store and looked around.

“Hey, Billy. What about this?” Freddy suggested, holding up a SHAZAM! shirt. Billy snorted and then regained his composure.

“That’s more your style,” he replied. “I’d prefer this.” He picked a random shirt from the rack next to him.

“My Little Pony?” Freddy teased, snorting out a laugh. He doubled over and Billy had to laugh with him.

“Nice shirt. Very you, Billy,” Mary remarked as she passed. All three laughed again.

“But seriously, you think I should get this or is it too self-advertising?” Freddy asked when their laughter subsided.

“I think you should get it if you want it. It’d look good on you,” Billy replied. “And no one knows we’re them, so why not?” He shrugged and Freddy beamed, putting the shirt in his “try on” basket. He went to find a dressing room and Billy looked through some shirts he would actually wear. He found some flannels: red, blue, and black, and some matching shirts to go under them. He also grabbed some new jeans as his were getting a bit worn out. He found sizes that he knew would fit and put them in the family's "buy" basket.

“You’re not gonna try those on first, Billy?” Rosa asked, walking over.

“They should fit,” Billy told her.

"Why don’t you try them on just to be sure,” Rosa suggested. Billy nodded and made his way to the dressing rooms. The attendant gave Billy a number and led him to an open room. Billy took a deep breath and walked into the dressing room, nudging the door closed behind him. He hung up the clothes he was going to try on and started to pull his own shirt over his head.

I’m gonna get you for that Billy Batson. Just you wait.

Billy startled and ripped his shirt off, tossing it onto the ground. Upon looking in the mirror, he only saw himself. And the scars. All of the scars from mistreatment. Sure, he’d run from 23 homes, but he’d been kicked out of or moved from countless others. He pulled on one of the shirts quickly and then the matching outer shirt and started to pull on the jeans. Something in the mirror caught his eye and he looked at his reflection again. This time, he did see someone else. A face he thought he’d never see again. It was blurry, but he knew who it was. In the mirror, the man wrapped a hand across his shoulder, gripping it tightly and smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

"I told you I was gonna get you for that, Billy Batson." The hand on his shoulder tightened and Billy bit his lip to keep from screaming.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't--

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Billy jumped, hands tugging up the jeans he was previously putting on. He winced and zipped and buttoned them. They sort of fit, but he could tell he’d need a bigger size; he’d been properly nourished since he’d gotten to the Vasquez’s house and he’d gained weight.

“Billy? Are you alright in there, mi amor?” he hears Rosa ask from the other side of the door.

“Y-yeah,” Billy replied. “The pants don’t fit, though. I need a bigger size.”

“Okay. Why don’t you pass them out and I’ll get you a size up, alright?”

“Alright. Thank you.” Billy passed her the pants over the door and listened as she walked away. Once she was gone, Billy pulled the outer shirt off and hung it up on a separate hook and then pulled off the under shirt. When he did, the figure was back. Billy turned, panting heavily, and faced the man.

“Billy, Billy, Billy. Silly Billy Boy. Thought you could get away from me? Guess you’re dumber than everyone thought,” he hissed, coming in closer. Billy breathed out heavy, shaky breaths.

“Please, Silas. I didn’t say anything. Please don’t hurt me,” he begged.

“Hurt you?” Silas scoffed. “Oh no, Billy Batson. I’m not going to hurt you. If I hurt you, they’ll send me back to jail on adult charges. No. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re gonna make it up to me and this time your gonna keep that pretty mouth shut.”

“H-how?” Billy asked, clutching the pants he’d been trying on in front of him. Silas pushed them away, looking at Billy in his underwear, licking his lips slyly. He shoved the boy against the mirror and leaned in to his ear.

“Like this,” Silas growled before smashing his lips into Billy's, gripping the boy's wrists and keeping them pressed against the wall behind him as to avoid resistance.

Billy found himself on the floor of the dressing room, mid-panic attack and unable to breathe properly. Tears streamed down his face and he cried out when someone knocked on the door. He couldn’t hear what the person was saying, only Silas’ words echoing in his brain, bouncing from one side to the other, repeating over and over again: Like this. Like this. Like this. The door opened and Billy yelped, closing his eyes and curling in on himself to avoid what he was sure was coming. Hands gripped his shoulders and he cried out again, sobs wracking his body.

“Billy, mi amor, open your eyes for me, sweetie,” a whispered voice broke through his thoughts and Billy knew the voice and the gentle way of speaking. He opened his eyes slowly, coming to terms with the image in front of him.

“R-Rosa?” The hand on his left shoulder moved up to cup his cheek.

“Yes, mi amor. It’s me. I’m right here,” she assured, smiling that smile that filled Billy’s stomach with a tingly feeling even after all this time. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, still dimly aware that he was still in just his underwear. She wrapped her own arms around his back and whispered soothingly into his ear.

“Please don’t let him hurt me. Please, Rosa,” Billy sobbed into her shoulder, not caring who saw. He just wanted to be safe.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, mi amor. I promise,” Rosa whispered. Billy didn’t know how long they sat there in each other’s embrace, but quite honestly, he didn’t even care. When he pulled back from Rosa’s shoulder, she cupped his face in both hands and wiped away the excess tears with the pads of her thumbs.

“It was three years ago,” Billy started. He wanted the telling to be of his own volition and Rosa never pushed. “I was with a foster family who had another kid with a criminal record. He was nearly eighteen and they said his next offense would have him charged as an adult. I caught him one time in bed with a kid around my age, maybe younger. He made me promise not to tell the parents or else and I didn’t, but I guess they found out, cause they had him on probation while they searched for proof. He thought I did it and one day he cornered me in a dressing room after ditching his female PO. He made me make it up to him by giving him what I’d interrupted with the other kid. I didn’t tell anyone, but I packed my stuff and ran. I don’t know where he is now and it scares me.” He started to cry again and Rosa pulled him to her chest again.

“Oh, Billy, mi corazon. I’m so sorry. I promise Victor and I will do everything to make sure nothing like that happens again. I love you,” she expressed. Billy’s breath hitched. It was the first time someone had ever said that directly to him and truly meant it.

“I.” Billy hesitated, paused. Was it something he really wanted to say? “I love you, too.”

It was.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Sam! You’ve been accepted to play Mason Carmichael. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: Sam, I really enjoyed the way that you described Mason. I feel like you have such a perfect grasp on his character, and I’m dying to see Juliet and Mason interact on the dash! - Admin V

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Mason Carmichael

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

It’s pretty amazing that Mason turned out to be as decent a person as he is. Even he probably wouldn’t venture so far as to say he’s a good person but he’s definitely not bad, not all the way, anyway. Truly bad people are people like his parents who have kids for some unknown reason only to pour all their shit onto them and use them as their personal punching bags. Or at least Mason. He tried to keep that from happening to Juliet as much as possible though he knows he didn’t completely succeed. As much as he told her to ignore everything they said about her, to not believe one awful word of it, it was hard for Mason to take his own advice. He had thirteen years of it before Juliet was born and he had something to keep him going other than a survival instinct and hatred. There was no older sibling to give a shit about Mason so he’s internalized a lot more of his parents’ abuse than Juliet has, or at least he hopes so. She’s better than him in every way and that’s what he wants for her. It doesn’t matter what happens to him, after all, as long as she’s okay. Mason knows she’d disagree with that, vehemently, but he’d just say he’s older and knows better and she has to listen to him because of it. On that note, Mason can be somewhat bossy when it comes to Juliet. Not for little things, necessarily, but big decisions or things he considers important give him a tendency to just railroad over her without letting her have much of a say. It’s partly force of habit, since he’s basically been her only parent worth anything since she was a baby, and partly because he truly believes he knows what’s best for her and that she should know that and trust him on that front. Any real resistance from her about that kind of thing would be met with shock, stubbornness, and eventually anger.

Mason is angry, make no mistake about that. There’s a lot to be angry about after all, given what his childhood was and the last five years in prison. The Costellos did a lot for him in that regard, he knows and very much appreciates that, but it was still prison. Before prison, he’d gotten pretty good at burying the anger or at least hiding it when it wouldn’t have served him. He taught himself how to be well spoken, how to be polite, how to be charming and he’s damned good at all of those things but it’s a sort of veneer, a smoke screen he puts on to hide a lot of the shit going on underneath the surface. Those murky waters contain a lot of rough, ragged edges that scrape together sometimes. It’s harder to hide after half a decade in prison, a little harder to put on the charming, polite coat that he’d had little use for in prison. The other things served him better there, the anger and the willingness to get dirty, to fight. Mason knows his experience could’ve been a lot worse but he didn’t come out completely unscathed or without at least having to adopt a certain skill set.

