#google how do I say ‘yes I’ll get the file done however there will be a 30 min delay due to me needing to cry in the bathroom about it’

[taardisblue]

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[babycharmander]

If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

[halloweenhoneylover]

the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you. 

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

——— 

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call.  (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously. 

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye. 

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again. 

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

——— 

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings. 

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

——— 

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled. 

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good. 

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence. 

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled. 

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation. 

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

[thorodinsson]

i finally decided to take the time & do a heavily requested gif tutorial! this will be very detailed & is how i make every single one of my gifs from start to finish! i’ll also include resources for ps downloads, actions, etc. if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask! & if this helps you, pls rb!!

TUTORIAL UNDER THE CUT!

i’m going to break it down into sections to hopefully make it easier to understand!

1. software i use

2. hq movie/tv show/video downloads

3. screencaps

4. importing screencaps into photoshop

5. cropping

6. actions/sharpening/gaussian blur

7. image sizing

8. time delay

9. coloring

10. saving

1. software i use

photoshop - i use photoshop cc 2020 on my macbook air but any version of photoshop with video timeline/frame timeline will work for creating gifs! i pay for my photoshop but i know there are ways to get it for free. if you don’t want to/can’t pay for photoshop, here (x, x, x, x) are some links to download it without paying!

mplayer osx extended - this is the software i use for my screencaps. there are a lot of software’s out there & i think it truly comes down to preference. i’m just more familiar with mplayer & the screencaps come out really smooth in my opinion. it’s free as well & here is a link to download it! 

2. hq movie/tv show/video downloads

ok so i’ll be real, i never used t*rrents until recently & i’ve personally noticed a huge difference when it comes to quality. before using them, i was using files from MEGA & if you’re not comfortable with t*rrents, i would definitely recommend MEGA links! when it comes to downloading any videos, try to make sure they are 1080p or 2160p if available! 720p is also ok but always try to get 1080p. also i’ve found that with movies, 1080p Blu-ray versions look better but again, it’s all about preference! 

t*rrents - i only use one t*rrent site which is r*rbg. they have a huge variety of tv shows & movies from what i can tell. 

MEGA - MEGA is really nice for people that aren’t comfortable with t*rrents. the way i used to use MEGA was, i followed accounts on twitter that would upload MEGA links to tv shows. here (x, x, x, x, x, x) are some of the accounts that post a wide variety of links to MEGA downloads! i will say, the only downside to MEGA links is that they seem to take longer to download & you can cap out at a certain amount of GB each day.

folx - i use this to download stuff from r*rbg! download this before you try to download anything from r*rbg. its free to use & there are multiple sites you can download this software from but i’ll link a few right here (x, x, x this one is a link directly from the apple store but it costs $15.00). if you don’t want to download from any of those links, you can just simply look up ‘folx mac/windows download’ in google!

4k video downloader - i use this to download videos from youtube! it’s free as well & you can download it here!

3. screencaps

once you’ve downloaded a movie or tv show or whatever you want to gif, open whichever screencap software you’re using & start playing the video. for mplayer osx extended, to screencap you just go to the scene you want to gif, pause the video, & hold down shift + command + S on mac (i think it’s the same for windows i’m not sure).

4. importing screenshots into photoshop

now that you’ve got the screencaps of the scene you want to gif, it’s time to open photoshop! to upload the screencaps, in photoshop go up in the lefthand corner to file > scripts > load files into stack. once you click on that, you’ll click ‘browse’ over to the right & the files on your computer will pop up. go to wherever you saved your screenshots & select all of them! once you’re done selecting them, hit ‘open’ in the bottom right corner.

5. cropping

now all of your screencaps are imported!!! now it’s time to crop the screencaps. go to the crop icon over to the left.

for this gif, i want dimensions to be 540 x 350, so i go up top & type it in

great! now the gif will look like this:

6. actions/sharpening/gaussian blur

now that the gif is cropped, we’re going to sharpen it. i use actions because they are so much faster & easier. i use the action that kylos uses in her giffing tutorial & the direct link to download the action is right here! to access actions, you can either go to window > actions or go over to the play button to the right that looks like this:

when you hit that play button, you will see the actions that you have downloaded pop up! select where it says ‘select here!’ & then go down to the play button at the bottom to play the action. i circled both steps down below

the default radius in this action is 0.3 & i normally change it to 0.4 (it’ll normally pop up & ask you like shown below & just change it to 0.4!)

now the action has been played!! i add an extra step but it’s optional! what i do next is i add a layer of gaussian blur on top of the action. to do that, go to filter > blur > gaussian blur. once you select that, it’ll have a pop up that looks like the one below & you’ll just select ok or hit the enter button

once you do that, you’ll notice your gif looks soft or not sharpened so the next step is to change the percentage of the gaussian blur layer you just applied. to do this, you go to the bottom right corner & hold down option by clicking on the gaussian blur layer. there will be options that pop up & you’ll select ‘edit smart filter blending options’ like shown below (my handwriting looks like a five-year-olds ik)

another pop up will show up in the middle of the screen & you’ll be able to select which percentage you want to place on your gif. the opacity really depends on the gif but i normally do 10%-30%. for a lot of my gifs recently i’ve applied 15% which is what i did on this gif! once you change the opacity to whatever you want, hit ok!

after that you want to change the image size to the same size you cropped the gif to. to do this, you’ll go to image > image size > & change it to 540 x 350 (or whatever the size of your gif is! also make sure it’s switched to pixels instead of inches! once you’ve done that hit ‘ok’ or press enter.

once that’s done, go ahead & save the gif! to do this, go to file > export > save for web (legacy). it’ll show you the size of the gif down in the bottom left & as long as it’s under 10mb you’ll be fine!!! down below i circled my save settings as well! also its SUPER IMPORTANT THAT YOU SET LOOPING OPTIONS TO FOREVER! once you’ve done all that, save your gif by hitting the ‘save...’ button down below that’s circled. you can name your gif however you like just make sure you keep the .gif after it!

now my gif looks sharper than before: 

now for time delay & coloring!!!

7. time delay

open the gif you just saved in photoshop by going to file > open. once it’s opened, you’ll see a timeline of all the frames towards the bottom. it’ll likely say 0.07 sec with a small little downward arrow next to it. select the downward arrow & select other. change the speed from ‘0.07′ to ‘0.05′! gifs look much better & more natural at this speed. (also yes i did delete a few frames because i felt it was too long so to delete frames you just select the ones you want to delete & click the trash button down by the scroller!)

8. coloring

coloring can be so much fun but so tricky! i personally use a base psd that i made for all of my gifs & then adjust it according to the gif i’m coloring but for this gif i colored it from scratch! so for most of my gifs i only color/edit them using levels, selective color, brightness/contrast, curves, color balance, & vibrance (in that order) to access these, go to layer > new adjustment layer > & then select whichever one you want to start with. 

1. levels

2. selective color

blacks: black +2

reds: cyan -9, magenta +1, yellow -3

cyan: cyan +100

3. brightness/contrast

brightness: 5

contrast: 6

4. curves

5. vibrance

vibrance: +16

saturation: 0

then you save it just like earlier by going to file > export > save for web (legacy) & you’re all set!!!! i hope this helps anyone who is trying to get into gif making & if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to reach out!!!!

[stonefreeak]

I absolutely love your chancellor kenobi series and am so grateful that you've written so much of it, you have sparked much joy for me. I wanted to ask your advice as someone who has written & published a large AU with many moving parts. How do you choose what order to publish things in? Do you have an outline that you stick to, do you publish as you write it, do you go with the flow?

Hello! Thank you so much, I'm glad to hear that you enjoy it!

Now, I could probably tell a few horror stories about how I was structuring my files and writing early on before @veilofadyingstar clowned on me enough times to get me to not write more than 5 different fics in the same google doc, separated only by headers (yes really), but I don't think that's very conductive to your questions, so I'll leave it at that, lol.

Chancellor Kenobi (CK) started as directly-into-tumblr ficlets. As in, I wrote everything directly into the text post editor and then just tagged it and pressed save and that was that.

It was also, early on, sort-of-not-really a prompt fic. Basically, I started by writing a ficlet on an idea, and then people wanted more of that ficlet, so they sent me asks. Sometimes they did manage to hit on what I imagined would happen, sometimes they didn't (in which case I would tell them what actually happened). I have so many asks still that I planned on replying to with a ficlet but just forgot, which is why my inbox currently has 156 messages in it, lmao (sorry everyone who sent me an ask!)

Back when this was the format CK was in, back in December 2016, I posted ficlets in whatever order I wrote them. I updated daily back then, sometimes even twice per day. After 10 days of this (so on the 13th, with about 10ish ficlets to the story) I asked if people wanted me to collect everything in a masterpost, which they did, at which point I had to go back and actually double check the order of events.

This was all so early on in the story that I just posted ficlets as I wrote them, haphazardly adding them into the timeline where they belonged, without caring about posting order at all.

I had an idea of what would happen, and as it grew more complex and I got further into the story, I realised that posting things out-of-order wouldn't be feasible anymore. The ficlets were becoming far too context dependent (because of the complexity and details of the plot) so even though I was still writing ficlets in the order of "whatever strikes my fancy", I now had to wait with posting until it was actually the next bit of the plot, this is when my updates started to slow down a lot, because yeah...

I started writing down an outline of events, but I never finished that, and I've since lost it lmao. So the actual plot, the story, the details... all of that lives only inside my head. I'm mentally keeping track of everything.

Which, honestly, I don't think I recommend that LMAO

After all, keeping it all in your head means that if you forget something, lmao, it's gone. bye bye

However, I did mention fairly recently that I'd done some organising of my files where I properly placed files out in order and name them, which now kind of works as an outline, lol (I use a writing subscription service for a gamified writing experience called 4thewords). However, there are a few blank files in between the named ones because I know I need more stuff in there in between the named events so it's not really a proper outline either.

So. I still write the fic out of order, which is something I can easily do due to the format I'm writing it in: interconnected ficlets as chapters. This means that I have ficlets that are far in the future of what I have posted, but they cannot yet be posted for the simple reason that the plot is now so complex that things need to be posted in order, otherwise it won't make sense.

As such, I no longer publish as I write, though I used to. At this point, the fic has grown too large and has too many moving pieces for that to be feasible.

Generally, I usually like to finish a fic before I post it, because that means that I can go back into early parts and edit them if need be (say I come up with something cool I need to foreshadow, or I realise that I mentioned something too early, or I realise I introduced a plotline I dropped so it's better to edit it out etc etc). That's not really possible with CK anymore (though, I mean, I guess I could go back and secretly edit stuff and pretend like nothing's up, lmao) so it's entirely possible that this fic has some inconsistencies etc (though I do my best to ensure there aren't any, there's always the risk I've missed something).

Writing CK and sharing it with all my readers has been an amazing experience, and I dearly hope people are not only willing to stick with me to the end, but also that they will feel like the pay-off was worth it.

For some people, finishing a fic before posting doesn't work because they need engagement to keep going, which is absolutely valid! For that, I think having a more structured outline is very useful in order to keep things clear and avoid accidental plot holes. It's no guarantee of course.

Ultimately, how you post and how you write comes down to you as an individual writer.

For me, it's rather flexible. Sometimes I write things in a strictly chronological order from start to finish and that's it. Sometimes I skip around in the story and need to make sure I leave very large empty spaces (metaphorical or literal) so I know where there's missing content that need to be written before the story is finished.

All of this is of course very much personal to me, and what works for one writer might not work for another. But I hope it gives you some help and some insight, perhaps.

Happy writing, anon!

[rockandroobuckaroll]

Shyan Mafia AU - Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my first Shyan fic, so any comments/notes would be helpful. I'm currently waiting on an email from A03 to make a new account, so when it's up I'll start uploading this there too.

A couple people asked about this too being @watcher-savage and @celestial-e I apologise in advance for my inability to write chapters less than 5000 words haha

This is a mafia AU where Ryan is a newbie in the mob, looking to gain protection. He’s sent after a guy known only as ‘Legs’ to take care of business... only things aren’t so simple as that. Ryan must lure this ‘Legs’ guy out to some place quiet... but he’s not the only guy in town who’s after him.

Life hadn't been easy for Ryan Bergara. He'd been on his own most of his life, not many friends and he had no family that he was particularly close with. Ryan didn't know what had happened to his parents or younger brother, only that they were six feet under and not by natural causes. It had happened one night when he wasn't home, instead he was out partying with his old friends from college. He'd come home to a sight that caused many sleepless nights, a sight decorated with shades of red that he could never wash out of his clothes.

Ryan had been a paranoid man from that night onwards, afraid he was next on the list and he would be murdered some day soon. It lead him to lead a sheltered life, shut away from friends and remaining family. If he was on his own maybe people would forget he existed entirely. Being alone kept him alive, despite the loneliness it brought him.

It was this loneliness that eventually brought Ryan to a decision that would change his life forever.

Ryan needed protection and he craved a family like the one he used to know and love, and there was a way to kill two birds with one stone;  he did have to admit he must have been crazy to come to the conclusion however. His dad was a wealthy, powerful man, he and his wife had ties to higher ups that they kept secret. Ryan knew they weren't just rumours made up by people in the street, after all he'd been at family dinners where strangers in sharp suits were invited, he'd overheard meetings and phone calls. It was certainly no secret to him that his family were part of the Californian Mafia.

During the day his dad was a humble dentist but by night he was out in a tailored suit, attending meetings and 'taking care of business'. Ryan's mom always joked that his dad was part of the men in black and that he used to go out and hunt aliens and as a child he had believed her. As he grew older and pieced together the truth Ryan thought it was pretty cool what his dad did, although that novelty came to an abrupt end the night they lost their lives.

It was a longshot, but he hoped that the men who used to come round his house for dinner would take him in, train him up, and give him the protection that he needed to sleep at night. He could be brave if he was in the mob, he had to be, and maybe he could finally get some sleep at night. If he couldn't all those years of shutting himself away would have been pointless and Ryan didn't ever want to admit that to himself.

That was how he found himself sat in a leather armchair in a small office, sat opposite a man he recognised from his youth. The man was much older now, hair grey and he wore glasses that weren't previously needed, but he still had the same believable kindness behind his eyes - though Ryan knew better than to trust that kindness.

"I'm glad you came to us Ricky, we can give you the protection you need." The elderly man sat behind the desk spoke, his voice smooth and soothing. He may not look it, but the man in front of him was the big boss of the Californian Mafia, overseeing the ins and outs of the entire organisation; he was known only as Father Thomas. He was a man no one wanted to cross.

"Um, my name is Ryan, sir." Ryan corrected him, realising afterwards that he probably should have known better. If the movies were anything to go off he shouldn't talk back to these kinds of people.

"Ryan, my child, you don't want to give out your identity to men who are going to use it against you. From now on if someone asks for your name, you tell them its Ricky: Ricky Goldsworth." The Father had a point, although Ryan assumed it would take him a while to get used to that alias - he would probably have to write it down. "You're new here and you want our protection... but not everything is free, Ricky."

"I'll do anything, sir." He was honest when he said 'anything'. Ryan wouldn't have resorted to the mafia if he wasn't willing to leave his old miserable life behind him.

Father Thomas leaned forward, elbows resting on the dark oak desk and his chin atop his interlaced fingers. "Anything?" He looked Ryan in his eyes, peering deep into his very soul. "Here's the thing, Ricky. I believe you when you say you'll do anything, I do... but I don't know if my good friends will be willing to back you up. So I've got a little job for you. It's a risky job, you'll be tested for sure, but if you pull it off I can make you very wealthy very quickly... and throw in a couple of trained assistants of mine to keep you safe at night." The Father leaned back again much to Ryan's relief and opened up one of the heavy looking drawers on the desk, pulling out a large, beige binder and flipping through before taking a page out.

The paper had a personal file, a photo attached with a paperclip at the top. There wasn't much known about him, no name to call him; only an alias was written down. "This here guy is a bit of a troublemaker for us. We've lost many good men to him, he's cunning and has a perfect record when it comes to his work."

"And you want me to..."

"To take care of business, yes." Ryan suddenly wasn't so sure. He picked up the photo of the man. He had dark hair slicked back and had a slender build. He was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt only half buttoned up and sunglasses covering his eyes. "We don't know all that much about this guy, only that he goes by the nickname 'Legs' and that he's extremely hard to catch. If you go after him your loyalty and dedication to us will be tested, naturally, as well as your skill and methods. I can't promise you'll ever come back though... so what's it going to be, Ricky?"

Ryan thought over carefully. He couldn't deny his heart was pounding so loud in his ears that Father Thomas could probably hear it, nor that his hands shook slightly as he held the photo. He was terrified of what this 'Legs' could do to him, or what he had done to others. He was also terrified of his own desperation. He was scared of how tired of being paranoid he was, how tired he was of being scared and alone. If things didn't work out and he ended up getting killed... would that really be so bad?

A snarky voice in the back of Ryan's mind told him he should have probably gone back to his therapist instead of paying the mob a visit, but it was far too late to listen to logic and reasoning now.

"Where was he last sighted?" Ryan bravely spoke up, gaining a small smile from the man in front of him. Ryan knew whichever way things went it would be a win-win for him - though deep down he had a feeling things were more realistically lose-lose, it wouldn't hurt to at least try.

"Yesterday in New Orleans, that's when that photo was taken." Ryan placed the photo down on the desk and looked over the rather empty file, he'd be going into this practically blind. "We've got an unused hotel in that area you can use to take care of him, one of my boys will give you the keys. We can get you a flight too, private of course."

"New Orleans..." It was a long way from home, although Ryan was almost glad of that. He'd only left his home state of California a few times and only ever as a child, on holidays and such. Hopefully leaving the state would do his mental health some good. "When's the flight?"

"We can get you in the air by six in the morning, you'll have all day to get your bearings and get to work." Ryan hadn't expected it to be so soon, although he supposed he didn't have to make up any excuses to anyone about where he was going. His job at the local theatre realistically wouldn't get him anywhere anyway and they could easily replace him in an instant. He had hoped one day to be making his own movies, or at the very least work on big productions, but it was a difficult industry to crack.

"Six AM..." He nodded to himself. "Okay... I'll do it."

Ryan was restless that evening, barely touching his bland microwave meal and constantly reorganising his suitcase, filling it with only the essentials and his best sneakers. He showered and sat on the edge of his bed beside his opened suitcase until early hours in the morning, going over what he had to do. The plan was relatively simple: find this 'Legs' guy, take him to the hotel and... it was the last step Ryan was having trouble coming to terms with.  He knew he would have to kill some guy he had never met. He probably had a family, maybe a wife or a child - at the very least he probably lived alone with a cat. Could he really do that? Could he really take someone's life?

He had opened his laptop and looked at Google Maps for a solid hour, trying his best to memorise the streets of New Orleans, the routes he would have to take to get to the old hotel the mafia had given him the key for. He didn't know how he was even find 'Legs', New Orleans is a big city after all, though he had been tipped about a diner that the man had been seen frequenting over the past few weeks so hopefully that was a start. Part of him hoped he never ran into him and that he would just have to live a quiet life in Louisiana, surely the deep south couldn't be all bad.

Hoping that he had everything memorised, Ryan decided that there was no point in getting any sleep now, he could just hopefully sleep during the three hour flight. He changed into something that would make him look like he was going on a business trip, something the guys at the office had informed him would be his cover up. If anyone asked him he was taking care of the hotel to prepare it for new ownership, that was all they needed to know. He settled on a silver suit and with a black tie, hoping he didn't look too affiliated with any gang; he didn't want to go over the top and wear a fedora with sunglasses, that was way too cliché.

By four in the morning there was a knock on his door and before he knew it he was on a private jet making his way to New Orleans. Ryan watched as the sleepy city slowly awoke, the sun slowly making it's way above the horizon. It didn't take long for his lack of sleep to catch up with him and a few minutes of resting his eyes managed to turn into him sleeping through his short flight. The next thing he knew was that he was being prodded awake by the pilot.

The pilot in front of him was a, quite frankly, dodgy looking, slender individual. His dark hair was greasy and slicked back and his eyes were just as dark as his hair. His skin was tan with little blemishes on his sunken face and his nose was crooked, his teeth matching the nature of his nose and were in desperate need of a dentist. He wore a pinstripe suit, black with thin cream stripes, over-polished shiny black dress shoes and a cufflink shaped like a red dice adorned the white shirt that peaked out from his slightly short sleeves. He was almost the complete opposite of Father Thomas.

"We're here." He sounded just as slimy as he looked, Ryan couldn't believe he actually fell asleep knowing it was only the two of them on the plane; he would be sure to check for any scars when he was alone later on to see if he had any missing kidneys. "You know what you're doing, right?"

"Yeah." A simple yet effective lie.

"Good. Then get off my jet." He ushered Ryan and his luggage out, the poor man still half asleep and aching from sitting in one spot for three hours. "If you by some miracle get the job done give Father Thomas a call, I'll come back and fetch you. Good luck."

With that hurried goodbye, Ryan was left on his own in a city he didn't know. He knew he should have been nervous, probably terrified given what he was supposed to be doing there, yet the only thing he felt was hungry. He'd skipped breakfast and barely ate any of his dinner the night before. He decided the best thing to do was find somewhere to get a bite to eat and ask around for any clues where to find this 'Legs' guy; Father Thomas had informed him of the perfect place.

Diners were always a hit and miss experience, although the small building that had been recommended by Father Thomas seemed to house a semi-decent establishment. It had a pleasant scent of coffee and bacon, mixed with a hint of pine from the décor. It was cosy, welcoming and much to Ryan's relief: empty. Not to mention, apparently 'Legs' had been sighted coming in and out of there all week. It was the perfect spot to start looking.

He sat at one of the barstools and looked up at the menu, mouth already beginning to salivate at just the stock photos of the food they served. "Hiya, hon, what can I get you?" A young, blonde waitress appeared from the beaded curtains, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes; a symptom of an early shift in the quieter outskirts of the city.

"Hi, can I get a black coffee and some pancakes please." At this point Ryan would eat anything, even if it came out of the trash.

