#i think i just can't handle other people's opinions tonight it happens

[bobbinalong]

"kon would wear a crop top, jon would not" says WHO

[nevertheless-moving]

I wrote it. They ask.

"So you're essentially an expert on honor, right?"

Kaladin blinked at Shallan, unsure what to make of the question. The three of them had finished eating, and had moved to a smaller, shared table for drinks, secluded from the rest of the building by a hazy curtain. The conversation had been drifting lazily from the city's latest scandals to squire hijinks.

"What?" Kaladin finally said, slightly confused at the abrupt change of topic.

"Of course you are, you're the first person chosen by an honorspren in thousands of years!" Adolin said enthusiastically.

"I mean—"

"And you always figure out the right thing to do!" Shallan said.

"That's definitely not—"

Adolin nodded. "Never murder anyone in cold blood, even when they deserve it."

Kaladin sighed heavily. "Where are you two going with this?"

Shallan coughed into her freehand. "Well, you see, we've been having a little debate about...honor."

"And we were hoping you could settle it. Impartially," Adolin said, tone serious.

Kaladin squinted at him. There was something off about his expression. "Can't you ask Syl?"

Syl was meeting with some of the honorspren with newer bonds tonight; she had insisted that she could handle it on her own, and that he should take the night off, but he was sure she would be happy to switch places to come by and give her opinion on other people's business; that was practically a hobby for her. He wasn't sure sure where pattern was, come to think of it; he hadn't heard him buzz in a while.

"Actually we did!" Shallan said brightly.

"She was our first choice, no offense," Adolin said. "I don't think she entirely understood the dilemma."

"It's a bit too, well, human." Shallan took a large sip of her wine, emptying the glass, but didn't waive over a server for more.

Kaladin felt dread start to coil low in his stomach, the fragile relaxation of the evening starting to slip away. "...I'm going to regret hearing about this, aren't I?"

Adolin leaned towards him, turning wide, pleading eyes his direction. "Please, Kaladin?"

Shallan matched him. Stormfather. Not so long ago ago, lighteyes looking at him like that would have filled him with derision at most. What had happened to him.

"Fine." Kaladin leaned back in his seat, giving in. He was a little curious, even though he knew he wasn't going to be happy with whatever he was about to hear. "What is it?"

Shallan straightened, as if to give a presentation before the Queen. Storms, I have a really bad feeling about this.

"Well, as you know, I'm a lightweaver, and can change mine or someone else's appearance, such that they exactly resemble another. I can also create an illusion, so that it appears that an individual is present, when in fact, they are not."

"...Yes?" Was Shallan nervous? Adolin didn't kill another highprince, did he?

"Now, obviously, practicing lightweaving by pretending to be someone else, when done entirely in private, I mean just me, myself, and I, practicing my radiant abilities, can't possibly be dishonorable."

"I guess?"

Adolin leaned forward now, one hand gesturing sharply. "But what if I'm there? I mean, no ones suggesting that it would be acceptable for Shallan to assume a specific private individual's form in public."

"Unless it's to save lives," Shallan said.

Adolin nodded. "Unless of course it's to save lives."

"Or as part of my crown assigned radiant duties."

"Or that, can't forget to mention that."

"Or with said individual's consent."

"Naturally, consent makes all the difference."

"Quite a few shades of grey."

"Truly, once you think about it. Infinite nuance."

Kaladin pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling to keep from laughing. "Did you rehearse this?"

Shallan waved her hand in his face, forestalling any other objections. "In any case! Would we be disrespecting an individual, let's call this person 'Lin' for short, would we be behaving dishonorably towards Lin, were I to assume Lin's form, or have Adolin assume Lin's form, or have Lin appear while both of us are present, soley within the privacy of our chambers?"

Kaladin waited a few seconds for Adolin to chime in, but he just continued staring intently at Kaladin.

"...This is about Lyn?"

"No, not Lyn, Lin," Shallan corrected primly. He could just barely make out a difference. "Neutral born unto. Just, we don't want to say her — say their name specifically, but I thought saying 'the individual' would get unwieldy."

Ok, probably not about Lyn. Unless they're using a confusing fake name to make me think that. He started to feel a throbbing at the base of his skull.

"Is there some specific reason you want to look like... Lin?" He dropped his voice slightly, rubbing his temples. "Is it for a practical reason? Or do you want to make fun of her — them?"

"Definitely not to make fun of them!" Adolin said, voice dropping to match Kaladin's.

"Many people would consider it flattering," Shallan whispered. "For their form to be assumed in this specific context!"

"We're just not certain if Lin would think that, and we're worried that it would be worse to ask."

"So we decided to ask you instead, since again, you're —"

Kaladin waved a hand at her before they could jump into another bizarre routine. "Honorable, yes, whatever, fine. I get it."

Adolin put a hand on his arm, expression earnest. "Look. If you think we should just directly talk to Lin then we'll do it. We just...don't want to embarrass them, or hurt their feelings in someway. We genuinely aren't sure how they would react, and I mean. You don't have to ask someone's permission for thinking about them, but this is a step up from that, and it's not like there's many people who have had the option, so...hence the uncertainty, and asking for a neutral, completely unconnected, third party opinion."

"Alright, I...guess that makes sense? In an extremely weird way." Kaladin looked between the two of them. Shallan's expression was open and honest, but unfortunately that didn't mean much. Adolin was earnest, but there was something weird about his posture. Guilty? Excited? "But why do you want to see a lightweaving of Lin in private so much?"

Shallan pretended to take a sip out of her empty glass. "I assume you can guess, bridgeboy. Is it really necessary for us to say it aloud?" She had just a hint of red staining the tops of ears, but she colored easily. It could just be the alcohol.

"I really don't know," Kaladin said, baffled. "Is this a lighteyes thing? Like you want to, I don't know...model fashion on them?"

"Ooh." Adolin suddenly looked far too eager. "That's actually not what we were thinking."

"I didn't think it was a lighteyes thing," Shallan said. "But I suppose it could be. I don't have a significant enough sample size to presume." That was clearly a joke there that Kaladin didn't get.

Adolin cleared his throat. "Well." He made another sharp motion with his hands, letting Kaladin go. "As you know, Shallan and I are married."

"Yes, I was at your wedding," Kaladin said dryly.

"We are married," Adolin repeated, talking over him. "And that comes with certain... duties and privileges."

"Among which—" Shallan was definitely blushing now. "—and I suppose this could be considered an, ah, 'lighteyes thing,' is well. The need to create an heir."

They can't possibly be asking me this. Kaladin looked desperately to Adolin, but the man just gave him a sheepish, apologetic grin.

A small part of Kaladin curled up and died.

Blood Of My Fathers.

"No," Kaladin said. "Absolutely not. You are not asking me about something to do with your sex lives."

"You see," Adolin said. "I know you've said you don't have interest in, well, any of that. But for many the process of creating an heir is not just—"

"ARGH." Kaladin threw his arms up, crossing them over his head.

"— a responsibility but a pleasure which—"

"Almighty's Tenth name!"

"—can be performed creatively—"

Kaladin pressed his head to the table, burying himself in his arms to hide his too warm face and probably disgusted expression.

"Stop. Please. Stop." He knew he was whining in a way ill befitting a Windrunner of his Ideal, but the booth they were in was private, and Adolin and Shallan had seen him in far less dignified circumstances.

"Sorry," Adolin said, patting him on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure you understood."

"Well I don't!" Kaladin said, looking up but not lifting his chin from his arms. "And I don't storming want to! Why can't you just look like yourselves! I thought you liked how each other looked! I've literally caught you drooling!"

Adolin frowned. "I don't drool, bridgeboy."

Shallan's face was nearly as red as his face felt, but her expression was significantly more gleeful. "I…there may have been one sparring session I observed…that may have generated a small amount of moisture."

Adolin cocked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Moisture, huh?"

"I hate you two," Kaladin lied emphatically.

"Sorry, Sorry." Adolin patted him on the shoulder again. "So? What do you think?"

"I think Rlain is right and its a storming miracle humans have managed to accomplish anything when most of us are permanently stuck in mateform."

Adolin heaved a dramatic sigh. "About our question, Kal, come on. We know you don't like talking about this stuff but that's exactly why we needed your opinion! You're unbiased!"

"And honorable, yes you said. Have I mentioned before that the rewards for being honorable blow?"

They turned twin pleading expressions toward him and he caved immediately. Storms, he had gotten weak. "Battar and Shallash, fine," he snapped. "Fine, give me a minute, alright. Just stop talking. "

The two waited, Shallan only opening her mouth to make a joke twice, Adolin successfully nudgeing her quiet each time; Kaladin lifted himself up, elbows on the table and head in his hands as he looked down, forcing himself to actually give it serious consideration. Wait, I thought Veil was the one who was attracted to women. Oh. Right.

"Alright," he finally said. "I get that people can't always help what they...think about. That's fine. And I also know that trying not to think about something sometimes makes people think about it more, so."

Adolin and Shallan nodded. "You have no idea," Adolin said. "Seriously, I love Shallan, I've absolutely tried not looking at other women's — anyway. It's so much easier to just forgive eachother the occasional wayward glance or errant thought." They squeezed each others hands.

Kaladin sighed. "Right. Sorry if I came off as judgemental."

"No, no, you've made it very clear that you don't like talking about such things, it's completely reasonable to be unhappy. We are sorry for the times we...overshare in front of you."

"It's fine," Kaladin said curtly. "Really. I know you try. Anyway. I also understand that people sometimes, er, fantasize. That way. About things or people they don't actually want in real life. And. Uh. Sometimes people... act that out."

Kaladin stared determinedly at the table, face hot. There was a swirling pattern in the marble that he hadn't noticed before.

"You do?" Adolin said, sounding surprised.

Kaladin coughed. The swirling pattern kind of looked like a river, viewed from above. "There. Might have been an incident, early on in the army, when I heard a couple and, er, overreacted slightly. They took the time to explain things in... painful detail. It's fine. None of my business."

"That's. Very open minded of you," Shallan said, sounding slightly strangled. "Tell me, when the couple was explaining things — oof." Kaladin didn't look, but he was fairly sure Adolin just stepped on her foot, something he was infinitely grateful for. It had been an extremely mortifying lesson. The pair had said they weren't mad about being interrupted, but he was fairly sure they were lying, considering how much detail they went into in their explanation.

"Honestly, the whole...dressing weird, or calling eachother names or using ropes or whatever—"

Adolin made a choking noise. Kaladin kept looking at the little river pattern in the table. If he squinted there were mountains and farms too.

"—all that stuff isn't more or less...unappealing. To think about. Then just regular sex." Kaladin paused. "That is not permission to talk about that sort of thing with me. Please don't share anything about your sex life with me, ok?"

"Of course!"

"We know."

"So," Kaladin continued, rubbing his cheeks to try and get rid of the blush. "Wanting someone isn't breaking your vows. Neither is thinking about them. Probably talking about them is fine too."

He ran his finger along the small river in the polished stone. He could practically feel two sets of light eyes drilling a hole in him.

"My concern, of course, would be for Lin. If playing around with their image would affect the real person. My main concern is it will impact the way you two interact with them."

"If we thought it did then we'd stop immediately," Adolin swore without prompting. "The real person matters far more than our...baser feelings."

"Absolutely," Shallan agreed softly. "We truly don't want to hurt them. That's why we've been struggling with this."

"I believe you," Kaladin said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, so you've already been...thinking about them, while together, and it hasn't impacted your interactions with the real person."

"No!"

"Trying not to think of them that way was worse," Adolin said ruefully. "I am...fairly sure they have not noticed any feelings on my part, and even if they had they've ignored them very politely so...like I said, if messing with lightweaveing changes that, we'll stop right away, but I don't think it will. We know who they are."

Kaladin studied the marble some more. He was pretty sure he had flown over somewhere in Alethkar that looked a bit like that riverbend, but he couldn't remember where.

"You cannot do this anywhere someone could possibly see or overhear," Kaladin said, looking up to make brief, serious eye contact with each of them. "Not visiting another city. Not where guards or servants could overhear, even trusted ones. Not in the duelist preparation chamber — yes I know about that. Not while exploring the less used parts of the city — yes, I heard about that too. Not in your sitting room or against the door, where someone passing by could overhear. Just in your own bedchamber, door locked."

"That sounds reasonable," Shallan said, flushing but solemn.

"Very reasonable," Adolin agreed, nodding sharply.

Kaladin grimaced, looking back down at the table. "I think...while part of me says you should ask Lin directly...that also sounds somewhat humiliating for everyone involved. I mean, again, it's more similar to thinking about someone than anyone else, and even if they were, er, flattered... It's not like you would actually be able to sleep together anyway, with your marriage oaths, so it would be a moot point."

"...Right," Adolin said unconvincingly. Kaladin decided not to think about that.

"So... it's alright?" Shallan said hopefully. "With those conditions? Not dishonorable?"

Kaladin forced himself to look up again, and immediately regretted it. They both looked far too eager.

"Not dishonorable," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Thank you!" Adolin said, with way too much passion.

"Thank me by never speaking to me of this again, and never asking me anything like this for the rest of our lives."

"Yes to the first one, no promises to the second," Shallan said gleefully. "Well. Now that we've discussed that matter, how about we get back to talking about—"

"Leave. For the love of all that is good, please leave," Kaladin begged, not opening his eyes. Shallan took advantage of this by kissing him lightly on the cheek. Adolin hugged him from the other side.

There was the sound of spheres tossed on the table and rapid movements, and then they were gone.

Kaladin opened his eyes, shaking his head. One of them had knocked over a glass in their haste to leave. They had, of course, left a small fortune to pay the bill.

He left the winehouse feeling...bemused mostly. Maybe he'd go find Rlain and they could gripe about humans and mateforms together. He would probably not make eye contact for Lyn for the next week, even though he was fairly sure they were talking about Isnah or Beryl. Best not to guess. He kicked off from the ground, the rush of wind immediately clearing away discomforting thoughts or lingering stress of the day.

He smiled, speeding up and feeling his heart race with the exhilaration that only the sky could bring, with no pressing meetings or appointments to get to. Syl had been right. It was good to take a night off every now and again.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

(Opinions Guys Idk)

Bruce Wayne has been a father for over ten years.

He's delt with any issue children vomiting on his shoes runny noses tears he's got you.

He's also buried his children been covered in their blood helped calm down panic attacks. He might not be the best but he's always tried.

There is however one tiny thing that he can say he's never prepared for no amount of contingencies ever can make him ready.

Any form of high society interaction with Tim.

Watching his third son with a smirk that's deadly convincing the richest to give practically all they have to him.

Manipulating board members, blackmailing politicians.

He looks so much like his mother.

Bruce sees his other children they look uncomfortable he once watched Stephanie yell at Tim that she doesn't understand him that he's horrible for doing it.

Jason calling him a rich prick which he was grounded for not that it has ever stopped his second son.

Another gala happened tonight the entire family was present and now watching once again all of his children even sweet Dickie lecturing Tim.

"Seriously Timmy it's just a little much don't you think"

"Boy Wonder that was disgusting who taught you to act like that"

"Timbers I'm all for fucking with people but what the fuck"

He sees the heartbreak painting Red Robin's face he can feel his own reflect it.

His tiny little sweetheart who learned at his mothers knee, his baby boy who works so hard for the company. Who's done tremendous things the only one of them to actually get the respect of the people of Gotham he can't watch it.

"That's enough," Growls out of him.

All of his children freeze looking at him Damian who has remained quiet looking at his brother with nothing but respect turns hurt masked.

"Your brother did amazing tonight, in a way this was an oversight on my part none of you were specifically trained how to act around the Gotham elite. Tim was raised by Janet Drake who was known as the dragon of Gotham".

They start to shift confusion practically pouring out of them.

He looks straight at Tim as he walks forward placing his hand on his shoulder.

" I might not alway agree with how your mother raised you I wish she did a lot differently sweetheart."

A sharp smile begins to paint both Tim's and Damian's faces.

They understand that he is speaking to both of them the only two to really understand.

"But she raised you to know that power that you hold to be able to rule which isn't something I could your siblings are wrong." He turns to glare especially at Stephanie and Jason.

"I'm not saying what you did is right morally it can be questionable however you both know what to do in situations like that experience that none of your siblings could ever have."

He breathes knowing he might anger his children throwing in their faces that they weren't born with silver spoons they have to fight and claw to be where they are.

"This is both Damian and Tim's territory neither are going into crime alley or the narrows and telling you what to do. You don't get to complain about how they were raised or how they handle situations you have no prior knowledge of." He sees that at least Dick is understanding a light entering his eyes

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

So this is the beggining of a story kinda talking about the difference between how Damian and Tim were raised compared to everyone else.

This was something me and a mutual have been working on but we are disagreeing about it.

They think it's fine I don't know.

Could I get opinions because I personally think it is fascinating how Tim is raised versus others not in a negative or positive.

However I think the way we have done some of it mind you this is almost a twenty chapter fanfiction. Might be slightly not good.

I wanted to explain how Tim and Damian would have an advantage their mother raised badass sons who know how powerful they can be.

They were raised rich and with the world at their fingertips but I think we made it sounds very bashy I need thoughts please let me know.

This is only not even a chapter but I wanted to give something of reference.