In terms of romantic relationships, Mason’s had some but they’ve all ended poorly. Mostly it’s because he doesn’t really know how to have a relationship. He kind of thinks he knows what not to do, based on the model of his parents, but otherwise the only real examples he’s had are pop culture. Marcel and Cassandra seemed to be a good model but he wasn’t as close to them or as high up as others so he’d only caught some glimpses of theirs. While he’d like to eventually have some sort of solid relationship, he knows that person would have to be incredibly patient and willing to put up with and work through a lot of his shit with him and as yet he hasn’t found anyone who wanted to or was able to go there with him.

WRITING SAMPLE

Mason lit his cigarette with the flick of his old zippo, holding the flame there for a moment before closing and pocketing it. He’d smoked somewhat casually before getting locked up but he’d really picked it up in jail. It wasn’t like there’d been a lot of other productive habits to have and he figures of all the addictions to have, nicotine wasn’t the worst one. It wasn’t booze, though he had a tendency to over-indulge there, and it wasn’t drugs so he figured he had a leg up on most of the world already. It was a strange idea, that, to think that he, Mason Carmichael, had a leg up on anyone considering where he’d come from.

Puffing on his cigarette, he hunkered further down into his jacket, shoving his hands in his pockets and hoping his contact would meet with him soon. It was amazing to think he still had contacts in the business since he’d been out of it for five years but the big Costello machine kept turning so he’d been able to reach out there. It’d only been a couple months since he’d gotten out and he was sure as hell glad of it and he’d jumped back into work pretty quickly. Juliet didn’t like it but hell, what else was he going to do with his life? At least this way he had money coming in to keep them afloat and he owed them, besides, for everything the family had done for him. This waiting was tough, though, considering it’d been a similar situation that had landed him in jail before, getting left high and dry and the cops showing up instead of who was supposed to. It was making him more than a little paranoid.

The cigarette was almost gone and Mason was starting to get as twitchy as a druggie who needed a fix. If they didn’t show up by the time he’d finished his last puff, he was out of here and rearranging the meeting, nevermind the shipment of drugs in the trunk. Finally, though, a nondescript white van pulled up and the guy he’d been waiting for climbed out. Mason’s shoulders sank down a couple inches and it was business as usual. The transaction was over soon enough and Mason was driving away. In a decent mood now, because of the cigarette and the success of the deal, he pulled out his phone. It was some fancy new iPhone (there were so many generations now, they’d only been at six when he’d got locked up) and dialed Juliet. It only took her a couple of rings to pick up and he smiled when she did.

“Hey, Jules. You free for lunch? My treat.”

[shirtlesssammy]

14x11: Damaged Goods

Then:

So Death kind of throws a wrench in Dean’s whole need for free will thing.

Now:

Ooh, Nick has resurfaced and is torturing demons into finding Abraxas, the demon that killed his family. Or, well he’s looking for the hunter that captured Abraxas. She’s in Hibbing, Minnesota.

Dean, meanwhile, is packing up and heading out to spend some quality time with his car and his Mom.

(I mean, that’s what he thought here, right?)

Sam is busy doing research, but willingly agrees to come along before Dean stops him and says he’s going alone. Then Dean hugs Sam, and while it’s sweet and heartbreaking and everyone seems to really love this moment, I was cringing at how awkward the hug was. Sam is 100% suspicious of his brother, so I believe he also found it awkward. [Natasha: SO awkward]

Sam calls Mary to talk about Dean. She’s more of a “Go ahead, touch the cornballer” kind of mom and isn’t as concerned about Dean’s state of mind. She respects his privacy. Sam lets that slide because his investigation into what Dean took with him reveals some missing books, and despite the lack of call numbers, Sam Winchester has the entire Men of Letters collection cataloged and classified.

On his road trip, Dean stops to check in with Donna. They’re enjoying their mutual love of burgers. Boy, Dean and Donna sure do have a lot in common. They always seem to love the same type of food. Wow. Despite Dean’s many attempts at avoiding the elephant at the picnic table, Donna finally brings up Michael. She hopes that he’ll open up, but Dean only gives her the old Winchester “I’ll make it through” shutdown.

Dean makes it to Donna’s cabin, only to hear gunshots. He’s on instant alert. Lol, it’s just dear ol’ mom shooting pumpkins for target practice.

That’s one way to get rid of the fall bumper crop (in December…). When Mary suggests Sam join them, Dean snaps that he doesn’t want Sam there. Hmm. Dean’s hangry, guys! He’s also a lying liar who lies, telling Mary that he just had a long drive and no food. He asks her to make his favorite meal when he was a small child, “Winchester Surprise.” And we’re gifted with another piece to Dean’s life puzzle. Greasy food is comfort food not because it’s all he’s known, but because it’s something he remembers from his too short of a childhood. Mary agrees and heads out to get groceries --and pie.

Dean heads to Donna’s workshop to begin the project that really brought him to Hibbing. Before he can begin, he’s gotta take a looky-loo at all the pin-ups of half-naked dark haired men. In no way shape or form is the show that JUST showed us how similar Dean and Donna are about food implying that Dean and Donna are similar in other ways too. Also, in no way shape or form is the show highlighting Dean locking something away deep inside himself by having Michael rage inside his head directly after he stared at all the posters of half-naked dark haired men. Dean finds the 8-track player and selects some tunes. And as @prairiedust posts out in this great post, in no way is this show trying to tell us something through Dean’s musical choices.

We’re then gifted with a montage of Dean using power tools while sparks fly around one of the pictures of a dark haired shirtless man. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

For Subtextual Science:

This all truly distracted me from thinking about what Dean is actually building in the workshop.

Mary gets help from Joe, the grocery store attendant. He’s kind of surprised by her food purchases since she only ever buys pumpkins, whisky, and crossword puzzles. EEsh, is everything ok, Mary? [Natasha: Definitely not. My theory is that Bobby took off right away and Mary’s just been holed up alone with her thoughts and pumpkin guts.]

Later, Joe is putting carts away when Nick pulls up in a completely normal, non-scary, or suspicious van and asks where he can find Mary Winchester. Joe acts like he doesn’t know her (Joe, I’m sorry I doubted your trustworthiness two minutes ago.) And Nick, why the hell would a random citizen of Hibbing know who Mary is? Lucky for us, he does know her and alerts the police with a call.

Later that night, Nick is trolling the back roads of Hibbing when Donna passes him, and pulls him over. He’s driving around in a stolen creeper van.

She cuffs him and runs his fingerprints. AND THEN TURNS HER BACK ON HIM. DONNA NO. He manages to slip his cuffs and they tussle. Nick tasers Donna.

Mary returns after dark to find Dean just leaving the workshop. She asks what he’s been up to, but he’s elusive and changes the subject. Dean wants to help Mary make dinner. He then LIES again by saying he’s a terrible cook. Wut? I know, I get it. It’s how Dean tries to connect to people. Mary is not dumb though and is really suspicious about Dean. While Dean is finishing up cooking the meal, she talks with Sam. Despite Mary’s protests, Sam’s on his way to Hibbing.

Dean and Mary get to eating the dish of grease with extra cheese. Dean tells us what he thinks is a super funny story from his childhood, but it’s really just a very sad reminder for Mary that Dean had a shit childhood and John was a shit parent. And I’m over here weeping because Dean hangs onto these memories as a good thing because they’re all he has.

Later when Dean’s asleep, Mary heads into the barn and discovers books of lore and a folded sheet of paper (ostensibly ripped from Dean’s death book). “No no no no no,” Mary says. URG, that can’t be good. When she rushes back to the house, Nick intercepts Mary.

Dean wakes to his ringing phone. It’s Donna! She’s calling to warn him about Nick, who knocked her out, escaped, and is heading back to Mary’s place. Dean rushes outside, only to find Sam there instead. Hey, Sammy!

Nick holds Mary prisoner in his creeper van and Mary, bless her, looks utterly comfortable in that predicament. PLEASE, she’s dealt with much bigger fish. Nick delivers a rambling villain’s address, to which Mary just shakes her head. 

Nick asks her about a demon hunt a while back where she faced Abraxas (who murdered Nick’s family). Mary’s exasperated with Nick’s theatrics, because he could have just asked her about the demon like a normal person. Mary tells him that Abraxas is dead, but Nick calls her out on a lie. So Mary confesses - Abraxas was too strong so she locked him in an Enochian puzzle box. She directs Nick to a self-storage facility nearby. I LOVE that Mary has her own hunter’s lockup. (Perhaps several, even? Oooo. That seems like a Mary thing to do.)

She opens the door (Dean’s birthday is part of the combination - HELP ME I AM SUFFERING EMOTIONS. It ends with “67.”).

Once inside, Mary carefully steps over her shotgun booby trap line. Alas, Nick notices it as well and dismantles it. Nick! Come on, man. She could reuse that trap. 

Nick bashes the lock off a cage and starts opening lockers. He finds:

A head in a jar

A creepy doll/mannequin

A puzzle box

Nick demands that Mary open the box so he can interrogate Abraxas. Mary shows him her anti-possession tattoo. “You didn’t think this through, did you?” Mary asks, sounding every inch the irritated master hunter whose time is being wasted.