"Sure thing, hon." She scribbled down the order and took the payment before pouring Ryan his coffee from the glass pot. The first sip burned his tongue but it helped wake him up a little. A few minutes later the waitress returned with a plate of pancakes drizzled in maple syrup with bacon placed on top: it looked picturesque.

"Thank you." Ryan remembered the manners his mom had taught him many years ago before shoving far too much into his mouth, closing his eyes as he savoured his first mouthful. Before he could ask the woman about places of interest that may attract mob guys or murderers (or both) the bell on the door rang, meaning another customer had walked in. Ryan didn't turn around to meet them, instead taking another sip of his coffee.

The customer sat two seats away from him, the waitress smiling at him the same way she had at Ryan. "Hiya hon, the usual?"

"Yes please." The man spoke in a quiet but kind voice, although his accent stuck out to Ryan. It wasn't that it was a strong accent, quite the opposite actually. It certainly wasn't from around here. "Thank you."

The waitress disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving the two men in silence. Ryan took another sip of his coffee as the man tried to start up a conversation. "Pancakes? Now that's in poor taste. It's waffles all the way." Ryan almost spit out his coffee - not at the comment but at the man's appearance.

This was the guy from the photo: this was 'Legs'.

"You alright? Don't choke." He laughed at Ryan, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he did. Ryan had to fight every instinct not to bolt out of the diner there and then. Here he was, trying to enjoy his breakfast and now all of a sudden he was having a conversation with a murderer... well, he would have to respond in order to have a conversation.

"Uh..." Ryan struggled to find the words to say. "Pancakes are way better." He settled on, 'Legs' shaking his head and turning back to the waitress as she brought him a plate of waffles before disappearing back into the kitchen. "Is that how you like to talk to strangers?"

"Oh, sorry..." He seemed to become shy all of a sudden as he realised his conversation starter had been a bit rude. "You don't sound like you're from around here. You here on business?" It was a fair question to someone who was dressed in a suit although Ryan could feel beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. Did he know? Could this guy sniff out someone in the mob at a glance? He was a professional from what Ryan had heard, for all he knew the guy had spotted the plane landing and followed him there, planning to kill him behind the diner.

"Yeah... something like that." Ryan cleared his throat and steadied his hands on his coffee cup. They had begun to shake, betraying him when he needed to remain calm.

'Legs' hummed a response and begun digging into his waffles. Ryan needed to think quick. He needed a reason to keep him around, not let him out of his sight. The hotel key Father Thomas had given him felt like it was burning into his leg like a beating heart under the floorboards, reminding him of all his troubles. He was starting to panic already. He really wasn't cut out for this despite his efforts to try and convince himself otherwise. "Hey, don't mean to sound rude but are you alright? You don't look well all of a sudden."

"I'm fine." Ryan's voice shook. Shit. He couldn't afford a panic attack. "I just need some air." Ryan stood from his seat and rushed out the door, his knees feeling like jelly. He took in a few deep breaths as he leaned against the wall, hoping he was just far enough outside that 'Legs' couldn't see him. Fuck. If Ryan couldn't even sit next to the guy and have breakfast and a friendly chat how the hell was he supposed to lure the guy to some abandoned hotel and murder him in cold blood?

"You want me to ask the waitress for some water or something?" 'Legs' poked his head around the door, "You gonna hurl, dude?" 'Oh great', Ryan thought begrudgingly: 'of course he's a nice guy'. No, no he isn't, Ryan had to remind himself. This guy has killed people.

"I'm okay." Ryan kept lying to himself, lowering himself so he was crouching down, his back against the wall. 'Legs' crouched down next to him, his hand on his back to try and comfort him.

"Just breathe, yeah? You're alright." 'Legs' seemed to recognise the signs of an oncoming panic attack. "What's your name? Have you got someone I can call?" 'Stop being so fucking nice', Ryan internally groaned. He shook his head, closing his eyes and just focusing on his breathing. "Okay, I'll stay here with you. Talk you out of it... uh, well shit I can't think of anything to say." He chuckled in such a nonchalant way that made Ryan want to punch the guy.

"Pancakes are better." Ryan managed to mutter in between breaths, deciding to just say anything to change the subject and take his mind off his paranoia. 'Legs' wheezed at that, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You believe what you wanna believe, man." He adjusted his position so that he was sat down properly, legs crossed in front of him. "You're wrong, but hey, opinions and all that baloney."

Once Ryan felt like he was going to be okay, that he wasn't going to have a complete breakdown in front of his future murder victim he looked up to the sky, still avoiding looking at 'Legs'. "My name's Ricky by the way... Ricky Goldsworth." Ryan needed to try and make acquaintances with him while he could; it would hopefully make the upcoming murderous meet and greets less awkward.

"Goldsworth?" He seemed intrigued by that. "Cool name." Ryan was glad he hadn't just seen straight through him immediately. "Nice to meet you Ricky." He held out his hand to shake, Ryan took it and tried to keep his grip firm despite his hands still shaking. He also had to play it off like he hadn't noticed that 'Legs' had completely avoided telling him his name.

"Your breakfast is gonna go cold." Ryan told him to try and change the subject. "Mine too... let's go back inside."

"You alright to stand? You looked a bit wobbly on your feet just now." Ryan was tempted to just put a bullet in the guys head there and then and get his suffering over with. Of course he ended up with the crazed murderer who just happened to be a total sweetheart.

"I'm fine. Come on." Ryan pushed himself up and lead 'Legs' back inside, the two taking the seats they were previously in. Ryan's coffee was still pretty warm and his pancakes hadn't quite turned to soggy mush yet.

"Sorry if I said something to set you off, by the way. I didn't mean to freak you out." 'Legs' spoke in a hushed voice, as though he was trying not to induce more panic into Ryan.

"It's alright... it's been a long night. I'm just on edge I guess." Ryan took a bite of his breakfast, he wasn't that hungry anymore but he also knew he would regret it later if he didn't finish it. "It's not your fault." Ryan took another sip of coffee to wash it down.

"Well, I don't know if you're free sometime soon but there's a nice bar in town, I was planning on going out tonight if you wanted to join me." That was the second time 'Legs' had made him choke on his coffee. He hadn't expected to be asked out by the guy he was supposed to kill. "Uh, well, you don't have to if you don't want to!" He quickly gave Ryan the option to turn him down, his cheeks bright red and he couldn't meet his eyes.

This was perfect. 'Legs' had practically signed his own death warrant... granted that Ryan could actually pull the job off. Everything had fallen into place however, he would be an idiot to turn it down.

"That sounds... that sounds great actually." Ryan tried not to sound so relieved that he didn't have to make up some bullshit excuse to stalk this guy without it being weird.

"Really?" God, Ryan felt like such an asshole. He wasn't stupid, he knew what was happening. 'Legs' was showing interest, he was inviting him out and was shy when he asked the question. Now 'Legs' was feeling immense relief that Ryan had offered to spend the night getting to know him. He was leading him on and wouldn't even get the chance to let him down gently. "Shit, I didn't actually expect you to say yes! I mean, on my part even I can say this is bad timing!" He was giddy like a child, not helping the sinking feeling in Ryan's stomach.

"I'm always up for a good time." Ryan played along to the best of his ability. This guy was digging his own grave without Ryan even having to try, he didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. "I've got to... there's this hotel I'm looking after at the moment. It's gonna be refurbished and I've got this job to basically check in and make sure none of the shit gets stolen. I can meet you after work if you want?"

"You're looking after a hotel? You're not gonna go all Jack Torrance on me and come after me with an axe, are you?" Even if it was a great movie he was referencing Ryan couldn't help but nervously chuckle at the irony.

"Wouldn't dream of it." 'Just drink your coffee and don't make eye contact Ryan', he thought to himself in desperation. He picked up his napkin and took a pen out of his blazer pocket. He'd childishly put it there in case he needed to go all spy-movie-action-scene and use the pen as a weapon, but he supposed using it for it's intended purpose would do for now. "Here's the address." Ryan had memorised it off by heart after fretting over his plans the night before. "Meet me about seven-ish?"

"Seven-ish." 'Legs' spoke aloud his mental note as he took the napkin and glanced at the address. "This isn't that far from the bar actually." That was lucky for Ryan, he wouldn't have to bring 'Legs' half way across the city just to kill him.

Ryan's plan was pretty simple, if not slightly manipulative - though he decided that if he was plotting to kill someone he would have to put his morals on the back bench for the time being. He would go out for a few drinks with 'Legs', get him to loosen up, bring him back to the hotel, lock the door so no one would accidentally wander in on his murder scene and then take care of him in the basement. One flaw he found with his plan was that he realised he still hadn't been told a name for his victim, not a nickname or initials: nothing. Ryan was starting to wonder if he was the one manipulating the situation, that he was the one in control... he had a feeling 'Legs' had his own ulterior motives behind inviting him out.

By the time seven rolled around Ryan almost felt sick with nerves. After preparing everything he needed in the hotel he was sat on the steps at the front door, staring at his blank phone screen in front of him to seem less conspicuous when he heard a call for his name - well, the name he had given out as a cover.

"Ricky?" Ryan looked up and smiled at the man before him. 'Legs' had changed out of the striped hoodie and jeans he wore that morning, he was wearing a dark blue shirt with red Hawaiian flowers on it which caught Ryan's attention. He'd never actually seen someone pull off a flower shirt like that and not look like a dad on vacation.

"Hey." Ryan stood up and climbed down the stairs, feeling slightly intimidated by the guy. He found it strange that he was wary of a paper thin guy in a flower shirt, but when put into the context that said guy towered over him in height he found himself feeling strangely inferior - that and he was a fucking murderer, Ryan had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

With a nervous breath 'Legs' gave a smile, "Shall we get going? The bar's down this way." Ryan smiled and nodded, following the taller man down the street

'Time to act your heart out' Ryan thought to himself, 'Play it cool, don't be suspicious'.

The bar was starting to fill with patrons though it didn't seem to be as busy as some of the others, Ryan was glad of that. The less people that saw him there the better. 'Legs' took the gentlemanly approach and offered to buy the first round, Ryan watching closely to make sure his drink hadn't been spiked before taking his first sip.

It had been a while since Ryan had been out like this, he had missed it if he was honest. The last time he was out drinking he... Ryan shook away the thought with a frown. He wouldn't think about that tonight, not now that he was about to cause someone else to find their family member brutally murdered.

'Legs' had noticed Ryan's frown and looked nervous, as though he was calculating the right thing to say. This night must have been important to him, he was trying so hard not to mess it up. Ryan felt immense guilt but knew he couldn't wallow in it all night. He needed the night to go well too, given that he needed to get him back to the hotel. He hoped it would be willing and not Ryan dragging him back kicking and screaming.

"Thanks for coming out tonight." 'Legs' started, talking over the music with his best efforts. "I mean, I really thought you were gonna turn me down."

"I needed something like this, I should be the one thanking you." Ryan wished he meant that, he wished he was just out on what felt like a date - it probably would have been considered one in Ryan's mind but 'Legs' still had neglected to give him a name. It was a sobering reminder that the man in front of him could very well have his own plans of murder. His nice guy act was so cliché anyway, serial killers were always known like that. It was the whole Norman Bates schtick, the type of guy who wouldn't hurt a fly, socially awkward yet charming. Ryan hoped he wouldn't get stabbed to death by this guy dressed as his mother later on, though it would certainly be an unexpected twist to his evening.

"Is it a tough life, looking after hotels I mean?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink, "Must get pretty lonely having all those rooms to yourself."

"Yeah... it can be." Ryan was used to loneliness, it was just part of his daily life by this point. He supposed if the whole hotel business was his real job he wouldn't think it any different to how he felt when he was sat at home on a Friday night watching movies all on his own rather than reuniting with his college friends and going out to get completely shitfaced. "What do you do, I don't think I asked?" Ryan hoped that question wouldn't scare him off.

"I, uh... I'm actually unemployed at the moment." He was avoiding eye contact again, Ryan knew he was lying anyway. "I'm here on a sort of midlife crisis, trying to see if I can make it on my own sorta thing... it's not going well." He laughed it off and took another, longer sip of his drink.

"You're on your own out here?" Interesting, that meant there would be no one around to search for him if he suddenly went missing. Ryan had interpreted him saying he was unemployed as he wasn't out on a job for the mob in New Orleans. He was just as alone out here as Ryan was. This whole situation just seemed so perfect, though he was wary of how careless it was on 'Legs' part.

"Yeah." Was his only response.

"You must be pretty lonely too then." Ryan didn't like to empathise with a killer, though he knew in just a few short hours he would be one himself. "Guess we can be lonely together." Ryan raised his glass, 'Legs' picking his own up and tapping it on Ryan's, the sound of the clink breaking through the music with ease.

Ryan had anticipated the night to go poorly. He had assumed he would be too nervous to drink or talk for half the night or perhaps for his date to figure out his true identity through some offhanded comment and ditch him or put a bullet between his eyes. What he hadn't expected however was to actually have a good time with him.

The two of them seemed to get along just fine, conversing in topics such as old shitty horror movies that were just charming enough to be enjoyable - or the ones that had practical effects so terrible they were actually hilarious to watch. 'Legs' had listened to Ryan ramble on about how much he loved Disneyland and hadn't been in years, in return Ryan tried his best to pay attention to some anecdotes 'Legs' had from an old D&D game he had played with his friends back in his hometown.

As the number of drinks piled up Ryan actually started to let his guard down, relaxing in his seat and laughing along at the dumb jokes 'Legs' cracked every other minute. He had to hand it to the guy: he was pretty funny. With his guard down he hadn't quite expected 'Legs' to smoothly place his hand over Ryan's as he was fidgeting with his glass, nor had he expected himself not to pull away quickly.

This was his chance.

"Hey... how about we drink up and get out of here, yeah?" Ryan suggested, 'Legs' quirking an eyebrow at him and downing the rest of his drink. "We can go back to the hotel I'm looking after, it's completely empty. It'll be just you and me."

"Lead the way."

The two of them headed out of the bar and into the cool night air, Ryan holding his hand and pulling him along through the crowd as to not lose him. The streets were bustling with the city's nightlife, the people passing them were either already drunk and loud or on their way to join in. Ryan really had missed this, the buzz of it all, but that wasn't what he was here to do, as much as he was hoping that maybe he could spend a couple nights with this guy, go out partying and make stupid decisions together. At the same time however, the last thing Ryan wanted to do was form an attachment; he was already getting dangerously close to that.

"Here we are." Ryan struggled to fit the key into the front door ten minutes later, mentally cursing to his past self for having one round too many. He hated that he'd actually had a good time with 'Legs' tonight. He hated how now it was over, now was the time where 'Legs' whole life was over. The price Ryan was paying to have protection didn't seem worth it all of a sudden, but he'd come this far... giving up now wouldn't sit right with him.

"Give me a room with a view, Goldsworth." 'Legs' put his hand on Ryan's hip, leaning into him and breathing against the back of his ear. It sent shivers down his spine. It took all he had not to throw his plans out the window and lead him to one of the rooms upstairs.

"Got a better idea." Ryan turned around to him. "You said you didn't want me to for obvious reasons... but what if I did go all 'Jack Torrance'? What I'm trying to say is I bet the basement is romantic as fuck." 'Legs' burst out laugh at that, his head dipping and eyes crinkling into thin lines as they had done many times that night.

"You know what? You've won me over." He let Ryan take him by the hand and guide him towards the heavy metal door that lead down a flight of stairs to a mostly empty room, just a boiler and some electronics  that Ryan had no idea the purpose for - probably a fuse box or something. The only light in the room was a simple bulb hanging from a chord on the ceiling, fitting for a room that was soon to house a murder.

The second the door was closed behind 'Legs' Ryan struck out, grabbing the pole he had set out earlier when he was rehearsing this moment over and over again like some crazed fanatic and striking the taller man on the side of the head. It knocked him out in an instant, 'Legs' dropping like a sack of bricks and tumbling down the stairs. Ryan winced, it looked like it hurt. 'Forget your fucking morals, man, you're trying to kill him'. Ryan stared down at his unmoving body from atop the stairs, his breathing heavy in his chest. It was terrifying to him just how easy that was, how simple it had all been. This poor guy was just looking to have a good time and now he was getting murdered for it.

Acting quickly, just in case 'Legs' woke up half way through, Ryan rushed down the stairs and grabbed the chair and the rope had set aside, hauling up the man's deadweight and tying him to the chair. He inspected the wound on his head, blood pooling around the edges but not gushing down like he had imagined it would in his rehearsals.

"Okay... okay, right... what now?" Ryan frantically looked around the room as if looking for clues. "Oh, gun, right." Ryan took the gun he had concealed under the boiler, dusting it off and checking to see if it was loaded. "Right... now wait for him to wake up I guess."

Ryan took the spare chair he had previously placed in the basement just in case things escalated and he had to knock him out with a chair instead of the pole, lucky the craftwork had stayed in one piece. He sat opposite 'legs', hunching over slightly and looking at the gun in his hand. It rattled slightly as his hand shook, looking out of place in his grip. Ryan knew this wasn't right, he knew deep down that this was only going to make his life worse but he was in far too deep now for retrospective analysis.

"Stop shaking." He whispered to himself, using his free hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He was panicking again. "Fuck..." He couldn't help but think about the last time he was panicking, crouched down outside the diner this morning. 'Legs' had been there for him then, a comforting presence that had managed to calm him down despite being the reason he was panicking in the first place. He felt like he needed that now.

As if on cue 'Legs' stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips as he struggled to find consciousness. He tilted his head up slowly with a wince, eyes squinting as he looked directly at Ryan. "Huh?" He struggled against the ropes he was tied to, looking at them in confusion as if he couldn't understand why he was now tied up. He seemed to wake up a little more after his brain tried to piece together what was going on, the tall man looking around with a pained expression before his eyes settled back on Ryan.

"Hey sleepyhead." Ryan stood up, putting his acting chops to best use. 'Whatever you say just make it intimidating' he repeated in his head like a mantra. "Have a nice nap?"

"Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded woozy, "What's going on... is this a kink thing or something? I'm not one to judge or anything but some consent would have been nice."

"Wha-" Ryan was baffled by the stupidity that had just come from this guy's mouth. A kink thing? This guy was a well known member of the mob who'd just been knocked out and tied to a chair in a basement like some sort of thriller movie cliché... and then he thought it was just that Ryan had a fucking kink? Not quite what Ryan had been expecting. "No, you idiot! I'm here to kill you!"

"Oh?" 'Legs' seemed to think that over for a minute before the somewhat humoured smile that had previously been on his face was wiped completely. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'." Ryan mimicked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought this was going to be a lot harder but you just walked right into this... you didn't even question me wanting to take you into the basement! Are you really that dense?"

"In my defence you hit me on the head pretty fuckin' hard." He groaned, almost as if he was trying to get sympathy. Ryan wouldn't take the bait, even if he did sort of feel guilty about it.

"That was after I lured you all the way out here!" Ryan's voice rose in both volume and pitch, holding the gun out and aiming it at 'Legs' head. "I thought mob guys were supposed to be fuckin' smart!"

"Mob guys?" Everything slowly clicked into place for him, he looked almost disappointed, but what he was disappointed about Ryan wasn't so sure. Maybe in himself for being so naïve or perhaps in Ryan for leading him on the way he did to turn out to just be another in a long line of guys that had come after him. "Right, so you're here to kill me then?"

"Yeah, I said that already." Ryan was trying his very best to be patient and take into account the guy had only just woken up after he bashed him round the head with a metal pole. "You're a ballsy guy, I'll give you that. I mean, just going out and partying in New Orleans knowing the Californian mob is after you? I can't tell if it's bold or insane!"

"Well I'm not in California right now, am I? I didn't think they'd be dumb enough to come around here with how high the tensions are between them and the gangs here in Orleans." So he did have a bit of common sense, even if his logic had been flawed. "That and I wasn't expecting the good looking guy in the diner to be some fucking mafia hitman or whatever."

"You think I'm good looking- wait, no. You're not going to flirt your way out of this!" Ryan jabbed the gun in his direction as if to threaten him into shutting up but 'Legs' didn't seem all that phased that his life was in danger. 'Definitely insane' Ryan thought to himself as he glared down at him. Who the hell stays so calm in a situation like this? This guy really is Norman Bates reincarnate. "And I'm not a hitman, I'm part of the Cali mob!"

"You are, are you?" 'Legs' seemed sceptical. "You don't look the part. I mean, you're way too short for one and that tough guy act is fooling no one."

"Man, fuck you! Just because you're as tall as a fucking sasquatch doesn't mean I'm short! Oh my god I cannot believe I was actually considering throwing everything I worked for away and just fucking you instead!" Ryan was aware he was trying to rile him up on purpose, but god dammit it was working like a charm. "Are you forgetting I'm holding a fucking gun here? I'm going to kill you! You should be begging for your life right now!"

"Oh, no, please don't kill me Mr Goldsworth." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Although, I mean, if you untie me I could pretend none of this even happened and we could just go upstairs and, y'know." He gave a conspicuous whistle rather than being as blunt as Ryan had been.

"You're insufferable." Ryan couldn't believe this was the same guy he went drinking with, the same guy he was starting to regret luring to the edge of town to kill. He was filled with enough aggression and adrenaline not to feel that regret anymore, but he still couldn't help noticing that his hand still shook slightly as he pointed the gun in 'Legs' face.

"I always thought you mobsters were supposed to be tough guys. You're shaking like a leaf."  'Legs' pointed out which only infuriated Ryan even more. "You really should work on controlling your emotions more, just shut 'em off, y'know?"

"Stop giving me fucking criticism!" Ryan growled, his fist balled at his side before he used it to steady his shaking hand. "I'm literally about to shoot you!"

"Well hurry up with it then, you're starting to look like some incompetent movie villain!" 'Legs' almost sounded bored, impatient even. Ryan figured the guy must be on some next level of crazy if he was practically begging the guy holding a gun to shoot him.

"Don't rush me!" Ryan clicked the safety off on his gun and held it against 'Legs' forehead, the taller man closed his mouth very quickly and his eyes opened wider. Ryan couldn't help but smirk at how quickly he turned his act around.

"Uh, Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded worried all of a sudden, a complete juxtaposition from how he was mere seconds ago.