I think the privilege is slightly too heavy handed and it makes it sounds like the Rich are better idk. 

[andthetapeworms]

Thoughts about Rolfe DeWolfe tonight

We often praise how real and authentic the dialogue between the characters feels yet i don't often see people talk about.. how real the characters themselves feel. Like making them "bad" people or giving them "bad" people traits, not because they're mean or evil or you're supposed to dislike them, just because these are just normal people who.. happen to just have those traits. And that's that.

As somebody with narcissistic personality disorder I've always felt like Rolfe was a near perfect depiction of narcissism- both with how his traits are written and how his character is handled overall. He has an inflated sense of self worth and a distorted self image, he thinks he's more important than he actually is, he thinks he's more adored (assuming he got a lot of fan letters), he seems to have low amounts of empathy (how he speaks to fatz and earl), thinks he's above everyone else (saying that he doesn't need earl anymore because he's become untouchable in his own eyes). If you've watched Tuv's "investigating abandoned animatronics" video, even the showtape in that video shows Billy Bob suggesting that Rolfe has an inflated sense of importance and what he's good at, and Rolfe gets extremely offended and genuinely upset.

Obviously this won't be accurate to everyone with NPD's traits, but personally they're very accurate to mine. If i had to pick a character to describe my experience with npd I'd pick Rolfe. He's like a mirror of me, I feel- he's the embodiment of all the traits i struggle with. Infact being kin with him has helped me cope with my npd- watching the show tapes is an excellent way to sort of reality check myself because they show that his narcissism annoys and inconveniences others and causes resentment, yet it does so in a respectful and gentle way.

It's not in a "hey look at this guy he's a fucking asshole and nobody likes him" way, it's a "this guy has problems that he should work on because it's bothering his loved ones.". That is, to me, in my opinion affected by my experience with this disorder, the best way to possibly depict both NPD and it's consequences.

While being a great depiction of the consequences he's also just, a cute and fun depiction of narcissism traits in general. He has a loveable personality and he's fun to watch. I adore all of the characters in the band, they all have a very unique and charming appeal to their personalities- and Rolfe's is just how fun he is to watch. His dialogue, especially with Earl, is very cute and fun.

He's narcissistic and not apologetic, it's just treated as another trait he has. It's not "he's a narcissist and his entire character is shaped around being a narcissist and therefore being a bad person" it's "he has narcissistic traits and issues but is not a bad person." He's not depicted as abusive or evil, just slightly annoying, yet he's still loved. Earl pokes fun at and insults him a lot but he got nervous when Rolfe started talking about leaving him, asking to make sure Rolfe was just joking and very happily going "Alright!" when Rolfe confirms he was. They have a playful relationship and you can tell they enjoy eachother even with Rolfe's narcissism, which combats the straight up lie that is "narcissists can't form meaningful relationships".

That just genuinely means so much to me, you know? Having a disorder caused by trauma and your own abuse that's constantly labeled as evil and abusive and then finding a character who's like you but not at all how people describe you is. It's nice. It feels nice. I'm sharing this post because i hope maybe anyone whos also a narcissist might also like to enjoy the silly wolf? Or maybe just a rolfe fan would like to hear my analysis and take-away on him :)

[messy-di-voce]

Before the Owl House ends, I wanted to share the themes that I think make this show so special!

"Destiny"

The ending of the first episode has always stuck with me. The idea that you have to decide for yourself if you want to take something of your life; no one is going to tell you.

Decisions

Even though Eda has her own, and very strong, opinions in regards to the government in place, she gives Luz the space to form her own opinions without fear of her retaliation.

Forgiveness Can Take Time

I like that Willow and Amity didn't become friends right away. Too often, children's media like this will have the victim of bullying forgive their bully within the span of an episode. I like that it took time. It shows kids (or anyone really) that's it's ok to take time to forgive people who've wronged you.

Chronic Illness

This show was able to show both the external understanding (with Gwendolyn) and the internal acceptance (with Eda and the Owl Beast) of chronic illness.

Fear of the Future

This one is a rather small detail, but I like how when King was with the Titan trappers, he was able to voice his anticipation of missing Luz. He never got mad at her for it, he was just trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life

Panic Attacks

When I watched the show for the first time, I was expecting Hunter to have a reaction similar to what we saw in Hollow Mind. What I was NOT expecting was what happened in the entirety of Labyrinth Runners, but I'm so glad they included it. Shows like The Owl House will often redeem a character like Hunter and then move on. I like that the owl house took time to look at the emotional toll of experiencing something dramatic. Being able to watch a character undergo the process of learning how to recover from their experiences made me feel seen in a way I didn't know I needed to be. In King's Tide, he can't bring himself to fight Belos. He just has to sit there and remind himself he's lying. These things take time and I'm glad the writers chose to show that.

Grief

This show handles grief with such grace and respect.

This scene was handled wonderfully. It was genuine and real without being sensationalized.

And with Hunter and Flapjack. There is the anger, the habits you have to learn to forget, and the complicated emotions that come with it.

And as he learns to process his experience, he can be sad, but he realizes he's going to be ok

and lastly,

Love

This show is able to show non-toxic relationships with both moments of turmoil and moments of joy! The writers always made sure to show that both parties in the relationships get to express their love for the other person and want what's best for them

It also shows familial love. Luz and her mom are both very close with each other and I love that they really lean into that. Most other shows in this genre push it way to make room for the magic characters. I also love that they showed that Luz really did miss her mom and didn't use it just for a plot device.

So even though the Owl House is ending tonight and our time with these characters is shorter than we wanted, every single one of these episodes have meant so much to me and so many others

Thank you Owl House!! 💜💜💜

[utilitycaster]

So. I haven't seen The Episode in Question (how y'all are able to keep up with 4 to 5 hour episodes weekly is serious dedication) and most of the information I have about it has been by reading you discuss it with your followers, but you've mentioned a few times that you think Matt should've 'called a time out' because there was an obvious lack of realization/picking up on hints from the players (Whether that's on the players or the DM in this case I cannot render an opinion).

Talking in a more general sense, as a budding DM (session 4 later tonight), doesn't that, pausing and telling the players what they're missing…I know this is going to sound a bit Adversarial DM vs Players...kinda rob the game of consequences a little bit? I know consequences in DnD, especially the kind of DnD Critical Role plays, can be final and harsh...but, like, I'm just thinking from a player perspective: unless I'm sitting there obviously frustrated and confused, I don't want the DM to hold my hand and tell me the answer, I just want a more obvious hint.

So this is completely fair and I should note: I have never, personally, called for a time out, and I don't think it's necessarily the only way this could have been handled. I bring it up here because the degree of miscommunication truly felt egregious to me.

If you want a summary, feel free to check CritRoleStats' live tweets which I think are pretty matter-of-fact and neutral, but in short:

The combat, which occurs by surprise (it's fair to say the party was aware of Otohan's existence; it's even fair to say that something Laudna did might have tipped Otohan off, but I think it is still not well telegraphed), after a pretty long day, is immediately shown to be extremely brutal. The party fairly quickly agrees to run, with some party members choosing to stay to allow others to run. The resolution ultimately is that Imogen needs to give into the storm within her; attempts to surrender or bargain do not work.

It is a six-round combat. Unless CRStats missed something or I missed something, the first explicit mention of a roiling storm calling within Imogen comes in round 5, after both Orym and Fearne have been killed. This is also definitely the first time she is asked to make a wisdom save. She explicitly states that she will not lose those party members only to give into Otohan and passes the first save, and then, in round six, after Laudna is knocked unconscious and knocked to two death saves, and she has explicitly surrendered herself, and that is still not enough, she fails a wisdom save. We end the episode with everything going red, then white, and Otohan exulting.

At this point we return to my opinion: if the way to end combat was that Imogen had to give into the storm:

It seems apparent to me, and perhaps this is subjective, that Imogen is still very much at this point in the story resisting the storm. She has only just begun to consider exploring it in her dreams, let alone in a real-world scenario. It feels out of character for her to give in voluntarily, and I think the point where Imogen outright says "I won't lose them only to give into you", which happens after two party members are dead, is a sign that this is an end goal that the character is going to resist.

Which brings me to the point of "why, if the goal is for Imogen to give into the storm, and if this only happens after she starts making wisdom saves, and the episode only ends - combat doesn't even necessarily stop, though Otohan seems somewhat appeased - after she fails one, was she not asked to make wisdom saves from round one."

Again: I really can't say if there was no other way out (other than killing Otohan, which would have been very difficult, and the party very early on decided to run). But Laudna's 22 persuasion check failed. Imogen repeatedly offering herself up failed. Midway through combat, Otohan stopped just taking people down but not going for attacks while they were unconscious into outright killing them.

Imogen is also a character with, I believe, a +2 to wisdom saves, and a 16 passed. I don't know the DC; I don't know if the DC was going to increase; but I find myself asking what would happen if she managed to keep passing her saves? What if Laura kept rolling crits? would Matt kill the entire party until Imogen did precisely what Otohan wanted? Is that fair to the party, who did not seem to have any ability to stop the fight, only to try to kill Otohan or run?

There's a line Brian Murphy of D20 and NADDPod says sometimes, of "sometimes you can just sense the DM sweating" with regards to certain strange decisions. I don't know if I'm right here, and I cannot make any final judgments until next episode when we see how it all resolves. But it feels like Matt was deeply caught off guard by the party, and especially Imogen's resposne. And perhaps I should probably give him the benefit of the doubt I've granted the cast, fog of combat and all that, but also, he is a very experienced DM, and the fundamental structure of what the enemy wanted from combat does not feel like something you can reasonably expect D&D players to understand without explicit statements.

It feels to me as though the consequences hit before it was even remotely clear what the DM wanted. The cast repeatedly says out of character that they don't know what Otohan wants; like, I don't know if they were frustrated, but I think it's fair to say they were obviously confused.

So anyway I don't think a time out is the only way to solve it, but I think that perhaps the in-game attempt to course correct actually made things worse and a time out would not have done so.

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: taking Wanda to meet your parents wasn't the best decision in hindsight...

warning/s: none i don't think?

author's note: i’m not sure what to say other than sorry in advance oops

part one | part two | part three | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

The restaurant my parents chose wasn't too flashy but rather comforting and homely, with an Italian theme and matching cuisine. It was bustling with people, but it didn't take long for Wanda and I to find my parents sat at the back waiting for us.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked, glancing at her with a comforting squeeze of the hand.

"I've got you, haven't I?" she asked playfully, her accent thicker than usual as she spoke. And though she was joking, I knew there was truth to her words which sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

"You're cute," I said with adoration, appreciating how lovely her eyes looked in the dimly-lit restaurant. "Come on."

Hand in hand, we approached my parents' table and I had hopes that tonight would go well. My parents weren't exactly intimidating – at least anyone I'd ever known hadn't got that impression – but I still worried for Wanda. Unlike her, I couldn't read minds, so I couldn't tell if she was actually looking forward to tonight or if she was just doing it for me.

"Y/N, you're here!" my mum exclaimed with a grin when she spotted me.

"I am," I said with a nervous smile, before motioning to Wanda. "And so is Wanda, my girlfriend."

"Yes, Y/N mentioned you would be coming," my mum said with a friendly smile, looking to Wanda, before motioning to the table. "Please, sit, sit."

I squeezed Wanda's hand gently before pulling out a chair for her. She smiled at me appreciatively before I took a seat beside her, facing my parents.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Wanda," my dad said with a nod. "Y/N mentioned you plenty of times when we'd call to catch up with her."

"You, too," Wanda spoke politely. "Both of you. Y/N told me that you're travelling the world, is that right?"

I leaned on my hand and glanced at Wanda, who shot me a mischievous smile. Quirking a brow, I mentally applauded her. Getting my parents to talk about their travels was an easy way of bonding with them – they would tell every server and customer in this restaurant about their travelling if they could. She'd cracked them instantly.

I'm just that good, milashka (cutie).

Trying not to laugh as her words echoed in my mind because of her powers, I leaned back into my seat and listened in as my parents went into a ramble about their ongoing adventures. This was pretty much how the rest of the evening went, as the four of us dined on expensive wine and delicious pizza. They seemed to be getting along well, with Wanda asking all the right questions and giving them her picture-perfect smile that impressed all the elders. Heck, she was even impressing me.

Naively, I appreciated how well the evening was going until my parents decided to talk to Wanda about her career.

"So, Y/N mentioned you're one of those Revengers," my mum remembered as we ate.

"Avengers," I corrected her, mildly embarrassed.

Wanda chuckled, glancing at me, before nodding. "Yes, I am. For over a year now, I've been working with them."

"Them being Iron Man, Captain America, the Black Widow...?" my dad asked, looking up as if trying to remember the rest, further embarrassing me.

"Those are the ones," Wanda quipped with a nod.

My mum hummed in response as my dad nodded before leaning back in his seat and eyeing Wanda curiously.

"I can't imagine your job is the safest," he began. "You protect people from threats, right? Keep them safe."

Wanda seemed caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "It's got it's... dangers, yes. But I can handle myself. I've got powers and I know how to use them."

"You do," my dad agreed, before his eyes flickered to me briefly. "But Y/N doesn't. She's just a regular human."

I set my fork down on my plate and looked to him calmly. "Dad, what are you saying?"

"No, it's fine," Wanda said reassuringly, resting her hand on my leg under the table. I grabbed it and held it as she continued to speak to my father. "Y/N doesn't have powers, you are correct."

"And dating an Avenger, I can imagine, must put a huge target on her back," he said with concern, and my mum nodded in agreement. "How can we be certain that she is safe?"

"Dad!"

"Your father is right, Y/N," my mum said, giving me a look, before her expression softened as she looked to a startled Wanda. "We're not implying that you're incapable, Wanda. We can clearly see that you care about our daughter. And you're a lovely person. You're pretty much perfect."

Wanda swallowed hard. "But?"

My mother frowned. "But dating you is bound to put our Y/N in danger. She could get hurt just for being involved with you, with your friends. She doesn't have powers to protect herself. And I can't imagine you're around her all the time to keep her safe."

As angry as I was at my parents for saying this stuff – even if they were saying it out of love – memories of the incident flashed to mind. They were right, but it was a risk I'd accepted when dating Wanda. What good was it doing by bringing this up now?

Noticing Wanda's silence, I spoke up instead. "I appreciate your concern, guys, but I'm an adult. I understand the danger I may be put in by being with Wanda. But I love her and I know that she is here for me if anything were to ever happen."

"We know," my father said, giving me a small nod. "We just thought we'd share our opinion anyway. It's been weighing on us for a while is all."

I sighed quietly. I couldn't exactly fault them for that.

"Anyway, never mind that," my mum said, setting down her fork. "Now that we've got that out the way, let's order some dessert, yeah? Our treat."

Nodding, I let my parents get excited as they perused the dessert menus before them. Instead, I looked to the quiet brunette beside me and saw how lost in thought she was, eyes focused on the table and stuck in a daydream.

With the hand that was holding hers, I patted her hand with my thumb to earn her attention. She looked up suddenly, questioning gaze falling to me. I frowned and quirked a brow, wondering if she was okay. She forced a smile my way, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I didn't believe her. I also couldn't question it right in front of my parents, so I decided to speak with her later.

Dessert went by quickly as Wanda, suddenly, wasn't very talkative. I didn't know if my parents noticed, but I sure did and I felt extremely guilty. If I had known of my parents' concerns, I never would have brought Wanda to meet them tonight.

After the evening came to a close and we all stepped out of the restaurant, I expected to be going home with my parents since we lived together, but they claimed they had more plans together tonight.

"Wow, you guys have more of a social life than we do," I joked when they told me to make my own way home.

Wanda barely smiled and I felt bad.

"We'll be back in a few hours," my mum promised, before pulling me in for a hug. "Tonight was fun. A great final night before we leave tomorrow."

I returned the hug and as I gave my dad one, I heard Wanda thanking my mum for the lovely evening halfheartedly. After saying our final goodbyes, Wanda led me to her car in silence, giving me time to try and put some jumbled thoughts together coherently.

As she had been for the past hour, Wanda was quiet on the drive back to my place. Whenever I would glance in her direction, she'd be chewing on her lip and focusing on driving, though the blank expression on her face made me think that maybe she was distracted. It didn't take a genius to know she was thinking about my parents' words and I suddenly felt guilty for putting that all on her.

"I'm sorry," I blurted halfway through the journey. "I'm sorry for what they said. It wasn't fair of them, I know that. They just... they meant well, Wanda, they really did." I tucked my hands under my thighs, wincing as their words echoed in my mind. "It doesn't change anything though, y'know? We're still us. We're still okay. I don't want you to feel like anything's changed because it hasn't."

I paused, swallowing hard, and glanced her way. She didn't even look my way, still in the same position as she was before I started to speak. Looking back to the road ahead, I let out a disappointed sigh, figuring she wasn't in a talking mood. I didn't blame her, but I hoped she would have understood what I meant.

The remainder of the drive was like this, Wanda deep in thought and me huddled under an imaginary blanket of guilt. When we finally reached my house, she turned the engine off and I waited for her to say something, literally anything. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel mindlessly and I figured she was out of words for tonight.