Meanwhile, Donna, Dean, and Sam race to find Mary.

Dean lays into Sam about Nick, but Sam defends his actions. Sam could have ended up being Lucifer’s vessel for years so he was treating Nick with due consideration and empathy. Dean tells Sam that he needs to learn when to cut loose the hopeless cases (a.k.a. Dean).

Back at Mary’s lockup, Nick’s kidnapped the security guard, intent on releasing Abraxas into the guard. Mary tries to get the drop on Nick, but she’s still trussed up and Nick kicks her into the fence. Nick tries to unlock the box but finds it impenetrable...to his intellect.

A power drill goes right through, though. Abraxas zooms out and possesses the guard. 

Nick demands to know why Abraxas killed his family. Abraxas promises to tell him, provided that Nick kills Mary. Nick decides to go for the deal when Sam wings Nick’s ear with a well-aimed gunshot. Dean, Sam, and Donna head into the lockup. It looks like their defeat of Nick is a lock until Nick scratches away part of the devil’s trap and frees Abraxas. Once free, Abraxas tells Nick that his family was killed so he could be a potential vessel for Lucifer - but that there isn’t anything inherently special about him. Suck on that, Nick.

Nick kills Abraxas after his villain monologue and starts to turn the blade on the others in the lockup.

Fortunately, Donna’s there to shoot Nick in the leg. Mary knocks him out. DREAM TEAM <3

Later, Donna prepares to take Nick away to jail.

Sam confronts him and apologizes for not being able to help Nick. “It’s not about you. You couldn’t fix me because I didn’t want to be fixed.” Sam’s regrets aren’t about Nick, though. They’re about all the people Nick hurt. Let’s all take a moment to reflect on Nick’s cold-ass murder of the innocent security guard, whom he kidnapped within the past hour.

“You can burn,” Sam tells Nick. HARD AGREE.

Meanwhile, Mary has her own confrontation with Dean about what he’s building in her shed. “We are gonna talk about that,” Mary tells him - and he had better bring Sam into the loop.

Cut to the next morning. Dean explains the box he’s been building to Sam.

This is the first time we get a good look at it, and DEAR LORD it’s a coffin. It’s a Ma’lak box, Dean explains. It’s a heavily warded container strong enough to hold even an archangel. Sam’s shocked to learn that Dean wants to be buried alive. So I am! BUT WAIT, KIDS, THERE’S MORE. Dean intends to pay “a little hush money” to a boat captain and get hauled out to the Pacific and dropped there to suffer forever under the waves. Dean tells Sam in no uncertain terms that he’s losing his hold on Michael. They’re working under a countdown clock. Dean acknowledges that Sam, Cas, and Jack have tried to save him - “And I love you for trying.” Dean tells Sam about his visit from Billie, during which she gave him the instructions for his once-impossible prison. In his determination, the box is the only option - it’s FATE. Ugh, a Winchester - DEAN Winchester - believing in fate. It hurts.

“So you came out here to see Donna - to see Mom on some sick, secret farewell tour? You were gonna leave and you weren’t even gonna tell me?” Sam’s pissed, and who can blame him? Ouch. OUCH.

Dean tells Sam that he couldn’t tell him about the box because Sam’s the only person who could talk him out of his plan. “Alright,” Sam says softly, finally.

And...scene.

Just Shove These Emotional Quotes into an Impenetrable Box:

We don’t hug--  We do but only when it’s literally the end of the world.

Just wondering if you’ve run out of ways to ask me how I’m doing so as to avoid me repayin’ the favor.

Delicious heart attack on a plate, and I would like mine with extra cheese.

You catch a lotta fish with that Arkansas toothpick you got there on the passenger seat?

First name eat, last name me.

Everyone keeps asking how I am… And how I am is I don’t wanna talk about it.

Since when do we cut people loose?

Since when do we believe in fate?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[squidproquoclarice]

For the 20 RDR2 questions can I ask 1,4,7,11, and 16 please?

1. High honor or low honor? Why?High, always.  I admit some of this is that I have a hard time playing outright assholes.  And I do enjoy some of the Antagonize options on people like Dutch and Micah because let’s face it, even good people sometimes can say shitty things when frustrated. But for Arthur, playing generally High honor feels like the appropriate and in-character choice.  The storyline best supports him embracing the goodness in him, the kindness and concern and charity that he wants to express, but feels he can’t due to how it clashes with expectations of being a rough, tough, and sometimes brutally uncaring outlaw thug.  That conflict drives Arthur’s arc, and post-TB, his assertion of being his own man and making his own choices, rather than Dutch’s creation.  If he’s Low honor, that means that the mask of the violent, selfish thug really is all he is, and Dutch has effectively won by destroying anything else in him.  That’s a pretty shallow story with no character growth, and it makes Arthur no different from 5000 other white male protagonists we’ve already experienced who embrace their villainous behavior, ruthlessly hurt people, and make excuses for it. I think the fact that there are High honor only missions in RDR2, and no Low honor only ones, says pretty eloquently which game experience is the more fulfilling.

4. Who is the most misunderstood character?I’m going to say Mary Linton, because I see her take so much shit as a “selfish bitch” who just uses Arthur, etc.  I’ve addressed it before so I’m not gonna repeat the whole meta, but I don’t play that game, and I think it’s misogynistic to so viciously throw her under the bus as some kind of manipulative harpy because she hurt a man’s feelings.  Yeah, and he hurt hers too.  No, it’s not admirable she twists his arm to get him to help her, but I believe that she’s desperate, and she’s ashamed and awkward to ask Arthur, knowing how this makes her look.  It’s appropriate to the times when most women had fuck-all in terms of agency, and had to try to manipulate and influence the men around them with “soft power” to get anything done.  She can’t accept him as he is while he persists on following Dutch, because she knows that’s going to bring disaster into her life.  Eliza seemingly made the same choice.  They hurt and disappoint each other, over and over, because they’re two good people in an unworkable and toxic relationship.  And they both need to grow up enough to realize that.  Painful as her goodbye letter was for Arthur, I actually think that was mature of Mary to say she finally realized that they needed to let him go entirely, and apologizing for starting things up again.  That, and presumably seeing her father really does suck is her own self-assertion, much like Arthur is also growing up and asserting himself against Dutch.

7. Funniest moment?The entirety of “A Quiet Time”, let’s be real.   Multiple Lennies.  Lenny-on-Lenny action in that one room.  Drunk “I’m an Americaaaaaaaan!” fence-hop while running from the lawmen.  YNNEL?  LEMMY? Grate?  Great?  Can-can dancing with Arthur’s super enthusiastic high kicks.  Slap-fighting.  Arthur’s dorkish joy at just letting loose and not having to be Big Scaryboah.  Even that heartbreakingly vulnerable “No one would have me [and marry me]” and how Lenny seems to reassure him right out of it. The whole mission is a riot, starting with Arthur’s snark to Dutch about breaking Micah out of jail, and ending with waking up miles from Valentine and literally walking back to camp in hungover shame.  ;) 

11. Do you believe Jack is John’s son? If not then who do you think it is?The looks and the genetic implications fit.  Abigail says he is, and she would know best who was sharing her bed at the time.  I have no reason to disbelieve her, and John seems to accept that he is Jack’s father.  Honestly, I think he was young, stupid, say paternal responsibilities he wasn’t ready to assume, and he freaked out and pointed out she’d had other lovers not long before and tried to cast doubt on whether this was his child or not.Occam’s Razor.  The evidence points towards it, and aside from stirring up relationship drama, not sure I see much reason to make someone else Jack’s father.  If it absolutely had to be someone else, the eye color genetics prove 100% that it can’t be Arthur, and I’m firmly of the opinion Abigail and Arthur never slept together anyway.

