#it was taken in secret and edited by April herself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frontproofmedia · 11 months

Text

How Michelle Khare Took on the Challenge of Boxing and Succeeded

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

By Hector Franco

Follow @MrHector_Franco !function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs'); Follow @Frontproofmedia!function(d,s,id){var js,fjs=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0],p=/^http:/.test(d.location)?'http':'https';if(!d.getElementById(id))(document, 'script', 'twitter-wjs');

Published: June 01, 2023

YouTube sensation Michelle Khare faced off against champion chess player Andrea Botez at Creator Clash 2 on April 15 in Tampa, FL, in front of a loud and boisterous crowd

Awaiting in the locker room as the drum of the crowd grew increasingly louder similar to a heartbeat getting closer and closer, was Michelle Khare, waiting to step through the ropes to take on her opponent Andrea Botez.

For those who don't know or aren't aware of Khare, they may know her sooner than later. Not only is she one of the most well-known content creators with more than 3.7 million subscribers on YouTube, but she isn't what you would call your typical creator.

Best known for her YouTube series Challenge Accepted, Khare has taken on numerous challenges that range from Navy Seal training, U.S. Marine Corps boot camp, NASA Astronaut training, 911 operator, and even running a marathon in the hottest place on earth, the Mojave Desert in Desert Valley, CA.

Needless to say, she has put in the work that a 20x20 squared circle may not be as frightening to her as most people.

But, there is the age-old adage of 'you don't play boxing.'

Stepping into the ring in front of a vast audience that is hanging on to every punch is a different world. The Creator Clash is an influencer boxing event started by Ian "iDubbz" Washburn that raises money for charities and puts content creators inside the ring against each other in boxing matches. No, these aren't professionals, but the punches and the pressure are very real. The second edition took place on April 15th in Tampa, FL, at the home of the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Amalie Arena.

It isn't surprising that Khare decided to take on the challenge of boxing, but the question is why?

"Ever since I heard about Creator Clash 1 and saw the success of it, I was really excited about the opportunity and possibility of potentially being in the second one," Khare said in an exclusive interview with Frontproof Media. "It's no secret that the first one was such a massive success raising over seven figures for charity, and it seemed just like a fantastic event.

"I appreciated that it had a different tone from a lot of the other influencer boxing events that I've seen, at least. It provided a unique tone of support and encouragement, and those are all things in addition to the charities that I stand by, and I wanted to be part of it."

Part of what makes Creator Clash unique is the live experience. There are numerous examples of boxing events where the audience drags themselves in reluctantly for the undercard—with the arena only filled up before the main event starts. This wasn't the case at either Creator Clash show, as the crowd seemed to become more energized as the night went on.

"The walkout in and of itself was crazy," stated Khare." When you step out there, and you just hear the crowd for the first time and truly absorb, 'I'm going to battle.' It's an actual reality. It's pretty nuts."

Differentiating herself from the other influencers on the card, Khare's experience through her YouTube series has put her in a variety of situations; however, before stepping into the world of content creation, she was a professional cyclist. While attending Dartmouth College, she was a part of the Dartmouth Cycling Team and eventually joined the BMW Women's professional team.

The exposure to athletics for Khare prepared her both physically and mentally to take on the challenge of the sweet science.

Certainly, boxing is one of the more dangerous sports, as deaths due to injuries sustained in the ring occur every year. But the sport is mainly cerebral. Only those who are strong-minded can go through training camps and fights.

"Just having an athletic background of any kind, I think, will help anybody who's trying to do an influencer boxing event," Khare expressed to Frontproof Media. "I was very fortunate that I had experience knowing what it feels like to physically and mentally train for something intensely. Now, I hadn't done a boxing fight in this capacity before, but I knew what it felt like to commit fully to waking up early and putting in the hours to training.

"The roller coaster of emotions that you feel going through an experience like that-I had a small taste of what that would be like. I think where other people come into these experiences, maybe feeling those things for the first time, I at least had a little bit of experience to help guide me through it. I also knew what it would take in terms of beyond the training. The diet. The recovery and the lifestyle change that's required. It's huge."

Although boxing is typically considered to be an individual sport as a battle between two people, it's often forgotten that to get to the point of stepping into the squared circle; there is a team that guides and get's you ready. Khare may be the star and the one in front of the camera for Challenge Accepted, but behind her is a support system that assists in putting everything together. For boxing, it was no different.

Khare was able to put together an elite team that consisted of former professional boxer and 2008 Olympic bronze medalist Tony Jeffries, Kickboxing black belt and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu purple belt James Doyle, Professional MMA fighter Jo Doyle and specialized trainer Kevan Watson all out of the Box' N Burn gym in Santa Monica, CA.

"I had the huge privilege of getting to work with Tony Jeffries, who's an Olympic bronze medalist, but, for my camp, it was led by Kevin Watson and James and Jo Doyle, three incredibly talented individuals," Khare told Frontproof Media.

"The level of support and care I felt from my coaching staff was unmatched."

Out of all the bouts that took place at the second edition of Creator Clash, Khare's match with Botez was arguably the most skill-driven. While other matchups did have some memorable knockouts, none quite exhibited the sweet science quite like Khare and Botez. Part of what made this possible was the training that Khare endured leading up to her match.

Like many sports, boxing is just as much mental as physical. The training that one puts themselves through prepares one for whatever may happen once one steps through the ropes. The preparation and training are often even more strenuous than the fight itself.

"I think that the mental game was the hardest part of it," said Khare. "Mentally preparing yourself to go to battle to confront somebody.

"My regimen was a lot like everybody else's, six days a week, a couple of hours in the gym, a couple of hours of recovery. I think what was unique to my camp as well as my coaches, was that they spent a lot of time on mental games, and I think that's something we talk about a lot. Undoubtedly, you need to be mentally strong to do something like this.

Khare continued, "Something that benefited me was guided visualization of every moment of the fight from getting to the hotel, getting in the room, the shuttle's ready, and time to go to the arena. Imagine what the tunnel would look like, the sound of the crowd, and visualize the game plan for every single round in real-time. Again, people talk about meditation and visualization as a thing to do, but I didn't realize until game day how impactful that would be.

"I feel like that's something I wish I had taken more seriously and learned earlier in my athletic career because I feel like that honestly was a lot of the edge that I had."

Since the 1980s, boxing's popularity has steadily dwindled, with some rare outliers that have come few and far between.

When social media influencer and exhibition boxing bouts started to become a more frequent norm with Jake and Logan Paul entering the sport, many boxing purists found them to be disingenuous or harmful to the sport.

However, with a sport as controversial as the sweet science with numerous examples of corruption ranging from ties with organized crime and congressional hearings, new fans being introduced to boxing, no matter the skill level involved, can ultimately prove to be positive in growing a fanbase as long as it comes from a place of respect.

"Everyone who participates in influencer boxing comes from an immense place of privilege," stated Khare. "I consider myself a tourist to the sport and, in the experience, definitely a guest in the space at least. Whenever you're a guest in anybody else's house, it demands respect; it demands attention to detail. That's what I hope we achieved in the entire mission."

Navigating the sport as a female athlete can be daunting. It wasn't until the last five years, and 2022 in particular, that female boxing gained momentum and traction outside of the most hardcore boxing circles. The lack of attention and spotlight on female athletes doesn't occur just in boxing but in a majority of sports.

Khare has frequently set out to take on tasks that test stereotypes and the beliefs of who can perform certain ventures. She has the experience and recognized the issues of maneuvering through sports as a female.

"90% of the sport is figuring out how you can do the sport, and 10% is being an athlete," Khare expressed. "Especially as a female athlete, you're often left figuring out your own logistics, how you're going to get to races, and who is going to support you. It is an entirely different experience often in sports for men where there are far more resources, personnel, support, and sponsorship opportunities.

"A lot of the challenges that I take on are very male-dominated spaces. I think just my presence there is one that I hope will encourage more people who don't see themselves in certain spaces to potentially pursue occupying those places' professions and sports. I would say that the show was born out of my want to explore these things. A beautiful byproduct has been the diversity that it has brought to the forefront of mainstream media."

Although Khare came away with a victory over her opponent on the night of the Creator Clash, it didn't come without a price. During the fight, she suffered a broken nose and had to keep her composure to ensure she was still mentally prepared to finish the match.

Fortunately for her, the training she went through allowed her to endure the hurdles that came her way. She may not have expected to break her nose, but it didn't deter her experience; in fact, it may have helped enhance her overall love for the sport. Recently, Khare has added a boxing regimen and workout routine to her exercise fitness app - MK FIT.

"I did not expect to have as much fun as I did," Khare revealed to Frontproof Media. "Honestly, I found myself smiling and laughing at certain points of the entire experience, honestly, maybe because it was so insane. My body was reacting in weird ways, but I had a lot of fun. It goes without saying that I didn't go in with a game plan of getting my nose broken.

“The theme of my training camp was confident, not comfortable.

"What we meant by that was to feel confident in the training but never get comfortable. We had trained through so many obstacles in fight camp that, to me, this is where the training really kicked in.

"There were so many situations in fight camp where things inevitably don't go the way you plan in sparring or training or even recovery. I'm grateful for those obstacles because they prepared me for the biggest obstacle I faced getting my nose broken in the middle of the fight and still persevering."

Inspiration, at times, can be fleeting. It doesn't come as often as you want and can disappear in a second; it's important to capitalize when it's in front of you. And for Michelle Khare, her greatest aspirations and inspirations come from within. The idea is that the biggest challenge one can face is looking in the mirror and taking on yourself, stepping toward a goal, even when fear is holding you by the hand and whispering in your ear. To still accept that challenge of pushing yourself is what has continued to fuel Khare.

"I think that my personal objective is to live the most rich and fulfilling life I possibly can," said Khare. "I'm fortunate that through my YouTube channel, I'm able to make that my job. I'm constantly seeking the next challenge, the next opportunity to grow and experience something even greater.

"To me, the finish line for this experience was the ropes crossing into them to step into the ring. Everything else, beyond that, the actual fight itself, I'd been training for that, but that was almost like a bonus opportunity."

So the question is, what's next for Khare? What will be the next great challenge she will take on? Could fans see her step back in the ring for Creator Clash 3?

"I think ideally, if I were to do this again, I would be looking for the right matchup and the right person," stated Khare. "Whether or not people want to admit it, when you agree to fight somebody, you are collaborators in a way. Andrea and I shot our poster together. We shot our release video together, and that's part of the experience that I enjoy is creating the content and getting eyes on it in a positive way.

"I'm grateful that I went through the experience so that I have the mental and physical stamina to approach what's next with the same outlook of positivity. I just can't emphasize enough how special this experience was for me and how grateful I am to Ian and Anisa for trusting me to be a last-minute edition and to get the work done."

The latest edition of Challenge Accepted is currently available on Khare's YouTube channel, highlighting her entire experience from the most demanding days in training camp to the day of the fight.

Fans will be waiting in great anticipation to see what challenge Khare takes on next.

(Featured Photo: Joseph Correa/Frontproof Media)

#HF #Michelle Khare #Challenge Accepted

0 notes

ethrenisnotthehero · 3 years

Text

@hogwartsmystory is a predator (final)

If you haven’t read the other parts of this callout, I encourage you to start here. As in both previous posts, the normal tags are not included in order to allow this to reach as many people as possible. Potential triggers are listed below, and the main content is hidden to keep sensitive individuals from being unintentionally exposed.

TW: Pedophilia, Abuse, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Self Harm, Suicide, NSFW Topics, Faked Illness, Faked Mental Illness, Faked Death, Victim Blaming

Originally, I intended to craft this final part to you, the reader, as an emotional appeal. To be wholly honest, there’s only so much evidence that can be utilized without either forcing Jill to relive unnecessary trauma or exposing deeply intimate or personal parts of her life. Until now, everything I’ve told you and everything I’ve shown you is what was enough to convince me when Jill first reached out to me. If you, the reader, don’t believe the factual information that’s been presented so far, then I don’t think that you will. If you, the reader, believe Jill and her story, then no further evidence is going to magically make her story more true.

However, I don’t have to. Instead, I can let the friends-- the family--that Ren created on his website speak for themselves, and show you with their own testimony just the kind of person he was. Jill wasn’t the only person that Ren hurt. Jill wasn’t even the only person Ren preyed on as a sexual predator. Many people on staff, and many people outside of it, knew Ren and grew to have what they thought was a close relationship with him. People regarded him as someone to look up to, to find comfort in, to aspire after, to lean on; people thought of him as a friend and a hero in his community.

On April 12, 2021, at 9:57 AM Greenwhich Mean Time, the current administrators of Advanced Scribes issued a statement addressing Ren’s actions and his faked death. An additional announcement was made the following day. While the announcements themselves and the replies (including moderator statements) are publicly available, I have saved a print-to-PDF versions on Google for you to browse at your leisure.

I intentionally waited until the initial panic and outrage died out a little to let the most important statements come to light. Included in the PDF are sentiments that I personally thought were the most important sentiments; edits have been made and pages have been deleted, so you can see the current state of the conversations by visiting them directly. You can find the first discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42100#p1454263 and the second discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42107#p1454361.

Before you continue reading, please look over the statements and replies. The words of former staff former friends say more than I can ever hope to about Ren and the kind of reality that he stood for. Additionally, Jill herself has added to the conversation (username Rakuen), so you can read a bit from her perspective by looking into these announcements. After you’ve taken a look, continue below and I will sum up my final thoughts on this predator and his legacy.

Advanced Scribes • Our Statement (PDF)

Advanced Scribes • Change (PDF)

The Act of Grooming, Part 3: Entrapment

One of the reasons that predators get away with their crimes for so long is because they trap their victims. When they gain access to and successfully lure in their prey, they then engage in entrapment behavior to separate victims from other people and build reliance. The reason why kids are so prone to predation is because of how vulnerable they are. Young people just want to belong. They just want to have community, security, and affection. When they can’t get those things in their lives, they seek it out and take it where they can get it even when the situation is obviously bad. Kids can’t be held accountable for being smart because they’re kids. Jill was vulnerable. She wanted belonging and support. She fell into Ren’s lures, and he trapped her. He used his affection as a tool to solicit sexual favors and pictures from her, but never shared his face with her. She was always chasing his love, and all the while he was simultaneously preying on other individuals in the community. For God’s sake, this man had a selfie thread where underage girls would send pictures of themselves publicly on the site for him to look at, and he even intentionally disabled the website’s COPPA features.

Before Jill, there was Buttercup. Buttercup was also an admin, and she was also 13 when she met Ren. While Ren was a minor during he and Buttercup’s relationship, his behavior with her was just as predatory and Buttercup attempted to warn Jill via PM before she ended her relationship with him.

The picture he sent Buttercup wasn’t even him.

The entire time that Ren was convincing Jill that Buttercup was evil, and jealous, and a spiteful, hateful person, he was manipulating her the same way he was manipulating Jill. Ren is a predator who knows what he’s doing; he always has. He draws in his victims and makes everyone hate them so that he’s the only person they have. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they let him screw them over time and time again, and for what? Just to see his face. Think about what you read. He didn’t just do this to Jill and Buttercup. He did this to every person he cheated with or got close enough to get a grip on. Even if he didn’t sexually exploit someone, he emotionally did. An entire community of people suffered through this over and over and over again. Read the statements again. If you only read the live version, read the PDF.

I also want you to bear in mind that everyone on staff was equally a victim as they were an enabler. It doesn’t erase their responsibility, but their roles in this story or more nuanced than “moderator bad, burn the witch!” Some of Ren’s supporters were as young or younger than Jill when they met him. The two people most notorious for standing at his side right now were both “rewarded” with a relationship with him in the fallout of his faked death.

At some point, this man looked at his behavior and not only decided that he didn’t need to take responsibility, but that his victims daring to try and claim some kind of ownership over their own story was a personal affront to him.

Ren is a monster of his own creation. He chose to be that monster again, and again, and again.

What makes his enablers equally to blame is when they became adults and made a conscious choice to ignore what was happening, which brings us to the next topic.

Finally... How Old Was Jill?

Despite everything I’ve said and shared so far, I still get this question in my inbox.

How old was Jill? Did she lie about her age? Is she free of guilt because she was a kid? Did he know how old she was? Was she legal in her country?

I gave you all everything I had. There were some things I just couldn’t confirm because there was no proof either way. However, all of that changed when the announcements were released. I now know exactly how old Jill was when they began dating, exactly how old she was when people knew about their relationship, and even that Ren was public with all of this information. I also know that staff knew everything, and chose to do nothing.

As you can see in the screenshots above of Buttercup’s message, it was sent on Jun 17, 2015. At that time, Jill was 14 years old. By Buttercup’s estimation, they had been dating for around a few months, which is how I was able to discern the previous exact age of 14 years old at the time they began dating.

However, Ren himself refutes that fact in a Valentine’s post for Jill. As pointed out in the “Our Statement” thread, the post that user amnesia. references includes very sexual and disgustingly graphic descriptions of Ren’s activity with her. It also says this:

As per the timestamp of this particular post (as seen below), Jill was 16 at the time. Ren, a man claiming to be twenty-five years old at the time, was proud to admit that he had been with Jill since she was 13.

You can view the full PDF of this post to see what else he said here, but please be warned that his descriptions are NSFW and absolutely disgusting.

Warm Fuzzies Post (PDF)

No adult should talk about a kid like that. In the statements, several staff members admit that they knew that the two were dating when she was 16, and that it grossed them out. But none of them did anything. To amnesia.’s credit, they claim they tried to pursue legal action but found no viable routes.

From the discussions and statements, we can discern five things:

1. Jill was 13 when she started dating Ren. 2. She did not lie about her age. 3. Ren did not lie about her age. 4. Ren knew how old she was. 5. Staff knew how old she was.

Jill’s feelings and her opinions on staff and their behavior are separate from my own. She does not share my beliefs here, and I need to make it very clear that what I’m saying next is entirely my own opinion.

To everyone who was staff at that time: shame on you. It’s one thing to be a victim yourself and to not understand how or when to stand up for what’s right, especially when you’re young; it’s another to become an adult and to have let something like this permeate your legacy and your community for all this time. From what I understand, none of you are completely innocent in this. Ren wasn’t secret, he was loud and proud and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Everyone who was an adult then and is an adult now shares some responsibility for that. Those of you who mean your apologies, thank you, but those of you who are using this event as a stepping stone to make that website into your own personal playground know who you are. Stop. There’s an entire generation of kids between AS and CS who have lost years of their childhoods to this shit and the only right thing at this point would be to turn the site over to the police so that Ren can answer for his crimes the right way.

To everyone else: protect the people around you. People like Ren don’t think about how other people think or feel. They don’t care who gets hurt or who they trample under their feet. Look around at your community, and ask yourself if those who interact with you know that you are safe. Inevitably, someone is going to get hurt. Are you the kind of person that they can come to when it happens, or are you the kind of person who will turn your head away?

Be the person that everyone knows they can come to, because, eventually, someone’s going to need you.

#ethren is not the hero #ethren whitecross #ethren #chicken smoothie #chickensmoothie #harry potter #hphm #hphl #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts legacy #aaron #aaron strider #strider #advanced scribes #advanced-scribes #skyren #captured hearts #aven #lucian

82 notes · View notes

richincolor · 3 years

Photo

New Releases for the Week of April 5th

We have six titles on our release calendar for this week. There is quite a variety with fantasy, sci-fi, contemporary romance, and even nonfiction represented. Are any of them on your TBR?

The Cost of Knowing by Brittany Morris Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers

Sixteen-year-old Alex Rufus is trying his best. He tries to be the best employee he can be at the local ice cream shop; the best boyfriend he can be to his amazing girlfriend, Talia; the best protector he can be over his little brother, Isaiah. But as much as Alex tries, he often comes up short.

It’s hard to for him to be present when every time he touches an object or person, Alex sees into its future. When he touches a scoop, he has a vision of him using it to scoop ice cream. When he touches his car, he sees it years from now, totaled and underwater. When he touches Talia, he sees them at the precipice of breaking up, and that terrifies him. Alex feels these visions are a curse, distracting him, making him anxious and unable to live an ordinary life.

And when Alex touches a photo that gives him a vision of his brother’s imminent death, everything changes.

With Alex now in a race against time, death, and circumstances, he and Isaiah must grapple with their past, their future, and what it means to be a young Black man in America in the present. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Somewhere Between Bitter and Sweet Laekan Zea Kemp Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

As an aspiring pastry chef, Penelope Prado has always dreamed of opening her own pastelería next to her father’s restaurant, Nacho’s Tacos. But her mom and dad have different plans — leaving Pen to choose between disappointing her traditional Mexican-American parents or following her own path. When she confesses a secret she’s been keeping, her world is sent into a tailspin. But then she meets a cute new hire at Nacho’s who sees through her hard exterior and asks the questions she’s been too afraid to ask herself.

Xander Amaro has been searching for home since he was a little boy. For him, a job at Nacho’s is an opportunity for just that — a chance at a normal life, to settle in at his abuelo’s, and to find the father who left him behind. But when both the restaurant and Xander’s immigrant status are threatened, he will do whatever it takes to protect his new found family and himself.

Together, Pen and Xander must navigate first love and discovering where they belong — both within their families and their fiercely loyal Chicanx community — in order to save the place they all call home. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Infinity Courts (The Infinity Courts #1) by Akemi Dawn Bowman Simon Pulse

Eighteen-year-old Nami Miyamoto is certain her life is just beginning. She has a great family, just graduated high school, and is on her way to a party where her entire class is waiting for her—including, most importantly, the boy she’s been in love with for years.

The only problem? She’s murdered before she gets there.

When Nami wakes up, she learns she’s in a place called Infinity, where human consciousness goes when physical bodies die. She quickly discovers that Ophelia, a virtual assistant widely used by humans on Earth, has taken over the afterlife and is now posing as a queen, forcing humans into servitude the way she’d been forced to serve in the real world. Even worse, Ophelia is inching closer and closer to accomplishing her grand plans of eradicating human existence once and for all.

As Nami works with a team of rebels to bring down Ophelia and save the humans under her imprisonment, she is forced to reckon with her past, her future, and what it is that truly makes us human. From award-winning author Akemi Dawn Bowman comes an incisive, action-packed tale that explores big questions about technology, grief, love, and humanity. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Zara Hossain is Here by Sabina Khan Scholastic Press

Seventeen-year-old Pakistani immigrant, Zara Hossain, has been leading a fairly typical life in Corpus Christi, Texas, since her family moved there for her father to work as a pediatrician. While dealing with the Islamophobia that she faces at school, Zara has to lay low, trying not to stir up any trouble and jeopardize their family’s dependent visa status while they await their green card approval, which has been in process for almost nine years.

But one day her tormentor, star football player Tyler Benson, takes things too far, leaving a threatening note in her locker, and gets suspended. As an act of revenge against her for speaking out, Tyler and his friends vandalize Zara’s house with racist graffiti, leading to a violent crime that puts Zara’s entire future at risk. Now she must pay the ultimate price and choose between fighting to stay in the only place she’s ever called home or losing the life she loves and everyone in it.

From the author of the “heart-wrenching yet hopeful” (Samira Ahmed) novel, The Love and Lies of Rukhsana Ali, comes a timely, intimate look at what it means to be an immigrant in America today, and the endurance of hope and faith in the face of hate. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Oculta (A Forgery of Magic #2) by Maya Motayne Balzer + Bray

After joining forces to save Castallan from an ancient magical evil, Alfie and Finn haven’t seen each other in months. Alfie is finally stepping up to his role as heir and preparing for an International Peace Summit, while Finn is travelling and revelling in her newfound freedom from Ignacio.

That is, until she’s unexpectedly installed as the new leader of one of Castallan’s powerful crime families. Now one of the four Thief Lords of Castallan, she’s forced to preside over the illegal underground Oculta competition, which coincides with the summit and boasts a legendary prize.

Just when Finn finds herself back in San Cristobal, Alfie’s plans are also derailed. Los Toros, the mysterious syndicate responsible for his brother’s murder, has resurfaced—and their newest target is the summit. And when these events all unexpectedly converge, Finn and Alfie are once again forced to work together to follow the assassins’ trail and preserve Castallan’s hopes for peace with Englass.

