#i don't think richard is stupid enough not to notice where they were when he escaped

[asterdeer]

definitely the funniest thing about the last richard episode is that everyone is like "oh my god the bad guys threw richard out of a car on purpose, they attempted to murder him by pitching him off a cliff, this is the last straw, this blatant murder attempt will not go unanswered!” and eventually richard is going to have to make a choice.

[marimayscarlett]

Can we talk about the bands engl7sh knowledge?

So Till was the first one to learn it. Knew enough to communicate in the early 90s. Probably most fluent of them all since he also probably read the entire dictionary and synonyms.

Richard did 0 to 60 in just 2 years. Obviously, moving to NYC and having English speaking wife helped a lot, but from 1998 not being able to, to 2001, speaking with easy, is truly impressive. Sassy german accent. More fluent in street talk than eloquence.

Then we have Schneider, who I think is as good as Till and Richard, but has the heaviest german accent making it seem like he's not as good.

There's Paul who's simply not used to expressing his opinions in English, and therefore, his brain cannot keep up with his tongue.

Dear sweet Olli, his English skills are as mysterious as himself. We probably only heard him speak English 3 times..

And then there's Flake. We know his skills got immensely better in the last 10 years alone. Went from don't wanna say something in case I sound stupid to reading books publicly.

Overall, like for a lot of us, english is necessary for survival. Especially if you travel a lot and meet lots of people. But kudos to them for learning it so quickly, especially when they were already in their mid/late 20.

Hi 👋

Oh, this is a wonderful ask! I think about the band's English learning journeys and their language skills in general quite a lot (it kind of is one of my 'roman empires', to use a contemporary phrase), since there are a lot of different skill levels present in this band. Let's work our way through it:

1. Till: the language genius of the band

I noticed Till's talent for languages and to express himself quite early on, and like you said, he seemingly was the one person in the band who could use English already in the 90s for conversation and explaining, like in this interview:

Another interview where Till speaks about the Nazi accusations the band has to face time and time again, he expresses himself and the points he likes to make so well:

Not only does Till speak English, from my knowledge he apparently speaks spanish, russian, I heard him speaking some polish - he is really talented in this regard and he has my utmost respect for it!

2. Richard: if eagerness to learn was a person

Richard seemed so lost on their first America tour in 1998, he was quite isolated from the rest of the bands which participated in this tour which made him apparently feel pretty lonely (I mentioned his language journey a bit in this ask). Movies helped him quite a lot to get more acquainted with the english language, and apparently he mastered english well enough around the time when he met his later-(ex) wife Caron in the end of the 1990s. Surely moving to the US together with her must've refined his english skills a lot, but to even consider moving there, he must've already speak enough english to at least feel a bit comfortable in an english speaking environment (at least that's what my thought process would be). I must say, I admire Richard's drive and eagerness to learn this language so quickly, and he became competent to express himself quite well. Here's an interview from 2004, he seems so relaxed speaking english, which makes me quite proud of him:

Here's another interview from 2017 as an example, Richard speaks quite fluent and seems to be very comfortable in the english language. He once said it's easier to make small talk in english than in german - he might not have to most sophisticated vocabulary in english with grand words and uses a lot of fillers (his famous "you know" always at hand), but he knows how to express himself in a straight forward yet entertaining and charming way.

3. Schneider: hidden talents

From what I've heard, Schneider definitely knows how to express himself and has a surprisingly well equipped vocabulary. I say 'suprinsingly', since I didn't expect this at first - like you mentioned, his german accent seems to distract from this fact a bit. In comparison to Thomas Lang (an austrian drummer), Schneider of course sounds a bit clunky and not that relaxed - nevertheless, he comes across quite soft spoken in the english language and knows his way around expressions.

In this interview Schneider finds his way into the speaking 'flow' a little better in my opinion, and brings across his points quite clearly. Despite his heavy accent, you can still understand him quite well (at least that's what I think) and it seems like he puts a lot of effort into finding the right words to describe certain things coherently.

4. Paul: motivated endeavours to express himself

Paul seemingly can use english to make conversation to a certain degree and understands the language without problems. In the earlier days of Rammstein, while speaking english he came across a bit ungainly, searching for correct expressions or words, like the infamous "slimey into people" - but you still know what he means 😅 I think here you can notice what you mentioned in your ask, he knows exactly what thoughts he would like to express, yet is a bit inhibited by the fact that he doesn't know the correct words for it.

Here's another, more "recent" interview from 2017 - he's a bit more comfortable speaking english, yet for me as a native german speaker, it became apparent (through all the english interviews I saw with him) that Paul tries to transfer the typical german sentence structure into the english language, which of course doesn't fully work and gives of a bit of a circuitous vibe. Yet he's quite understandable as well I think.

And a personal favourite of dear @dandysnob (who helped me looking for Paul's interviews, thank you dear 🤍), which shows Paul has no fear to make contact with fans using a different language than german 😊

5. Olli: Once again an enigma

I found several quite interesting and charming interviews with Olli, who's a joy to listen to (he comes across as shy and yet eager to answer the question he gets in a friendly and detailed manner), but all of them are in german. In my ask about Olli during meet and greets, it was mentioned that he doesn't seem to be really comfortable in the english language.

6. Flake: from fearing of ordering a cup of bacon to fearless one-man show

Flake is someone who isn't scared of expressing his opinion about matters and things he doesn't enjoy (he's not the biggest fan of the US to put it mildly) and also expressed that he struggles with the english language quite a lot (for example during 'Rammstein in America'). Plus he sometimes has a reoccuring stutter (since his child hood), is quite shy and he has, together with Paul, the broadest Berlin dialect you could imagine - and what does this guy do? Mastering the english language just enough to give public speeches about his early musician days in front of a whole audience, really overcoming his fear of public speaking and doing so gracefully in a different and hard language for him! Mad respect for him, and he maintains his distinct humor while doing so:

Flake's vocabulary isn't really refined, but good enough to express his thoughts in simple and understandable phrases. Same as Paul, he seems to adapt the german syntax into the english language, yet he speaks so fluently, barely searching for the words he needs!

Plus he even had the guts to sing in english on stage, another iconic moment, linked here (can't put any more videos in this post due to the video limit).

"But kudos to them for learning it so quickly, especially when they were already in their mid/late 20." I borrow this statement of yours to bring this post to an end, since this is exactly my point of view here - it really is remarkable how well many of them find their way around the english language 😊

[stoptellinglieslois]

Love fair Act 23

Vampire Fanfiction Clark Kent human x Richard Grayson vampire no capes or tights but fangs and might.

Crossover Thor, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.

Clark pov

I watched him from the bed as he is taking a shower I was shocked I didn't know that I would wake up to this, I looked to the floor anywhere but where Richard's naked form the floor was dirty and muddy boots and clothes litter the floor leafs and twigs with foot muddy foot prints made there path to washroom.

I didn't realise it but as I was studying the dirty floor Richard made eye contact when I looked up at him, Now what I was lost I didn't know what to do I was alone with him and I have no idea what to about him.

I tore my eyes away from the vampire and looked at the dresser I couldn't believe it but it couldn't be that the Zeus ring was on the table, But it was shining in it's gold band and opaque opal transparent the matrix stone as I remember in my dream, It called me to put it on leaning to one side on the dresser.

I was in a bewilder state of mind I picked it up and placed it on the palm of my hand. as I marvel at this phenomenon and I grasped it and squeezing it I didn't notice at first but Richard is standing next to the bed I didn't hear him make any sound or close the shower but here he was only a towel covering his lower half his wet black long wet hair went past his shoulders it is slick back I have to admit he is beautiful, And I wasn't stupid enough to just let that roll off of me like I didn't know to whom I am looking at.

But I was looking at two marvels the ring and him.

"How did you know....." I stopped myself and changed course. "I need to know something about this ring that I am holding in my hand, Don't take this the wrong way but your father ... did he ever know about Joseph's existence because in my dreams he found out about him by wearing this ring." I asked him I know these dreams didn't come cheaply these dreams always came with a price and I needed to understand that price because I had to understand that he is giving this ring to me.

"No I never knew why you were asking." Richard said sitting on the bed dips low with the weight of two people. "Because he knew about you and him because you gave him this ring on Christmas day, Because he got attacked that day his face got all scratched up his arm was bandage he looked a wreck and it look like it was a fight for his life and I am not blaming your father for it but I like.... maybe he wanted to.." Richard hissed menacingly at what I was trying to say he wasn't mad at me for saying it but he was angry because it was something he would not have ventured before and perhaps I have revealed something that would have stayed buried if I did not have that dream just now.

"If this is true he wouldn't have succeeded I gave Joseph a compound of mushrooms and poison ivy no wolf would have stuck around for long, It will be something I will think about for a while let me put him on." Richard put out his hand for him to put the ring on my finger I passed it to him I didn't get what I was doing why didn't I stop him from doing all of this.

But he slid it on my index finger anyways I felt like this is not an uneasy thing to be given something so unique to be taken lightly, All I thought is that I will guard it with my life.

Richard is inching closer to me I moved back but he put his hand on mine. "Don't do that Clark please let me in." Richard sounded so gentle his hand is so cold to the touch. "Richard what do you want." I asked him this is all new territory for me. "Kiss me." Fuck.

"God you've been in my thoughts for months I would burn Gotham for you." I went still because I know this would be true, I didn't know Richard for very long but from the amount of little time I have with him this wasn't a surprise to me.

"I have never kissed a man before." I told him nervously twisting the bed cover. "It's fine there's nothing to be scared about close your eyes." I closed them and my nerves were shot to hell I could feel him leaning into me. "Don't be scared I want nothing but a kiss from you Clark." The way he says it sounded so seductive pulling me in by his words my nerves slowly released it's griped on me letting myself be lull into Richard seduction.

"Oh yes come to me Clark." It is a slow burn but I felt like I was on fire and I didn't know what was going on but he kissed me, Richard kissed me full firm lips and he didn't look for dominance just looking for being kissed.

I knew I was stiff as a board when we kissed but I felt odd being kissed by him it wasn't bad, He isn't a woman that's for sure but there is something about it that it made me feel at ease in his embrace.

He slipped his tongue in..... and he's holding my head back and that's when I heard a crash and a yell from downstairs it broke the spell so to speak.

"Blast what's going on." And Richard got up with only a towel out of the bedroom I followed after him. When we reached the main hall Jason Tim Thor Steve Jason was carrying a woman unconscious she looked horribly beaten.

I also noticed a young black man by Jason's side he looked up at me and reminded me of my students, I smiled at him and he did a little wave so sweet I missed teaching.

"She got Zatanna. Lois got to her I can't believe it." Tim said to Richard pensively thinking.

"Zatanna is the equivalent to Al ghul if she wasn't an evil bastard Lois is tactful she wants our resources down." Richard walked back and forth thinking.

"Where did you find Zatanna." Richard asked if he had a heart beat it would be beating fast.

"At my boyfriends house with a note pin to her top" Steve replied.

"And who's your boyfriend." Richard asked.

"Tony oh and here's the note." We all turned and looked at this man by the door holding a note. "I would like to say whoever Clark Kent is she wants to kill you." Tony says coming in and closing the door behind him.

"She can't reach here and I know you guys don't live here so she branched out. Crap Thalia ok I thought I would wait a little for this but I think I would have to bring this to the next level. I have to teach Clark magic." Richard saying that sent prickles up my spine.

"That would be a good start but we need to be more on this because she wants to take the whole of us down." Richard nodded his head in agreement.

"There's only one way to do this and it's to kill Lois." Thor said making Zatanna comfortable by putting a pillow under head.

"If I kill her I have to kill the soul too."

"Whoever Lois is she's out the window at this point and Thalia's in the neighbour hood."

"I refuse for Clark to ever confront her with no skills in alchemy."

I moved away from the group my brain swam I know Lois is a person but I'm not sure what's taken place here they are planning to take a human life.

My knees started buckling as I kneel down on the floor and the room started spinning.

End of act 23 next is act 24

Thank you for reading

[we-dragons]

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 9 Damian x reader

"What is this place, why is it shaped like a T?" We stand on an island with this enormous building smack in the center of it the sunset shade casting a large shadow over us, I can't get over how ridiculous it looks. Or contemplate my confusion, Nightmare makes an unimpressed huff and nuzzles back into my shoulder.

"Titan's tower."

"why would this be a good place to hide? It's the most obvious building here, I ran with you for several days I'm beginning to think I would be safer under my floorboards." He walks up to the doors and pulls out a card holding it in front of the circular panel. It beeps and a clicking noise comes from the door.

"Believe me this would be a better place for you." I sigh a form of any and all anxiety pools in my body, but I still meet him at the now unlocked door.

"Alright fine but you need to explain to me why here of all places."

"When we get inside." The doors swing open, the area behind it lights up leading to what I assume is an elevator. I'm pulled inside not giving me a chance to look around. "Hey!" He doesn't answer but pulls us into the elevator, I don't see him push a button but we almost immediately move up. It's fast but not as fast as the one I had to go down for training at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Though the feeling is familiar and I start missing my classmates all over again. I rub the wrist that Damian was holding to dragging me here. Nightmare growls at the space moving him and interrupting his nap. The space stops and the door opens to an open space that looks like a large living room. a white angled couch a large kitchenette and an impossibly large TV by open glass windows. The room has several people all staring at us, my anxiety hits me tenfold and I take a step back. A hand is at my shoulder the moment I do and pushes slowly while moving itself. The doors close signaling that I'm truly stuck here, a woman with Neon pink hair and bronze skin zooms up to us.

"It's so good to see you, and I see you brought a friend. Richard has been looking all over for you."

"I know that's why you can't tell him we're here." I'm pushed forward. "She's a mutant possessing the X-Gene, my father wants to interrogate her for the information, she needs to stay here till a better solution becomes present. Can she stay here?"

"Well of course she can stay-"

"What?!" Nightmare jumps from my arms and hisses. I walk backward, taking in this new information. "How did, you find out when-when." Fear creeps how long had he known how much trouble was or might be in. But he didn't mention this. but then again why would he. How does he know about the X-Gene though, from the research I did there were none here with it. The closest there was were Metahumans but even they didn't have anything close. My back hits the wall and I return to the world Nightmare growls standing guard in front of me. Everyone who was in the room now stood in front of me, a boy that was green from head to toe, another girl in a purple cloak and unitard, and another boy with something attached to his back. The pink-haired woman steps forward, but Nightmare swats at her yowling as a warning to keep away. She raises her hands in surrender but looks at me.

"There is no need to be afraid, I knew people like you, Jean Grey, Cyclops. they came here by accident once a few friends and I helped them get back. It would have been 7 years ago now." Damian steps forward Ignoring Nightmare, guilt is painted slightly on his face he tries to coax me from the wall. "I'm sorry I knew since the time you showed me, I checked my recorder after that visit and played it back home in front of everyone. I was to find out more from you and report back after we scanned those samples that healed me. When we were ready I was supposed to bring you back with me for interrogation with confirmation of your mother's research." Something snaps inside me and I glare at him.

"So all that was for those stupid journals. Wow, for how long were you faking nice. No, don't tell me it'll just feel worse. " I put a hand on my face willing the emotions of confusion to stop. A crackling noise makes its self known in front of me followed by screams.

"Holy Crap that thing has tentacles coming from its face!"

"Ahh!"

I gasp at the sight Nightmare had gone full flerken and is attempting to drag Damian in. I lunge at Nightmare dragging him across the floor. He lets go of Damian but he hasn't changed back to cat form. "Nightmare No! Calm down I'm fine I swear it! Stop!" The black fuzzball retracts his tentacles and hisses at the crowd.