16. If R* were to make a third RDR game, what would you want it to be about and who would you want the protagonist to be?As discussed, I’m not really interested in a RDR2 prequel with the early days of the Van Der Linde gang because there’s no story to tell there that adds much as a game, for Arthur or for the gang.  We know where that train is headed with the gang, and seeing Arthur at 21 when he’s rendered canon-incapable of changing and growing as a character because his Rubicon is still 15 years in the future is really not terribly interesting to me as a story.  It’d be a prequel for a prequel’s sake, not something like RDR2 that had a lot to say.  Also as discussed, I’m not too interested in Jack post-1914 because if he’s got an RDR game, that means he didn’t leave violence and crime and all of it behind after killing Ross.  That feels like a defeat, not something to celebrate as the tentpole of a new narrative.  Again, comes across as a sequel for a sequel’s sake, not because of a compelling story.I want an RDR3 only if there’s a strong story that adds something to the big RDR picture, hopefully broadens the RDR world, and features a character who has a journey ahead of them to match John and Arthur’s rich growth in their respective games.  So if anyone, I’d like to see Sadie post-1907 and her adventures in South America, and her character growth after settling accounts with Micah.  It feels like there’s a lot to be done with her yet.  (And hey, maybe we find Arthur’s alive and in South America too, just saying…)

[svartikotturinn]

Trimming down my OK Cupid profile: the ‘before’ part

My self-summary

אוֹקִ֥יר אֱנ֖וֹשׁ מִפָּ֑ז וְאָדָ֖ם מִכֶּ֥תֶם אוֹפִֽיר׃

I’m an unpredictable but fiercely empathetic person, with a somewhat off-beat sense of humour. A huge fan of languages and human cultures. Moved to Haifa in Dec. 2017 and loving it, now working as a tutor and loving it too. Currently working my MA in sign language linguistics at Haifa U, planning to study teaching ESL at NUI Galway later on and later then going to settle abroad somewhere undecided to work in Deaf education (likely Montréal).If you want to know more about me, you can read more about me on my Tumblog. You should probably read the ‘About’ page and maybe look through my more important posts (for some of my observations and opinions), and in general pay particular attention to this post. (I’m not re-typing everything over here…)

Also, I have a Quora account. And a mostly inactive YouTube channel, with Hebrew CC & English subs for all vids there.

What I'm doing with my life

Having finished my BA in linguistics and East Asian studies, I translate and teach Hebrew and English whenever I get to (I translated the young adult fantasy novel Murderess by Daya Marnin to English), while learning a whole bunch of languages, most notably improving my already decent Japanese, and being as politically active (staunch leftist here) as circumstances allow. Also, I am now a tutor for K–12 students, teaching English, math, and Hebrew grammar & composition.

You’re more than welcome to contact me if you’re interested in learning Hebrew!

Also, I’m trying to make some money off my poetry, either through personalised commissions or through Patreon supporters.

I'm really good at

Languages are definitely my thing. I’m studying all languages currently available on Duolingo (finished 11 already and counting) and then some, and when Duolingo releases more I’ll add them to the list. (So you’re more than welcome to tell me what languages get you going… 😉)

Other than that I’m very good with words, as a translator and a poet (as I pointed out, I translated a book, and it had poetry in it; I’ve written poetry that’s moved people to tears, too), and I’m a pretty good dancer. Also, I’m creative and rather skilful in the kitchen, having honed these skills somewhat during the time I was a vegan. (If I like you, I’ll definitely make you something nice!)

My golden rule

‘Integrity above all.’

Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food

BOOKS

My all-time favourite is Summer Celebration by Natan Alterman (look it up on TV Tropes; I wrote that article). Other than that I loved:

 I Am a Cat by Natsume Souseki

Mr. Muo’s Travelling Couch by Dai Sijie

The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger

The Lover by A. B. Yehoshu‘a

Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green & David Leviathan

The Narrow Road to Oku by Matsuo Basho: I actually wrote a book report on it and dressed up as Basho for Purim in the 10th grade

…and others

FILMS

My all-time favourite is Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Other than that I loved:

everything by Satoshi Kon

almost everything by Hayao Miyazaki (I’ve seen ALL of his films), the only exception being Porco Rosso

Love & Pop and Shiki Jitsu by Hideaki Anno

Wild Strawberries and The Best Intentions by Ingmar Bergman

anything by Akira Kurosawa

The White Ribbon and Funny Games by Michael Haneke

almost every Israeli film I’ve seen

almost every German film I’ve seen

The Rocky Horror Picture Show & Shock Treatment

(Needless to say, I’m somewhat of a film enthusiast; this doesn’t even begin to cover it)

SHOWS

My all-time favourite is Hideaki Anno’s life-changing fantastic Neon Genesis Evangelion. Others include quite a few good anime series and some non-anime ones:

Fullmetal Alchemist (2003)

Elfen Lied

Samurai Champloo

Cowboy Bebop

Kino’s Journey

Gunbuster

Ouran High School Host Club

Loveless

Shinsekai Yori

Aggretsuko

Live action:

Kidding

The Good Wife & The Good Fight

Orange is the New Black

Dexter

Breaking Bad

Borgen

Ray Donovan

Please Like Me

Looking

Jinn

some Israeli series

Non-anime animated:

Steven Universe

Adventure Time

MUSIC

Pink Floyd is my favourite band. I also love:

Bands:

Sigur Rós, especially Von (though I struggle to listen to them after Orri Páll Dýrason got #MeToo’d)

HaBiluim

HaMechashefot

The Seatbelts

Enigma

Jane Bordeaux (my guilty pleasure)

Stereopony (another guilty pleasure)

Individual artists:

Nujabes

Zemfira

John Coltrane

Antonio Carlos Jobim

Thijs van Leer

Hughes de Courson

Jacques Brel

Composers:

Bach

Beethoven

Prokofiev

Scriabin

Purcell

(These lists are by no means exhaustive…)

Generally, I find Modern Hebrew to be just the right amount of rugged for rock music. But I’m probably biased because Israeli rock was very much in vogue here when I was a little kid…

My taste is generally very eclectic though I don’t listen to music all that much on my own; basically, it amounts to ‘everything good, especially ambience, Western art music, chillout, jazz, prog/post-rock, and folk’.

FOOD

I was a vegan for almost two years starting around November 2014; it was somewhat of a challenge, but it did teach me to be very creative in the kitchen, and very aware of vegans’ needs. Generally, I’m pretty open-minded, but I particularly love:

East Asian food: Indian, Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese

French and Italian food

Seafood

Six things I could never do without

Cats

Human interaction (in moderation!)

Textbooks and other study materials

The ability to watch films

The ability to listen to music when I want to

Good food

I spend a lot of time thinking about

My day-to-day obligations, politics (including SJ), my ambitions, general philosophy… There’s plenty.

A perfect day

A day I feel I’ve been productive in: having read something, or learned something, worked out, cooked, written… and spent time with loved ones.

If I were sent to jail, I'd be arrested for

Either something I didn’t do, or some heroic act of vigilantism.

You should message me if

And now for what I’m looking for, especially for a more prolonged interaction.

As I said, I am obviously into languages and East Asian cultures (specifically Japanese), but I’m also happy to learn. If you’re willing to learn more about these topics (and in general) but your main field of interest is different, I’d be delighted, as I’d feel we could complete each other. (Same goes for speaking a foreign language.)

Genuine empathy matters a lot to me. If I think you lack it or deny it arbitrarily, I’ll be alarmed, but genuine warmth is something I love and will likely be drawn to you for.

With regards to personal convictions (e.g. political and religious): my main requirement is that you stick by what you believe in and be able to reasonably explain why you do. I may disagree with you fiercely, but I’ll respect you deeply for sticking by an informed opinion—I’ve gotten along surprisingly well with people from a very wide range of opinions.

Also, a pretty important pet peeve of mine: if I’m not calm or smiling there’s almost certainly a good, objective reason for it. You’re more than welcome to address those, or offer comfort and understanding, which I’ll appreciate immensely, but it really rubs me the wrong way when people try to tell me to react differently just because (‘Aw c’mon… Smile!’).

That’s about it in terms of personality. As for looks, I like soft facial features, smooth skin, and any body type that isn’t fat, or excessively muscular on women (nothing against those body types, they’re just not my taste).

Finally, as for expectations from talking: I’m not looking into anything too serious, for a variety of reasons. But I could make concessions if truly swept off my feet…

[jpat82]

Frankenstark’s Monster

Bruce Banner x Reader

     After coming home you flopped on your couch, brain still in a whirl wind of what Tony had dropped you. Didn't he know how dangerous that could be? Let's forget at the moment he was trying to bring back the dead, which had its whole other set of issues. But the fact he was going to be rerouting a hell of lot of current into the lab, he could get himself fried, blown up, knock out the power grid for the whole damn state. The ramifications of that a lone could throw the man in jail.

    Then you get into the fact he would be bringing someone back from the dead, a hugely horrible moral issue. You knew if Tony had set his mind to it it wouldn't be if he could but when he did. And his moral compass generally spun in all directions, he did try to do things right, always wanting to do better by those around him but he had the tendency to get side tracked.

    You were heavy in thought when you noticed the lights dim, slowly you looked around your apartment. The light continued to dim and you stood from your spot and looked out your window watching as every light in the city lost its brightness.

"Dammit Stark." You muttered, springing from your spot. You made a dash to your door, throwing your coat on.

You pulled the door open, slamming it behind you, sprinting down the hall. You snagged your phone from your pocket as you raced down the stairs to the ground floor, punching in the numbers to Tony's lab. It kept ringing until Friday picked up and you ended the call. You tried his cell phone, rushing out into the street, rain drizzled down around you. Again you got voicemail.

"Damn it." You stated, jogging to your car.