"Oh, now you're afraid. Didn't take much for that tough guy act to fall through, did it?" Ryan felt proud in a way, proud that he'd actually succeeded in intimidating the guy. Maybe he had it in him after all? Maybe this whole time he had just been overreacting, overthinking. He had the guts to do this, all he had to do now was pull the trigger (after saying something badass like they did in the movies, of course) and it would be over.

"Ricky!" 'Legs' called out, an unmistakeable fear in his tone. "Look out, behind you!"

"Yeah, how stupid do you think I am?" Ryan scoffed, though his tune soon changed when he heard the sound of metal scraping along the floor behind him, something he imagined 'Legs' had heard before Ryan knocked him out earlier. He gasped, eyes widening as he remembered he forgot one crucial step in his plan: he forgot to lock the front door.

Before Ryan could even turn around and defend himself he felt something connect with his temple and the world turned to black in a terrifyingly quick instant.

So much for everything being too easy...

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Sleep Is For The Weak-- Malcolm Bright x Reader

Prompts; “If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” // “Why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this.” (from the lovely @witterprompts)

Warnings; tiniest bit of swearing, but that’s about it

Word Count; 1.6k

    Malcolm sat on his couch with a warm mug of tea in his hands. His eyes quickly bounced back and forth between the papers and pictures scattered across his coffee table. The recent case had been confusing. Many twists and turns made it difficult for him to pin an exact identification on the murderer, unlike what he had done with many in the past. This criminal, however, didn’t match any of his usual profiles. Each murder was different. There were no connections. It was driving him insane. 

    The detective practically leapt at his phone when it buzzed, desperately hoping it was a member of the team informing him with a new piece of the increasingly difficult puzzle they were all trying to solve. His brows furrowed when he read your name on the screen.

(Y/N) 3:15AM: sup bitch

     Malcolm rolled his eyes and tossed his phone back to the opposite end of the couch. He was rereading the case file for the millionth time when his phone buzzed again. 

(Y/N) 3:18AM: I know you’re awake, and it’s rude to ignore people ya know

     He sighed, turning his phone on silent. Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear his mind. You had known Malcolm since childhood, and you were with him through thick and thin. But he had guidelines on personal relationships, not allowing himself to get close to anyone. You understood. The man had been through hell and back, and you usually gave him the space he needed. You were used to not hearing from him for weeks on end, especially when he was working on a case. Tonight, though? That’s a different story. 

    Malcolm tensed when he heard another tink! come from the opposite end of his apartment. The noise had relentlessly interrupted his train of thought for the past ten minutes, and he was growing tired of it. He pushed himself away from the couch, carefully listening for the source of the sound. Malcolm frowned as he crept his way into his bedroom. The sound was caused by something repetitively hitting the large window. His brows knitted together. 

     Were those... coins? He stepped closer to the glass, peering down to the sidewalk below. Your face lit up when you realized that your plan had worked. Waving your arms around, you could practically feel the daggers Malcolm was glaring at you with. He disappeared from the window, and you scurried over to the door. 

    You wasted no time when he snatched the door open, bounding up the stairs and into his apartment. “Are you out of your mind? How long have you been standing out there?” Malcolm called after you. After trudging up the stairs and making sure the door was locked, he found you already rummaging through his pantry. You froze like a deer in headlights and flashed him a sheepish smile. “Bottom cabinet to the left of the stove,” he answered your unspoken question.

     “Ah! So, you did some reorganizing?” you teased. Pulling open the cabinet, you couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when you realized that he had dedicated a little place for all of the snacks you had left with him. You grabbed the box of hot chocolate mix and set to work. “To answer your questions... Yes, and I think about thirty minutes? Don’t know, my phone died after about fifteen minutes of trying to get you to answer. Then I just stood there for a while. I think people assumed I was homeless or something because they started giving me loose change, which I used to get your attention.” Malcolm raised a brow. He was obviously biting back a wise-ass comment. “Go ahead, let me have it,” you sighed. A light laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head. Malcolm crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.

     “No, it’s nothing... I was just going to point out that it’s a likely assumption, considering you��re in your pajamas and look like you were attacked by a flock of pigeons-- again-- though, without the feathers.” You gasped, punching his shoulder.

     “Those things are little demons, and you know it!” His head tilted back with laughter, and your annoyance disappeared at the sight. Malcom caught your gaze. You quickly looked away, returning your attention to the hot chocolate. He hummed, and a playful grin crossed his features.

     “If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” You scoffed. Pushing a mug of hot chocolate into his hands, you took a sip of your own.

     “No, it’s just...” You paused, shaking your head. “It makes me happy when you’re happy.” Awkward tension filled the room as you avoided his gaze. Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of how to respond. He sucked in a breath and took a few steps toward the living room, motioning you to follow.

     “So, tell me, what are you doing out this late?” Your shoulders relaxed at the subject change. You plopped on the couch, snickering as he shot you a warning glare. You knew very well how expensive everything in his apartment was, and you would never do anything to mess something up... but you liked to tread along the thin ice just to elicit a reaction out of him. ‘I really should be more careful. I don’t think he’s noticed the wine stain on the corner of his Neiman Marcus blanket. I mean, it’s not that bad. Just a small little splotch..” You blinked rapidly, dismissing the thoughts. Malcolm raised a brow but didn’t mention it. You took another sip of your hot chocolate.

     “I had a Freddy Krueger marathon. Watched all eight movies. I mean, why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this,” you groaned, rubbing your face. “Won’t be able to sleep for a week.” Malcolm snorted.

     “If I remember correctly, you always claimed that ‘sleep is for the weak.’”

     “And I am very, very weak,” you muttered, loudly sipping your drink to aggravate Malcolm. He rolled his eyes at your antics. You asked how the case was coming along, occasionally nodding as Malcolm ranted about it. You scooted toward the edge of the couch and peered at the photographs. You grimaced at the gore before knitting your brows together. You were beyond confused. They seemed... oddly familiar. A few moments passed before you started laughing. You gave Malcolm an incredulous look. “Ok, seriously, how did you know?” It was his turn to look confused. You rolled your eyes. “How did you know that I had watched Nightmare on Elm Street before I came over here?” When he didn’t reply, you leaned back into the couch with a groan. “Come on, Malcolm! I caught your prank. Admit it already. These pictures aren’t from your case, they’re from the movie.” Malcolm’s face paled as a dozen emotions flashed across his features. He grabbed your wrist, urgency running rampant in his wide eyes. 

     “Tell me what you mean. Now.” Your jaw slacked, but you quickly nodded and set your hot chocolate aside. The playful atmosphere quickly gave way to dread. You had him arrange them in order of who had been killed first. Your stomach sank as he rearranged them, not wanting your silly theory to turn into reality. When he gave you a nod, you cleared your throat and pointed at each one as you spoke.

     “Everyone highly resembles the characters from the movie. She looks Tina, who was killed by Freddy slashing her with his knife-glove-thing. He looks like Rod, who was hung by Freddy. He looks like Glen. Glen got killed because Freddy flung him up in a fountain of blood? I don’t know. It was weird.” You paused, brows knitting together. You had Malcolm unlock his phone since yours was dead, and you began Googling a picture. “This was the last victim of the movie, Marge Thompson. She got smothered after Freddy was set on fire.” Malcolm snatched his phone from you, jumping to his feet. He paced through the living room. Everything was falling into place, and he was finally able to set a profile. He suddenly stopped pacing and laughed. It wasn’t out of humor, but out of victory. Malcolm looked to you with a bright smile, pulling you up from the couch.

     “You’re a genius!” He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling in your chest. You were about to make a quip about him saying you were out of your mind earlier that night but got interrupted before you had the chance. Malcolm had broken the embrace, only to press his lips to yours. You hardly registered it was happening before you melted into his touch. He pulled away and held his breath, eyes searching your face. You smiled and cupped his cheek.

     “As much as I’d love for this moment to last longer, I think you should probably call Gil before somebody gets fired-- literally.” Malcolm’s eyes widened as he nodded. He grabbed his phone on his way towards the door. He paused, standing in the doorway. 

     “Will you be here when I get back?” A smirk quirked the corner of your lips.

     “Where else am I gonna go? My phone’s dead, so I can’t exactly call an Uber.” Malcolm snorted, shaking his head. He glanced at you from over his shoulder. Your gaze softened. You had known Malcolm long enough to read his expressions. He wasn’t just nervous about getting rejected. He was afraid that he might be loosing your friendship because of your actions, and he had already lost enough in his lifetime. “I’ll be here.” You caught Malcolm’s face brightening before he disappeared down the stairs. 

~*~*~

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[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

It’s time we talk about SimsDom again.

Most of you probably already know who and what Simsdom is but for those that don’t, Simsdom (or SimsDomination) claim to essentially be a CC finds website, which in essence I suppose they are... But don’t get your hopes up for a Lana replacement because they are SO much more than that. And not in a good way.

I know this is an old subject, and most people probably thought it was all over and done with, but Simsdom is still around and what’s worse is that I’ve noticed a growing trend among my fellow Game Changers who create content for Youtuber and Twitch/Mixer of promoting the site by using it to do CC shopping haul videos and streams, which is encouraging their viewers to use Simsdom. I’m not going to name names or point fingers but it made me realise that maybe some people don’t understand just how bad Simsdom is for the community in general, but especially for the amazingly dedicated CC creators of Simblr. And it’s just so disappointing to see people that some many in the community, including myself, look up to promoting this garbage site!

If you’re curious to know why this is a problem, I’ll explain under the cut. If not, keep scrolling... But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If you visit the Simsdom website (which I’ve purposely not provided a link to because you absolutely shouldn’t visit it) you’ll notice a whole bunch of custom content is available there, more than likely you’ll even find quite a bit from some of your faves like @peacemaker-ic​, @nolan-sims​, @storylegacysims​, @crypticsim​, @renorasims​, @savvysweet​ and MANY more. My stuff is even on there as well and if you’re a creator, the chances are high your stuff is too; whether you want it to be or not.

But don’t be fooled, myself and most of the other creators whose content appears on their site did not give permission for our content to be shared on there. In fact, most of us have specifically asked Simsdom to remove our content from their site. I say “most” because there are some people who willing uploading their content there (god knows why). The easiest way to the tell the difference is to look at who posted the content. If you see this:

That content has been shared by a bot, without the creator’s permission and more than likely against their many requests that Simsdom NOT share their content. If it says the name of the actual creator instead of “Exchange”, that creator uploaded it themselves.

You might also ask why anyone would care if their content was shared on a CC finds blog, after all, it means more traffic to our blogs and content, right? First of all, whether it brings in more traffic or not, is beside point. These creators have specifically requested Simsdom not share their content and they have been ignored, disrespected, threatened, and harassed. Simsdom claims that their users make up 30-90% of Tumblr creators traffic, but I call bullshit. I check my Google analytics every single month for traffic coming in to both my Tumblr and Blogger from Simsdom and I can tell you that LESS THAN 1% of the COMBINED TOTAL traffic from BOTH BLOGS comes from there. And when you understand how they operate, you’ll understand why that is.

- UPDATE -

In reference to Simsdom’s response to this post, they linked 5 creators that they claim meet their crazy statement that their site provides creators with 30-90% of their traffic. So I just thought I’d point out some interesting facts I noticed while looking at those sites.

One of those sites is dead; literally, it doesn’t exist anymore, if it ever even did. Another, @simiracle​, is a fellow Game Changer who reblogged this post, so I’m guessing they don’t have support there. And the other 3 are alpha CC creators, none of whom have ever uploaded any of their CC to Simdom, nor have they ever mentioned Simsdom on their sites in any way. However, all three earn money on their own content via either adfly, adsense, patreon, or some combination of the three; my guess would be they wouldn’t be too happy to find out Simsdom is making money off them too.

You see, Simsdom might sometimes link back to the original creators site, but often times they don’t. I’ve noticed quite a bit of the content of my own on their site directly links to the file on SimFileShare, completely bypassing both my Tumblr and my Blogger. This might not seem like a big problem, but what about if the creator has put specific instructions, requirements, or notes on the original download page that if the downloader doesn’t read could result in broken/unusable CC, or worse, a broken game?

- UPDATE -

In reference to Simsdom’s response to this post, they linked to SimFileShare’s page on SimilarWeb and claimed that I was lying about direct-linking to my files there because their site does not appear in the list of referring sites. What they failed to mention is that that list only shows the TOP 5 sites that link to SimFileShare regularly. There are still 385 other sites that aren’t shown and can’t be seen without having an account with SimilarWeb. Convenient, huh?

I also said they only direct-linked SOME content. With my content it was only about 4 or 5 things out of the 15 or so they have on their site and I didn’t check anyone else’s stuff but I have heard other creators say the same thing. So of course they’re not going to show up in the top 5 if it’s only SOME links.

But wait, there’s more.

Anyone downloading from their website without an adblocker is forced to wade through potentially harmful ads as well. Notice the blue button that says “download” at the top? That’s not a real download button and if you click it, it will instantly begin shoving pop ups in your face claiming you have a system error or that your local law enforcement agency has detected illegal activity from your IP. Yes, I clicked it. There is nothing of importance left on my HDD (it’s all stored safely on an external drive that isn’t connected to the PC at all) because this drive has been slowly dying for weeks and I’m destroying it tomorrow and replacing it with a brand new one, so I decided to take a chance.

These ads, which are on pretty much every page of Simsdom, are what’s called “Ransomware”, and it’s whole purpose is to distract you with fake pop up “warnings” when you click on it so that you don’t realise it’s actually downloading a very harmful file to your computer in the background. It’s designed to be next to impossible to close the pop ups, so that even if you somehow became aware of the download happening, you couldn’t get past the pop ups to stop it before it’s had time to finish downloading and automatically begin running it’s payload when it’s done.

What payload? That’s the scariest part, you won’t know until it’s too late. It could be something as simple as a trojan that will force your PC to mine bitcoins, which is still harmful because these mining trojans are resource hogs and put a massive strain on your CPU. Or a trojan designed to target and encrypt specific files on your computer (usually sensitive ones) and demand you pay a literal ransom (usually either in bitcoin or pre-paid cash) and if you don’t, your files will either be complete erased or leaked.

Or worse still, it could be something even more sinister such as a key-logger; a piece of spyware that is designed to track and log EVERY. SINGLE. KEY. you touch on your keyboard. So every password you use, every online banking key code you enter, all the conversations you have via Discord, Twitter, Tumblr, or any other form of instant messaging, that fanfiction you’ve been working on that you are too scared to show anyone in case they think you’re a pervert, your credit card and bank account number you use to shop online, what porn you look for, even your Google search history (regardless of if you’re incognito); all of it will be no longer private and in the hands of someone who could use it to steal your identity, empty out your bank accounts, charge thousands of dollars worth of goods to your credit card, or expose every little strange thing you do on your computer that you thought no one would ever find out about, unless you pay their ransom.

Scary huh?

Also notice that those Get Famous recolours I made don’t say that they actually require Get Famous? Why is that a problem, you say? For most people it’s not, you see “Get Famous Recolours” and you automatically know you need Get Famous to use them, but what about people who are new to using CC and don’t know that for my recolours to work you need the pack they came from? Yeh, that’s a problem, because that particular download is one of those ones that leads straight to SimFileShare:

It leads directly to the merged file, which is NOT the only file available for download in that set, just the largest. But no one who finds my content on Simsdom will ever know that will they? Nor will they read the part of the download page that clearly states Get Famous is required to use the recolours.

I hear you saying “But adblockers are a thing”. Yes they are, but that doesn’t solve the issue of them linking straight to the file. And also, here’s what happens when you try to download something from Simsdom with an adblocker enabled:

You’re forced to wait 180 seconds before the download button appears. THREE WHOLE MINUTES in which you cannot move from that page or the counter will stop, and it will only restart when you go back to that page and stay there for the entire three minutes. Even Adfly isn’t that gross.

So, all of that isn’t enough to discourage you from using this vile site you say? Well, let me introduce you to the person/people who run the site. There are plenty of examples floating around Tumblr of how disrespectful, arrogant, immature, and disturbing the owner/s are (just search for “Simsdom” and you’ll see) but here’s just a few posts showing “receipts” of what happened to creators when they ask for their content to be removed from the site: Here,  here, and here.

They have threatened to doxx several creators, tried to blackmail others, threatened to shut down some people’s sites, and even actually refused to remove people’s content unless they say “please”; as though these creators are six year old children who need to learn a lesson for not wanting THEIR content on someone else’s website!

All of this was said AFTER they made a post on their Tumblr saying they would respect creators wishes to not have their content on their site. I myself had a run-in with them as well but I don’t have the receipts because as soon as they finally agreed to remove my content (after almost 4 days of arguing with them and being threatened several times) they blocked me... and they continue to share my content to this day. That’s part of the reason why my motivation to create has been so low lately; I know its just going to end up over there, locked behind a paywall making money for these disgusting people and tricking simmers into thinking they have to pay to access my stuff.

But back to the story! Once they realised 99% of Tumblr creators — the people they get most of their content from — were going to ask to have their creations removed however, they changed their mind and instead started refusing to remove content. In fact, if you go to their website and use the contact form and choose the option “Remove my Content” they literally ask if you are Tumblr creator or not, and if you say you are, this is what you get:

And that “Our Rights here” link? That leads to this nonsense that literally contradicts itself with almost every single sentence:

“Creations can’t be uploaded without the creators permission... but we do not need permission to share your creations” “Feel free to contact us to ask to remove your content... but actually don’t bother contacting us asking to remove your content because we won’t” “SimsDomination is a free website... We don’t steal any content... *literally has other people’s free content locked behind a paywall and charges people membership fees to remove said paywall*”

And as for the EA terms part... I have news for you Simsdom, YOU are the only one breaking EA’s terms of use by putting content behind paywalls. I’m an EA Game Changer, I have actually read the terms of use AND spoken at length on the topics of earning revenue from CC, and why paywalls/memberships/exclusives are against EA’s terms of use with the Sim Gurus, have you? Didn’t think so.

If you had, you’d realise that we are allowed to earn revenue from our CC by having ads on our blogs/sites provided they aren’t deceptive — you know, like that ad with the big blue button you have that shows up on every single page of your site — and don’t lead to anything malicious, which yours do. I clicked several of the ads on your site and they all either lead to disgusting 18+ websites, started producing ransomware pop ups like I described earlier, or tried to download a mysterious file called setup.exe to my computer (which was most likely a trojan as well). We are also allowed to earn revenue via donations and Patreon early access systems provided the content is also made available for free to the general public within 14 days.

We are not, however, allowed to lock content behind Patreon exclusives, memberships and paywalls such as Adfly; which is exactly what you are doing. Like Adfly, you are not only potentially exposing underage children to 18+ content and risking the safety of people’s PCs, but you are also forcing them to wait to click a link and charging membership fees to avoid having to wait to download said content that isn’t even yours; content that you have been asked REPEATEDLY to remove. That is the very definition of a paywall. It is NOT the same as Pinterest or Facebook AT ALL, they might have ads but they aren’t malicious and they do not force people to wait to view content.

- UPDATE - 

In reference to Simsdom’s response to this post, this is probably one of my most favourite Simsdom lies, because it never changes but it’s so easy to prove false! “Users don’t need to pay to download any content and don’t need to wait to download them” Oh really? Shall we take a look at your site on the old SimilarWeb that you love so much?

How strange. If you don’t make people wait, then why do you need adfly? And if no one has to pay, then why do you need premium memberships to get rid of the ads and wait time you don’t have? Odd.

Also, lets talk Adsense. I never said I had a problem with you having ads on your site; I said I had a problem with the TYPE of ads on your site. If you seriously don’t think your ads are in any way harmful, I’d suggest you take another look at your Adsense, because either it’s been hacked or you seriously don’t know what you’re doing. Oh, but that’s right, “Google will never display suspicious ADs“... Mmm hmm, you just go right on believe that. Yeh, it’s definitely not possible for Google to be hacked... Nope, definitely not.

Also, if you use your Adsense revenue to pay for your site.... what happens to the extra? Because based on your SimilarWeb page I can take a rough guess at how much you earn every month through Adsense alone and there’s no way your site costs that much to run. For that matter, where does all the extra revenue from Adfly, Short.st and this mysterious “other” go? And all the revenue you get from your premium subscriptions that you totally don’t charge people money for?...

Is that fish I smell?

You are not doing anyone any favours here, so stop pretending that you’re in this for anything other than money. Stop sharing content you’ve been asked REPEATEDLY to remove/not share and breaking EA’s and many creators TOUs!

If you’ve managed to make it this far, congrats lol I know this has been long and probably boring but thank you for taking the time to read the whole thing. All this post was meant to do was explain why people should not support Simsdom, and why I’m so disappointed in other Game Changers for promoting it, but it kind of got away from me a little.

Oh well, now you know what Simsdom is and why I will NEVER support them or willingly allow my content to be shared on their site. And if you do decide to still use their site, just... please be careful. My content will always be free and safe to download, just like the majority or CC creators here on Tumblr. Don’t pay for something you can get for free from the original source.

Also, if you’re looking for a Lana replacement (aka a good CC finds blogs that isn’t shady af like Simsdom) check out @maxismatchccworld!

- UPDATE -

This isn’t in relation to anything specific, just the situation as a whole. It seems Simsdom has just removed the search box from their website completely:

I’m sure it was totally legit reasons and not at all because they didn’t want anyone searching for their own content on the Simsdom website. Just like it wasn’t for that reason the last time too...

[awhitehead17]

My Best Friend’s Brother

Jason & Tim, TimKon, Robin!Jason, Stray!Tim, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Humour, Teasing, Blushing, Friendship. 

Summary: Jason thinks they could work together, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there. Making a decision he starts making plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

A/N: This is an AU where Jason is Robin and Tim is Stray. All you probably need to know is that Jason is with Tim's Titan's team, (he hasn't died), also that Jason and Kon are best friends. This is crossing off 'Villainous Crush' from my Batfam bingo card. 

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“I don’t think I can do that.” Robin says shaking his head as he stares at the security footage in front of him. “I mean I’m good, don’t get me wrong, but that is beyond my capabilities.”

“What do you propose then?” Wonder Girl questions him with a frown. “Who else is there that has the ability to bypass security as tight as Luthor’s undetected?”