But will they be able to stop these sinister foes before a new war threatens their kingdom? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Everything You Wanted to Know About Indians But Were Afraid to Ask: Young Readers Edition by Anton Treuer Levine Querido

From the acclaimed Ojibwe author and professor Anton Treuer comes an essential book of questions and answers for Native and non-Native young readers alike. Ranging from “Why is there such a fuss about nonnative people wearing Indian costumes for Halloween?” to “Why is it called a ‘traditional Indian fry bread taco’?” to “What’s it like for natives who don’t look native?” to “Why are Indians so often imagined rather than understood?”, and beyond, Everything You Wanted to Know About Indians But Were Afraid to Ask (Young Readers Edition) does exactly what its title says for young readers, in a style consistently thoughtful, personal, and engaging.

Updated and expanded to include:

• Dozens of New Questions and New Sections—including a social activism section that explores the Dakota Access Pipeline, racism, identity, politics, and more! • Over 50 new Photos • Adapted text for broad appeal — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

#new releases #sci-fi #fantasy #contemporary #romance #YALit

40 notes · View notes

larawinter · 3 years

Photo

you might know her as Mason Hawthorne’s mother, or the ‘teen mom’ of the Winter brood who’d once been in love with that Quinn Hawthorne. she’s the girl that after 10 years stopped trying to make a future together work. but rather than letting her be known by who she’s associated with, here’s a look into Lara herself:

with a slight revamp due to faceclaim and biography change, i felt it best to repost this with the appropriate edits. SO without further ado, here’s mama winter: my dreamer, my litany of light Miss Lara Christina Winter.

*changes to her biography are bolded

General Information

Full Name: Yua “Lara” Christina Winter

Nickname(s): Lar, LC

Gamertag/Twitch: IseeLara (a play on the word ‘icy’ in reference to her surname… and with how great she is with an SMG)

Age: 33

Date of Birth: April 13, 1987

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Tarot card: Temperance

Place of Birth: Crescent Harbor, WA

Current Residence: Crescent Harbor, WA

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Japanese

Gender: female

Sexual Orientation: bisexual

Religion: n/a

Occupation: social media manager for an esports organisation, Seattle Triumph

Faceclaim: Satomi Ishihara

Personality

Positive Traits: creative, self-sufficient, dedicated, imaginative, team-player

Negative Traits: protective, escapist, repressed, self-critical

Hobbies: jewelry-making, video games

Likes: espresso shots, hoodies, sleepy sunday mornings, movie nights, roses, hiking, horror films, video games, traveling

Dislikes: Mason driving, being without her phone, spiders, being underestimated or misunderstood, almond milk, sitting in the passenger seat, losing pens

Enneagram: Type 6

Temperament: Melancholic

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

About:

// triggers: teenage pregnancy, pregnancy, overdose, addiction, death

— ‘There is no such thing as perfection, but what matters is that you try.’ is the unofficial Winter family motto.

— Tetsuko “Tess” Matsui had married her best friend Michael Winter in a seemingly whirlwind romance back in the fall of ‘87. It’s a bit of a secret between them both, however, that Tess had been seeing someone while living in Seattle, but before she could tell him that she was pregnant, they’d been robbed and killed on the way home from work.

— Tess had subsequently birthed Lara out of wedlock, and it was sometime during that first year of her life, Tess and Michael had gotten together and married. Everyone assumes that Mike is her biological father.

— Although her birth name is ‘Yua’ the nickname ‘Lara’ was quickly adopted by the family. It wasn’t until she’d begun school that Lara realised that ‘Lara’ wasn’t her birth name.

— Grew up surrounded by siblings as her parents frequently fostered children as well as adopted and had their own (with Lara being the eldest of their children until Brandon joined their household). Despite how large the family is, they are a close knit bunch.

— She had dreams of traveling the world and having a lifetime of adventures, and you could often find her hiking or wanting to go to the beach, even making up her own worlds as she played in the backyard as a child. The dreams of traveling and adventure came to a grinding halt, however, when she fell pregnant with Quinn’s child at sixteen and became a mother by seventeen.

— Was able to finish high school on time and finished her bachelor of science in marketing in six years. Definitely has not finished paying back her student loans.

— Her life the past sixteen years has revolved around the well-being of her son, especially with Quinn in and out of rehab as he struggled with his addictions.

— As much as Quinn’s vices have affected her life and Mason’s, Lara’s always been open to and cooperative with having him present in their son’s life. However, she maintains a distant/lukewarm relationship with the father of her child.

— She considers herself the reason why she and Quinn are no longer together, because she didn’t have it in her to continue ‘trying’ after having found him when he overdosed at the age of 26. The fact that she had shown up to drop off Mason largely contributed to the decision to end things for good, breaking the cycle that she’d viewed as toxic for herself and their young son.

— She and Mason lived with her parents until she was 27, having saved enough money from her various positions in sales and administrative work to buy a decently sized (and safe) home with a backyard.

— It was at the age of 28 that she had taken a risk to apply for a position for a video game developer as they had an opening for a game design script assistant. To say that Lara fell in love with the industry would be an understatement: games and fantasy lands were one of Lara’s only ways to travel, and discovering a new work environment was, to her, like finding a new favourite candy.

— Hired as a social media manager for an eSports organisation based in Seattle at the age of 30. This job allows her to both go into the office and/or work remotely depending on the day.

— Her job is what she thinks to be the best thing that’s happened to herself and Mason, and she’s incredibly proud of where she’s been working the past few years. It’s afforded them the ability to travel and move into a nicer/recently renovated home. Mason especially loves that he gets to go to the events with her (even abroad) and play video games more often.

— As of January 2021, due to the events that had taken place a month prior, Lara has put her foot down on reverting to pre-approved supervised visitation of their son. No word yet on when this will change.

Misc. headcanons

— Constantly glued to her phone and/or laptop because of her job, and commutes to Seattle and back most days of the week.

— Unresolved trauma is the root of her issues, so much so that she’s somewhat lost her sense of ‘self’ as her focus shifted from herself to doing everything/anything for Mason at a young age.

— She essentially has a streamer/content-creator’s set up at home consisting of a powerful PC + 3 monitors. On any given night you can find her playing Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War or Escape from Tarkov, and maybe streaming as she monitors Twitch streams/Discords of those signed to her eSports org for clips to post on the social accounts. She’s planning on giving Mason a dual monitor setup for Christmas as most gaming now happens on PC (but he did get the PS5 as a late birthday present).

— Athleisure and hoodies/sweatshirts only. She’s been mistaken as Mason’s cousin/sister because of the informal way she dresses on top of her youthful appearance, which is mainly due to the casual setting of her workplace (being gifted merchandise with every merch drop) and one of her sisters being an aesthetician who reminds her to keep up with her skincare.

— Roses are her favourite flowers.

— Although she doesn’t particularly like to drink or even use over-the-counter medications, every so often she does enjoy a glass of sweet wine or mead.

— Keeps/updates a photo collage in her bedroom of all the places she and Mason have travelled to as well as photo albums.

— Only recently has she picked up the hobby of metalworking, more specifically jewelry-making. There aren’t too many days off with her position, but every now and again she’ll find time to tinker around with some gold or silver to make some jewelry for herself.

#crescent:intro #— laracwinter. intro

6 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1195

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.

... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((

... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.

... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.

... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.

... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.

... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.

... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.

... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.

... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.

... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.

... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.

... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.

... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.

... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.

... knows you the best? My two best friends.

... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.

... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.

... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.

... is the most organised that you know? My mom.

... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.

... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.

... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.

... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.

... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.

... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.

...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.

...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.

...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.

...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.

... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.

... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.

...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.

...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.

...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.

...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.

...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.

...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.

...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.

...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.

...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.

...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.

...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.

:: What ::

Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.

Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.

Is your birthday? April 21.

Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.

Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.

Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.

Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.

Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.

Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.

Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.

Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.

Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.

Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.

Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.

Are your initials? RC.

Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.

Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.

Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.

Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.

Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.

Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.

Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.

Subject were you good at in school? History.

Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.

Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.

Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.

TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.

Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.

Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.

Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.

Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.

Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.

Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.

Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.

Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.

Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.

Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.

Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.

Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/

Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.

:: Where ::

Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.

Were you born? Manila.

Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.

Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.

Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.

Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.

Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.

Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.

Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.

Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.

Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.

Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.

Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.

Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.

Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.

Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.

Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.

Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.

Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.

Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.

Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.

:: When ::

...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.

...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.

...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.

...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.

...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.

...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.

...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.

...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.

...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.

...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.

...did you last watch a movie? September.

...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.

...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.

...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.

...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.

...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.

...did you last have a sick day? May last year.

...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.

...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.

...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.

...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have? Two.

Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.

Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.

Well can you cook? I can’t at all.

Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.

Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.

Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.

Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!

Serious are you about your career goals? Very.

Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.

Many bedrooms in your house? 4.

Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.

Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.

Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.

Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset.

Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.

Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.

Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.

Musical are you (1-10): 0.

Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.

Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.

Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha

Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:

Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.

Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.

Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.

Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.

Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.

Often do you paint your nails? Never.

Many countries have you visited? Six.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.

:: Why ::

... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.

... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.

... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.

...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.

...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.

...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.

...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^

:: If...::

You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.

You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.

You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.

You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.

You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.

You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.

You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.

:: Can ::

... you ride a bike? No, never learned.

... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.

... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.

... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.

... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.

... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.

... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver.

... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.

... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.

... your parents drive? Yep.

...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.

...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.

...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.

...you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.

Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.

Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.

Risk your life for anyone? Yes.

You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.

You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.

You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.

#survey #surveys

5 notes · View notes

pointlessresistxnce · 3 years

Text

this is my part nobody else speak - sylvie moody edition

Name: Sylvie Alexandra Moody Birthday: April 25th Age: 16 House: Ravenclaw Year: Sixth

April 25th was a joyous day, according to Katherine and Theodore Moody. Their first (and only) child was finally coming into the world, and they couldn’t wait for what life would bring to her. Sylvie Alexandra Moody was born with a head full of hair and eyes that practically shone. Was it magic? Or just her inherent ability to see the world with a fresh set of eyes? As she grew older the light drained, taken by broken promises and a future being created for her.

When Sylvie was eight, Katherine Moody was wounded on a routine ransack. The information that a rogue wizard had camoflauged themselves into the muggle world. Setting traps in houses that would wound the owners, or worse, and Katherine on the team to stop him. She was a second too late, standing in the way of a hex that wasn’t meant for her. She collapsed, and spent two weeks in St. Mungo’s before passing. Sylvie had never understood death, having never been this close to it before. All she knew is that her mother was gone, and that some man had taken her from her.

By the time she was eleven she was ready to get out of the house. Her father loved her, that was obvious. But the more she listened to him talk the more she believed he just loved the idea of her. A daughter who could follow in her mother’s footsteps and take down wizards like those that killed her mother. A daughter who will find an Auror husband and bring grandkids that will fill the Ministry. They wouldn’t have the Moody name, but they would have the Moody blood. And that was good enough, right? Her father spent her early years teaching her defensive spells. Of course, she had to wait until she could get a wand to truly practice them, but she could list practically every one created by the time she was eight. It was tiring. She felt more like a colleague than a daughter.

Hogwarts brought freedom. Classes beyond learning how to fight and how to win. Care of Magical Creatures quickly became her safe haven. It was fascinating, all these creatures live in the same world as her and yet, she rarely ever saw them. Her father didn’t take kind to that. When she was fourteen Theodore sat her down and told her she would spend her breaks dueling him. Figuring out her weaknesses and making them strong. Reading book after book about Aurors. The same thing, day after day after day. Two weeks before her fourth year of school she locked herself in her room, ignoring her father’s requests and only going down for food once she was certain he was asleep.

It hurt. A small voice in the back of her mind was telling her that she was overreacting. Her father was just trying to pass on his knowledge. Keep her safe. But instead it felt more like he was moulding her into a fighter. A soldier to a battle she didn’t want any part of. She felt like those around her were just her friends because of who her family was. Wanting to know the secrets of becoming an Auror and gaining fame for catching the worst of wizards.

With the looming darkness, Sylvie was starting to feel guilty. Her father had done all this preparation for a moment just like this, and she had blown it off. Become frustrated with the one person in the world who was truly trying to protect her. It has created a paradox inside her that she just didn’t know how to fix. Headcanons: - Sylvie is tired of the Moody name. Generations of Aurors fill the family tree and she wants out. She’s found herself inclined towards magical creatures. Hipogryffs and Occamies being her biggest interest. She can regularly be found with Scamander’s Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them tucked under her arm. Sylvie is happiest when doing two things: Taking care of creatures and learning new defensive spells. - Yes, she’s sick of being pushed down the line towards becoming an Auror, but she’s also sick of people thinking they have the right to harm others. Sylvie is commonly perfecting defensive spells while also offering younger students aid whenever needed. It gives her a sense of purpose. A way to show her parents that there is more to being a Moody than working for the Ministry. - Not to forget, she thinks the MInistry is absolutely corrupt. Years of having to dress in her finest clothes and smile for people who don’t remember her name has given her insights to a system she never wants to join. - The only thing that she keeps with any familial sentiment was a hair pin given to her by her mother’s grandmother. The tiny butterfly on the end a dazzling turqoise that has yet to lose it’s shine. She never wears it, but keeps it by her bedside. - Her older cousin Alastor Moody is the bane of her existence. It’s not that she dislikes him, it’s just that she knows he is practically perfect to their family members when it comes to the future. She tries not to have many conversations with him in the hallways of Hogwarts. - The beginning of her education she was as energetic and bubbly as you could imagine, but as the years passed she became more secluded. Sticking to a smaller group of people that she could trust. That wouldn’t try and morph her into something she isn’t. Joining the Order was a decision that pulled at her insides for weeks. She was terrified, but she knew she could help them more as a part of the group than from the outside. The years of extra drills from her father finally coming in handy.

#abintro #hello yet another novel from yours truly <3 #sm #tried to add a gif it didnt work :(#intro

4 notes · View notes

eeveevie · 4 years

Text

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (7/18)

Chapter 7: Romantic as a Pair of Handcuffs

It has been a busy month for the Valentine Detective Agency—Madelyn, Nick and Piper regroup to go over all the evidence in the case against Eddie Winter. Marty Bulfinch arrives with a lead and an invitation to an event perfect for “Charmer” and Deacon. After having her partnership with the Railroad spy questioned a second time by Piper, Madelyn confides in the most unlikely of people. Later, at the Third Rail, it’s showtime for two undercover agents.

“Well, you’re about as romantic as a pair of handcuffs.” - Debby Marsh as played by Gloria Grahame (The Big Heat, 1953)

[read on Ao3] x [chapter masterpost]

April 8th, 1958

The first signs of spring arrived in Boston not a moment too soon, alleviating the city from a harsh winter—weather wise, at least. Piper couldn’t resist using the change in seasons as a clever headline for the latest edition of Publick Occurrences— “Winter is over, but Eddie Winter isn’t.” It had been a busy month for the mob boss, who had all but taken control of all the major crime families in the city. With the exception of a few holdouts, his men had wormed their way across the criminal underground and begun to infiltrate once reputable businesses. Nowhere in Boston was safe.

Madelyn had kept herself just as occupied, juggling her work with the agency and the Railroad. Most days she would investigate leads with Nick, tracking down the necessary proof to pin Winter for his crimes. In her spare time she was partnered up with Deacon, fielding the work from Desdemona or Doctor Carrington, and the few odd job from Tinker Tom (maybe odd was putting it lightly). The two had caught a break and made contact with a surviving safehouse—Randolph—and worked to bring them back into the fold, strengthening the organization numbers. It was still slow going as the data from the Switchboard was decrypted, but she was glad to have given the group—and Deacon—a second chance.

Meanwhile, the agency had been successful in collecting the evidence that had been disappearing from police custody through their own unscrupulous means—but if there was sabotage within the precincts, their options were extremely limited. MacCready’s lead on recordings had so far been a dead end, as promising as it sounded. Nick had followed up on the rumor with his old friend Marty Bulfinch at Precinct 8 but finding physical proof of Eddie Winter’s crimes was like trying to capture lightning in a bottle. Winter’s corruption had spread through the entire government—from law enforcement to the mayor’s office—with anyone from beat cops to prosecutors offered bribes. Nobody could be trusted.

Madelyn was carefully inspecting the handwriting of a newly obtained letter, comparing the messy scrawl to the copies on hand, trying to determine if the note MacCready snatched off a drunken police detective belonged to their set. She read over the lines of text again, wishing that more than a few words in a sentence were intelligible. The most she could make out were the words sir, head, and artist. Whatever that meant. At least she could say the scribbles belonged to the same hand who wrote the other letters. Even though none had been signed, there was enough inference to say Eddie Winter had penned them all.

“He’s done it again!”

A Boston Bugle newspaper slammed down right atop of Madelyn’s work, causing her to snap up in alarm. Nick was fuming, pacing in front of her desk as a waft of cigarette smoke trailed behind his head like a halo. This wasn’t a surprising mood to find him in as of late—as they ramped up their investigation, the detective had become more stressed than ever, bordering on manic—relentless in his endeavor to stop Eddie Winter’s takeover of Boston. Late nights in the office had left his jaw shadowed, in need of a shave, and his light green eyes were dull with sleep deprivation.

Madelyn glanced down to read over the newspaper print, frowning when she saw the bolded typeface—Boston mob leader Ron Trevio found dead. Nick paused in his footsteps and approached, reaching down to tap his finger against the article in question.

“What they don’t say is that Winter had him assassinated,” he muttered, reaching up to grab at the nearly burnt out cigarette. Madelyn scooted the ashtray she kept in her office specifically for him closer so he could snuff the smoke out. “Whoever he got to do the job blew his head clean right off, destroying the bullet in the process.”

She grimaced at the thought, swallowing down the sickly feeling that crept up her throat. Not that she doubted Nick, but she questioned what made him so confident. Trevio was a mid-level player on the mob-scene but had stayed out of Winter’s way—rumor was that he was even making plans to head east to New York. For him to wind up dead and deposed of in such a gruesome way seemed unbefitting of even Eddie Winter.

“Are you sure?” Madelyn asked, watching as Nick ran a hand through his dark hair, distraught. “We both know he’s unhinged but this…this seems brazen.”

Her partner gestured to the newspaper again. “He knows he can get away with it. He has this entire city in his palm, and this is a warning to anyone who dares to go against him.”

She considered his words, wondering if he had thought about what Eddie Winter would do if he knew about the depth of their investigation. It was likely no secret to the crime-family organization that the Valentine Detective Agency was after them, but Nick had always been considered a joke to the city—something that used to bring him shame, he was now using to his advantage to keep their work under wraps. Still, Madelyn was on edge. If Winter and his men knew how much they had discovered, how close they were to finding a smoking gun, her and Nick were as sure as dead.

“Hey doll,” her partner called her from her thoughts, and she flicked her gaze up to meet his eyes. “You alright?”

This was what she signed up for, wasn’t it? When she first came to the agency all those years ago, he didn’t just need a legal assistant, but somebody who would help him in the pursuit of justice. After Nate’s death, she wound up relying on him for similar reasons. Nick was more than her partner, but her friend and somebody she trusted with her life. She was more than ready to see the Eddie Winter case to the very end with him, even if it killed her.

She put forth a smile. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”

Before Nick could protest, quick footsteps echoed though the lobby and the two could hear Ellie correcting their guest to the right office.

“Oh so we’re in here for a change,” Piper joked sarcastically, taking a second glance at Madelyn’s name on the door before entering. She had a copy of the Boston Bugle and her own newspaper tucked under her arm, her bright red coat thrown over the other. As she threw herself into one of the cushioned armchairs, she let out a large sigh. “You saw the news?”

“Yes,” Nick and Madelyn answered simultaneously.

Piper regarded them both, grumbling under her breath. She tossed the papers haphazardly towards the desk, and Madelyn had to fumble to catch the copy of Publick Occurrences. The front page lacked any information on the Trevio murder, instead focusing on Mayor McDonough and his finances—sources were able to track donations to the McDonough reelection campaign back to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology—

“This wasn’t the first time a murder has occurred and we’re the last to hear about it,” she sneered, interrupting Madelyn’s reading. “Talk about a media cover-up. Police corruption is one thing, but now Winter is messing with the freedom of the press!”

Nick choked over a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Of course they’d have a mole at the Bugle. Control the flow of information to the public. Spread fear through lies.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Madelyn warned, reading over her friend’s newspaper again.

Ever since the agency had begun collecting hard evidence against Eddie Winter, Piper had been itching to blow the whistle, promising to site the two as anonymous sources. As convincing as she made it sound, and as safe as her previous unidentified informants remained, Nick vehemently denied her request. The agency and Publick Occurrences were cut from the same cloth, and it wasn’t because they shared the same building. If Piper shared any information, she’d be painting a target on her back too.

“I know Blue, I know,” she relented, looking more defeated than before. “We’re so close.”

Nick nodded, pulling a new cigarette from the pack in the breast pocket of his shirt. “We are,” he nodded towards Madelyn as he flicked at his lighter. “Let’s go over the list again.”

She shuffled through the small pile on her desk until she found her steno notebook, lined with the details of the case. With a pen, she started at the top, suppressing the memories the name conjured. “Johnny Montrano, Jr.”

Nick and Piper nodded in agreement that they could still find a way to pin Montrano’s murder on Winter, even without a witness. Based on the information she had learned from Henry, the casefile and street rumors, they could corroborate that Eddie’s old hitman Robert Cooper had been hired for the job.

“Mac said Winter’s boys have been trying to keep that one quiet from Johnny’s pop,” Piper quipped. “Maybe he’s afraid of somebody after all.”

Madelyn shrugged, continuing down the list. “Arlington Green three,” she paused. The bodies had been discovered in the sand-trap just before Thanksgiving while Eddie Winter was still incarcerated at Cedar Junction. “Doesn’t Boston P.D. want to pin this on one of the O’Malley brothers?”

“Doesn’t mean the order wasn’t given down the chain of command,” Nick said, tapping his smoke over the ashtray. “Did they ever identify the victims?”

She solemnly shook her head. “The theory is they were low-level members of the Irish crime families.”

“They also could’ve been innocent bystanders for all we know,” Piper argued. She waved her hand, encouraging Madelyn to read on.

“Arthur Black,” she spoke. “Murdered a waiter in Winter’s presence. His girlfriend was there too.”

“Claire Pozinski, what a piece of work,” Nick scoffed. “What she sees in him—”

“Money, probably,” Piper interjected. “That, or she’s got a few screws lose in the head.”

“That’s besides the point,” Madelyn brought them to attention, dragging her unclicked pen down the paper. “Black was found dead, multiple stab wounds outside one of Winter’s clubs.”

“He was a liability. Leaving him out in the open was a warning to the others,” Nick reminded, harkening her back to their earlier conversation.

She nodded, blood running cold at the next item. “Danvers.”

None of them said a word, silently nodding in agreement. Just over Christmas, right after Eddie Winter had been released from prison, there had been a shooting in a speakeasy in the small town north of Boston. Two rival gangs had encroached on neutral territory and it didn’t take long for guns to go blazing. When the dust settled, each side had their fair share of casualties, but civilians had also perished. The prevailing rumor was that Winter had sparked the confrontation, sending his men to provoke the fight. Police had closed the investigation with all responsible parties arrested, even if their leaders still walked the streets.

“Alice Lansky,” Madelyn voiced after a moment of silence. “The missing safety inspector that was found…” she shook her head, unable to form the words. The poor woman had been stuffed into a barrel, remained dissolved in hydrochloric acid. Out of all of the victims linked back to Eddie Winter’s crime family, her death had been the most grotesque.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around why they needed to off a safety inspector,” Nick mused, rubbing at the stubble along his jaw. “How does she fit into this?”

“Maybe she stumbled across something she wasn’t meant to see,” Piper suggested, lips falling into a straight line the moment she said the words. As if Madelyn hadn’t already been worried about meeting an untimely end at the hands of Winter’s men, now she was imagining being crammed into a metal barrel, never to be discovered again. She did her best to hide the shiver that ran down her spine.