That's when you heard it, a roar from down the street, it sent a chill down your spine. You skidded to a stop and froze in your spot, you heard the roar again but closer as glass and metal smashed. Slowly you looked over your shoulder, down the street, something large loomed down the deserted road. The street lamp over head above the figure was out just allowing you barely see the outline.

The shape was human, but it had to stand close to nine feet tall and at the shoulders it was as wide as a van. It stood slightly hunched, it's shoulders heaved with each breath it took. You brushed the rain dampened hair from your forehead as you watched it take a large step in your direction. Every muscle in your body locked tight, and you tried to remember how to breathe.

He lunged into motion, clearing the distance in seconds. The monster was a shade of green that you had never thought to see as he lifted you with ease, his voice coming out in a deafening roar. Deep brown eyes bore into you, a thatch of chestnut hair ran across his scalp. Your body trembled as he held up before him like a rag doll.

"Please, don't hurt me." You cried softly, unable to move as his intense stare caused a shiver of fear to course through you again.

You could see the anger in his face, the rage that rolled off of him like a tidal wave. He was seething with each breath he took, but in his eyes you saw something, something that ran far deeper then anger, pain.

    "So angry!" He roared again, slamming his spare fist into your car while holding you tight.

    "Please, please don't hurt me!" You cried out, tears began to stream down your face as your car alarm started to wail in the night.

"No hurt you." His voice bellowed, all you could was stare at him.

You body shuttered as he growled toward the car, slamming his huge fist down onto the hood silencing your car and denting in the metal one movement. He glared at your car, as you tried to think of a way to get loose, to get away. His eyes slowly turned back to you, you blinked hard trying to regain the control over your emotions.

    "Hulk no hurt you." He stated again, you looked back up at him, and took a deep breath.

    "What did you say?" You asked softly, you heard the term Hulk before, it was one Dr. Banner had used describing his work with gamma.

     "No hurt y/n." He replied, slowly releasing you and taking a step back.

     "You.. you know me." You stuttered swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of your throat. Banner had been dead for months, not only had he been your longest employer but also one of closest and dearest friends. His death had rocked you to the core and it still stung that he was gone.

    "Yes." He said, taking a step back, the movement was jerky and he roared again. You jumped at the sound covering your ears.

    You watch in a mixture of amazement and horror as the Hulk staggered, his muscles rippled beneath his skin. The color was lightening, becoming less green as his size began to shrink. Suddenly he fell to the ground and began to convulse, you knew you should flee but the stronger part of you knew that he would never of hurt you.

    You rushed to him, kneeling down as the beast slowly disappeared leaving behind the small body of a normal man. His chestnut hair drenched from the rain, almost completely naked save for the extremely stretched out and tattered pants. His eyes slowly opened toward the night sky and then focused on you.

    "Bruce?" You whispered, a slow tear mixing with cold rain.

    "Y/n?" He breathed, slowly sitting up and looking around the empty dark street. "What?"

    "You were dead." You said softly, tears running down you face as you choked back a sob. "Tony, he must of done it."

    "Done what? If I'm dead, am I in heaven?" He asked, slowly rising to his feet holding the top of his pants so they didn't fall of him. You rose to your feet and threw your arms around his neck.

     "Tony brought you back from the dead." You cried into his neck as emotions flood you.

    "Not sure how I feel about that." Bruce chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "But, I'm glad to be back if it means your here."

    You pulled back and looked deep into his eyes, he brought his hand up and wiped the tears running down your face away.

    "Let's go back, and I'll explain." You said, grabbing his hand and turning to your car. You sighed fishing out your phone and hit redial. "Actually I'll see if Tony can pick us up."

    "What happened to your car." He asked, scratching his head.

    "Yeah, that's going to be fun to explain." You sighed.

@kitkatkl @octobermermaid @ajosieface @instantnoodlese @crystlblu @coffeebooksandfandom @thisismysecrethappyplace @the-wayward-robot @lokilvrr @devilbat

[sapphicscholar]

Chapter Text:

“Agent Alex Danvers, FBI.” Alex flashed her badge at the NCPD officer stuck on front desk duty.

He barely deigned to look up from the sports section of the newspaper propped up in front of him. “Yes?”

“I have a meeting with Officer”—Alex glanced down at the index card with the scrawled name of the woman Kara had picked out of their virtual lineup of NCPD officers—“Maggie Sawyer.”

“One minute.”

Alex tapped her foot as she waited for him to call her.

“Sawyer? … Yeah, some fed’s here to see you. You want me to send her to you? … Alright.” He looked back up at Alex. “She’ll be here in a minute. You can take a seat.”

Alex glanced over at the rows of plastic chairs bolted to the floor, opting to stand instead. After a few moments, a small woman strode into the waiting area. With a smile that seemed less than certain on her face, she raised her hand in greeting. “You’re here to see me?”

“Officer Sawyer?”

“Detective Sawyer, but yes, that would be me.”

“My name is Alex Danvers. I’m an agent with the FBI unit that your division has expressed interest in supporting on the occasional small case.” She held up her badge as a show of good faith, even if it was a faked ID.

“I don’t think that’s quite how we phrased it, but sure, come on back.”

Alex followed behind Maggie, watching the way her hips swayed slightly with every step, drawing her attention—nowhere, absolutely nowhere. She shook her head and sped up to walk at Maggie’s side.

Once they were settled in one of the small meeting rooms, Maggie sank into a chair, steepling her hands on the table in front of her and regarding Alex with a slight tilt to her head. “What can I do for you, Agent Danvers?”

“I figured it would be good to meet after the first extraterrestrial threat in which you and your division”—Alex bit back words like “meddled” or “got in the way” or “talked about things you couldn’t understand”—“intervened.”

“Mm, right. The K’hund.”

“I…yes. Did Supergirl speak to you?”

Alex couldn’t help but notice the way Maggie rolled her eyes at the question, feeling herself bristle in turn. “No. You think I need Supergirl to give me information as basic as the kind of alien we’re dealing with?”

“It’s just, certain things aren’t exactly common knowledge.”

“Most things aren’t common knowledge. But once it’s your job, you learn them.” Maggie said it so matter-of-factly that Alex almost found herself nodding right along with her.

“Some things are classified, though, and there will be situations in which we at the FBI will need to be the ones to call the shots and take point.”

“You mean steal jurisdiction and leave us in the dark.”

Alex ground her teeth together, hearing J’onn’s voice in her head telling her to play nice. “I mean ensure that the situation is handled appropriately.”

“With no oversight or care for the aliens’ rights.”

“Do you have any idea about the K’hund you were dealing with?” Alex scoffed, pushing her hair back from her face. “He’d been imprisoned before. Twice actually. Even if we ignore his prior records, here on Earth he went out on a spree destroying armored vehicles, abetting criminals in stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of gold, killing or seriously injuring almost a dozen guards in the process.”

“So there are trial records?” Maggie arched an eyebrow as she held Alex’s gaze, the corner of her mouth curling up slightly as though she were enjoying herself.

“You have a jail cell to hold someone who can crumple a car into a ball of metal with his bare hands?”

Maggie shrugged. “Even if the containment is on you, there are rights that shouldn’t be abridged.”

“I—you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Do I still not know what I’m saying when I look at that fake badge of yours and call your bluff ’cause I can tell you’re DEO from a mile away?”

Alex felt her hands curling into fists. “I can see this was a pointless meeting.”

“What? Mad that someone might not let you get away with running a black ops site in the middle of nowhere?” Maggie yelled after her, but Alex was already through the door and striding back outside.

On the drive to the DEO, Alex called J’onn, grumbling loudly about pain in the ass cops who should learn to stay in their own lanes.

“Alex, please tell me that the working partnership is still intact.”

“It is. I left, but I didn’t yell at her…not really.” She could hear J’onn sigh through the line.

“These orders are coming from high above me. With the President’s new Alien Amnesty Act signed into law, we’re going to see more and more changes.”

“But—”

“Alex, some of them will be good. People like me, like your sister—we might be able to live openly, and even if I'm still not certain about how it will work in practice, it is law now. But that means that things like alien rights will need to be a consideration. The way we’re operating now might no longer work.”

“Okay, fine. Say you stole from a store. Sure, you should get a trial. But J’onn, these Fort Rozz aliens have intergalactic rap sheets that go on for pages!”

“And a few of them were subjected to an unduly strict justice system and given life sentences for petty crimes that might only have garnered fines and community service here.”

“What about the ones trying to kill my sister, J’onn? I’m supposed to let the cops throw some flimsy handcuffs on them and put them in front of a jury of people they could kill with a single punch and call that justice?”

“It’s—it’s more complicated than that. We are not ceding control completely. But the new law means there will be cooperation. It means being a little more upfront and self-reflective.” A pause. “I’ve not been the most open to these changes, but I’ve been working to understand them. I think Kara might be a step ahead of both of us here. Perhaps it would be wise to listen to her.”