"I'm sorry, he gets like that when he sees me upset sometimes. Not sure if you have them here but he's half flerken, they look like cats but they're quite deadly." I set Nightmare down and he crawls behind my legs once again hissing particularly at the green boy how has gotten closer, he turns into a green cat making Nightmare run in the process. Damian limps forward his leg is bleeding through his suit. I would let that heal naturally if only wounds inflicted by Nightmares in the flerken form never heal normally on their own.

"Y/N these are the Titans, the one mimicking your," he waves his hand in the air as if to find the world. "flerken is Garfield." He points to Nightmare being chased my the green cat attempting to lose him. The bronze woman glides forward stomping a foot from me the others followed behind.

"Hello my name is Starfire you can call me Kori, this here is Raven," She points to the purple girl then moves her other hands to the boy. "and this is Jaime. We are pleased to have you here Y/N." She grabs my hand pulling me away from the middle of the room where I had landed. "Now let's get you settled in I'll talk to Damian for a bit after." Nightmare notices my leaving and jumps onto my right sholder hissing at the green-skinned boy.

_____________________________________________________________

I honestly don't know how to feel, to be honest, I should have guessed it so it's my fault. I could have left him and then this wouldn't have happened, but then he would have died in my apartment. Could have been more hostile, but then he definitely would have gone with the kidnapping strategy and I would be already in the hand of batman. Now I'm in the known world of their superheroes, the superheroes know about the Crows and they know about the X-gene. That information can go from good to bad in minutes. Though Kori did know about Jean and Scott, though it was years ago they have traveled through many universes with a small team. I would have been about 10 when this happened and my mother didn't take me there for classes till I was 12. In their lectures, they didn't mention anything like this they did bring in Doctor Strange to teach those of us who could understand how to perform magic. I Now I'm sitting on an insanely comfortable bed knees curled up to my chest just reminiscing. I have been told to use my abilities only when necessary as not to attract any unwanted attention. But what did I do, I screw up my chances of living normally till Doc Strange can pull me back only to find I'm not in my home where I should be. Everything was going so smoothly till now.

The door opens behind me and by the almost silent footfalls, I can tell it's Damian. Nightmare has jumped into my arms forcing me to let go off my legs and watch as the boy drags a chair to face me.

"I suppose you want the whole story now," I said barely looking at him.

"I wasn't going to talk about that yet."

"What did you think you would find in the journals that my mother wrote?"

"An answer on how to stop the Crows."

"You most likely will."

"Than what's in them."

I sigh looking him dead in the eye, pulling myself together for this.

"My mother didn't only study history, in my dimension, she studied all sorts of fields one day she was asked to study something and was gone for almost six months. We hardly heard from her but just enough to know she was alive so naturally when she came back she swore me into secrecy. She explained that she had gone to another world entirely, she studies with them and when she came back more time had passed than when she was there. One journal explaining how she got the and how to get in and another explaining what she found, and the rules for everything she experienced there. She learned things no human should know and kept it from the people she worked for and everyone else. She-she found Avalon, lived among the fey in return for her curiosity and genuine interest they helped her make a guide and history of all fairy and Fae both the pure and the equally disturbed." I reach in my bag and pull out the books from missing from the very research my mother so loved. One being ordinary leather-bound and the other two bear a glowing purple gem on both sides of a very purple dark Tome thick and pooling with some sort of energy as the gem. I give him a serious look gripping both books. "She left it to me but I haven't read them yet, I...I couldn't bring myself to. It might be better used in your hands anyway. Though I shouldn't I still trust you for some reason, so under the conditions that you only use what you find for the better of those in need you may find your information. The journals, however, will stay within my sight understood." He nods, I start to give the leather books to him he stops me.

"I don't want to see them before you," He takes the books from my hands and places them back in the bag. "If you are convinced that I should still read them, then I will convince where ever you wish to study them." He sits on the bed next to me staring out the window. "What I want to talk about is how we get Father not to view you as a threat and as a friend. I went over it with Starfire and we both agree this is the best option." He pauses before he continues. "We're you a hero in your world?"

"You want me to do hero's work and gain a positive reputation so that he's more willing to work with me than slowly forcing out of me."

"Yes."

"How do you know about the X-gene?"

"It was in our database from when Jean Grey and Cyclops had visited. They helped take down an invasion of the skrul and took them back with them to their own dimension. Father took some DNA samples to work with and ask about their abilities. There are entire folders on the subject alone." He pauses again running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Not for that, for everything else."

"Yes that is very much on you but it's also on me. But if I had left you with Crow poison in your blood you would either turn into an undead flesh puppet in my room or die. That would not have gone down well for either of us. I was also mostly upset you broke my window and wanted compensation," I see him visibly tense and clench his teeth. "and didn't even bother to say thank you."

"I Fixed your awful goddammed window isn't that thanks enough." He glares at me.

"Was it? After all, you did spy on me and report it to the Dark Knight." I fall back onto the bed. "There's no getting out of this now might as well get used to it."

"You shouldn't be this comfortable with what's happening, I wouldn't"

"Then why are you smiling ya weirdo, It's almost creepy."

"Tsk, just hand me your computer so I can pull up Star Trek, I would like to finish and begin the movies." I hand him my laptop and he walks over to the wall in front of the bed.

"Um, you know we watch on that computer you making a get away with."

"Yes but the enormous 4k TV is here." He pushes a button I didn't even see before and as promised a TV appears. He smirks at what I assume is my expression. He opens my computer and within minutes Star Trek is cast on the TV. "Please hold your applause till after the show."

"Did you just make a joke? Are you joking now?"

"Aren't I allowed to have a sense of humor?" I Look at Nightmare who has the same thought in his head and I look back at Damian.

"Nope, Nada, No way."

"You know, you're the only one who has talked to me that way and lived."

"I should consider myself lucky then huh."My gaze falls to his leg, It's poorly bandaged so I pull my scales and Med-kit from my bag. " But before I forget I need to treat your leg before your tissue becomes necrotic. You can watch while I work, but you need to swallow one more of the "glittered plastic"."

_____________________________________________________________

"How do you make them?"

"The scales?" I pause stoping the wrap on the angry-looking tentacle mark on his skin.

"What do you think I was talking about?" I smile evilly.

"I thought you were talking about my jokes and wonderful sense of humor." I tie off the bandage and put away my first aid kit. "But If you must know it has to rain first, and I have to be in it. The acidity in the rain is was caused the scales to form but there has to be enough of it. In Gotham, the rain has plenty of it, It soaks into my skin and drains my health which is why I was sick for so long. In return for taking my health, the scales form with healing agents that even baffle me. Normally I would take one and feel fine after but someone decided to take them."

"Do you pull them off?"

"Takes too long and much too painful, I just pour scalding hot water on myself and they pull away from the skin. I clean them and there you have it. Health restoring scales." He stares at me, like I said I pour milk before cereal and then pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds in that order.

"Aren't there better ways to remove them?"

"Yes, but those are back at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters I couldn't pack it with me so I had to find other methods."

He silent again so I put my stuff in the closet, take my Suit out from the bag, and place it on the hanger, the vibranium fibers shimmer in the soft lights then I stuff the rest of my things in there. I have to tell Professor Xavier what's happened on the check update next week with any luck the multi-functional com-piece found the data by now and I can see what they already know. I inwardly sigh, closing the closet and making my way back to the bed. I see Damian drawn into the scene playing on the screen, Data has made his sacrifice saving the Enterprise. I wasn't expecting to last the cleaning to last that long, but then again the poisons from the suction cups dug deeper than I thought. I put some more things away in drawers even though I didn't have much to bring. "We probably should head to bed, I imagine I have to do a proper introduction and demonstrate some form of my power."

"Yes, probably." He gets up grabbing the two scales I gave him for when he starts feeling pain again. Moving swiftly to the door, he takes one more look back then leaves. My eyes fall on Nightmare who sleeps soundly on the end of the bed. I Climb into the warm comforter letting the warmth surround me. I don't even notice myself drifting till all I can hear is static signaling that tonight was going to be a dreamless one.

_____________________________________________________________

"What exactly can you do?" Starfire walks me down to the center of a metallic room filled with weapons and tools, no doubt the training room. I look around more absorbing the room but still answer the question.

"If I see something I can almost instantly learn it or adapt to it, powers, fighting styles, languages I just have to see or hear it. I've had to control it in order not to learn everything and overload happened one time was not pretty."

"What do you mean by almost instantly?"

"Things like shape-shifting are hard to master, but if I concentrate enough I can alter my physical appearance though it takes five minutes to get there and can't hold the form very well after an hour. The first time I saw someone change form my body tried to copy it but I broke my hand instead. But oddly enough I can learn most other powers and knowledge just fine."

"Really? Well just to check could you copy this?" Starfire lifts her hand and green energy forms around it. I lift my hand to match hers and form the same energy in my body, though not green It's a lilac purple. "Sorry still have trouble getting the colors right." The woman stares in awe at my hand, the knowledge of how to use the ability is stored in my memory. I turn my hand light off and look around. She had given me the tour of the building and probably saved this for last to test what I can do. They did the same at XSFGY and had us fight in the ever-changing challenge/training room. I hear the door open and two cheery voices call out.

"Hey Y/N, about to train?" Garfield, the boy in green calls out from the railing where the door is accompanied by Jamie how still looks half asleep.

"I was just about to test her now, could you all stay there, I'm going to pull the full immersion-based training." She floats to a podium on the far side of the room. the area around me pixelated before stilling into a jungle heat and all. Monsters appear from the undergrowth enough level but not easy looking. I raise two fingers to the sky and strike lightning on them Increasing the voltage when one didn't go down, I even open a few portals in the body to warp holes from the flesh. It took about a few minutes to finish and for the simulation to fall. The dark misty cloud vanishes when I flick my wrist. I hear cheering from the side, I turn to face them everyone was now there.

"No way! Did you just see that!!" Jamie is now wide awake sharing an amazing look with Garfield, Raven is a little shocked, while Damian holds a stoic face. I feel a hand on my shoulder and follow it up to the orange-haired woman. I don't catch that she isn't stopping and is dragging me out of the room. With the way her hand had angled, I dragged out facing the other people in the room. She moves so fast that they get so small to quickly "You did excellently today, I'm so happy to welcome you to the team! We shall celebrate with a feast fit for kings and I shall cook it."

"Wait!"

"Kori!"

"Aw hell no!"

"YOU COOKED THE OTHER DAY!"

They all start running after us, shouting and trying to stop the woman. I feel refreshed after getting the OK for using my powers finally releasing some of the tension I've felt. I feel exhausted though, probably anticipating all the social interactions yet to come.

[rafesgfs]

love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

[deanwanddamons]

The Best Weekend Of Your Life - Chapter 1

Summary: You are obsessed with Supernatural and go to a convention with your best friend. You are 100% a Dean girl while your friend is a Sam girl. Both Jensen and Jared are single in this. You both catch the guys attention and things go from there.

Pairing: Jensen x reader, Jared x readers best friend

Word Count: 2774

Warning: Romance, fluff 

Song for chapter: https://youtu.be/xDeyXWyM4Oo - Thunder - Loved Walked In

It was finally here. You and F/N have been waiting months for the Supernatural convention and have managed to book a room in the same hotel it’s being held in for the whole weekend. You are both obsessed with the show. You have lost count of the amount of times you have fantasized about Jensen Ackles. The way his hands would feel on your skin, how he would smell and how your name would sound coming from those perfect lips. This was going to be a weekend to remember.

It had taken you a long time and many outfit changes to decide what you were going to wear. Finally you made your mind up and went for your trusty tight fitting Levi’s, a black bodysuit with lace sleeves, black knee high boots with 4 inch stiletto heels and cropped leather biker jacket. You had your hair dyed the deep shade of red you knew suited you and your 80’s rock chick makeup was down to a fine art.

Waiting at the train station with F/N, you can’t contain your excitement. You feel like a child on Christmas morning.

‘Fuck F/N! I can’t believe we are really going to see them in the flesh! I just know I’m gonna do something stupid in front of Jensen though. You know what I’m like!’

‘Yep Y/N, you are pretty clumsy but I’m pretty sure they are going to be way too busy to take any notice of us anyway. Can you imagine how many other people are going to be there?’ said F/N.

Your heart sinks when you realise all the effort you put into your outfit and make up will no doubt be for nothing, but you can’t let the boys see you without at least trying to look good.

The train pulls up and you and F/N board. It’s only a 20 minute journey and you could have easily come home rather than fork out £120 for a room, but you didn’t want to miss any part of the convention and the last train was at 10.20pm.

You arrive at the hotel and check into your room. Glancing at your watch you see it’s 11.30am, and the Q&A with the cast starts at 12pm so you and F/N just have time to unpack your cases, touch up your makeup, and spray some perfume. You take one last glance at your reflection ‘You're going to knock them dead Y/N’ you whisper.

Leaving the room you make your way to the lifts. Following the signs through reception, you enter a huge function room with what must be 1,000 chairs and the same amount of people milling about. There is a stage at the front of the room, with stools, microphones and a guitar setup. Your heart is beating a tattoo in your chest and you feel like you’re finding it hard to breath you’re that excited.

‘Quick Y/N,’ says F/N ‘There are two chairs right at the front!’ She grabs your hand and with a determined shove, pushes through the crowd. You reach the chairs just as two other girls get to them. Being her usual feisty self F/N dives in front of them glaring up at them, ‘I don’t think so!’ she hisses and plonks herself down, pulling you onto the other chair giggling as the girls slink away.

Getting yourself comfortable you pull out the itenary for the weekend. Other cast members are going to be answering questions, but you are only really interested in the boys. You have your ticket ready for the photo opportunity with them, and can’t wait for the moment you finally get to interact with Jensen. The talk from others who have met him is that he is much taller in real life than he seems on TV. That's why you wore heels in case it's true. You stand at 5ft without them, so that you don't want to look like a proper short arse beside him. And with Jared being 6ft 4 you would look even more ridiculous without heels. Luckily F/N is 5ft 8 with a body like a supermodel so she is going to look amazing next to Jared.

F/N grabs your hand and squeezes it, smiling broadly at you as the lights go down. Richard Speight Jr and Rob Benedict, the MC’s walk onto the stage.

One by one they introduce a few of the Supernatural cast. With thunderous applause, Jim Beaver, Ruth Connell, Mark Sheppard and Samantha Smith take to the stage, and entertain the crowd, answering questions and telling stories about each other. Finally, even though you have really enjoyed hearing them speak, it is time for the main attraction.

Your heart starts thumping and you feel your palms getting clammy when Richard announces ‘And now for the moment you have all been waiting for! Please welcome Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki!’

F/N starts squealing ‘Oh My God’ over and over again grabbing your arm. This is it! You’re finally going to see him!

And there he is. All 6ft 1 of him. Broad chest and shoulders, dressed in tight blue jeans, plaid shirt and cowboy boots. You have never seen anyone so beautiful in your entire life. Your heart literally stops and your breath catches in your throat.

Jensen looks around the room smiling and waving, and his eyes glance past you. His head swings back. Amazing green eyes meet yours. He grins straight at you and your stomach falls into your feet. Wait...did that really just happen? Did he pick you out from the crowd or was it just wishful thinking? You look behind you, thinking he must have been distracted by someone or something else, but when you turn back towards the stage those eyes are still staring at you. With a shy, almost coy smile, he lowers his eyes and turns away.