"I'll ring you in the morning," I mumbled quietly, opening the car door. "If you want to speak, that is."

Leaving her there, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front door, but stopped when I heard her get out the car, too. Waiting, I turned around and watched as she approached me, eyebrows knitted in thought.

"Please say something," I said with pleading eyes.

She licked her lips, biting her lower lip so hard I'm surprised she didn't draw blood. Finally, she released it and looked to me with apologetic eyes.

"Your parents were right," she said.

I blinked with confusion. "What?"

She nodded, looking down at her shoes momentarily. "They were right, what they said. My life puts you in danger."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I knew that when I got with you, but that doesn't change anything."

She gave a disbelieving smile. "Seriously? Y/N, that changes everything."

"No, it doesn't," I told her sternly, growing frustrated. "This is the stuff you sacrifice when you love someone."

She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "You shouldn't have to."

"But I chose to," I said, clenching my jaw.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she asked, stepping forward and holding my hand. "The incident?"

"We said we wouldn't talk about that," I reminded her with a low voice.

"But you remember, right? When they took you and I wasn't there? They could've hurt you!"

"Shut up!" I told her, raising my voice. Pulling my hand away from hers and taking a step back, I continued, "Why are you saying that? You came! You helped me!"

"But what if they did something to you before I got there?" she snapped. "What if I hadn't got to you on time?"

The memories came spilling into my mind, escaping the locked box I kept them in. Tears burned the corner of my eyes as I tried to think about anything else.

"You remember how scared you were?" Wanda asked, frowning at me with exasperated eyes. "You couldn't be by yourself for weeks!"

"Why are you doing this?!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "Why are you trying to frighten me?!"

"Because you should be frightened!" she retorted, stepping closer to me. Her dark green eyes were swirling storms of rage as she added, "It could happen again!"

I shoved her away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose with annoyance. Tears slipped from my eyes at the terrifying memory of what happened, what could have gone wrong, but I ignored them as I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Why the hell was she acting like this? Making me so angry at her for no reason?

"It's not even just that," she continued, jaw tensed. "How many times do I get hurt because of work and you get worried?"

"That's because I care about you," I muttered through stinging eyes.

"This will always be my life," she said, a hint of regret in her words as she looked to me. "I can't change it."

"I'm not asking you to!"

"Exactly! You're not! Which means you'll suck it up and stay with me and will live your life in constant concern for my well-being. It's not right."

I opened my mouth to respond because what she was saying was entirely stupid. But my emotions got the better of me and no words came out. Instead, my bottom lip quivered as I sucked up a breath.

"I need time to think," she suddenly said, anger disappearing from her voice and being replaced with an astute calmness.

My gaze snapped her way and through blurry vision, I watched her step back with her hands on her hips.

"So you can what – think about breaking up with me?" I said bitterly, and despite my anger, I didn't expect her to look at me with a softened expression, meaning my words were correct.

"Maybe it's better that way, Y/N," she said gently, eyes meeting mine.

I squeezed my hands together and tried to breathe through the pent-up anger that she'd caused, but the longer she stared at me, waiting for a response, the more I wanted to explode.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.

She pressed her lips together, looking away, and it only pissed me off more.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wanda?!" I yelled. "You're quitting on our relationship because, what, you think I'm in danger? Well, news flash, honey, the worst already happened and I'm still here!"

She barely flinched as she avoided my eyes.

"You're a fucking coward!" I said, pointing at her. "If you needed an excuse to end things, you could have just said so!"

Breathing out, I wiped my tears away shakily. I expected her to argue back, to realise she'd made a mistake and regretted her words, but as I waited, I knew she was certain of her decision.

"Fine," I settled, brimming with rage. "Fuck off, Wanda."

Still, nothing.

Turning on my heel, I stormed to my front door and went through my keys with difficulty, hands shaking with anger. I heard Wanda's car door shut from behind me but didn't bother turning around. I clearly didn't need to as I heard the tyres screech against the road and knew she was gone.

Kicking my door with frustration, I found the key and opened up before heading inside and slamming the door behind me. How dare she break up with me because of something that I chose off my own back! She just gave up like we meant nothing to her, not even bothering to talk things out with me! And selfishly, she left me feeling pissed and resenting her more than I ever thought I would.

"What a bitch!" I shouted into the empty house, throwing my keys to the side harshly.

When they clinked against glass, I looked up and saw the vase of flowers Wanda had given me before dinner.

"The first and fucking last," I said dryly, before grabbing ahold of it and throwing it against the wall without thinking.

The glass shattered on impact, leaving a mess of water, flowers and small shards on the wooden floor. I looked at it, the brokenness resembling how my heart felt. As the adrenaline of my actions and previous angry words wore off, all that was left was hurt and pain and oh God, Wanda was gone. She'd left me. She'd given up.

I sank to the floor, pulling my legs up to my chest, and hugged them tightly. Stifling my cries, I dug myself into my knees and felt a pain in my heart. Why didn't she fight for us? Did she not love me enough? Was I not enough?

—

"You ignored the memes I sent you, I thought you died."

As Natasha pushed right past me and into my house, I blinked with disbelief.

"Sure, come right in," I mumbled sarcastically, closing the front door.

Following after Natasha, I found her making herself at home in the living room, plonking herself on the couch and pulling her feet up comfortably.

"You could have sent an emoji or something," she continued, giving me a knowing look. "They were some good memes."

"Well, forgive me if I wasn't in the mood," I said sourly, joining her on the couch.

Her playful smile faded as she picked up on my words. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. It had been two weeks since Wanda broke up with me and in those two weeks, I hadn't been doing particularly well. I guess you could say I was still in a slump. A horrible, tiresome, angry, sadness-filled slump.

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn't. I was glad – the last thing I wanted was to prove that I was okay when, really, all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and suffocate under my duvet.

"I'm sorry," she said, resting her hand on mine. "If it's any consolation, I think Wanda made a huge mistake."

"Ah, so she told you," I said with a nod of realisation. I hadn't told Natasha the specifics of why we broke up, but clearly Wanda did. I guess it made sense – they were teammates. If anything, I was surprised Natasha still wanted to speak to me, instead expecting her to side with her friend.

"She did," Natasha answered. "And I think she's an idiot, but that's not my business. I just came here to make sure you were okay."

"Really? I thought you wanted to show me the memes," I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

She chuckled, slapping my hand gently. "That, too... but seriously."

My smile faded as I looked down, my finger playing with my trousers distractedly. "I'm not okay, but I'll get there." I began to glare at my trousers, my anger for the witch returning. "I have to be. Because she doesn't want me anymore... fuck her."

"I'd rather not," Natasha mumbled.

Though my anger was present, making me tense like it had been the last few weeks, I couldn't help but smile at Natasha's words. Then laughter bubbled from my lips and for the first time since Wanda left, I felt momentarily happy.

"I'm glad we can still be friends," Natasha said, making me look to her with a smile. "I know that you and Wanda are over now... but I still like hanging out with you."

"Me, too," I said in agreement. "Thanks for coming to check in. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did." She nodded before offering me a small, encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, y'know."

I wanted to believe her, but despite how pissed I was at Wanda, I still loved her. And I couldn't imagine stopping, though I knew I'd have to if I was to make it through this.

—

Getting over Wanda was a difficult process. Everything I felt was a mixture of resentment, exhaustion and misery because I missed her. I missed being able to call her when I saw somebody do something stupid in public; I missed kissing her when I hadn't seen her in a long time; I missed hearing her adorable accent first thing when I woke up after she spent the night; I missed her.

Two months followed the breakup and the only time I'd see her was when she'd dodge Anna's apartment upon knowing I was going to take care of her. I guess I was glad in that sense, as it meant I wouldn't have to deal with her awkwardly. But it also made me feel like shit because it meant she didn't care about me at all. Clearly our breakup wasn't affecting her like it did with me.

And it was definitely affecting me.

I was scrolling through Instagram one day when I saw a particular post on my feed from Natasha's account. Yeah, one of the Avengers had a private Instagram account. She gave me her username when she saw me on it one day and I remember being so confused to how she had it.

"I'm an Avenger, not a hermit," was her response, and from that day onwards, we followed each other.

So, I saw a post on her Instagram and it was some goofy photo of her, Tony, Bruce and Wanda. They were posing with exaggerated smiles as Natasha grinned up front; the caption said something about working long days, but I wasn't paying much attention as, naturally, my gaze fell to Wanda.

Just like everyone else, she had a playful, exaggerated smile on her lips like nothing kept her down, but what stood out was the sling around her arm and the cast underneath. It must have happened in a mission or something and it wasn't my business, but I couldn't help but worry. Was she okay? Was she looking after herself? I wanted to text Natasha and ask, but I stopped myself.

She'd broken up with me for this very reason. I wasn't agreeing with it, but for a second, I did see why she'd made her point. It still wasn't fair though. She didn't get to make that choice for me.

We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself. She broke up with me. It had been two months and I needed to let go. If she didn't care about me, why should I waste my time and energy caring about her?

Not letting it get to me anymore, I simply liked the post before continuing my scrolling. Though I knew that deep down, her face was imprinted in my mind and I still worried for her well-being.

—

The fourth month following our breakup was when I properly saw Wanda again, excluding the times she would duck out of Anna's apartment upon my arrival to care for her. It was also the first time since the breakup that Wanda made the effort to speak to me.

I was sat eating dinner on my day off when I got a call from the hospital nearby, interrupting my meal. The nurse was explaining how Anna had fallen over and hurt her back and was now in a hospital room. She was calling me because she thought I'd like to know since I was her registered nurse and carer. I was glad to get the call, immediately pulling my shoes and coat on and rushing over there to make sure she was okay. She didn't have anyone else apart from Wanda and I – it was no question I had to go.

Though, of course, I didn't really think about the fact that Wanda may be there until I saw her there. I also didn't consider the fact that I was wearing my pyjamas when I stepped in the lift and headed to Anna's floor. Too late now.

After asking the receptionist where Anna's room was, I found Wanda hanging around it outside the door. With only Anna on my mind, I approached her and tried to hide my panic. She spotted me instantly, stopping her pacing and looking to me with tired eyes and a frown on her face.

I didn't care that she looked worried, nor that she was holding up well since we last spoke in anger. I didn't care that she'd dyed her hair a reddish-brown colour, nor that she managed to pull off both that and the whole 'loungewear' look in a place surrounded by blinding white and blue. I didn't care that my heart ached when her green eyes found mine, nor that I missed seeing her so close and not in my dreams for once. I didn't care about any of it. Or, at least, I tried to tell myself that.

"What happened?" I cut straight to the point, stopping in front of her. "Is Anna okay?"

Wanda nodded instantly. "She's fine. She tripped over her dining room chair and hurt her back. The doctors just checked her out and said it's nothing too serious, but she won't be able to walk for a while."

I pressed my lips together, feeling the panic wear off at the sound of good news. Anna had always been more than just a patient to me and the last thing I wanted was to hear she'd hurt herself badly.

"Can I see her?" I asked Wanda, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, of course," Wanda said, before looking away awkwardly. "I was just waiting out here for you. The nurse said you were coming."

I chose to say nothing as I walked past her and into Anna's room, seeing the older woman laying on a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. When she noticed my presence, she smiled at me and motioned for me to join her side.

"It's so good to see you, milaya (sweetie)," she said happily, as I stopped by her side, "but you didn't have to come! I'm not dying."

I heard Wanda enter the room behind me, but she took a seat on the chairs opposite the bed. Ignoring her, I smiled down at Anna and grabbed her hand.

"Don't say that," I told her gently. "Of course I'm here. You're my number one priority. I had to make sure you were okay!"

Anna waved her hand in typical Anna fashion. "I've suffered worse. I'm absolutely fine."

I knew it was best not to question her, so I didn't.

"I'm glad you're both here," she said, looking between Wanda and I, making me swallow awkwardly.

Since breaking up, I hadn't mentioned it to Anna, but she wasn't stupid and she'd clearly noticed that we weren't spending time together anymore. I didn't know if Wanda had told her, but if she had, Anna never mentioned anything. Like now, she simply looked between us both with a grateful smile, unaware of how awkward we felt.

Thankfully, the awkward silence was interrupted when a doctor walked in the room. After introducing herself, I asked if I could speak to her outside about Anna and she happily obliged. She told me about Anna's condition and how it would affect the way I cared for her, especially regarding her new medication, and I asked anything and everything to make sure she was truly okay. After being reassured that she was, I thanked the doctor and returned to Anna's room, only to find Wanda and Anna in a heated a argument.

I couldn't tell what had got them so fussy as they were bickering in Russian, sentences too fast for me to comprehend with my limited knowledge of the language. It got to a point where Anna began slapping Wanda on the arm, looking angrier than ever, so I stepped between them and pulled Wanda away.

"What the hell is going on here?" I interrupted, holding Anna's slapping hand down to the bed and raising a hand to keep Wanda at bay. I looked between them, seeing the frustration in both their expressions, and asked questioningly, "Well?"

Wanda said nothing, eyes avoiding mine as usual, so I looked down to Anna who was glancing between us before spouting off into another ramble in Russian, trying to grab Wanda so she could yell at her directly. To my annoyance, Wanda tried to push past me, yelling back, and I was unfortunately caught in the middle as I attempted to keep them from ripping each other's throats out.

Thankfully, their bickering came to a halt when an unknown voice called into the room: "What is going on in here?"

I looked to the door, following the mystery voice, and saw a young woman, maybe in her thirties, standing in the doorway and looking between the three of us with confusion. I had no idea who she was, though she seemed familiar. Judging from the confusion Wanda had, she didn't seem to know either.

"Sasha," Anna breathed out with surprise, and then I realised. That was Anna's granddaughter. "What are you doing here?"

[lsholland]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 - "𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

Word count: 3.7k

tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder...

genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama

Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?

You can also read it on Wattpad.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

"Tom! Tom!!! TOM!!!" shouts a woman in a black hoodie among a hysterical crowd of young boys and girls trying to get this man's attention. "PLEASE!!! I love you so much" her voice crackles, she's sobbing in despair.

He stops walking and stands right in front of her, a sharpie pen between his fingers and an unnatural grin on his face. Even though these people claim they love him, he's tired of them. It's something with the drama, the screams, and the perpetual inconsideration that drains his energy. His straight face says it all, if only they weren't obsessed with his looks, he'd be pleased to spend time with them. But he knows he's just an object of their fantasies. He forces a smile, or something close to it, and accepts to take a picture with her. He stands next to her, his arms in his back, his fingers intertwined and shakily holding the pen, glancing at the camera lens, lost in his thoughts. His body is present in the moment, but his mind is thousands of kilometres away in the universe that is his brain.

And she's so happy to finally have that precious picture that her smile shows all her impeccable teeth; she's sweating and rapidly breathing and laughing with the same high-pitched voice as everyone else; she's just a typical fangirl. All her friends gather around her and whisper as if they were hiding a secret from an alien.

And onto the next one. Same hysteria, same cry for help, miserable for his attention. She hands him a picture of him in a Spider-Man suit and asks for an autograph while she's filming the scene with her brand-new iPhone.

It has to do with the way they treat him. The way they pretend he doesn't notice their weird behaviour. The way they simply believe he's not a human being. That he must be good-looking, happy, nice, and funny all the time.

"We've gotta go" says his assistant as he presses his shoulder with his hand. Tom looks at him with relief and closes his eyes for a second. He lets out a sigh as a soft smile appears on his angelic face.

"A'ight, I'm sorry guys" he apologises, but that's not enough. Many of them start crying and push through the thin barrier to get a hold of him; like monsters that haven't been fed, like addicts when you can't provide their usual dose of drugs. They look so disappointed and hopeless; leaving now would reduce all his efforts to dust. Keeping a good image and reputation is the key. He doesn't want to be hated.

Guilt rushes through him like a thrill; he glances at his watch and gulps. He gives them another 5 minutes for pictures, autographs, and hugs. Even if he's late. Even if he's going to miss his interview. Because he owes his success to them; or at least he thinks he does.

And when he goes into the back seat of this huge black SUV with no registration plate, he slams the door shut and . . . Peace. Finally, the moment he's been waiting for. The pressure leaves his body like a bubble burst. He sighs and relaxes his muscles, his head falling back on the seat. His eyes are closed; he doesn't say a word for the whole ride. His time alone is so rare and valued.

And when they arrive in front of that gigantic building to pass this final interview, Tom prepares to show his usual bright smile and pretends he's happy. Nobody notices what's hidden in his gaze. But his eyes are telling the truth. His eyes show how hopeless he is. But nobody dares looking into his soul. They only see the superficial layer, the mask he puts on every day. Because nobody knows who he is. Nobody cares about him.

It's so much simpler to ignore sadness in other people. We just tend to believe only good moments are worth sharing. We just pretend we're happy all the time because that's what everyone else does. And why would he show his sadness anyway? He has it all: a girlfriend, loads of money, a caring family, success . . . What can he be sad about?

The interview is done, Tom is in the car, cruising in the city. He's finally going home after a long, tiring, and stressful day.

He unlocks his phone and checks his text messages. They're plain and all related to his fame or his work. All his conversations are so self-centred. What are his plans? What does he like? And what's his opinion on this subject? He, he, him, him, again and again!