“Maybe.” Alex was anything but convinced.

“Change is coming whether we like it or not. We’ll do well to get out in front of it, set the terms of these partnerships while it’s still in our power to do so.”

Alex hummed in understanding. She’d adapt; she could do that. But ceding any amount of control to Detective Sawyer? That would happen over her dead body.

---

Alex spent her evening reading through the articles Kara and Cat had been writing about the Alien Amnesty Act and alien rights over the past few months. She remembered listening to Kara rave about having the opportunity to work with Cat “as equals, Alex, can you believe it?” but she had heard so much about the articles while Kara was writing them that she never got around to reading the final drafts, let alone Cat’s pieces.

Begrudgingly, she admitted that they made a few good points. The interviews they had done with aliens from across National City had moved Alex in ways she hadn’t expected. There were children forced into home-schooling because they couldn’t pass as human, and adults forced into manual labor without any protections or insurance, being paid well below the minimum wage because they couldn’t get papers.

Alex thought back to Kara’s early days with them. She’d had trouble controlling her powers at first, and she had spoken in halting sentences with odd inflections on the words, but she’d never struggled to look human. That was something Alex had always taken for granted. But seeing the portraits featuring silvery skin that shimmered underneath bright flashes or scaled hands that held a child close to a mother’s chest…that wasn’t a possibility Alex had ever considered. She’d seen less-than-human hands curled around weapons pointed at her and her team and her sister; she’d watched distinctly non-human faces contort with rage in the midst of warfare and destruction. But the portraits Cat had organized—well, there was a reason she won as many awards as she did.

Come the end of the night Alex was far from convinced—especially when it came to NCPD’s involvement—but she thought J’onn would be proud of her for trying, and that had to be enough for now.

---

Two quiet days in a row with J’onn out of town had to be too good to last, and sure enough, on Thursday, a group of three Tormocks, one of whom pinged as a Fort Rozz escapee, laid waste to downtown National City.

Ignoring the call from NCPD, Alex ordered Alpha and Beta teams to mobilize and meet Supergirl downtown to provide backup. A call to Vasquez at the desert base from the van was enough to have a third team meeting them to secure the area and provide aerial reinforcements should they become necessary.

Deep in the fray, Alex cursed as bullets bounced ineffectively off the skin of the Tormocks, shifting as they did to become bulletproof and static or mobile and deadly in turn. Supergirl was holding her own, but there were only so many things she could do when her opponents could alter themselves at will, becoming impervious to her every attack.

Bullets ricocheted off the Tormocks' suddenly solid forms, and Alex found herself ducking and dodging more rebounding attacks from her own team than from the aliens.

The DEO agents confused and frustrated, and Alex watched on in horror as a few of them let their guard down long enough for a Tormock to strike out with an arm that was suddenly sharp as a blade.

“Man down! We need a med evac,” Alex barked into her earpiece as she watched Jackson, one of the agents from Beta Team, fall, a gash across his face and upper arm, his chest having been saved only by his Kevlar. Dodging attacks, Alex wove her way across the street and grabbed Jackson, dragging him to the relative safety of an alleyway.

“You’re okay,” Alex insisted, putting pressure on the wound and calling again for backup as she watched blood soak through the fabric over his arm at a pace that seemed much too fast to give the man a solid chance at survival. She swallowed back fear, repeating over and over again that he would be okay, even as she radioed in to the med team to let them know that his brachial artery might have been cut and they needed to have blood ready for him stat.

As soon as Jackson was whisked away into the back of one of the med vans parked a few blocks over, Alex threw herself into the fight with a renewed zeal, rage and frustration pulsing through her veins.

It seemed like a small eternity before a first shot landed, wounding one of the Tormocks while he was in a more vulnerable form, lashing out to try to attack Supergirl.

Alex whipped her head around, looking to see who’d managed to get the shot off, following the bullet’s trajectory back to a dumpster where she found the same damned detective from Monday crouched low, little more than a standard-issue police gun in her hand.

“Get out of here!” Alex hissed, jogging back to the dumpster.

“I’m the first one that got a shot in! I’m staying.”

“This isn’t your mission.”

“Only because you’re all too stubborn to admit you could use help.” Maggie popped up, firing off another round and landing a glancing blow to the same Tormock as before, who seemed to be moving more slowly, his shapeshifting not coming as easily as it once had. “See!”

“Do you even have a vest on for protection?” Alex grumbled before leaning out to fire off a round of her own, cursing under her breath as she caught the thick armor.

“Trick is to start shooting while they’re still armored. The second Supergirl leaves herself open for an attack is when they shift, and that’s when they’re vulnerable, but only for a few seconds.”

Alex watched, noting the exact moment when Supergirl turned her attention away from one of the three aliens. Never one to be bested, Alex sent a volley of bullets in his direction, letting out a satisfied huff as they met their mark, leaving one down—or at least down enough to contain—and two to go.

Maggie looked almost impressed. “Good shot.”

“It’s my job.”

“God, you’re infuriating.”

“And you’re not?”

They were soon distracted by one of the remaining two Tormocks, and Alex called out orders to her teams, breaking down Maggie’s instructions over the comms and getting her best long-range shooters in position, while Supergirl was left with only a small handful of agents who knew where to stand to avoid the line of fire.

By the time they wrestled the third alien into containment in the back of a DEO van, Alex had three wounded agents, including Jackson, who remained in critical condition. With an excuse to that effect, Alex brushed off Maggie and hopped into the back of a van, calling in for updates from all of her teams as they drove back to the downtown branch while the transport van took the Tormocks out to containment in the desert base.

Between check-ins with the wounded agents and more phone calls than she’d ever wanted to make and stacks of paperwork that seemed endless, Alex felt the post-battle adrenaline surge seeping out of her and leaving her exhausted.

After one final call down to the med bay to inquire into Jackson’s status—still critical, though it looked like he would pull through—Alex dragged herself out of the office. The short drive back to her building passed in a haze, and she cursed the lack of an elevator as she dragged her legs up the four flights of stairs to her apartment.

Once she was in the door, Alex kicked off her boots and shucked her jacket, pulling off the rest of her clothes as she made her way to the bathroom and into the shower. It didn’t matter that she’d washed off at the DEO; it never felt like she’d quite left the battle behind until she stood beneath the hot stream of water in her own bathroom in her own apartment, letting the final remnants slip away in the steam. Not that they ever went away entirely. She knew well enough that the nightmares that woke her weren’t random, much like she knew there was more behind the way her thoughts raced and spiraled, keeping her awake on days when she’d come a little too close to losing people, to losing her sister.

That night, though, Alex felt ready to fall into a deep sleep as she sank down on the mattress and pulled the sheets up around her, letting her head nestle into the pillow.

Barely an hour later, she woke with a start, bolting up and scrambling for her gun as she tried to figure out what had pulled her out of such a deep sleep.

A thud against the wall behind her headboard drew her attention.

“Fuck.”

Alex narrowed her eyes at the offending woman’s voice, but it seemed to quiet. Perhaps she hadn't been the culprit after all.

After a few minutes of murmurs from next door that were barely enough to constitute noise, Alex sank back down into the covers, letting herself get comfortable once more.

It was then that she heard the squeaking of a bed frame. Incessant. Grating. A few minutes later it was joined by a woman’s breathy moans—fuck, oh god, don’t stop.

Alex blinked at the clock on her bedside table. 10:49. Possibly early enough that normal people would still be awake. Of course, normal people hadn’t been awake since 4:30 and battling aliens into the early afternoon. Not that her neighbor knew any of that. Because Alex was a good neighbor who didn’t leave any indications about her schedule.

She ground her teeth as the rattle of the bed grew louder, the woman’s demands and moans increasing right along with it. A loud, high-pitched whimper finally rang out, and Alex let out a preemptive sigh of relief.

To Alex's dismay, the process repeated another two times before the noises stopped entirely.

Well, wasn’t he considerate, Alex thought to herself. Then again, maybe it had all been faked. God knows she’d done it a few times. Or, well, more like all the times. But she didn’t need to dwell. Instead she pushed all those questions down with her ever-growing to-do lists and thoughts about calls she had to make, resolving to deal with them all in the future. Maybe.

[scipunk63]

Moss Will Lead You Home

(Just a silly drabble containing family fluff and hints of Addiford fluff. Takes place years after 'The Devils Went Down To California' and 'Moss Grows On the Other Side'. A shout out to my co, @hntrgurl13 )

Summary: Shermie encourages Stanford to hurry up in rebuilding his life. Theres a lot that Shermie wants to see done before its too late for him to be apart of it. Takes place some 12+ years or so after the events of the first story.

.

.