Robin crosses his arms and gets thinking. The security they need to get pass is top level and the most advanced stuff Jason has ever seen. They’ve been able to hack into the cameras but that’s as far as they had manged, beyond that was just a dead end and none of them could do it.

What they need to do is access a hidden vault underneath Lexcorp because it’s storing away some crucial files full of delicate information. What that information is Jason wasn’t sure, however when Superman gave them the mission he made it quite clear that is was to be done asap.

One person soon comes into mind. This particular person could have the skill to get pass the security where they can’t, who would be able to sneak their way around everything without getting caught but was also skilful enough with technology that they could hack into the system if needs be.

He’d rather not ask them for help but really it’s the only option he can think of. With a sigh, Robin turns to Wonder Girl. “I know someone, so leave it to me. As much as I hate to admit it, they probably could get through the security and laugh about it at the end.”

She raises an eyebrow and demands, “Who?”

--------

“My, my little birdie, it’s been a long time! Did you miss me?”

Their voice comes out sounding rather distant from the phone’s speaker, almost like they were outside. Despite how quiet it sounded, there was no mistaking the teasing tone behind their words.

Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally counting down from 5 before responding. “It has been a long time Stray. I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

“Of course I haven’t! Who do you take me for?” Stray says with a disbelieving snort, like he couldn’t believe Jason just asked that question.

The present Titans were all gathered around the kitchen table with Jason’s phone in the centre of it, currently on speaker to the costumed vigilante called Stray. Jason glances at his team mates to see most of them raising eyebrows at Stray’s words, Cassie’s face was stony cold, like she absolutely loathed this idea. Jason wasn’t a fan either, but it’s all they got.

Jason knows who Stray really is, but his team doesn’t. Stray was Gotham born and bred, they met on the rooftops and bonded (Jason may or may not have become protective of him during that time, not that he could help it). They’ve stayed in touch and occasionally help one another out when needs be, hopefully Stray will be willing to help Jason on this occasion.

Before he could say anything more, Stray’s voice was coming through the speakers again, this time louder like he has stopped and actually put his phone to his ear to talk into. “I’m guessing this isn’t a pleasure call Robin, which is a shame. What do you want?”

“I – we, the Titans – need your help with something if you’re willing. Are you available in the next day or so?”

“Hmmm, it depends. I may be free to help you, that is saying if I even want to help you, however I may not be. What is it?”

Jason rubs a hand across his head feeling frustrated. Stray really isn’t making this easy. “By passing security in Lexcorp to get to a vault. We won’t be able to do it without triggering the alarms, you on the other hand may be able to. If you agree then I’ll meet you and share the deets, if not then it’ll be until next time.”

There’s a moment of silence, as if Stray is thinking through his options. After a few beats his voice comes through the phone again, “If I do agree to help you, what’s in it for me? Jewels or money? Perhaps some of that nice fancy tech Luthor happens to have laying around all the time? A date with my favourite birdie?”

Jason ignores his friend’s wide-eyed looks and focuses only on the phone, “We can discuss that afterwards. Are you in: Yes or no?”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Stray agrees sounding sort of resigned, “message me where you want to meet and I’ll be there. See you soon birdie!”

Jason doesn’t bother with a good-bye, he simply reaches over to grab the phone and hangs up. Still ignoring his friends expressions he tells them, “I’ll arrange a meeting with Stray for this evening and make a plan from there. I’ll keep all of you updated as I go.”

After that he leaves the kitchen and ignores the questions being fired at his back in favour of retreating to his room. He really hopes it wasn’t a mistake contacting Stray.

It was early next morning when he meets with Stray. They meet down by the San Francisco docks away from any cameras, any prying eyes and in complete privacy.

Jason stands waiting around with the trained patience that’s been drilled into him from his early days as Robin. That’s the only reason on why he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing with restlessness, unlike his companion who’s decided to tag along with him.

To his side Superboy paces a few feet backwards and forwards with boredom, sometimes he walks it and sometimes he floats it. Jason wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it was rather amusing to watch.

When Jason announced his meeting time with Stray, Superboy insisted on coming, stating that someone else should tag along just in case something happens. Jason had wanted to protest but the Kryptonian looked determined to come and he couldn’t remember the last time he and Kon had actually been alone together. Considering they’re supposed to be best friends, they don’t actually hang out a lot.

Kon lets out a huff and comes to stand by his side. The half-Kryptonian crosses his arms and looks around impatiently. “Where is he? He’s supposed to be here by now right?”

Just for his own amusement, Jason doesn’t bother pointing out that Stray has actually been around for the last 10 minutes, simply hiding in the shadows watching them. He’s surprised that Kon didn’t pick Stray up with his enhanced powers.

“You should come over sometime man,” Jason says conversationally instead. “It’s been a while.”

Kon’s scowling expression turns into something softer at the mention of hanging out, he sends Jason a smile, “That’ll be good yeah. I’ll have to kidnap you at some point and take you to the farm, Ma’s been asking about ya.”

Jason shoots him a small smile. He likes the farm and always enjoys visiting the Kent’s, a weekend away doesn’t sound too bad actually.

Deciding he’s had enough, Jason turns to a shadowed covered alley nearby. “Alright Stray, enough is enough, come on out. We have business to deal with.”

He ignores Kon’s squawk of surprise in favour of watching Stray saunter towards them. The vigilante was dressed in his full gear which consisted of a tight dark grey leather suit (which could easily rival Dick’s Nightwing spandex) from the neck to his legs, flexible black boots and gloves, a small black belt tied around his waist with a whip hanging loosely from it, on his head were two cat ears and sliver googles with black lenses covering his eyes.

He has no idea how Stray wears the suit, it contours every muscle he has and seems like its going to rip if he stretches just that little bit too much. It never does and Stray wears it without an inch of discomfort.

Stray walks up to them, and Jason certainly doesn’t miss the way he eyes Kon up and down, until he’s a couple feet away. He smiles widely, showing his teeth. “Hello boys. How’s it going?”

Under his domino mask, Jason rolls his eyes, pointedly ignoring the almost flirtatious tone being used. Next to him Kon was staring wide eyed at Stray, barely moving a muscle.

In that moment he knows something was up, this here was the start of something. With the way Stray had his head tilted just to the side so he could look at Superboy (Jason couldn’t see his eyes but he’s known Stray long enough to know his tell-tales) and the way Kon was openly staring without a care in the world.

Jason very loudly, and obnoxiously, clears his throat to gain their attention. “Matters to attend to thank you very much. Important files we need to steal before they land into the wrong hands. Remember that?”

They both turn and blink at him but otherwise don’t say anything. Rolling his eyes Jason digs through his utility belt and brings out a small electronic tablet which he presents to Stray.

“This is the security we need you to break past.” Robin tells him. “There's a vault at the end, we haven’t yet worked out what kind it is but chances are that you’ll probably know how to break it anyway. What do you think?”

Handing Stray the tablet seems to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into while staring at Superboy. He grabs the thing out of Robin’s hand and studies it. Jason patiently waits, knowing he’s studying the black and white security footage, going over what is visible to the eye before looking deeper and finding all the hidden secrets.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Stray declares handing the tablet back to him after a moment.

Jason raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? So you’ll do it?” He honestly hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“Send me a copy of that footage and the details of the building, from there I should be able to get in and out. I can have the files you apparently need by sunset tomorrow, or today if you want to get technical.”

“What do you want for it?” Robin questions suspiciously. There’s always a catch somewhere.

There's a pauses as Stray looks Kon up and down once more before turning to him with a wicked smirk, “Keep it open as an IOU. Once I’ve decided I’ll let you know gorgeous.”

Without further words, Stray turns and disappears back into the shadows like he was never there in the first place. Jason takes a deep breath and shakes his head, that kid he swears…

The silence soon catches up to him and he shoots Kon a look. His best friend was still staring at the recently vacated spot. Jason waves a hand in front of his face. “Kon?”

Kon blinks and finally turns to him, as if coming back online. “That was Stray?”

“Yes, that was Stray. The annoying little brat I call my younger brother who I reluctantly asked for help because it boosts his ego like nothing else. Why, didn’t you know who he was?”

“Yeah, I, uh I-” Kon stutters for a moment as if looking for the right words. “I’ve heard of him but never seen him until now. That was him? How old is he? Is he even legal? Did you see those hips, jeeze… wait you said little brother, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!”

Putting the tablet back in his belt, Jason turns and starts walking away, heading back for the Tower since it was late. Kon rushes to meet his stride and together they walk.

“He’s a younger brother I never asked for, not by blood but in every other way that counts. We met on the streets in my early days as Robin, much to my annoyance I came to care for the little brat and here we are years later. We occasionally help one another out when needs be.”

Kon gapes at him for a moment before spluttering out a question. “What’s with the leather? I mean I get you bats and your spandex but leather? There’s no way that’s comfy, and with how much it shows…”

Jason scowls at his friend, feeling a little protective. “Don’t perve on Stray -”

“I’m not perving!”

“- he just likes to flirt. He gets kicks out of everyone around him being a blushing mess.”

What Jason doesn’t mention is that Stray is only that confident in the suit. Outside of being Stray, the kid behind the persona is nothing but shy, sweet and innocent (if a little annoying).

Kon seems to have nothing else to say after that, if he does he keeps any other thoughts to himself so the rest of the journey back to the Tower was quiet and uneventful.

The next day a small box parcel appears on the Tower’s doorstep. After scanning it and triple checking that it wasn’t any kind of bomb, they open it up to find the files they had been after from underneath Lexcorp. All that there was in the box beside the files, was a sticky note with a handwritten message on it saying: Remember birdie, IOU, I’ll let you know what I want gorgeous.

Upon reading that Jason sighs and shakes his head. He mentally curses out Stray for putting him in the awkward position of explaining to his team that no he and Stray were not in any kind of relationship and how Stray just likes to flirt with everyone.

Jason quickly explains why they’ve never met the vigilante before, that reason being because Stray was also a thief and can be unpredictable at times. Despite Jason’s brotherly relationship with the brat it’s still a risk to work with him, he never wanted to get Stray involved with the Titan’s from the beginning.

After some more questioning his teammates seem to eventually accept the explanation and leave the matter be. However, Kon wouldn’t let it go, he kept pestering Jason for more information. Did Jason know who he really was? What was his age? Why was he a thief? Would he want to join the Titan’s anyway? Was he single?

Jason glared at his friend for that question and refused to tell him anything.

--------

It turns out it wasn’t too long until Kon ended up meeting Stray again. A couple weeks after the Lexcorp mission, Kon decided to stop by Gotham to hang out with Jason only for them to come across a battered, bruised and bleeding vigilante later on.

Jason was on patrol when Kon found him, and not having the heart to tell his best friend to go away (who cares about Bruce’s no meta’s rule anyway?) he let Kon tag along for the rest of the night. Once they were finished the plan was to go back to the Manor to chill with some video games and some of Alfred’s delicious snacks.

It had been going well as they had stopped several muggings, a few drug deals, a couple of lurking johns and even a small gang war. It wasn’t until they were about to head home when their plans suddenly changed.

From where they had been in an alleyway, sudden gunshots could be heard from nearby. Not wasting a second, Kon lifts up off the ground, grabs Jason’s outstretched hand and flies them over the building into the alley on the other side.

They get their just in time to see a body fall backwards onto the ground and someone making a run for it at the entrance of the alley. Without even speaking, Jason instantly rushes over towards the fallen body while Kon goes after the runner.

To Jason’s surprise its Stray he finds lying there on the ground groaning with his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder.

Diving into his utility belt for medical resources, Jason hisses. “What the hell did you get yourself into Stray? You idiot.”

His voice seems to get Stray’s attention. The kid gives him a pained smile, “Just y’know, an average night. Fuck.” After a moment he seems to remember something because he’s bolting up into a sitting position and looking around frantically. “Where is he!”

Jason pushes Stray back down and keeps him still with a hand on his chest. Ignoring the weak struggles and protests, Jason examines what he can of Stray’s wound. He could see that the bullet is still in his shoulder but he can’t say if it’s hit anything vital. They’ll have to get him back to the cave for scans and proper treatment. In the meantime, Jason slaps a bandage over the wound and keeps pressure on it.

“Robin to the cave, anyone there?” He says into his comm.

While he waits for a response Superboy appears with an unconscious body in his hands, that being the man who had made a run for it moments ago.

“This is Agent A, Robin. How can I assist you?”

“I’m with Stray, he’s just taken a bullet to the shoulder and it’s still in there. I’m bringing him back to the cave, can you get the medical bay ready? ETA 10 minutes.”

After getting off the comms he turns to Superboy who’s body posture was awkward but his eyes were trained on Stray’s limp body. “Superboy.”

It takes a moment but Kon seems to snap out of the trance. “Huh? Sorry. The police are on their way, what shall I do with…” he gestures to the unconscious man still in his grasp.

Jason huffs as he quickly digs out a pair of handcuff from his belts and tosses them to Kon. “Tie him to the lamp post. I need your help with Stray.”

Kon does just that and reappears at his side seconds later. “We’re taking him to the cave, I want you to carry him there and keep pressure on that wound. The bullet’s still in there. Agent A will be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t wanna go to the cave… I’m fine….” Stray mutters from his position on the ground. His words are beginning to slur and his movements are sloppy.

Kon hesitates. “What about Batman?”

Jason waves his concern off. “Don’t worry, I can deal with him. Now go before anything else happens. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Jason makes it to the cave a lot later than what he would have liked. He had to wait around for the police, explain to them what had happened before he could finally start making his way home.

By the time he got the cave, Stray was already trying to leave and was arguing with Alfred about his condition, while Kon was standing to the side looking awkward and unsure on what to do. Stray was currently only dressed in the bottom half of his suit, leaving his torso and bandaged shoulder for everyone to see. Much to Jason’s surprise, he didn’t even have his ears or goggles on which helped conceal his identity.

As Jason walks from the garage to the medical bay, he observes the scene. It was rather amusing to watch the younger boy try to argue to Alfred why he’s fine and doesn’t have to stay the night to be observed and how he’s continued on with much worse. Stray is fighting a losing battle and they all know it.

Kon, on the other hand, was rather interesting to observe. The meta was standing in the medical bay but to the side, watching the scene before him with wide eyes. While the Kryptonian seemed to be in shock, Jason could also see how Kon’s eyes run over Stray’s body, the way they linger at his chest before moving up to stare at his identifiable face.

Jason is pretty sure Kon doesn’t know who Stray really is. He has made it clear that he’s attracted to Stray and is curious enough to want to know more about the thief but beyond that he’s never done anything about it. On the other side of the coin, he knows Stray is eyeing up Kon in a similar fashion. Behind the flirtiness, he’s a shy boy who wants to get to know Superboy more and secretly gets flustered at the thought of the meta.

Perhaps Jason needs to introduce them on a more solid and neutral ground? Stray is like a brother to Jason and Kon is his best friend, would they even work? Does he want to start something like that between them, or simply help them get their shit together so he doesn’t have to be stuck in the middle anymore?

He’ll have to have a think about it.

“You are staying the night and that is final!” Alfred declares firmly to Stray who was now pouting from his position on the medical bed.

Jason snorts as he enters the room and goes to Stray’s side. Poking the younger boy in the ribs, he says, “Look, it’s just for one night. We can hang out, have a good catch up while we play crappy video games and sleep until noon tomorrow. Then you can go.”

The glare he receives makes Jason cackle. Once he’s calmed down he glances at Alfred, “Thanks for patching him up Al!”

Alfred merely smiles and starts bustling about to get everything cleaned up. He turns to Stray next, pointing a finger at him, “I’ll see you upstairs in a moment. I’m just going to walk Superboy out of here.”

He turns to Kon to find his friend still staring at Stray. Rolling his eyes, Jason clicks his fingers in the meta’s face and grabs his attention. He cocks his head to the side and starts leaving the medical bay, “Let’s go lover boy!”

Kon stutters for a moment before rushing to catch up and he grins when he sees Kon’s flushed face. Jason walks with Kon to the end of the cave, thanking him for his help that night but also apologising that their plans to hang out weren’t happening. He does a rain check for when he’s next at the Tower and promises that they’ll spend time together while he’s there. Looking a little sullen, Kon nods his understanding but doesn’t push the matter. He takes off up in the air and quickly disappears into the night sky.

As he heads back, Jason starts making mental plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

--------------

“So what was it that you needed to do again?” Kon questions him as they climb a fourth set of stairs.

Jason glances over his shoulder from where he was ahead of Kon, guiding them through the apartment building they were currently in. “I got a message late last night from a friend, asking me to pick something up from his place. Figured I’d stop by while out with you since we were passing through the neighbourhood.”

“Makes sense.” Kon comments a moment later.

They don’t talk again until they were standing outside an old wooden, beaten door after climbing six flights of stairs. Jason knocks on the door and patiently waits for the occupant to open it up.

“This friend of yours,” Kon drawls looking at him, “are you guys close?”

Does he know about your night activities? Jason picks up the double meaning of the question. He smiles at Kon and says, “We’re actually really close, yeah. But sorry about this, it shouldn’t take too long.”

He doesn’t mention to Kon that in fact this was all planned by him. The message to come and collect something from his friend was planned, because Jason in fact purposely left said item here the other night just so he would get the message. Meeting up with Kon and having him come along just out of ‘coincidence’ was all part of it too.

A sound coming from the door opposite them gains their attention. They both turn to it as they hear locks clicking and a chain being rattled. Soon enough it opens up to reveal a small teenager dressed in an oversized hoddie and leggings.

“Hey Tim, how’s it going?” Jason asks with more enthusiasm than necessary.

It was like he was watching it all in slow motion, that moment when the kid opposite him realises exactly what Jason has done. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open at the realisation of it before his expression becomes dark where his eyebrows drop, his eyes glaring daggers at Jason and his lips pressed into a tight thin line.

While Tim glares at him, and is probably imagining the most painful way he could kill Jason, Jason turns to Kon just in time to see his best friend also click onto what he’s done. Kon’s expression goes to one of shock as his eyes flicker between Tim and Jason.

“Wait, you’re uh, you’re-”

Kon doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying because Tim was suddenly hissing at Jason. “You asshole Jason!”

Tim backs away from the door and promptly goes to slam it shut and it’s only thanks to his quick reactions that Jason catches the door before it hits the doorframe. He barges his way into the apartment and turns to Tim grinning at him. Tim wasn’t paying attention however, the kid was now glaring at Kon who stared back and slowly inched his way into the apartment. Despite Kon being invulnerable and one of the most powerful people on the planet, he seemed rather intimated by Tim.

Once they were both indoors, Tim then slams the door shut with a loud bang. Crossing his arms over his chest he turns to Jason with a scowl. “What is the meaning of this? You of all people know how important identities are!”

Jason hums and starts wondering around the small apartment. He leaves the hallway they had been in and adventures into the joint living room and kitchen area. It was there on the coffee table that he sees the files he purposely left behind the other night.

Tim marches in behind him with Kon following soon after. “What the hell are Selina or Bruce going to say about this?”

That makes Jason blink and pause. He hadn’t thought about that. Oops. He shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I can work around them.”

“How? How are you going to get around one of the best thief’s and the world’s greatest detective?”

Jason doesn’t answer, mostly because he doesn’t actually know. Thankfully he’s saved from any more scolding from Tim because his best friend speaks up.

“So your name is Tim?” Kon suddenly asks from his spot by a sofa. The meta still had this wide-eyed look on him, like he really couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yes.” Tim snaps at him. “You better not tell anybody either!”

Jason forces the smirk off his face as he sees the kid blush red. He knows this is about to get interesting and is more than happy to watch how this plays out between them.

“Really though? Tim? Tim is Stray, the cat thief who likes to wear skin-tight leather while on the job and oversized jumpers in his downtime.”

Tim’s glare hardens and it looks like he wants to deck Kon there and then.

“Just because you’re invulnerable doesn’t mean that I still can’t hurt you!” Tim threatens Kon, with a pointed finger to emphasise his point.

For someone who had been intimated by the person now threatening him, Kon now looks completely unperturbed. It was like learning his name was ‘Tim’ made him less terrifying. “Uh huh…” Kon hums looking at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

Tim enters Kon’s space and pokes him in the chest to make a point. “I will throttle you.”

“And I bet you’ll like that, wouldn’t you?” Kon grins, winking at Tim.

Jason couldn’t help but snort at Tim’s face. If his shocked expression in the hallway was golden, his shocked expression now was totally palatium. It’s like Kon flirting with him has made Tim freeze and buffer, like he doesn’t know how to handle it or what he should do next.

Tim was speechless and Jason laughs at the sight. However he does wonder where Kon suddenly found the confidence to flirt with Tim, especially since he seemed so unsure at the start. He knows Kon’s had his time with beach babes in Hawaii, but this is slightly different.

After several beats it seems like Tim finally comes back online because he’s suddenly shouting, “Get out, now. That’s it! Get out, the both of you!”

Jason was still laughing, even more so because Tim is now as bright as a tomato. “What, don’t like the tables being turned Timmy? Receiving the flirting and not giving it for a change?”

He didn’t even see Tim move, so when the kid is suddenly in his space and shoving his files into his hands, Jason stumbles backwards a couple steps to keep his balance. Seconds later hands start shoving him out towards the hallway and towards the front door.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay,” Jason resigns. He’s had his fun and embarrassed Tim enough for one day. He walks out of the apartment and into the corridor of the building, seconds later Kon joins him. When the door slams shut behind Kon, they share a look and burst out laughing.

They don’t talk as they exit the building, both of them giggling right up until they’re out on the street and back out in public.

Kon takes a breath to control himself and shoots Jason a sideward glance as they walk down the street. “Dude, what was that all about?”

There were so many hidden questions within that one question. Jason picks them all up easily. Why did you blow his secret ID? Why did you take me there? What are you up to? He doesn’t answer any of them. Instead he snorts in disbelief and waves a hand around. “Oh please, I’ve done you both a favour.”

From there he refuses to answer any of Kon’s queries on what just happened. Things were building up between the two of them, Jason’s simply helping to jump start things along. After seeing them in there earlier, he thinks they could work, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there.