He's so tired and wants to be entertained. This empty space laying in his heart and brain becomes bigger and bigger. It's become harder to ignore it, especially when he's alone like tonight. Besides, he's too used to entertain others that he almost forgets what it's like to be passive and watch people do things. As if the world revolved around him.

Here we go. Instagram. The most toxic of all social media platforms. He scrolls through pictures of his friends. The famous ones on red carpets or photoshoots; the anonymous ones a drink in their hands. They're all so superficial. All the same. And the algorithm showing him pictures fans have taken of him earlier today . . . Icing on the cake. Why would he watch this? He doesn't need it. But he decides to read what the fans say, because he's curious. Or because he's obsessed with what people think of him. He needs to be known, loved, remembered, at the centre of attention – adored. He wouldn't need to sell his soul to the devil because it's already in him, and he's now paying the price of this sin.

The fans he met earlier, who were so happy to finally see their idol, were bullying him on social media. They aren't even aware of it. All these people objectifying him, posting pictures of his family – invading his privacy – and saying he can't 'write' or 'walk' or do anything properly because he's just human. They say they are joking except it's not funny. Tom's feelings are hurt, again. He should have written 'you're' instead of 'your', he should have noticed there was a hole in the grass and not trip . . . These images are roaming in his brain like a car's spinning wheels when you brake at 60 miles per hour; the pressure of the tyres scratching your mind, and the intrusive thoughts that can't be stopped like the wheel. Ever. And you eventually hit the wall.

He glances at the rear-view mirror and see his driver focused on the traffic lights. He glances around to make sure no paparazzi is watching and takes a flask out of his back pocket. His trembling hands poorly hold it, but he needs to drink something to feel better; to feel energised. He spills his boose on the leather seats and sighs with annoyance. Grabbing his hoodie feels like lifting the weight of the world; he manages to wipe it off and savours the sweet taste of vodka. Just one sip can't hurt.

That's how you know it's too late.

"Do you really need it?" says the assistant in the front passenger seat who caught him.

"It's just a drink" Tom replies instantly, frowning his eyebrows.

"I'm just worried about you, you know" he adds as he turns around and looks at him in his eyes.

"There's nothing to worry about," Tom mumbles as he feels relaxed "I can stop if I want to."

"If you say so . . ."

And even the people surrounding him day and night aren't trying to help him. Everyone's aware he's slowly getting addicted and is wasting his potential, everyone but the fans. Everyone pretends to love him, but nobody truly cares. They're just after his money, power, and fame . . .

It's like watching him tiptoeing on the deck's edge of a ferry and being shocked when he eventually falls off in the unforgiving cold, dark sea.

He smiles when the car stops in front of his London house. That's the only place where he feels like he can truly be himself. Or the last of it. After all, who is he really? Spider-Man? An actor that pleases 13-year-old girls? A failure? An impostor? Or no one at all?

What happened to the young boy who was excited about everything and anything? What happened to the one who used to laugh more than he'd breathe?

He is torn. He can't love anymore. He's had many girlfriends, each one more famous and beautiful than the last, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He truly loved them though. He felt good with them and always thought they were a match until he messed up. Making up a behaviour so they'd leave him because he's not strong enough to quit. Because he is just like this. A kid who can't handle success.

He currently has a girlfriend. Everyone loves her. He thinks she's too good for him though. Too beautiful, too clever, and maybe too famous. He feels like she's achieving much more than he is and that scares him. He can't even make love to her without feeling like he's not worth it. So, he ignores her calls, takes days to reply to a text, becomes cold as stone, distant, and unstable. This is how cowards break up. But she holds on to him.

Once he gets home, he sits on his couch and starts watching TV. His stomach is empty; he hasn't eaten all day but the only thing he wants is to drink more. It's like a voice in his brain that takes control of his body. He sees everything but can't do anything about it. The smell, the thirst, the mind that can't think of anything else. His hands are shaking, breathing becomes uneasy, he's uncomfortable in his own skin; he's a stranger to himself until he drinks. He's desperately waiting for someone to help him. But they're all too busy with their own problems.

He tries to drink from his flask, but it is empty.

He groans. "One more isn't gonna hurt" he whispers to himself as he walks towards the kitchen area. He opens the fridge and grabs a cold one.

And another one.

And another one.

And another one.

And another one . . .

The saddest thing about the situation is that he truly believes in his excuses. He doesn't realise he desperately needs help.

Now, the fridge is empty. But he still doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the uninhibited state he wants to reach. He's still a victim of his thoughts; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending game.

He glances at his 80,000 dollars Rolex and decides it's time for him to go to a bar. He grabs his phone and calls his assistant. No answer. He calls his second assistant then. No answer.

"It's only 2AM, come on!" he grunts.

Only?

He thinks for barely a second and grabs his keys and gets into his car. There's a night bar in Kingston that he absolutely loves, and he knows he's always welcome there.

As a celebrity he's obviously welcome everywhere. But he noticed the way people looked at him with pity when he spent an entire night drinking without speaking to anyone. Alone in his thoughts that only he knows. It's different there, the barmaid usually talks to him and entertains him. And she just doesn't care he's famous, which is rare nowadays.

He's been caught drunk driving many times, but he was always released without a word because he's so famous. As if all the police officers have daughters who worship him.

Maybe his problem is thinking he's above all. He who used to be so humble, kind, and generous.

He parks in front of the venue, but the lights are off. He rolls down the window and squints to read the paper sticked to the door.

The bar is closed for annual leave.

"Fuck it!" he shouts. He checks on his phone if another bar is open tonight. Miss Jackson is. It's not the bar he usually spends his time in, but the beers are good and it's not too crowded for him. He absolutely wants to avoid fans tonight.

Most of them are underage, it's dangerous for him. One mistake and he'd become a paedophile. That's why he swore to himself to never do anything with a fan, no matter how hot they are. It's harder to respect this rule when he's drunk though.

"Let's go then" he says in a lazy way, the alcohol slowly taking control of him.

His eyes are red, everything he sees is blurred. He can't keep his thoughts straight.

He starts the car and puts some music to lighten his mood. He needs this to feel better. If something bad happens while he's drunk it ruins his mood. And when this happens . . . he starts having very dark thoughts. The kind of thoughts you better keep to yourself if you don't want people to be scared for you. Where your life is on the line, and you don't care about tomorrow because you just want to stop it . . . The sadness; the anxiety; the constant fears. Because the only moment you feel happy is when you sleep, as if you were dead. Tom feels like this all the time, and he hides it well.

But now he's focusing on the moment. The boose allows him to feel better. He listens to this pop song and its energy is spreading in his body. He's pushed by the music; the excitement and adrenaline take control over his body. He's ready to go.

He quickly backs up the car. He's so excited to go to the bar to finally drink some more and—

BOOM! His car abruptly stops, it sounds like a crash. An alarm is wailing, echoing in Tom's ears, making him feel dizzy. The shock was so intense he hit his face against the airbag of his steering wheel leaving his skin half-burnt. He passes out.

Tom startles as he wakes up, "what the fuck just happened?" he hisses. He stays still giving time to his brain to proceed the information and checks his rear-view camera. It's been disconnected.

He jumps out of his car and checks what happened. He collided with another vehicle. A much smaller car with a crushed bumper. Tom's car is damaged as well, but he doesn't care, he walks over the small Fiat 500 and scans the surroundings. His heart is pounding; air isn't traveling down to his lungs. He suffocates as if he were trapped in a cage down the ocean. He doesn't control his shaking fingers rubbing against his sweating forehead. His lips are parting, gasping for air, while his eyes are wide open looking straight to the ground.

For a second, he realises that he can be in big trouble if anyone knows about this. This can be enough to be fired by the Marvel Studios and ruin his entire career, his life. No one wants a drunk superstar to ruin a movie's reputation.

He hesitates. He wants to run away. He faintly grabs his head in his weak hands and is heavily panting. He can taste iron on the tip of his tongue. He rubs his forearm against his mouth and feels wobbly at the sight of his own blood.

What is he going to do? Has someone seen what happened? And if he leaves, what happens to the unconscious person in the car? But if he helps them, what guarantees him he's not going to be prosecuted? And lose it all? But what if he leaves and this person dies? What if they die and someone knows he killed them? Each scenario is getting worse and worse.

There's only one viable option for him.

"Hey, are you alright?" he says as he approaches the fuming car.

He glances around, but the street is empty. That's the reason why he usually loves this place; because it's so quiet.

"Are—Are you okay there?" he stutters.

He opens the door and see blood. Dark, thick, red blood. An unconscious woman with blood all over her face is lying on the steering wheel. Her car is so old there is no airbag. The shock must've been tough for her. She might even have a brain injury.

Tom places his hand on this woman's neck to check if her heart is still beating. It's weak. She needs help or she'll die because of his stupidity, because he's a drunk who can't even check his surroundings before backing up his car. Poor woman whose life is on pause for his mistake. She'll die because of him.

He dials 999 on his cell phone and repeats what he's going to say once someone picks up the phone.

"There's a woman—she's injured! Car accident!" he cries. He doesn't even try to make sentences; he just wants this to be over. "Please come quickly"

"What's your name, sir?"

His body is wavering, tears are streaming down his face – it's absolute chaos in his mind. He can't tell his name; he'd rather die than publicly suffer from the consequences of his actions. He needs to fly away; he needs to escape from this nightmare. He needs to leave, and now.

He hangs up in a hurry. No one can know he is drunk, and he almost killed someone. He walks back to his SUV and catches one last glimpse of this woman's body before closing the door and driving away.

As soon as he leaves, he regrets his decision, but sticks to it anyway. His soul is crying for him to go back there and help this dying life, but his cowardice tells him to hide and wait until this is over. He's reaching his lowest point, and the only person he wants to see now is his mum. When she holds him in her arms, the weight of his problems is bearable; he can even feel relaxed. And he wishes she'd be able to do it tonight. But it would kill her to know what monstrosity her son just did . . .

He's home, all alone. It's been a few hours since the incident happened, and Tom can't think of anything else. This woman's face, her blood all over the windshield, her crushed car.

Why didn't she see him? Why was she driving so fast in an empty street at night? So many questions roam in Tom's brain, it's slowly eating him alive.

He's sobering up as the morning lights glow on his face. It's already 6AM and he hasn't slept at all. He watches himself in his bathroom mirror and only see dark circles, pale skin, and the features of a monster. The broken blood vessels in the white of his eyes give him an evil aspect. He raises his arm and see the pink burnt skin, another scar for life. How on earth could he leave a dying woman?

He doesn't only feel remorse; he doesn't recognise himself. He's lost and wonders what happened in his life to be so miserable he considers his career more important than someone else's life.

He firmly rubs his face with the palms of his hands and takes off his clothes in a simple sweep. He crawls onto his bed and covers his body with a weighted blanket. He's almost trying to forget he exists when he squeezes his eyes shut and stops breathing until his lungs pressure him to open his mouth. Nature has done a wonderful job preventing us from suffocating on purpose. What a bummer for Tom; he would be dead already if he could just stop breathing . . .

He takes his phone, his only friend and his worst enemy, and checks the local news. Maybe they've mentioned the accident and he'll be able to know what happened to his woman. Not many articles have been published since last night. He keeps scrolling until he finds what he's been looking for.

25-year-old in coma after accident in Southeast London, fugitive remains unfound

Tom's heart skips a beat; this article must be about her. For a second, he apprehends and hesitates to read the article. But his guilty mind needs to know everything about what happened since he deserted.

As he reads the article, he gently places his hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out loud. The woman was so heavily injured they needed to put her under artificial coma to keep her alive. She was on her way to meet her dying husband, in the same hospital she's at now.

Such an emotional shock inflicts a profound pain to Tom's heart. He sobs in silence and passes out due to sleep deprivation. He's finally at peace; no thought, no nightmare. His mind is off, and his body is fully regenerating. His brain is solely focused on keeping his body alive. His soul is resting for a few hours until his cell phone starts ringing.

Tom wakes up with a start and answers his phone without checking who's on the line.

"Tom, what are you doing? I've been knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes," shouts his brother "what happened to your car? Dude what are you doing? You've gotta get ready for GQ!"

"Wh—What?" he mumbles.

His brother knocks at the door. Tom gets off his bed and walks down the stairs with difficulty. When he opens the door, the lights blind him, it's too sunny outside. He'd rather stay inside for a few more hours.

His brother checks him out and sighs. "Have you been drinking? The photoshoot is in less than an hour and you look like shit"

Tom remains silent, trying to process the information.

"And what happened to your car, man?"

And here it is. Every memory comes back in his mind like fireworks and his feet are failing, he can barely stand still. He grabs his brother by his shoulder and holds him tight in his arms. He's the only one who can really help him feel better. He wants to tell him everything that happened, but he can't admit he's got a problem.

He's lost.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far of the story? Tom is in a very bad situation, I wonder how he's going to get through it?

Please like this post to be in the taglist.

[xpeachesncream]

restart | four

[ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG ] | [ series masterlist ]

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy, lots of insecurities and overthinking, angst, crying, bar scene, alcohol consumption, flashback scene in the middle of the chapter, a lil sprinkle of fluff, implied sexual content, bickering/arguments

note: honestly, this was ALSO not supposed to get this long but like… 🙃 here we are lol

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @sapphirejeon​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Okay, I think that's it." You said, hands on your hips as you and Jungkook walked through your door for the final time.

"What are you selling, the world?" He huffs and puffs.

"For someone who works out often, you complain a lot." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Where's Tae?"

"Sleeping still." He nods.

"Oh, okay. Ready to go then?" You nodded silently as you grabbed your bag to hitch a ride to the café with Jungkook since he was working today. He starts to talk about the girl who works with you two and how he thinks she's a little cutiepie. He has such a silly crush on her that his cheeks are lightly rose tinted every time he talks about certain encounters they've had. You're happy to see him happy, and you tell him to keep pursuing it since she's a super sweet girl. However, part of you is sad solely because you couldn't say you were 100% happy at this moment. You wish you were, but these problems were hindering you from feeling complete. You just wanted to get past this page in the book.

As soon as you both get to the cafe, you start unloading his trunk and getting everything inside. Jungkook claims he has the last two bags covered, so you walk to the back and take breather just to gather yourself before setting up. But you truly didn't expect to lose it right then and there.

"Okay! I got all the— Y/N?" Jungkook instantly worries when he sees you crying into your hands in the backroom and hurries over to you. "Hey, woah. What's going on?" He gets in front of you, gently trying to pry your hands off of your face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You continue to cry as he successfully removes your hands from your face.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" He wipes your tears with his sweater and lifts your chin to look at you in the eye.

"Nothing."

"The day barely started and you're already crying in the backroom." He says softly. "Don't try and lie to me."

"I just don't know what's going on between me and Tae and it's stressing me out."

"What's going on? Same stuff?" You nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You tell him about how he had been super weird about taking Jimin's help and how you both got into a huge argument about it. Then, you told him how last night ended [sparing your poor bestfriend the details] and how you couldn't help but feel used because he simply dismissed you, which is very unlike Taehyung when it comes to arguments and disagreements. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know he's going through a rough time, but Tae also needs to respect you and look at you as his partner, not someone who's also attacking him or against him. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No." Simply, no. Because you never get your friends involved like that. You just don't, no matter how much they wanna help. "He looks at me like I am, especially after this whole Jimin thing. I don't wanna say it's stupid because I don't wanna discredit his feelings, but god. Like, should I just do this on my own? Tell Jimin to forget it?"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're already getting a good start on your goals, Y/N. Don't let that go because of everything going on. Give him some time and space."

"I have been. For awhile now." You sat, feeling completely defeated already, tears still coming down your cheeks.

"Here, I'll go set up and I can take over the table for a bit. I'll ask Isabella if she can cover for a quick second." He stands in front of you, hands out to help support you as if you had lost your footing.

"No, I'll be fine—"

"Y/N, just sit. Okay?" He gives off a small sigh. "Just sit for a second and let yourself take a breather." He gently sits you down and makes sure you don't get up by slowly backing away from you.

"Kook, this isn't Marco Polo."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't run off because you're stubborn!"

"Hey!" Isabella comes running in, a little confused as to what's happening.

"Hey, can you cover me at the front for a bit?" Jungkook stands back upright in a normal position to ask her sweetly, hands tucked behind his back as he bounced on his feet. This boy.

"Yeah, of course Jungkook." She blushes.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." He gives you a quick look before dashing off. You lay your head onto your arms as they rest on the table, a small headache forming at the center of your forehead.

"You okay, Y/N?" Isabella asks softly as she puts her things away.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a really weird day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." You feel her hand caress your back. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She says before shuffling herself out of the room. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on with you, and why you were feeling this way. You were just so sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

This was slowly taking a toll on you, and you weren't even sure if Taehyung realized what he was doing was hurting you in the process.

He can't say he does.

Tae set the weights down back onto the rack aggressively before sitting on the bench, watching Jimin finish his set. They had been working out after lunch, Jimin calling him shortly after Taehyung had fully woken up.

"Are you gonna go to the café after this?" Tae shrugged.

"I don't know, Y/N said she didn't need help and wouldn't be there all day."

"You won't even visit for a bit?" Jimin asks. Usually Tae was rushing to get back to you, but he knew everything that had been going on had been affecting your relationship to an extent.