It was hot outside. Too hot for Shermie to properly enjoy his porch swing, but the man was too damn stubborn to admit it. Instead, he just glared at the blinding sun, watching as the cars containing his family pulled up. A blue van, a maroon sports car, some kind of old's mobile of sorts (or whatever it was, Shermie' s eyes weren't what they used to be.) Nieces, nephews, sons, daughters, it was starting to look like the whole gang was there and Shermie couldn't be more pleased-

"Sherman, come inside." His sister called gently to him. "I don't want you to overheat."

"Shirl, on this heart medication, everyday feels like the ice age." Shermie lied. "Just let me sit and enjoy my family."

He huffed softly and pulled himself off of his chair, and after a brief search for his cane, he began to hobble down the front steps towards the newcomers. The man was determined to get in a few hellos before his grandkids came downstairs to steal the show, as those two tended to do every year.

"Morning Lotti, Tate, brother-in-law,- whoever you are- the real Stanford, Lying Fuckface." He rattled off, keeping his voice cheerful.

"Nice to see you too, Sherm." He heard Stanley toss back at him, and he offered him a bird in return. "Oh, real mature!"

"Bout as mature as lying to your whole family." Shermie huffed. "For however many years, I had to sit and wait for the confirmation in order to collect my dues."

Shermie continued to shuffle his way through the crowd, stopping just before an unfamiliar blonde. The same blonde who was the "whoever you are" on his list. He had thought she had come from Stanley's car, but that was the extent of what he knew of her. She didn't have the prettiest face, in his opinion, so he naturally came to the conclusion that she wasn't a Pines by blood (all the Pines women had beautiful faces, after all.) That left a couple of options of who she may be still, so Shermie felt it best that he introduce himself and get a proper answer from her.

"You must be Adeline." Shermie guessed. "Stanford only breifly mentioned you the few times he called me, so forgive me for not being sure."

"Its alright, sir." The blonde replied. "Yes, I'm Adeline-"

"Good, now I can be certain I'm telling the right person this." Shermie smiled and cleared his throat. "I may be a 79 year old man, but just know that I own several shotguns, a shovel-"

"Wha- Wait-?"

" -And that dummy you're with is still my little brother. I'd go to jail for any one of my siblings." Shermie went on, raising his cane slightly for emphasis on this being a threat (of sorts).

"Sherman, leave Adeline alone." Stanford called to him. "And stop threatening all new members of the family before one of them puts a hit out on you."

Shermie turned to his little brother and began his hobble back over to him. He felt a little winded by then, the track from the front porch to the edge of the side walk being a long one, but not enough to be bothered by it. Ever since their Ma passed, he had taken up her mantel of herding around the reunion-goers and threatening newcomers vaguely to make sure they got the full Pines Family welcome. Nothing would stop him from completing this task. It was just something that Stanford wouldn't understand.

"Come-'ere, little brother." Shermie huffed, shuffling back towards the house. "I got somethin- something for you."

There had been a few reunions that Stanford had missed- albeit, Shermie was only counting the ones he had missed willingly. After his return from wherever he went, that's when Shermie started counting them, and when he started pressuring his brother to come visit more. This was the first year he managed to convince him to show up to one of these events, after resorting to the good old fashioned "you never know when this one will be the last one you'll get to see me at." And all that.

He had his reasons for all that. Sure, what he said was true, but not the full reason why he wanted him to come.

.

The burst of A.C was fantastic, in lack of a better term. Any traces of heat and the pressure on Shermie's chest was almost gone in an instant, and the older man felt a renewed sense of energy. He all but dashed to the master bedroom, with his brother following stiffly behi-

What was he going in there for again? Oh- right!

"Sherman-" Stanford began. "I'm- sorry for the last few years- I've had a lot to rebuild after the accident."

"I don't want to hear it, Stanford." Shermie said bluntly, going over to his late wife's jewlery box and beginning to dig through it. "We all had things we had to rebuild at points in our lives... It's just something people do."

"Then why guilt me about it?" Stanford asked. "You did every year up until now-"

"You started your rebuilding later in life- and there are just some things we need to get out of the way first." Shermie said.

He was searching through Mildred's many necklaces and earrings and broaches. All but one had been gifts from Shermie, for various events and occasions in their lives. It warmed his heart a little to see them all again. They all reminded him of happier times, some with his whole family, and some without. But he could look through them in depth later. Right now he had a particular piece he needed to find-

A diamond ring, with a golden band and 2 little gems on each side, one for each person their father ever loved (apparently). With a hesitant hand- Shermie suddenly becoming indecisive about removing the ring from where its home had been for so long... And send it somewhere else with a man who he could consider a perfect stranger. He hesitated a moment longer, before he quickly plucked it up, and clutched it tightly in his palm.

"What is it, Sherm?" Stanford asked.

"Stanford... You've got a lot of rebuilding to do- A lot of which you're gonna have to do without us." Shermie began, turning to his brother slowly. "Namely, without Ma, dad, and I..."

"Sherm-"

"Don't interrupt me- anyway... You've still got at least 30 years on you. Go and live your second life." Shermie smiled, as he grabbed his brother's hand and pushed the ring into his palm and covered it. "And take this with you, why don't you?"

Stanford looked down at their hands, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Ma's wedding ring?"

"My Mildred wore it to her wedding, and our sister wore it to hers, and-Stanley was going to propose to Carla with it- but my son also used it in his wedding, and so on." Shermie smiled faintly. "They got Ma with the ring, but I figured you could use it with or without her. So you could have a piece of your family with you on that special day. Or some shit."

"I would have to get married first, Shermie." Stanford laughed.

"You'll find someone." Shermie scoffed. "Unelss you already have- Then get to it! I want to be alive to see your wedding and my niece or nephew be born! I don't have a stupid ring to symbolize me in all that!"

Stanford laughed again, and Shermie smiled a little more. He must be doing Ma's job right if he managed to make his family happy. With a satisfied smile, Shermie sat down on his bed. May it be the exposure to the sun, his age, or his long walk, he felt tired and in need of a nap. Stanford must have noticed it too.

"If you stay up just a little longer, I can get the first half started." Stanford said, "I can't guaranty the niece and nephew part... But I can try to get a proposal and wedding out of the way so you can see that."

Shermie nodded his head, and stood up. He had to search for the cane that was still in his hand, but after he found it, he hobbled after his younger brother, intent on seeing the dork actually propose to someone before he died. And hopefully, hopefully Shermie would get to see their wedding too.

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip

Off to Canada to look for Loki!

They’d only gone a few yards up the road.  Nat stopped and backed up.  Steve was worried Downey would try to run, but instead he came to meet them.  Nat opened the door for him.

“Have you come to your senses?” he asked.

Natasha extended a hand.  Downey took it and climbed in, and as soon as he shut the door, Nat pressed the button to lock all four.  While their newly-acquired prisoner was still reacting to that, she snatched his phone and tossed it to Steve – then she hit the gas, heading east again.

“Hey!” Downey protested.  “Now what are you doing?”

“We can’t let you call the police,” Nat explained calmly.

“I wasn’t calling the police!  I was texting Susan!”

Steve checked the phone in his hands.  The open app was indeed a text conversation with ‘Susan’, most of which seemed to consist of sweet nothings and heart-eyed cat emojis.  At the very bottom, Downey had begun to type a new message: ChrisE and ScarJo stole the van.  I’m gonna…

“It does say Susan,” he confirmed.

“Who is Susan?” Nat asked.

“You know Susan,” Downey protested.  “She’s my wife!”

“Is she Pepper?” asked Steve.  “I mean, is she the actress who plays Pepper?”  That seemed a natural conclusion to come to. He couldn’t imagine Stark marrying anyone but Pepper Potts regardless of what universe it happened in.

“What?  No. Gwyneth Paltrow is Pepper,” said Downey.

They passed Pepperdine University, where the road divided in two.  To get to Los Angeles, they would have had to take the right fork and continue down the coast.  Nat took the left one, heading inland to the mountains.

“Uh… where do you think you’re going?” asked Downey.

“Canada, of course,” said Natasha.  “You said that’s where Loki is.”

Downey’s phone rang.  “That’ll be her,” he said.

Sure enough, when Steve checked the phone identified the caller as ‘Susan’.  He connected the call and said, “hello?”

“Hello?” asked the voice that must be Mrs. Downey. “Is this Chris?”

“Yes,” Steve said.  “Yes, this is Chris.”  He hoped it sounded convincing to her.

It must have, because she didn’t question it. “Is Bob bringing you back to our place?”

“No, he’s not,” said Steve.

Downey turned in his seat to reach back.  “Let me talk to her!” he said.  “Susan!  Can you hear me?”

“Tell Bob not to talk on the phone while he’s driving,” said Susan.

“She says…” Steve began.

“I’m not driving!”  Downey held out a hand.  “Please?” he asked.  “Please?”  His eyes were huge and pleading.  It was an expression Steve had seen on Stark, but only when he was talking to either Pepper or Colonel Rhodes.  “I won’t tell her,” he whispered, “I promise.  Just please.”  His voice rose to a more normal level.  “Let me talk to her.”