“Other than the numerous unexplained disappearances, robberies and drug running that have been occurring,” Madelyn sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “That’s what we have so far.”

“I know we’ve been over this before but,” Piper started. “Are you sure there isn’t anybody you trust within Boston P.D. with this information? Other than Marty, that is.”

Nick smiled, shaking his head. “You must think I’m real thick if you believe I trust that snake in a blue suit, Piper.”

The reporter laughed along with him, though Madelyn held back her amusement as she noticed Ellie leading a guest towards the open office door. She straightened in her seat. “Speak of the devil.”

Marty Bulfinch stood in the doorway with a sly grin, hands poised midair as he surveyed the room. He looked disheveled as always—even the expensive, navy pinstriped suit he wore didn’t do much to hide his less-desirable features. “Nicky, you talking trash in here?”

“You can’t walk around Boston with ducks on your ties and expect people not to say something, Marty,” Nick joked, deflecting what they had been actually been speaking about masterfully.

The other man rubbed at his necktie self-consciously. “Hey now, the other guys think its hilarious.”

Madelyn grimaced, wondering when, or how Nick would’ve ever been friends with such a slimeball. Even if her partner kept him on a short leash, she had her doubts about having the police detective as an informant—it was too risky, for all parties involved.

“What brings you here, Mr. Bulfinch?” she finally questioned, motioning for him to sit in the other armchair. Madelyn knew that her politeness always seemed to unnerve him and fairly quickly his expression shifted, eyes fixating on her as he moved from the doorway to the empty seat. He looked like a nervous child, come to the principal’s office for a punishment—that is, until he flicked his gaze back to Nick.

“You know those recordings you’ve been asking about?” he said, hand disappearing into his jacket pocket before revealing a holotape—technology only used by police, the government and a few lucky hospitals—the others in the office were taken aback by its appearance. “Now, I couldn’t well smuggle a holotape reader out of the office, but, I have it on good authority that this tape has Winter’s voice on it. With some self-incriminating information.”

“You don’t know what it says?” Piper asked directly. “Is there a transcript?”

Marty glared at her, tired eyes unblinking. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” he slowly handed it over to Nick, who carefully inspected the foreign piece of data in his palm before passing it over to Madelyn. Marty shifted in his seat. “You’ll have to find your own way to listen to it.”

She had her own ideas, thinking about all of the various gadgets and inventions Tinker Tom had built and tucked away beneath the Old North Church. Of course, she wasn’t about to make the suggestion in front of their guest—for all he knew, the Railroad was a fairytale.

“I also have a lead on where ol’ Eddie might strike next,” Marty continued, fidgeting with his tie again. “Tensions between Winter and Skinny Malone have reached a fever pitch and he’s ready to have him offed.”

“That frosty, huh?” Piper chimed in, eyeing the rest of the room’s occupants. “Last we heard, Winter was allowing Skinny and his Triggermen to operate the speakeasies downtown, as long as they got a cut.”

“Skinny Malone doesn’t want to share anymore,” Marty explained, flatly. “And that made Eddie flip his lid.”

“Any idea on when the hit is supposed to take place?” Nick asked, extinguishing his cigarette. He leaned against the front of the desk, staring his former partner down. “The whole scene has been brimming with activity lately, it could be any day now.”

Marty nodded in agreement. “Skinny Malone is throwing a bash at his joint this Friday to celebrate his broad’s birthday,” he tilted his head side-to-side. “Ya’ know, the Third Rail? It’s been pulling in customers from Scollay Square ever since it opened.”

“That has Eddie Winter written all over it,” Piper remarked, leaning forward eagerly. “There’s no way he’ll make an appearance himself, though, right?”

“I doubt it,” Nick grumbled, considering the information. “Is Boston P.D. working on this? Are they going put Skinny Malone into protective services?”

Marty shrugged. “A few of us are being sent to the Third Rail undercover just in case we have to intercept,” he explained. “That’s when the offer will be made. We don’t expect Malone to come in quietly unless he feels his life is truly in danger.”

“Speaking of,” the investigator spoke, pointing to Nick. “Say the word and I can get you on the short list and inside that club.”

Nick was dumbfounded by the offer for a split second before smirking. “Undercover work isn’t really my schtick, Marty,” he said, raising his right hand to emphasize the prosthetic he wore. “Kind of hard to blend in. And don’t get me wrong but working with a precinct of cops that already hate me seems…risky.”

“I could always fill your shoes,” Piper grinned, fanning her fingers through her hair. Almost immediately the others were shaking their heads.

Madelyn softly chuckled at her friend. “Everybody in town knows about Public Occurrences, Piper. Even if you dyed your hair blonde and wore Nick’s trench-coat, you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

The reporter slumped, defeated. That’s when Marty reluctantly flicked his gaze to where Madelyn was sitting behind the desk. He cleared his throat. “What about the dame?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, irritated that he was still going on about calling her that. “Madelyn?” When he realized what Marty was implying, he made to argue. “Marty, if you think for a second I’m sending Madelyn in with the wolves, you’re outta your damn mind!”

The danger was very real, and while Nick had every right to be upset and defensive, she couldn’t help but feel offended. It brought her back to that night in the agency, after the destruction of Ticonderoga, when he and Deacon almost came to blows. If the last month proved anything, she did her best work not cooped up in the office or behind a desk, but in action.

“Nick,” she said his name calmly, gaining his attention. The moment he met her gaze, he knew she had made up her mind. But she could ease his worries, if only slightly. “I don’t have to go alone.”

Piper caught on to what she was inferring immediately, a disgruntled expression pulling at her lips as she sank further into her armchair. Nick remained stoic, but eventually relented as he nodded, looking back to Marty.

“You can get her in?” he asked. “Plus one?”

The Boston police detective looked unsure, meeting her gaze for a long moment. “Uh, sure,” he mumbled, before quirking his mouth up in a smile. “You better come with one hell of a disguise, ya dame.”

Madelyn rolled her eyes, and Nick took the cue, politely gesturing to Marty that it was time for him to leave. “Come on, you oaf, you better get back to the pen before they start searching the gutters for you.”

Marty let out a hearty laugh, slapping Nick on the back as he brought him into a handshake. “Don’t be shy around the precinct, Nicky. They don’t hate you—that much.”

The three were silent as he exited the room, listening to Ellie wish him farewell.

“You’re seriously going to take whatshisname to the Third Rail?” Piper wasted no time in questioning Madelyn as soon as the agency door slammed shut.

“He has a name,” Madelyn replied with a sigh. “If I can’t take you or Nick, what’s the harm in taking Deacon? Undercover work is what he’s best at.”

“Are you sure about that?” Piper mumbled, crossing her arms.

Madelyn frowned. Her friend had been upset ever since she had first met the man and learned of the deception it took to keep the Railroad a secret. The strain hadn’t eased, even as she continued to work with the organization and as his partner. It seemed the reporter couldn’t get past the fact Deacon wasn’t willing to divulge much of the truth—at least with her.

“What do you have against him?” Madelyn asked, wanting to clear the air.

“I’m just saying Blue,” Piper’s tone softened. “You seem to trust this guy a lot, but you barely know him. How long has it been? A few months? And he’s come in here and—whew—swept you off your feet like it’s damn Roman Holiday!”

Madelyn was stunned into silence, a warmth settling in her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, or excitement at having the relationship she had with Deacon described in such a way. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how whirlwind it had been. Since their first meeting in the Memory Den, she had been chasing that feeling back and forth all through winter. There was an unspoken intimacy between the two, lingering touches and close calls where she was sure either one of them could’ve closed the gap and just kissed. And yet, there was also a silent boundary, an invisible line keeping them apart—she had always assumed it was her guilt, the weight of the wedding ring she still wore on her finger, the specter of a dead husband lingering above watching her every move—but now, she wondered if there was something more.

“I mean, what’s with the codenames?” Piper sighed. “Do you even know his real name?”

“I—” Madelyn choked on her words, at a loss. Her friend was right, and she was suddenly second-guessing every one of her emotions all over again.

Nick had been silent through the entire exchange, but finally spoke, reading her mind in the process. “Maybe Piper is right,” he mused with a little shrug. “But damnit if this isn’t the happiest I’ve seen you in months.”

Madelyn was flattered, especially when she noticed the way Nick was smiling at her, considering she knew how there was still tension between the two men whenever they happened to interact. But her chest felt heavy—the doubt had already started to creep its way in. Piper seemed ready to continue her verbal pestering when Nick sharply shook his head in warning.

“Don’t let it get to you,” he assured—a little too late. Still, Madelyn put forth a small smile and nodded. “We should plan for Friday.”

They had work to do.

The conversation with Piper and Nick continued to replay in Madelyn’s head the remainder of the day and into the evening. Even on the carbide home (on which she insisted on, so that Nick could make it home at a reasonable hour for once), her mind was clouded with conflicting emotions. She couldn’t deny that she had felt livelier, more like her true self in recent months—but didn’t want to base that happiness on lies or deception. A part of her understood it was the way the Railroad operated, outside the fringes of society where dishonesty was a necessity.

“Remember, you can’t trust everyone.”

“Even you?” she asked.

“Especially me.”

Months later, he would put an addendum to his well-spoken phrase, holding her hand as he told her he was in her corner, and always had been. As the memory came to her, all she felt was confusion. Madelyn wanted to see him, but she wasn’t sure what she would do or say, or how her feelings would shift—for better or worse? What was stopping her from acting on impulse like she had been as of late? What if Codsworth had never walked in on them that cold March evening? Would she have kissed him and sealed the deal right then? She shook her head, breaking herself free of her delusions, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to dream of what-ifs. Instead, she needed to focus on the future and what she really wanted—if only she could figure that out.

As Madelyn walked into the lobby of her apartment building, she noticed Drummer Boy at the mailboxes, sifting through various envelopes. He regarded her with a polite smile, moving to join her in the trek up the staircase.

“Have a good day at the agency?” he asked.

She sighed, trying not to sound too disgruntled. When he shot her a concerned look, she forced a smile. “It’s been very…busy. With the Winter case, that is.”

“Right,” Drummer Boy replied, letting her half-assed excuse slide. It was difficult to bluff when she was emotionally compromised, and exhausted after a long day—and hauling herself up seven flights of stairs. “I have a note for you, from Deacon.”

Madelyn swallowed down the tightness in her chest at the mention of his name. “Isn’t he in DC?”

He had been put on a special assignment by Desdemona to make contact with the southern branch—something about helping set up a new safehouse for the newfound agents and assisting with their first round of assignments. As much as Madelyn wished she could’ve joined, her obligation to the agency and the Eddie Winter investigation kept her in Boston.

Drummer Boy nodded, handing over a folded note. “I thought it was a serious correspondence, so uh,” his cheeks became red in color, which made her feel equally flustered. “I shouldn’t have read it.”

The two paused on the third story landing if only so she could scramble to read the letter, which was hardly filled with anything important, or relevant. Rather, it was incredibly lewd, and even a modern woman such as herself was turned flushed by the contents. Of course, she realized fairly quickly as the note rambled on and became more grandiose that it couldn’t possibly be real. Oddly enough, it sparked a wave of relief as she was unable to contain her laughter.

“You know he did this on purpose to get a rise out of you, right?” she chuckled, trying to give it back to Drummer Boy who waved it away, still red in the face.

“His idea of jokes sure are…elaborate,” he sighed, lifting his blue cap to run his hand through his hair. “Too much time on his hands, even hundreds of miles away.”

Madelyn regarded his words. “Do you think he’s bored?”

“No,” he answered as they continued walking up the stairs. “The opportunity to set up a new safehouse is right up Deacon’s alley. Not that he doesn’t have the experience, but to do it all on his own is a big deal.”

“He helped with HQ, right?” Madelyn clarified. She eyed Drummer Boy carefully. “After…”

He looked solemn but held back any grief. “After the Switchboard, yes.”

“Deacon’s been a big help to Dez even before the move, he does a lot more than is asked of a regular agent or heavy,” Drummer Boy mused. “You’d think he was the second in command, or the head honcho but…”

She stole another glance when he paused, seemingly in thought. “You know our history, right?”

Madelyn shrugged, taking a reprieve on the fifth story landing. “Tom once rambled off a lot of codenames to me in-between telling me how the air was going to poison me while I slept and that I needed to take the immunization shot he invented to protect myself against ‘invisible bugs’”

Drummer Boy softly laughed, nodding along. “Well, before Dez, there was Pinky Thompson. She only became leader because of a string of organizational failures under Pinky’s watch.”

“Are you suggesting that somebody might be vying for Desdemona’s position?” Madelyn questioned. “As in, Deacon?”

“No, not really,” he replied. “Deacon would never stage a coup like that. Carrington maybe, but never Deacon,” he smirked. “He’s been around…well, before my time. He was around when Wyatt and John D. ran the show, building the Railroad into the organization into what we know today.”

She found herself amused. “I always thought he was lying when he said he helped create the Railroad. Sounded too boastful, even for him.”

“Well, depending on who you believe or what you make of the records,” Drummer Boy flashed an impish grin. “Some of the agents like to think Deacon and John D. are one in the same.”

The confusion from earlier settled back into her mind, but this time, she wasn’t sure what to make of the information. This was just more conjecture—a rumor—Railroad gossip that had been passed down from agent to agent. Deacon himself had even fanned the flames, relishing in the spotlight. If anything, it only fueled the argument set forth by Piper that Madelyn truly didn’t know anything about him—about his past, about his present…about their future. Rather than anger, she felt despair—whatever had been built between them had to end, and when it did, it wasn’t going to be easy.

On the seventh floor, the two separated to their doors across the hall from one another. Almost as an afterthought, she turned back to him, motioning to her ajar door. “I prepared a pot-roast this morning, if you’d like to join me for dinner,” she offered, feeling more awkward than she meant. Even he looked perplexed. “As my neighbor, Robby. No Railroad business. Otherwise, most of it is going to Dogmeat.”

After a beat, he laughed. “Pot-roast sounds great, Hardy.”

April 11th, 1958

Madelyn hardly recognized the woman staring back at her in the reflection of her vanity mirror as she applied the finishing touches to her makeup, searching her drawers for the perfect red hue of lipstick. Her natural golden hair had been tucked back and hidden beneath a long, wavy dark brunette wig, the soft barrels falling over one shoulder and resting across the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Gown—she could hear Jenny correcting—Madelyn reminded herself she would need to be extra careful with the borrowed garment. It would not end up in the box of ruined clothes she had ripped or stained while running around the city investigating with the agency and Railroad.

Outside her bedroom, she could hear Dogmeat happily barking, Codsworth murmuring something while a third voice laughed along. Deacon—fresh from his trip to the nation’s capital, he had wasted no time in agreeing to an undercover operation and promised a show. She hadn’t seen him since he departed—communicating through dead drops to confirm their ‘assignment’—and could feel the anxiety bubbling to the surface over her conflicted feelings for him. But that night, more than ever, she would need to suppress her emotions for the sake of the investigation and stay focused.

She slipped her feet into a pair of strappy black heels as she stood, reviewing her appearance in the full-length mirror. The strapless gown was black, with a sheen to it that sparkled under the right light. The fabric hugged her curves (and then some), loose around her legs with a slit along one slide that was almost too high for her tastes. It was unlike anything Madelyn had in her closet, and not something she would’ve expected her partner’s fiancé to own either, until it was offered as the perfect outfit for the evening’s festivities. The only problem was that she and Jenny weren’t exactly the same size—she stretched to reach the zipper again, struggling to get the right angle to make it budge.

“Miss Madelyn,” Codsworth buzzed outside in the hallway. “Mr. Deacon is inquiring about your presence. Is everything alright?”

With a defeated sigh, she opened her bedroom door for the robot, laughing at the way his mechanical eyes widened as he inspected her appearance. “Can you work a zipper?”

“Pardon, mum?”

She gave his metal chassis an affectionate pat as she walked past him, awkwardly holding the dress to her body as she walked the short distance to the main room of her apartment where Deacon was sitting at the kitchen counter, turned towards the hallway as if he had been waiting for her appearance. Or at least she thought it was Deacon—if it weren’t for his ever-present reflective shades, she wouldn’t have recognized him. The black pompadour (which High Rise had strongly hinted wasn’t natural to begin with) was gone, replaced with a short, wavy style instead, a warm ginger in color—it matched his eyebrows. He wore a different, well-tailored black suit than he had before, black wingtip shoes looking like he hadn’t been walked a step in. Handsome was an understatement—Madelyn wasn’t sure what to make of the not-so-subtle transformation—reminding herself to remain on task.

“Need some help there, Charmer?” he asked, breaking the silence. He gestured to her dress and beckoned for her to come closer.

Madelyn approached with a small nod, finding that her tongue felt too heavy in her mouth to speak. She turned her back to him, breathing in deep and straightening slightly when she felt his fingers brush across her skin for the zipper of the dress. What should’ve been a simple and quick movement had turned into another spark between the two, his touch lingering far longer than necessary, thumb sweeping across her spine. But she didn’t move away.

“You look downright sinful.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, hoping he couldn’t sense how nervous she was, how her skin had turned burning hot at his words. She focused on his hair, and curiosity got the better of her.

“Is that your natural hair?”

He smirked, one eyebrow arching up like he expected something a little more flirtatious from her. “Maybe.”

Madelyn twisted around to face him, resting one hand along the kitchen counter to balance herself. As Deacon pulled his hands back to himself, she noted the glimmer on his left hand and a new tightness formed in her chest at the sight of the golden band. Why was he wearing a wedding ring? At her confusion, he gestured to her own wedding band, causing her to clamp her right hand around the diamonds to hide the jewelry.

“I knew you weren’t going to take it off, even for the sake of an undercover persona,” he explained. “Figured we’d go for the easiest play in the book. Better to blend in than stand out.”

As uncomfortable as she suddenly felt, a new wave of emotions taking over her body and mind, Deacon was right. He was also far more of an expert at espionage than she was—he knew what he was doing, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed to trust him.

“We’ll need a good cover story,” she offered, nodding in agreement. Still, she anxiously twisted at the ring Nate had given her almost twelve years prior, burning against her skin. More than ever, she could feel the weight of his presence around her, the guilt compounding as she agreed to this charade—even for one night.

“What do you suggest?”

Madelyn deliberated, fidgeting with the slit of the dress before thinking of who had leant it to her in the first place. Her mother had always taught her that when in doubt, use what you know.

“I’m a nurse at Medford Memorial Hospital and you’re a retired army vet. We met when you ended up in my ward after a training exercise went wrong and I had to nurse you back to health. Sparks flew, our parents disagreed, and we had to elope. Thanksgiving weekend, 1954 in Manhattan.”

She thought about the rest of the specifics. “Catherine,” she said. Her mother’s name—not that Deacon needed to know that. “My name is Catherine. Kitty for short.”

Deacon looked stunned. “Did you just come up with all that right now?”

She softly chuckled. “Thank Nick and Jenny, give or take…the rest of the details.”

“How romantic,” he mused. “I’d say you’re better at this than you think. A natural.”

He stood, signaling to the clock on the wall that they needed to catch a cab across town, or they would be more than fashionably late to the party. Feeling more confident than she had earlier, she smiled at him. “So husband, what should I call you?”

Deacon grinned as he laced their hands. “Dollface, you can call me Johnny.”

The Third Rail was classier than Madelyn expected for a speakeasy, built into one of the abandoned subway tunnels downtown. Even if Skinny Malone and his gang of Triggermen—as he dubbed them—were gangsters, she had to give it up to them for the ingenuity of the idea. There was a certain kind of ambience to the place—low lighting and dark linens spread across the tables—seedy characters lining the walls with leery expressions, it was enough to make anybody fearful. Yet Madelyn felt strangely at ease, and it had everything to do with the way Deacon’s hand was resting along her waist.

For an hour now, they had been seated at a candlelit table, chairs pushed close to ensure their cover as husband and wife remained intact. Despite her comfort, her mind had been running wild, filled with questions about Johnny. Was that supposed to be an allusion to John D.? As Madelyn took a sip from her glass of champagne, she took a side eyed glance at him, fixating on his hair. She wondered if this was his way of shedding his Railroad persona and if for a little while, he could be himself without anyone knowing. The mystery of not knowing frustrated her even more—this wasn’t exactly the place to confront him for the truth. Instead she continued to sip at her drink, allowing herself one brief moment to think about brushing her fingers through the ginger waves before looking away.

A gorgeous woman adorned in a sparkling red dress crooned a slow song about love from the lit stage, her small band of jazz musicians accompanying her like they had rehearsed the melody a hundred times. Skinny Malone had introduced her as Magnolia—a starlet in her own right among Boston nightclubs, there as a special treat for his beloved girlfriend on her birthday. So far the evening had been as calm as one could expect when in a room full of drunken mobsters, with no sign of anyone suspicious, even as she sighted a few men so green they had to belong to the Boston police force.

“Kitty darling,” Deacon leaned to murmur in her ear. “We’ve got eyes on us.”

She nonchalantly glanced to find a man at the bar taking too many looks at them over their shoulder. In spite of his disguise, his fidgeting and whiskey gave him away. Marty Bulfinch. With a small smile she shook her head. “That’s a friend.”

Deacon nodded, though his lips twisted into a thin line. “Looks familiar.”

“Hmm?” she was genuinely curious, wondering how their paths could’ve crossed.

He frowned, quickly dismissing the topic. “Not now. Later.”

Madelyn continued to survey the crowd as she drank her champagne, giggling on cue when Deacon would provide her with information from the conversations he was eavesdropping on, under the guise of saying something nonsensical into her ear.

“You didn’t happen to sneak a weapon past the guards, did you?” he asked, fingers tightening along her waist as he took a long sip of his brandy.

She brushed her foot against his ankle, catching his attention so he’d glance down to wear she was hiking up the slit of her skirt ever so slightly to reveal the holster attached to her garter belt—a trick Piper had taught her after watching too many detective movies. Madelyn didn’t realize how practical it would become, the .22 cold against her skin. Deacon made a low sound, somewhere between a hum and a growl and it caused a warmth to bloom in her chest.

“If all else fails, there’s the hairpin in my curls,” she added, adjusting her dress and flashing him a knowing look.

He held her gaze, the candlelight flickering in the reflection of his sunglasses. “We both know how deadly you are with that.”

As Magnolia dedicated the next song to Skinny Malone and his gal, Deacon shifted out his seat and extended his arm to her. “Come on Kitty Cat, let’s dance.”

Madelyn took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, her heart racing with excitement and skin tingling alive with goosebumps. Almost immediately she was transported to that first dance at the Memory Den—the electric feeling that had engulfed her body and soul. Maybe she should’ve known then that she would be enraptured by his enigmatic nature. It was inescapable, no matter how hard she tried to deny herself the truth. But what was the truth?

Deacon tugged her close as they swayed to the slow song, dipping his head so his lips were angled near her ear. “What do you think?”

She blinked, struggling to remind herself what he was referring to. Her eyes danced around their environment, looking from the pairs of dancing couples to the patrons that sat at the surrounding tables. As far as she could tell, the only people present were Skinny Malone’s Triggermen and the people Marty Bulfinch had brought from the precinct. If any of Eddie Winter’s men were in the building, they had yet to make themselves known. She didn’t want to assume they wouldn’t take the opportunity to strike, not when the iron was hot.

“Something isn’t right,” she muttered, unsure. Madelyn focused on the bar where Marty was sitting earlier, only to find he had disappeared. In an effort not to panic, she steadied her breathing, looking towards where Skinny Malone was standing, entertaining some guests near the stage. A waitress came by with a new round of drinks, just in time for the birthday toast.

Madelyn tried to lead him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Easy now, kitten,” Deacon assured, the hand at her waist tightening a little. “We have an audience.”

She flicked her gaze over his shoulder to the two Triggermen on the edge of the dancefloor, muttering to themselves as they gestured to where they were dancing. With one steady breath, she slinked herself closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “We need a distraction.”

“I like the way you think.”