"We'll see."

"You two coming to the bars tonight then?"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"Nothing. Just getting together like old times. I told Kook, Hobi and Yoongi. They're down." Tae nodded.

"Joon, too?"

"Joon, too."

"Me and Y/N will probably go but I don't think we'll stay long. She has to do that thing at the school—" He scratched his head. "The thing— the exhibit and talking to incoming art students or whatever." Jimin chuckled at how Tae couldn't get his words out.

"It's not whatever."

"You know that's not what I mean." Tae rolled his eyes at him, annoyed all over again at how Jimin had been kissing your ass lately. Cause fuck, the way Jimin had been painting himself as a knight in shining armor, an angel even, was pissing him the fuck off. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to support you, or like you couldn't turn to him for help. He hated that feeling, even though he had been rude as hell and showing it in a different way.

"That's fine. Just come out and hang out for a bit." Jimin sighed as he sat on the bench next to him, drinking some water before placing the bottle back down on the ground. "You two doing okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think we aren't?" Tae asks, getting defensive. Jimin quickly eyes him, reading his body language. He knew Taehyung so well - so fucking well that he knew almost immediately when things were taking a toll on him. Things liiiike.. his parents. As a prime example. Jimin knew Taehyung and his parents obviously didn't have the best relationship, and he knew he took things to heart whenever his father got on him about stupid shit [just like he did over that dinner]. Taehyung wasn't one to show emotion much; he liked showing people he was mentally tough and that he could handle whatever came his way. For the most part, it was true. But, Jimin and Namjoon also knew he wasn't always like that, especially when it came to things that mattered the most to him - his family and you. Taehyung hated to admit it but his family's opinion of him was important no matter what. He was hard on himself because he wanted them to be proud. He wanted to actually feel like he had been doing something good for once. He was still longing for that feeling no matter what he said or did. It was a never-ending battle; like a plot with no happy ending in sight.

"I'm just asking." Jimin threw up his hands, showing that he wasn't suggesting anything behind the harmless question.

"We're fine. I know she's been stressed lately because of work and her art."

"Mmm."

"It's funny." Taehyung chuckles at himself.

"What's funny?" Jimin laughed a bit, confused.

"I didn't expect to be caught up in her like this. After Hana, messing around with all these girls. She's my fucking fiancé."

"Yeah and you better not fuck that up." Jimin stands to gather his things.

"You sound like my dad." Tae jokes, even though he was pretty offended.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to." Jimin instantly apologizes, knowing everyone had been walking on eggshells around Taehyung lately. "She's a good girl, you've got it good."

Taehyung softly smiles at the thought of you, but he wasn't gonna lie, he was hurt by Jimin's statement. Call him sensitive or whatever, but he wasn't feeling the fact that people were constantly looking at him as a fuck up and hinting at it. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme lately. "You ready?" Tae sighs before grabbing his stuff. They get into his car, departing from the gym to make their way to Jimin's so he can get dropped off before Tae heads home. Taehyung replays yesterday's events in his head, which instantly irks him all over again. But, he has such a soft spot for you that he feels terrible for having been too harsh about it. He was still upset, and he wasn't gonna let up on his feelings. But he knew he should have been better about how he approached it. He knew better than that. He's learned to do better.

➤ FLASHBACK

Taehyung excitedly parks his car at the café to surprise you for your pop up today. He had been working endlessly to finish off finals strongly, and he had been so busy that he hadn't really gotten a chance to help you or support you. He felt terrible about it because you were his babygirl and he wanted nothing but to spoil you for all the hardwork you've been putting in.

He creeps up behind you, bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. "Excuse me, miss." He says lowly near your ear.

"Holy fuck!" You say as he startles you. "Babe, what the hell! Don't do that!" He laughs.

"What's cookin', goodlookin'?" He wiggles his eyebrows, making you chuckle. "These are for you." He smiles toothlessly as he hands you the pretty bouquet. "And your favorite!" He hands you a Mcflurry cup.

You squeal. "Oreo Mcflurry! Aw, thank you baby." You place a quick kiss on his lips. "But don't ever scare me like that!" You playfully hit his chest, causing him to erupt in laughter.

"You should've seen your face."

"Ha-ha, very funny." You rolled your eyes, causing him to pinch your cheeks.

"How's it going?"

"Welp, I'm almost out for the day." You giggle. "I, uh, may have underestimated." You look down at his hoodie, realizing it was one of the hoodies you had made for a previous collection you sold at Jin's. "Waaaow, cute sweater, who made it?"

"Mm, I don't know if you know her. Her name's Y/N."

"Uh huh?" You nod, hand on your hip, waiting to hear more.

"She stands about this tall." He lowers himself close to the ground, causing you to laugh. "Cute, right? She's beautiful, incredibly smart and sexy. Brilliant visual designer and illustrator. Packed with hella attitude." He pretends to ponder on his thoughts. "I could go on about her, really. She's one of a kind."

"Cute. She must feel lucky." You smile.

"I know, I'd feel lucky if I knew me too." You roll your eyes and playfully hit him. "Ah, I'm kidding." He pulls you into a hug. "I keep this sweater in my trunk."

"Oh, so you keep it in your trunk just for emergency wear?" You sarcastically ask as he holds you from behind.

"Yeah, and cause it's the only sweater I'd choose to wear out of the hundreds I own." You smile up at him. "Mhm, not gonna try and win that one." He places a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek before pulling away. "Show me. How can I help my pretty baby today?"

➤ END FLASHBACK

"Hey, I can't stay out late tonight because of the event tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung says softly.

"Please don't drink too much."

"I wooooooon't." He whines with a small sigh, also slightly offended at that statement. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that his own father painted him in such a negative light that everything seemed off to him lately. Like people were just out to get him or constantly looking down at him and his actions. A personal attack at who he was. It was slowly piling up for him and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

You prepared a quick dinner while he hopped in the shower. You set his plate aside before taking a look at the mail that had come in today.

Bills, bills and more bills.

You sighed to yourself as it felt like you had just paid things off, but clearly not. Moving into Taehyung's wasn't the greatest idea, being that his space was much more expensive than yours. But, he did have the space you needed for your work. There was money left, but you knew it wouldn't last forever. You hated tapping into your savings and whipping out your credit cards because you wanted to keep yourself clean as much as possible. However, that was proven difficult as of late. It was a sacrifice, especially since Taehyung had cut off his mother's help. Taehyung's pride was such a curse sometimes.

You shook your head, already finalizing the fact that you would deal with it later. You had began to set your things aside for the new student event tomorrow morning. You figured you'd get there early to set up and make your table at neat and cute, so you didnt have to worry much about it right now.

Taehyung comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back and wet. You turn to face him, your eyes wandering down to his chest and bottom area. God, why was he so beautiful? It wasn't fair. You loved him so much that you could crumble even being upset. He talks a whole lot about you being the death of him, when really, this man is going to be the death of you. Truly. There's no debate about it.

Getting to the bar, you both immediately spot your friends in the corner, a huge tower of beer decorating the center of the table. Jimin is the first to stand, coming towards you two with a huge smile on his face.

"Friends!" Jimin yells. "Drink!" He says, holding up two shot glasses.

"Fuck, man." Taehyung says taking the glass. "We just got here."

"So! Y/N needs to be home early remember?" He watches wide-eyed as you two take the shot and make sour faces at each other.

"Okay, I'm good." You say, being that you were the DD tonight. Taehyung could enjoy himself if he wanted to [to an extent], but you definitely needed to be in tip top shape to be a good role model to those incoming art students tomorrow.

Throughout the night, the bar starts to get packed from end to end, you and your friends staying at the table and keeping to yourselves. You could tell Taehyung was crossing the line of pretty fucking drunk, which somewhat bothered you. You literally just told him to take it easy tonight - just for one night - so you could do what you need to do tomorrow.

"Hey." Jimin comes next to you, swinging his arm over your shoulder like he always does. "One more shot?" You give him a toothless smile. Ugh, why the hell not? Your man was drunk, and Jimin had only been helpful lately. You could at least return the favor by taking a shot with him.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You." He smiles. "Your shop. Your art. It'll only go up from here, yeah?" He rose his shot glass up before clinking it against yours and taking it to the neck.

"Mkay, that does it for me." You chuckle. "Thanks for the shot."

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You looked at your watch. "Should probably get out of here soon, but Tae looks like he's enjoying himself. I don't wanna drag him out of here."

"We can just bring him home." You shake your head worriedly.

"I don't wanna leave without him." Jimin chuckles and looks over at Taehyung.

"He'll be okay and you'll be just fine tomorrow. Besides, you can make up all the bullshit in the world to tell the incoming students, they'll believe it either way."

"That's mean." You chuckle.

"Come. Let's dance!" Jimin says, leading the way to the empty space near the table. Everyone gets up to dance, Taehyung slipping himself behind you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Can I at least get one minute with my lady without Jimin interrupting?" He says in your ear.

"Taehyung." You flatly say, looking back at him.

"That's your mad face." He holds you tightly from behind as he sways you from side to side.

"I'm not mad."

"Mhm." He kisses the back of your head. "Why don't you have fun with me for a little? We'll go home after this." You couldn't even stay mad at him, with that fucking frustratingly handsome face of his. He was definitely drunk though, you could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath as he danced with you for a bit. You let him be, just so you wouldn't trigger anything within drunk Taehyung. Everyone around you was having a good time, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you pretty hard. You missed the days where you could get together and go to parties after a long week of school. Or, when you would tease the fuck out of Taehyung as his fuckbuddy during parties, or at the clubs. You know, before graduation and responsibilities happened.

But as one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, you found yourself getting restless. It was nearing 2AM and you had to be at the school by 8am - even earlier just to set your table up. You made your way to the bathroom, hoping Tae would get the point and start getting himself ready to leave.

Right.

Once you were out the bathroom, he'd realize you had been gone for a little and start saying his goodbye's. He'd realize time got to the best of him. Right?

"It's a fucking good time tonight!" Jimin tells Namjoon, laughing with him as he watches Joon act a fool with his dance moves.

"I'm sure it is, since you've been in Y/N's space the entire night." Taehyung says it jokingly, but he doesn't realize it only comes off that way in his head. Jimin furrows his brows at him, his high quickly dying with Taehyung's unnecessary comment.

"Don't start with all that. Not tonight. Everyone's having a good time--"

"Or what, Jimin?" Taehyung chuckles like the petty ass he can be. "You know it's true. Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be crossing boundaries?"

"Hey, let's step back for a bit." Jungkook lightly tugs on Taehyung's arm as he hears the conversation going south quickly. But Taehyung breaks from his grip, stepping forward towards Jimin.

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Haven't you already? Swinging your arms around her and shit, being all angelic--"

"Tae, come on. That's enough. Don't." Namjoon steps in the middle. "Let's go outside to get some air."

"You really wanna make me look that bad in front of my own girl?" Jimin lightly pushes him away, Taehyung getting too into his space.

"Enough." Namjoon shakes his head, aggressively stepping in the way to create distance. Taehyung shakes his head and walks off, the rest of the group watching as he walks. You finish off in the bathroom, assuming Tae was already getting ready to go. However, you realize your assumption of leaving by the time you're back is absolutely incorrect because when you get to the table, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tae?" Kook looks at you frazzled, before his eyes begin to pan the room again.

"Look, don't freak out, but him and Jimin just got into it and he walked off."

"What the hell do you mean they got into it and he walked off?"

"It's nothing, Tae is just drunk—" Kook squeezes your wrist and shakes his head.

"No, it's not just nothing because you and I both know how he's been feeling lately." You run your hand through your hair. "What did he say?"

"He just got into it about Jimin getting close to you lately, and how he felt like he was disrespecting boundaries." You sigh heavily.

"Fuck."

"We have an issue." Namjoon comes back from out of the blue. "He's not around."

"What do you mean?! Where did he go?" You run your hand through your hair.

"Okay, let's not panic." Jungkook tries to relax you. "Let me go check the bathrooms." Namjoon nods as he continues to look around the room.

"Please? We should get home." He nods to you before he's off to check for Tae in the bathroom. You stand near the table awkwardly, worry filling you quickly the more time passes.

"Hey, you okay? What can I do?" Hobi squeezes your arm, his face flushed with a red tint from how tipsy he is. You give him a small, reassuring smile and nod to try and keep calm.

"I honestly don't know anymore, but I'll be good. I think. We're just gonna look for him and head home."

"Is Kookie looking in the bathroom?" You nod. At this point, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook coming back alone.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him in there. I swear I tried."

"So, where the hell is he?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Lets check around again. I won't leave until we find him."

"Have you tried to call him?" You had already beaten Yoongi's question, calling Taehyung's phone only to see his phone vibrating and ringing on the fucking table. "Hm, okay. Maybe not."

"Fuck." You snatch Taehyung's phone from the table. "Is he serious right now? It's about to be 2:30AM. How the fuck can he get lost at this time?"

"Y/N just go home, we'll find him and bring him home." Jimin says, coming back from roaming around the place.

"No, I'm not leaving here without him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." He says, looking at you in the eye. Although he was pretty fucking pissed, he couldn't help but worry about him either. No matter what, that was still his bestfriend. He didn't want anything to happen to him.

"It's not your fault."

"We need to check around the neighborhood." Jungkook suddenly comes back and grabs your arm. You follow him, Yoongi, Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin outside of the bar, the cold hitting your skin harshly.

"Let's split." Namjoon says. Jimin and Hobi split, Namjoon and Yoongi sticking together to go down a different path. You kept yourself close to Jungkook, knowing there were all sorts of drunk ass men out at this hour and you weren't helping wearing a tiny ass skirt and a deep cut shirt.

"Cutiepie, let me come holla!" A dude yells as he tries to swing his arm around your waist. Jungkook easily pushes him off, glaring at him.

"Back the fuck up." He spits out, your bestfriend coming to your rescue amongst the sea of men you're encountering on the sidewalk right now. He throws his jacket over your shoulders, hoping to shield you from them and the cold. "Your outfit." Jungkook frowns, a little worried.

"I mean, I didn't expect to lose Tae tonight." Once you had gotten to a quieter part of the street, you come from behind to walk beside him. "Where the hell could he have gone?" You whine. You're more worried for his safety and wellbeing right now more than anything and all you wanted to do was find him and bring him home, even though you were slightly worrying about yourself and how things would go tomorrow. You could give him an earful later. It could wait.

"He couldn't have gone far." You both continue down the street, heading towards your car, hoping he may be around the area. Jimin calls to check in, saying him and Hobi hadn't caught sight of him yet, and the same thing goes for Yoongi and Joon. You almost want to cry when you don't see Taehyung near your car, but Jungkook ends up walking further down towards the park near your parking spot. "Y/N! Here!" He calls out, running towards an individual slumped over on their knees on a bench. "Taehyungie?" Jungkook sits next to him and shakes him a bit.

"Shit dude, I just kept walking then I suddenly had no idea where I was at." He drunkily says as you sit next to him and sigh heavily.

"No one said you had to do that, Tae."

"I just needed some air."

"Yeah and look where that got you, it's close to 3AM." You respond, irritated.

"Y/N." Jungkook says softly, shaking his head at you as if he were signaling for you to quit with your attitude. "Let's go back to the car." Jungkook watches him stand up and wobble a bit, but eases up when he realizes Taehyung is capable of walking himself to the car. You three get back safely, letting the others know that you had found him before driving Jungkook back towards the club so he can meet with everyone else. You quickly thank him for his support before driving off to head home.

The car is incredibly cold, and silent.

"Love, I'm sorry. I just needed air and got lost." He breaks the silence.

"I see that." You say softly as you drive home, keeping your eyes glued to the road in front of you.

3:23AM.

"Please don't be mad." He gives your thigh gentle squeeze. "I just got a little into my head tonight." You sighed, gently removing his hand from your thigh.

"Taehyung, I'm your fiancé, I'm doing this with you and only you. Do you even understand how worried I was? You just walked off, without your phone. Without saying anything to me. Just cause you got in your head for no reason."

"I'm sorry." He repeats at a whisper. You don't say anything else for the rest of the drive home. You silently park the car and head to the apartment, Taehyung sluggishly following behind you. He knows you're bothered, knowing it's closing to 3:30AM and you had an early morning. Honestly, he didn't realize how drunk he was until he had gotten himself into that argument with Jimin then got lost, especially without his phone. The fact that he had made you worry and stress like that made him feel terrible, especially after these past few days. You could have easily left, but you didn't leave without him even if it was this late. He instantly just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how sorry he was.

You quietly get ready for bed and line your things up by the door, just so it would be an easy quick and grab as you head out in the morning. You slip yourself into the sheets, Taehyung following shortly after he gets himself ready for bed. He shuts off all the lights and grabs himself a water bottle to sit by his nightstand before slipping in next to you.

"I love you." He whispers against your ear, wrapping his arms around you. But you don't respond. He peeks over to see your eyes shut, silently sighing to himself as he nuzzled his head against the nape of your neck. He knows you aren't fast asleep yet, and it hurts him that you hadn't said it back. You both just knew exactly how to love each other well, but also push each other's buttons. But, maybe, it was true - he was just fucking up left and right lately. Enough for you to go to bed without saying 'I love you' back.

undefined

'cause baby if i find a way, i'm sure of it, this love won't stray; just give me a chance to say i love you, and i need you. now are you here to stay, or fade away like every other day? you're the reason that i lie awake

track two: 3AM - finding hope

[dead-un-arrival]

Matt Murdock - I Can't Stop This And It's Killing Me (part 3/4)

Summary: Matt keeps finding a way to enter your life and you don't know how you feel about it.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: None.