You spin around to look at F/N but she is mesmerised, staring at Jared. Her mouth hangs open, eyes shining. You have to admit, he is a very good looking guy, but nothing compared to Jensen. You’re still not sure what just happened with him. Could he really have been looking at you?

‘Don’t be stupid,’ you tell yourself, ‘there are hundreds of people in this room, why would he be looking at you!?’

You realise you’re not actually taking in anything that’s going on on the stage as you are so caught up in your own little fantasy, so you snap yourself out of it, and get your head back in the room. The boys are sitting on the stools, microphones in hand poised for questions. A plethora of shouts come from the crowd, so Jensen raises his hand, causing the room to fall silent.

‘Good evening Manchester!’ he says and bows followed by Jared. ‘Let’s crack on with the questions’

As you are at the front of the auditorium you have the best view of the boys. Questions come from people all around you, about Supernatural, their relationship with each other, other casts members and their personal lives.

‘Yes we are both single,’ Jared answers which raises a woop from the crowd.

F/N nudges you and winks ‘I swear Jensen is looking at you!’ nodding her head towards him. You glance up, and sure enough, those mesmerising eyes meet yours. You hold his gaze, smiling slightly, and tilt your head to the side. You can feel your cheeks start to redden but are determined not to be the first one to look away.

Just then, Jared starts nudging him, ‘Hey buddy! Cat got your tongue?!’

He turns away, smirking, but not before slowly licking those incredible plump lips. F/N almost loses it, gripping your hand whispering, ‘He is totally flirting with you I’m telling you!’

‘Don’t be mental!’ you tell her, laughing, but inside your shaking. Is he? No, he can’t be?

The questions keep on coming until Jensen picks up the guitar. There is an audible hush around the room when he starts to play. His fingers move quickly and deftly over the strings and you recognise the song. It’s ‘Love Walked In’ by Thunder. He slowly raises his head to the microphone, looks you straight in the eye and starts to sing.

‘So tired of waiting I walked an empty land

I was looking for something to help me understand But bad luck kept turning my dreams into sand I didn't want pity, I had my share of friends I wanted somebody more special than the rest I was aching inside like I was approaching the end Just about that moment the timing was so right You appeared like a vision sent down to my life I thought I was dreaming when I saw you that night

That's when love walked in through my door That familiar feeling I had once before love walked in through my door And it felt so strange’

You stare intently at him the whole time he is singing. The look on his face and the sparkle in his eyes makes you realise that you haven’t been imagining it. It’s as though you are the only two people in the room. You are certain that time has stopped and your lungs fail to take in deep breaths.

All too soon the song ends to huge applause. Jensen finally averts his gaze from yours and puts the guitar back on its stand.

‘Thank you so much!’ he says bowing ‘hopefully see you at the photo opportunity!’ The boys leave the stage, both of them glancing over their shoulders straight at you and F/N.

‘What the fuck just happened then!’ F/N yells throwing her arms around you in tight hug. ‘That man wants you Y/N. He didn’t stop staring at you the whole time he was singing! It’s as though he was undressing you with his eyes!’

Could she be right? All sorts of thoughts are flying around your brain. He probably does this all the time. Chooses someone in the crowd to make feel good for those few moments, then moves on to the next girl.

F/N looks at her watch,‘Come on Y/N. The photo opp with the boys is starting now. I can’t wait to get my hands on Jared!’

You and F/N rush through the throng of people to a side room where quite a crowd has gathered. You sigh, knowing it’s going to be a long wait for you to see Jensen again. The queue seems to go on forever and you can feel yourself getting more and more impatient. After what feels like an eternity, you can finally see them. Laughing and smiling with fans, camera flashes going off all around. F/N sequels, clapping her hands together. ‘Almost there Y/N!’

It’s your turn. Jensen has his back to you, a glass of water in his hand. He turns, and spots you waiting. His beautiful face lights up, lips turning into the biggest smile and he beckons you over. You can hardly move your legs they are shaking so much, but you manage to put one foot in front of the other and walk over to him.

‘Hey!’ He says, his 6ft 1 frame huge compared to yours. You catch a faint whiff of his aftershave and he smells incredible.

“H-hi." you stutter, closing your eyes tightly as you silently curse yourself for your nerves.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks beaming at you.

‘I’m Y/N and this is F/N.’ Gesturing to your friend, but she is completely distracted by Jared who is already engaged in a full blown conversation with her.

‘Y/N,’ he says quietly in his deep, sexy voice. Wow! It sounded even better than you ever imagined when you had fantasised about this moment. ‘I saw you in the crowd, you were sat at the front right?’ He asks.

‘Yes,’ you reply, ‘And you sang one of my favorite songs!’

‘I could tell by looking at you that you would be a rock chick,’ he responds, eyes travelling down your body, back up to your face, ‘girl after my own heart.’

You swallow hard, not quite believing you are having this conversation with him. ‘Look’ he says, putting his arm around you and pulling you towards him. He looks around conspiratorially, ‘I hate the fact we only get a few minutes to chat to everyone, and this is really not something I would normally do, but I can’t leave this town not having gotten to know you a little bit better.’

Your heart stops then quickly picks up its beat again. ‘Well, we are here for the weekend so if you have any down time....’ you say confidently, although inside you have turned to jelly.

Jensen turns away, reaches for a piece of paper and a pen, ‘Write your number down, quickly, before they move you long,’ he chuckles, handing them to you. You do as he asks. The photographer is growing impatient, so Jensen whispers 'How about photo of us?’ and slides his arm around your waist. You reach behind him and silently slip the paper with your number on into the back pocket of his jeans. You feel the swell of his fantastic ass under your hand as you do so and are amazed at how wonderful it feels.

He looks at you and winks, understanding what you have just done, and places his hand on your face, turning you to look at him just as the camera goes off. You smirk up at him, staring into his eyes, hoping this moment could last forever.

‘Can I text you later?’ he husks. All you can do is nod. He gives you a quick hug and steps away from you. You feel F/N grab your arm,shouting ‘Thanks guys you are amazing!’ as she pulls you away.

‘You are not going to believe what just happened!’ F/N squeals, jumping up and down on the spot.

‘Jared asked for your number?’ you ask.

‘How did you know?’

‘Because Jensen asked for mine too!’ You grin as you say it, still not believing it just happened ‘Don’t get too excited though,’ you warn F/N, ‘it doesn’t mean to say they will contact us.’

‘Come on,’ you say to F/N, ‘Let’s check out the expedition hall. I’m starving and there are food and drink stands there. Let’s grab something to eat.’

You're not really that hungry, but need to do something to occupy yourself and after that encounter with Jensen, you need some sugar. You make your way towards the hall, and wander around trying to decide what to get. There’s plenty on offer, and decide on a pancake with maple syrup, and a Diet Coke, hoping it will calm the butterflies that are zooming around in your stomach. F/N heads off to find somewhere to sit as you go to the stand to place your orders.

Tray in hand, you make your way through the crowd to the table she has found. Dropping down into the seat opposite F/N, you take a small bite of your food. It’s delicious, but your mouth is so dry you find it hard to swallow. You take a sip of the Diet Coke, and try to relax.

The first few bars of ‘Back in Black’ alerts you that you have a text, so you pull your phone from your back pocket.

‘Fucking hell!’ You almost drop it when you see the message. Jensen has actually texted you! What the fuck!? How are you going to respond?

‘Nnnooooo,’ F/N yells snatching the phone off you, almost choking on her pancake. ‘Oh my God Y/N. Answer him!’

You take the phone back off her and hand shaking, type a message back. The responses come thick and fast.

CHAPTER TWO

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings: nothing other than some swearing and maybe a little angst if you squint (?)

A/n: chapter 2 it's finally here!! I don't know how to feel about this since I've hit writers block quite a few times while writing this,I wanted to make it longer than the first one, which it is, but I don't know. Sorry about the moodboards they're easy and fun to do, so I'll probably do more lmao. Thanks for reading and feedback is always appreciated :) anyway enjoy!!

The first night at her father’s cabin was spent reminiscing of all the times she has been there when her family was complete. Her father was a fisherman, so he usually would wake the girls up and take them to the lake to teach them how to fish. Y/n was quite good at it, her sister Remy on the other hand was not kin of the early activities her father would take them to.  Y/n found her father’s old fishing roads at the back of the house; she’d probably end up selling them or donating them to the local shop back in town.  It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be.  It’s been five years since her father had passed and the wound was still fresh; her father had been her best friend through life.  He was a kind man with a wicked sense of humor, he was the backbone of their family, so when he passed it was harder and harder to go back home to her mother who apparently didn’t took him long to find someone else to spend the rest of her life with.  That was something Y/n wasn’t happy about; is not that she didn’t want for her mother to be happy, on the contrary, it was that her father’s death was still very much fresh on her mind and she was not ready to move on from that just yet.  That was part of the reason why she moved back to his old cabin; to make peace with his death, and try to live a happy life just like her father had wanted for her.

So far she wasn’t doing a good job at it. 

In the mess that her father had left on the basement of the house she found more and more stuff that belonged to him and it was hard for her no to cry; being surrounded by her father’s presence was something she wasn’t quite ready to do apparently.  She found his old camera inside of a box.  The box was filled with Polaroid’s of her, some with her sister and her mother and some of the house.  His father was an amateur photographer and that camera was a gift from her in his 50’s birthday.  He loved It so much that he took it everywhere with him.  He used to say that a picture could tell a better story than words could muster, which it used to annoy her given that she was a writer; writing was her life and for her father to say something like that would make her roll her eyes, but now looking at the photographs she realized he was right.  There he was smiling at the camera hugging her closer to his body, laughing because he was squeezing her so hard that her face could barely be seen, nevertheless her sister took the picture.  She sniffed looking around and drying her tears, it was going to be harder than she thought.  She grabbed the box and the camera and took them upstairs with her, promising that tomorrow she would organize everything and would set her life in motion.  After all she would do it for her father, if not for her.

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

It was seven a.m. when she heard a knock on her door and groaned, hoping that whoever was brave enough to disrupt her sleep would just go away, but of course she wasn’t that lucky. The knocking intensified until she threw the covers of her bed and shivered when the cold morning air hit her warm body.  Apparently sleeping with a short sleeved shirt and some shorts wasn’t a good idea in winter.  She opened the door without looking who it was; she was already in a bad mood, one: because who the hell comes all the way to the middle of the woods to wake someone up at the crack of dawn –overdramatic as always—and two: nobody knew she was back in town so who the hell was banging on her door so early? Her question was quickly answered when she was face to face with non-other that the annoying man from yesterday.

“What are you doing here?” she asked confused “and so early in the morning” she added bitterly trying her hardest to show her distaste of his visit.

“Good morning to you too” the guy replied sarcastically. “Like I told you yesterday, your father put me in charge of his place and since you’re here now, and since I’m sure you’re not aware of how a cabin is run, I thought I’d explain to you, so you don’t tear this place down” he said smiling at her now, showing a cute smile that made her stomach turn but not in a good way. He was cocky and she didn’t like that. Not that much at least.

“Is it necessary that you come here at 7 a.m. to do this?” she asked through gritted teeth. She couldn’t believe the audacity of this man.

“Yes, because unlike you I can’t lose my time with people who decided to come live in a cabin in the middle of the woods because her life in the big city wasn’t working for her” he said dryly, almost as if he was angry about it.  Y/n was taken aback with his response and look at him in disbelief, partly because of how quickly his playful and cocky attitude changed to a more serious and dark one, and partly because he was right about her reason for coming back to Mystic so suddenly. It was true that her life in the city was not going well and she thought some fresh air from the small town that saw her grow would be a good change, but she wasn’t going to give this stranger man the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He was so right.

“Excuse me Mr. Grinch” she said, earning a glare from the boy. “I don’t need you here. I’ve spent years in this cabin; I know exactly how to keep this place running okay? So you can go now and steal Christmas or whatever that Grinch’s like you do” she said turning around leaving the boy standing at the door.  It was her second day back in town and she was already infuriated with this man. Who the hell does he think he is to talk to her like that?

The man on the other hand was fuming; he didn’t like her attitude, and he certainly didn’t like to be compared to one of the most famous grumps in the world, especially by someone who didn’t even know him. He had his reasons to be that way, to be guarded against everyone and everything; that was at least his justification for his shitty attitude, but Y/n was not going to put up with that.

“Listen city girl, I’m not here to discuss how you should or should not do, your father gave me explicit instructions to keep this place intact, and unlike you, I plan to follow them” he said walking closer to the girl. Y/n was angry now. She didn’t even have her morning coffee and she was already arguing with a man, her morning could not be better. Before she could start spewing insults at the boy he started talking again.

“Do you know how much firewood you need to survive the winter? Because no offense but I don’t think chopping wood is one of your strong suits. Or do you know how to properly clean and dry the wood? Or do you know what kind of stain you need to use in this particular house? I’m sure you do right, since you’ve always came here?” he asked question after question making the girl fell smaller with each one. It was true that she didn’t know much about what it took to keep cabin running, but she was stubborn as hell and was not going to back down from an argument, not when her pride was on the line.

“I don’t need some lumberjack wannabe to tell me how to take care of my house, I can always talk to someone else, or hire someone to the maintenance for me” she replied smugly, enjoying the way his face contorted with each word she said. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair trying to calm himself down, it wasn’t ideal that he was stubborn as hell too.  Their personalities collided and no one was going to back down if that meant admitting they were wrong.

“Your father asked me to take care of this place, and I will do it whether you like it or not” he said looking straight into her eyes.  She would be a big fat liar if she said that his stare wasn’t doing things to her.  Her stomach twisted and her heartbeat accelerated looking at the man in front of her. He was hot and handsome as hell, his brown eyes became darker the more frustrated he got and she imagined herself in a different situation with those brown eyes staring at her with such intensity. She quickly shook her head to get rid of such sinful thoughts and cleared her throat trying to come remember what he said last.

 The brown eyed boy wasn’t too different from her. His eyes darted towards her chest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra and the cold air of the morning made her nipples hard, but she was too engrossed trying arguing with him to notice. But he did notice my god.  He removed his eyes quickly from her chest and the next thing he noticed was her long legs; he imagined himself in a different situation where her legs would be wrapped around his waist. He shook his head gently removing those thoughts from his head, hopefully she wouldn’t have noticed the way he was checking her out. She didn’t, but she did ask him a question.

“What?” he said feeling stupid for thinking about taking the woman in front of him against the nearest wall, instead of listening to her.

“I asked what your name is, or should I call you Grinch?” she asked with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“I’m Richard, but everyone just calls me Dick.”

------

The following day Y/n woke up early that day with the intention of doing some work around the house.  She wasn’t sure yet what would happen to the cabin; she thought about selling the place once she finished with the maintenance and some remodeling.  A cabin in the woods would give her some good money; but detaching herself from the house where she spent half her childhood and teenage years was hard.

She still had time though.  She was taking some time away from the city so spending time away from everyone and being on her own would do her good. Or at least that was what she said to herself.  She decided after having her second breakfast –which consisted of some coffee—that she needed some groceries if she was going to spend the winter in the woods.  The stores weren’t so far from the cabin so she grabbed her wallet, keys and wrapped herself in her warmest clothes to go out and face the winter of Connecticut.  She made it into town in twenty minutes.  It was snowing slightly when she got out of the car, she had park just in front of Mrs. Bradley old market. That place was already when she was a kid and apparently was still standing strong. Mrs. Bradley was the nicest woman she had ever met, the woman would always sneak a candy or two for her and her sister when they were shopping with her dad, her mother didn’t like that and scoffed whenever that happened but Mrs. Bradley would pay no mind and do it whenever she could.  The bell atop of the door dinged when she entered the shop, making the old woman lift her gaze and when she recognized a smile stretched across her lips.