Madelyn looked up at him through her lashes, and felt his fingers trail up to her shoulder and then her neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. Cupping the side of her face, she could feel the cool metal band of the wedding ring he wore, reminding her of the charade they were meant to be playing. He wasn’t Deacon, but Johnny—not her Railroad partner, but her husband. If she wanted to, she could kiss him, and blame it all on the undercover assignment. It didn’t matter what her real feelings were—she could face them later—or live in this fantasy and sin for as long as she wanted.

He noticed her hesitation. “I won’t kiss you if you don’t want me to.”

She didn’t say anything, tilting her chin a fraction closer just as Magnolia finished her song. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the sound of clinging glasses and the echoing sounds of cheers! It faded away as Deacon’s lips ghosted over hers, and she didn’t even care if the Triggermen were watching. Madelyn fluttered her eyes closed and could feel herself drifting—

A loud crash resonated through the entire club and on impulse she pulled herself away, inhaling a sharp breath as she focused her vision. For the split second she settled on Deacon’s face it was difficult to discern his expression—was he disappointed? It quickly melted away as they both diverted their attention towards the stage where Skinny Malone had collapsed, the table knocked over and glasses shattered. Madelyn was disoriented as she rushed over through the crowd of people—there hadn’t been a gunshot—what had happened?

A stocky man in a well-made, pinstriped suit was inspecting the tray of drinks that had been discarded on the floor. “Boss’ been slipped sumthin’!”

Poison? Madelyn felt the dread settle in her chest—this was unlike Winter—he always liked to take a direct approach when killing off his competition. But she had no time to question his methods when as of late, his crimes had become unpredictable.

“Move away!” she yelled over the crowd of frantic Triggermen. “I’m a nurse, maybe I can help!”

In the chaos, nobody made to stop her as she knelt over Skinny Malone’s crumpled body, pressing her fingers to his throat to check for a pulse. Frosty white foam was sputtering from his mouth and his eyes were wide, bulging. His hands were scrambling at the carpet for purchase, but a moment later they switched to yank at his jacket and tie. It was all in vein as he lie there suffocating, choking on his own tongue—there wasn’t anything Madelyn could do, even if she was a real medical professional. She gave him a sympathetic look, before noticing the thick pocketbook in the seam of his blazer. Without a second thought she snatched it, tucking it as well as she could in the front of her dress.

Skinny Malone began to struggle, gripping the arm of his nearest Triggerman. Madelyn was swept up at that time, Deacon’s hands tight around her waist as he led her away as calmly as possible.

“Time to hit the road,” he said through gritted teeth, suppressing his distress that they would be stopped in the confusion as they made their exit.

As they left the Third Rail, Madelyn felt as though their undercover assignment was a failure. Eddie Winter had gotten what he wanted with Skinny Malone’s death and was one step further in his complete take over of Boston.

It was time to play their hand.

#fallout 4 #noir au #deacon x f!solesurvivor #madelyn hardy #deacon #nick valentine #piper wright #marty bullfinch #drummer boy #the john d. theory persists even in noir okay #piper has valid concerns #who called for undercover lovers?!#AND GINGER DEACON!?#👀👀👀#i am so sorry this is 7k+

13 notes · View notes

scrumptioushottubinfluencer · 3 years

Text

Er Emergency Room Season 1

Susan Lewis, MDFirst appearanceSeptember 19, 1994 (1x01, '24 Hours')Last appearanceApril 2, 2009 (15x22, 'And In The End')Portrayed bySherry StringfieldDuration1994–96, 2001–05, 2009In-universe informationNicknameSusieTitle

Resident (1994–1996)

Attending (2001–2005)

Chief of Emergency Medicine (2003–2005)

OccupationEmergency PhysicianFamily

Henry Lewis (father)

Irene “Cookie” Lewis (mother, deceased)

Chloe Lewis (sister)

SpouseChuck Martin (ex-husband)Significant otherDiv Cvetic (ex-boyfriend)ChildrenCosmo Martin (son, with Chuck)RelativesSuzie Lewis (niece)

Emergency Room

Hospital Er Rooms

Susan Lewis is a character as played by Sherry Stringfield, on the fictional television show ER. Sherry Stringfield is one of ER's original cast members, portraying Susan in Season 1 as an eager resident. Stringfield left the show, the character was not recast and Susan left County General Hospital and the series in Season 3, but. ER Confidential November 17, 1994. Season 1, Episode 10. November 17, 1994. Cvetic (John Terry) struggles with a growing sense of hatred toward his patients; Hathaway faces an ethical crisis.

Dr. Susan Lewis is a character as played by Sherry Stringfield, on the fictional television showER.

Sherry Stringfield is one of ER's original cast members, portraying Susan in Season 1 as an eager resident. Stringfield left the show, the character was not recast and Susan left County General Hospital and the series in Season 3, but Stringfield and the character returned five seasons later as an attending physician in Season 8. Susan Lewis eventually checked out of the ER for good in 2005, at the beginning of Season 12, having been passed over for tenure in favor of John Carter by Kerry Weaver. She was offered a tenured position at a hospital in Iowa City.

Development[edit]

During the third season of the series, actress Sherry Stringfield left ER for the first time. In an interview with the Chicago Tribune, Stringfield explained that having a family was one of the primary reasons for her to leave the show.[1] According to Entertainment Weekly, Stringfield's decision to quit angered the show's executive producer John Wells, because she left just as Dr. Lewis got embroiled in a budding romance with Anthony Edwards' Dr. Mark Greene.[2] Stringfield revealed it was not a pleasant situation and said: 'The producers were in shock. They tried to talk me out of it. It took a long time to get out of my contract.'[3]

However, by the time of the eighth season, her schedule allowed her to return to the series. Wells said they were 'delighted to welcome her back as a series regular and can't wait to work with her again.'[1] Stringfield remained in the main cast for four more seasons, until August 2005, when she announced that she would be leaving ER again and stated: 'I am extremely grateful for the time I spent on ER,' Stringfield explained. 'It is a wonderful show, and there are so many people I will miss. But I'm ready for new roles and new challenges.'[4]

Character history[edit]

Seasons 1–3 First Departure (1994–1996)[edit]

In Season 1, Susan is a second year resident. She is shown to be an eager and competent young doctor working in the emergency department of County General Hospital. She is good friends with Nurse Carol Hathaway, Dr. Doug Ross and especially Dr. Mark Greene, who is her best friend.

Though an extremely capable doctor, Susan is initially seen to have problems asserting herself. This is frequently taken advantage of by the senior and more forthright doctors in the hospital, such as Dr. Peter Benton and particularly Dr. Jack Kayson. This leads to several confrontations, and animosity worsens when Kayson discharges one of Susan's patients, failing to notice the severity of his symptoms, which ultimately leads to the patient's death.

Kayson tries to deflect the blame onto Susan and her competence is questioned. Her superior, Mark, is forced to monitor her every move and their friendship is put under strain as a result. During the case review, however, the board rules in Susan's favor and reprimands Kayson—much to his chagrin.

Shortly after, Kayson is rushed into hospital suffering from a heart attack. Despite their past disagreement on the issue, Kayson opts for Susan's non-invasive form of treatment against the advice of a senior doctor, who (like Kayson) is an advocate of surgical angioplasty. Finally asserting herself, Susan stands her ground and refuses to allow Kayson to be treated surgically. Following his recovery, Kayson shows his gratitude by asking Susan to be his valentine date, which she awkwardly declines.

Susan's personal life is far less settled than her professional one. In Season 1, she is seen to have a brief relationship with psychiatrist Div Cvetic, who ultimately has a nervous breakdown and disappears. Susan later learns that he married someone he met through a dating service, run by a taxi driver from his cab.

Most of her problems, however, are family-related. Susan's parents, Cookie and Henry, are shown to be flighty (her father is jokingly referred to as a test pilot for Barcalounger) and difficult to talk to. Her older sister, Chloe, is the source of most of her distress, with a seemingly never ending series of problems with alcohol, drugs, men, and money. Chloe eventually has a baby girl, who she names Susan ('Little Susie') after her sister. During Season 2 however, Chloe begins to use alcohol and drugs once again. After deciding that she cannot look after her baby, she leaves Chicago, abandoning Susie on a flustered and overworked Susan.

Susan as she appeared in 1996.

She struggles to be a good mother to the child while completing her demanding residency. Already overstressed, Susan clashes with the new Chief Resident, Kerry Weaver, numerous times, forcing Mark Greene to step in between them. Animosity between Kerry and Susan lessens over time, but never goes away completely. Realizing that Chloe may never return, Susan considers giving Susie up for adoption. She gets as far as introducing the baby to potential adoptive parents, but cannot bring herself to part with her niece, so she decides to keep her and adopt the child as her own.

Susan grows extremely attached to the baby, but she gets a surprise when a reformed Chloe reappears later in the season and tries to reclaim 'little Susie'. Susan can't see past Chloe's mistakes, regardless of her recent turnaround and new responsible boyfriend. Desperate to keep the baby, Susan attempts to fight Chloe for custody, but is forced to reconsider when the judge warns her that she would lose. Susan begrudgingly reaches an agreement with her sister, and after regaining custody of 'little Susie', Chloe moves her family to Phoenix, Arizona to start a new life.

Susan struggles to cope with the loss of her niece and goes through a period of grief and counseling. She throws herself into her work to escape her feelings of loneliness, which manages to impress Weaver and, with Mark's encouragement, Kerry agrees to offer Susan the position of chief resident (she promises to support Susan's promotion if Mark recommends her as County's new attending physician). Much of the ER staff hoped Susan could achieve that title, but Susan turns the position down, later telling Mark that there is more to life than work.

Setting up Sherry Stringfield's departure from the series in Season 3, the beginnings of a romance appears to develop between Susan and Mark, or more to the point, they are shown to have problems identifying their current relationship as friendship. Both seem timid and cautious around each other. Initially more upfront about the situation, Susan invites Mark to join her on holiday in Maui, Hawaii, but is embarrassed when he appears hesitant, and later retracts the offer, feeling she overstepped a boundary.

Fearful that he may have missed his chance with Susan, Mark attempts to convey his attraction towards her upon her return, though he cannot find the courage to follow through and is left perplexed by Susan's reticence. It transpires that Susan never actually made it to Maui, she instead visited her sister and 'little Susie' in Phoenix as she could not overcome her fear of flying. Mark helps her overcome this fear in the following episode ('Fear of Flying'), supporting her during a helicopter flight rotation where they are called upon to treat victims of a serious motor accident.

As they grow closer, Mark finally plucks up the courage to casually ask Susan out, however she declines, telling him that they 'need to talk'. Shortly after, Mark witnesses Susan in numerous secret talks with the ER's chief of emergency medicine, David Morgenstern, and concludes that they are seeing each other. He confronts Susan, but she reveals that Morgenstern was merely helping her to transfer her residency. Desperately missing her niece, Susan had made the decision to move to Phoenix to be near her sister's family.

During a hectic last day for Susan at County's ER, Mark struggles with her imminent departure, but still finds himself afraid to admit his true feelings for her. The hospital staff arrange a leaving party for Susan, but it is canceled due to an influx of critical patients from a motoring accident. Susan leaves the hospital unable to say goodbye to Mark, who was busy working on a trauma patient. He manages to arrive just as her train is about to depart (episode 'Union Station). Mark pleads with her to stay because he loves her. But Susan doesn't see a future in Chicago or with him. She kisses him and says 'I love you, too' as the train departs.

Seasons 8–12 and second departure (2001–2005)[edit]

Susan returns during Season 8 as she left, shown to arrive on a train into Chicago to interview for a job. Susan visits County General for the first time in 5 years and sees the hospital has changed as well as the faces. She meets Mark for coffee and reveals that Chloe has moved on to another city, and she has decided that she can't follow her sister's family around forever. Mark offers her a job as an attending physician at County General, despite Kerry Weaver's reservations – the two never got along when they worked together before.

Susan returns to County (2001).

During Season 8 Susan has a brief relationship with Dr. John Carter after they both admit that they had a crush on each other when he was a medical student and she was a resident – it doesn't last, as Susan realizes in the episode Secrets and Lies, that Carter is really in love with Abby Lockhart. She then tells Carter to 'tell her' about his feelings. The two both break up on good terms and remain good friends throughout the rest of her career at County. Her problems with Chloe resurface when her niece Susie goes missing in New York after leaving a distressing voicemail message on her aunt's phone. Susan flies to New York (in a crossover with Third Watch) and discovers Chloe doped up, sleeping rough. Towards the end of the season, Susan faces one of her most difficult story lines, as her best friend Mark Greene reveals to her that his brain tumor has returned. The two rekindled their close friendship as she helps him come to terms with his diagnosis. Susan is alluded to in Mark's goodbye letter in 'The Letter' when Mark comments that he had to leave the way he did, even though there were things of a more personal nature to say. After her best friend's death, Susan warmed up to other friendships in the ER with Abby Lockhart and Elizabeth Corday, and was able to work better with her old colleague Kerry Weaver. Dr. Romano, who actually respected her (he once told another doctor to get Dr. Lewis when he had a medical emergency, calling her 'the least annoying person down there'), also promoted her to Deputy Chief of Emergency Medicine much to Kerry Weaver's dismay.

Into Season 9, Susan meets a flight nurse named Chuck Martin (played by Donal Logue) on a plane to Las Vegas. They both get drunk upon arrival and end up getting married in Vegas. They quickly have the marriage annulled once they return to Chicago, but eventually start dating again, and Susan becomes pregnant. She is finally promoted to the position of Chief of Emergency Medicine after Robert Romano dies in Season 10. While other pregnant characters had given birth on the show, at the time, Susan's was the first major birth offscreen, with her giving birth sometime between Seasons 10 and 11 (and being placed on bedrest amid concerns of preterm labor). Chuck ends up caring for their baby boy Cosmo as a stay-at-home parent while Susan works.

Into Season 11, Susan begins to build some anxiety about the upcoming tenure offer. It ultimately goes to her friend John Carter, due to her lack of grant funding, finally leading to her final exit from the series at the beginning of Season 12 in the episode 'Canon City'. Susan is offered a tenure track position at a hospital in Iowa City, Iowa (presumably University of Iowa). Technically, Stringfield was the first and last original cast member to leave the show. (Being the first to leave in 1996, then in 2005 after the rest of the original cast left.) This was later bested by Noah as he returned in the final season of E.R in 2009.

Season 15 Return in The End (2009)[edit]

In the season 15 episode 'The Book of Abby', long-serving nurse Haleh Adams shows the departing Abby Lockhart a closet wall where all the past doctors and employees have put their locker name tags. Amongst them, the tag 'Lewis' can be seen.

Dr. Susan Lewis returned for the series finale titled 'And in the End...',[5][6] returning to Chicago for the opening of The Carter Center. During evening drinks with Peter Benton, John Carter, Kerry Weaver, Elizabeth Corday, and Rachel Greene, Susan is heard confirming to Dr. Corday that she still lives in Iowa. Additionally, she states that she and Chuck have split and she is now dating again. She eventually returns to the ER for the last time in the series with Rachel Greene and Carter, where she visits and jokes with the staff, much to the annoyance of Dr. Banfield who interrupts the talk by asking Susan who she is.

Reception[edit]

Sherry Stringfield's decision to leave ER was a 'shock wave through Hollywood.'[7] According to Entertainment Weekly, people called Stringfield 'nuts' for leaving 'the hottest show on TV for some investment banker in New York.'[3]

Other officesPreceded by Robert Romano Chief of Emergency Medicine 2004–2005Succeeded by Luka Kovač

References[edit]

^ abVanessa Sibbald (2001). 'Why Sherry Stringfield has returned to `ER''. Chicago Tribune. Retrieved 2019-07-11.

^Kennedy, Dana (1997-10-17). 'Why I left ER, by Sherry Stringfield'. Entertainment Weekly. Retrieved 2007-02-24.

^ abKennedy, Dana (1997-10-17). 'Sherry Stringfield, the Goodbye Girl'. Entertainment Weekly.

^'Sherry Stringfield quits 'ER' Again'. Digital Spy. 2005-08-06. Retrieved 2007-04-12.

^Mickey O'Connor (2009). 'Sherry Stringfield Returning to ER'. TV Guide. Retrieved 2019-07-11.

^'Sherry Stringfield is Back!'. TV Guide. 2009-02-12. Retrieved 2009-02-12.

^'STRINGFIELD YEARNS FOR `NORMAL LIFE''. Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. 1996-11-22. Retrieved 2012-03-28.

Retrieved from 'https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Susan_Lewis&oldid=992148957'

Doug RossFirst appearanceSeptember 19, 1994 (1x01, '24 Hours')Last appearanceMarch 12, 2009 (15x19, 'Old Times')Portrayed byGeorge ClooneyDuration1994–1999, 2000, 2009In-universe informationFull nameDouglas RossNicknameDoug, DougieGenderMaleTitlePediatric Fellow (1994–1998) Pediatric Attending (1998–1999)OccupationPhysician, PediatricianFamilyRay Ross (father; deceased) Sarah Ross (mother)SpouseCarol Hathaway (wife)ChildrenKate Ross (daughter, with Carol) Tess Ross (daughter, with Carol)Born1962[1]

Dr. Douglas 'Doug' Ross is a fictional character from the television series ER, portrayed by George Clooney. George Clooney's removal from the main cast opening credits was in the 16th episode of season 5.

Plot[edit]

Doug Ross was raised by his mother, Sarah, after his father, Ray, abandoned their family. In Season 1, Ross revealed to a patient that he had a son, and he tells nurse Wendy Goldman that he doesn't know his son's name as he's never seen him. Not much else is known about Doug's past. Despite his jumbled personal life, Ross is a dedicated ER pediatrician. He has always been committed to medicine and children and to helping no matter the rules or the consequences. During Season 2, Doug rescued a boy trapped in a flooding storm drain during a rainstorm. His heroic efforts were filmed on local television, making him a media star. This event helped him earn back his job at County, because his supervisor in pediatrics originally wasn't going to renew his fellowship due to his disrespect for authority.

During Season 2, Ray tries to reconcile with Doug, who has difficulty reconnecting with the man who abandoned him and his mother. Ray owns a ritzy hotel in Chicago, and Doug lets his guard down a little but is disappointed when his father offers to take him to a Chicago Bulls game and then stands him up. Ross later reveals that he and his mother were abused by his father. Doug later has an affair with Ray's girlfriend, a woman from whom Ray stole money, but ends the relationship when it becomes clear that she has many problems.

Ross is a womanizer who dates and leaves many women throughout the course of the show. His womanizing days abruptly end after a one-night stand with an epileptic woman who hides her condition and dies in the ER. Ross learns her name only after she dies, after which he stops dating for a while until he gets back together with Carol Hathaway, the head nurse of the ER at County.

Warner Bros. Television, the studio which produces ER for NBC, kept secret from NBC Dr. Ross' cameo in 'Such Sweet Sorrow', which promoted the episode as Carol Hathaway's goodbye, with no mention of Ross' appearance. The original version of 'Such Sweet Sorrow' that Warner Bros. sent to NBC ended after the scene where we see Hathaway on the plane to Seattle. At the eleventh hour, Warner Bros. sent an 'edited' version of the episode by messenger to NBC headquarters in New York for broadcast. NBC was miffed that it was kept in the dark as it could have generated valuable ad revenue if it had aired promos that the episode marked the return of George Clooney. Clooney cited the fans of the show for his reason for making the cameo (he wanted Hathaway's and Ross's characters to get back together, which many fans hoped for). Clooney reportedly only asked to be paid scale for the cameo.

In the season 15 episode 'Old Times,' Ross is working as an attending physician at the University of Washington Medical Center. He is helping a grieving grandmother (Susan Sarandon) whose grandson was gravely injured in a bicycle accident. He talks to Sam and Neela after finding out that they are from County, asking them whether any of his old colleagues still work there. Doug and Carol are responsible for getting the kidney for Carter and a heart for another County patient, but they never discover who receives the organs.

Career[edit]

In the pilot episode, which takes place on St. Patrick's Day 1994, Ross is brought into the ER not long before his shift, to be 'treated' for drunkenness by his longtime friend, Dr. Mark Greene. Throughout the next few seasons, Ross is shown to be compassionate, though not always using the best judgment. His love of children is best seen during darker situations, such as when a child is in danger. When Peter Benton talks about how surgeons deal with emotionally charged cases and ER doctors have it easy, Ross leaves him stunned into silence when describing cases that include a young girl who beat her mother to death, a kid who is going to lose his leg to cancer and another kid who is dying from a life of homelessness. His lack of judgment leads him to assault abusive parents in the ER, but his counseling in that case just consists of the shrink telling him not to do that again.

He is a passionate doctor who puts the welfare of his patients, especially children, above his medical career. In one episode, Dr. Ross saves a young boy who is drowning and is flown in to County General using a news helicopter. This garners him much attention, earns him an award, and saves his job. Ross doesn't handle authority well, even when Mark is his boss. He is a pediatrician, but in several episodes performs medical procedures on adults, usually when the other doctors are busy.

In another episode, he tries to do an ultra-rapid detox on a drug-addicted baby without the mother's consent. Hathaway assists, but when Greene and Weaver discover that the procedure is being done in violation of hospital policy and the law, Doug is punished. He is left on probation for 30 days and is supervised by Dr. Kerry Weaver and Dr. Greene, who have to co-sign his charts. Doug's attitude toward patient treatment often has consequences for his coworkers and supervisors, who have received reprimands from their superiors for Doug's actions.

He vies to be an attending physician for emergency pediatrics. He eventually gets the job, even though doctors Greene and Weaver oppose his promotion because the position isn't necessary and the funds are needed elsewhere. Greene is ultimately happy for Ross, but Weaver is aghast and campaigns against his new position.

He resigns in the aftermath of a scandal in which he shows a mother how to bypass the lockouts on a DilaudidPCA, enabling her to give a lethal dose of medication to her terminally ill son. Ross had earlier stolen Dilaudid from a pain- medication study and given it to the mother, only to be discovered by Weaver and Greene, who reprimand him but kept the incident private. The incident prompts the closure of Hathaway's free clinic in the hospital, since it supplied the PCA to this mother, and Ross faces suspension from work and possible criminal charges. A friend of Ross, who is the Chief of Genetics, stands up for him and the charges against him are dropped, but Ross resigns from the hospital and moves to Seattle. When Ross leaves, he and Hathaway are on poor terms until she discovers that she's pregnant with his twin girls. Her clinic is later re-opened, but she has to report to her former assistant there.

Ross was written out of the series because Clooney wished to focus on his expanding film career. He also said that there wasn't any strong story in place for his character after Season 5.[This quote needs a citation] He appeared at the end of the penultimate episode of season 6, when Carol leaves Cook County to reunite with Ross in Seattle. He was reportedly asked to return briefly in season 8, to make an appearance in Anthony Edwards's last episode during Greene's funeral, but Clooney declined because he did not want his cameo appearance to overshadow the departure of a beloved character on the show.

Clooney returned to ER for its 15th and final season in 2009 in a story arc beginning with Episode 328, titled 'Old Times', with Julianna Margulies also returning as Hathaway. The two are now married and work to help convince a grieving grandmother to donate her grandson's organs. During the process, Doug talks with Neela Rasgotra and learns that nearly everyone he knows has since departed County with Anspaugh being the only one left. At the end of the episode they receive word of the success of their efforts, unaware that the doctor who got the kidney was their old friend John Carter.