Masterlist

The next morning you get up and take a shower feeling much better than yesterday. Once you change into new clothes your phone starts to ring. It was Matt.

"Hey, Murdock. What's up?" You could hear his smirk on the other side of the phone.

"Well, you sound much better."

"Uh-huh but I'm betting that's not the only reason you called." He laughed.

"No, actually I called to see if you wanted to see if you'd like to go on a date tonight."

"Well I mean if no one else is offering I guess I'll settle for you." You smile at your own humor while Matt laughs.

"That's all I'm asking I'll pick ya up at 6?"

"Sounds great." You hang up.

You take a seat on the couch and turn on the tv to see that Daredevil is on the news and the speaker mentions all the people admitted into the hospital who claim to be saved by him. There's video surveillance showing him getting hit in the jaw then knocking the man out saving the woman who was nearly killed. This only confirms your opinion on the masked man. He's a hero and you would love to meet him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Six o'clock rolls around and you just finished getting ready, wearing a purple sweater, black pants, and black boots. Your hair is down and slightly curled with very light makeup on. Besides, the man was blind. There's a knock at the door and you go to answer it and see Matt standing there, leaning on his cane, you assume he came from work and his smirk makes you smile.

"I'm sure you look beautiful." He smiles making you laugh. You close the door and lock it behind you. "Shall we?" He holds his arm out for you to take, which you do.

"We shall." You hum leaving your apartment.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• You got back to your apartment from a lovely dinner and a walk around the park. You and Matt talked and laughed about everything becoming close. He handled your sarcasm surprisingly well. And let's be honest you always appreciate a guy with a good sense of humor. Matt was a charmer no doubt, but you weren't going to let yourself fall that easy, even if you could help it. You have a very risky job and making big commitments for you is hard.

"Unless another guy stops by I'd like to take you out again," Matt says.

"I'll be looking forward to it." You said smiling.

Wait what? What was happening? Why are you saying yes to a second date? You can't let him think you're actually into him! But it's too late. You already agreed. Dammit.

"Well I'll see you later (y/n)" he said. He heard your heat speed up but kept it to himself.

"Goodnight Matt." You called before entering your apartment.

"How was your date?" Karen asked sitting on the couch eating popcorn while watching Titanic.

"What did you pick my lock?" You ask setting your stuff down ignoring her question.

"Yes and now we're even but you didn't answer my question." She said still staring at the screen. Jack had just saved Rose from jumping off the ship.

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction that I didn't hate it." You sit next to her.

"Ooo that good huh?"

"I can't do this Karen. You know I can't make commitments."

"You need to let yourself out more. Give Matt a chance."

You sigh. Not knowing what to say. You've had your fair share of one-night stands but Matt was something different. He didn't want to get in your pants. He didn't see you. But he saw you. Your personality. And in your opinion, that's the best way to get to know someone. He was charming, humorous, kind, and everything you've been missing in your life. From that moment you were determined to build your walls ten feet taller and you were not going to let yourself fall for some guy you just met. You were not in the position to date anyone.

The next morning you decide to go into work for the hell of it. You're stuck on the computer all day. You have an office which you rarely use since you always work with Tony. So you're in the lab, filling out reports and documents you've gotten behind on. Matt on your mind. Why? You thought. I never should've given Karen her phone goddammit. You groan in frustration letting your head fall into your hands.

"Woahhh what's got you all worked up?" Tony asks walking in. Through the years working with Tony you've become close and usually came to him when you had stuff that needed to be talked about.

"I met Matt." You said lifting your head to look at him still resting your chin in your hand though.

"That guy Karen's been trying to set you up with?" Tony asks moving over to his own computers. You nod.

"Went on a date with him last night."

"Like a real date? Not a one-time thing?"

"He's blind Tony."

"So? Just because the dude can't see doesn't mean he might not have other intentions." Tony was always kind of overprotective when it came to you and dating.

"Nah he's not like that trust me." You assure him.

"Okay... But I'm still not seeing the problem here. I mean, you should do something for yourself for once. You mope around here all day to do what? Go home and binge-watch? A guy in your life is what you need."

"Tony...." You grumble.

"What?"

"You are the only person I've been close to about my life. And I appreciate it. So you out of all people should know how I handle people who want to get close to me."

"You push them away." He nods understanding your predicament.

"Well, what about Karen? You don't push her away."

"We were friends before I worked for you and she still thinks I'm a tech consultant."

"Why don't you tell them you're an agent?"

"I'm not ready to be bombarded with questions besides how is she going to react when she finds out I've been lying to her all these years?" Tony nods again.

"Do you like Matt?" He asks.

"I'm not gonna let myself like him." You say.

"Ohhh (y/n) that's how you hurt yourself." You sigh. It's only been one date. You're just getting ahead of yourself.

"Speak of the devil." You say as your phone rings.

"Hey, Matt." You answer looking at Tony who raises an eyebrow.

"Hey (y/n) you busy?"

"Nope but I'm sure I will be. Whatcha need?" You smile.

"I was wondering if you'd like to meet me for some coffee."

"Sure." You agree and he tells you where to meet him and you tell him you'll be there in ten minutes.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile on the phone like that." Tony remarks as you walk past him.

"Shut up." You scold him before leaving. **************************************************** You arrive at the coffee shop at the same time as Matt and you two sit down in a booth by the window. You notice a few more bruises and cuts on his head and jaw.

"I feel like you want to ask me something," Matt says all of the sudden. He hears your heart speed up when he asks this and you blush a little for staring at him.

"Sorry, it's just-" you take a moment to collect yourself. "You look a little beat up with those cuts on your head." He smiles and looks down thinking of something to say. You can tell he's not sure what to say so you change the subject. "I have to admit I'm a little surprised, not many guys call me the day after a date." You take a drink of your coffee.

"Well, they're missing out."  You raise an eyebrow at his remark and try not to smile, even though he can't see you.

"Missing out on what? The introvert that can't hold a conversation?" There it is. That sarcasm you let flow out of you.

"You aren't that bad of a conversationalist."

"Ha, that bad. So I could get better."

"Well, I mean I like the sound of your voice." Your expression is one of disbelief.

"Pace yourself, Matthew." Now it's his turn to be shocked at your words.

"I'm trying." This makes you laugh. Your laugh is what Matt's been dying to hear.

"Any big cases going on?"

"Ah working on one yeah. Got called in to defend a lady in her mid-twenties whose boyfriend beat her. The man is obviously pleading not guilty, claiming the bruises happen to her at work since she's a construction worker."

"What's the guy do for a living?" You ask.

"He's a car salesman."

"Has she been beaten for a long time?"

"She says it started two months ago."

"If they got security cameras around the construction site you could see if she got hurt there plus she would have to fill out a report if it happened on site."

Matt nods clearly interested in how you know all of this.

"I watch a lot of crime shows." You comment. He laughs.

This continues for two hours, chatting about random things as you continue to impress him with your sarcasm. Again, he doesn't get much information out of you. Whenever he goes to talk about you, you somehow find a way to change the subject. It might be that you don't like talking about yourself, or it could be that you don't want to reopen parts of your life. Either way, it's way too early to tell any of it to Matt. Your conversation ends when Matt gets a call from Foggy saying they need him back at work. You head back to the lab to continue your work. On your way, you can't get your mind off Matt, and to be honest, it terrifies you. How can you be getting so attached to someone you only met a few days ago? It's not like you're into him, of course not, but you do appreciate his company.

"Ughhhh!" You groan walking into the lab with your leftover coffee.

"Whoa what was that?" Tony asked looking up from his work.

"I don't know." You groan. "I can't get him out of my head. He's not gonna be easy to get rid of."

"Why do you have to get rid of everyone who might be in your life for a reason?"

"Cause no matter what I do I fuck things up. It's easier to push people away than it is letting someone into every little aspect of your life." You lift your head fixing your eyes to stare at nothing.

"Some people are meant to be in your life (y/n). You need to learn to keep them there."

"I've never known you to be the sappy type Stark." You shoot at him after he rolls his eyes.

"Okay, this guy has put up with your sarcastic shit and still wants to hang out with you? He's a keeper."

"Screw you." You smile as you get back to work, AC/DC in the background.

Part 4

[kachulein]

I'm having some thoughts about what happened tonight with Will Smith and Chris Rock and I'm honestly conflicted about this whole situation.

(I will be looking at this incident alone and leave any other background information/history about the people involved out of this.)

Okay, so, where do I start-

Comedians. They are known for roasting people and I would be lying if I said I had never questioned the types of jokes comedians were making and whether those were socially acceptable. Some people argue that there's no rules when it comes to dark humour, others say some topics are simply off limits and that there's some things you simply don't joke about, in this case, a medical condition. I usually advocate for the latter because I think a lot of jokes are tasteless and could potentially hurt someone's feelings. I'd always choose being unfunny over potentially hurting someone.

On the other hand: violence should never be the answer. Was Will Smith in the right to get angry over said joke? Hell yes, in my opinion. No one has to just take a joke and you are always allowed to draw a line. However, resorting to physical violence is in my opinion an overreaction. This could've been handled in private and with more diplomacy.

I get that it's funny for some, watching the interaction and making memes out of it but something like this - physical violence - should never be the first reaction to a hurtful statement.

But yeah, I guess it is both debatable 1) whether comedians should be allowed to make such tasteless jokes and 2) whether what Will did was an "acceptable" response to said tasteless joke.

In the end, I think Chris Rock handled the situation quite professionally and continued on despite seeming quite shaken up by what had just happened.

And also, Will apologised (not to Chris though) later on in his speech when he won the Oscar and he also gave a really good and emotional speech...I was glad to see him pick the topic back up instead of just accepting the Oscar without saying anything and pretending that nothing's happened.

What has happened can't be changed and only time will tell what's going to happen and whether there will be any repercussions. But I guess what we all can say about this moment is that it had all of us shook.

[strongsassysexysloane]

Twelfth day of Twelve - A Finale Worth Waiting For.

A/N - well. I made it. >.< Thank you for all the likes and love. I really did enjoy writing these no matter how tired I have been ( I just slept 11hrs) I hope you enjoy it as much I just did writing it.

Happy Holidays! However you celebrate it or not 😊

Click below for previous days

Gif by @regal-roni

. . . .

The day had finally come and to say you'd woken up with a bounce in your step was an understatement. Regrettably and something you wouldn't share with anyone if they asked was that you ran to your front door when your eyes popped open at 0710.

Nothing was there of course but a thin layer of snow dusting your front porch. You'd even gone to your regular coffee shop this morning just in case they dropped it off there or ordered you something but Sharon didn't have anything for you but a knowing smile. So you order a cup to go and a freshly baked muffin to fill you up.

You'd stayed home all day other than the coffee run, never mind the things you needed at the shops you wanted to catch the person of they dropped something off. It was day 12, finale, so where was the surprise?

All your hopes and prayers were on it being Jacqueline, to no one's surprise, but there was massive doubt that it was actually her. She had an outstanding poker face, spending so much time with her last night, she gave nothing away even when you hinted towards it and there was no way she could be pulled it off unless she had help. Help in the form of the team and no one was that good at hiding secrets other than Gibbs. There was no way he would be in on it.

You thought about all the gifts, all the time it took for this person to go to so much effort, not just to get them, but to plan and organise it all so it was a secret.

It was getting late, the hope for the twelfth day was fading as the sun went down bit you pottered around your place, tidying up at bit as.youd neglected your home from working so much.

There was a sound that came from your front door and you sprung to check but there was nothing. Only footprints on the snow of a bird landing there and taking off again. You'd checked your front door more times than you'd like to admit today. Even Ellie had messaged twice, once at lunch and then an hour ago even though you assured her you would let her know when you found out. Your gut was telling you she knew something and was busting at the seems to tell you. If today was a work day you knew the secret would be out by now.

The sun was almost gone on another chilly December day and you were thinking about dinner. There was hardly anything in the fridge or pantry, you really shouldve done a quick shop while you were out for coffee. The only thing left that resembled some kind of dinner was a frozen cheese pizza so you turned on your oven, not wanting to go out for takeout and not wanting to spend the money on delivery. The snow had started to fall about an hour ago and you knew delivery would take longer, patience was lost around 0900 this morning.

You were about to unwrap the plastic from the pizza when the door bell rang. Your stomach dropped but your heartrate tripled and you couldn't move. The thought that it was just another delivery with no clue had crossed your mind but would the person be that sneakily cruel?

Yes.

They'd clearly been close enough the past 12 days to hear one or more of your conversations so...There was that hope again.

The knocker thumped three more times and your legs managed to skip to the front door in a calm manor unlike the pace of your heart right now. Taking a deep breath, you plastered a on smile your very nervous face and twisted the door handle.

The door cracked open a few inches and there was silence. A million things running through your mind all stilled when you finally got your answer.

"I was going to get Ellie to rock up and video your reaction but I thought, best not." She waited for you to say something, do something but you were searching for the right words. "Well, you going to let me in?" She shivered, looking around nervously as the snow started to pour down again.

You were shocked. The moment you'd been waiting for for twelve days was here and you had no words. Well, you had one. "Why?"

"Why should you let me in? Well the food is getting cold as I got your favourite from the little Italian place across town and it's been a traffic filled drive because no one in DC knows how to drive in snow so I took some back streets to get to your place so-"

"No, Jack. Why?" You were gripping onto your solid wooden door for life. She was nervous too, you could tell by her avoidance of eye contact and rambling. You couldn't tell if her cheeks were pink because of the chill or the situation.

Covering her mouth and clearing her throat, she looked up at you then. The first actual solid eye contact since you opened the door. "As good as I am at reading people and figuring out what to say at work. When it comes to this-" She gestured with her spare hand between you both. "- I fall awfully short." She paused, looking down again and you opened the door. "Thank you." She smiled, walking past you but you grabbed her hand to stop her in the doorway.

"You didn't need to buy me gifts to tell me you..." You didn't know how to finish that sentence. To date you? lo- no.

"I've always enjoyed buying gifts for people and receiving them, of course, but seeing your face, albeit frustrated sometimes, it was worth the surprise tonight." She shook off the cold and some snow fell to the floor.

"Jack!" You tugged her, closing the door and grabbing the bag of takeout from her and putting it on your small entry table. You laced your fingers together and brought your other hand up to cup her face, her eyes finally meeting yours. "Please."

She smiled, a soft curve to her lips and the best gift of happened, she was kissing you. Your eyes took a second to fall shut at the sudden soft contact. You melted into each other, her hand gripping your waist, grounding you while the soft kiss turned heated.

She pulled apart just far enough to catch her breath, your laced hands falling away as you picked up the takeout and lead her into your lounge room. The kiss had ignited something in you, you felt invincible and the nerves suddenly vanished. Nothing was said while you unpacked the meals she brought, you were about you hop up to get cutlery because the wooden ones they'd given you just wouldn't do but her hand squeezed your thigh stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart rate picked up again, not from nerves but from her touch. You hadn't looked at her since the kiss, although you felt like you could do anything right now, you couldn't look at her and see regret in her eyes. Unsure why you suddenly felt that way was a shock but -

"Y/n.." She breathed, her hand moving in soft circles over your thigh.

The low tone, almost a whisper, made you swallow hard. Her hand came up to cup your cheek and guide you this time to look into her eyes.

"Y/n -"

"Jack, please stop saying my name like that. I need dinner before I can do the things that that voice makes me want to do..." You rolled your eyes at how bad that sounded but relief came when her lips curved into a sultry smirk. Your avoidance of emotions wasn't lost on her but for now it would have to do.

"Fine. Dinner then dessert."

"Oh my god you didn't bring dessert did you?" She kissed you instead of replying, the answer on her tongue as she explored your mouth once more. "Right.. Shut up." You poked your tongue at her cheeky expression before turning back to dinner.

Surprisingly you managed to eat all the dinner before the make out session returned. At this point you were unsure if the dinner or her was the twelfth gift.

"What are you laughing at?" Her hand came up to cup the side of your face as her other ran down the side of your body, slipping under your shirt, again.

You were both stretched out on your sofa, Jack slipped in between you and the back of the sofa. You couldn't stop looking at her. "I wasn't laughing."

Her lips came down and ghosted over yours. "Your eyes were." She murmured before kissing you hard and fast.

You swallowed when she broke free, such a tease. "Was wondering what my day 12 gift actually was?" You smirked and squirmed under her ticklish feather light touch. You'd get her back for it later.

"In other words me or the dinner?" She said with a raised brow.

This time you did laugh.

"Think I got the best gift..." It was almost a whisper and you immediately stopped laughing and saw how serious she was.

You rolled onto you side so you were face to face. Your fingers tucking a few strands of hair that had fallen over her face, behind her ear. "Think we have different opinions there." You bumped your nose against hers, lightening the mood.

You were rewarded with a cute curve to her lips. "Don't fight me on this. You'll lose."