“Y/n! Oh look at you!” the old woman beamed at her making her smile even bigger. The woman moved from her spot behind the register to hug the girl, which the later reciprocated with as much enthusiasm as the woman.

“You look so beautiful; look how much you’ve grown!”

“Thanks Mrs. Bradley you’re looking good too, didn’t age a day.”

“Lucky for you flattery would get you everywhere with me” the woman said, making the girl laugh. One thing she loved about this town was the people.  Most of the town had seen her grow from a little kid to the woman she is today. She had a special place for everyone in this town, especially Mrs. Bradley, she was like the grandmother she never had.

“Well lucky me then” she said giggling with the old woman.

“I haven’t seen you in what? Five years? ” Mrs. Bradley asked rubbing her hands along her arms in a comforting manner “I’m sorry about your father, we were all very sad to hear that he was gone, I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. You were so closed” she said smiling sadly.

“Thanks, and yeah it was…hard, that’s why it took me so long to come back here” she admitted; it was easy for her to talk to this woman, easier than with her mother for sure.

“I know sweetie, I know. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.” She was so grateful to have someone like her that she could confide in about pretty much everything.

“Yeah, and I’ll be around for a long time I think,” she confessed. The old woman hugged her once again and professed how happy she was that she had decided to stick around for a while promising that they would have a chat whenever she was free.  The girl nodded excited to finally be back somewhere where she felt comfortable enough to call it home.  She apologized to the customer that was waiting for the women to finish chatting and made her way to the back of the store to get some groceries.  She was halfway done with every item on her list when she found herself in front of the cereal aisle; she scanned the shelf looking for her favorite brand, she smiled triumphantly when she found the last box at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes trying to reach the box before someone snatched it out of her grasp. Her head snapped quickly to find the body attached to the hand that took the last box of cereal and of course it had to be no other than Dick.

“Give it back” she said, already annoyed by her presence. Dick looked down at her acknowledging her presence and chuckled when he saw her frowning like a child.

“No” he said, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. Her mouth was slightly open, her brows were furrowed and he knew she was ready to retaliate.

“I saw it first, I even grabbed it first before you literally took it out of my hands” she explained “So technically it’s mine” she said crossing her arms across her chest.

“Technically it’s in my basket, so it’s mine,” he said. He would never admit it but as much as he was annoyed by her, he still enjoyed pissing her off.

“You stole it! So give it back now” she reached a hand waiting for him to return her cereal.

“Nop” he said and turned around leaving her with her mouth open. She was trying to think of a good comeback but dick was halfway across the store by then.

“At least he does justice to his name” Y/n said grabbing a different box of cereal, sighing she continued her shopping hoping not to bump into Dick for the rest of the day.

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

Dick’s phone rang the second he sat inside his car.  He sighed when he saw the name on the screen.

“Bruce” he said coldly. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture now; he had shit to do other than to listen to what his dad had to say.

“Son, how are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer the phone” Bruce said making Dick roll his eyes and his passive-aggressiveness.

“Yeah, well I did. Can I help you with something?” he was already stressed about this whole thing. He moved from Gotham to avoid everything and everyone; but apparently Gotham did not move on from him.

“Not really I was just checking on you, since you don’t seem to call much these days” Bruce said sounding a little…sad. Dick felt a pang in his chest. Guilt.  He knew Bruce was not doing this on purpose, despite everything he loved his dad and Bruce loved him too, but being reminded every week or two how he seemed to forget about his family stung. 

“I know, and I’m sorry it’s just…it’s still hard,” Dick confessed over the phone. He heard Bruce sighing on the other line.

“I know kid, I know it’s hard. But I thought moving there was supposed to do good to you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened that’s the thing” he said not making much sense “Nothing happened. Things just stayed the same as it was back in Gotham and I honestly don’t know what I was expecting when I moved out here. I guess I’m just mad that my feelings didn’t change after all the time I spent here” he pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn’t know why was he saying all this now, he spent so much time lying to himself and his father about being okay and now the words came out of his mouth like a damn breaking after holding the water for far too long.

“Look Dick, I know you don’t like when I give you advice but listen to me son” Bruce said in a serious tone “Things won’t change unless you make them change. Moving out was just the first step, maybe it was a good one or maybe not. But things won’t be different because you don’t want them to be different.  Starting over is a big step in life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad one.  You need to start thinking less and start acting more.”

As much as Dick hated to admit it, Bruce was right.  He wondered many times if the only reason why he wasn’t moving out in life was because he was subconsciously sabotaging his own life; and the answer was yes.  He had many opportunities to forget about her and find someone new to help him heal his broken heart, but he refused to take them because he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of opening to someone only for that someone to leave him like it happened the last time. He knew it was stupid to hold onto the pain from the past, and that not everyone was going to hurt him, but the fear was there and he spent so many years being comfortable inside the wall he built around himself, that thinking of going out of them was scary.

“I know, and I try but…I can’t”

“I know son, but being scared it’s just part of the healing process. You can’t throw your life away for one misstep. It’s not worth it. She wasn’t worth it” Bruce said trying to lift the boys’ spirits.

“Thanks dad, I kind needed this long overdue conversation” he said sincerely. He missed his family.

“No problem kid, I know I haven’t been the best example when it comes to relationships, but I know a thing or two” Bruce joked. Dick smiled wide, missing the old man and his antics.

“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later dad” he said, turning the engine on.

"Okay kid, take care, and please don’t hesitate to call. We miss you, I think even Jason does”

“Tell him I miss him too, and maybe one of these days you can come visit, if that’s okay with you” dick said suddenly worried about his father’s answer.

“I’d love to Dick. Very much.” He hung up the phone and smiled genuinely in what felt like years of not doing it. He was unaware of someone else looking at him from the other side of the street.

[eugenesmorphine]

The Highest Honor // A Ronald Speirs Imagine

@alienoresimagines @alienoresimagines

AN: I am very aware this isn’t historically accurate! I got this idea from a friend of mine and added my own things into it! I apologize if it doesn’t make sense or something, I am trying something new. So please do not hate on it :). And some pieces are in German, in which there are translations with them. If there are any errors, I'm sorry in advance. Also, let me know if you guys want a part two to this, I'm contemplating making a second part.

I slid on that drasted German Officer’s uniform. I was supposed to be a Paratrooper. You know, on the ground with a rifle, taking down groups of Germans. Not becoming a spy to help the French regain Paris back. I pulled my hair back into a neat bun, placing my cap on top of my head. I looked in the mirror, within my body a tinge of shame, It felt wrong wearing the enemy's uniform. Especially as a Jew myself, knowing what the Germans have been doing to my people. I applied a red lipstick. And taking one last glance at myself within the mirror, flattening down the pencil skirt and adjusting the blazer. It sent a large shiver down my spine. To look at myself and see me wearing this uniform, it was sickening. 

I took a deep breath, swallowing hard as I grabbed the door handle. Twisting it and pulling the door open. It seemed as if all of Easy Company was standing outside of my door. My cheeks heated up in the slightest. I kept my chin high. I know they didn’t like seeing me in the uniform, especially Ronald. I glanced at him, trying to make it so no one would notice me catching his eyes.

///

Captain Ronald Speirs and I had been having somewhat of a secret relationship these past few months. I’m aware it sounded dumb. Though, the officer and I were in love. But the rules in the Army were the rules. It didn’t stop us though. To my knowledge only Richard Winters knew about the two of us, and both Ron and I knew he would never say a word. The two of us would barley and even speak during the day. Only in briefings with the rest of the higher rankings. When it came to night time though, when everyone was asleep. Ron and I would sneak out just like teenagers. The two of them would go sit somewhere more private and talk for hours. Or do other things. Like kisses and so on. Oh god was he a good kisser. Behind that rough and scary front he put on, with me, he wasn’t like that. He was actually quite sweet. 

You must be wondering how Ron and I actually came to be what we are now. I showed up to Easy Company, the first female Paratrooper yet. I was a translator, originally supposed to be the secretary and just translating documents. I was trained for combat but I was supposed to stay back with the higher ups. That was until Major Horton actually saw more potential in me. I was put on the line, I stayed with officers mostly on the line and when going into places like Carentan and Bastogne.

I had met Mr. Speirs when we had first Parachuted into Normandy and he was the first man I had linked up with. I remember hearing stories about him, and it was with him where I killed my first set of Germans. We spoke a few words that night, though it was safe to say that after that night, after I saved his ass from a Kraut, I guess that where “we” began. We began getting secretly closer and closer ever since that day. Leading to all our small accomplishments, us sneaking our first kiss inside the empty dining hall late at night, just to have Winters walk in on us. So much has gone on the fast time. I had completely fallen for Ron. And from what he said, he felt that exact same.

///

Now here I was. What seems to be decades later. When I had glanced at Ron for a few seconds, I could see the nervousness etched into his face. One of the French Resistance leaders approached me quickly though, pulling me and the rest of Easy Company along for a quick briefing before this mission.  On the surface, my face was calm and straight forward. My voice is calm and steady. But mentally, I was terrified. God knows what the German’s would do to me if they found out I was a spy. Let alone a Jew. 

“Listen Corporal L/N, we are going to send you in. You are to only speak in German, you are Adeline Lieslotte, you are there as a secretary. You are going in to get as much information about anything and everything you can memorize, take, whatever. Understand?” The man’s French accent was thick. Though, I understood what was needed of me. I nodded in response to him. Gulping as I watched everyone except Ron walk out. I was nervous for what I needed to do in just an hour.  

I watched as Ronald quickly walked over to the open door, looking outside to see if anyone was around. He quickly shut the door. Walked back to me. He immediately cupped my face, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss was so firm, but you could feel the fear from deep within him. I grasped at his messy hair. My fingers raked through his hair. I pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. His face was soft, like a lost puppy almost.

“Please Y/N, please be safe. I can’t lose you too. Come back to me,” he pleaded. His voice was broken up. He was actually worried. Like really worried. I cupped his face, bringing him down to be eye level with me. Looking directly into his eyes.

“I promise you Ronald Speirs, that I will make it back to you,” I promised. Giving him one more peck on the lips before my name was called. I pulled away from him. Flattening my skirt and applying new lipstick. I gave Ronald one last glance before walking out the door. The only sound was my heels clicking against the hardwood floor.  

Now was the time. I was in a Jeep getting to a German building filled to the brim with high end Nazis. I clutched a suitcase in my hand as I hopped out of the jeep and began walking into the building. My heart was pounding and I had thousands of thoughts coursing through my brain. I tried to seem calm on the outside, and it seemed to be working. I began walking through all the different floors, office spaces. Sneaking pieces of documents, reading over small documents, trying to listen in and write down things from conversations. I kept doing this for three hours. It was all going well, until I was approached by which seemed like a high ranking Nazi Officer. I gulped as he approached me.

“Hallo, wie scheint dein Name zu sein? Ich glaube nicht, dass ich dich schon einmal hier gesehen habe?” he asked, (hello, what seems to be your name? I don't think I've seen you here before?). I gulped. Was he on to me?  Play it cool Y/N, you are fine. You got this. Nothing is going to happen. Right? 

“Mein Name ist Adeline Lieselotte, ich wurde als andere Sekretärin hierher gebracht,” I replied (My name is Adeline Lieselotte, I was brought here as another secretary).My german coming out smooth and the accent perfect. 

“Sekretär? Ich wurde nicht über eine neue Sekretärin informiert. Wenn überhaupt, wurde mir mitgeteilt, dass wir mehr als genug davon hatten,” His voice was sceptical (Secretary? I was not informed of a new secretary. If anything I was informed that we had more than enough of them). I felt my anxiety levels start rising. Was I caught? 

“Es tut mir leid, dass niemand Sie informiert hat, Sir. Ich dachte, Sie wurden informiert,” I answered, my words coming out rushed and seemingly nervous (I'm sorry no one had informed you sir, I thought you had been informed). I just screwed myself over. Think of Ronald, go to your happy place. You’re going to make it out of this Y/N and you are going to make it out with the love of your life. I watched as the Nazi officer’s face changed. Into one of the shit eating smirks as if he knew something was up. I was screwed. I mentally began praying.

“Nun, Miss Lieselotte, möchten Sie mit mir einen Spaziergang in die Vorderseite des Gebäudes machen? Ich würde gerne mehr darüber erfahren, wofür Sie sie beauftragt haben,” he said, his voice strangely cherry (Well, Miss Lieselotte, would you like to take a walk with me out into the front of the building? I would like to know more of what you were assigned you to do). I swallowed hard and put on a smile. Clutching my suitcase in my hand tightly. I knew exactly what he was doing. The Nazis already knew that us Americans were around this perimeter, but just didn’t know where. I knew that Easy Company was hidden around the thick forests in front of the building, waiting for me to return safely. They must know that too. Shit. 

I followed the officer outside. The cold air hit my face and it sent a shiver throughout my entire body. And as soon as I went to walk down those stairs, I felt a hard shove from two hands placed into the center of my back. I went flying forward, my small frame hitting each step. I felt my knee get a hard and large scrape across it, the warm blood trickling down my knee. I’m finished. My body hit the snowy ground, it already ached from the hard fall down the many marble and rock stairs. Though, I put my hands beneath my body and pressed myself upwards. I was about to stand up before I felt a hard leather boot right in my ribcage. A loud yelp left my lips as I rolled over on my side , clutching it. For sure at least one rib was broken.

“You think I wouldn’t find out you stupid American? You think the others didn’t see you grabbing our documents and listening in our conversations? You Americans are even dumber than we thought,” he spoke in English. It was broken up and his German accent was strong with it. I looked up at him, Panting as I tried to stand once more. This time I felt his leather gloves first collide with my cheek. The force knocked me right back down. I thought I was seeing birds flying around my head. I looked back up at him, he had an evil smirk plastered onto his face. I then looked to the tree line. Knowing my Easy Company was there watching me. I tried looking hard into the thick brush of the trees and bushes. I could see them. I could see my men. Their eyes filled with horror as they began watching me getting beaten. 

I felt my Garrison cap be ripped off and the hair on top of my head being gripped into the officer’s fist. He yanked it back, arching my head up. He got close into my ear and whispered, “I know your little friends are out there, why don’t you just tell me where your camp is? All of this will be over if you just work with us,” as he turned my head towards the woods. He squeezed my cheeks with his free hands, making the blood that had filled my mouth drip on to my chin and into the snow. I would never give my men’s position away. No matter what. I just stayed quiet, and when the Nazi demanded an answer once more. I used my eyes to look at him.

“Fick dich,” I responded, biting down hard onto his hand (Fuck You). He yelled out in pain, slamming my head down into the snow. I watched as he grabbed onto his now bleeding hand. I spit blood onto his boot and stood myself up. My legs wobbled beneath me, but I held my ground. “I can take it,” I yelled. Loud enough for the rest of Easy to hear me. I wasn’t really scared anymore. It must’ve been the adrenaline. 