Development[edit]

Casting and creation[edit]

George Clooney did not receive a casting call for the television series. He received a draft of the script from a friend; he read it and became interested in the part. He said: 'I like the flaws in this guy. I can play him.'[2]

Neal Baer who worked on ER was inspired by his personal experiences to write storylines for the character of Doug Ross. He did his residency while he was on ER and became a pediatrician, which helped to 'draw on really complicated ethical dilemmas.'[3]

Characterization[edit]

The character was described as 'a complicated children's doctor who could be self-centered quick-tempered and giving, hitting the bottle to avoid dealing with consequences of his actions.'[4]

Reception[edit]

In 2004, Ross was listed in Bravo's 100 Greatest TV Characters.[5]Entertainment Weekly placed Ross in its list of the '30 Great TV Doctors and Nurses'.[6] The character was included in Fox News' list of 'The Best TV Doctors For Surgeon General' and in Philadelphia Magazine's 10 Best Doctors on Television.[7][8] Ross was also listed in Wetpaint's '10 Hottest Male Doctors on TV' and in BuzzFeed's '16 Hottest Doctors On Television'.[9][10] His relationship with Carol Hathaway was included in AOL TV's list of the 'Best TV Couples of All Time' and in the same list by TV Guide.[11][12]

For his work on the series, Clooney received two Emmy Award nominations for Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama Series in 1995 and 1996.[13][14] He was also nominated for three Golden Globe Awards for Best Actor – Television Series Drama in 1995, 1996, and 1997 (losing to co-star Anthony Edwards).[15][16][17]

References[edit]

^Mimi Leder (director), John Wells (writer) (1996-02-22). 'The Healers'. ER. Season 2. Episode 16. NBC.

^Keenleyside, Sam (April 1998). Bedside Manners: George Clooney and ER. ECW Press. p. 51. ISBN978-1-5502-2336-1.

^Tate, Nick (January 11, 2015). ''ER' Producer Dr. Neal Baer Turns Lens on Poverty, Education Reform'. Newsmax Media. Retrieved August 15, 2015.

^Potts, Kimberly (September 1, 2011). George Clooney: The Last Great Movie Star Revised and Updated Edition. Applause. p. 51. ISBN978-1-5578-3785-1.

^'Bravo > 100 Greatest TV Characters'. Bravo. Archived from the original on July 17, 2007. Retrieved November 11, 2006.

^Wilkinson, Amy (June 15, 2009). 'George Clooney – Paging Dr. Feelgood: 30 Great TV Doctors and Nurses – Photo 12 of 28'. Entertainment Weekly. Time Inc. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'The Best TV Doctors For Surgeon General'. Fox News. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^Palan, Erica (October 11, 2011). '10 Best Doctors on Television'. Philadelphia Magazine. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^Martin, Rebecca (December 21, 2012). 'The 10 Hottest Male Doctors on TV'. Wetpaint. The Cambio Network. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'The 16 Hottest Doctors On Television'. BuzzFeed. September 28, 2012. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^Potts, Kimberly (February 11, 2008). 'Best TV Couples of All Time'. AOL TV. Aol, Inc. Retrieved September 24, 2012.

^'Couples Pictures, ER Photos - Photo Gallery: The Best TV Couples of All Time'. TV Guide. Retrieved June 25, 2012.

^'Primetime Emmy nominations for 1995 - Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama Series'. Emmys.com. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'Primetime Emmy nominations for 1996 - Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama Series'. Emmys.com. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'The 53rd Annual Golden Globe Awards (1996)'. Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'The 54th Annual Golden Globe Awards (1997)'. Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Archived from the original on May 21, 2013. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

^'The 54th Annual Golden Globe Awards (1998)'. Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Retrieved January 24, 2013.

Emergency Room

External links[edit]

Bio at TNT.com

Official ER website at NBC.com

Hospital Er Rooms

Retrieved from 'https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Doug_Ross&oldid=991497793'

1 note · View note

cuthian · 4 years

Text

Dancing in the Rain Chapter One

Welcome to the piece you've all been waiting for so very patiently!

This piece /can/ be read as a standalone piece, but should you have any questions if you do, be sure to ask in the comments, I'll reply as soon as I can :)

This entire work has been written and edited already, and will be updated on Mondays :D

As always, much thanks to Juulna for putting up with me!

Lots of love, Annaelle

Dancing in the Rain

Life is not about how you survive the storm It is about how you dance in the rain —Unknown author

Chapter One

REBECCA BARNES RESIGNS AS EARTH’S AMBASSADOR TO ASGARD AFTER PREGNANCY LEAK

Move comes only days after The New York Times published an article ‘outing’ Rebecca Barnes’ pregnancy, based on the say-so of Barnes’ former obstetrician, who says she was fired after Barnes filed a baseless complaint about the care she provided.

In a move that was predicted by several political experts following the tell-all article, Rebecca Barnes confirmed today that she would be resigning from her post as Earth’s Ambassador to Asgard—less than a year after her initial appointment. […]Ambassador Rebecca Barnes’ decision today came after several politicians from across the globe expressed their concern about Barnes’ ability to remain impartial and to represent Earth.

Barnes released a pre-recorded statement, in which she confirms that she is, indeed, pregnant, and that she will be stepping down from her post as ambassador. […]also distances herself from the statements made by her former obstetrician, confirming she chose to switch to a different doctor due to irreconcilable differences in opinion.

“I have always taken [her duties as ambassador] very seriously,” Barnes said in her statement, “and it is with a heavy heart but a clear conscience that I now resign from those duties. My relationship with the Aesir now runs far deeper and more intimately than anyone thought it would, and as such, there would always be a fear that my opinions and actions would be biased. This can be a very good thing, but it’s also only right that we do the correct thing and have an Earth-focused ambassador. Someone focused on the big picture instead of… well, instead of the small, the personal.”

[…]mixed response to Barnes’ announcement and resignation. Various media outlets have latched onto the story and have begun spinning various iterations of the same question: now that Barnes is—most likely—expecting long-term boyfriend and Prince of Asgard’s first child, will the couple finally be tying the knot? And, if so, does that make Barnes the first human princess of Asgard? Will their child(ren) be recognized as an heir to the Asgardian throne?

“[…]must be something in the water over at the Avengers Tower,” talk show host Jay Leno also joked during his latest broadcast. “First Potts, now Barnes—what’s next, Captain America going for his daily Central Park run with a stroller?”

Leno’s remarks were likely partially inspired by recent pictures of Captain America reading “What to Expect when You’re Expecting” and other varied baby books in several coffee shops and parks across Manhattan and Brooklyn, and tweets by Pepper Potts detailing the Captain’s dedication to helping her out however he can, more so than even her own partners.

[…]not clear when a replacement ambassador will be elected. There is much discussion amongst the various governments of the world about which government, if any single one, should be allowed to elect one of their own, or if the many governments of the world should form a council of representatives not unlike the European Union or the United Nations solely dedicated to communications and relations with extra-terrestrial nations.

—Max Colchester and Jason Douglas, The New York Times, “Rebecca Barnes Resigns as Ambassador”, January 2016

——————

Chicago, Illinois, United States of America April 12

, 2016 Steve

“Captain America!”

“Captain America, a statement, please?”

“Captain America, anything to say to reports that the Avengers orchestrated this attack to be able to save the day again, to get good press going for them?”

“Captain, any word on why Thor hasn’t joined the fight today?”

“Captain, captain, is it true Thor has threatened to cut ties with Earth if Rebecca Barnes’ child really is yours instead of his?”

There were a passel of shouting reporters standing by the barricades, barely held back by several police officers in—somehow—pristine blue uniforms, cameras flashing and microphones held out as far as they were able to reach.

Steve heaved a sigh, unclipping his helmet and running a hand through his dirty, sweat-soaked hair before he chanced a look at himself. He was covered from head to toe in fine dust and dirt, splashes of blood streaking across his thighs and chest—that seemed about right.

The giant insects that some wannabe supervillain had set loose on an unsuspecting Chicago had been hardy and mean, and it had taken him and the other Avengers—minus Becca, who’d been benched as soon as they all learned she was pregnant and was now holed up in the Tower with Pepper, shouting at them over the comms, and Thor, who had been called back to Asgard—well over seven hours of constant fighting to exterminate them all, even after Natasha had gotten her hands on said wannabe supervillain.

He was tired, he was sweaty and covered in dirt and blood, and all he wanted was to go home to the Tower and take a hot shower and then sleep for twelve hours—but someone had to talk to the media, and it looked like it was going to be him.

He sighed again and trudged towards the reporters, mentally trying to brace himself for the vastly inane questions he’d be getting about his supposed love affair with Becca that had now culminated in her pregnancy and his passionate tryst with Pepper, that had somehow also resulted in pregnancy.

Because apparently, in the twenty-first century, it seemed entirely implausible to the reporters that people actually remained faithful to their partners, rather than sleep around with the first reasonably attractive person in the near vicinity.

It was ridiculous.

Pepper had told him to ignore the rumours, that they’d go away as soon as the next big news broke, but it bothered him nonetheless. He didn’t like that people thought he was the kind of person that was okay with cheating on his friends, didn’t like that people thought him capable of something like that—and he hated most of all that the media still insisted on pairing him only with women.

It wasn’t like he was being subtle, or that his bisexuality was a secret.

He went to Pride parades dressed in a Captain Bi-merica suit every year, volunteered at several LGBT+ shelters and donated almost half of his Avengers income to various charities dedicated to at-risk LGBT youth. Everyone in his life knew that he and Bucky had been together, and everyone in the war had known too—even Peggy had known.

It’d been the worst kept secret in the U.S. Army—Captain America and Bucky Barnes were queer for each other, and entirely unapologetic about it too.

He wasn’t sure how that tidbit of knowledge had gotten lost over time when they remembered the fucking song.

The shouting got more frantic the closer he got, and he narrowly resisted the urge to turn on his heel and run the other way as fast as his serum-enhanced legs could carry him.

“Everybody,” he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the din. “I don’t have much time before I’m needed back, but I can tell you that we have successfully contained the threat and have taken the culprit into custody. We are currently coordinating relief efforts for affected families with local authorities. We expect displaced families to be able to return to their homes sometime tomorrow.”

“Captain,” one of the bottle-blonde women with far too much make-up caked on her cheeks demanded, “Is it true this attack was orchestrated by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers to round up more sympathetic press in the wake of your scandalous affair and love child with Rebecca Barnes and Pepper Potts?”

Steve blinked at her.

“Tell me you're shitting me,” he deadpanned, barely even registering the way all of the reporters gasped. “Fifteen people lost their lives today,” he continued, maintaining direct eye contact with the woman who’d asked this fucking stupid question. “Fifteen people. Do you even know their names? I do. And I’m going to remember them for the rest of my life, because we didn’t get here fast enough—and not because of some imaginary sex scandal that exists absolutely nowhere but in your imagination, but because we’re only human too. We’re not here for better press, we’re here to make sure that those fifteen people are avenged. We’re here to make sure that no one else falls victim to one person’s greed, one person’s anger. Not because you’ve somehow got it in your head that I’ve been sleeping with the girl that may as well have been my own niece, if Bucky hadn’t died and if I hadn’t gone in the ice, and if I’d been allowed to keep the love of my life.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, even for him, and though he wanted to groan and curse himself for losing his temper, he stood by his words.

He'd pretended to be their perfect little soldier—a dancing monkey—long enough.

He was fucking done.

He shot the wide-eyed, stunned woman an icy glare and said, “No further comment,” before he turned on his heel and walked away the way he’d come.

——————————

Cuthian:

Uuuhhhmmm… So tell me someone else saw this interview with Cap today?!?! @juuls, @betheflame ARE YOU SEEING THIS?

juuls:

YES @cuthian, I’m definitely seeing this. HOLY CRAP. We called it—we SO called it.

betheflame:

I SAID he’d slip it in during an interview! I WIN THE BET!

KlaudiaForPresident:

I’m so glad that we have someone as good and morally strong as Steve Rogers to represent us finally, but can we please talk about the way he was basically bullied into coming out of the closet?

There’s no way he felt comfortable sharing something so personal like this—just look at his face at 4:33, he said it in the heat of the moment, not because he was planning to tell us; and why would he?

It’s not like the media has been kind to him about his personal relationships since he’s been in the future. He’s been linked to nearly everyone he’s ever had a conversation with, and we need to acknowledge that that’s not cool.

Imagine how UNCOMFORTABLE it must be for him to constantly have to defend that he’s not sleeping with a girl he sees as a little sister, or a cousin—family.

Let’s just let him have his privacy, okay?

Even if we’re all ecstatic that he’s admitted his—potential—bisexuality, let’s not forget that he still lost the person he saw as the love of his life. He’s probably still grieving.

Let’s allow him to grieve and not push.

#Captainbimerica #stucky #totallycalledit #birepresentation #thisismycaptain #captainamerica #psa #leavethepoormanalone #mediasucks

——————

Lagos, NigeriaApril 15

, 2016 Steve

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he told Becca after he’d switched his comm to their private channel, watching as Wanda, Nat, and Pietro moved into position on the small square between the Center of Infectious Diseases and the local police station. “Feels too easy.”

Becca hummed in agreement, and Steve didn’t need to see her to know she was sitting cross-legged on one of the extra-wide, extra-comfortable desk chairs Tony had designed especially for Pepper and Becca, frowning at her screen, keeping an eye on the security footage the same as him. She’d been on desk duty since she’d hit twelve weeks in the pregnancy, when the small but unmistakable baby bump became visible to everyone.

Thor had—understandably—been entirely unable to focus on the battles they fought while Becca was still in the field with them, and after he’d taken a harpoon to the arm because he’d been too busy covering Becca to cover his own ass, the rest of the team had voted unanimously to have Becca on desk duty for the rest of her pregnancy.

Becca, while grumpy, had not put up much of a fight about it.

“I’ve ran all the background checks imaginable on our informant though,” she replied calmly. “Nat and I went over all of the intel with a fine-tooth comb. It’s legit, Steve, you know that.”

Steve harrumphed grumpily and crossed his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t mean it’s not a trap,” he retorted, watching as Wanda ordered a cup of tea, keeping her—by now recognisable—face covered with the clever sweep of her hair and the slightly dramatic make-up she and Natasha had spent almost an hour applying. Pietro was hovering just out of sight in the alleyway, nearly vibrating out of his skin, as he always did when he had to stand still for longer than a few minutes.

“Oh, it’s definitely a trap,” Becca said in his ear cheerfully. “But that just means we’re making them nervous—means we’re closer than we thought we were.”

Steve sighed.

She was right, of course. The intel had come rather unexpectedly—while they’d been able to clear Sharon of the murder she’d been accused of, it’d been more by chance than by design of any kind. They’d stumbled across footage of Sharon at a gas station nearly forty miles away at the time of the murder, and through the footage several witnesses who swore she’d been there.

The matter had been dropped relatively quickly after that.

Still, whoever was running this show was good—good enough that Tony’s various algorithms and even J.A.R.V.I.S. hadn’t been able to pick up on much more than the vague pattern that Natasha had initially noticed. There were more cases like Sharon’s, and though the investigation against her had been dropped, and she had clearly had a lot of fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and all of the Avengers in her corner, there were a lot of rumors still flying around about Sharon’s supposed involvement with her informant’s untimely and rather gruesome death.

Steve still wasn’t sure how it’d benefit a shadowy terrorist organisation to discredit one agent—no matter how good Sharon was—but he assumed there was a reason.

There were at least half a dozen other cases that J.A.R.V.I.S. and Nat had flagged as suspicious that hit mysterious dead ends: one former A.I.M. scientist turned S.H.I.E.L.D. informant who’d been on the verge of revealing something big vanishing off the face of the Earth; a STRIKE team getting massacred after being given faulty information on an infiltration mission that should’ve been easy; and a U.S. senator who’d been known for her progressive style changing her tune entirely seemingly overnight…

Even the sudden suicide of a popular, if somewhat reclusive, wealthy murder mystery writer had pinged on their radars—the man had been researching the inner workings of police stations and its politics, and had, one week prior to his apparent suicide, rewritten his will to leave his entire family out of it, donating his entire estate, worth an estimated 60 million dollars, at least, to assorted police stations in his home state, and several police officers specifically.

Something was going on, on a large and likely unprecedented scale, and Steve wasn’t sure they were ready to figure out just how big this thing was.

They even had a mole in S.H.I.E.L.D.

One relatively high up the chain of command too, if the sort of information they had access to was any indication—Sharon’s real identity had been classified to hell and back for years. Her deep-cover missions were more intense than Natasha’s half the time, and she hadn’t gone by her own name for longer than a few weeks since she’d joined S.H.I.E.LD.

“All set,” Becca said quietly, breaking him from his musings, drawing his attention back to the security footage, showing Natasha having moved into position too.

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Here we go.”

He switched back to their shared comms channel and watched as Wanda added a sugar packet to her teacup with calculated, graceful movements, stirring the spoon in the hot liquid before she sipped, taking the time to glance around the square surreptitiously as she did.

He barely suppressed a proud smile as she clocked several hidden gunmen—two of which he hadn’t noticed himself—and whispered their location to her brother, who moved to get them out of the way before anyone could so much as blink.

“Alright,” he said into the comms as soon as Pietro had taken the men out of commission. “Good job, guys. Wanda, keep going; what do you see?”

“Standard beat cops,” Wanda said slowly, talking into her cup so no one would see her lips move. “Small station, quiet street. Pretty good target, I can see why they picked it.”

Steve nodded. “There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…”

“Cameras,” Wanda finished, glancing briefly towards the aforementioned corner before she returned her attention to the building in front of her. The info they’d gotten pointed to either the little police station or the Center for Infectious Diseases being hit by the as-of-yet nameless terrorist group they’d been chasing for the past six or so months.

Steve personally thought it’d be the CfID, not the little police station, but since the intel hadn’t been clear on it, they couldn’t risk losing their only chance to get their hands on whoever was planning this.

Especially considering they couldn’t find anything more concrete than a vague suspicion that things weren’t adding up. They—Pepper—had negotiated their presence there with the Nigerian government, keeping their interference on the absolute downlow.

Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. had been told.

“Both cross streets are one way,” Becca added over the comms, and Steve watched as Wanda and Pietro, once again hidden in the shadows, checked the street reflexively.

“Compromised escape route,” Pietro muttered, accent thicker still than his sister’s.

Steve nodded along. “Yep. Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen—not afraid to make a mess on the way out. A big departure from their usual M.O.”

It was true—these guys seemed to operate entirely from the shadows in every other way, and Steve wasn’t sure what it meant for them if they decided they were ready to step out of said shadows.

“It’s suspicious,” Becca insisted. “See that Range Rover halfway up the block, Wanda?”

“Yeah, the red one?” Wanda sipped her tea again. “It’s cute.”

Nat chuckled across the comms and said, “It’s also bulletproof. Probably private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for someone—probably us.”

“Plates aren’t registered,” Becca piped in. “J.A.R.V.I.S. is hacking into a few more databases to see if he can find that make and model listed anywhere, but it’s slow-going.” She huffed in annoyance. “There’s way too many red Range Rovers in Nigeria, what the hell.”

“Eyes on the target,” Steve reminded them sternly. “This is the best lead we’ve had in months. I don’t want to lose it.”

“Aye aye cap’n,” Natasha quipped semi-seriously, and Steve laughed along with the others despite himself.

“Tony’s almost there, in case you guys need him,” Becca reminded them, “and he’s being whiny about not being on the same comms channel, so if I let him in, will you play nice?”

Steve gasped playfully. “Why, Becca, I’m offended by the implication. I always play nice.”

“You’re a little shit, Rogers,” Becca told him, before something clicked and Tony’s voice became audible. “—and I mean, I can totally dig the seriousness of this mission, I’m cool, I’m just saying a little AC/DC never hurt anyone.”

“A little AC/DC would definitely hurt now,” Steve replied, eyeing the street before him again.

“Capsicle!” Tony exclaimed. “Congrats on the coming out! Papers are all over it. The U.S. is losing its shit. I applaud you, my good man. I’ll order you a cake when we get home. Bi-pride colors and everything. We can invite Aunt Peg and Aunt Becky. Also, I think FOX News is having a meltdown. Or going on lockdown. Not sure which would be more entertaining, honestly,” he hummed happily.

Steve stopped short. “What?”

“What?” Natasha and Wanda and Pietro echoed.

“Right,” Becca said slowly. “You left right after Chicago.”

Steve’s stomach sank. “Oh, fuck,” he said empathically.

Tony gasped theatrically. “Captain, language.”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve bit out, before sighing and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “How much of a headache is this gonna be? It just kinda slipped out.”

“Eh,” Tony said, surprisingly gentle. “I’ve caused bigger headaches. I think the conservative, racist part of the country is having a meltdown, because they can’t use you as a poster-boy for their ass backwards shit anymore, but most people are cool with it. Applauding you for being brave enough to come out for who you and Barnes were—and talking shit about the reporter that bullied you into making that grandiose speech in the first place.”

Steve groaned.

“Steve,” Becca said quietly. “You’re fine. No one is going to judge you, and people that do are really not worth your time or your consideration.”

“Uh,” Tony said. “While I totally agree, and hate to break up the moment… There’s a large group of people moving in the CfID—like abnormally. I can only see heat signatures, but I’m willing to bet these guys are armed. I’m thinking our terrorists might already be here.”

“Becca,” Steve barked, moving out the door and down the stairs of their look-out apartment before Tony had even stopped talking.

“Hacking into security cams now,” Becca replied immediately.

“Pietro, get Natasha and Wanda inside,” Steve ordered. “Then come back for me. Don’t be seen.”

“Yep,” Pietro said shortly, and Steve heard the slight rush of fast-moving air as the boy started moving.

By the time Steve’d reached street level, the other three were gone, and he barely had time to blink before Pietro blurred back into sight before him, grinning wildly. “Ready, Captain?” he asked, before putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders and moving.

The world blurred and moved, and his head spun wildly before Pietro came to a stop, hidden behind a large pillar, only a few feet from where Nat and Wanda stood, readying themselves for a fight.

Nat’s Widow’s Bites were sparking, and Wanda’s hands were already encased with that tell-tale ominous red energy. Steve checked that the straps of his shield were tight enough on his arm, and then nodded at the two women. “Definitely body armor. Possibly AR-15s—likely hand guns and knives too. I make seven hostiles,” he whispered, glancing towards the men dressed in black tac gear.

Natasha huffed and moved forwards, launching herself into the air by a graceful jump off a chair—she landed on two of the men, taking them down in a tangle of limbs and electric current, their choked off screams echoing eerily in the building.

Steve moved before the other men had had the chance to react to Nat’s sudden attack, lobbing the shield towards two of the other men, who had raised their guns to Nat immediately, knocking both of them clean off their feet. The man that stood next to them shouted in alarm, but before he could do so much as raise his gun, he was tackled to the ground by a blur of movement, and then fastened in place by an eerie red glow that spread, quickly, to encompass all other men, freezing their limbs in place.

“Good job,” Steve told Wanda when she appeared from behind the relative safety of the pillar, eyes glowing as red as the mist encompassing her hands.

“I can’t hold them long,” she told him calmly. “Natasha, you should cuff them so I can let go.”

Natasha was already moving, pulling handcuffs from wherever she managed to stash them in her skin tight outfit, when someone let out a strangled, “Stop!”

Steve spun around, finding one of the men had managed to move enough to pull his helmet off, revealing—

“Brock?” Steve said incredulously.

“What?” Becca demanded in his ear, as Natasha stepped up beside him, eyeing Brock Rumlow, who was held immobile by Wanda’s red magic in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, with a considering expression.

“What the fuck?” the other man demanded when Wanda released him after Steve nodded at her, collapsing on his knees before he managed to steady himself. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Natasha countered. “No one is supposed to be here.”

“We got a tip,” Rumlow spat. “Jesus, Romanoff, we’re meant to catch some terrorist group that the higher ups are really interested in. You better fucking hope you didn’t scare them away! Now fucking let my STRIKE guys loose.” He glared at Wanda, who bit her lip and looked at Steve first, waiting for his approval before she did as Rumlow said and released the other men.

A chorus of groans and muffled curses followed their release, and a small part of Steve felt a little smug that Wanda had been able to keep at least ten guys—a full fucking STRIKE team—down without visibly breaking a sweat.

Take that, every asshole who ever dared imply she didn’t deserve her spot on the team.

“He’s telling the truth,” Becca said hesitantly. “I’ve got the paperwork here. J.A.R.V.I.S. just hacked into the S.H.I.E.L.D. servers. Orders came straight from Maria—probably from Fury or Pierce before it came to her. It looks legit, Steve. They got the same tip we did.”

Steve exchanged a glance with Natasha, who had her arms crossed over her chest, staring down each of Rumlow’s STRIKE guys with a blank expression that he knew was tailor-made to scare the shit out of even the bravest of men. Judging by their expressions, Rumlow’s guys may not be the bravest of men.