He looked like a puppy who wanted a hug. Somewhat against his better judgment, Steve gave him the phone.

“Susan!” Downey said, putting it to his ear.  “I’m so glad you called.”

Nat caught Steve’s eye in the mirror and glared at him.  The message was clear that if this went horribly wrong too, she was holding him responsible.

“Just listen, honey,” said Downey, holding the phone to his right ear and leaning away from Natasha, as if afraid she would grab it from him again at any moment.  “Chris and Scarlett have sort of kidnapped me.”

He was silent for a moment while his wife said something.

“Well, they’re not actually going to hurt me, and they don’t need to ransom me off, so yeah, only sort of,” Downey said.  “I think they’re planning to plead insanity so they’re trying to convince me they’ve lost their minds.  It’s actually working pretty well so far.”

Steve undid his seat belt and tensed his legs, prepared to stand up and snatch the phone back if he had to.  Downey glanced back at him, and held up a hand to tell him to stop.

“No, don’t call anybody,” he told Susan.  “It’ll all work itself out – they say they’re going to Canada but that won’t work, so I’ll see what they’re up to and probably be home in a few hours.  Tell the kids Dad had some Iron Man stuff to do or something.  Okay.  I love you. Sleep tight.”  He disconnected and handed the phone back to Steve.  “There.  That’s all I wanted – so she wouldn’t worry about me.”

Steve was startled.  Even knowing that this wasn’t Stark – and that was getting clearer and clearer with every word out of the man’s mouth – telling his wife not to call the police because ‘Chris and Scarlett’ wouldn’t hurt him was an awfully trusting thing for Downey to do.  Now that he’d expressed that trust, furthermore, Steve would find it awfully hard to betray… maybe Downey knew that.  Or maybe, as the guy who’d played Tony Stark, he should have known better.

“All right.”  Downey folded his arms across his chest.  “Whatever this is, whether it’s a publicity stunt or a practical joke or the aliens from Galaxy Quest, I’ll ride along as far as it goes and see what happens.  I don’t think you’ll get in to Canada, though.”

For a moment Steve wasn’t sure what he was talking about – Canada was not exactly an impenetrable fortress of a country. Then he remembered, “the terms of our bail were don’t leave California, weren’t they?”  Not allowed into the United States in one reality, not allowed out in the next.  Everybody loved placing restrictions on him.

“You really think that’ll be a problem?” asked Nat with a bit of a smile.

“Probably not,” said Steve.

They crossed the border into Nevada with no trouble, which definitely surprised Downey, and passed through Vegas before heading on into Utah.  Steve dozed in the back seat until Nat woke him up near the border of Idaho and told him to take a turn driving.  She was yawning as she crawled into the back to curl up, and Steve realized he couldn’t remember ever seeing her sleepy before.  Natasha was like him – she could sleep anywhere and wake up alert and ready to go for as long as she needed to.  She got tired, but not sleepy.  It seemed like she, too, was feeling the effects of being… well, a little more human than usua.

Downey paid for gas and snacks, and they got back on the road.

Shortly after they’d entered Montana, with the sun coming up and Natasha still snoring in the back seat, Downey asked, “were you two already in some kind of trouble?  Is that what this is?”  He was worried again now.  “And now you’re trying to get out of the country?”

“We told you what happened,” said Steve.

Downey scowled again.  “You can’t ask me to believe you really think that.”

“Why would we tell you something like that if it wasn’t true?” Steve tried.

“Hell if I know,” Downey said.  “Maybe you’ve been reading too many internet posts with that joke about how Marvel grow their characters in tubes of blue goo like something out of Avatar.”

Steve turned to look at him with a concerned frown. “Do people actually believe that?” he asked.  Maybe that was how this universe really worked. Maybe Chris Evans looked exactly like Steve because he was… who knew?  A clone, perhaps.  Or something worse.

“There are people who believe JonBenet’s parents faked her death and she grew up to be Katy Perry,” said Downey, “so yeah, there probably are, but that doesn’t mean it’s true.  You understand that, right?”  He sounded like he wasn’t sure Steve did.  “You’re not anybody’s science experiment.  You have parents who are probably wondering what the hell you’re doing right now.”

Parents. Steve hadn’t thought about that, but it was true – this Chris Evans must have a mother and father.  If they were still alive and they met Steve, they would probably think he was their son.  Would Mrs. Evans drape a blanket around his shoulders and make him a cup of tea, the way his own mother used to?  Would her husband smile at Steve and tell him he was proud of him, the way Steve had always wished his father would?

Their numbers were probably in Evan’s phone, which suddenly felt very heavy in Steve’s pocket.  He could call them and find out.

Rather than do so, however, Steve pulled the phone out of his pocket and reached back to drop it on the floor in the back, where it would be difficult for him to retrieve.  The idea, however, lingered, like electricity crackling on the back of his neck.  Suddenly Steve understood, on a very visceral level, just why Natasha had insisted on going to Johansson’s house.  Having even the illusion of something you wanted so very badly, dangling in front of you like that, was the stuff of parables. It was so easy to tell himself that it would do no harm to just call – but then, Nat had probably thought it would do no harm to just read Rosie a story, to just pretend for five minutes, and he’d seen what had happened then. No, he could not call Evans’ parents. Definitely not.

“Evans has parents,” said Steve.  “Mine died a long time ago.”

Downey groaned and rubbed his forehead.  “You’re getting really close to convincing me, and you don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“Because if I believe that you believe you’re actually Captain America, I’m gonna have to have you committed,” Downey said.

It was almost exactly twenty-four hours since Downey had bailed them out of jail when Natasha, back in the driver’s seat, pulled to a stop in the parking lot at Calgary International Airport.  Downey had nodded off, himself, and had missed seeing how Nat got them into Canada.  This was probably all for the best – as she’d predicted, it hadn’t been a problem.  At the airport they got a cheap motel room where they could all shower and change their clothes, and then they went to the arrivals gate to meet Thor’s flight from Australia.

They all looked slightly ridiculous and not very superheroic, dressed as they were in whatever souvenir clothes the shops in the airport had been offering for sale.  Thor walked in wearing camo-print shorts, a white t-shirt, a pair of ray-bans, and wheeling a little hard-sided suitcase with Hello Kitty on it, but the effect was the same as it had been when he’d tried dressing down in Oslo.  No matter what he was wearing, he still walked and talked like the God of Thunder.

“Friends!” Thor said, and gathered Steve, Natasha, and Downey all up in one hug.  Chris Hemsworth was not as immense as the real Thor, but he was still a very large man with bulging arms that could encompass all three of them.  “It delights my heart to see familiar faces!”

“Good to see you, too, Thor,” Steve managed, with what little air the demigod’s hug left him.

“That includes you, Robert Downey Junior!” Thor added, stepping back to take a look at the unwilling third member of their party. “I have entertained myself on the flight by reading about our counterparts’ lives and work.  Your recovery from your lowest point was truly heroic, as is your dedication to make sure others do not suffer as you did!”

“Thanks,” said Downey, a little dazed.  “That’s how I got into this, as a matter of fact.”  He gave Steve and Nat a sidelong look.

“I am famished after my journey,” Thor said, “but the young gentleman seated next to me told me of a man named Tim Horton who makes the finest dough-nuts in Midgard.  I would like to taste them, and then perhaps we can learn more of this convention Loki is to be appearing at.”

The airport was offering a number of brochures for things to do in the city, which included an ad for the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo, beginning that day at the Roundup Centre convention hall.  While Thor tried several flavours of Tim Horton’s donuts, Steve slipped through the guest list.

“Here he is!” he said.  “Tom Hiddleston, of Marvel’s Thor and Kong: Skull Island!”  Then he looked at the picture, and did a double-take at the sight of the smiling blond man in glasses.  “It doesn’t even look like him.”

Natasha leaned to look.  “No, he’s got the nose,” she said.

“I would not take him for my brother, nose or no,” Thor said.  “It has been a long time since I saw Loki smile so warmly.”

“Do we have to worry about running into anybody else we know?” Natasha asked.  “Or think we know?”

Downey was sitting next to Steve, eating a grilled bacon and cheese sandwich.  He jabbed his finger at a picture of a woman with long, straight dark hair, identified by the caption as Jennifer Connelly, of Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.  “We might see Paul,” he said, “but I doubt any of you would recognize him.”

“Who’s Paul?” asked Nat.

“Never mind,” said Downey.  “Actually, if we do meet him, I want to see if you can figure it out for yourselves.”

Steve wondered if that meant he believed them now. More likely he was just seeing how far they’d take the joke.  Steve turned the page to look at the rest of the guests, and saw pictures that promised actors from Westworld and Once Upon a Time.  Then he turned another page, and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Meet the cast of Marvel’s Agent Carter.