"I'm sure to lose many things that will come up in the next few months but my feelings for you. You can't win." You heart picked up, the feelings you just have away were much more than you planned in revealing.

She brushed her nose against yours, placing a gentle kiss to your lips which you tried so hard to extend but you pushed back with a laugh. "As much as I want to kiss you til the sun comes back up on Monday morning. I need to say something."

"Of course you do." You smirked at the light shove you got but you didn't care what she did to you. Right now Jacqueline Sloane was on your couch, in the middle of make out sessions. If you died tomorrow you'd be a happiest person in the world.

"I'm definitely going to win all the arguments over the next many years."

With that there was nothing else to say, the past twelve days had been fun and exciting with all the gifts you'd received but nothing compared to day twelve.

. . . .

I tried so hard. SO hard to not make who the gift giver was so obvious but like... You all know what stories I write. If Jack Sloane isn't the centre of the story then why am I writing it??

Drop a comment, I'd love to hear from all of you :)

[memory-hoarder]

WARNING (LONG POST AHEAD)

I turn off the lights, scrolled my phone and clicked the Spotify app currently listening to (calming acoustic) 10: 05 PM, best time to unleashed all emotions that piled up from nowhere. I covered myself with a huge blanket and placed the laptop on my lap and decided to visit my page. I know, I'm being inactive lately but I'm doing my best to update my journal publicly to remind me of my long absences.

Tonight, I decided to post the questions I received a night before my birthday celebrated. I kept this on my file for a month now. Admittedly, this is the huge decision I made on my birthday. So, I asked a random people on my messenger lists - some are my work colleagues while others are acquaintances. At first, I am hesitant to ask for favor to anyone but I did. Well, I guess it was successful though I received different reactions - some confused and thought I was making fun while others are game on to sent their questions. Obviously, it took days for me to answered cos it turns out that I wasn't prepared myself for few questions that somehow affects me literally.

The twist here is I am not allow to send my answer to their questions. However, I can answer it through this journal. Which I described as bravery.

Here are some of the questions:

How’s Life? How’s Life?

A question that been asked me twice. Well, this year was the great sadness of my life that challenged me mentally, emotionally and drained me physically. Sometimes a mere struggle on financially. I’m doing fine but lots of times I seriously breaking down especially the trauma of what happened 8 months ago. But today, I accepted the fact and slowly healing me and appreciate what really God’s intention and plan for my life.

Are you happy right now?

Not sure how to put it into words but there is no reason not to be happy. Right? If you just appreciate the life you are living right now or even the smallest thing that makes you smile or giggle I guess there is no reason to be sad at all. Although, lots of times I felt happy, sad, angry or lost. But there are still lots of reasons to celebrate or be joyful too. I juts let myself felt all the emotions that life wanted me to experienced to remind me that I indeed exist. There are people who could bring me joy and sadness at the same time but all I know they are all part of my journey.

Have you ever missed me before we lost our communication? Do you consider me as true friend?

Of course, I do. I miss the old you the person who I genuinely treasured during my college days. And, you are one of the reasons why I indeed survived college. I just don’t understand why we both let this friendship died. Was it because we no longer catch up? But, how I hope building friendship again will no longer hard as I imagined. But, please know that you became part of my story. I always count on you whenever I am sad and confused. I feel comfortable sharing my thoughts because I know you will never judge me. Hope to see you again soon. Take care of yourself!

Why there are times you don’t have the mood to talk?

Because, I read my surroundings and I feel comfortable being alone not to isolate but to process my own thoughts with myself which my normal thing growing up and I choose this way - became aloof at times not wanted to talk to anyone or go out. It makes me sad to think only few understand my personality. However, I can't just normalize this because of extrovert people I knew. I don’t have mood to talk and I push away people closed to me because I find a happy place being alone. Its not sad or dark what it gives me is peace of mind that no on can offer.

Would you like to change your past or stay on your present path? Why and why not?

I believed majority will choose the past, we all wanted to change one thing that we regret of doing - apologies, goodbye's, places to travel, opportunities we must have and other important things we slip away that is why I choose the past over my present. One thing I am eager to experience all over again is my mom's precious life, only if I had the power to bring her back. I was just 16 years old when she died, and I think the years of her being a mother to us will never be enough. However, her life is a blessing and all the valuable teachings that she imparted on me and to my siblings will remain on us forever. How I wish for her to at least see as growing up especially my brother that she spoiled a lot, and for us to give back all the things she deserved. I imagined date her on a restaurant, buy her clothes, treat her to the salon or accompany her on the grocery store. I also wanted to visit the past to catch up with my high school friends – Mira and Jeno, I will never forget how they literally brings me deep joy and the reason I am early bird during junior high because of the dare. I just missed the sound of Jeno's sense of humor, I treated her more than a friend rather a sister and it broke me when I received the news that he's gone. I was not there for him nor visit his and mom's grave for years now. I wanted to comfort Mira, but I am too far away and impossible to have my own money for my flight expenses. What I did is to cried and prayed for his soul. All of the good memories flashed back once more yet I realized God might took away two beautiful souls in my life but I am confident they watching over and guiding me through life.

I am or was curious regarding James situation, did it ever cross your mind you regret James being your boyfriend?

In all of the questions I received this one hits me hard to the core. For everyone’s knowledge James and I are in a relationship for over 4 years now. Just like other couples we did fight over little things yet we matured and grow together. One thing I really loved about James Charlie is how kind and pure his heart. He helps people as long as he can even himself are struggling to live. Not to mention his over confidence that I am jealous of. I guess, because of how friendly and inviting his amour. Also, a talented one he knows how to dance, sing and imitate different kinds of sounds, He’s grammar and vocabulary are lit. He can also play guitar very well, draw portrait’s and even writing a poems. He knew, he won my heart through his creative abilities. I was also surprised how he interested over history of aliens, bermuda triangle, mermaids and what I consistently heard of the Pyramid of Giza, life documentaries and other related history of it. I find him sexy whenever he talked about some of it. Our age gap is never an issue on our relationship and I am lucky that he guided me on everything, considered my opinions or thoughts and when I freaked out badly which occasionally happened he handle me perfectly and I appreciated his temperament level during my anxiety attacks or whenever I choose to isolate myself him being shut off. He understood me in my own terms and be myself. Yet relationship will test your loved from one another, there were also things that I don’t like of him doing however James does listened to me. He listens to advises either coming from me or from other people that cared for him. He is a vocal person, that one thing that I fall for him is his sense of humor. I guess talkative and being clingy towards person is his nature especially growing up in a broken family. Consistent communication is a key. I remembered he told me that I was different to all the girls she dated on his past life. That I am out of his league, he doesn’t know that he is of out my league too but when I know him deeply he taught me lessons in life and felt his warm love. Over the course of our relationship he respect the limitless of our love language and he accepted and understood the love without intimacy is a different level of love and respect and from his perspective I wanted everyone to know that James has a huge respect towards me, my beliefs and reasons. How someone could wait for something that he can easily took away something on his past relationship. Our relationship is somehow changed us individually into a better person. Getting older, he became dreamer and goal oriented. I witnessed all his hard work, that he celebrated through silence. He wanted to build home and think of small business that will be our retirement in the future. How many kids we wanted or how many dogs we will going to breed. I guess, some people misunderstood James for so long, how miserable life that no one to talk and curse during your victories or failures? Friends and addiction in alcohol and other stuff are his way of escaped, escape from the reality that lead him to take his own precious life once. I know how difficult life for him way back on his early 20’s that he fought all his battle alone and how he overcome his depression and addiction without someone to lean on. And nowadays, everything makes sense to me that I realize being independent sometimes is not a choice but more on a decision. decision and accepting no one will guide you through your journey so you have to do it alone either it brings you sadness or happiness in a process, not to count living alone and make money all by yourself. I agreed he might do bad decision in life but that doesn’t mean his life has no purpose at all. Instead, God is confident that he will win this battle not for everyone, not for the sake of me or our relationship but for himself. As for our current situation, I know being with him and fight through the end will inspired him a lot. Yes, he currently working on his self and will prove to everyone when the time comes that he will be able to regain his new

life and continue living.

We introverts, tend to think a lot, like really overthink a lot. What do you mostly overthink and how deep? Deep, like does it leads you to think more negatively resulting to depression? (mild depression, maybe).

I overthink some scenarios on my head when it really affects my whole being and when every time I think of it, obviously it trigger my anxiety not depression I guess. I can recall one or two hard situations that happened to me, and I know it wasn’t me trying to act that way. I even punished myself and literally breakdown trying to hurt myself, call me freak or whatever cos now I asked myself too how I even allowed myself to did terrible things, because anxiety creeping on me and telling me to do it. But, mostly I think of is my future and myself – deep that it scared me a lot. I have lot of questions of this world that I keep on searching by myself until now.

Why it took for you to share your problems?

Honestly, when I’m having a serious problem I am not confident to share to anybody except to my family who already knew. It took too long because advises no longer work for me, I listened because it was normal people do – advise and advise. Maybe, it was me who are picky to share my problem with, sometimes people listened but never in heart. Not all people deserve to know your struggle and during your lowest times, I have my own terms of coping so you do.

How do you maintain your petite body? If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?

Wow! I never see this coming. Well, I guess being fit is what I inherited on my father's side. They not so fat unlike on my mother's side. I have no limit on foods I intake in other words not your discipline person to look up to. I do eat carbs, junk foods and sodas is always on my list. I never worried if I am physically fit aside from walking Maxine during days off. I don't know how do I maintain this body I guess I'm never. Being fit actually is my insecurity. However, I do loved my body whatever what happen.

Well, if I had 3 wishes in life - first, to end this pandemic so that everything will back to normal. second, for James to have peace of mind and good health while waiting for the process of his case. And, lastly, for me to be strong, lasting patience and strong faith.

How would you solve your problems?

Problems is always part of lives. But, I believed it is always about the degree of the problem. Whenever, I had problem sometimes I resolved it in time but other times I need more time and space to think what will be the resort of it. And, pray for some guidance.

As independent being, how do you handle depression and anxiety?

Good thing to end all of this questions, I became independent when I graduated from college. I have to commute 131 kilometers back and forth from another city just to apply on my first job and the process is never easy at all. When you sent all of your applications form on each companies but never accepted It brought so much sadness, one point of my life I am eager to seek job because I used it as my coping mechanism to walked away from home which I did now, I walked away to protect my peace of mind especially having anxiety growing up and having this thing is hard as people imagined. You might only see darkness and feel of losing but for me, I guess for a year now I handled myself perfectly I never allow this condition to swallow me whole and affect my way of living. I reminded myself to keep strong and remain optimist and always protect my peace of mind at all cost.

.

I am 24 now strong and happy and leaving Haruki Murakami quote: "And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what storms all about"

[littlelightingstriker]

Disclaimer: this post is not made to cause anger or to insult the Serbian government, it is simply made to report on the news what has been going this past days. Some of the information might be to strong, so please read on your own risk. People who are mention in this story will remain anonymous for their own safety.

#Serbia now:

On the 7th of July,2020, president Vučić announced that Belgrade will be closed and have a curfew between Friday and Monday and that more than five people should not be in the same space together. He talked about a lot of things like how many people are being tested, the possible 'lies' the government has been saying, Novi Pazar, a city located in south-west Serbia, who is in a critical situation because of COVID-19, respirators and many more. He talked about how people need to understand that this virus in not a joke in any possible way and people need to take more action and protect themselves and their family. The problem is half of the population does not believe the virus is either real or that it does not have the affect to enter the human body that fast. People are confused and keep asking the same question that nobody can answer. When he announced the possibility that people will have to stay the whole weekend in their homes, many people were frustrated with the decision and did not want to take his words for real. At the evening, massive numbers of people gathered at the National Assembly and started protesting. The protesting was not in anyway ' peaceful ' but ended being a disappointing vandalism.

Three cars and a police van were on fire. The damage was immediately posted. Hundreds of thousands of dinars are worth of damage.

Torches, tear gas, oysters and glass bottles were being thrown between the protesters and police.

Many people were injured and many police man were hurt. "It was a disaster. We tried stopping them but there were to many." said one policeman.

One of the protesters wanted to break in the National Assembly but were thrown out by the police.

Two men stopped an ambulance that was driving to the hospital with rotations. The two men were punished for their actions and many were disappointed with them.

Protesters DID NOT WANT any politician to join them and act like they care for citizens' rights.

Ana Brnabić was disappointed to see citizens' of Belgrade acting like 'h**li**ns'.

Kosovo was/is also another reason why people turned against Vučić.

Vučić was in the National Assembly but quickly evacuated with the situation going around.

A video of three men being hit and be*ten by the police after rejecting to leave the park was filmed and posted on different sites. The three men were laying on the ground in pain as the police left them.

A man, lost his father due to COVID 19 and blamed the government for lying about having enough respirators. He claimed his father was not given the treatment that was promised and was one of the most critical patient (and many other) in Belgrade. "This is for you, dad. I know you are watching and you are proud. I love you,dad. This is for you!" Said the man. After this video resurfaced the internet, everyone was angry that president Vučić lied about 'having enough respirators' and many left comments that they were not surprised and what a disappointment this country is for believing the words that come from the television.

Protesters are being accused of spreading COVID 19.

97% had masks but still did not distance.

Lockdown will be decided by the crisis staff.

The 8th and 9th of July,2020:

President Vučić has decided he will NOT make the decision about Belgrade. He admitted he has no right to make a decision he isn't to sure how to control.

Many faces were supporting the protest and they were not citizens' of Serbia. -Vučić.

Criminals were mention that they were the ones who were 'trashing' Belgrade.

COVID 19 has no connection with voting, football games etc.

Vučić kept bringing people down while making his people 'world leaders' and 'only hopes for Serbia'.

05.10.2000. is a wish protesters want to come true. ( The fall of Milošević)

Vučić is in shock why people keep bringing his country down while he is doing everything to make it 'grow'.

There will be rules for Belgrade no matter what.

Novi Sad, Niš, Kragujevac also started protesting.

Tonight (9th July.) protesters are peacefuly protesting and tend to keep it that way.

Politicians are calling out h**li*ga*ns and cri**na** after 'destroying Belgrade' and doing vandalism 'on purpose'.

Many people are angry that Belgrade is being in the situation where it's not safe anymore and being trashed by some idiots who don't even live there or came from a different city. They are accused of 'pretending to be Belgraders'. It is proven that they are more than 80% Belgraders in the world then in the own city. Belgrade is composed from all citizens' across Serbia.

Students are protesting after being told they have to leave their dorms for the third time because they need to be prepared for COVID 19 patients. "We don't feel safe. We want our rights!".

Protesters are being called out for fighting for their rights.

Politicians are calling protesters 'criminal slaves' for wanting to remove Vučić.

"We aren't allowed to stand for our rights. They tend to keep us locked when we thought everything is going undercontrol. They are playing for our rights. I lost my friend because she was told to stay home even though she had other medical problems. Instead of celebrating her birthday, I was mourning her name and crying. He (Vučić) doesn't care about us, he just wants the money. He has it. He is building Belgrade on Dunabe and he still thinks we care about some stupid project. How are we not going to protest? I do not like and I am against harmful and disgusting behaviour some people showed the first day and even now, but we can't just stand here and pretend everything is okay. He stole votes and as soon as he secured his seat, this country got even worse. How are we suppose to live here? How can we try and stay positive after everything he has done. My family lives in Kosovo. He gave it. He just sold that land like nothing. He doesn't care about people. He acts like a human but even the facade can't cover his personality. No one can look up to us and that's okay. We don't want '99 again. We want peace. We all want, all of us, we want to breath not to feel pressured. We tell our kids to get the hell away from this country and to never look back. There is no future here. We all know that. He always breaks his promises. Kids grow up and become adults, what children is he talking about?! Where is their future if he is only building Belgrade? What about the South? East? West? Where are their rights?! We are all equal and we all deserve so much more. We have to pray and hope for the best, but in this life we are always going to be left down. " a woman gave her thoughts about protesting.

Other reason's why people want to dismiss Vučić:

He promised everyone 100 Euros when COVID 19 became serious in Serbia. He realised his mistake and ended up giving the money to retired people and people with special needs. Other had to register. He went from helping to you have to do this so I don't embarrass myself.

People were paid to come and cheer for Vučić when he would give speeches.

He lied about the respirators.

People believe that the number of positive patients fell just so that elections could happen.

After elections, Serbia became the worst in numbers of positive cases.

Before elections 50-94 cases, 10-20 respirator patients, almost everyone is cured, Serbia is almost done with COVID 19.

After elections 300+ cases, 120-130 respirator patients, 1000+ in hospitals, 1000+ in isolation, Serbia the most critical on Balkan.

He knew Novi Pazar was going to blow up. He did not do anything.

Belgrade hospitals do not have respirators.

Belgrade has a population of 1 million residents and yet doesn't have the medical needs.

He doesn't have a full government. What kind of country is Serbia then?!

Something that cannot be answered:

Why do people who die from other reasons are COVID 19 victims?

How come the number of cases grew?

Did the government lied all this time?

Was professor Kon right all this time?

Why are people not in hospitals if positive?

How to isolate if you do not have your own bathroom and kitchen?