He’s got his own questions he wants to ask Kon, like where did that confidence suddenly come from? What happened to being intimidated by Tim? Before he starts grilling his best friend however, he figures he’d give Kon some time to mull over what happened today and then he’d pin him down to get some answers.

--------

Jason was done for the day. All he wanted to do in that moment was go to his room, have a long hot shower before changing into some comfy clothes and climbing into bed to sleep for the next three days.

But no, he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t allowed to do that because he had to go and find Kon, who was in the Tower somewhere, and get his report he failed to hand in after the latest mission. Cassie was getting on his back about Kon’s tardiness and it was getting on his nerves. Jason wants to argue that he’s not Kon’s babysitter! Why should it be him who has to chase the half-Kryptonian for reports he’s responsible for?

Either way he’s on his way to Kon’s room in the Tower, figuring that if Kon wasn’t in the kitchen (he wasn’t) then he would most likely be in his bedroom. When Jason reaches the right door, he taps his knuckles against it and lets himself in, he only happens to walk two steps in before he’s freezing on the spot because of what he’s seeing.

There on Kon’s bed were two figures in what seems to be an intimate position. Jason could see Kon on his back on the mattress (thank god he was fully clothed!) with his head propped up by some pillows. Above him with his legs on either side of Kon’s hips, was a familiar smaller figure dressed up in tight leather.

The two of them were currently playing tonsil hockey as hands roamed each other’s bodies. It wasn’t until a low moan comes from one of them that Jason comes back to himself and actually registers what he was seeing.

“What the fuck!”

The two figures startle at his outburst and split apart. Tim sits fully upright and looks his way while Kon blinks owlishly at him from his position on the bed. All three of them stare at one another for several long beats, waiting for someone to break the heavy silence.

In the end it was Jason, repeating his outburst. “What the fuck!”

“Oh hey birdie. Enjoying the show?” Tim smirks at him. He didn’t have his ears or goggles on meaning Jason could see his face. Meaning Jason could see how amusing this all was to him.

Kon on the other hand seemed to be on the other end of the scale. He brings his hands up to cover his face with embarrassment and groans. “This is not how I wanted you to find out!”

“Find out what?” Jason scoffs disbelievingly. “That you and Tim are finally boning?”

“Well technically we haven’t gotten that far, yet.” Tim drawls out, stroking a teasing finger along Kon’s chest.

“Right.” Jason says. Deciding that he’s seen enough, he starts to turn around so he could leave. “Well have fun, use protection and Kon, Cassie wants that report done asap.”

Just as he was about to shut the door, Tim speaks up and Jason shoots him an unimpressed look for making him stay longer than what was necessary. “Why are you acting like that? You wanted to get us together to begin with anyway. Did you want to join in?”

Jason blinks and takes a moment to comprehend what he’s just been asked. “No! What the fuck? That's my best friend there and you’re like my brother you flirtatious asshole! And yes I was trying to set you two up but that doesn’t mean I want to see it!”

Before anything else could happen Jason makes a quick exit. Unfortunately he still wasn’t quick enough because he hears Tim shout “You know where we are if you change your mind!” just before he shuts the door.

He shakes off what he just heard and tries to erase those images from his mind. He blames Cassie. If she didn’t want that stupid report then he would have never walked into Kon’s room and seen that. It could have been worse where they were naked but that’s not the point!

Well, he knew something was going to happen between the two of them and now they’ve finally gotten their shit together. Once Jason’s done getting over it, he’ll interrogate Kon all about it later on. They’re best friends, he deserves to know all the nitty gritty details and how dare he leave Jason in the dark.

Stray on the other hand wouldn’t actually tell him anything, either because of embarrassment or out of spite, it would depend on what mood he was in on the day.

It looks like he’ll be having quite interesting conversations with two people very soon.

[voiceless-terror]

Proficient in PowerPoint (The Magnus Archives)

Summary:

“Why are there so many animations?” Jon tapped his foot impatiently through the unnecessarily arduous process of getting to the next page. “I’m not a child. This is for Elias, not a primary school.”

“I thought they looked nice…” Martin said softly, shuffling his feet. “I can take them out, if you’d like-”

“They’re wonderful Martin, don’t listen to him."

Jon has to make a presentation for Elias. Sasha, Tim, and Martin help, with dubious results.

“It’s standard procedure, Jon. Every new department head does a presentation.”   “But I-” Jon left off with a sigh. Being called up to his boss’s office at the beginning of the day to be informed that he would be making a presentation to all of his intimidating colleagues (and superiors, if he were being honest) was not the way Jon wanted to start his Monday. Besides, what was he going to say? How could he explain this mess of an Archive that was currently under his command? That he didn’t really know what an Archivist did, and that when he googled the position it didn’t seem anything like what Elias had described? He might as well get in front of the room, announce his resignation and go home. Somedays this felt like the best course of action.

 He’d heard the whispers following the email announcing his promotion to Head Archivist.  “Him?”  was said more than once. A few scoffs, a few appraising eyes from the other department heads who were all at least a decade older than him. Even Sasha and Tim had given him a sort of silent treatment, only speaking to him in short sentences and one-word answers in the weeks that immediately followed.

Elias seemed to sense his unease. “It doesn’t have to be long. Just a rundown, a simple assessment of the Archives as they are and what you plan on implementing during your tenure. Perhaps a little about you and your team. Introduce yourself. Everyone’s eager to learn a bit more about you.” Jon very much doubted that.

 “Well the Archives, in my “assessment,” are currently a mess.” His candor was not appreciated. Elias was not amused.

 “A mess that you’re going to fix,” Elias gave him a withering glance. “I assumed you could handle this, but if that’s not the case-”

 “No, I-” He sighed again, the only sound he was capable of making. “Al-Alright. You said it was this Friday, correct?”

 “Yes!” Elias gave him a brief smile and ushered him out of the door with a hand on his shoulder, signaling the conversation was over. “Let me know if you have any issues. Not that you will, of course.”  Of course.

 The door shut behind him and Rosie gave him a sympathetic look from her seat. “You hang in there, alright? You’ll do just fine.” Either Jon looked that pathetic, or Rosie truly did eavesdrop on every conversation.

 Perhaps a bit of both.

 __________

 It was Wednesday evening and Jon was staring at a blank screen.

 Everyone else was packing up for the day while he sat in his chair, stewing over what words to write. He should be recording statements like Elias  wanted, not putting together some bureaucratic nonsense so the others could ‘get to know him and his plans.’ He didn’t really have a plan for the Archives besides digitization, and even that was going disastrously. Should he even mention the tapes? He’d likely be met with scorn and laughter. Elias may find them promising, but anyone who took one look at their equipment said otherwise. Google told him that he should share fun facts about the team but that seemed highly unprofessional. Who cared that he liked to watch documentaries in what little spare time he had? Instead, he’d written a very bare-bones outline of what he’d like to say but for some reason typing it out was impossible. The only thing he’d managed to get was a layout and font in neutral, unobtrusive colors. This was very important to him. 

 “Still stuck on the presentation, Jon?”

 Sasha was leaning against the doorway with a gentle smile on her face. She knew how hard it was for Jon to get his thoughts together sometimes and was always a sympathetic ear when it got particularly bad. She seemed to have finally settled into her role (whatever that may be) and was talking to him more and more. Though no one in the department had any experience in archiving, Sasha at least had more concrete ideas.

 “Yes, I’m just-” he sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his temples to ward off the approaching headache. “I’ve got no idea what he wants. What is a ‘rundown’ and how can I have one with the Archives like...this?” He gestured to his mess of an office, currently drowning in paper and cardboard boxes.

 “Well, what do you have so far?” Jon grimaced and handed over his notebook, filled with messy scribbles and half-finished ideas. Sasha skimmed it and made a few promising noises; Jon hated the part of himself that sought her approval. She finished and looked up with a grin. “How about you let me have a go at it? You know I love this sort of thing, and then you’ll have some time to record that statement tomorrow, hm?”

 “I-really? Would that be okay? I don’t want you to have to- I mean, it’s my job.”

 “I’m your assistant, Jon,” she interrupted with a placating hand. “So let me assist you!” Her offer seemed very genuine. Jon was loath to ask for help or admit to trouble even in the best of cases, but Sasha had a way of wearing him down with one well-placed smile. He decided to take the hand offered. 

 “Thank you, Sasha. Really.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a grateful smile, glad for any progress made on the project.

 “And it’s no problem. Really.” She tucked his notebook into her bag and gave a cheerful nod.  “I’ll show you what we come up with!”

  ______

Jon yawned into his fist for the fourth time in an hour. The Amy Patel statement wouldn’t record on the computer so unfortunately he brought out the tape recorder. For some reason every time he recorded to tape he came away exhausted and anxious, unsettled by the words he spoke. Luckily he managed to get to the follow up recorded without too many interruptions- usually one of his assistants would come banging on the door and he’d be forced to start over for the sake of professionalism. 

 “Knock knock!” 

  Speak of the devil.  Tim grinned at him from the doorway, Martin standing close behind him.

 “Yes?” he asked shortly, straightening the files on his desk. “Do you need something?”

 “Your presentation, as requested!” Tim bestowed upon him a flash drive with much pomp and circumstance. “You’re welcome.”

 “Oh! Er, I thought I gave that to Sasha?” He looked in surprise at the device before him. He wasn’t expecting them to actually finish everything- he also wasn’t expecting anyone but Sasha to help him out. If Tim and Martin helped out as well... “I’ll uh, check it out in a few moments, thank you.

 “But I want to show you now, boss!” Tim’s voice reached the whiny pitch that he knew Jon loathed. He sighed however, and plugged it in. After a few moments a window popped open, with a file labeled  Jonny’s First Work Presentation.  He rolled his eyes while Tim snickered.  I’ll need to change that before the meeting…

 The file looked...hellish, to say the least. Jon spied on the first few slides a strange and ugly gradient background that faded from bright green to black, along with garish rainbow WordArt. He was almost afraid to click on anything, lest it blind him or inspire a seizure.

 “It’s really best viewed in slideshow mode,” Tim nudged Jon’s hand out of the way and made it so, the full screen now proudly showing the title page-  Jonathan Sims’ New and Improved Archives!!   Martin and Tim leaned in over his shoulder, the latter clearly excited to showcase his work.  That’s never good.

 “That’s far too many exclamation points, Tim.”

 “There are never enough exclamation points, Jon.”

 The next slide came in with a sort of shutter effect that did nothing to minimize the horrendous resizing done on the Magnus Institute logo, which had been stretched to fit almost the entire page and was unrecognizable due to pixilation. Jon gritted his teeth. “This is unnecessary.”

 “Wow, everyone’s a critic,” Tim rolled his eyes.

 “I-I can probably find a logo with better resolution,” Martin offered timidly. Jon had almost forgotten he was in the room. 

 The next pages were not much better- the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition of ‘archive,’ the audio pronunciation for it had a page to itself. There were several collages of books and artifacts (these looked handmade, as if someone had copy and pasted several finds from google images). Jon felt his anger grow with each laborious click. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Where was Sasha? “Is there anything of actual substance in this?” he asked, huffing as the current slide disintegrated out of view in a dramatic fashion.

 “God, so impatient! We’re building up to it.” A few more clicks. They got to a page covered with cartoon ghosts and nothing else. “Watch this!” With a click the ghosts all flew away, a clunky piece of animation that revealed  Jonathan Sims’ Plan of ATTACK!!

 “I did that one,” Martin announced in his ear with not a little pride.

 The ‘plan of attack’ included bullet points (which were also little ghosts) regarding the new digitization and accessibility project in clear, cogent prose which must have been the work of Sasha. The rest, however- random paragraphs about ‘synergy’ and ‘dynamic team players’- was clearly unsalvageable and designed to make him the laughing stock of the institute. 

 “I can’t...this is unusable, Tim!”

 “Keep reading! There’s good content there. God, there’s no accounting for taste these days, is there Martin?” Martin did not answer. What could Martin have said? Each page was worse than the last- the current slide had only a picture of what looked to be an ancient Egyptian scroll and nothing else.

 “This is the definition of unusable.”

 “No it’s not!” Tim argued though he was on the verge of laughter. He was smiling, clearly enjoying the entire scenario. “Look, I even put a ‘Meet the Team’ section-” He clicked through the slides, each piece of text gliding across the screen in an obnoxious star pattern. 

 “Why are there so many animations?” Jon tapped his foot impatiently through the unnecessarily arduous process of getting to the next page. “I’m not a child. This is for Elias, not a primary school.”

 “I thought they looked nice…” Martin said softly, shuffling his feet. “I can take them out, if you’d like-”

 “They’re wonderful Martin, don’t listen to him,” Tim had finally reached the first slide of his ‘Meet the Team’ section. Instead of starting with Jon it began with an incredibly large photo of Tim, smiling and winking at the camera.  Naturally.

 “Tim Stoker: A Gentleman and a Scholar,” Jon read aloud. “I’m not saying that. And shouldn’t we be starting with me? I ask for one thing-”

 “I saved the best for last, of course! Martin, you’ll  love this,” Tim began frantically clicking through animations, taking a full minute to get to Jon’s slide. “Ta-da!”

  Jonathan Sims: The Man, the Myth, the Legendary Archivist

 It was a picture of Jon from a happy hour years ago, smiling broadly with half-lidded eyes and sprawled across the bar in a state of disarray. He had a vague memory of Sasha snapping the photo before he fell to the ground and vomited everything he drank.  No no no no  - he attempted to slam down the laptop screen before Martin could see but the damage was done. The man was red and stuttering, clearly embarrassed for Jon. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. He contemplated his options- double homicide or self-immolation. Both seemed equally appealing in the moment. 

 “Please leave,” he fumed, his own face a tomato red as he stared at the floor. “Now.”

 “Aw boss, don’t be like that-”

  “Now!”  Two sets of footsteps scurried from the room as Jon threw his head into his hands.

 He had quite a bit of work to do.

 _____________

 Of course he scrapped almost all of it, keeping only the informative parts that Sasha had written.  This is why you should do things yourself. ‘Assist’ my ass. 

 Jon had kept the door closed for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring both the plaintive apologies from Tim and Martin and Sasha’s insistent knocking. He wanted to blame her for letting the other two get involved, wanted to yell and stamp and maybe throw a thing or two. But it was  his  job. He shouldn’t have left it all to them.  Lazy, incompetent, his mind raged but the words were aimed at himself. Perhaps that’s why they sabotaged the slideshow, to tell him they weren’t going to do his dirty work. Hazing the new boss.  Did they realize how important this was to him? Did they even care? He already looked like a fool- why not double down on it?

 He took the ‘Meet the Team’ page down, his fingers angrily punched the ‘delete’ key for every picture and turned it into one slide with only their names and positions.  That’s all they need to know, really.  He managed to throw together a few slides on a new organizational system and something about research follow up, but it all rang false and hollow- any academic would see right through this bullshit attempt. Even the digitization slides seemed trite- why was this his first order of business?  What the hell are you doing?

 It was late into the night when he finally finished, though the presentation was nowhere near what he wanted it to be. The clock informed him it was only ten though, so he still had some time before the last train. He was just going to rest his eyes for a minute and then he’d get up and go.  Just a minute...

  ____________

And then it was tomorrow.

 Fuck.  Fuck! 

 Jon woke up with his head pillowed in his arms and his back almost completely immobile. He squinted at the clock-  7:00 AM. He tripped down the hallway and into the bathroom to freshen up, splashing cold water on his face and cursing under his breath. How embarrassing to be caught in yesterday’s clothes- if he switched out his sweater vest for a blazer, they might not notice. His wardrobe was nothing if not consistent and boring. His hair tamed into some semblance of neatness, Jon went on to his next stop, the break room for a cup of coffee and then finally, back to his office to survey the finished product and perhaps do a few run-throughs.

 He settled in his seat and pressed the power button to coax his laptop out of sleep. The clock on the wall ticked a steady, droning rhythm that somewhat calmed his racing heart and he took a sip of coffee, savoring the bitter flavor. His eyes flickered down to the screen- still black. He pressed it again. Nothing. He looked to the side of the computer, noticing the lack of power cord.  Oh, it’s not plugged in. That’ll do it. He solved that problem quickly and tried again.  

 Again, nothing. He pushed it harder, hurting his finger with the intensity behind it. The screen remained black.

 It was then that Jonathan Sims screamed.

 _____________

It was nine in the morning and he still had no idea what to do. No amount of coaxing, either through nice words or obscenities had managed to wake it up. He removed the battery and put it back in. He prayed to several gods, none of which he believed in. He kicked the desk and promptly fell to the ground, screaming in pain. IT didn’t come in until ten, and his meeting was at nine-thirty. He was well and truly fucked.

 But then he heard footsteps coming down the hall and he dashed to meet them, hoping it was the person he needed. And it was.

 “Sasha!” he panted, taking in heaving, gulping breaths. “Help!”

 “Oh God Jon, is this one of your asthma attacks? Do you have your inhaler?” Her eyes widened and her hands fluttered nervously. ‘I’ve told you-”

 “No,” he grabbed her by the shoulders, feeling more unhinged by the moment. “I-I lost it. The PowerPoint. My laptop won’t turn on, and-”

 “Breathe, Jon! That’s no trouble at all. I can get into your drive, no worries!” she said, pushing him into a chair and booting up her laptop. Jon put a hand to his chest, attempting to follow her advice.  See, it’s fine!  “Where did you save it? On your ShareDrive or on the general Archives one? I’ll need your credentials if it’s the former.”

 His heart dropped.  No no no no. He’d done the one thing Sasha had always warned him against.  “I-I saved it to the desktop…”

 “Oh Jon.”

 And that's when he spiraled. He was going to have to walk into that meeting, hands empty, and face the firing squad. Elias will know he should have never hired him and everyone there will nod and agree that the stupid boy who couldn’t do one simple task does not belong at the table with the rest of him and Jon will be sent on his way, back to research if he’s lucky or fired if he’s not and he can’t do one fucking thing right-

 “Jon. Jon!”  Sasha had a hand on his shoulder, firm and grounding. “Fucking  breathe. It’s fine, you’re fine! Here.” She slipped the flash drive from yesterday into his hand and he groaned, attempting to pass it back

 “I can’t use that one, you know I can’t-”

 “No, this one’s different, I promise,” She grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I tried to tell you yesterday- I’m sorry about all of that. It wasn’t funny. We fixed it.” She seemed honest, sincere. But Jon was still hesitant, taking in shaking breaths.

 “This isn’t a joke?”

 “I swear. Here, use my laptop.” She passed it over and Jon paused, considering his options, which were few.

 So Jon took the flash drive and laptop and left, ignoring Martin’s greetings as he brushed by him on his way up to the conference room.  Here goes.

 _____________

 “Erm, h-hello,” Jon coughed, clearing his throat. “I’m Jonathan Sims, the new Head Archivist, as Elias...already said, I guess.” He let out a nervous laugh which no one returned. Elias nodded, urging him to go on.

 Jon had made his way to the room with fifteen minutes to spare, giving him some time to boot up the computer and load the presentation. A quick, nervous glance let him know that it was much changed- at least the first few slides. He shook hands with each department head as they came in, trying to see which of their smiles and congratulations were sincere. The answer? Very few. This was not comforting. 

 His hands shook as he clicked his way to the first slide, his heart pounded in his chest to reveal-

  Bringing the Archives into the 21st Century- A Plan for Updating and Digitizing the Institute's Statements

  Well that’s not bad at all.

 He began to speak, his voice gaining clarity and confidence with every sentence. The presentation was lovely- incorporating his preferred neutral color scheme, a great improvement on the nauseating colors of before. The animations were minimal and sleek, making the transitions meld seamlessly from slide to slide. There was a bit introducing Gertrude’s past work and a dig at her filing system that earned him a laugh. There were new slides regarding the preservation of documents, a new organizational structure, the introduction of a database. All ideas they’d briefly spoken about before committing themselves fully to the digitization process as Elias instructed. Everything was written in his favored academic tone- so natural that Jon found himself speaking extemporaneously on the slides he felt more comfortable with. It was all met with approving nods and a studious gaze from Elias that Jon couldn’t parse. There was also no mention of the tapes.

 The dreaded ‘Meet the Team’ section had been heavily reworked- each one of them had the headshot from their IDs (poor Martin had his eyes closed) and a mention of which department they’d transferred from, along with their credentials. It was professional and informative, everything Jon had wanted it to be. Sasha had outdone herself.  Sasha should be the one making this presentation. 

 He tried to ignore the guilt settling in his chest, even as he smiled back at the approval from the academics he so desperately craved. He clicked to the last slide, which had their contact information and-  oh. It was a picture taken from his birthday a few weeks back, where they all looked fairly presentable and were smiling, no idea of the task ahead of them. Elias was there too; Rosie had taken the picture at Tim’s insistence. His audience tittered, though it seemed to be in good humor rather than mocking.

 “Ah, yes. Th-Thank you for your time.” He quickly turned it off and stared at the ground, his face warm with both embarrassment and a creeping sense of belonging that he didn’t know what to do with. He was startled when a small round of applause began and he looked up with wide eyes to find a smiling audience. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elias nod and smile as well and he finally felt the sense of accomplishment he’d longed for since the start of his promotion.  

 The room cleared rather quickly (no one really wanted to be in a Friday meeting, after all) but Jon was stopped by a tall, smiling woman he had only seen in passing. “Sonya from Artefact Storage,” she reminded him, shaking his hand again and giving him a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to talking to you more about that database. I was always telling Gertrude she needed one, but of course she never listened to me. Stubborn to the end!” He could only stutter, too overwhelmed to formulate a proper response. A hand reached out to his shoulder.

 “That was nicely done, Archivist.” For some reason the title made Jon feel odd, like he was having an honor bestowed that he had not yet earned. Elias wasn’t that much taller than him, but he always seemed to loom over Jon. “Quite the presentation. Lots of...ideas. But I must stress the importance of getting the statements-”

 “On tape, yes, yes,” Jon said, quick to agree. “I just thought, er- I should let them know some of our other objectives, as well?”  Seems like Sasha wanted to, at least.

 “As long as you don’t forget yours,” A pointed glance. Jon gulped nervously, shoving a hand in his pocket. “Still, a good job all around. That Sasha of yours seems like a good asset. Enjoy your weekend.”