I watched as the Officer looked up at me, his evil smirk changed into a look of pure anger. He walked up to me and socked me right in the eye. That would surely bruise. I stumbled backwards, bringing my hand up to the eye that was just hit. “Just tell me where they are, and I’ll maybe spare you,” he said, his thick accent spilling out of his mouth. I just stared at him, not a word leaving my bleeding lips. My silence did not please him. The large officer then grabbed my neck and slammed me against one of the German trucks. His hand tightened around my throat, leaving me slightly gasping for air. I brought my hands up to try to hit his hand off my throat. His free hand reached up and slugged me in the nose. My head snapped to the right from the force. I could feel warm blood begin flowing down my face. I coughed on the blood, making it spray on the abusers face. I kept gasping for air, my head began to seemingly spin. I watched weakly as his hand went up and he hit me again. And then again. And then again. Each hit felt harder than the last.

I weakly looked back at the Officer. Both from lack of oxygen and the amount of times I had just been slugged. My eyebrow had been split open along with my lip, my mouth was pouring blood along with my nose. I watched weakly as he raised his hand again, not even flinching as he cocked his arm back, ready to strike. Though, I just closed my eyes, waiting for the blow. But it all cut short from a huge explosion coming from inside their base. What the hell was going on. My eyes opened heavily, the officer’s fist was still in the air as he looked in the direction of the explosion. I followed with the same actions. I was just as confused. He dropped me onto the ground and ran into what looked like the burning remains of the building I was just sneaking around in. Screams and cries of pain, and Germans running out into the snow engulfed in flames. Then gunshots rang off. I was deliriously on the ground, trying to push my now broken feeling body up. But my arms were so tired and they hurt so bad, I couldn’t get myself up. I began trying to crawl. What a pathetic sight that must’ve been. I watched as boots ran past me, like they were going into the fire.

I looked up. It was Easy Company! Or was the multiple blows to my brain bucket catching up to me. I heard someone calling my name. It sounded so foggy and static it seemed. I looked up, once more trying to get myself up, but once again failing. My eyes met with his. It was my Ronald. Oh god was I happy he was here. His face was softened, and so worried. How bad did I look? 

“Oh my god, Doll. You are going to be okay baby, Doc’s going to get you all patched up. I promise,” he tried to reassure me. I nodded, coughing up more blood. “I knew I shouldn’t of let you go on this stupid mission,” he muttered angrily, carrying me in bridal style. I felt so tired, I could barely even hold my arms up to gently wrap them around Ron’s neck.  My eyes got so heavy, I could barely keep them open. I felt a light hand tap my face as I could feel Ronald’s pace quicken. I opened my eyes to see his gaze, his worried filled gaze. “Come on Y/N, stay awake, you got this,” he begged. I nodded, swallowed. It was like the blood kept filling my mouth and blood kept dripping down my face. It made me feel so gross. 

Ronald got me to Doc Roe just minutes later. They laid me down on a table and that's when it all went dark. I was just so tired, I couldn;t keep my eyes open for the life of me. I hope Ronald wasn’t upset with me. Now I was left in silence, in my own thoughts. Why was there an explosion? That wasn’t the plan I was told at all. What would've happened if I was still inside? Oh I have a few words to pick with the person that ordered our Flyboys and bombers. I was going to let them have it. But for now, maybe a little sleep won’t hurt. 

///

My eyes blinked open. I don’t think I’ve ever had more of a painful migraine in my life. I propped myself up, feeling a sharp pain from within my ribcage. Causing me to wince and place a free hand on the area. Looking down to see my torso, tightly wrapped white bandages around my ribs. I sighed as I looked around the little aid station. The bitter cold within the room told me that I never left. I spotted a familiar officer laying uncomfortably in a chair in the corner of the little room I was in. He was out cold. Visibly being able to see the exhaustion exteched onto his features. My face softened at the sight. Though, my attention was grasped on someone else when the person walked in, clearing their throat. I looked up and no other than Doc Roe. He gave me a slight nod in which I returned before he walked over next to me. 

“You seem like you are recovering well. You had two broken ribs, severe concussion, the inner linings of your throat were swollen and bruised, a break in your wrist, and a small break in your femur, split lip, lucky your nose wasn’t broken, eyebrow was split open, bruises on you cheek and temple, cheek has a cut. Though, along with other minor problems, everything was taken care of. I heard from Winters that you might be getting a medal from riskin’ your life getting all those documents. Especially keeping quiet when that Nazi officer was beating you like no tomorrow. All the information you received in that suit case of yours was obtained and boy was it useful. Hell, some of it might help end the war!” this was the most I’ve ever heard Roe speak in a conversation. There was so much he said, and so fast. I had so many injuries, but a medal? Why in the hell was I going to get a medal? What kind of medal? So many thoughts had begun spinning through my mind, I had only just woken up about five minutes ago. What the hell was going on. Most importantly, I wanted to know why in the hell did that place blow up! Was nobody else wondering this? Like at all? I shook it off, I didn’t really care anymore at this moment. I was more worried about the fact I was getting a medal.

Soon after, Ronald woke up. Getting up so fast he nearly fell over. I swung my legs over to one side of my cot. Watching as the Captain ran over to me, cupping my face and kissing me. “I thought I lost you,” he stated quietly, placing his forehead on top of mine. Roe piped in once more.

“He has been sitting in that chair the entire time. Not leaving the room once,” he said, walking out of the room. I looked at Ron, his cheeks reddening. I smiled, laughing softly and kissed him once more.

“I’m guessing everyone knows about us now?” I asked, scratching the back of my neck. He chuckled, pulling away from me. He sat next to me and nodded. It wasn’t too big of a problem with me, it was kind of nice actually. “It’s alright Ron, I’m just happy you’re okay,” I said, holding his hand softly.

“Me?!” he exclaimed. “I’m happy you’re okay! I thought I lost you. I had to watch you get beaten like that, I couldn't even yell out to you. And when the miscommunication with our Flyboys and the bombers, I thought I really had lost you. What if you had been inside that building? What would I do without you,” he sighed. I could tell he was stressed about all this, putting so much pressure onto himself.I felt terrible. He was really tearing himself apart, I could just tell by how he looked. I gave his hand a squeeze. He looked up at me. “They are putting you in for the Medal of Honor,” he stated. My eyes grew wide and my mouth hung open. The Medal of Honor? For what? I don’t in any way deserve that high of an honor. Or any honor.

“Why me?” I asked in disbelief. I was being put in for the Military's highest honor. In every branch, there aren’t many that receive this honor. I was terrified for some reason. I didn’t know how to act and or what to do. I came into this war as a translating secretary for Easy Company, and now somehow, I was receiving the Medal of Honor. I took a deep breath, staring forward at the wall. Just trying to take in all of the information. 

“The reason why you are receiving it is because you went into the Nazi filled building, being a Jewish American who speaks German for starters, as a spy. You showed up to be a translator and secretary. You weren’t even supposed to be on the line and or closer to changer than a minimal amount. Then here you were, volunteering to go into an environment that you know you could easily die and or get captured in. You were able to get so much intel with stealing copies of documents, listening to conversations and writing notes, taking pictures, we now have a huge upper hand that the Nazis don’t know about. You got caught, and even being beaten so bad, you didn’t give out our position. You nearly died while Doc was stitching you up. You had so much head trauma, blood loss, and your throat almost swollen shut. Though, I knew you knew that you could’ve died in the hands of that man or on that table, but you knew what you were sacrificing. You knew that no sacrifice was too great. That is why you are getting the Medal of Honor. Horton is showing up here along with one of the Generals, I just know that you’ll be getting the Medal the day we leave to get on the ships when the war is over. In front of everyone,” I gulped, looking at my lap. This was all happening so fast. Was the war being close to ending? I sighed, clutching my lover’s hand. I looked over at him.

“As long as I am with you, Captain Ronald Speirs, I don’t care where I go, what I do, and or what I get, as long as I have you in my life I’m content with life,” I answered. He leaned in and kissed me, tracking his hand up into my hair. I felt his amazing smile against my lips as I brought my hands to his face. I was speaking the truth, as long as I am with him, I was happy no matter what. I could care less if I got that Medal now or in twenty years, I have Ronald. That is way more important to me.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Occupational hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn't even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, stalkers.

Part II

Adrian's face smiled at you in the mirror, she was a nice looking woman, a few years younger than you, yet ten times more of a functional adult.

"Reservations are at 10:00 for brunch, and your... friend is waiting in the living room" Her voice had an ounce of disgust referring to Barry.

"Great! He is on time, and please don't be so harsh on him, I'll be down in a minute, chat with him, he is nice" She rolled her yes at you and walked out of your room, you knew she meant well and it made you happy having someone that caring around, even when this time you have lied to her about the true nature of your relationship with Barry.

You finished fixing up your hair and put on the summer dress you had picked up for you date it was the middle of June and it felt nice to have a reason to leave the house well dressed beside the fear that one of the many paparazzi lurking around would get a picture and sell it to a magazine with a stupid title.

And on the other hand even when you don't want to admit it, you were desperate to spend more time with Barry, you were not sure if he changed his mind out of pity, ambition or if he genuinely wanted to help you, but there was something about him so interesting you just needed to know more.

"You look beautiful" His del voice and the compliment take you by surprise "Shall we?" Even when chivalrous things like offering his arm like that or opening the car dormant nothing to you, it felt nice coming from him. "There was a bug in your living room, in the lamp next to your couch" He said once you were inside changing his voice back to the monotone he had used the day before and you felt a bit disappointed that his flattery was a lie.

"You know what? You are fired I'm going to kill him myself" You said jokingly, shaking that feeling away "How on earth did that psycho put a microphone in my house? I'm going to destroyed that shit the minute I get back" you started driving faster without noticing, the road helped to calm your nerves.

"Oh that that won't be necessary" He said showing you the small device crushed in his palm. "I crushed before Adrian could see"

"Then what you said earlier..." You started confused.

"That was a compliment, do big actresses don't receive those anymore?" He asked and youu could see a small grin on his face.

"So you met Adrian?" You better change the subject before things get complicated.

"I did, how much exactly did she knows? She send me an email with your address, and a few notes about places you like to go and stuff like that but she didn't mention anything else" He was looking at the road and you suspected he haven't see this side of L.A. before.

"Well, she knows I'm from Columbus, so I told her you were a childhood friend that came to work here as an extra in a movie I had a small role in, that we reconnected over emails and that now we wanted to explore more of that feelings" a complete fabrication but she had believed it and that made you feel worst about lying.

"I'm from Cleveland, but that would do. So you finally didn't tell her the truth?"

"I couldn't, you were right, is better if less people know" you were already at the restaurant so you allowed the valet to take away your car and you took his hand cautiously waiting for a reaction but he didn't pull away and just started walking in "How did your boss take it? That you end up taking the job?"

"Fuches is not my boss" He said again exasperated, just what you intended, there was a cute frown on his forehead when he do that "And he is happy, he didn't want to work with you either, so now he can ignore the whole thing and simply change his work number."

"A true dream that guy huh?" Even whit the heels you have to look up to him every time you talked to him.

"He is... terrible" He said after struggling to fine a compliment for Fuches "But just like you feel about Adrian, he is family." He talked low so only you could listen and you both walked behind the waitress to your table, in the open area of the restaurant. He opened the chair for you and wait for the waitress to walk away to ask a question that clearly was trying to get in the conversation since earlier "This Maverick guy, is he dangerous? Did he ever beat you or..."

"Or?" You said rising a brow but he couldn't get the words out "He is not that stupid, he wouldn't do anything that could physically incriminate him, but he was rough in verything, I really don't like to talk about it". Your palms were sweaty and the knot on your chest start tightening.

"I'm sorry" He said seeing your obvious discomfort "Is just that I have a friend, and I think she is working with him"

"A friend?" You asked very interested and it was his turn to be uncomfortable "Look Barry he is a bad men, I won't sugarcoat it for you, but it all depends on how known she is, he preys on extras and new faces with promises of big parts, but if she has a talking named role he probably would leave her alone."

"She is one of the leads I guess, is that movie of the moms that get divorce and fall for each other?" He said relieved with what you have said.

"Fantastic Richard make a movie to make everyone around him believe he is a feminist and I'm here paying a men to make me look like a decent woman" you said bitterly "Don't worry she would be fine, he would be the most perfect gentleman for everything about that project to cover his ass, your friend is safe" you reassure him and the waitress returned to take your orders, just when you were desperate for a drink.

"Are you ready to order?" She had a big smile with white teeth and bright pink lipstick and you could see her checking out Barry without discretion.

"Two black coffees please" He said before you could speak "I want the mushrooms omelet and the fruit cocktail" He said giving back the cart.

"And you madame?"

"A whites only spinach omelet, thank you" You said and she walked away no without giving one last look at him. "Coffee?"

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" that actually made you laugh and he was pleased with your reaction "But actually there is somewhere I would like to take you after this and it would be better if you are completely sober" You gave him an intrigued look but he didn't say much else about it.

You eat in a comfortable silence, and you studied his face and his movements, how he keep moving his cup on the table and how he drink never taking the cup by the handle, like it was a glass. Then a loud ring interrupted the moment and you could see your least favorite person name popping up in the screen, you were going to turn the phone off but he took it first.

"Hello?" He said casually "Hi, I'm Barry, who are you?" you couldn't hear the response but you were almost sure he should be mad. "Oh that is not possible, she is very busy at the moment, right sweetheart? Do you want to leave her a message? Oh look he hung up" He give you back the phone and you immediately turned off. "Adorable guy".

"He is going to be pissed" You said with a big smile on your face "Thank you"

After the meal he took the car to drive outside town, there was something relaxing about it, that deserted area away from everyone and everything was definitely a place where nobody will follow and you felt completely safe next to him.

"Fuches told me how you get his number" he said opening the door for you. "And I invited someone here that may be happy to see you again" He said pointing at a man a few yards from you, he was wearing a hat to hide from the sun and a black best, but you could recognize his pale skin almost instantly.

"Hank?" You asked and he start approaching "Oh god is you, I'm so happy to see you.

"Y/N! This is gonna be so much fun, when Barry said he was working with you I was so excited" He said smiling and holding both of your hands.

"Wait a minute what is going to be fun exactly, and do you know each other?" You asked but it was obvious that they did, wich confirmed that NoHo Hank was everything but an ordinary men.

"Of course we know each other, Barry trained my men to be as good as him and take down the Burmeses but then he went crazy and kill them all. But hey! Water under the bridge right Barry?" He talked about murder an mafia the way he talked about color schemes for small rooms, and you could see just how dangerous Barry Berkman's world really was.

"You worked for the Chechen mafia?" You asked Barry.

"As a consultant" He said with indignation "Let's get started, put this on" he said tossing a bag with Gym clothes from Lululemon "I .... I guessed your size" He said a bit embarrassed.

"What exactly are we doing here?" You asked him and looked at the clothes, it was a nice purple sport bra and matching leggings.

"Well your ex is an asswhole, and I'm not that sure this plan of your will work, but since I can't stay at your place all the time to stop him for get close to you, I thought it would be good if you learn to defend yoursel" He said confidently. "Also I made some recon around your house this morning, your window is facing a blindspot on a roof perfect for someone to watch you from there" You remember the insidious calls from Richard and got chills thinking he may have been watching you from so close.

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" He said sarcastically, making you laugh "I'm kidding, I actually want to take you somewhere else after brunch, and I'll be better if you are completely sober" he said with a playful look on his eyes that was enough to convince you to quit drinking...at least for that week.

You went to a small tent they have set up and put on the work out clothes to start, sadly your physical shape was no match for his, and after what he called just warm up you were sweating and panting. But you felt touch by the gesture, and your heart start holding to the illusion that he may not be doing all this for the money.

"Come on, like you mean it!" He said after you tried to hit him on the groin with your knee but stopped midair not wanting to hurt him.