Why are there no punishments for not wearing a mask?

Is there really a vaccine?

Is the virus real? Is it possible to make it disappear?

Opinion:

Vandalism is not the answer. People have every right to judge Vučić. He is not that bad, but he is not a sweetheart either. Luckily people are peacefully protesting and want to learn to have manners. The police is trying everything to not fight the protesters. Punishing other people for the damage is not right. Being called disgusting names from politicians needs to STOP! We are all people with a heart, we say and do things we should not but that is not the point. Being called a cri**na* is disgusting. Everyone is frustrated with the virus going on but we have to be reasonable. If you are someone who lost a loved one due to COVID 19, my heart goes for you and everyone you love and care about. This is a scary year. It's breaking my heart so many people died not only because of COVID 19. The virus is not the main problem here. People are. This going on in Belgrade is eye opening. It shows people want a break. They want freedom. They want, like every other country, to feel safe. I totally understand the point of view from some people. I ,too, also know there is no future in Serbia until someone really comes and actually cares for people. If territory and fake promises are more relevant then a person breathing, my God save us.

Comment's about Vučić

We are a small country and we never were known for good things, but honestly, how can we have that if we don't have a leader?

Lies and lies. Breaking promises. Being disgusted with people that don't like your way of ''handling" a country. Manipulate people and bringing them down. Having politicians spit on your people?

Is that a joke or is Vučić going to take this seriously.

Kosovo is more important than people?

How cruel do you have to be?

How disgusting that sounds.

We are told people are dying for God's sake and yet you talk for 2 hours and that is it.

Tito is rolling in his grave.

Liar!

Why does anyone expect something good from Vučić?

Oh Serbia, poor little Serbia.

- comments from different sources.

For more information of these protests, feel free to look them up. I gave my personal opinion and I missed a lot of information about this protests but I shared the ones that needed to be put here.

If you are someone from Serbia, feel free to speak and to be free. If you wanted a change and did not get it, either run or keep blessing this country. You deserve much more. You'll get past everything. Keep running. Fight peacefully. Be normal and be mature. I wish everyone so much and pray everyday we get some peace and actually feel like people.

Don't look up to politicians. Nušić told us everything we need to know.

Be safe while protesting! Keep yourself safe and don't let a politician ruin your life. Bring back the rights and the light we all need.

Bring Serbia where she should be.

Not underneath.

[punkscowardschampions]

Jesse & Jac

Jesse: 👍? Jac: 💃🥂! Jesse: Talk so I know you can Jac: 'course I can Jac: if I was in any way prohibited rn, I wouldn't be sending you emojis at the same time, rest assured Jesse: alright Jac: come on then Jac: what is it? Jesse: my question that is Jesse: ❤️ or 💔? Jac: 💔 the drinks are so expensive Jac: that's a pisstake Jesse: get one of the princes to get 'em in Jesse: or your 👸🏾 Jac: we're out with our course, the proper posh kids do bullshit pretentious non-subjects so everyone is pretty tolerable, thank god Jesse: 🎨 history, werent it? Jac: 🙄 for the girls Jac: some business shit so the lads can be less of a financial drain more of an asset to daddy Jesse: gutted for dad then, he'd love a bit of that Jesse: he'd probably love being the only lad on a course an' all though Jac: did not need that visual Jac: ew Jesse: it'll calm you down Jac: I've barely had any Jesse: weren't what I meant Jac: You're well subtle, I'd have no idea Jesse: don't have to be Jesse: not at the club with the girl I love Jac: shut up Jac: I just told you how many other people are here too Jesse: that only matters if you care Jesse: or she does Jac: I can't ignore her, can I Jesse: I don't reckon so Jac: you know what I mean Jesse: all the ✨ makes her hard to miss Jesse: I get it Jac: you are such a stalker, honestly Jesse: you weren't fuming when I told you about her ma Jesse: ain't turning it off and on Jac: well that was handy Jac: this, less so Jesse: 🔧🔨 🔩 ⚙️🧱 Jesse: not my 9-5 Jac: hush Jac: you'd like freshers Jesse: nah, I heard drinks prices are a pisstake Jac: you'd probably get some freebies as entertainment, duh Jac: I've barely been to sleep, like Jesse: dreams are gonna be a headfuck Jac: you've yet to convince me this isn't one big fever dream so Jac: if I go to 😴 do I 💀? Jesse: don't smack girls about even if I am related to 'em Jesse: you're on your own there Jac: s'noble of you Jac: considering the females you are related to Jesse: 🏆 Jac: yes, I hear they do give awards out for that Jac: congrats Jac: how is everyone Jesse: they're still everyone Jesse: same shit Jac: your predictability is appreciated at this time Jesse: she's unpredictable? Jac: yeah Jac: well Jac: she either isn't, and I just don't wanna admit Jac: or she is, and I can do something about it Jac: it's confusing, either way Jesse: go on Jac: well last night, we talked for ages and she said loads of stuff and then I came over for a sleepover, not that kind though Jac: but we were both drunk and now I don't know how much she meant or would say if she weren't, you know Jesse: stop sleeping in her bed Jac: I'm not right now Jac: [picture of the clerb like see] Jesse: so funny you Jac: she asked me Jesse: and you can't ignore her, I heard Jac: she did beg so Jac: it'd be rude Jesse: what? Jac: what do you mean what? Jac: she all but said I had to Jesse: for you or anyone Jac: I don't know Jac: [sends relevant chunk/ Jac: what do you think? Jesse: she always like that? Jac: is that a Q or are you telling me? Jesse: it's got a ? Jac: until yesterday, I hadn't spoken to her for 2 years, if you recall Jac: but we were always like that, kinda Jac: it feels different somehow but that could be wishful thinking on my part Jesse: Yeah Jesse: I dunno, you told me she was drunk so when I read it she sounds drunk Jac: yeah Jac: think so Jac: she was pretty wasted Jesse: & I dunno how girls talk to each other Jac: me either Jesse: when you were mates with Is what was her 🗨 like? Jesse: ever beg you to do owt? Jac: No Jac: maybe be nice to her but who wouldn't given Jac: it was nothing like that Jesse: what's Sav like with dickheads who ain't you? Jac: there weren't no one but us Jac: when she was in Dubo Jac: that was the whole thing Jesse: tonight then Jac: she's not going that hard with strangers Jac: you saw the ✨ Jac: obviously she's more social than I am Jac: but like, no it's not totally the same, even if I'm being brutally honest with myself on it, still think it's different Jesse: there you go Jac: what if she's a friendly drunk Jesse: you've been drunk with her before Jac: I also misread it last time Jac: that's why this is so fucking confusing Jac: 'cos I thought it was more last time 'cos of how she was, how we were, I didn't just get that from nowhere Jac: so I can't just go with my gut or common sense on it now either Jesse: Talk to her Jac: 🥺 Jesse: leave it til after freshers Jesse: give her a chance to be sober Jac: works for me Jac: I can find another excuse before then Jesse: You need to know Jesse: this course is how many years Jac: this part is 4 years Jesse: we ain't doing this back and forth for 4 fucking years Jac: come on Jac: I'm not forcing you to talk to me about it Jesse: you Jesse: will they, won't they is played out Jac: fuck off Jac: this isn't a tv trope it's my life Jesse: I know Jac: then quit being a dick about it Jesse: sorry Jac: it's alright Jac: let's forget it and I won't bring it up again Jesse: bollocks to that Jac: I ain't gonna resolve this any time soon, Jess Jac: unless she does which is as unlikely, I reckon Jesse: I'm going nowhere Jac: 👍 Jesse: thrilled, yeah? Jac: resigned to not getting rid, more like Jac: but sure Jesse: I reckon she might Jesse: you can have that be thrilled about Jac: [the bit about forever and not wanting to lose her] Jac: unless she straight up chats the opposite when she's pissed Jac: or I fuck it all up majorly, I know, like Jesse: 💕 Jesse: the ✨ make loads more sense now Jesse: she's gayer than you Jac: 😏 Jac: or less emotionally stunted Jac: but I'll take it Jesse: can't all inherit the poet's soul Jac: 💔 Jac: really, so devastated Jesse: sounds like Jac: if Jame starts writing poetry for his girlfriend, you have to send it to me so I can critique it Jesse: pay me to do it for him if he's got any sense Jac: you're not such a starving artist that you need to scam our little brother like that Jesse: no scam Jac: debatable Jesse: piss off Jac: ❤ Jesse: do one for you if you don't overspend at the club Jac: she don't like you, I been said Jac: she'll feel the 🤢 rising at your style Jesse: don't like her either Jesse: don't matter Jac: you're so rude Jesse: 💔 Jac: why not Jesse: why would I? Jac: there's nothing not to like Jesse: 1st I heard of her, she fucked you up Jesse: there's that Jac: it weren't her fault though Jac: it was just about her Jesse: how she handled it were her fault Jac: I don't think we can police that Jac: I certainly can't Jesse: like you said, didn't come out of nowhere Jac: if we go down the 'she led me on' path, we ain't ending up nowhere good Jesse: Alright Jac: just have no opinion Jesse: bit rude Jesse: but I get what you're saying Jac: blank slate, would be a better way to put it Jesse: 👍 Jac: I already said I'd sleep over tonight though Jesse: get out of it Jesse: you're 🤢🤮 or something Jac: in the head? Jac: obvs Jesse: well yeah Jesse: but like you're a lightweight Jesse: she ain't been drunk with you for ages either Jac: we planned this one last night too Jac: she's serially monogamous Jac: you don't think she's gonna wanna take a random home? Jac: she's not like that Jesse: you can't go home with her so she don't take a lad back instead Jac: that's not why Jac: that's what you think though Jesse: I think you need to stop sleeping together Jesse: I said Jac: but why Jesse: you don't spoon your mates Jesse: or watch 'em sleep Jac: so I'm a creep Jac: fine Jac: I'll go home Jesse: So she can't use you as a stand in boyfriend Jac: stop it Jesse: either she wants to be mates and she can't do none of that with you or she wants to be your girlfriend and she needs to let you know Jac: who says? Jac: we can do it if we want to Jesse: go on then, crack on Jesse: nowt can go wrong Jac: I'll decide for myself Jac: you don't need to tell me, you can't tell me anything I don't know Jesse: she'll decide for you Jesse: like before Jac: Whatever Jac: I'm going to carry on with my night now Jesse: Jac Jac: I'll talk to you later Jesse: just steady on Jesse: you know her, I don't Jesse: might be talking bollocks, probably am Jac: you don't need to go back on it Jac: I don't care Jesse: it don't sit right how quick and easy she's back where she were, that's what I was trying to say Jac: Okay Jac: I've heard you Jesse: it don't mean it'll go how it did before Jac: maybe it will Jac: I can't do anything about it Jesse: keep your guard up for a bit Jac: yeah Jesse: if I sound like I'm the one going back and forth on this, I am Jac: I'm powerless to it whatever Jac: there's no winning or outrunning or playing it cool or whatever the fuck you could suggest Jac: it's happening and it'll play out how it's going to Jac: it's fate Jesse: but 👎 from me that I'm powerless an' all Jesse: that's shit Jac: you'll live Jesse: will you? Jac: don't be a drama queen Jesse: or what? Jac: ❌🚫 you Jesse: reckon I'll live Jac: yeah right Jac: you live for this bullshit, clearly Jesse: 🖕 Jac: later loser Jesse: 👌

[iamanartichoke]

Oh man.. I went to see endgame again and I want to like Thor in this movie I really do and am worried I'm a bad person for not but like, the tone feels all over the place with him, like the tragedy undercuts the humour but then the humour disrespects the tragedy. I can't get my head around this creative decision. What do you think?

First of all, you’re not a bad person for not liking Thor in this film. The negative reaction to how Thor is portrayed is pretty widespread, especially on Tumblr, and a lot of people share your opinion that his character was handled poorly. 

I ... *sighs* Here’s the thing. My immediate/general reaction was something like being stunned and second-hand embarrassed for Thor and really upset at the portrayal, because it really, really does feel like the narrative is framing Thor’s very real PTSD as a joke. Playing it up for laughs when there’s nothing funny about that level of loss and grief. 

I felt it was disrespectful, that it undermined not only Thor but those of us who suffer from mental illness and have unhealthy coping mechanisms. I felt like depression was being made fun of, like trauma was being made fun of, like weight gain/generally showing how far a person can sink into depression where they can’t take care of themselves was being made fun of. Furthermore, I have been especially furious that despite his trauma, Thor didn’t mention Loki even once, even when acknowledging literally everything else he’s lost besides Loki (family, Asgard, Jane). 

But. 

Everyone knows, because I have been obsessing about it for days, that I’ve discovered some really, really good during/post-Endgame Thor fic. Fic that manages to strike the balance between what we saw on-screen and what’s going on in Thor’s head. I have found fic that somehow manages to reconcile the two, showing how deep Thor’s trauma runs while still being consistent to what was portrayed on-screen. 

And in finding myself not only empathizing with Fic!Thor, but also feeling very protective of him and generally loving toward him, it also made me admit to myself that, when I watched Endgame, it was like two days before the release and I was watching a really shitty cam rip, where I missed 75% of what was really happening, due to poor sound and visual quality. 

So, tonight, I went back and rewatched it. Not in the theatre but I found a better cam version on Putlocker, with much better sound and video. I tried to be open-minded. And I had no idea how much I missed, when it came to Thor’s microexpressions and mannerisms and even what he was saying half the time. Watching it in better quality along with having the fics in my head has kind of ... brought me to an understanding of it, I think? In a way that I’m no longer furious about it, because I can sort of get behind the creative decision to show Thor just completely deteriorating and becoming something like an entirely different person than what he’s been before. Because mental illness and trauma do do that to a person. And I do think that it was a bold, but not necessarily a wrong, decision to go the opposite way in portraying the illness than what is usually shown in media. Usually, in films and tv, traumatized, depressed people are portrayed as stoic, and usually really thin, and scowly and brooding.

Thor in Endgame as a concept is taking that expectation and subverting it and showing the other end of the spectrum: that sometimes you are smiling and joking even though it’s an act, that you’re laughing on the outside while a weight is pressing down on you on the inside, that drinking to excess can cause weight gain, that eating as a coping mechanism can cause weight gain, that not caring about life can mean not caring about yourself and you don’t necessarily notice that it’s been a week since you washed your hair and two years since you cut it and what does it matter anyway, because you’re not going anywhere or doing anything or trying to impress anybody, you’re just putting one foot in front of the other and trying to make it through day by day until the universe finally decides to take pity on you and you die. 

And I get that, because I’ve been there, because a lot of people have been there, because it’s a very real, uncomfortable, visceral portrayal of someone who has just completely broken down - mentally, physically, emotionally. 

That all said - I understand the intention better now than I did before, but I do think that it fell flat. Instead of really delving into these things, the narrative played it like we were supposed to laugh at Thor. Not a single person, except for Bruce, asked Thor if he was okay. No one acknowledged that Thor might not be up for this mission. No one acknowledged that even if the snap was reversed, Thor will still have lost everything and he doesn’t get anything back. 

Thor is very visibly breaking down, and the others just roll with it. Worse, they make fun of him, what with the way they look at him and the way they act toward him and Rhodey’s stupid “cheeze whiz” joke. The narrative supports this view, especially with camera shots that emphasize Thor’s weight and general disheveled appearance. And the version I watched today was still filmed in a theatre, so I was able to hear all the places where the audience just laughed, even when Thor was obviously in pain and obviously needed sympathy rather than mockery. It smacks of fat shaming and general mental health shaming. And that’s not okay. 

I feel ... more generous toward Chris Hemsworth’s performance than I did before. On a second, closer viewing, I do think that his facial expressions and his delivery of his lines did show someone who was in deep pain, especially when it came to Thanos specifically (his change in demeanor when Bruce says his name, the way he begs to wear the gauntlet and “do something right,” the way he approaches Thanos in the final battle, among other moments). 

I also think, though, that Chris may have gotten too into the comedic aspect of it, too, and that probably contributed to Thor in general being played for laughs. Because Chris likes to laugh, and have fun, and screw around, and he’s said so himself. I think if Chris had a better understanding of mental illness than I assume he does, he might have been more willing to delve further into the emotional side and relied less on the comedic side. And if Chris wasn’t so anti-Loki, then I think we would have had a lot more acknowledgement of how much Loki’s death has contributed to Thor’s grief and mental state. 

Idk. It could have been better. The fics are better. But at the same time, I do get it now more than I did before. I’m not really crediting the Russos with that, bc they’re trash, but I do give Chris Hemsworth and his acting more credit than I did. And honestly, I give the fic writers credit bc reading them forced me to consider my point of view and whether or not I was looking at Thor too critically due to my general hatred of everything the Russos touch. 

So, yeah. Overall, it’s ... a complicated thing. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with it, but I’m not so anti it either, anymore. If that makes sense. 

I didn’t mean to write you a dissertation, Anon, so I’m sorry for the length. This has actually been on my mind for several days, though, so I kind of hopped on this ask and took it as an opportunity to write all of this out. I hope it makes sense. I hope people can understand where I’m coming from. And even if you can’t, please don’t @ me, I’m very tired. 

Anyway. Yeah. So that’s what I think. I hope this somewhat answered the question. XDD