She just lifted one eyebrow at him, and Becca suggested, “Maybe tell him some of the truth?”

Steve exhaled slowly.

“We also got a tip,” he told Rumlow. “Couple of hours ago. It came directly to us, seemed urgent. We contacted the Nigerian government directly and flew in. We didn’t want to risk losing these guys.”

Rumlow scoffed. “So urgent you couldn’t notify S.H.I.E.L.D. at all?”

“Tell him we told Fury,” Tony butted in. “Becca, J.A.R.V.I.S. will make it happen.”

Steve didn’t question their decision to fudge the truth. They’d established Avengers Black Op on this entire mission for a reason, and much as Steve enjoyed beating the man up during his mandatory hand-to-hand combat sessions, Brock did not make the cut for trusted individuals.

Not even Sharon had made the cut.

“We notified Fury,” he said, shrugging. “Didn’t hear back from him, and the Nigerian government had already given us permission to be here, so…”

“Damn it. They should’ve run it through us, man,” Brock grumbled. “Could’ve saved us this whole thing.” He glanced toward the two men Steve had knocked to the ground and the man Nat had tased with her Widow’s bites, and groaned. “Paperwork’s going to be a bitch.”

Steve hung his head.

He hated to say it, but Brock was right, damn it.

“Get them out,” Rumlow told Rollins, who Steve had worked with on occasion, and a fresh-faced kid who was likely a new recruit, gesturing to the three men that were still on the floor. “Make sure they get medical attention and that you’re not seen.” He glanced towards Steve and the others and heaved a sigh, “tell Hill we got back up from the Avengers.”

“Actually,” Becca drawled, “Hill just sent me an Avengers Assemble alert. Looks like there’s… something going on a couple of miles from where you guys are. Some guy called…” she hesitated and then snorted, “Killmonger? I dunno, he’s American special ops, but he called in for help not even a minute ago, something about a crazy man with voodoo powers taking out his whole team. We’re the closest back-up he’s got.”

Steve groaned. “Alright. Tony, fly ahead, scope out the situation, see what’s what. Pietro—”

“Aye aye, Cap,” the young man quipped, before pressing a lightning quick kiss to his sister’s cheek and blurring out of sight.

“We got an Assemble alert,” he told Rumlow reluctantly. “Becca’s informed S.H.I.E.L.D. you need more back-up, but if anything goes sideways, hail us, yeah? Pietro or Stark can be here before you can even blink if you need them.”

Rumlow nodded. “Yeah. Let’s hope we haven’t managed to chase away our mark.”

“Let’s hope not,” Steve agreed, before turning to Nat and Wanda, nodding his head towards the exit.

He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get their wires crossed so intensely, because he could’ve sworn J.A.R.V.I.S. had checked S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database for similar tips beforehand, but there wasn’t anything for it now. There was possibly something more going on, someone playing them all, pulling on their strings like they were nothing but puppets, but he didn’t have time to figure it out now.

Someone needed their help.

Rumlow, S.H.I.E.L.D., and everything else could wait.

———————

Fox News (@FoxNews) 36 min.

BREAKING: Captain America comes out of the closet? Has this national hero been lying to the country, or did he simply misspeak? Surely @captainRogers will clarify this misunderstanding soon.

Steve Rogers — Captain America (@CaptainRogers) 2 min.

@FoxNews Did I fucking stutter?

———————

Brooklyn V.A. Medical center, Brooklyn, New York, United States of America

April 20

, 2016Steve

Steve just barely managed to squeeze himself into the tiny little bathroom stall of the V.A. center with Becca, gamely holding his breath as well as Becca’s hair as she retched into the toilet after an unfortunate incident involving the snack table for the meeting and a stray sandwich with blue cheese.

“Ugh,” Becca groaned miserably, leaning back and wiping her mouth on a wad of toilet paper before dropping it in the toilet and flushing it. “I thought this part was supposed to be over.”

Steve smiled lightly and tugged her close so her head could rest back against his shoulder.

“From what I remember,” Steve said slowly, keeping his voice level and calm to help Becca calm down—because he remembered how much throwing up triggered Becca sometimes, and he knew how difficult the first few weeks of the pregnancy had been for her, how relieved she’d been when the morning sickness had finally abated—rubbing his hand over the swell of her stomach softly. “It can come up any time. My mom used to say it was because your senses are heightened, primed to notice anything that could be a danger to the baby.”

“That’s a nice thought, actually,” Becca nodded. “I don’t think I mind being sick if it keeps the baby safe.”

Steve smiled and leaned his cheek against Becca’s temple. “Well, I hope for your sake that you don’t have to be sick anymore.”

“Me too,” Becca hummed.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes before Becca gasped, suddenly, looking down at her belly with wide eyes. “Look,” she told him urgently, tugging on his arm urgently until he moved, and they were sitting opposite one another with their backs against the walls of the stall, Becca’s legs curled underneath her and Steve’s awkwardly stretched out.

Becca pulled up her shirt a little, revealing the pale expanse of her stomach, littered with little silvery stretch marks and a few dark, puckered marks that she tended to hide otherwise. Today, though, the marks seemed the last thing on Becca’s mind, because she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach again, just next to her belly button. “Look,” she insisted.

Steve dropped his eyes to her stomach as well, and he couldn’t really stop the gasp that fell from his lips when, suddenly, the outline of what was clearly a tiny foot pressed out into Becca’s skin just above his fingertips, remaining there for a few seconds before it disappeared again. “Shit,” he laughed, looking up at his friend with a grin, “that’s so weird. And cool.” He looked down again, but the little foot did not make another appearance. “You’re actually growing a person in there,” he added breathlessly.

Becca snorted and shoved at him. “What, did you think I stuffed a watermelon under my shirt before now? You’ve felt them kick before.” She elbowed him in the side and chuckled, “You’ve read more of the parenting books than any of us have.”

“Well,” Steve spluttered, a little embarrassed, “yeah. But this is different.”

Becca laughed again, but it wasn’t mean or mocking, and Steve grinned too, despite himself.

“Steven? Rebecca?”

Thor’s voice was loud enough to drift through the walls even when he was clearly trying to be quiet, and Steve grinned at Becca when she perked up immediately.

“In here,” Steve said, raising his voice just a little—Thor’s hearing was just as good, if not better than Steve’s—as he moved to help Becca back to her feet.

Thor pushed open the door to the bathroom and leaned on the doorjamb, smiling at them lightly, although his forehead was creased into a slightly concerned frown. “Everyone alright?” he asked casually, reaching out to Becca as soon as she was within reach.

Becca grimaced but nodded, leaning into Thor’s touch gratefully. “Blue cheese,” she said, nose wrinkling in disgust, and Thor made a small sound of comprehension, needing no further explanation after the last time Becca had encountered blue cheese in the common room of the Tower, and instead rubbing his hand over her back in a soothing gesture.

“You ready, Steve?” Becca asked, turning back to him with a grin.

“Born ready,” he said confidently.

——————

Steve was absolutely not ready.

He fidgeted, his hands trembling just shy of imperceptibly when he took the microphone from Sam. The room was about as filled as it usually was for the Thursday V.A. meeting, but the thought of ‘sharing’ still reminded him of the feeling he’d had when Senator Brandt had first thrust him into the spotlight on a stage somewhere in Philadelphia, when he’d wanted nothing more than to run away, to hide so no one could see him ever again.

He’d been wishing to be seen for most of his life at that point, had wished that people would see and notice him, but it’d been nothing like he’d thought it would be.

He’d made a promise to Sam though, and he wasn’t going to back out.

Becca and Thor were tucked into a corner of the room, Thor’s hands absently rubbing across Becca’s belly while Becca smiled encouragingly. She’d shared with the group the previous week, and it’d broken Steve up to hear, first-hand, the things people had done to her—before, during and after her capture—but she hadn’t been the only one.

There’d been a young man, too young to have the same kind of shadows lingering behind his eyes that they all seemed to, who came up to her afterwards, who thanked her for sharing, and for reminding them that… that it was possible to build a life afterwards.

That it was possible to learn how to live and be happy again.

Steve had diligently pretended Becca wasn’t crying when they walked home, but he’d held her hand and hugged her close when she’d asked him to anyway.

He’d told himself that sharing what had happened to him might help someone else. He’d told Sam the same, and Sam had held him to it, inviting him up to speak after everyone who’d volunteered had had their chance to speak, because “No one wants to follow your act, Rogers.”

Steve swallowed thickly and glanced at the expectant, curious faces of their group. “Hi,” he finally said, voice cracking with nerves. “I’m sure all of you know who I am.” He grinned lightly and added, “I usually lurk in the back with my friend, eating all of the donuts, like the creepers we actually are.”

That got a couple of scattered laughs, and Becca shot him a thumbs up from her corner.

Steve exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the lectern that stood at the front of the room. “I’m Steve,” he began. “I’m thirty-two, and I went to war when I was twenty-four, and sometimes it feels like I’ve never left it behind. Sometimes it feels like I never will.” There were a few understanding murmurs, and something loosened slightly in his chest.

He could do this.

“I went to war because I had to,” he continued, chewing on his lower lip. “Because there were good, healthy people dying on the front lines every day, fighting to defend us, our families, and I was dying anyway, so what right did I have to do any less than them?” He swallowed thickly. “I was dying anyway, and I wanted my death to have more meaning than my life had.”

The room had gone utterly silent, and Steve didn’t dare look up, for fear he’d lose his nerve.

“It’s a funny thing,” he continued, “to be so aware of your own mortality. I wasn’t even very angry about the unfairness of it anymore. Buck—my—the love of my life,” he admitted, still a little shy to be so public about something so private, “he was angry. He was the sweetest guy you’d ever meet, charming and handsome and kind, but he was so fucking angry at God and the universe and whatever else there was, because I was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do about it… and then they called him to war too.”

Steve blinked back a tear, a little startled by how emotional he felt, by how hard recalling the memories was. “And he went,” he said. “He went, and what else could I do than everything I could to either follow him, or to die trying?” He looked up, briefly catching Becca’s shiny eyes before his gaze fell to Sam. Sam, who’d supported him, who hadn’t let their rough start at a friendship get in the way—who understood in a way even Becca never had.

“The machine they used to give me all of this—” He gestured vaguely at his body. “It looked like a coffin.”

There were a few gasps from the group, but no one interrupted when he continued, “And I thought it would be mine. There had been seventeen test subjects before me.” He looked down. “I was the only one to ever survive, but I didn’t know that when I went in. I thought I was going to be number eighteen, the one they could hopefully learn from, so they could help people.”

“Obviously,” he said with a weak smile, “it worked. And I went, and I fought, tooth and nail, for the life I’d been real eager to leave behind, for Bucky and his sisters, for his family—my family. I fought for everyone that couldn’t, for everyone we’d already lost, and for once, I felt like a hero.” He stopped and looked down, noting that his hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold the microphone without hitting himself in the face.

“When Bucky—the mission we were on—” He shook his head and lowered the microphone, breathing in deeply to regain some measure of composure. Because, while no one here would judge him, he wouldn’t be able to finish if he let himself cry now. “He saved my life, like he always did, like he’d been doing since we were both four feet tall and getting into fights with people twice our size. I got knocked down and he picked up my shield, and—” Steve choked lightly, tears running down his cheeks despite his best efforts to hold them at bay. “We were both nearly blown off the side of the train,” he said hoarsely. “I thought—God, for a second, I thought I had him. He managed to hang on by a railing, and I was so close. His—his fingers brushed past mine when it broke off and he fell.”

The room was deathly silent, and when he looked up, he saw that several other people were nodding, crying, knowing. “I almost fell,” Steve admitted. “I almost fell too. Sometimes I wish I had.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before he whispered, “Grief… Grief is a funny thing. Grief shatters something inside of you that you didn’t know could shatter, and it seeps into the cracks, like water that slowly freezes, slowly expands into ice until it’s all you can feel—until you can’t even remember what it felt like to live without the cracks, without the grief filling up that space. I didn’t… after Bucky fell, I lost my mind a little. I froze… long before I put the Valkyrie in the ice. I fought, and I killed, and I didn’t care that I was doing it, because every single Hydra soldier was one that was responsible for the love of my life dying alone at the bottom of a ravine. The Valkyrie…” He shook his head and sighed. “Putting down the Valkyrie was a relief, because at least it meant that whatever was going to happen, Bucky would be waiting for me on the other side.”

He swallowed. “And then I woke up here. And whatever soul, whatever heart I had left, it shattered further; the grief, the ice spread further, because everyone was gone. Everyone I’d ever known, everyone I’d ever loved—even the country I’d died for. Everything.”

He exhaled shakily and looked up, meeting Becca’s teary gaze, and managing a weak smile.

“I made it through. I made it through because I still had family that needed me, that missed me, that knew me, and that refused to give up on me even when I had.” He deliberately looked at every member of their group. “Including the Valkyrie, I tried to take my own life six times. I tried to leave, tried to give up what Bucky had died to give me—and I still think about it sometimes. I’m not always okay. I sit out missions that I know will trigger me, I have three different therapists, and I have an unrelenting support network. I’m lucky—so many of us don’t have all of that. But I want you, at least, to know that you do as well. I’m just one man, even with my name and reputation, and there’s only so much I can do—but when any of us, any of you need support, even if it’s just a shoulder to cry on…”

He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “They’re a lot bigger and stronger than they used to be. I promise there’s room to help you shoulder your burden. I want you to know that you have that support. I thought I had no one for the longest time, even surrounded by friends and family, and I don’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

He looked down again and sighed. “The ice… the grief doesn’t go away,” he admitted. “Not really. But you learn. You learn to breathe with it, rather than against it, you learn how to cope, even when you can’t understand, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Even on days when it feels like you’ll never leave the war behind, even when things are at its bleakest, there’s going to be better days. There’s always people that’ll care, that’ll miss you, that’ll need you.”

He squared his jaw and promised, “And when you have no one, I’ll be your someone. We will be your people. We’ll miss you. We’ll need you, and we’ll drag you through hell, to show you how good life is on the other side. You’re never alone.”

——————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #Dancing in the rain #DitR #Stucky fanfiction #stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Thor #Rebecca Barnes #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanov #Pepper Potts #Avengers Family #my writing #Lisa writes

2 notes · View notes

peter-parkers-passport · 4 years

Text

Flower Child (Peter Parker x ofc)

Chapter 3: Strange Nights

warnings: language, depictions of anxiety, poor Lila not catching a break

To say that Lila was weirded out by the events of the night before would be a semi-inaccurate understatement. She wasn’t weirded out, to her, it was more comparable to meeting a celebrity. Like when Peter told her how he came home to Tony Stark sitting on his living room couch. Peter Parker walking through her house felt like playing out something that was supposed to stay in her head. And her dad was definitely not part of the picture.

Regardless, her dad made tomato basil as promised, and got acquainted with the boy Lila had been secretly crushing on for forever. Lila picked out a record from her mom’s collection (Sheer Heart Attack from Queen’s repertoire) and they all enjoyed the conversation that lasted through the evening. And for a while, Lila merely observed the two of them talking about a wide variety of topics. Content with only piping in here and there, it wasn’t until Peter started talking about Tony Stark’s clean energy initiative that Lila really started investing herself in the conversation. It was something she and her dad had talked about countless times, trying to incorporate several of Stark’s inventions into their store to minimize their carbon footprint. Peter listened with great and genuine interest, pitching several ideas to Ted and Lila about how to better involve the clean energy they wished to use. Dinner ended with Ted jotting notes down on a legal notepad as Peter spoke rather excitedly.

When it was time to do the dishes, it was mentioned that Peter’s aunt was May Parker, the woman the Landry family volunteered with on Sundays down at one of the local homeless shelters in Queens. Peter smiled a small, proud smile as Ted talked about how amazing her work was in the Queens community, how she was instrumental in keeping everyone close and friendly with each other. Almost bashfully, Peter repeatedly said thanks, knowing May would be thrilled to hear that. He was politely insistent that he help clean everything up, and it became an assembly line of dishwashing. Ted washed, Peter dried, and Lila placed them in the dishwasher. Lila thought the night was ending, until Peter asked if she had Mr. Puth for AP Literature. Peter missed the homework assignment for that day, and wondered if Lila had it written down somewhere. Which she did, it was in her planner, which was in her backpack, which was in her bedroom since they got home.

She anxiously led Peter down the hallway, furiously blushing as her dad mouthed to her to keep the door open, and walked into her bedroom. She silently thanked the Asgardians that she made her bed and pick up her room that morning before school. Peter looked around the room with a polite interest, noting the brick wall, the bed, the large desk, even larger bookshelf, and the record player perched in between. “You guys seem to really like record players,” He noted, walking further into the room. He could smell the faint notes of the candle that sat on Lila’s desk, and it didn’t go unnoticed the picture of the beautiful woman that matched all the other pictures around their house. This one was different, she had a little girl perched in her lap, both elegantly dressed, and they were looking at each other like they had the funniest secret between them in the whole world. When Peter looked back to Lila, he saw she was looking at the same picture.

“Yeah, my - my mom and dad kind of bonded over that stuff. I g-grew up on the sound, since they both had an extensive collection. And when records started coming back, I started building my own. It was - it was a way to feel closer to my mom.” She walked over to her bookshelf, where an entire shelf was dedicated to vinyl records. She pulled one out, smiling softly at the cover, and placed a record on the player. Soon, soft notes of trumpets filled the room. She then went over to her desk, where her backpack was sitting in her chair, very aware of Peter still looking around her room. In her mind, she was going over any and everything that could possibly be judged. Part of the reason why she kept her room minimally decorated was so she could avoid that-

“You’re into photography?”

Lila’s head whirled around, back to the bookshelf where Peter now stood. He held her camera in his hands, observing the model and its features as well. She blushed, gripping her planner tightly. “Yeah, uh - just a hobby. I like - I like looking back at how much New York’s changed just over the c-course of my life.”

“Do you mind?” Peter held up the camera, asking if he could look through her photos. She shook her head and invited him to sit down on her bed. She sat down on her desk chair and watched with bated breath as he looked through all her pictures. It wasn’t something she was embarrassed of, or felt they were very private, but she knew that Peter was an avid photographer, and felt that they were on too different of skill levels to be comparing each other’s work. Yet again, Lila was surprised by Peter’s kindness, for he smiled at every picture she took. “These pictures are really… happy. All of them.”

He looked back up at her, silently asking for an explanation. She shrugged, sighing as she thought about it. “Yeah, well, some photographers capitalize on pain, and anguish, and stuff that really m-matters. I guess... I think people sometimes forget that h-happiness matters too. I know all about - about anguish, and pain, and - and sadness. S-So I think it’s important to remember that happiness happens all around us. And I take happy pictures so I - so I remember that.” A look that Lila couldn’t read ran through Peter’s eyes, before a smile took over his features.

The pair spent the next hour talking about random topics before Peter had to leave. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that Peter almost forgot to get the homework assignment from Lila. And Lila didn’t even realize that her stutter lessened significantly over the course of the pair talking to each other.

*****

“One black coffee,” Lila declared as she held out a thermos to Michelle. She found her friend at the foot of the stairs, her hands moving across the pages of her sketchbook as she took on the morning scene. MJ glanced up, eyeing the coffee suspiciously, like Lila had slipped arsenic in it just because. She then looked up to Lila, who sighed, “My dad made some this morning. Apparently, he’s scheduled to provide arrangements for a charity event with the Osborn’s, and has to get started on it today. I asked him to save you some.” Michelle merely stared at Lila, and she took it as a need to fill the silence. “I didn’t have any, okay? I had some Earl Grey this morning.” A skeptical raise of the eyebrow made a huff pass Lila’s lips. “It was decaf.”

“It’s just that the last time-”

“I’m well aware of the last time I had caffeine,” Lila stated grumpily as Michelle took the thermos from her, savoring the drink. She was with Lila that Saturday in April, when Lila’s anxiety had taken a turn for the worse. It was nearing the anniversary of her mother’s death, and Lila was feeling not at all like herself. Michelle suggested coffee and a bookstore, trying to get her mind off of her troubles when she realized that it was a mistake. She’d left for a few minutes to look at sketchbooks when she found Delilah sobbing over a kitten calendar. Realizing that the caffeine probably only made things worse for her, Michelle made Lila promise that she’d cut it out of her life entirely. Lila agreed wholeheartedly, and hadn’t touched it since.

A honk sounded from behind them, and Lila turned around in time to see Peter narrowly avoid being hit by Flash Thompson’s expensive car. He greeted Peter in his usual fashion (“Sup, Penis Parker!”), and drove around to the parking lot. Silently cursing Flash out, and making sure to make their next tutoring session extra difficult, her eyes once again landed on Peter. She saw as he clenched his jaw, and took out his headphones. Walking over to the stairs, she gathered up her courage to say, “Good morning, Peter,” as he walked by her. He glanced to the side, and smiled softly at Lila, not forgetting what she told him about Flash yesterday. He waved to her, then to Michelle, and headed inside. Lila turned back around and looked to Michelle, blushing as she noticed MJ watching the whole interaction. “That was what the coffee was for.”

Michelle took a sip, “It was for Peter?”

“No, no, it was for you,” Lila tightened her ponytail before resting her hands on the straps of her backpack. She waited for Michelle to put her things away before heading up the stairs with her friend and into the school. “I just wanted to say thanks for pushing me to talk to Peter.”

“I didn’t push you to do anything of the sort. Talking to high school boys is pointless.” MJ’s locker was the closest to the two of them, and she pulled out everything she needed for her morning classes. She silently handed back the coffee to Lila to hold and placed her bag into her locker before shutting it. Taking the coffee from Lila, they headed down the hallway to her locker, so she could get ready for the day as well.

Lila smiled, knowing that Michelle had her quirks, and had her ways of being there for Lila, though she’d never outright admit it. This was one of them. “Thanks for knowing it’s not - it’s not pointless to me.” All she got in return was a nod.

*****

The next time Michelle showed that she was there for Lila was during lunch, when the two of them sat at the end of a table. On the opposite side were Peter and his friend, Ned Leeds, another boy Lila knew from academic decathlon. Michelle hadn’t taken her eyes off of her book save to drink out of her milk carton. Lila was working on her homework, occasionally eating some of the veggies and hummus she’d packed. She usually would’ve been editing something or other for Sophie’s podcast, or helping her dad with certain orders for the shops, but Liz Allan had mentioned that Lila might need to practice some more with the other teammates for nationals. She did an excellent job the day before, but Liz wanted to make sure she could be competitive in every aspect of what they were likely to be tested on. So there she sat, working on calculus homework across from her best friend.

Speaking of Liz Allan, she was busy working across the cafeteria, setting up homecoming posters and banners alike around the room. Lila would’ve thought nothing of it, but then Peter and Ned had to start talking to each other. Glancing over at the pair of them, they were sat next to each other rather than across like Lila and Michelle, and they both had awestruck expressions on their faces. Following their gaze back to Liz, Lila’s stomach sank. “Did Liz get a new top?”

“No,” Ned answered easily. “We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt.” The pair of them and Lila looked back over at Liz, who was sporting a very preppy sweater and jean skirt, paired with white high tops. There was nothing remotely outstanding about Liz’s cute outfit, but Lila couldn’t help but start feeling uncomfortable in her soft sweater and jeans, wondering why she didn’t start wearing cuter clothes…

“We should stop staring before it gets creepy, though,” Peter suggested, still not taking his eyes off Liz.

Michelle, who noticed Lila’s grip on her pencil tighten significantly, but otherwise showed no outward signs of distress or discomfort, looked over to the two boys. “Too late,” She said. The boys looked over to her and Lila, who was also looking at Michelle with a confused expression on her face. “You guys are losers.” If she felt the kick that Lila landed to her shin, she didn’t show it. She simply turned back to her book.

“But, then why do you sit with us?” Ned asked.

Looking back up at them, Michelle answered, “Because I don’t have any friends.”