 Jon froze in the doorway. Did he know?  Of course not, don’t be silly.  He shook his head and left the room. Well, at least that’s over with.

 ____________

 “Did it go alright?” Sasha asked immediately upon his entrance. He managed a self-deprecating smile. 

 “Surprisingly, yes. That was-  thank you, I guess.”

 “No trouble at all,” Tim jumped out from the break room, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Always knew you had it in you. A consummate performer, I was telling our Martin-”

  “Tim!”  He scowled and tried in vain to shove him away, still irritated by his presence.

 “Seriously, though. Sorry about all of that before. Just trying to lighten the mood, I swear we wouldn’t have actually left you with that-”

 “It’s- It’s fine,” Jon sighed, reluctantly giving in to Tim’s insistent affection. “Well, not really, but it turned out alright in the end.” Sasha gave an encouraging grin.

 “Did you like the photo?” Martin asked anxiously, hovering in the corner of the room. Jon paused. He considered telling him no, that he would have never put it in there himself and considered it rather unprofessional on the whole, but one look at Martin’s face told him that was the wrong move.

 “Yes, Martin,” he said, summoning up the equivalent of a smile. “I liked the photo.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142390

[morefunkti0na1]

Marvel LEGENDS what have you done????

Okay yall, we are back again for another Marvel rant. Today's episode: the goddamn Tesseract. I hate this thing so much. A word to start: yes there will be a lot of spoilers, yes this is inspired by the MARVEL LEGENDS episode, and no I am not okay. Also, I will be referring to the stone and the cube as one entity because of a lack of patience.

To break this down, I will be using four major categories: Captain America, Captain Marvel, Loki (Avengers, Thor, general Asgardian fuckshittery), and Iron Man.

In Captain America, we are introduced to the tesseract for the first time. From my understanding, this object was a thing of the goddamn mythos. Why the science nazi decided to try and use it is beyond me but he did and it's a big deal. Red Skull's use of the Tesseract is the first time we see it as a power source. That's a common thread through the MCU; the Tesseract is understood to be a wicked strong energy source. Captain America takes the Tesseract, is American, and then the Tesseract ends up in the Atlantic, where Howard Stark finds it. Now, I have never watched Agent Carter (don't fret, I'm starting it as soon as I can) but from my variety of google deep-dives, I can say where the Tesseract ends up. Howard Stark brings it to a SHIELD bunker called Project PEGASUS. Remember that.

Now, moving on to Captain Marvel. This is where things get freaky. Mar-Vell actually has the Tesseract in two separate places. She has it in the SHIELD lab on Earth and his sick space lab, which is where we find it in the climax of the movie. Mar-vell also used the Tesseract as a power source with her "lightspeed engine." However, we see just how insane the affect ts of the tesseract are in Carol because she indirectly absorbed infinity stone powers, something that took the entire guardians of the galaxy (one of which being half-God!!!! Just saying!!!) to do. That explains why she's so crazy powerful. Now the biggest issue: how did Mar-Vell get the Tesseract? They never show her directly working with SHIELD but we can assume she was because of them having her files in the warehouse. But up until this point, the Tesseract was safely stored in a bunker because they had no ways of getting it back to space (and I'll leave my ramblings on how the Space Race happened in the MCU for another post). I believe Mar-Vell's earth lab had to have been the Project PEGASUS bunker and that she found it and crashed next to it. That, to me, is the only way she could use it. Then she takes it to space, dies, Cap goes to avenge her, and takes it back to SHIELD so they can hang on to it. SHIELD reinstates Project PEGASUS and they leave the Tesseract there, which leads to my next point.

When we get to Avengers (2012) Loki steals the Tesseract from Project PEGASUS. Then he does something new; he utilizes the other abilities of the Space Stone. Not only does he use it to cross Space (nudge nudge), but he uses it to teleport. The most crucial thing to remember about this is that Loki does NOT put the Tesseract in the scepter. He uses the Mind Stone in the scepter. He received it from Thanos as a gift for helping the Chitauri to invade Earth. Loki only uses the Tesseract as a portal. He does this twice: first when he lets the Chitauri leave, and again when he is brought back to Asgard in cuffs. Now there is something to be said about the Asgardians and Midguardians having differing views on the Tesseract's uses, but whatever. In the Thor movies, the Tesseract is just another trophy in Odin's room. They really do not view it as the mind-boggling thing it is on Earth. It is quite odd. Then in Loki, it ends up totally useless because they can just MAGICALLY TELEPORT AND TIME TRAVEL WITHOUT REALLY HAVING ANY CONCERN FOR STONES. CAN YOU TELL I'M UPSET??

Last but absolutely not least, Ironman and the Tesseract. Now, he doesn't really interact with it in his movies, but I have a pretty funky fresh theory. In the MARVEL LEGENDS episode on the Tesseract, there is one singular clip of Howard Stark messing with the Tesseract. The voice-over is Nick Fury talking about how Howard was using it to try and develop a new type of energy dependant on the Tesseract. So we are back to the "energy source" Tesseract. In Ironman two, Tony is looking through Howard's stuff to find an energy source strong enough to power his arc reactor. What he finds is not a Tesseract. What Tony instead discovers, is an element. Not to be a science nerd on main, but that's really freaking cool. My theory is that Tony accidentally stumbled on the element that makes up the stone. That sounds insane so let me elaborate. The origin story of the Infinity Stones basically boils down to "the Big Bang spit them out and they each contain insurmountable power over an aspect of the universe." The Big Bang Theory states that all of the known and unknown elements in the universe were all spit out at once and then coalesced into stuff. The stones are physical, tangible objects. They have to be made of some elements; that's basic science. We know they have mass, therefore they have to be made of matter. I believe when Tony was reading through the findings, he misinterpreted them in the most genius way possible. Project PEGASUS was highly confidential so I cannot imagine he was just freely mentioning the Tesseract in his notes, besides the drawings we saw. I believe Tony went through the notes, accidentally found the atom pattern in the Expo Model (which I doubt Howard completely intended otherwise he would've patented the element in 0.2 seconds), and synthesized the atomic equivalent to an infinity stone. Then, in true Tony Stark fashion, he attempted to name it Badassium. I think this is going to be important as we move into the next phase of the MCU. He essentially made an infinity stone, that has to have side effects. It also means that we can add Tony to the list of people who could handle the effects of an infinity stone. What I want now, is a villain who tried to study Badassium (I know that's not the real name but it makes me happy) and realized the strength. Perhaps even in the next Thor movie? A villain who synthesized the element for the Ether maybe? It's a cool concept.

By the end of the first four phases of the MCU, this one stone has covered practically every corner of the universe leaving a trail of continuity holes in its path. All that just for the TVA to call it a paperweight. All in all, I think the Tesseract is a really cool object to explore from a world-building standpoint, even if it does make me want to pull my hair out.

TL;DR: The Space Stone is hella broken and also makes no sense. Also Carol Danvers and Tony Stark my beloved <3

[neuro-whump]

Lost in Transit, Part 5

This is my entry to the Box Boy Extended Universe which was originally created by sweetwhumpandhellacomf and written by shameless-whumper and I’m using a lot of world-building which was done by @ashintheairlikesnow. Still somewhat vague on hospital procedure here and also despite my research, I may be misrepresenting acquired dyscalculia here, pubmed is not helping me out and neither is google scholar.

CN: Dehumanization, human trafficking, amnesia, mistaken identity, box boy universe, IVs, panic attack, hospitals

798591 was woken with a start the next morning by a dream he didn’t remember and didn’t know where he was.

He was lying in a bed, in a small white room with an IV in his arm, and his heart was fluttering with nerves and he felt sore and battered and didn’t know why. There was something about the room. Something he’d remembered — but he didn’t remember it now.

He was in his new home, with his new owner. He remembered that and it made his heart slow down. But a few more memories trickled back and made his heart speed up again, he’d got lost and he’d been sick and he thought he remembered being in trouble, already. But he was definitely in the right place now, his owner - the person who wanted him - had been there, he remembered her face and that made him feel better. He would just wait here, and she’d be back, it still seemed like it was early in the morning.

The first person who came in wasn’t Dr. de Courcy though, it was a rumpled man with ruffled hair. 798591 stared at him for a moment before he remembered that he’d seen him last night. He couldn’t remember his name though.

The rumpled man came and peered at him, “how are you feeling this morning?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” said 798591.

“Do you still have a headache?” asked the rumpled man.

798591 nodded.

“Can you tell me how bad the pain is, out of ten?” asked the rumpled man.

798591 thought about it, his head didn’t feel very bad, but he couldn’t figure out how to turn it into a number, and trying made the pain spike up behind his eyes. And not answering the question was making a sinking, anxious feeling low in his belly.

“Hey now,” said the rumpled man, “its okay, don’t answer if its too hard. Just relax now. Take some deep breaths.”

798591 took a few big gulps of air and the rumpled man nodded encouragingly.

“That’s good,” he said, “let’s try again. Can you tell me if your headache is better or worse than last night?”

“Its better?” whispered 798591, “I think?”

“Well that’s good,” said rumpled man, “and do you have any other pain at all?”

He did, but he wasn’t supposed to complain and the questions were making the fluttery, anxious feelings worse, so he shook his head.

“That’s good,” said rumpled man, and smiled at him, so it was probably good he hadn’t said anything, “are you still feeling nauseous at all?”

798591 shook his head, he didn’t even have to keep that to himself, his stomach wasn’t turning over in unhappy ways any more.

“Good,” said the rumpled man, “good. Can you sit up for me?”

798591 sat up and the rumpled man came over and pressed his stethoscope against his chest, and then his back, and then his belly. He had 798591 hold his hands out with his eyes shut so he could press down on them the way Dr. de Courcy had the day before, and then shone a light in his eyes. He still didn’t understand why. But when he was done, he stepped back and nodded to himself.

“Okay,” said the rumpled man, “do you know your name?”

“798591,” he said, which earned him a frown. But he knew he remembered it. He knew that number.

“And what’s the date?” asked the rumpled man.

“I don’t know,” said 798591.

“Do you know what month it is,” asked the rumpled man, “or the season?”

798591 shook his head.

“Do you know how long you’ve been in the hospital?”

“Since yesterday,” said 798591.

“Yeah,” said the rumbled man “that was a good effort. You’re doing fine. Someone will bring you breakfast in a couple of hours.”

He turned around as if to go.

798591 summoned up his courage and asked, “is Dr. de Courcy coming back?”

“Huh?” asked the rumpled man, “yeah at some point today, rounds are usually early, but everything’s still off this morning, from the accident.”

He hurried out before 798591 could work up the nerve to ask anything else. He huddled down into his blankets and tried not to be afraid. He didn’t know what was making him feel so scared, but he wanted it to stop. He wanted Dr. de Courcy to come back and take him somewhere else. He’s not supposed to want things, it sent a twinge of pain shooting through his head.

The next person to come in was a small woman with lots and lots of curly brown hair carrying food on a tray and more pills for him to take. She looked comfortingly familiar but it took him a while to come up with her name. Like his brain was going very slowly.

“Remember me?” she asked with a nice little smile.

“Kenna?” He asked, he still wasn’t totally sure.

“That’s right,” she beamed, “you remembered. That’s really good. I brought you some breakfast, sorry its late, there was a thing with the dietetics orders. And I’m supposed to stay with you and make sure you’re swallowing okay, alright?” She came over and put the food in front of him and asked, “can I sit here? I promise I won’t come and loom over you every time you eat.”

It took him a moment to figure out that Kenna was actually asking his permission, like he got a say in where people sat. He nodded and she perched on the edge of his bed.

“Do you feel like you can eat anything?” Kenna asked him, “or are you still feeling too sick?”

He wasn’t feeling sick, having food in front of him made him suddenly realize that he didn’t know when he’d last had any food and he was awfully hungry. He shook his head hard.

“Well that’s a good sign,” said Kenna. She gave him another nice little smile. “But I want you to eat this very slowly so we can make sure you’re not having any trouble with it okay? We normally have a speech path to do this, but everything is still sort of mad and we didn’t want to make you wait that long to have some food,” she added.

798591 didn’t really know what that meant, he was just happy to be fed, and to have Kenna there. He did as he was told and took small, slow mouthfuls Kenna encouraged him a bit while he ate, and patted his legs a few times through the blankets and it made it easier to eat slower, so she would stay and he wouldn’t be left alone again. He could only drag it out for so long before he didn’t have any food left.

“You did really well,” said Kenna, getting up and patting his shoulder, “I’ll be back at some point to take you to imaging, but I’ve got to run.”

And then she left, and 798591 was left alone for hours and hours.

A stranger came in at one point and brought him more food but they didn’t stay or talk to him and even after another meal he was still lingeringly hungry. It felt familiar, and that made him feel anxious and he just wanted it all to stop. Everything felt wrong and he didn’t know why.

He lost track of the time a little, but it was sometime after that that a group of people in white coats, including the rumpled man again filed into the room followed, at last, by Dr. de Courcy. 798591 immediately straightened up and tried to look alert and tidy. Dr. de Courcy’s eyes brushed over him briefly before she turned to face the rumpled man.

“Dr. McCormick?” she said, and then stared expectantly at him.

The rumpled man, who must be Dr. McCormick and who looked more rumpled than ever, picked up the pad of paper that hung off the edge of his bed and looked from it, to Dr. de Courcy.

“An unidentified and unclaimed male patient, admitted yesterday afternoon and believed to have been involved in the shipwreck. He was assessed by you and by Joey Mallory and presented with disorientation and - pure retrograde amnesia - and moderate dehydration and nausea, believed to be secondary to - ingesting salt water, treated with oral H2 inhibitors. The patient experienced more nausea and headache overnight and I administered oral acetominophen. As of this morning he reported reduced headache and no further nausea. And the RN noted no dysphagia or nausea with breakfast this morning. Initial labs taken during admission showed minor electrolyte imbalances but no other abnormalities, and follow-up labs taken during the early morning are entirely normal.”

He ended his long report by gasping in a big breath, like he’d just run.

“Where are we in the imaging queue?” Dr. de Courcy asked. 798591 still didn’t really understand what that meant.

“They’re hoping to get him in this evening,” said a woman who was standing behind Dr. McCormick.

“Are the labs in epic?”

“Yes,” said Dr. McCormick.

“I want them redone every day until I say otherwise,” said Dr. de Courcy, “maintain the H2 inhibitors for 48 hours to be on the safe side. What’s the obvious next step diagnostically?”

“We need brain imaging,” said one of the women.

“Does everyone agree with Dr. Yeo that imaging is going complete our clinical picture?”

The woman who was standing behind Dr. McCormick spoke up again, “we need to do a neurological exam.”

“Thank you Dr. Halabi,” said Dr. de Courcy, “yes, don’t ever neglect diagnostic exams just because you have, or expect to have imaging. And frankly, becoming over dependent on high tech imaging is a bad idea. You never know when you might suddenly not have it, as we’re currently experiencing. However, because this patient is showing some atypical symptoms I’m going to be doing his work up today and full neurological exam tomorrow, so you will all have to practice on our next patients.”

Dr. Yeo put her hand in the air.

“Yes,” said Dr. de Courcy.

“Shouldn’t we also do a psychological exam? I thought pure retrograde amnesia was usually psychiatric?”

“Yes,” said Dr. de Courcy, “that is correct, your reward will be contacting the psychiatry department and scheduling the exam. Do not conflict with my exam we can’t do both at once.”

“Yes Dr. de Courcy,” said Dr. Yeo.

Some of the other people scrambled for notebooks and scribbled notes.

“And what else?” Dr. de Courcy said.

The scribblers stopped scribbling.

“We have a completely unidentified patient,” said Dr. de Courcy, “we need the police. The world outside the hospital does continue to exist during your shifts. I realize you’re tired, but please attempt to retain object permanence.”

They scribbled some more.

798591 looked between the cluster of people as they talked and tried to figure out what was going on and why Dr. de Courcy wouldn’t look at him or speak to him. He didn’t feel sick anymore, and he didn’t know why Dr. McCormick had said he was unclaimed. He had been delivered. Someone wanted him, someone had to want him, or he would be sent back and refurbished and -

“Well,” Dr. de Courcy said suddenly, and everyone else looked as confused as he felt, “begin the neurological exams on our next set of patients.” she barked, “and go find me Kenna.”

“But -“ Dr. McCormick started.

“Now,” she snapped, and he ran away.

They were alone in the room but 798591 suddenly didn’t feel good about it.

Dr. de Courcy moved a bit closer and leaned over him.

“Take deep breaths,” she said to him.

798591 obediently sucked air deep into his lungs.

“Slowly now,” she said, “good. Try and stay calm, we’re nearly done. We’ll leave you alone soon.”

No, no, she couldn’t leave, he didn’t know what he was going to do, he didn’t want to be alone again.

“Please,” he whispered, “please, I’m better, I’ll be good, please don’t send me away,” he tried desperately not to cry again.

Dr. de Courcy frowned down at him, “what are you talking about? And stop biting your lip you’ll make it bleed.”

798591 opened his mouth like he’d been told, but then he couldn’t stop tears dripping out of his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to cry. She really wasn’t going to keep him if he couldn’t stop crying.

“Oh no, Fawn, what happened?” Kenna said, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he didn’t know when she’d come in, “you were doing so good earlier. Are you hurting?”

“Fawn?” said Dr. de Courcy.

If Kenna said anything in response he didn’t hear her, but he felt a little better while she was stroking his shoulders, and he managed to blink away the rest of the tears.

“That’s better,” said Dr. de Courcy, “now, what are you crying about?”

798591 risked a glance up at her. She was frowning down at him with her arms crossed.

“Did you sleep much last night?” she asked.

“S-some,” he said, timidly, “I can do better - I’ll be better.”

“I may write you a prescription for a sleeping pill, just for the night,” she said, “there’s no point in spending an hour on a neurological exam that will just tell me you’re exhausted. Would that be easier?”

“Whatever you like ma’am,” said 798591.

“Kenna,” said Dr. de Courcy, “I’m hours behind as it is, when you’re finished here, I need you to go contact the hospital legal department, about contacting the police and about what we discussed yesterday. Hand off your other patients if you need to and blame me for it, I want this handled.”

798591 felt his breathing pick up again and he couldn’t stop it, even though he did try.

“Oh is that what got you all wound up,” said Dr. de Courcy, “you’re not about to be arrested, we always call the police when someone gets lost.”

“You’re okay,” said Kenna, “you’re safe here. You’re safe.”

798591 gasped in a very shaky breath, and then his stomach gurgled loudly, and he couldn’t stop it. He also couldn’t stop himself from blushing.

“Are we starving you?” said Dr. de Courcy.

“No,” said 798591, “no I’m alright.”

“Feed him before you talk to legal,” Dr. de Courcy said to Kenna.

“Will the kitchen -“ Kenna started.

Dr. de Courcy took a wallet out of one of her pockets and handed Kenna a folded bill, “the cafeteria will be faster. Hopefully he’ll be less panicky when he’s comfortable.”

She swept out of the room.

Kenna stood up and looked at him, which meant she wasn’t holding him any more, “what would you like?” she asked him.

“I don’t need anything,” 798591 whispered, “its okay.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Kenna, “ you need to eat if you’re hungry. And you’ve had a time of it, I’ll get you a treat, kay? I’ll be right back.”

And she dashed off, and he was alone again.

@haro-whumps  @whatwasmyprevioususername @whump-it

[beesonestopcurioshop]

Whiskey, or rum?

Note: This is my first drabble attempt that I’m posting live. It’s also my first time writing the other loml, Alfie. It feels like this is helping the creativity, and hopefully keeps y’all entertained! I hope you all like it! The two prompts I’m using are numbers 30 and 32 from this prompt list. I’m also posting from mobile, so disclaimer I can’t add a keep reading bar lol.

Warnings: None that I’m aware of. Maybe just the fact that thinking about the other loml has me needing a church fan. 😂💀

Word count: 1084

Beta: @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

Photo credit: Quick google search.

••

Ruth glanced up at the large window in front of her. It was black as pitch outside. She clucked her tongue at herself. She had done it yet again. ‘This is how you end up burnt out, Ruth.’ The papers on the counter in front of her were finished, save for one small detail. They needed her boss’s signature. It was late, sure, but she was certain that her boss was still at the bakery. He always was into the late hours of the night. He was always hidden away in the concealed cave that was the back of the factory. She contemplated the telephone, but instead of having him come up to the front, she figured it would be faster to take the papers to him.

She tapped the counter in rapid succession before saying ‘fuck it’ and fisting up the papers. She saw Alfie Solomons every day. She dealt with him often. His temper was known far and wide, but it never bothered her. It was never directed at her, either. None of the women in the front shop, come to think of it. Her eyebrows scrunched at that thought. It was an interesting trait that she hadn’t noticed before.

Once Ruth got back behind all of the baking equipment, there was a large door leading back to the actual foundation of this place. Normally they weren’t allowed back there unless getting supplies. The preservation of the innocent. When it was just her and the boss man there, it was a little harder for her to follow that rule. Specifically at night time.

Her quick steps led her to the back set of stairs that led up to Alfie’s office. She rapidly climbed the two flights. She hit the landing and her bounding heart-rate caught up with her. Every time she had to climb stairs she thought it was a fantastic idea to look up and go ‘RUN’. She looked at the door holding the prize she was looking for and continued forward. Little puffs of air left her lips while she composed herself before knocking.

Before Ruth could get through two knocks, Alfie swung the door open. “Oh, Alfie! Hi!” Ruth said cheerily.

“What are you still doin’ here, Ruth?” Alfie asked.

“Oh, you know, time slipped away from me. Again.” Ruth looked embarrassed.

“You’ve gotta stop that, pet. Can’t have the front of the house gettin’ rung out, yeah?”

“I know. You've gotta hand it to me though. It’s been a while since it’s happened.” She defended gently.

Alfie smirked but it was hidden under the almost unruly facial hair. He took in Ruth’s tired appearance and knew that she had definitely done it more often than she let on.

She took a look at him. He seemed tired, grumpy. His usual by most standards. However, he seemed more overworked than normal. There were some men from Birmingham roaming around lately. The Shelby’s if she heard properly. She wondered if that was weighing on him.