"Hit him baby! Barry can take it" Hank said cheering you up, he was not actually helpful but it was nice to have him around.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on Richard, on all the pain he caused you and how much you have sacrificed to get away from him and then you hit him again this time with all your strength, and even when Barry was way stronger he bend with paint for a moment.

"Barry? Oh shit I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" You start looking at him while he still had his hand holding his hurt manhood.

"No, it's fine" He said gasping for air "That was good, now do it to Hank" he said and start laughing watching how Hank went even paler. "Oh fuck that hurt" He said no longer holding his weight and Hank run to help you stand on his feet.

"I think that's more than enough, come on big guy I'll take you home" You said and helped him back in the car. "Thanks man" You said to NoHo Hank and offered your hand but he went for a hug.

"Barry is a good guy, he could be good for you" He whispered in your ear and you nodded with a blush in your face, either you were being obvious or he was just that sensitive.

You drive to your place in silence, except for you asking him every few minutes if he was okay. You helped him to your couch and went to the kitchen to find him some ice and an ibuprofen.

"That went well" He said once you were sitting next to him on the couch and he took the pill "Now make sure you do that if that son of a bitch comes near you"

"You can be sure I will, but seriously apart from probably keeping you from being a father I have a great day" you really meant that, maybe it was the way he looked at you or the way he spoke but he made you feel safe.

"I should leave" He said then putting apart the ice pack, "I have to work in the morning and I'll go to the hospital to make sure I don't have an hernia" He said and laughed at your concerned face "I'm kidding, I'll call you" He stood up and he gave you a handshake but following your instinct you pull him closer to kiss him on th cheek, he didn't move nor say anything but gave you a timid smile and just walked outside.

The peace you felt that night, that would extend for the next month was intoxicating, for the first time in a long time you went to sleep without worrying what would the tabloids were reserving for you in the morning, even when Pop sugar had a vicious article about the "Mysterious man taking Y/N on dates in L.A." the next morning, Barry made you happy, and maybe the only cloud in your sunny day was that your relationship wasn't real, it had an expiration date and a price tag attached to it.

Week after week you tried to keep you from falling for him, forcing you to remember how you actually met, but despite the fact that he was in fact a murderer he was a good man, and even when he called himself a bad actor he was excellent at faking caring for you, at holding you in his arms at the beach and giving you his jacket so you wouldn't get sunburned.

He mastered the art of making you believe he get nervous when he would get at your place earlier than planned and you would be walking around in a see trough sleepwear dress. And you have to force yourself to believe that a tender kiss on your forehead in public was just part of his job and meant nothing because otherwise you would be done when he left.

On the bright side was that people were talking about you two and the insidious calls and the nasty presents and threats have stopped, and since one friend of yours on Variety wanted an actual exclusive on your relationship by mid July you agreed to give her a candid interview about how marvelous your life was since Barry came along.

"Nervous?" You asked him and stop a minute to admire him in his old Marine uniform, you never quite get the kink about it until now, he did look amazing and the unholy thoughts in your mind were about to make you blush, you even had stop smoking to make the lie believable but god you could use one now.

"Not really, it's just weird I haven't use this in years" It was all part of the photoshoot that will go with the interview "Thankfully it still fits"

"You can always take it off and that would get attention too" You wink at him, your more efficient form of coping with your feelings was being extremely flirtatious, at least that way he would think it was a joke.

"Hi, I'm Danielle" the reporter said and shake Barry's hand once he was out of his uniform and you both were siting in a nice couch with the cameras around you. "First I want to say that you guys are a lovely couple, and it's such an honor that you allow this space to talk about it"

"Thank you for having us" strangely you felt actually nervous and when he notice you rubbing your hands together he took it one on his and hold it tight. "With all the things that are out there even when I like to keep my life private I prefer to tell the truth once before it hurt my relationship" You said, as you both have practiced for the last three days, your friend Charlie had been nice enough to send a copy of the questions to Adrian and you have choreographed your answers, now she would asked about how did you meet.

"So Barry tell me, all this media attention have had any negative impact in your life? How do you cope with being called a walking purse, as some headlines had said?" The question came out of nowhere and Charlie that was sitting behind the cameras was looking as baffled as you, and ypu could imagine who may have something to do with this.

Barry stay silent for a second that felt like an hour and then he finally spoke with a composed tone.

"When I first move to L.A. I have this delusional idea in mind of becoming an actor, and I used to think the spotlight was the goal, but then when we started dating I realized how damaging that could be for someone, the amount of pressure people put on women is insane, look ar this beautiful and wonderful women next to me, people should be talking about how great she is acting, how far she has get on her own, and how much she does for her community in her free time, I'm nothing, just an extra in a couple of commercials and a clerk in lululemon. If they want to call me a purse be my guest, nothing would make me happier as long as people give her the recognition she deserves"

If the interviewer was mad she didn't show, but that passionate speech was enough to make her back to the scheduled questions and the rest of the interview went smoothly.

"Well that was interesting" Barry had a sad smile in his eyes when he dropped you at your house "I think I overstepped, I'm sorry"

"Don't be, thanks for having my back, I froze I should have said something". It had make you feel week again and that was hurting you.

"Is fine, well good luck tomorrow" He said referring to the Emmy nominations that would be announced in the morning and that you had actually forgotten about.

"God you are right, well another reason to keep me awake I guess" Your mind formed an idea and you were not able to shake it and since he didn't respond you took your chance and went for it. "Would you like to stay? I mean I'm to anxious to sleep and I have some movies we could watch"

He looked completely taken by surprise, and he went dead silent, for a moment you even feard you have gone too far and that he might be mad at you for saying it.

"I would love to, we can finally watch one of those movies you always talk about" He walked in front of you to get in the house and you followed him more happy than you have ever been.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Don't mind me, just losing my mental sh*t

Has anyone else ever noticed it always seems to be the people who’ve never written/posted anything that leave the most unnecessary (and often meanest) comments?

Or the people who themselves write like they haven’t hit puberty yet but feel like they can comment like a professional editor by giving advice that is exactly the opposite of what they were just saying needs to be fixed?!

Not Winx Related, I just really needed to vent. I got a shit review on a non-Winx Story and as I bitch a little about that I'm finally taking the time to address a review I got on my GOT fic, which turned nasty that I want to pick apart, but not to his face because he is not the kind of reviewer who should be interacted with, so I'mma dump it here. (Rant un-beta'd.)

Like? You really want to leave a comment on chapter 2 of a part 30 chapter fic that you haven’t read saying shit like:

“I don’t see the point its basically a rewrite”

When, had you read even one chapter on, you would have begun to see the divergence that is about to slowly snowball out of control while the universe does its best to stay on track. (yes the 'its' typo is review accurate.)

Like buddy, I get it, you've never written anything in your life and you think this is okay to say to someone because, and this may surprise you: you're an asshole.

"The point" was that it was a fun idea, "the point" was that I was enjoying the crossover and figuring out how everything could go wrong by replacing a single major part, "the point" was many, many other people found it hilarious and so did I. Not "the point" but it was also a version of Harry Potter not written by a fcking TERF.

Or:

'This Character is just really out of character, you're doing a bad job of writing him.'

Okay *goes to check their fics to see how they wrote him to see if she can figure out where reviewer is coming from. they have no fics in the fandom.* 'hey reviewer, you say he's out of character, how would you go about fix him so he's more in character?'

'Oh well, he's just not very *season 1 characterisation despite the fact he's explicitly stated to be season 3 end of his character growth story arc*, you should have him do *a thing that is something he would never have done even in season 1*'

-

Or shit like (and this is a long one from 'Richard' who hid behind the Anon function):

"This is a great fic. It's surprisingly difficult for me to optimize the protagonist. So first,"

Like? excuse you? why would you need to optimize my character?

"I really hope Sansa chooses to mine the metric tonnes of valuable honey and wax from that beehive once she gets her inventory."

So I hate to admit that the honey and wax would be a good idea, and she will be getting a boon of that, but it will be because she'll be getting Bee Hives later, not because she'll think to strip mine a people in dire straights.

"Also, she has valyrian steel claws, which she now knows can dig into the rock very easily. Those crumbling ledges? She can dig new ones, she can dig a staircase. She can widen the entrance so that her soldiers come in to help mine the liquid gold. Especially since she appreciates the difference between currency and goods. Of course, maybe she'll establish diplomatic relations instead."

So I am going to look so fcking petty when I finally get the next chapter out, because I actually addressed this idea with reality. Trust me, I did some research, and while there's almost nothing easily found on how long it would take to do this sort of work by hand, what I found supported the idea that it's stupid. It takes (and I shit you not) literal days with a team of men using hand tools to carve through even a few metres of rock (the exact time depends on how hard the rock is and how large they make the opening/area).

Sansa would be literally clawing at the walls with her nails which, while yes they are Valyrian steel, are still attached to very human fingers and arms. and here's where my first hand knowledge kicks back in: I went on a mock archaeological dig when I was in high school, I spent several hours scrapping layers of compact sand to uncover artefacts, resistance levels aside, the repeated action is hell on your muscles, Sansa would spend as much time recovering as she would digging. to get all the way to the entrance would take her literal years with Richard's suggested method.

PLUS: the point of the adventures is for SANSA (and Arya) to have the spot light, to be forced to think and find ways to use the new Abilities they've been given, or to come up with new ones. It's part of my whole "Power is Earned, or it is Corrupted" mentality, if you don't work for it, you will sooner rather than later abuse it.

AND: of course she's going to use diplomatic solutions, she's Sansa, and that's what the clue of foreshadowing was saying! Literally everything you need to know to solve the Dungeons is in their individual clues!!!

"Secondly, medieval people already had long-lasting torches which burned for hours and hours instead of 5-10 minutes. Each torch looked like a pillar or stupidly elongated torch that was carried with the tip lit and burning down like a candle. They also didn't use candles as those were too expensive. They used rushes soaked in fat which could be made by the dozens to hundreds with a few hours' work. There's a youtube video on this subject entitled medieval misconceptions: torches and candles."

Oh. My. God. Such. Valuable. Information. If . Only. I had. Known. This. When. I wrote. about. reed candles. in this. very fic.

Literally of the four times I used the word candle, twice it was explicitly 'reed candles' (and guess what other name rushes go by?) and once it was a metaphor specifically about the smoke and not the candle.

As for the pillar candles, the ones that burn for hours are too heavy for someone of Sansa's size and arm strength and the hour candles, (if you've ever seen Avatar Last Airbender, the candles they used in the Secret Tunnel) are unwieldy and aren't so good for putting down in a way that doesn't risk them going out. (Putting them far enough into a wall sconce that it won't topple back out makes it very tricky to remove it.)

Which, why even bother with torches that are more effort to obtain when Sansa's powers make the 'advantage' obsolete anyway!? Not to mention: Displayed Content! If a show uses something even in the background, it exists in that world. Wax candles aren't that rare. (Also side note, because I do my fcking research: the majority of hives which supply the honey and wax to Westeros are owned by the Maesters of old town.)

"I don't really care about those things though. The latter is a mistake literally everyone makes and I didn't know was a mistake until a month ago. Which goes into my third point, how Sansa could optimize things."

Then why bring it up, especially since I didn't technically make said mistake??

"At this point she knows she needs people and she's already given her powers to someone trustworthy. She also knows that healing is a power she can give. And she knows they're going to need this at least as much as medics. And there are indeed people she trusts whom she hasn't approached with an offer of power. Ned Stark, Catelyn Stark, Lyra Mormont of Bear Island, and Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion Lannister can wait but not forever. Lyra should be approached as soon as possible."

NO. Arya was the exception, not the rule, Sansa isn't going to just go off and give her god-blessed powers to anyone else. I was hesitant to give it to Arya as it was, and only let myself because I could use the 'Arya's God is Death, there's more stakes than you thought' to fully justify it.

Tyrion as he is can't be trusted, and future Tyrion chose Dany over Sansa, neither Sansa nor Arya know how his story ended, so as far as they are concerned he's a good ally, but not actually trust worthy enough for this.

For those of you confused, Lyra Mormont is one of the daughters of the Lady Maege Mormont, and one of Lyanna's sisters. Lyra got maybe two mentions in the books and nothing in the tv series so I can only assume Richard meant Lyanna, who is currently 2 years old! But we'll come back to this, because Richard sure did!!!

As for the medic thing, I really hope Richard meant he was fcking off for good in his final word, because if he comes back, I really don't want him to think he's responsible for the medic corps that I've been planning and attempting to foreshadow with Sansa approaching Luwin, and Beth and Jeyne following Sansa's lead with archery.

Like, oh hey, guess which unfortunate field medic bride of a Stark might find her way to Winterfell if she hears about young women being trained in some basic healing to help Maester Luwin deal with any cases of over flow of patients. That's right, I'm planning for triage nurses! No magical powers required. 

"I assume she's going to get glass from Lys through the Tapestry of Doors. For that she's going to need tokens. She's going to need tokens for everything, and she already knows it. So collecting and hoarding tokens should be a big priority for her. And that means going places where there are tokens to be got. Places she hasn't gone to yet, like The Wall and Bear Island. Just to get tokens."

No. Again, just NO! Sansa already stated that Tokens and relying on them were a thing that would come back to bite her, she'll horde them as she finds them, but she's not going out of her way to find them because she has things to do! Also: the Tapestry of Doors was a piece of Flavour text for way late in the fic if it ever came back, and like a Stargate, requires one at each end, so someone would have to travel to Lys anyway, which is dumb when Sansa now has a Loom which can copy any 'raw' material, and the ability to convert that 'raw' material' into any object she has the blueprint for, which she can get by 'scanning' with her console.

She just has to put 2 and 2 together!!

"She also knows there are dungeons in each place, and that she needs to get to them. And that it's better if she gets in with people. Like people Lyra trusts to whatever dungeon is in Bear Island."

The thing about the Dungeons is that the whole thing is for Sansa, some of them will have special requirements, but very few of them are crucial, they're just there so Sansa has a place and a trial to obtain Unique Items of game breaking power or ability.

"The last way to optimise her powers is one I don't think she'll take even though it has a lot of benefits. Going with a squad of soldiers into the Dreadfort's dungeon in order to confront the walking dead, with hit and run tactics slowly draining the population there. The main benefit and reason to do this is to harden and blood the soldiers to prepare them for the Long Night, so she should have the soldiers on rotation in order to expose as many as possible to the horrors to come."

Problem is the undead in the Dreadfort Dungeon aren't the same as the Wights and White Walkers, they can just be killed in the same ways. The idea of these kinds of fics is that by the time the Long Night Comes, Sansa and Arya can do most if the heavy lifting. You are right that Sansa wouldn't risk her people for some EXP though.

Sansa will be going back though, there's a pair of Shears and Needle in there.

"Also, the loot should be great. Perhaps another loom. But I would do it even for more bobbins. Or nothing at all."

Literally the Loom is a one off item. It is super powerful with what it can do in the context, so having more than one would ruin the power balance I've been trying to keep between Power Fantasy and OP Bullshit.

-

Someone of course pointed out that (Richard said Lyra, but responder said Lynna) Lyanna was currently literally 2 or 3 years old, she can't do shit. (they also brought up that 2 (actually 3) characters had already declined the super powers, because it included bad timeline memory downloads.) Guess how Richard took that?!

If you guessed "not well" you get a cookie!

Seriously, I was kind of annoyed at his review because^^^ reasons he was wrong about stuff, but also the arrogance of 'telling me how to optimize my character' was just, icky, so I was just going to ignore him.