If the boys weren’t bewildered before, they sure were at that statement. Both pairs of eyes slid to Lila, who still had a slightly wide-eyed look. A pale pink sat on her cheeks when they both looked at her until Ned looked back at Michelle. “I thought Lila was your friend.”

“Is she?” Michelle didn’t even bother to look up from her book at that statement. Peter and Ned both looked back to Lila, who merely offered a shrug in response. She was about to say something to them when her phone buzzed with a text from Sophie. She saw the time displayed on her phone and realized she had to leave if she wanted to talk to one of her teachers about some of the homework. She started putting everything away, but not before tapping Michelle’s foot with her own, much more gently this time, as a way of saying thanks for supporting her when she was letting her mind and her jealousy get the best of her. Then she scurried off out of the cafeteria.

*****

“Next question,” Liz said, staring between the two tables perched on the stage. She stood in front of them, note cards on her stand as she read them off. “What is the heaviest naturally-occurring element?”

Sat at one of the two tables were Abraham and Cindy, then Ned and Charles. Lila sat next to Michelle at the edge of the stage, both reading different books. Lila’s was still for school, while MJ’s was merely for fun. Although, she wasn’t sure how Of Human Bondage would be a book to read for fun, but who was Lila to judge. Charles, a boy with big glasses and an even bigger sense of humor, rang the bell on his table. “Hydrogen’s the lightest,” He answered confidently, before adding, “That’s not the question. Okay, yeah,” He went back to look at his notes, but the other table rang the bell. “Uranium!” Abraham answered, and Liz nodded approvingly.

“That is correct. Thank you, Abraham.” Abraham had a smug look on his face as they turned back to their notes. Lila’s gaze flickered over from Liz to Flash, who was sitting with his feet propped up and was reading what looked like a comic book. She saw Sally laying on the floor, feet in the air as she worked on her own homework. “Please open your books to page ten.”

Then finally, Lila’s stare caught on to Peter, talking in a hushed voice to Mr. Harrington. “... Because if Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.”

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark,” Flash said from across the way, the degrading tone of his voice not sitting well with Lila. It never did. The way Peter tensed, Lila could tell it didn’t sit well with him either. That made her feel worse.

“Wait. What’s happening?” Cindy asked, taking everyone’s attention and putting it on Peter and Mr. Harrington.

Sally answered, “Peter’s not coming to Washington.”

Everyone felt a tinge of dread. Peter was one of their strongest assets on the team, and everyone remembered how he dominated the physics question that stumped everyone else in a competition last year. Cindy was just the first to vocalize her dismay. “What? No, no, no, no, no.”

Abraham rang the bell. “Why not?”

“Really?” Liz added, trying her best to be nice but her disappointment came through over much else. “Right before nationals?”

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab,” Michelle pointed out, to everyone’s confusion. The only person who wasn’t confused was right next to her, and her eyes got big. Lila panicked briefly, for everyone started to stare at Michelle for saying that out loud, wondering why she knew that. She looked at her teammates at the tables, who were all unashamedly looking her way, waiting for her to elaborate. “I’m not obsessed with him, just very observant.”

It did little to comfort her teammates, but Lila blew out a breath of relief. She was the one who mentioned all of that to Michelle in passing. She said it just to talk about it, not caring if Michelle was really listening. Lila supposed it was a little comforting to know that MJ did, in fact, actually listen to her when she talked from time to time. But then her mind shifted back into worry, wondering why Peter decided he needed to quit the team when he’d already given Mr. Harrington a permission slip to go with them all to Washington.

“Flash, you’re in for Peter,” Liz said, giving one last pointed look to Peter before returning to her cards.

Flash shook his head, not looking up from his comic. “Oof, I don’t know. I’ve gotta check my calendar first. I’ve got a hot date with Black Widow coming up.”

A bell was rung, followed by Abraham’s voice. “That is false.”

“What did I tell you about using the bell for comedic purposes?” Mr. Harrington scolded, before resignedly telling Peter it was okay for missing. The rest of the team went back to their normal practices, interchanging people who sat at the tables so that everyone (except for Peter) could get a chance to practice. Lila was improving, even managing to answer a few questions herself, which Liz praised highly. And at the end of their time, Liz pulled Lila aside and told her how great of a job she was doing.

She would’ve felt proud of herself, but Lila noticed Peter slip out before most of the kids could get their stuff. She sent a quiet thanks to Liz before following him out of the door. The bell overhead rang, and students started leaving their classrooms, making the hallway noisy again. She caught up to Peter, feeling a sense of déjà vu that she had to ignore. Like always, Peter seemed to sense that Lila was right behind him, for he turned around. He was looking relatively impatient, and that made Lila feel more nervous about talking to him. “P-Peter.”

“What’s up, Lila?”

She couldn’t beat around the bush, for she was starting to see patterns that she herself struggled to avoid for years. “I just - I just wanted to make sure you’re o-okay.” She saw him tense up slightly, not making herself gain more confidence. “I know we’re not - we’re not really that c-close or anything, but you - you seem kind of off.”

It was Peter’s turn to seem kind of nervous. Scratching at the back of his head, he looked down at Lila. “Really? How - how do you figure?”

“Quitting marching band, q-quitting robotics lab, and now - and now the decathlon. I don’t-” Lila swallowed, knowing that if she could help, she had to do her best. “ - I don’t want to overstep any b-boundaries by asking this but, would any of this - any of this h-have to do with - with your Uncle Ben?”

Peter’s eyes widened in understanding, and he shook his head. “Oh, no, it’s not-”

But Lila was on too much of a roll to stop. “B-Because when my mom died, I quit a - a lot of stuff, t-too. I sh-shut myself off from a lot of things that could’ve r-really helped me - helped me cope. And I just want t-to make sure that you’re doing okay-” Peter put his hands on her shoulders, not knowing how else to interrupt her. But it instantly shut her up.

Peter retracted his hands, smiling softly. “Thanks, Lila. It’s not that. I’m just - I want my internship to lead to a real job someday, so I’ve been taking more time to focus on that instead. You know, picking up extra jobs over there, it’s just taking a lot more of my time.”

Lila nodded. “I get it, my dad’s shop takes up a lot of my time. And I really like helping out over there, so I get it. Just - just make sure you soak up your t-time in high school, being a k-kid. It isn’t a-all so bad.”

He seemed to think about it, Peter’s smile growing a bit bigger. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks again, Lila.”

“S-Sorry you couldn’t make it to Washington,” She said before waving goodbye to Peter.

*****

“Ugh, my brain has been chucked in the deep fryer, Lila. Not even the Avengers are gonna be able to save me.” Sophie folded her arms on top of the counter and rest her head, shutting her eyes in exhaustion. Lila stared on in amusement, before turning back to her corner of the store and continuing to sweep. Collecting the scattered soil and placing it in the trash bin, she walked over to where Sophie was sprawled out and stood across from her in a motherly manner. Checking the clock, she realized she had every right to.

It read half-past seven, half an hour after the store closed for the evening. “Don’t you have, like, a giant test this week?”

“Friday,” Sophie groaned, not even moving from her spot.

Lila clenched the broom handle tighter and sighed. She was by no means a bossy person, it didn’t ever sit well with her, but when it came to taking care of the people she loved, Lila spared no expense. “And you told me you hadn’t even edited your next Origin Story. That’s supposed to be up on Saturday.” Sophie lifted her head from her arms to glare at Lila. Ignoring it, Lila set the broom down and placed her hands on the counter. “Look, why don’t you just go home? You can send me the file for your episode and I’ll do the editing before Saturday. You need to study for your test.”

Sophie stood up straight, suddenly looking unsure. “But our dinner-”

“Let’s just save it for when I get back from the decathlon trip, and you’re done with your test. Y-You should go, Soph, I can close up shop. I’ve done it before.” Normally, it would’ve taken considerably more of an effort, but deep down, Lila knew Sophie was desperate. With a touch more goading, and assuring her that she would be fine to be by herself, Sophie left the store. Lila turned her phone’s music on as loud as it could go, and began wiping down the countertops. She then locked all of the necessary cabinets and doors before spritzing a few bouquets with a bit of water. Grabbing her backpack and putting her headphones in, Lila set the store’s alarm and left, locking the doors behind her. Checking the time, she noticed it was still before eight, and her stomach let out a low growl in protest of canceling her dinner with Sophie.

Lila walked to the corner, where Delmar’s bodega was thankfully still open. Taking her headphones out of her ears, she ventured into the empty shop, the chime of the bell signaling her entrance and echoing through the space. She heard a soft mewl come from the far side of the counter, and Lila eagerly walked over to pet the large cat. “Hey, Murph,” She cooed quietly, scratching behind the cat’s ears. His head leaned into her hand, and a soft purr tickled her fingers as they moved to scratch his chin. She almost didn’t hear Mr. Delmar walk into the room from the back, but as he did so, she glanced up and smiled softly.

“Lila Landry, a pleasure as always.” Mr. Delmar grinned at the girl. She returned the greeting, and strode along the outskirts of the store, picking up some toothpaste for her dad, which she knew he was running out of. She came back up to the front counter and ordered a sandwich to go. Mr. Delmar rang her up, a stern glint in his eyes. “Little late for you to be out. Shouldn’t you be at home?”

“I had to close up shop tonight, Sophie’s got a huge test this week,” Lila answered, scratching her wrist after she handed Mr. Delmar cash. She watched him count it out and open his till, preparing to say something else to her. However, Lila beat him to the punch. “Dad’s working late in Man-Manhattan tonight, the Ritz is apparently hosting the Osborn’s for some benefit tomorrow. And he wanted to get the final touch-ups in tonight.” It was effective enough to silence Mr. Delmar’s further questions, not that he really doubted her. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, and he knew that more than most.

After handing back the correct change to Lila, Mr. Delmar stated he’d head to the back to make the sandwich she’d ordered. Leaving her to her own devices, Lila quickly pulled out her phone and began unraveling her headphones and walking slowly around the store. She’d started placing the designated earbuds in each correct ear when she happened to look outside of Mr. Delmar’s shop. Catty-corner to the deli was a bank, which was usually closed before Landry’s was on weekdays.

Usually.

This time, when Lila looked over at the bank, it was full of people, as well as money flying everywhere. It reminded her for a brief moment of one of those machines that were at arcades, where tickets would fly up in a glass cage and the person inside would have to grab as many tickets within the time allotted. Only this time, the glass cage held four men with Avengers masks, and Spider-Man, who was being thrown around by a device of the likes Lila had never seen before. It was emitting a bluish light, and held Spider-Man in a suspended state that he seemed to struggle to get out of. Lila watched as another one of the men in a mask grabbed a shotgun, and she felt her blood go cold.

“Mr. Delmar!” She called with urgency, and she heard him stop working on her sandwich. “C-call 9-1-1, there’s - there’s… I don’t kn-know.” She saw Mr. Delmar in the corner of her vision stand next to her and observe what she had been staring at. Mr. Delmar was quicker to react than she was, and immediately yanked her back away from the glass doors. He rounded the counter and reached for the telephone that was charging in the corner. Dialing the police, he looked at Lila and sharply told her to stay away from the windows while he waited to be connected.

He nodded slightly when an operator picked up his call. He stepped closer to the doors to get a better look at what was going on and relayed what was going on into the phone. “Uh - Spider-Man is fighting the Avengers in a bank on 21st Street… No, no, they’re wearing masks that look like the Avengers… Do they have - yes, they are carrying weapons… I don’t… they’re robbing an ATM and there’s money everywhere-” He didn’t even have time to yell out in surprise when a vivid purple light shone through all the windows. Lila saw the light grow brighter before it crashed into Delmar’s, shattering the glass and making several things explode. The smell of smoke and dust filled her senses before a heavy shelf to the left collapsed on top of her, sending her small frame to the floor. A flare of pain radiated in her side before a rack of gummy worms went tumbling down, the edge of it hitting her in the head and knocking her out cold.

*****

By the time the laser had shut off, Peter was already sprinting towards the deli that was currently up in flames. Leaping over a pile of rubble, Peter glanced around, urgently looking for anyone in the store. “Hey, Mr. Delmar, you in here? Is anybody in here? Hello?” He didn’t have to search much longer, for Mr. Delmar was tucked in the corner, coughing on his share of smoke. Peter rushed over to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and hoisting him upright. Before Peter left, he noticed a ball of fur trembling under an overturned table. He swept Mr. Delmar’s cat up in his free arm, and rushed the pair out of the building.

Peter helped Mr. Delmar to the streetlamp just outside his deli, where he proceeded to cough violently as he breathed in the clean air. Peter kept trying to give him his cat when Mr. Delmar gripped onto his shoulder tightly. Due to the inability to form complete sentences while his lungs filtered out the smoke and dust, Peter couldn’t really understand what Mr. Delmar was trying to say. Leaning closer, he heard Mr. Delmar say, “Lila.”

“Lila?”

“Lila, she… closed her dad’s shop… came in for… still inside… Lila…” Peter’s blood ran cold. Staring down the street, he saw the darkened sign of Landry’s Flowers, remembering that it was merely a few doors down and realizing just what Mr. Delmar meant when he mentioned a Lila. Without hesitating, Peter shoved the cat into Mr. Delmar’s arms before heading back into the burning building.

“Delilah!” Peter shouted, coughing slightly as the smoke began to creep into his throat. His suit was clearing the building of any other people possibly present when his eyes came upon a figure on the ground. Surging forward, Peter saw her honey-colored hair before he saw her face, and noticed a large shelf covering most of her small figure. He lifted the shelf off of her, barely reading the screen in his suit explaining her head was injured due to another object hitting it, or that she had some kind of injury on her side. Once everything was clear around her, he gently shook her shoulder in an attempt to make sure she wasn’t as gravely hurt as it appeared.

After a few seconds of yelling her name and shaking her shoulder, Lila’s face scrunched up before she let out several coughs. She did her best to roll over onto her back, but she merely groaned in pain. Opening her eyes and blinking rapidly to stop them burning from the smoke, they landed on Peter in surprise. He leaned over her, subconsciously clearing the hair from her face. “Are you okay? Mr. Delmar, he - he told me you were in here. Can you stand up, Miss?”

“Lila,” She corrected, her voice laced with discomfort due to the pain taking over most of her attention. “I can’t - I can’t get up by myself. I need - it hurts.” Peter did his best to gently turn her over before he thrust an arm under her legs and another around her shoulders, carefully lifting her off the ground. It was slightly awkward, for her backpack was still on her back, but Peter managed to ignore it thanks to the multiple whimpers she let out. He tried not to cringe at the pained expression she wore, nor did he try and let the guilt settle in his stomach either. He should’ve been more careful-

“Mr. Delmar-” She started as Peter carried her out, but the man in question was already there, helping Lila stand up as Peter set her down. He stared at her for a few seconds and how she clutched her side while she coughed, but for the most part, she was intact. He stared back over at the bank, seeing the broken glass everywhere, but no sign of any of the bank robbers. Throwing his head back in exasperation, Peter sighed. He turned back around to double-check on Lila and Mr. Delmar, hearing the sirens of police cars creep closer and closer. Knowing that they would be just fine was all Peter needed before he was off, swinging down the street in the opposite direction, already calling Happy Hogan with information on the technology in the weapons used against him.

It did occur to him at some point that saving Lila Landry was the closest Peter had ever come to his two lives intersecting. The thought left him uneasy, and he was grateful to be in and out before anything could come of it. Just another close call for Peter. That is, until he came home, where his best friend found him crawling on the ceiling.

#spider-man #peter parker #spider-man fic #peter parker fic #spider-man x ofc #peter parker x ofc #mcu #mcu x ofc #marvel x ofc #slow burn #mine

5 notes · View notes

thisweekingundamwing · 5 years

Text

This Week in Gundam Wing (April 21-27, 2019)

GW Tumblr Fandom,

Here’s your weekly round-up from the folks at TWIGW! Be sure to show your creators some love. <333

–Mod LAM

Fanfiction

Salt (COMPLETE) by @ziggystarsandmars

Pairings: Duo x Wufei, Heero x Relena

Characters: Duo, Wufei, Heero, Trowa, Relena

Rating: MATURE

Tag / Warnings: Wufei's POV, Unhealthy Relationships, Post War Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, no Endless Waltz, Post-War, Explicit Language, Sex, Bad Decisions, everyone is broken

Summary: Three months after the events of Like Oxygen, Duo shows up on Wufei's doorstep. As familiar, dangerous patterns assert themselves, Wufei's left wondering if there is, or could be, anything between them beyond self-destructive desire.

Liaisons, Science Convention and Meetups by @terrablaze514

Pairings: Zechs x Noin, Dorothy x Relena, Okoye x W'Kabi

Characters: 5 pilots + Relena, Dorothy, Zechs, Noin, Hilde, Sally, Une, Marvel cast

Rating: General

Tag / Warnings: Gundam Wing x Black Panther Crossover, Birthday, California, Science Conventions, Engineering, Basketball, Wakandan Technology, Preventers (Gundam Wing)

Summary: It's Relena's 39th Birthday, and she pays Oakland California a visit for their Science Fair.

Earth Bound by @anaranesindanarie

Pairings: Duo x Quatre, Trowa x Duo x Quatre, Wufei x Heero

Characters: 5 pilots + Catherine Bloom

Rating: MATURE

Tag / Warnings: Supernatural, AU, Fantasy, Smut, Angst

Summary: Trapped in a human body, Duo Maxwell must uncover a way to unblock his powers before he finds everything ripped from him again. Who will pay the price? What will Duo decide? (for @fadedsepia)

Eldritch Holiday (Chapter 16) by @doctormegalomania

Pairings: Duo x Heero, Trowa x Quatre, Wufei x OC

Characters: Trowa, Quatre

Rating: EXPLICIT

Tag / Warnings: Horror, Body Horror, Occult, Comedy, Eventual Romance, Post-Break Up

Summary: Quatre sees Trowa. Trowa sees Quatre.

Don’t Come for Me Today by @doctormegalomania

Pairings: N/A

Characters: Heero, Duo

Rating: General

Tag / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Heero reflects on cookie baking and Duo swings by

Beneath (Chapter 5) by @duointherain

Pairings: Heero x Duo, Trowa x Quatre

Characters: Heero, Duo, Relena, Trowa, Quatre

Rating: Teen and Up

Tag / Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Monsters

Summary: The combat winds down, Relena asserts herself.

Duo and the Spark (Chapter 6) by @duointherain

Pairings: Heero x Duo

Characters: Heero, Duo, Wufei, The Doctor (Doctor Who)

Rating: General

Tag / Warnings: Doctor Who crossover

Summary: Duo, Wufei, and Heero are taken for a vacation :)

Forgiveness WIP by @softnocturne

Pairings: Trowa x Quatre

Characters: Trowa, Quatre, Dorothy

Rating: General

Tag / Warnings: Post-Canon

Summary: After the war, an unexpected guest disturbs the peace

Secret Mission by @lifeaftermeteor

Pairings: Wufei x Relena (off-screen)

Characters: Relena Darlian, Hilde Schbeiker

Rating: General / Teen and Up

Tag / Warnings: discussion of wedding night intimacy

Summary: Relena joins Hilde in L2 for a super special secret awesome mission—lingerie shopping

Fanart

James Clerk Maxwell (Frozen Teardrop) by @ksam7

Trowa Barton by @bluesquishylemon

How to Draw a Gundam by @marcedrawingart

Gundam by @freshthoughts2020

Quatre by @melisaongmiqin

Sneaky Trowa by @mecha-dyke

Duo Charm WIP by @gundayum

Duo Easter Bunny by @deathscythehell

Gundam Pilots Commission by @elfbingo

Several by @duointherain

Forgiveness

Abstract

Heero x Duo Hugs

Duo Maxwell

Other Fandom Works (Cosplay, Gunpla, Scans, etc.)

Quotes

On Eyebrows by @emilyvstheuniverse

Duo from Dynasty Warriors Gundam 3 by @murumokirby360

Not just a pretty face

Don’t make him mad

A few by @gundaaamn

Throwing Stones with Duo and Heero

Dodge Ball with Duo and Trowa

Standing Together with Duo and Heero (1x2)

Prepared for Winter with Heero, Trowa, and Quatre

@incorrectgundamwingquotes is still at it! My personal favorites:

Duo and Wufei on Advice and Criticism

Heero the Wingman (2x5)

Quatre Talks in His Sleep (3x4)

Wufei Droppin’ Truth (with Heero, Duo, Trowa)

Eau de Fireball (with Treize and Zechs)

Trowa, Duo, and B&E

Employee of the Month with Heero and Une

Headcanons

Wufei and Relena Alone Time by @lifeaftermeteor

Growing Up Without Parents by @terrablaze514

Duo Vibes and Heero’s Mug by @janaverse

Several Headcanon Asks by @theresareasonforthiswritingblog

As Animals

During a Break-In

Working at Home vs. Housework

Discussion on Colonies by @lemontrash and @ziggystarsandmars

Gunpla

Deathscythe by @rx-79bluedestiny

Gundam WIP by @christianmswanson

Images 1 / Images 2

Video 1 / Video 2 / Video 3

Custom Decals

Screencaps by @clair-audients

Classic Colonel Une

Duo and Heero

GOL Scans by @disturbed02girl

Duo and Quatre

Dorothy, Zechs, and Relena

Trowa and Catherine

Hilde Schbeiker

The band’s back together

Swag Shared by @gundayum

Duo Charm

Deathscythe Patch

Hilde Buttons

Other Buttons

Edits and Macros

Full Scholarship by @janaverse

Weepinduo by @gundaaamn

Calendar Events

Cocktail Fridays with @gwcocktailfriday

Post responses on Friday between 3-5PM!

This week’s prompt is here

The Rhythm Generation Zine will be released on May 4!

Zine is FREE and will be released as a PDF. To receive a copy, please be sure to sign up via the Mailing List Form!

Follow @acworldbuildingzine for updates!

Get ready for a Zechs-y Summer with @seasons-of-gundamwing

VOTE HERE for the week to hold the event

VOTE HERE for the event prompts

More details can be found here.

Mini Bang planned by @thisweekingundamevents

Logistics roll-ups can be found here and here

Gundam Wing Bingo is gearing up at @gundam-wing-bingo

Be sure to send them your tropes and ideas for the event!

#gundam wing

22 notes · View notes

renegadewangs · 5 years

Text

Ace Mindhunter - 2nd Interview

Characters: Simon Blackquill, Athena Cykes, Shi-Long Lang, and a rogues gallery of AA villains. Fandom: Ace Attorney Pairings: N/A. Warnings/rating: 16+, I would say. Talk of heavy themes such as death and abuse, plus cursing. Spoilers for every AA game up to Spirit of Justice, AAI2 included. Gratuitous amounts of headcanon for antagonists. Summary: Simon Blackquill is roped into a Behavioral Analysis project along with Athena Cykes. They must sit down with convicted murderers for interviews, in hopes of finding out just what drove them to their convoluted crimes.