She knew what he did back behind the bakery. She wasn’t born yesterday. She just kept her trap shut about it because to anyone on the outside asking, she was simply a young woman working in a bake-shop as a cashier.

She wished he would give himself time to relax. Considering the nature of his work, that would most likely never happen. Her line of sight was pulled to the door jamb as Alfie moved his hand up to her eye level.

Hands were a tell-tale history of the person they belonged to. They were one of the first things she looked at when assessing a new person. His hands were strong. Tattooed, scarred. The small black crown in between his thumb and forefinger always had her attention. She had always wondered what it stood for.

The rings he wore in excess helped lessen the blow on his own knuckles but did not save the body the fist would come in contact with. They always worked hard. She bet that even with all the work he put himself through, his hands were soft. With the right person, she even put a bet out that he could be gentle. She began to smile at her bold bet.

“So, right, what brings you here at such a late hour, yeah?”

She shook herself from the trance she had put herself in. “Oh, these papers needed a signature and then filed away for the front office.” She pushed the papers gently in his direction.

“And you figured you would just be a sweet bird and walk them back to me?”

“Well, I’ve noticed your back and knees bother you often. So, yeah, I suppose.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“I knew you’d still be here.”

Alfie smirked again and tapped his temple before reaching out to her outstretched hand. “Similar minds, yeah? Come in. Take a load off.”

Ruth watched the crown float toward the papers. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Now come on, love. S’just us, right.” He paused shortly and took in her reddening cheeks. “You’re blushing, love.”

Ruth cursed herself and her easily flushing cheeks. She stepped forward and made her way to the center of the room, turning back toward the door. The couch that was in front of her looked well worn. Like Alfie often slept there when he didn’t leave. Alfie offered her a drink.

“Rum or whiskey?”

She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip in thought. “Hmm, I’ll take some whiskey.”

“Why whiskey?”

“Well, I’ve always heard you say rum is for fun and fuckin’, but whiskey? That’s for business.” Her blush deepened to a cherry red.

“And what business do we have here, Ruth?”

Her breath caught in her throat. On the one hand, yes, they had business. He was her boss. It was past work hours though. The hours for fun and fucking. She had found herself caught in this situation with him a few times before. She felt her blood pressure spike and the color in her cheeks get even darker red.

She had been so caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized Alfie stepped closer to her, working her closer to his desk behind her until her bottom touched it.

A small gasp left her lips. Her hand naturally came up to rest against his chest. Their eyes locked. It was intense stone blue against light yellow-green.

“I think I forgot how to breathe, Alfie.”

“Well, that’s not good, love. Let me breathe for you.”

••

I hope you all enjoyed it!! 🐝🧡

Taglist: @boogiewrites @justanothershelby @hazelnmae @reyloshipper-starwars @parochialism @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @smallheathgangsters

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Japan Girl’s Fest 3 - Hakuoki Drama “Screen Door Encounter” Translation

First  post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can either on ko-fi, through paypal or through patreon which gives early access to my stuff and blog translations…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that i can share...

Also, Happy Canada Day~!

Anyway, when I decided I’d try my hand at translating Hakuoki content, this was one of the very first live dramas that I really wanted to have translated (for the record the 2011 otomate party reimeiroku drama was 2nd tho i only found tl for that recently)... and while I did have translations for the drama itself, I am missing CH TL for some of the introductory dialogue that occurs before it... and the JP>ENG translations (not done by me) that I’ve included on this are from people who don’t really really Japanese (they both weren’t certain), which are for the two sets of words on pink backgrounds (first 2 images attached under the cut). If anyone can translate that text better, please send me a message since i’ll be cutting the intro off what i post to youtube otherwise [will include credit and can provide clean video +srt file if helping].

On top of that, I also didn’t have the drama’s name for the longest time (hence why i referred to this as ‘Unknown Drama’). Thankfully, the TL help I received from my friends was enough for that tho... 

The format for this post has been done a bit oddly due to how i had to copy the subtitles for this line by line (it was off a video), and I never bothered to properly put the text into paragraphs and sentences due to how this was done off of community created subtitles (basically viewers contributed to the translation via the text barrage) on bilibi that showed up on the video at odd and not exactly precise timings.... 

As always, final edits will be done on the video... will have it done for this month.

link of the video i used for CH TL at the very bottom if interested in watching. 

Enjoy~ this month is all non-game translations!

Japan Girl’s Fest 3 - Hakuoki Drama “Screen Door Encounter”

Translation by KumoriYami

^???? one of my friends says this should be something like:  “The dark battle of the Shinsengumi begins quietly in the shadows of the Shogunate's conflict" while other says “The dark Battle of the Shinsengumi opens quietly in the shadow of the Battle of the shogunate.”

Narrator:  [is this a time of] A time of repelling foreigners or the opening of a country?

All kinds of sweeping change occur [during the] country's age of unrest.

Bakumatsu. 

In order to look for your father who is a Western doctor,

you've left home to live with the Shinsengumi,

Experience these turbulent times with the members of the Shinsengumi

^ also have no tl for this or what is narrated here, though google mtl says the text’s pronunciation kinda matches the audio here

TL is something among the lines of: “what begins here is the determined story of men thrown around by the voices of deception.” (TLN: I don't really know how to accurately translate 閉ざされた先, but it essentially means a predetermined destination) or “It starts with the story of a man who is at the mercy of a closed-off, untruthful voice.” so I’d guess something is among the lines of “What begins here is the fateful story that begins with being at the mercy of a man with a cold and uncaring voice.” or something or other?

Hakuoki

“Sliding Door (Fusuma) Encounter” [well should be anyway. i don’t have formal CH tl for this tho... also Fusumu can mean room dividers but i don’t think that sounds or looks as good.]

(Kazama enters)

Kazama: My wife, I have kept you waiting!

(crowd screams)

Kazama: My wife, I have kept you waiting!

(crowd screams again)

Kazama You must be filled with a deep sense of loneliness during the time we were separated by the hateful Shogunate's dogs [either that or hateful dogs]. 

but since I have arrived, you don't need to worry about anything. Just close your eyes, listen to my words and entrust yourself to me. That's it.

Today, you'll become mine. 

Kazama: hahahahaha!! The love letter I wrote is truly wonderful. [this laugh count may or may not be accurate lol]

My wife will surely become infatuated with me once she reads it

But I am rarely able to avoid the eyes of the Shogunate's hunting dogs.

I went straight to her room but she's not here right now.

Really, to make her husband wait.

I can't just leave my love letter here then head back.

(footsteps)

ah, footsteps! I've been waiting for you, my wi—

Saito: Yukimura? It's me. Saito. 

Kazama: Ugh....

Saito: it looks like you're in your room. I have something to say [tell you], can i come in? 

Kazama: Don't come in!

Saito: Uoh? What’s wrong, Yukimura? Did something happen?

your voice sounds so low which is very strange

ah! is it....

Kazama: che! found out already/discovered already—

Saito: Are you sick?

Kazama: Mmhm......

Saito: Mm. that being the case, I will not come in.

Souji: Areh? Hajime-kun? What are you doing here?

Saito: ah, souji.

Souji: Sorry, but can you move aside? I have something to tell that child.

Hey, is that alright? i'm coming in.

Kazama: I said that you can't come in [I didn't say that you could come in]!

Souji: Hey, Hajime-kun, that voice just now came from behind this door.

Saito: Ah, it seems that Yukimura is sick. 

Souji: Sick?

Saito: yes. I wasn't allowed in.

She's probably worried about passing it to us.

Souji: Hm...? (begins trying to open the door)

......Wah! It won't open. Is it blocked from the inside?

Saito: Souji, stop it. Don't forcefully enter a girl's room.

If something happens, how will you respond/react/take responsibility?

Souji: What happened [What do you mean]? What do you need to say [What are you trying to say]?

Saito: Ah... That's.... for example, if you went in and she was wiping her body down...

Souji: You're so embarrassed while talking that I'm feeling embarrassed.

Saito: This isn't something that can bee spoken aloud!

souji: Well, if she's not coming out of her room, that's easier for me.

Saito: What's going on [What do you mean by that]?

Souji: Just stay on the other side of the door and listen to what I have to say.

Just now one of the soldiers reported seeing Kazama near headquarters.

Saito: Kazama Chikage? In other words, his goal/target is to obviously...

Souji: That's right. That's why I came over to tell you [her] to stay inside your  [her] room and not come outside.

Saito: So it's like that. I understand.

However it's Kazama again.

Souji: Indeed.

He really must be bored to be coming over here so many times.

Kazama:...mrgh....

Saito: The person herself has clearly said several times that she didn't want to go with him.

Kazama: Rgh...

Souji:  How about saying "I hate you the most" to Kazama next time?

Kazama: How could that possibly be!

(silence)

Souji: Hey, Hajime-kun, where did that voice/sound come from just now?

Saito: The sound echoed everywhere, so I'm not entirely sure.

It might have come from inside headquarters

Souji: I think it sounded like it came from inside here.  

(souji struggles with the door again while Saito tries stopping him and Kazama works to keep the door closed)

Souji: Sure enough, it's not opening.

Saito: What are you doing Souji. Kazama might already be inside headquarters.

We can't delay and must go and increase the watch/strengthen the guard.

Souji: mah, fortunately the First and Third Division are all here today.

They have plenty of combat power.

Saito: Then I’ll go tell the members of Third Division— (VA fumbles)

Saito: Then I'll go and tell the members of the Third Division to be on high alert [reword later. more literally it says raise vigilance]. 

Souji, what will you be doing?

Souji: I'll stay here.

The other person's target is on the other side of this door, it can't be left unguarded.

Saito: understood.

I'll leave protecting Yukimura to you then.

(Saito exits)

Souji: Well then, Hajime-kun's gone now.

hey, are you listening? I heard you were sick, [so] it's probably because of that.

That time when you and I went out alone together that night.

Kazama: Two people together?

Souji: Do you remember/You remember, right?

Although the wind was cold, the starts were quite beautiful that night.

You hands turned red from the cold, so I held them in mine.

"How is it, is this warm?"

I didn't hold your hand like that since it was cold, [rather] it was because your cheeks became very red.

Really, although I only did that as a prank,

seeing such a cute expression, it makes me wonder what will happen if I get serious

Or is it, that you want me to be serious?

I'm just making fun of you right now. You don't need to answer now.

So next time there's an opportunity, let's go on a walk together with just the two of us at night.

Kazama: You bastard! What did you do to my wife!

Souji: Ah? Sure enough it is Kazama. such a savage voice, [might have] deceived Hajime-kun, but not me

Kazama: Heh. I didn't intend to lie, it was you guys who misunderstood.

(sword gets drawn) Anyway, you bastard, is what you said true?

If even a fraction of what you said happened...!

Saito: Wait Kazama Chikage, stop this at once!

Souji:  Hajime-kun? Could it be that you simply pretended to get tricked, and you were in fact already aware of Kazama?

Saito: Hm? hm.....of course!

Souji: Really?

Saito: Mm.....

Souji: Re~(poke)~al~(poke)~ly (poke)?

Saito: To tell you the truth, I bumped into Yukimura herself while looking for the other members. After thinking about which locations were suspicious, I came back here.

Anyway/Putting that aside [?]. Kazama! Prepare yourself!

Kazama: Che, Shut up, I'll cut you down later.

I must first cut down the man who put/laid his hand on my wife!

Saito: Put his hand—? Souji, what did you do to Yukimura?

Souji: Then, let's move to somewhere with more space. I'll cut you down today, it'll give me a peace of mind.

Kazama: You talk big! I'm going to/ I'll kill you first!

Saito: Eh? ah, wait, (they exit) Souji! Kazama!

Saito: I'll have to ask Souji what he did later...  

end~

------

video will be done later this month.... tho not sure when since juggling a bit too many srt files right now (you’d know if you saw my patreon’s latest post and extrapolated from that lol). 

link: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1dx41177dj?from=search&seid=13990360835510964870

also i can’t believe that takeda is actually on one of the hakuoki shinkai drama cds. and on the sakamoto/nakoa one at that.... which makes miki the only shinkai char i know of who doesn’t appear on a drama cd.

oh and for the record, i only have translations for 2 of the 3 Japan girl’s fest hakuoki dramas (this being one of the 2).

[taexual]

HOLIC - 34 | jb x reader

     gif cr. @jaelousy

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: sort of angsty but with fluff on top and some suggestive themes ;)

words: 4.4k

           prev / next

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Jaebum shook his head, still frantically pressing buttons on his phone, trying to understand where was the turn that he was supposed to take. He’d already pulled to the side of the road as he attempted to locate where you were on the tiny Google-supplied map but his phone refused to cooperate further.

“I can’t do anything with this thing,” he growled, tossing the phone on his lap in exasperation as he reached over the backseat to get his travel bag. “The battery’s almost dead.”

“Great!” you threw your hands in the air, nearly hitting the roof of the car in the process. “So, you got us lost and now your phone’s—”

“I didn’t get us lost,” he cut you off, pausing to give you a stern look. “If anything, it was you and your game. I got distracted and must have missed a couple of turns.”

“So it’s my fault now?” you scoffed. “All I did was just try my best to keep you awake because you didn’t let me drive.”

“I told you I was fine,” he shot back, sitting down properly now that he’d found his charger. “And it’s dark now. You shouldn’t drive in difficult conditions.”

“And why not?” you crossed your arms, offended. “Because I crashed into a pole once? It wasn’t that big of a deal—”

“Yes, it was,” Jaebum disagreed, angrily plugging the charger into the car’s cigarette lighter. “You could have gotten hurt. I’m not letting that happen again.”

You rolled your eyes, your current state of mind not allowing you to appreciate the sentiment. “I can drive just fine.”

“I’m sure you can. When it’s light and clear outside,” he snapped, his hands returning to the wheel even if he didn’t start the car again. Driving around aimlessly at night didn’t seem like a good idea, he wanted to avoid getting even more lost. “After I saw you that shaken up, there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let you drive anywhere if I can do it for you.”

“That’s infuriatingly bossy of you.”

“Yeah, well, sue me,” Jaebum said. “You’re not getting into any more car accidents. Not if I can help it.”

You took a moment too long to come up with a counter-argument and the brief pause was enough for you both to realize that you’ve drifted off-topic and that wasn’t helpful to your situation in any way. Picking your own phone up, you turned on the navigation to hopefully get you two out of here quicker, even if the connection in the wooded area was much less than ideal.

“It should be me being paranoid about driving cars,” you mumbled, still going on about the same thing. “Not you.”

“Clearly, your sense of safety is warped. But thank God you have me,” Jaebum replied, his voice full of sarcasm but his words completely honest. He leaned over the center console to look at your phone. “Does it say where we are?”

“Yeah. Right here,” you passed him your phone so he could take a better look. “I don’t think we’ve driven too far from the right road.”

Jaebum retreated back into his seat, zooming in on the screen to hopefully recognize the surrounding area. After another minute or two, he sighed and placed your phone on his lap, right next to his own charging one.

“Yeah, I think it’s just a few kilometers,” he said, starting the car again. “I was supposed to take an exit and then turn right a little while later, but, of course, I was too busy talking to you to do that.”

You groaned again. “I can stay quiet for the rest of the drive if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“No, what’s done is done. You might as well keep talking now,” he replied, making a very nonchalant illegal U-turn to return to the spot on the map where he’d seen the exit he’d missed before.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” you reminded him, once the car was heading back down the road.

“It’s late and there are no cars around,” Jaebum countered, although it was clear that he was uncomfortable breaking the rules as well, especially after having preached about how warped your sense of safety was. “No one saw.”

Pointlessly, you replied, “I saw.”

“Hmm,” he acknowledged your response with a grin. “File a complaint against me. Then you can come visit me in jail, it’ll be a nice change of scenery for us.”

“I’m sure we can come up with other ways to entertain ourselves,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “And, besides, they wouldn’t put you in jail for that. But just in case you decide to do anything else that’s illegal, how far away is the motel?”

“Uh,” Jaebum looked down at your phone on his thigh. “Another hour or so. If we don’t get lost again, that is.”

“Any gas stations on the way there?” you asked. “I’m parched and I need to use the bathroom.”

He sighed, never understanding why you called him bossy when he was essentially just following your orders and stopping whenever you asked him to stop.

“I’ll stop at the closest one,” he said, knowing that there was no use in refusing you; you’d still find a way to convince him.

“Thank you.”

Jaebum nodded and, approximately five minutes full of going way over the speed limit later, the two of you had finally reached the spot on the road where it had all gone wrong. This time, Jaebum took the correct exit and didn’t miss the right turn another kilometer later, either. Both of you simultaneously exhaled in relief as soon as you were back on track, heading towards the motel.

A gas station, however, only showed up on the side of the road after you’d complained about there not being any, at least, five times. And then, once Jaebum finally pulled onto the side of the road, he didn’t settle on waiting in the car but headed into the convenience store after you – both of you were obviously craving to feel the night air on your skin after having spent so much time inside of a car.

This store was just as empty as the one you’d visited before – even if it was four hours away from here – and, after noticing that the selection of snacks and drinks here was just as awful as it was in the stop before, you concluded that people just preferred not to shop at gas station convenience stores.

After a quick visit to the vacant bathroom – the entire place here was almost deserted – you suggested you and Jaebum finished your coffee drinks – that tasted more like water, to be truthful – on the bench out back. It would be nice to spend some time in fresh air before returning to the car, and, after pointing out that this was probably a spot where teenagers came to make out, Jaebum reluctantly agreed. He may not have admitted it but he needed the fresh air as much as you did.

“I’d forgotten how bad gas station coffee was,” he told you almost as soon as you two sat down. “I mean, the guy who sold this to us looked genuinely apologetic when I was paying.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason it’s so cheap,” you agreed, taking a sip nevertheless. “Is it weird that I still kind of like it? Even though it’s bad.”

“Not really,” Jaebum said and then added with a teasing sneer, “you don’t really have great taste.”

“Okay, hold on. What?” you raised your eyebrows, feeling only slightly offended because his eye smile made it difficult for you to actually get mad at him. “I’m going to need examples of all the times I could have lead you to believe my taste was anything but impeccable.”

“Oh, I don’t have to think very hard about that,” he replied. “You like me and I’m the furthest thing from impeccable.”

Your heart rate picked up when he mentioned you liking him so easily – even though you’ve already confessed to having feelings for him back when you were playing 21 Questions in the car – but you kept your composure.

“That is not true,” you announced and then paused dramatically before hissing back a playful, “you may be the furthest thing from impeccable but to say that I like you is a reach.”

Jaebum was taken off-guard for just a moment – he was obviously expecting you to defend your taste and, therefore, compliment him – before he burst out laughing, the sound making your own smile widen.

“You know,” he started then, taking a sip of his coffee mid-sentence and frowning at the taste, “okay, no—I can’t drink this,” he grimaced again before putting the half-full cup on top of the trashbin behind him. “Anyway—I didn’t get to answer your question back in the car.”

“Oh,” you felt hot all of a sudden. “That’s right, you didn’t.”

Jaebum caught the apprehensive undertones in your voice. “Do you still want me to?”

“Yes,” you said even though now you found yourself anxious about what he was going to say. He’d already told you so much – it was hard to believe, really, how much the two of you still didn’t know about each other even despite having texted back-and-forth for countless days leading up to your first—catastrophic—meeting – and yet it seemed as though the most important things had still been unsaid.

Jaebum took a deep breath before speaking and—most likely unconsciously—scooted closer to you on the bench.

“I think I’ve had some sort of feelings for you—although I refused to acknowledge them back then—since the first time you encouraged me about my music,” he admitted, swallowing thickly. He made it seem like saying this was the easiest thing in the world, but you saw the way he kept nervously twitching his leg and toying with the distressed material of his jeans. “Do you remember that?”

You raised your head from his legs to his face and waited until he looked at you before gently reminding him, “I’ve done that a lot of times since I’ve met you. I’m not sure which moment in particular—”

“Yeah, but this was, I don’t know, one or two weeks after we’ve started to talk? You didn’t even know me that well yet.”

Your confusion only deepened because you couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. “When we were texting? We haven’t even met back then, though. You didn’t even know I was a—”

“None of that mattered,” Jaebum cut you off. “It’s just—you were the first person – excluding my friends – who encouraged me to really work on my music. And you didn’t even know me or had heard my music. Yet, you still trusted me enough to encourage me not once, but literally as many times as the topic came up. You – a stranger – believed in me while the people I was once the closest to didn’t.”

You swallowed, not responding to him because all words had escaped you – which wasn’t a bad thing, considering that you didn’t think there was anything for you to say in the first place.

If you had to pinpoint a precise moment when you’d realized you had started to fall for Jaebum, you were sure the moment would have been a lot more superficial. It would have been influenced by not only his words, but his actions, his looks, his decisions, and many more factors that required the two of you to exist in the same room at the same time. Meanwhile, Jaebum sat here, right next to you, telling you that he’d started to fall in love with you when your words was all that existed with him. He hadn’t seen you do anything, he didn’t know what you looked like, he barely knew where you’d come from or what you were even like – but he’d read your words and that was enough.

You would never be able to guess how much the things you said affected another person or even changed the course of their life, but right there, in the eerily peaceful resting spot behind the gas station, you realized that you have unknowingly been the first stranger who’d supported Jaebum instead of bringing him down for his unrealistic dreams.

“And all of that meant the world to me,” Jaebum concluded. “Of course, I thought all of our past conversations were going to turn into a big fat chunk of nothing as soon as we saw each other in real life, because, shit, how was it possible for two people to get to know each other seemingly so well, and yet somehow not know about one of the, arguably, most important things, right?”

“In retrospective,” you replied, “I’d say it was important that we knew we were both human. Sometimes that alone is enough to know when you meet someone online.”

He chuckled. “Right. That’s not what it seemed like the moment our eyes met, though. But then you proved to me that my heart – the traitor – wasn’t all that wrong about you. You proved that everything we’ve talked about before was real when you supported me and my music again after we, uh, argued—or whatever that aggressive conversation was—after I had—well, after I’d slept with Lily.”

Suddenly, you got lost between the timezones again.“Lily?”

“Yeah,” Jaebum said, confused by your confusion. “The neighbor?”