But then he went (in response to the other reviewer):

"(snort) I think you need to recall what Lyanna Mormont is like at 10 years of age. She is a force and she is in charge. And what exactly is your objection, that Sansa needs consent or is preserving innocence?"

No moron, the objection is that she's literally 2 or 3 years old, what the fck is she going to do in her tiny little body? But yes, now that you mention it, Sansa (was assaulted and lost her bodily autonomy, she) would place a huge amount of importance on consent, it's one of the reasons she was so upset by Arya taking advantage of her sleepy state to get her to agree.

"Lyanna Mormont wouldn't care. Jon and Robb care, that's why their sister cares. Lyanna would never thank Sansa for trying to preserve her innocence, keep her ignorant, or keep her weak. She would be insulted."

Lyanna is literally 2 or 3 years old, she doesn't know enough to care or be insulted by not being told that she's lost the chance to remember several years of horrific shit before being violently murdered.

Also I notice you didn't say anything about the name correction. Got it wrong the first time did you?

"Which leaves only respecting Lyanna's will. Or her mother's will maybe. Or at least informing them of what she's decided to do before she does it so they can prepare. But Sansa gains nothing by not asking."

And what would she gain by asking? also nothing. Lyanna is 2 or 3 years old. Also the fic isn't about her. Why would Sansa even trust her? The child who thought she could judge Sansa for being unable to stab her way out of some horrible places? who scorned Sansa because she was femme? Because Sansa's strength isn't the same as hers so Lynna decided Sansa didn't have any?

Lynna chose Jon to lead the North over Sansa who had a better claim to the throne, Jon, who spent the entire 8th season saying how much he doesn't want to be king, Jon who legit just tried to walk away from the Command of the Nights Watch.

"And this brings up another issue, the fact Sansa never decided FOR Jon and Robb cuts both ways. She informed them of their choice and she let them make it."

"Sansa didn't keep them in the dark without informing them of the decision she was making for them, as you seem to want to do, since that definitely isn't the right thing to do. Mushroom management is a shit heap."

The boys were already aware that something was up, Sansa had nothing to gain by lying, and she made the offer before she realised the memories were a thing.

"The question to ask a toddler is "do you want to grow up?" it's not a difficult question to ask and it does have a meaningful answer. And that's the problem you have, because you already know Lyanna Mormont would say yes and you want her to say no. That's why you want the question never asked."

"You want to pretend that Lyanna Mormont, DEFINITELY in charge of bear island at 10 years of age, is a gormless wimp like 25 year old Jon Snow who refused to be king and refused to even THINK whether or not Daenerys would be a good queen by constantly uttering the refrain "she is my queen"."

Laynna was in charge because she was the last of her family, everyone else was lost fighting someone else's war. More importantly: she's not even part of the equation? Why would Sansa travel to Bear Island to ask a 2 or 3 year old if she wants to become an angry and traumatised 10 year old in a 2 or 3 year old body which will feel like a prison because she's not as tall or fast as she used to be, because she can't lift or climb or jump or ride or fight like she used to.

And for what? a few super powers she has to ask Sansa for? For mental trauma her family and friends cannot comprehend?

But no, have a look at the part where Richard really started to cross the line:

"No, Lyanna Mormont wants power, wants to grow up, that is obvious. And you're an obstacle in her way. She would hurt you for standing in her way, probably smashing a mace in your knees. And you're so weak that yes you would in fact be hurt by a 2 or 3 year old toddler. She killed a giant and she would have no problem killing you for daring to think you're a giant."

"Stand aside little man and let Lyanna Mormont have her glory."

Now I don't know what this guy's obsession is with Lyanna, but that sounded like a threat to me. Like, who tells people that a fiction character would physically maim or murder a real person just for pointing out said fictional character is 2 or 3 years old?

Lyanna doesn't want power? She's not that kind of person, even if she is fictional? More importantly:

Neither I nor the reviewer were 'standing in her way' because she's a fictional character who's not even in this fic!!!

But his behaviour was pretty shit, so I told him to knock it off or I was going to turn the review filters on.

That went about as well as you might expect.

So I was All:

[I don't know what you think you mean by 'optimize the character' but half of your assumptions are wrong, the rest run counter to my pre-existing plans and I don't care for your overall demeanour. I was prepared to leave your post be, but your recent reply is inappropriate and uses language which runs VERY close to sounding like a death threat, which I DO NOT APPRECIATE. I don't want to be 'that bitch', but I am going to ask you to please be respectful, or I will be turning on the comment filters.]

Because I don't Know if you know this but AO3 has three filters in the privacy tab of every story posted:

1] “Only show your work to registered users”

this means that you MUST be logged in to an AO3 account to even find it let alone read it

2] Disable Anonymous Comments

you Must be logged in to leave a comment

3] Enable Comment Moderation

doesn't matter what you say, with out Author OK, your review will not be showing up in the comment section.

(… tumblr just did that thing again where it refreshes in the middle of my thousands of words of text and loses all my stuff, it is literally making me want to kill myself. Because I have to retype all the responses from the next fcking section. It's my own fault for not just using a word document, but also: fck tumblr? For being stupid?)

So, from here Richard had three options:

1- Apologise and move one

2- say nothing and pretend it hadn't happened and move on

3- He went with this:

“Your Sansa Stark is weaker than canon Sansa Stark. It's true your Sansa Stark has a strictly higher level of ambition than Sansa Stark. But what she uses in order to achieve her goals, her resources, is weaker.”

“She uses actions, capabilities and skills. She uses embroidery, archery, learning (archery), she uses the people she already knows but not strangers. She uses and manipulates the people she can interact with, learn from, act upon. The level of people that is directly equal to skills.”“

She doesn't use language, nor does she use strangers. Strangers are the level of people that don't require interaction but DO require language to deal with. And your Sansa Stark's language is too weak. When she manipulates the maid in the Dreadfort, it's entirely accidentally and unintentionally.”

Sansa has seen what power does to people, she's seen what lies ahead for the manipulators of the world, she's been taught at the side of Cersei and Petyr, and she does not want to become them. For all the horrific things she's gone through, Sansa came out the other side with her compassion intact, possibly even stronger than before.

“She talks to Domeric only because she's already interacted with him, she's been healing him for days by that point. She fakes Green Dreaming to her father because she knows her language is inadequate and will achieve nothing. The way her father and mother treat her, they know mere words would be inadequate. And they would dismiss any words she said. "Haven't we told our children dreams can't hurt you?"”

She doesn't want to interact with Domeric, he looks like the man who violated her repeatedly, killed her brother and sacked her home. She wants to be as far away from him as possible. When she does end up interacting with him, despite being so sleep deprived it's a wonder she hadn't started hallucinating, she manages to win him over pretty easily.

She fakes Green Dreaming because “a god made me time travel” is not only a ridiculous concept but a foreign one as well. Why would Sansa tell her parents that when it would mean admitting to going through some horrific shit, to letting her family down and being let down by her family when Green Dreams are a known thing which explains her knowledge. It's not inadequacy, it's efficiency and an attempt to hide horrible things.

I need to point out that “Haven't we told our children that dreams can't hurt you?” is said by Catelyn in self-recrimination afterwards, and is said specifically to reference the reason Sansa might not have felt she could go to them with her problem was because it was based on dreams. Because what parent would take dreams as a serious threat unless they were a Nightmare on Elm Street survivor, especially since Green Seers have become so rare they've been relegated back to myths and stories by the time Jojen and Bran show up.

“Language requires actions such as mouthing, shouting, tonguing, but actions will never add up to language. Actions are necessary but NOT SUFFICIENT for language. This is why you can't write a single damned sentence with only actions. Try it, you won't be able to.”

I can't take this paragraph seriously if only because of the use of the word 'tonguing'. FFS, he sounds like a small child trying to convince people he's got a PhD. 'If I throw out some big words and phrase them right they'll sound 'academic' and I'll look smarter!

'I know this probably isn't what Richard meant but: Sign Language? Is literally all actions?

(Obviously real language requires thoughts and concepts to be communicated to be a language, but even the most primitive of body movements can express something: I'm hot, I'm hungry, I'm angry, etc. It might not be true language, but it is communication, which is the basis of language, the reason we made language in the first place.)

“Canon Sansa Stark had dreams, plans, and designs on what others have. She wanted to wed a prince, she had designs on the princess position. She wanted out of King's Landing. She wanted Winterfell. She wanted the Knights of the Vale to fight ... FOR HER.”

“People who had never met canon Sansa Stark in their entire lives fought and died for canon Sansa Stark's benefit. For the designs of a (her words) stupid girl. And sure, her initial designs were stupid. And they only rose up to being pathetic. But they were designs, they were dreams, they were plans.”

I need to talk about my interpretation of Sansa for a minute, because that's what I've been writing: my interpretation of Sansa.

Sansa was raised with an idea of how the world should be, not how it was. She was raised loved and protected and surrounded by men of honour. Fed stories of heroes, brave knights and valiant princes, where good always triumphed, or was romantically defeated and beautifully tragic.

She wasn't raised to expect dishonourable men and hidden motives, she wasn't raised expecting a (metaphorical) dagger in her back.

She didn't want the crown, she didn't want the throne, she wanted “the prince” from her stories, who would cherish her and care for her and give her a family filled with love. And yes the pretty dresses and the shiny jewels and the adoration and praise. But she never wanted power, that came later.

Later after she'd seen the cracks in the world and the grime beneath the gilding, when she'd learned friend and foe were often the same, that people with power would hurt her, use her, that she was nothing but a trophy to them.

Sansa wanted power because “if I'm the one with the power, then they can't hurt me any more, if I have the power I'll be safe, if I have the power then I can protect people, if I have the power I can stop people like that.”

But Sansa has never had power, it was always borrowed, an illusion that could vanish at one misstep. She had no money of her own, her blood made her valuable to others as a trade commodity, but gave her no personal power.

When people fought for her, it was never really about her.

Petyr gave her armies so he could win favour so he could use her as a proxy for her dead mother. Brienne fought to fulfil an oath to Sansa's dead mother.

The Men of the North fought for Winterfell, to get revenge on the Boltons. The Wildings followed Jon Snow. And when it was over, it was Jon who was crowned king, not Sansa the one who had to talk him into getting back their home in the first place.

Her parents and Robb fought for her, but their armies fought for House Stark, for the insult Sansa and Arya's capture and Ned's death presented.

“Your Sansa Stark has no plans, has no dreams, and certainly has no designs. She doesn't use language, because her language is too weak and has no power. She doesn't use her emotions or feelings because they are brittle and far too weak to be used. Weaker even than the emotions and feelings of a stupid girl. She doesn't use her mind or intellect because she doesn't cogitate. She uses skills and ONLY skills. To try to fake everything else.”

It's odd that he says this when he started off this response by saying my Sansa was more ambitious than canon Sansa.

First of all: I thought I was making it fairly clear that her goals were: save her family, save the North, stop the White Walkers.

Her dreams are to never be beholden to another man ever again.

Sansa wants her family alive, she wants to be safe and she wants to be free of all the political manipulations she had to sit through in the first timeline.

Second of all: Richard has clearly never been assaulted in his life in any way and I am so fcking happy for him. Really.

Look, people who suffer long term trauma, (or short term, it doesn't matter how long really) are not magically okay afterwards. The idea that sexual assault makes femme women strong is disgusting and so toxically prevalent in movies and shows and books these days its... horrific. You'll notice butch women like Arya aren't typically assaulted to be strong, because they're already so 'manly'. It was a genuine surprise when they tried to have Brienne assaulted, but that was more about showing how much of a 'good guy' Jaime was than Brienne.

You can really tell in several places that the tv series had non-con fetishists on staff.

Sansa is so brittle now, because she feels safe enough to let herself feel the fear she wasn't able to earlier, to work through the panic and the anger and all the emotions she couldn't before.

“Your Sansa Stark plans to use skills in order to change the world. And since it's obvious the world isn't run by woodcutters or farmers or archers or anyone else defined by their SKILLS, she will fail. She will fail abysmally, totally and catastrophically. She hasn't got the slightest sliver of a chance.”

Quick tally: Sansa has managed to convince her parents she had knowledge of the future, put them on track to realising Petyr Baelish was stealing from the Crown, got Stannis curious in Dragonstone, came up with a plan to gain favour for the North by helping to pay of part of the Crown's debt and has begun working on a plan to ensure more food is available for the Northerners when Winter arrives.

Not to mention, (and you'd easily miss this): Sansa has begun influencing a shift in the young women of the North who had previously been influenced by the South.

The thing is, Richard seems convinced its about the looting and the grinding, 'kill enough stuff and you become a God!' but it's not.

“So you stacked the deck in her favor. You put a high tier deity on her side. Now Sansa has a slim chance to squeak out a win, using the power she's borrowing. But here's the thing, it will never be HER win because it isn't HER power, it isn't HER plans. Your Sansa Stark has no plans, but her deity does, even if they're stupid plans of puerile amusement-seeking. So IF there is a victory at the end, it will never be Sansa Stark's victory, it will be her deity's. Because she is only a pawn, a tool, a peon, a minion.”

Richard doesn't seem to understand what the introduction of Arya's God means for the lore. The amount of death from the wars is causing Bad Things in the back ground of the original timeline.

Sansa isn't the Being's pawn, she's their start player, the Being is a sponsor who's giving Sansa the chance and resources to be greater than she was. It's not about 'puerile amusement-seeking', but how do you tell a young woman who's gone through what Sansa's gone through that the fate of the entire human race is in her hands, that if she fails it won't just be her family that falls.

If Sansa thinks the Being just wants amusement, then Sansa will act as she pleases and hope it's good enough, which puts her closer in line with saving the world than if she's actually trying to save the world, because that is a much bigger task than 'stop the issues that got my family killed'.

The Being is only victorious if Sansa is, it's their shared victory.

Now up until this point Richard has been an arrogant tool, but it might almost seem like he's being reasonable. This is where he loses the plot and just starts back on his favourite fall back: threatening people with violence.

“Now generally, when an author writes a protagonist who is a pawn, a tool, a peon and a minion of a higher power, when they write a protagonist who is WEAK, it's because they themselves are weak. Generally doesn't mean universally however, so I had to know. And now I do. You are weak Jasper.”

“You want to convince me of something Jasper. You want to convince me that I'm wrong, that my opinion is wrong, that my position is wrong, you want me to change my mind, you want me to know my plans and judgment are wrong. Because they're in conflict with yours. But how do you achieve this? By threatening me with your borrowed power. Exactly like your Sansa Stark.”

Did he have to google the list of synonyms there?

I don't know what it is about being referred to by name, but it bugs me that he chose to use only a portion of my pen-name like we were somehow familiar, rather than not using my name or referring to me as OP or something along those lines.

Also I really have to disagree that only weak people write about people being weak, but I don't think his opinions of weak and strong match with mine either. 

He is wrong, but more importantly: he threatened someone with violence for daring to correct him.

I wasn't threatening him, I was warning him to stop being an asshole or I would disable anonymous commenting.

“You do this because you're weak. And what do we call weak people who complain about strong people's actions when they are the bitches of higher powers? We call them exactly what you "don't want to be", we call them bitches. You are a bitch to higher powers and you bitch about higher powers like me. You bitch about people who can use their intellects. And for a good reason too.”

“You fear my attitude because I am the bitch slapper. I slap little bitches like you all fucking day long every single day. It doesn't matter to me who it is, whether it's my own friends who are bitching, I slap them for it. And you will never ever convince me that you're right. Because you're weak. And because I don't respect bitches.”