2nd Interview Roger

Date: June 9th 2028 Time: 2:21 PM Location: Interview Room. Another day, another interview. Much as Simon had protested, Athena had stood her ground. She wished to be a part of this project and now that she'd drawn the answers out of Vasquez where Simon had failed, there was no way to argue. If there were ever an early interview which would have her lose her nerve, today's subject would be the one to do it. They'd gone from one TV producer to another, this one a familiar face to Athena. He'd been tossed into prison quite recently, on the 28th of April, four months after Simon had left it. This inmate had not killed out of self-defense. It had been premeditated, vindictive and as convoluted as things tended to get around L.A. these days. The perfect subject for a closer examination. They had been kept waiting for over twenty minutes already when at last a guard entered the room from the inmate's side. “The Ratings Rajah will see you now,” the guard said, acting as if he were announcing the entry of royalty. “This should be good,” Simon heard Athena mutter under her breath. Despite never having been one to regard the muck produced by Take-2 TV, the man who walked into the room was exactly the sort Simon would picture to be behind it all. Greasy hair, a smug grin, a raised eyebrow, sunglasses even within a dark room... He was as different from Vasquez as could be. While his beady eyes flicked to Athena for an instant, he seemed unbothered to be faced with one of the defense attorneys who'd caused his downfall. After sitting down, he leaned his chair back and put his feet up on the table. “Hang loose, babies! Let's make this quick, yeah? I'm a busy man,” Retinz said. “Are you really?” Athena asked in turn, glaring at him. “Is that your first question? Eesh. This is why I don't leave interviews to amateurs. Need me to take charge instead?” Retinz reached for the list of prepared questions, but Simon slid it out of his reach and instead gestured to the tape recorder. “Before any of that, do you mind if we record this?” “Mind if I do?” Retinz pulled a camcorder out of his sleeve and directed it at Simon's face, grinning. “Sorry,” said the guard, who'd remained by the door. “He's not allowed to have things like that, but he keeps hiding them somehow. We just can't figure out where he's keeping it all.” “Magician's secret, I suppose,” Athena grumbled. “Ever heard of enunciation?” Retinz asked her. “Better speak up, unless you want your audience to deal with subtitles.” “You'd best put that camera away before I remove your hand with it. There will be no more coin tricks for you when you're without fingers,” Simon said. Retinz promptly made his camcorder disappear again. “So what's this interview all about? Are you writing an article about how right I was? Have you come to apologize for slandering my good name?” “Ugh...” Athena looked almost nauseous. She pulled herself together again with impressive speed, though. “We're here on behalf of Interpol's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We'll be asking you about your family history, antecedent behavior and thought patterns surrounding the crime you have committed. Our goal is to compile several psychological profiles and, ultimately, use them to create a statistical analysis which will not include your name. What you discuss with us is subject to Interpol's confidentiality clause and cannot be used against you in your applications for parole.” “So this is... What, a science project for school?” Retinz asked. “Interpol,” Athena snapped at him. “Potato, tomato.” Athena puffed up her cheeks with indignation. Simon decided that he would allow her to take the lead again for now, as this experience would either toughen her hide or break her determination to go through with the project. “We'd like to talk about where you were born and raised.” Athena opened her folder to glimpse down at Retinz's profile. “It says here you lived in Wichita until you were sixteen years old?” Retinz made a very loud noise, similar to a game show's buzzer. “Kansas? No, no, what kinda mook do you take me for? Haven't you watched any of my shows? Born and raised in Brooklyn!” “There's no government record of you ever living in Brooklyn.” “Who cares about records? Didn't I just tell you? It's all explained in my shows.” “... So you're lying to your audience,” Athena concluded, pursing her lips together. Retinz waved a dismissive hand at her. “Talk about greenhorns... Don't you know nobody cares about the truth? They get enough of that from their own lives. People watch TV so the flashy, mindblowing fiction can distract them from all that.” “That sounds rather like a magician's misdirection,” Simon pointed out. “It's a producer's bread and butter. Besides, anyone can do a bit of trickery on TV. All it takes is clever editing, a green screen here and there, some hapless acting... It's all easy gimmicks.” Retinz glanced towards the far wall, his gaze hardening. “... A magician's deception takes hard work and passion. Only a filthy criminal could have that sort of talent.” “A criminal such as yourself?” Athena asked him. “What are you saaaying? You'd better wash your mouth out with soap right now, Missy!” Retinz proclaimed, raising both hands in a defensive manner. “Are you kidding me right now?! I was there when it all went down in the courtroom, remember? We exposed you as a killer!” “You sure that was me? Maybe I had a twin, like those cute magician girls.” Athena looked ready to boil over. As for Simon, he saw an opportunity and took it. “Hold on. Only a moment ago, you stated that only a filthy criminal could have the talent necessary to be a magician. Yet now you refer to cute magicians?” “Those wannabes weren't real magicians. No talent. Zilch,” Retinz stated. “That's why they were piggybacking off Little Miss Wright, see.” “Right, speaking of your grudge against Trucy Wright-” Athena began, only to be interrupted. “Grudge? What gruuudge?” “The one that landed you in here!” “Don't know what you're talking about. I've got better things to do than project resentment onto little girls. Makes for a great TV show, though! Exactly the sort of fiction people are searching for in their mundane lives! Maybe you're not a lost cause after all.” “Oh, uh...” Retinz pulled a phone out of his pocket and promptly began typing, muttering to himself. “Defense attorneys make for great script writers. They sure can spin some interesting delusions, LOL! Smiley face... Hashtag Wright Anything Losers... Aaand post!” Simon glanced at the guard, who took a single step towards Retinz. There was no point, though, as the phone had already vanished by the time the second step was taken. Simon wondered just how many followers Retinz still had on social media and made a note to find out. A live feed directly from prison and the support it might gain could add to their research. “That's slander...” Athena huffed. “Talk to me about slander when you're stuck in death row for a murder you didn't do, yeah?” Athena leaned back in her chair, lost as could be. Simon didn't blame her. This sort of denial would usually only be found on the witness stand. To have it continue even after conviction... Well, it made for an interesting sub-category within their study, to say the least. “So tell me, Mr. Greasy Producer,” Simon began, “why are you in here?” “I was framed by the competition, obviously. Take-3 TV hates my guts. Might've even teamed up with Trucy Wright- you know. The real killer.” Athena made a move as if she were about to tear Retinz's head off, so Simon held her back with one hand. Even as he did so, he watched their subject's reactions very closely. “So all those testimonies of what people have seen and heard in the courtroom during the Wright trial... Those were all fabricated?” “Oh, you bet. I'd tell you to ask the girl sitting right next to you, but she's good buddies with Trucy. She won't take my side, believe you me.” “I see that you've requested an appeal of your case several times.” “And I will keep asking until I get it.” “This is pointless,” Athena said quite abruptly, slamming the folder shut and rising to her feet. “We're not going to get anything out of him. Let's just go.” For all of four seconds, Simon assumed her claims to be a bluff. Some trick to get Retinz talking. That was thrown into question when she left the room and didn't return. Indeed, this interview had broken her determination, just as he'd wished. Why, then, did it leave him feeling defeated? “Excuse me. We will continue this interview tomorrow.” Simon got up from his chair as well, stopping the recording process. Retreat was indeed the best strategy for now. Retinz grinned up at him, looking every bit the victor. “Hey, bring some good coffee next time, will you? None of that machine sludge they try to poison me with in here. I need a hit of a brand name, like Bunny's Caffé or Starbills.” “... Duly noted.” ------- Date: June 9th 2028 Time: 2:31 PM Location: Detention Center. Athena was storming through the detention center and towards the prison's exit so fast, Simon would have trouble keeping up if he were a lesser man. He caught up to her just before she reached the door and while he used very little force, he grabbed her arm all the same. “Hold it.” “I'm not going back in there,” Athena insisted, whirling round to face him. “Let's just tell Lang it's a waste of time. Because it is. How are we supposed to ask him about his childhood if he's just going to lie about it? And how will we find out anything about his thoughts during the murder if he keeps insisting he didn't do it?” “The denial is, in itself, something worth investigating. Where does it stem from? How does it sustain itself within his mind? Are you not curious?” “I... Maybe. Or maybe he's just acting like that to piss us off. A skeevy guy like him would know all about acting, right?” Athena glanced down towards the ground, then back up at Simon, as if hoping for his confirmation. “The only way to be certain is to continue the interview. I've told him that we will return tomorrow and we had best plot out a strategy before then.” Athena grinned and pumped a fist. “Oooh, so you're on board with me helping you out after all?” “... I believe that the daughter of Metis Cykes would not be defeated by a mere hustler of a magician. You must stand tall and if that means you would walk into a room with a killer willingly, I will stand by your side.” “Aww, that's sweet. Thanks, Simon.” Athena nudged his upper arm. “The two of us together, we'll crack this guy. Or just his ribs. Either one.” They retreated into a corner of the detention center's waiting area, where several couches and coffee tables were gathered. Simon made sure to look so very gloomy and ill-tempered, no one would come within twenty feet of them while they discussed more sensitive matters. “So how do we get him to say something that isn't nonsense?” Athena asked. “Perhaps we can begin by asking him about the victim. He knew that unfortunate wannabe magician long before the murder. Perhaps something worthwhile will spill out.” “Oh, I'm sure he'll offer his sincere condolences and make sure we've recorded it. And then he'll try to use it as evidence if he ever gets an appeal,” Athena huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “We all know he did it! Who does he think he's fooling?” Simon mulled it over for a moment. Seven years in prison had left his views on psychology rusty, and he believed it best that Lang never find out about that, or else he'd risk losing his chance to meet with the Phantom. For now, he had to focus and get those old gears grinding again. “I don't believe his words to be hot air. Not entirely, anyway. Indeed, everyone knows he committed the crime, so there is only one person left to fool.” “Who would that be?” “Himself, of course. He shows signs of emotional detachment, not only towards the crime but towards his past. Furthermore, while his mind associates accomplished magicians with criminals, recall his reactions when accused of being either one.” “... He deflected.” “Precisely. Perhaps we should not be speaking to Roger Retinz, the Ratings Rajah. Instead, we ought to find a way to converse with Mr. Reus.” ------- Date: June 10th 2028 Time: 2:18 PM Location: Interview Room. Once again, they'd been kept waiting for almost twenty minutes when at last Retinz walked in with a casual stride. Once again, he tilted his chair back and allowed his feet to rest on the table. His eyes moved towards a cup on the table. “... Bunny's Caffé?” “Indeed. You failed to specify what sort of coffee you wanted. I've decided that you are a double espresso man and if you don't like it, you will not be a coffee man at all,” Simon said, smirking. “Double espresso is exactly on the nose. Thanks, man. At least someone here has good manners.” Retinz made sure to shoot a filthy look towards Athena, then he took the espresso and drained it without so much as a second thought. Simon wondered vaguely whether he had built up an immunity to caffeine over the years or whether he'd just given himself a sleepless night. “We'd like to try, once again, to go over this list of questions with you. It is imperative that we gain better insight into your history and motives.” “Why? Your little pet project is about killers, right? You've got the wrong person. I'd suggest you pay Trucy Wright a visit instead.” While Athena's fingers tensed, she said nothing. Simon drew a steadying breath of his own before continuing. “First of all, it's imperative that we establish something else. That is, are you the magician known as Mr. Reus?” “Whaaat?” Retinz went from faux surprise to a dismissive attitude so fast, it could've given him vertigo. “Don't you know anything? Manov Mistree was Mr. Reus. He's dead now.” “Then, I will rephrase the question. Were you, at any given point in time, Mr. Reus?” Retinz clammed up immediately. There was no acting, no snide comebacks, nothing. What did happen was that the man reached for his right arm, where a scar was meant to be. Ready to deal the final blow, Simon pulled a handful of change from his pocket and placed it in front of Retinz. “What is...?” the man asked. He moved into some sort of stiff disdain. “You think I'm so down on my luck that I need your charity? Don't be ridiculous.” “A few coin tricks, if you please. As I was unable to play the part of audience during the Wright trial, I've heard no more than tales.” “If you want to see your coins disappear, just give them to a hobo. Or Little Miss Trucy.” “Quite right, anyone can make coins disappear. Only the Great Mr. Reus possesses the skill to perform the finest coin tricks in the world. Tricks of legend.” For a few seconds, Retinz seemed almost hesitant. Then something changed at the drop of a hat- or a facade. His gaze hardened and just like that, he was a whole other person. He took several coins in hand, clenched his fist, then they were gone. He stretched out all his fingers to show off his empty palm. Next, he held up his other hand, where the coins were spread out quite neatly between his fingers. “... Now, check behind your right ear.” Simon frowned, did as he was told and found another coin there, kept in place by his untidy hair. “How's that for a magic trick? I could have a coin appear anywhere on your body if I wanted to, but there's certain lines I don't dare cross. You don't seem the type who would laugh about it.” “Mr. Reus, I presume?” “The one and only. We accept no more imitations or substitutes.” Athena's jaw must've dropped at some point, for Simon looked her way just in time to see that she was closing her mouth again. “Oh... Well. All right, then.” “I would like to ask, once more, for your truthful participation. Are you prepared to answer our questions?” Reus clenched his hand together and tilted it, so that he could flick a coin into the air with his thumb. He caught it quite deftly. “Ask away.” “You were born and raised in Wichita, where you lived until you were sixteen years old, is that correct or isn't it?” “Bingo.” “Tell us about your parents.” “They were poor. Dirt poor. We lived in a run-down little shack. Pops was unemployed and drunk, mom was packing groceries at the deli.” “Did you have any siblings?” “Nope, it was just me. Probably for the best, because three was already a crowd in that hovel of a house.” “You didn't get along with your parents?” “Nope.” While Athena was attempting to stay out of the conversation, her pen was scritching against the paper. Simon didn't want to ask his next question in front of her, but knew that he had no choice. Regardless, he would be a hypocrite for assuming that she wouldn't be strong enough to handle this sort of thing. He'd already made his decision when he stopped Athena from leaving the detention center only a day ago. A deep breath, then he posed the query. “Did they abuse you?” “Sounds like this interview's turning into a dumpsterfire. Don't get too close, or you might get burned,” Reus proclaimed. He stopped flipping his coin and held it in the palm of his fist. When next he opened his hand, there were several inches of flames. The glow of the miniature fire was so bright that the lenses of Reus's sunglasses became obscured. The guard, who had once again been standing ready by the door, appeared both unnerved and unwilling to act. So much for the strong arm of the law. “Whoah, whoah! Take it easy, Jafar!” Athena called at him. It seemed as if Reus needed just a bit more incentive to speak. One more gimmick to open up to them. Simon reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a deck of cards. It was placed before the magician, drawing his attention without further ado. “Go on. Take them,” Simon urged. “I assure you, it's a complete deck.” A pause, then the flame in Reus's palm disappeared. He began to shuffle the cards in the most expert manner Simon had ever seen, even going so far as to shoot the deck from one hand into the other and back again. The whole ordeal turned into something of a blur. Finally, Reus held the deck face-down looked him square in the eye. “Name a card off the top of your head.” “... The Ace of Spades,” Simon said. Reus lifted the top card off the deck and placed it face-up on the table. It was the Ace of Spades. “Now you, Missy,” he told Athena. “Uuuhh... The Five of Hearts?” Reus lifted the next card off the deck and that one, too, was exactly as foretold. Athena smacked a hand down on the table. “Wait, no! I changed my mind! I want the Four of Diamonds!” Reus took the Five of Hearts with his free hand, spun it around on his fingertip, then placed it back down. It was now no longer the Five of Hearts, it was the Four of Diamonds. “It is done.” “Maaaaan... That's impossible.” Athena said, and Simon didn't need her special ability to hear the envy in her voice. Reus slid the two cards back into the deck, then began to shuffle again. He looked quite content as he did so, perhaps even comfortable. He was in his element, which was exactly as Simon had planned it. “My Pops,” Reus began, placing down the King of Clubs for them as if it were a tarot card, “was King of the castle. He was the one who would lay down the law and he would punish accordingly. That law depended on his mood. On a bad day, he'd knock the stuffing outta me just for breathing too loudly.” Simon was forced to consider the possibility that this was yet another 'fiction' tailored to a certain audience. Without a doubt, this sort of story held fitting notes to those attempting to compose the melody of a psychological profile. Still, the look on Reus's face gave the whole thing credibility. It was grim and real. “What did your mother say about that?” “Mom... was his devoted Queen.” Reus laid the Queen of Hearts out next to the King, then placed a Joker neatly below the two of them. “She had no problems with the hierarchy because the law didn't apply to her. She kept saying Pops had it rough because he was having such a hard time finding a job, and if he took it out on me it was my own fault. Somehow, everything was always my fault. Somehow, I was the failure.” “That sounds like a tense atmosphere for a child.” “No kidding. Pops said he didn't want me around, so I didn't stick around. I was outside the house more often than inside, hiding and practicing magic tricks.” Reus slipped the Joker back into the deck of cards first, shuffled, then snatched up remaining two to complete the collection again. With that, he went right back to absentminded shuffling. “What exactly about magic was it that drew your attention?” Athena asked, now a bit more sympathetic and willing to tend to business than before. “A magician could do anything and overcome anything. No limits. Being sawed in half was no problem, being tied up with chains and stuck in a dunk tank was no problem, being trapped in a cage and then run through with swords was no problem... They could make a yacht disappear, they could teleport across the stage, they could read your mind... When I was a kid, I thought magicians were the most powerful beings in the world.” Simon tapped his pen against the paper, thinking it over. “And they could never be hurt, correct?” The cards Reus had been holding sprang into the air and scattered all over. He recoiled, once again reaching for his scarred arm as if he'd just been burned in that very specific spot. “W-Well... Only the very best, obviously.” “So when you were sixteen, you left your home and attempted to make a name for yourself as Mr. Reus.” “Right. Naive youngster that I was, I had my sights set on the Gramarye Troupe.” Reus returned to flipping a coin as he spoke, each time catching it with such a nimble motion of the fingers that it didn't land so much as transition straight into its next jump. “By the time I was twenty, they'd already welcomed me into their midst. Bunch of miserable traitors that they were...! I gave several years of my life to them- gave them everything I had to give and they dropped me like I was nothing! My burning passion was nothing but a sad little smoulder in their eyes!” “... I've heard tales that Magnifi cast you out after a single mishap and none of the other Gramaryes stuck up for you.” “That's saying it lightly. Magnifi humiliated me and soured the name of the Great Mr. Reus for years to come. Anyone who believes Troupe Gramarye was a family is dead wrong. Every single one of the old man's students was fighting for their own reputation and I didn't see it until that incident opened my eyes. That's when I learned you can't trust anyone in this world- least of all magicians.” “And yet... You did not exact any sort of revenge until many years later. Not until Trucy Wright announced her plans of a Gramarye revival. What prompted you to act at that time, when you had been living a perfectly content life away from magic for almost thirteen years already?” “Magnifi and his accomplices got their due without my interference. A year after I was dismissed, Thalassa pulled a vanishing act of her own- some say she got hurt while practicing a magic act, just as I did, so Magnifi made his failure of a daughter disappear. A few years later, the old man croaked, Zak took the fall for his murder and Valant was effectively castrated. I thought the Gramarye name was dead and buried, so I made peace with it. That is, until she appeared.” “Trucy Wright?” Simon frowned and sat back in his chair. “Even if she wanted to revive the Gramarye name, she had nothing to do with your disgrace. She was only a young lass at the time.” Reus slammed his hand down on the table quite suddenly and while the fire in his hand had long gone out, it was still in his eyes. “She has the Gramarye blood and she flaunted the name! Trucy in Gramarye Land, indeed! What a joke! She even wanted to drag Mr. Reus into that disaster of a publicity stunt! Over my dead body!” “At that point, you were no longer Mr. Reus,” Athena said with a bit of a scoff. “It was Manov Mistree's decision to make, and so... It was over his dead body. You made sure of that.” “Don't you sit there and judge me, missy! A pipsqueak like you could never understand this all-consuming fire; this need for revenge. Trucy Wright is doomed to be every bit the criminal her parents and grandpappy were. If she isn't already, she will be some day, you mark my words!” While Athena might've huffed at Reus's attitude even further, something held her back. It was the emotion, perhaps, to the man's words. Widget was alternating between blue and red around her neck. “Do you believe,” Simon began, “that the sins of the parents carry into their children? That blood ties limit a person's potential by tying them down?” “Absolutely.” “Then, what of your own parents? Do you believe they set you on a path you could no longer stray from?” “... Ayep. I reckon they did.” “Have they come to see you after you gained a name for yourself? The Ratings Rajah was a big deal, after all.” “Oh, they hunted me down, all right.” A mean smirk appeared on Reus's face, implying he was delighted by the memory rather than horrified. “They came right up to my penthouse, packed bags by their side, asking for money and a place to stay.” “What did you say to them?” Reus took the empty espresso cup and held it between both hands, then pressed his palms together. While Simon had definitely seen the cup crumple under all that pressure, the remains had vanished when Reus pulled his hands apart again. So long as there was magic in this world, who would have need for a trash can? “Nothing. I laughed and slammed the door shut in their faces. What goes around, comes around, right?” he stated with no end to his amusement. With that, Simon considered the interview an official success; they'd learned quite a bit about what had driven Roger Retinz to premeditated murder. All it had cost him was a handful of change and a deck of cards. Applying that knowledge in practice was a whole other matter, but at the very least, they could present results to Lang. Athena must not have been quite satisfied yet, for she looked through the papers and chose another angle of attack. “If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to the topic of Manov Mistree for a bit,” she stated. “As I understand it, he was a big fan of the original Mr. Reus and you happened to learn of that by chance. Instead of ignoring that bit of your past, you revealed yourself to him and made him your apprentice. Why was that?” “Why indeed?” Reus asked, and while it might've been taken as sarcastic, the furrowing of his brow suggested that he was wondering in earnest. He went back to flipping his coin again. “... Maybe I was feeling vindictive. Maybe I wanted Mr. Reus to have one last bit of glory and I didn't care who I had to corrupt in order to get it.” “You believe that you corrupted Mr. Mistree?” “Of course. Such a bright-eyed, optimistic, gullible guy... Not the brightest bulb in the shop, but he was determined to learn. He could've been anything else, really, but he wanted to be a magician so badly. If he hadn't dreamed those foolish dreams, he wouldn't have met such a sticky end.” “And only a criminal could have a knack for deceiving people the way a magician does, hm?” Athena mused aloud. “So what was your relationship with Mr. Mistree like? Did you encourage him to follow his dreams or did you warn him about what it took to be the real deal?” “Oh, I did everything Magnifi refused to do for me. I gave him pats on the back and complimented his progress; the whole good mentor shebang. He ate it up. Never seen anyone more thirsty for approval and boy did he get it.” Simon's gaze flickered towards Athena, then back to Reus. “Did you take advantage of Mistree's adoration?” “You're gonna have to be more specific, pal.” “Did you engage in acts of a sexual nature with him?” “A guy like me, who's constantly surrounded by bikini babes in the studio? You've got some guts, asking me a question like that.” “Yet, you fail to answer.” Reus flicked several coins through the fingers of his left hand. Athena squeaked out of nowhere and hopped up from her chair. The Five of Hearts was pulled out of her boot and impressive as the trick had been, neither herself nor Simon was amused. They both made that clear through their furious expressions, which were all but ignored. “... I did at first,” Reus ultimately admitted, now flipping a coin along the back of his hand from finger to finger. When he caught sight of the look on Athena's face, he tutted. “Don't you worry, I didn't do anything he wasn't into. He was the one taking charge, not me. Took him out to dinner and everything, too. Burger Barn.” “Seriously? All that money, and you take the guy you're sleeping with to Burger Barn?” Athena's disgust reached a whole new low. As for Simon, he was of the opinion that Retinz's cheap nature was the least of his crimes. “Yeah, that really should've tipped him off, shouldn't it? Good old Manny, he was so blinded by the person he thought I was, he couldn't see the trash inside. Lots of expectation for me to live up to. How could I crush his hopes? But after a while, he became more Reus than Manov. That's when I stopped getting my kicks.” Simon's eyes narrowed into a glare. “That turn of events was your own doing. By actively encouraging Mistree's dreams and teaching him your ways, you shaped him into Mr. Reus. Then, when he was close to becoming just like you; a supposed criminal... You could justify butchering him with a clear conscience. He ceased to be a person and instead became a means to an end.” “Seems like it. I created a monster, by which I mean myself, and then I fed that monster to the flames of my revenge in hopes the fire would consume the last shreds of Magnifi's legacy. Fucking tragic.” “If you agree that the mindset is tragic, do you regret what you've done?” Reus stood quite suddenly and threw a card across the room as if it were a ninja star. The corner of it pierced the wall and so, the card remained there. Athena looked impressed. Simon thought the showmanship was quite unnecessary, but then, perhaps it was one of the few outlets Reus still had left. The disgraced magician placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, speaking his next words in a vicious whisper. “I'd kill Manov a hundred times over if it meant I had a chance to be rid of my thirst for revenge. I would need to kill him a hundred times over, because that's what it means to be a fuck-up. … How's that for a psychological profile, Dr. Freud?” To Be Continued

#my fanfiction #aa #aa spoilers #simon blackquill #athena cykes #AA mindhunter

3 notes · View notes