“Oh,” you blinked, looking away from him. The memories of the first few days in your apartment slowly returned to you. Lily was the girl who had bought some cupcakes over and then, consequently, slept with Jaebum only to run right into you the next morning. You hadn’t seen her since. “Yeah, I remember that.”

He couldn’t resist, “and you had the audacity to call me disgusting – at least, I remember their names.”

You glared at him. “Is that the part we should be focusing on?”

“Right,” his small smile disappeared from his face when he inhaled slowly. “Well, you did it again. You constantly proved that you had my back, even when I refused to see it and chose to give in to my paranoid side instead – which I blame purely on my deranged survival instinct, by the way – and my initially budding feelings for you just kind of, you know, continued to bloom with every passing day, or whatever,” a beat of silence followed and then, “I saw you cringe at that last part.”

“I didn’t cringe,” you laughed in spite of yourself – it was difficult to hide your smile when he was so adamant to dismiss his own impactful words. “I remember you saying you weren’t going to submit your song, though. That very first time we’ve talked about this in real life.”

“Well,” he snickered, “I say a lot of things, don’t I? But I think it was those blooming feelings,” he paused again, rolling his eyes at his choice of words but still saying them purely because he could tell by your smile that you liked hearing them, “that finally threw me over the edge. I wouldn’t have submitted that song without you, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” you lowered your gaze. Your stomach may have been bursting with butterflies at his acknowledgment of your appreciation for his music but your mind lingered on the day in discussion – just a few days after having slept with Lily, Jaebum had invited you over to Mark’s bar where you met Jiho and Jaebum made the decision to call his ex-girlfriend. “You did… um, reunite with Suji after that conversation we’ve had, though.”

He hated the word. “We didn’t reunite.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jaebum sighed because he did. And he also knew that the two of you had already approached this topic before – although back then, he didn’t have it in him to admit the plain and obvious truth to himself, let alone tell you about it.

“That’s on you,” he said then.

“What?” you raised your eyebrows. “How can that be on me? I surely didn’t contact her for you and you’d already told me before that you couldn’t understand your reasons for texting her that night.”

“It was because of you,” Jaebum said shortly.

You watched him for a moment before saying, “I don’t understand,” even though your heart seemed to know precisely what he was saying.

“No, I think you do,” he said, sighing softly again, “you just don’t want to believe it. Neither do I because, well, that night never makes sense to me, no matter how many times I remember it. You and I barely knew each other at that point. I thought there was simply no reason for me to be angry—or jealous—about you going out on a date with someone. And, I’d tried to convince myself that it was just jealousy about you starting a potential relationship while I just, you know, stumbled around, meeting whoever, sleeping wherever, but never really being sure what I was doing with myself.”

“You told me that this wasn’t it.”

“It wasn’t,” he confirmed. “It only took me literal weeks to admit it to myself but, clearly, I was jealous about you dating someone who wasn’t me.”

You inhaled sharply. “I see.”

“I never thought it was possible for me to feel this way about someone I barely knew,” Jaebum continued, making your chest burst with every word you’d been dying to hear ever since you realized you had started to fall for him. You weren’t sure if it was the secluded spot at the back of the gas station, or the comforting night sky above your heads, or perhaps the previous confessions in the car, that made him admit all of this to you with little to no difficulty, but you desperately needed to hear his version of the truth because maybe, it would finally put an end to your endless speculations about yourself, about him, and about you-and-him. “I still don’t really understand it. You… you were impossibly quick in completely wrapping me around your finger.”

He said it with humor in his voice but when he raised his eyes to yours, they were full of honesty. He wasn’t ashamed of admitting this to you – not as much as he thought he’d be – but he still wasn’t sure what the right way to confess this was.

“Jaebum,” you started slowly, “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but you’ve literally had me thinking about you non-stop from the moment I saw you for the first time, so I’m not sure who’s got who wrapped around their finger.”

This eased his mild discomfort and he found himself grinning. “Yes, but that was purely my intention.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like being the center of everyone’s world.”

“Ha. Keep talking,” you said dryly, a sarcastic smile on your face as you put your coffee cup down on the pavement next to the bench. The drink was getting cold now which only amplified the already unbearable bitter taste. “I can feel my feelings for you disappear bit by bit.”

Jaebum laughed.

“I’m kidding. It’s just you. I like to make you flustered,” he said. “But you, on the other hand? You were never purposefully trying to make me lose it over you and that’s exactly what happened. Sometimes I think that I started to like you so much and so early precisely because you weren’t actively trying to make me like you.”

Trying desperately to keep your internalized screeching actually internalized, you cleared your throat. “Are we approaching the moment where you tell me about all of the girls that have gone out of their way to make you like them? Because I will stand up and leave if that’s the case.”

“Oh, I wasn’t actually going to bring that up but now that you mention it—”

“That’s it,” you got to your feet but Jaebum—through laughter—grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you back down on the bench.

“Come on, I’m just trying to get a reaction out of you,” he said, his voice still humorous.

“That’s all you ever do,” you told him, now seated right next to him, his chest pressed against your shoulder as he kept his eyes on you.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his smile and the smell of his cologne making it harder for you to come up with a witty response. “I like to know how much you like me.”

“Don’t you know already?” you asked, meeting his eyes and losing your train of thought for just a minute when you saw his features from up close; you knew you’d never get used to the sight of him. “I’m fairly certain all of my friends – and yours, too, probably – know how much I like you.”

“It’s easy to be perceptive when you’re watching everything play out from a distance,” Jaebum said. “But you never suspected I liked you the whole time, too.”

You scoffed. “That’s because you literally accused me of attempting to take over your life at one point.”

“I…” the atmosphere turned serious all of a sudden. You thought you heard him swallow. “I know. I was afraid.”

They said that kissing was the most intimate form of talking two people could have with each other and yet, sitting so close to Jaebum and literally talking about something so personal felt much more intimate than all of the times you’ve kissed. Maybe because now you were completely baring your souls to each other, no longer cowering behind the protective armors around your hearts. Now you were finally voicing all of the words that your hearts had already shared with one another whenever your chests would press against each other.

“Are you still?” you asked him.

“I am,” Jaebum admitted. You wondered if the rapid beating you heard in your ears came from your chest or from his. “But it had already happened, anyway.”

“I would never try to control you the way she had,” you said, articulating each word with careful precision.

“I know,” he nodded, his hair brushing against your cheek with each gust of wind. “And that’s why I’m not fighting this. I know you have the power to make me do anything you want—”

“I don’t think I do.”

You looked down as you said this and did not see him frantically shake his head.

“Oh, no, I mean it,” he insisted. “You do. I know you do. I don’t know how else to live my life – when I care about someone, I end up giving them the possibility to do with me as they please. And I… I have feelings for you – too much for my own good – so, naturally, I’m powerless. I’m yours completely. But I trust you to never use this power for selfish reasons. I trust you to never try to change me into someone you’d like better. I-I trust you.”

You didn’t know what to do with yourself as you looked into his eyes again – just when he was going to pull your face to look at him – and whispered, “thank you.”

Jaebum was so close to you, you could feel every beat of his heart and hear every single breath that passed his lips. You were dying to bottle this moment up and carry it with you forever. You were dying to remember the words exchanged on the lonely bench on the back of the gas station for the rest of your life. You didn’t think either of these wishes were impossible to achieve because you’d been dying for so long to earn Jaebum’s trust, and you had it now. And you knew you were going to die if you lost it.

“Take care of that broken and pathetic little thing I call my heart, okay?” he asked, the most vulnerable he’s ever been with you. “I don’t think it can endure any more breaking.”

“Jaebum,” you spoke breathlessly. “I—”

“I want to kiss you,” he said, his heart shutting his brain down and claiming his ability to speak.

You felt your skin shiver but the gentle breeze blowing past had nothing to do with it. “Please.”

He caressed your cheeks, your nose, and your lips with his eyes before leaning in closer and then pausing.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop,” he added in a voice as shaky as your heart, hammering wildly inside of your chest.

You realized unsurprisingly that you would have allowed him to reach inside of you and rip your heart out so he could see it beat for him only as you exhaled, “please.”

Hearing the longing in your voice mirror the feelings in his chest set off an explosion inside of him; he had met someone that, for the first time in his life, was just like him in every way. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You would have allowed him to do anything to you just like he’d have allowed you to do the same. And you fell for him just as hard as he’d fallen for you.

He kissed you then, his hands on your face, his lips melting into yours. And each time you kissed him back, just as eagerly, he felt the broken pieces of his heart put themselves back together as though no damage had ever been done.

In a moment of overwhelming bliss caused by the simple sensation of your lips touching his, Jaebum felt it – he physically felt the missing half of his soul right at the tip of his fingers when he gently touched your cheek. It was right there – the connection people wasted their entire lifetimes looking for. You and him were holding it in your hands.

This realization was electrifying and he suddenly inhaled sharply, pulling away from the kiss.

Surprised, you watched him breathe heavily for a few moments. Your chest had swollen with all the various emotions he’d passed onto you through his kiss and you couldn’t find the words to ask him what had happened but you didn’t have to because, a moment later, Jaebum leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your lips – just to feel the euphoric fire in his stomach burn harder – and then standing up.

“Please,” he said, extending his hand to you, his eyes dark. “Let’s go back to the car.”

   chapter directory

[winterisakillerwrites]

Perfectly Imperfect

Title: Perfectly Imperfect

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Allie Thompson (OFC)

Genre: romance/ realistic fluff(?)

Rating: G

Summary:  Allie hadn’t expected anything when she’d handed him her number that night…She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it. After all she’d known the chances of him actually calling were slim to none, and that was being generous. But Allie had known she would have regretted not taking the chance so she’d handed him the napkin and climbed into her car, forcing herself not to look back.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This was written for @babylevines 4k challenge. My prompt was the line: “Stay here tonight”. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. And thank you to @theheartofpenelope for letting me pester you with this and giving your feedback, you are awesome!

The evening had been nothing short of fantastic and Allie Thompson found herself wondering just when the other shoe was going to drop. Tom had been nothing short of a gentleman in the five weeks since they’d started seeing one another. He was attentive, thoughtful, and, while his schedule was erratic at best, he’d done his utmost to make his interest in her clear. The old adage ‘if it seems too good to be true, it probably is’ had been echoing around her mind, growing steadily louder with each passing week.  

She let her eyes roam over his profile as they sat, curled on his couch, watching a movie with the lights dimmed. He was gorgeous; hair slightly tousled, clad in dark jeans and thin, blue t-shirt, glasses perched on his long, straight nose. Gorgeous and smart and god she was so out of her depth here.

Allie hadn’t expected anything when she’d handed him her number that night…God was it really over a month ago? She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it. After all she’d known the chances of him actually calling were slim to none, and that was being generous. But Allie had known she would have regretted not taking the chance so she’d handed him the napkin and climbed into her car, forcing herself not to look back. And, looking back, she couldn’t believe things had actually worked out as well as they had.

                                                          —

It had been a shit day; she’d been late for work that morning, dropped her coffee as she’d run into the office ruining her new blouse (thank god she’d had a spare in her office for emergencies; the only good thing it seemed was going to come of the day), and to top it all off her blind date hadn’t bothered to show up. Allie stirred her second drink of the night, the ice having nearly melted, watering down the fruity alcoholic concoction significantly. Why she let herself get talked into accepting this farce of a date, she still couldn’t understand. Hell, she didn’t even know why she was still sitting in the bar in the first place. Not when she could have been at home, curled up on her couch with a book and a glass of wine.

“I don’t mean to sound forward but you look like you’ve had a rough night.” Her eyes snapped up at the horribly familiar voice. It couldn’t be…

Allie forced herself to close her mouth as she took in the smiling form of Tom Hiddleston standing before her. She blinked in confusion, wondering if the barkeep had doubled the liquor in her drink. Because clearly she was hallucinating. But, she admitted to herself, as hallucinations go this one isn’t so bad.

It wasn’t that she fantasied about the man standing before her…Or at least not frequently. But she would have to have been living under a rock not to recognize him. Allie has seen several of his films, mostly at Gilly’s behest. Her best friend was…Quite taken with the man, to point it mildly. And she’d dragged Allie along for the ride, whether she’d wanted to go or not.

Tom was undoubtedly talented and certainly not someone you’d kick out of bed. And yes…Technically, Allie may have googled a few pictures of him in her spare time, especially after that asshole Mark had decided he was more interested in screwing other women than trying to make things work with her. He was a harmless idea that she’d known would never exist outside of her head. And yet, somehow he was standing before her with his blindingly sincere smile.

It took her a few moments to find her voice. “You could certainly say that.”

Tom smiled and gestured at her half melted glass. “Would you like another?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Probably not the best idea. I do have to drive myself home.”  

He nodded. “Fair point.” She watched as he appeared to weigh something in his mind. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

Allie blinked in confusion again and stuttered out a confused, “Why?”

Tom shrugged. “You look like you could use the company.” He smiled at her gently and quiet without meaning to, Allie returned the smile. Her hesitance, however, must have been clear on her face. “…But please, feel free to tell me to piss off if I’m being too forward.”

“Oh…Oh, its fine…I just…No, no please sit.” Allie gestured to the opened seat across from her. “You honestly don’t have to though. I’ll be fine, you must have someone waiting on you…” She wanted to slap herself for her own forwardness. It was obvious that Tom knew that she knew who he was. But knowing of him and his work didn’t in anyway mean that she knew him as a person. What he was doing and who he was with was absolutely none of his business.  

He shook his head and settled into the open seat, smile still spread across his face. “Nah. Was out with a few mates but they had to call it an early night, I have nowhere in particular I have to be tomorrow and decided to stick around.”

“Oh.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Allie shook her head, “Nothing. Just…Nothing.” She played with the straw in her drink before giving in and taking a swallow then grimacing. God, it really was watered down. “So,” she started, trying desperately to think of some way to steer the conversation back to less potentially embarrassing topics. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” Well that certainly isn’t a leading question at all, Allie you utter, utter moron!

The smile on his face grew and he rubbed his slightly stubbly chin with his free hand. “Come here often then?”

She felt the blood rush to her face. “Sort of. This place isn’t too terribly far from work for me.” Allie took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I certainly would remember a face like yours.”

It was Tom’s turn to blush, the color rising quickly to his cheeks as he ducked his head. Some part of her, admittedly impaired, brain quickly filed that image away for later processing. I made Tom Hiddleston blush! He shook his head. “No, I’m getting ready to start a play in the area and this was the closest pub to the rehearsal space.”

Allie nodded. She’d heard, again through Gilly, that Tom was gearing up for the theatre again. But with all that had been going on in her life, she hadn’t paid much, if any, attention to the details. “Very nice. Well welcome. I’m Allie.” She held out her hand him and he took it firmly in his.

“Thank you, Allie. I’m Tom.” They sat in silence for several minutes before Tom cleared his throat and spoke once more. “Who were you waiting for, if I may ask?” He looked less than sure of himself

“Blind date.”

Tom’s brow wrinkled in confusion and then astonishment, “And he didn’t bother to show?”

“Obviously.” Allie turned her attention back to her drink.

“Well bully for him then,” Tom mused, taking a quick sip of his drink. “And all the better for me.”

Allie quirked her brow at him. “Do you use that line with all the girls, or am I special?”

Tom let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Um…God, no matter how I answer that I’m going to come off sounding like a gigantic ass.”

She snorted a laugh. “But it’s a nice ass.”

His laugh this time was genuine. “You think so?”

Allie blushed. “Well…”

Tom waggled his eyebrows at her and they both broke into fits of laughter. Allie was surprised at how comfortable she felt around the man sitting before her. It was surreal, sitting here talking with a man she had only ever seen on screen. Surreal but wonderful all at once. Allie found him incredibly easy to talk to and, quite honestly, a fantastic flirt.

She sighed and slowly sipped her drink; finding flirting so much easier knowing that in the end it most likely wouldn’t matter. Tom, while clearly every bit as charming and genuine as he’d appeared on screen, was most likely never going to see her again once they parted ways. Knowing there was a time limit, a definite end, made it safer for Allie to put herself out there. After all, what did she have to lose?

Tom did talk his way into buying her another drink, a lemonade this time, “I know you said you need to be able to drive home tonight.” And she sipped it gratefully, wondering just how her night had turned from disaster to something altogether enjoyable. It surprised her when she’d next glanced at her watch that it was nearing midnight. How the bloody hell had that happened?

Ignoring thoughts of glass slippers and carriages turning back into pumpkins, Allie pushed herself from the bench and smiled warmly at Tom.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked before his eyes fell to his own watch. “Or not so soon. I can’t believe it’s that late already.”

She shrugged. “They say time flies when you’re having fun. But I do need to be off. I have work in the morning.” Allie could have sworn she’d seen a flash of disappointment in his eyes but dismissed it as a trick of the lighting.

“Could I at least walk you to your car?” She hesitated for a moment before nodding. If he was going to prolong the evening, if only for a few moments, then who was she to interfere?

They walked silently from the warmth of the pub out into the cool night air. Her car, a light blue compact, was parked on a side street not too far from the main entrance and they made it there in less time than Allie had hoped. She smiled sheepishly as she turned to face him. “Well this is me.”

Tom returned her smile and, after a brief paused, leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. He tasted of whiskey and warmth and Allie felt her head swim. They were both slightly breathless when he pulled back. “It’s been lovely, Allie.”

“It has.”

Allie wasn’t sure what made her do it, bold was the absolute last word anyone would use to describe her, she pulled a napkin and pen from her purse and quickly scribbled her name and mobile number on it. Without giving herself time to think, she pushed it into Tom’s hand, smiled softly, and climbed into her car.

She hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Had done her utmost best to push the thought of him actually using the number from her mind as she drove home. So the soft ping of an incoming text message as she fought to undo the deadbolt of her main door caught Allie by surprise.

‘It’s Tom, from the pub. Just wanted to make sure you made it home safe. And to say once more that I had a lovely time.’

Allie blinked at her screen in confusion; torn between flattery and disbelief. “Well fuck me sideways.”

The phone pinged again as another text arrived.

‘And to say I would very much like to see you again.’

                                                           —

Tom chuckled, turning his eyes briefly from the screen toward her. “Something on your mind?” His smooth voice danced with mirth and Allie felt her face flush in embarrassment at being caught staring

“Yes…No…Sorry.” She cursed a blue streak in her mind. What the fuck was wrong with her?

He picked up the remote and hit pause, turning his full attention on Allie. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Allie shrugged, not quite sure how to put the thoughts swirling through her mind into words that might actually make sense.

“You can talk to me,” he assured her. “Whatever it is, I promise not to judge.” Tom reaches out and cupped her cheek with his hand.

She let out a nervous laugh. “This.”

Confusion spread across his features. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

Allie swallowed, trying to gather her wits. She leaned back, breaking their contact, and gestured between them. “This. You…You are wonderful and kind and ridiculously amazing…”

“And…” He trailed off, a look of apprehension in his blue eyes.

“And I’ve not been this happy in a very, very long time. That scares me, Tom. You are almost too good to be true and I keep waiting for…” Allie stopped, turning away from his intense gaze, feeling so incredibly stupid for saying anything in the first place. “It’s stupid.”

Tom’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and slowly moved until it rested beneath her chin. Gently, he turned Allie’s face back towards him and locked his eyes with her bright green ones. “It’s not stupid.” A warm smile spread across his face. “If you are feeling it, Allie, it isn’t stupid. I’m not…” He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m not an easy person to be with. My life is chaos at the best of times and no matter how hard I try, I am so very far from perfect. I can be obsessive with my work and I’ve been accused, and not unfairly, of being distant and hard to reach when I get wrapped up in a project.”

Allie opened her mouth to protest but was quickly silenced by the look in Tom’s eye.

“I’m not perfect, Allie, and at some point I will do something to let you down even though it’s the last thing I want to do.” He paused again, dropping his hands to his lap. “This scares me too. I’ve not had an excellent track record when it comes to successful relationships and I don’t want this…Us, to be a part of that. But that is part of the risk of a relationship and I think…I hope it’s worth it. That we are worth it. That I want us to be. And I know it’s early days yet and even bring this up is probably way too much, way too quickly…But I want you to know…I want you to see that I am not taking any of this lightly.”

“I swear to god, Hiddleston!” A choked sob slipped from Allie’s lips and she pushed her hand against Tom’s shoulder. “How is it you always seem to know what to say?” She sighed. “It’s getting a bit intimidating.”

Tom reached up to clasp her hand in his own, “Give me time, I’m almost positive I’ll say something stupid sooner or later. Just ask my sisters, I’m sure they have plenty of stories that would highlight my less than stellar side.” They both laughed softly at that. “I’m not perfect, Allie. I’m just me. And I have come to care a great deal about you. I don’t know if this will work but I want to do my best so that it does.”

She sat in silence for a few moments before bringing herself to speak. “I want it to work too. I just…This is new for me and I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here.”

Tom laughed softly. “That makes two of us.” He pulled her against his side, kissing the side of her head. The small gesture sent a shiver through her. It was far from the most intimate thing they had done (not that they had done a great deal, physically), but something about the innocence of the act that struck her. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Allie nodded, settling gratefully into Tom’s embrace. He un-paused the film and they settled back into the quiet comfort of the evening. By the time the credits began to roll, Allie had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He smiled, watching her face relaxed and serene in sleep.  

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. She stirred, her face scrunching first in confusion then in annoyance. “Allie, darling. It’s late. The film’s over.”

Allie cracked her eyes open, blinking in the dim light. “Wastime it?”

Tom laughed. “It’s half eleven.”

“Five more minutes,” she slurred, burying her head farther into his chest. Allie was warm and he was ever so comfortable. The idea of forcing herself to get up and make the trek back across the city to her small flat seemed unbearable.

He took a deep breath, running his thumb across her cheek, smiling as Allie leaned into his touch. “Why…Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

She pushed herself up, staring at Tom in confusion. “What?”

Tom took another deep breath and continued with more confidence. “Stay here tonight. With me.” He leaned in, his blue eyes locking on hers, and kissed her gently.

Allie pulled back studying his expression before smiling softly up at him. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe it wasn’t. The only way to know was simply to take that leap. “Okay,” She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and returned the kiss. She reluctantly pulled back and nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay.”