Look, I've seen enough therapists of different varieties to pull off some impressive psych 101 bullshit so I can tell you right now: Richard is a man who has never held any real authority in his life, he has mediocre skills at best and often feels talked down to because he feels more entitled than he is and no one treats him like a god for breathing. He refuses to back down when wrong even in the face of evidence and then he pouts because the world didn't shift to match his delusions.

The worst part is I know this, and I know I shouldn't let this bother me. But it does. But it shouldn't and I can tell him to his 'face' via review reply why he's wrong, or he'll know it bothers me, then he'll feel validated, even though he's wrong. And he'll probably threaten someone with more violence and then I really will have to disable anon comments and effectively punish some readers who did nothing wrong.

“So what are you going to do to me that I care about? Stop me from reading your fic? You don't have that power. Stop writing it so that I can no longer learn how your mind works, my ulterior motive? That would be cutting your nose to spite your face. You would suffer far out of proportion to me. I would just move on to some other author. Report me? Go ahead, I don't care. Really, we're done here, so have a nice life.”

Yes I do, literally the first of the privacy filters would stop you from reading, but that would hurt my other readers who don't have an account.

'Ulterior motive'? Buddy, you apparently don't understand how any mind works.

Again: if you don't care why bring it up?

Are you really leaving though? Do you promise?!

“The only thing you could ever do to me is surprise me by ceasing to be a weak little bitch. Or even resolving to not be one. This would invalidate all of my predictions by rising to my implied challenge. That's what I like, win-win. (lol) I'm not holding my breath though.”

I don't have anything to prove to this douche tool and it bothers me that this is bothering me so much!!!! The worst part is, this review came at a time when my attention for the fic was flagging, so I'll never know if it was really this review or not that made me stop writing for the past few months?

Those of you with an AO3 account who drop by my profile to see if I wrote anything interesting may have noticed my recent 'for archive users only' locked fic. I can confirm that yes: to mental detox this review I went and watched a Chinese Xianxia drama that has become my new hyper-focus. Almost 100 plot bunnies are being posted into the locked fic in an effort to purge it rom my brain so I can get back to what I was doing. It seems to be working. I wrote about 1000 words for Episode: Sisterhood this week, so the chapter is almost done. At last!

[ducknotinarow]

[BailsRichy]  please. kiss me. even if it’s just this once. [Childhood AU]

| Fluff sentence starters

It didn't snow much where Richard lived but St.Carnad did get snow, Richard noted as he pushed open the door to the little restaurant he and Bailey stepped into, so to get out from the cold now. Letting Bailey go in first as they shivered and rubbed their hands over thier arms to warm up. Richard slightly dusted snowflakes off his arm as they were greeted by the host and led to a booth to sit in.

"You know I don't think it was the best idea to go out today, god it's freezing today." Richard slightly complained.

Winter in St. Carnad was nothing like winter in Las Eageles for one it actually snowed further up north in the state, going more south though? you were lucky to ever see a real white Christmas as the songs would say. The only time Richard needed to even have a winter wardrobe was when he was in St.Carnad this time of year. But Bailey insisted they should get out today so he kept his complaints to a minimum. As they both made thier way to sit down Richard glanced over to Bailey who seemed to be enjoying warming up inside right now, Richard wasn't sure how they could even be cold in the first place. With how thick thier feathers were and not to mention the added amount from his own winter look. Bailey looked like a giant pink snoball

Bailey makes a statement about wanting to get though as they slide into one side of the booth. Richard wasn't sure if how dismissive they were was for his own sake or for Richard's. Well, at least they seemed to be feeling better willing to go out too. Bailey's eye was still black but the swelling was starting to go down a little at least. The bruises on his cheeks a bit as well, the crack on thier beak, however, might take more time. But by the time winter break was over it was likely Bailey would be healed up again. It was just nice that Bailey was good to get out and about, or maybe he felt guilty about staying cooped up at his home when Richard came out to spend the vacation with them. Richard took his own jacket off tossing it to the end of the other side before he went to sit down across from Bailey. They seemed to frown a second at his choice to not sit beside him. Richard just acted like he didn't think about it or notice. As they were handed menus and left to be alone to look them over now.

Richard looked out the window beside them as he just watched the snow falling outside. "Fair enough, I'm just not used to it. I think I've only seen snow without having to travel, like once. Made a snowman and then he melted away the next day because it went back to the usual heat the day after." Turning back to face Bailey when they slightly breathed out a laugh over the short-lived life of the snowman Richard made. Offering they could make one together if he likes them or snow angels even. "You're over there shivering like you were dunked in the snow when all you did was walk through it you're really trying to tell me you'll fall into willingly?" Bailey just offered that Richard could sit next to him to warm him up more so he won't be so cold.

Richard side glanced around seeing the place looked pretty full at the moment before he answered. "I'm good here." again he noticed the way Bailey seemed to frown but was quick to plaster on a smile best they could with thier cracked beak. Richard just lifted his own menu up to avoid looking at them as if he were that invested in it. Saved by the waiter coming to take drink orders.

You know in teen romances they always made it seem like when the main couple got together that, well that was just it. All the drama and storying telling centered around the two characters being stupid and unaware of how much the other liked them back. Misscoummcation, antics getting a bit out of hand, but no matter what once they did confess everything was fine after that. But maybe that was because those couples weren't like Bailey and Richard. They were two boys who liked each other. It was always some guy and some girl in the shows, and not to mention the fact all thier issues could be solved in under thirty minutes. There was no way they would have a girl get beat up after happily confessing she had her first kiss not like what happened to Bailey. Richard knew what Bailey said but didn't mean it hadn't been bothering him still. Somehow he seemed to forget that liking a boy was different when you were also well a boy. Double so it seemed when you were like Bailey and so open about those things. Maybe since Richard had been homeschooling he just forgot about that?

Hard not to think about it now seeing how busted up Bailey was. As they were greeted by thier waiter once again placing thier drinks down. Hot chocolate for Bailey and coffee for Richard, Bailey noting the choice since he had some earlier too, as Richard shrugged his shoulders. "I rather have coffee it's good besides I wanted to try it here. you know see how good it is? they say you sound to get the house blend black to know if they have good coffee. Want a sip?" he offered only for Bailey to scrunch up his face and shake his head before pulling his mug up to sip from. Richard just smirked over the reaction he knew they didn't like it much not to mention were sensitive to caffeine in general. It was still funny to tease them over it they rather enjoy the sugary drink. Lowering thier mug down whip cream coating thier beak. "You're a mess." he teased going for a napkin as he leaned over the table, intending to wipe thier beak for them. When he was reminded they weren't alone. So he simply dropped it into Bailey's hand to use themself. As he turned away looking back out the window as if he were watching the snowflakes. Busying himself by fidgeting with a napkin in front of him. Bailey sat on his own side and seemed to watch how Richard started to tear the napkin into pieces before shifting attention back up to ask if they were okay. Even stretching out thier arm to hold Richard's hand, the second he felt those fingertips gaze over his knuckles. Richard flinched and jerked his hand back as if he couldn't get it away from Bailey fast enough knocking his own drink over in the process. Mug tipping over to the side and spilling over the table and onto the floor. "Mierda" Richard said under his breath as he grabbed at more napkins and dropped them on the table before moving to try and wipe up what landed on the floor. Bailey seemed to move down to join him and try to help at least. Richard was being stupid he knew it but it sunk even more when Bailey spoke up and said they shouldn't have come out. It took him a second to think on what he meant by that before seeing they just meant out, as in outside. Richard sighed out heavily as he stopped "No that's not the issue, I just. I don't know how to act." he fessed up "Your face is all beaten, but it's our first time together since becoming a couple but I forgot that not everyone is going to accept how we are, and I know what you said that it was worth it because we're together but.. there are so many people here that will see us and-" He trailed off as he was speaking watching how Bailey just looked down. Those wide large eyes gave away the hurt they were feeling, Richard wasn't good with words he wasn't much of a talker. He was good at putting his foot in his mouth though it seemed as he signed out again and went to get up balling up the wet napkins in hand as he let the pile plop onto the table. Before he sunk into the booth, hand to his forehead as he pushed his hair back letting his fingers grip at the strands. Bailey slowly moved to stand up now himself sitting down silently on thier own site. That wasn't a good sign. Richard was truly being stupid right now. If Bailey could get a beating and still be happy to date Richard then he could not care too right? Ever since that accident he had thought eyes on him were just so easy to feel. Gritting his teeth he stood up and moved to sit next to Bailey. "There's coffee on the seat," he offered as if he had to justify it. It wasn't for either of thier sake it was because of those around them that could hear them speaking right now. Bailey went to ask again if he was okay, "You're the one who got hurt, the one being made to feel I don't know but likely not a good thing by your boyfriend right now yet you go and ask if I'm okay still?" Bailey just nodded and shrugged in response to the question. "It's just everyone can see us and I don't have a problem with it least I didn't before." he looked over to them a moment "... you know" Richard offered back. Bailey sat for a moment as if he were thinking and taking that that all in so

Richard spoke up again. "I'm not saying I'm changing my mind I just..I don't want you to get hurt again. I know it's not my fault, and you didn't deserve to have them do this to you. I just wish I could back to when I forgot about people having issues with this stuff." Bailey tilted his head back some as he heard Richard out, hand over Richard's own, softly stroking a thumb across his knuckles getting Richard to relax some with the gesture. Simply asking Richard to kiss him. Richard just crocked a brow at that "I don't think that is going to fix anything

"please. kiss me. even if it’s just this once." Richard tried to understand thier line of thought that got them to that conclusion. Hand pulling away from Bailey's as he rose it up to place it onto Bailey's cheek gently in case it was still sore. "Think if I kissed you enough it would fix everything up?" he slightly joke as he gently brush his thumb over Bailey's cracked beak. Bailey was brave and fearless. Despite what they dealt with all the time they kept being themself. Expressive as always and never held back. Bailey always no matter what found a way to smile eventually. Richard always liked that about him. Leaning forward he gently kissed the crack on thier beak. "I'm sorry," he whispered before placing another to thier cheek, then up to thier eye, Bailey flinching a bit seemed it was still tender but reached up thier own hand to rest on top of Richard's so they wouldn't stop. Telling him again it was worth it because he got to be with Richard. Richard let his forehead rest against Bailey's own and just nodded a bit. "You know, even with your face bruised and a bit battered like this, you're still the most beautiful thing to me." placing a soft kiss to their beak wanting to be mindful of the crack. "I still want to hit those jerks for doing this too though." Bailey just smiled and took thier chance to move in closer to Richard, the head is drawn to rest against his chest as they moved thier arms to hold around him. Richard wasn't getting away this time. Telling him it didn't matter long as he had Richard.

"You'll always have me" Richard simply promised as he let his own arms move to hold Bailey. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm just stupid sometimes is all."

[schooltrashers]

So a friend of mine and I had a conversation about 4Chan. He told me that he was banned from there for violating one of their "rules", which was questioning the authority of the mods. He didn't break any rules and yet his post kept getting removed to the point of the mod banning him.

His post was related to the topic, there was no trolling and yet his post kept getting removed. Why? Because he kept posting a screenshot of something another anon posted in text. I can't go into details or post the screenshot because he doesn't want anyone on 4chan to know that I know him.

Anyways there was nothing wrong with the screenshot since it was just a text post. However, this further proves my point that I made in a video that 4Chan is a Leftist site. If it were an Alt-Right site, surely they would allow free speech on that platform. They would be against censorship.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm against the Alt-Right and everything they stand for. I don't like or agree with Richard Spencer on anything. The Alt-Right is just the right-wing version of Leftists. I'm an anti-extremist, so I oppose all extremist groups, extremist views, and extremist ideology.

In other words, I'm against Nazis, Commies, Leftists, the Alt-Right, KKK, Antifa, MGTOW, Feminazis, and any other extremist group. So back on the topic at hand, the mainstream media and Leftists on social media try to lie to people and claim that 4Chan is an Alt-Right site.

Why? Because they don't want people to know the truth that Leftists run that website. Don't believe me? Go check it out for yourself. It wouldn't surprise me that Leftists would act like "right-wingers" by claiming to be Alt-Right on /pol/ and then post pro-Nazi propaganda, just to make right-wingers look bad.

After all, who the fuck would defend a mass-murdering maniac like Adolf Hitler and claim he did nothing wrong or deny that the Holocaust ever happened?? Nazis are socialists(Nazis is short for National Socialists). Adolf Hitler is an SJW. He accused Jews of racism and he loves black people.

Go watch Inglorious Bastards, in that movie Hitler did not send this black man to a concentration camp. He only hated Jews and he had sympathy for blacks, calling blacks the true Hebrews. He claims that white men stole the Hebrew religion from blacks. Even the Black Hebrew Israelites claim this.

Sound familiar? Leftists on Twitter hate conservatives. Leftists also hate Jews, due to their anti-Semitism I've seen on Twitter recently with their hate of Israel and love for Palestinian terrorists. Gal Gadot calls for peace and Leftists attack her for it.

Leftists have always hated Gal Gadot, even when she was first cast as Wonder Woman and they were against her be an honorary ambassador of the United Nations. Why? Because she's an Israeli. What is Israeli known for? It's a Jewish nation.

So yes, Leftists are anti-Semitic and they are the real Nazis. When I realized just how hateful, ignorant, brainwashed, gullible, and violent Leftists and Liberals have become, I decided to stop being a centrist liberal and I became a centrist conservative. I don't want anything to do with the Left anymore because of my realization of what was really going on.

You may be asking yourself this question "Did you vote for Trump?", of course I did. Why wouldn't I? He's not a bigot, he's definitely not a racist. Everything the Left has accused him of, turned out to be lies. I realized this in 2020 after what I saw Democrats and the mainstream media did to Tulsi Gabbard. There are even Leftists foolish enough to beLIEve in the lies being told about Tulsi Gabbard. It started to make me think and question everything.

It made me think "Did they do the same thing to Donald Trump?" and the answer is yes. There were so many lies told about him, I ended up finding out the truth early on before the election of 2020. Just enough time to vote for the man. How? By watching conservative YouTubers like Steven Crowder, Daisy Cousens and Candace Owens debunk the lies of the left, with real evidence.

Speaking of evidence, I noticed that Democrats/Liberals/Leftists often ignore real evidence. They dismiss any YouTube videos or articles I posted that contain real evidence. They even go so far as to claim any evidence posted as "conspiracy theory". Oh but they're allowed to beLIEve in their "theories" such as "Critical Race Theory" or "The Southern Strategy". Which is nothing but Democrat/Leftist/Liberal lies, nonsense, and garbage. No real evidence to back up any of their claims.

In closing, yes 4Chan is a Leftist website. Go look at the posts where they bash Donald Trump, praise communism and Leftist ideology. They even have an LGBT board and they'll call you a bigot if you don't date transwomen. All the censorship, the filtering of the word "soyboy", banning people for stupid ass reasons that go against Free Speech.

Censorship, bannings, word filters, those are all tools of The Left(Democrats, Leftists, Liberals, Nazis, and Commies). They don't like it when you tell the truth or contradict their claims with facts and evidence. 4Chan doesn't care about your free speech. Neither does Facebook or Twitter, which is why they banned Donald Trump from social media. The Left is anti-free speech.

This is why I became a centrist conservative and a Trump supporter. Unlike the Left, I won't lie to your face about my political views. You either agree with what I said, get triggered by it, or block me for it. I'm not in the business of telling you what you want to hear.

I'm in the business of being honest and truthful no matter what. If the consequence of that is that you end up hating me for it, so be it.