#legally changed my name but my birth name is still all over my fucking account and there’s no way to change it

[homenecromancer]

a lot of the time, i have a hard time realizing that im feeling an emotion unless i actively sit down and work through it a bit.

and this whole spring i've been like. well my general anxiety has been way worse, my ability to deal with things is all over the map, i have trouble sleeping without sleep medication, i've noticed myself pulling away from even socializing online... when i think about my hysterectomy coming up, i don't feel happy. i feel nervous and a little scared. i worry that i'm going to get a phone call telling me that my insurance company has decided not to pay. holy shit, do i worry about that.

(like, two days ago i was on a conference call with someone from my rheumatologist's office + someone who works with my insurance company, and things eventually boiled down to: the insurance company refuses to add a preferred name to my account, and they won't accept documents with anything but my birth name on them, so now i'm back to being "[birth name] but with a note on my file to call me a different name" at my rheumatologist.)

it wasn't like that when i was waiting for my top surgery.

but that was 2018.

and i did not think, then, that in five years, every time i checked the news i would be bracing myself for new anti-trans legislation, and praying it wouldn't be in my state. it doesn't feel like i'm waiting to walk through a door to a different state of being; it feels like i'm running and trying to escape a trap. when i think about the future it's in terms of "what can i survive, and how?". i wanted joy, not desperation.

my state is relatively supportive of trans people, but it is surrounded by states that are proposing and passing a tide of transphobic legislation. and while this state leans more Democrat than it did in the past, there is still a Republican history in this state. there are people here who would be happy to vote to make it illegal for me to get hormones, to use my own name, to change my legal gender marker.

sometimes i wonder if part of the reason that i am mostly treated okay in public is that i'm visibly disabled, and a lot of abled people view disabled people as the diet versions of adults. (people tend to see someone visibly disabled and immediately decide "oh, they're disabled, so they obviously don't drink / fuck / do any 'normal' adult activity"). so i'm not getting invisibly graded on my ability to pass as an adult man, not the way i would if i weren't disabled; anything odd about me gets brushed off as "oh, the poor thing is disabled" rather than "i knew it, he's not actually a man".

i don't really participate in real-world queer community, for reasons that are like... considerably related to depression/anxiety. i am happy to call myself queer, but i don't feel like i belong anywhere in particular in the community, or that anyone would have interest in my opinions, experiences, or feelings, for reasons i do not wish to elaborate on. (also, every group i have found that i might be interested in meets somewhere far away from where i live, on a day and at a time when i am usually at work. like even the teleconference groups i've found are like that. lmao at living in the suburbs.) usually i can just patch that feeling of loneliness over, but sometimes it really drags me down.

i'm just tired of being scared all the time.

[astrognossienne]

scandalous star: gary cooper -an analysis

“I don’t like to see exaggerated airs and exploding egos in people who are already established. No player ever rises to prominence solely on talent. They’re molded by forces other than themselves. They should remember this – and at least twice a week drop to their knees and thank Providence for elevating them from cow ranches, dime store ribbon counters and bookkeeping desks. ” - Gary Cooper

He didn’t say much, but when he did, it carried a lot of weight. He was the archetypal hero of the Old West; the quintessential masculine ideal of the stoic and “strong silent type” that most Taurus men are. But for famously laconic Gary Cooper, his good looks and earnest, haunted eyes for decades made him the quintessential lonely American of motion pictures.He was a more equanimous, human protagonist versus boisterous, bigger-than-life Hollywood supermen. He was renowned for his quiet, understated acting style and his individualistic, emotionally restrained, but at times intense screen persona, which was particularly well suited to the many Westerns he made. He was a man’s man...as well as a ladies’ man. Cooper became a hero to many, even as he developed a reputation as one of the most notorious philanderers in Hollywood. Privately a debonair ladykiller with a taste for high society, he crafted an image as just the opposite from his prototype cowboy image he materfully portrayed on the silver screen. He was insatiable, before and during his marriage. How did he reconcile his moral righteousness onscreen (Taurus sun) with his philandering offscreen (Sagittarius moon)? That was the work of the fixers, gossip magazines, and the studio system at large, which ensured that Cooper was never caught, never denounced, and held up as a paragon of American values.

Gary Cooper, according to astrotheme, was a Taurus sun and Sagittarius moon. He was born Frank James Cooper in Helena, Montana, the second son of an English farmer from Bedfordshire, who later became an American lawyer and judge, Charles Henry Cooper (1865-1946), and Kent-born Alice (née Brazier) Cooper (1873-1967). As a child, he met a freed slave woman named Mary Fields, otherwise known as Stagecoach Mary, and so awed by her was she that he later wrote an account of his memories of her in Ebony magazine. His mother hoped for their two sons to receive a better education than that available in Montana and arranged for the boys to attend Dunstable Grammar School in Bedfordshire, England between 1910 and 1913. Upon the outbreak of World War I, Cooper’s mother brought her sons home and enrolled them in a Bozeman, Montana, high school. Upon graduation, he eventually matriculated at Grinnell College in Grinnell, IA, where he attempted to nurture a passion for drawing - until a serious car accident ended his college days in the summer of 1920. He would recover from his severely injured hip through an odd but painful therapy, horseback riding.

When his father retired from the bench and moved his mother to Los Angeles, Cooper gave up agriculture classes to try his hand as a Hollywood extra. Cooper played an extra in a handful of silent films before arriving on the set of The Winning of Barbara Worth in 1926. The actor cast as the second male lead didn’t show, and someone shoved Cooper into the part. He appeared with Clara Bow (who soon became one of his conquests) in her star-making film It, but it was his appearance in another Bow vehicle Wings, released later that same year, truly launched his career. He plays a World War I flying cadet, and although his screentime was still relatively short, there was one scene — an extended close-up shot, the light streaming in from outside — in which he looked gorgeous. In 1929, he filmed The Wolf Song with Lupe Vélez. He soon had an affair with Velez, who purportedly claimed that Cooper “has the biggest organ in Hollywood but not the ass to push it in well.” For more on their relationship, read my star analysis on Lupe.

Cooper filmed The Virginian — his first real “talkie,” and the film was a major hit and cemented the foundation of Cooper’s image. His ability to project elements of his own personality onto the characters he portrayed, to appear natural and authentic in his roles, and to underplay and deliver restrained performances calibrated for the camera and the screen helped make him a cinematic success, often lauded by those he worked with. However, his good looks and charisma made him a success with women, whether he worked with them or not. Over the next few years, Cooper was paired with the most gorgeous and promising female stars in Hollywood —with Carole Lombard in I Take This Woman (whom he slept with), Claudette Colbert in His Woman (whom he allegedly slept with), Marlene Dietrich in Morocco and Desire (who he famously slept with more than once), and Joan Blondell in Make Me a Star (who he allegedly slept with). In 1932, Cooper and his Paramount “rival,” Cary Grant, were cast against Tallulah Bankhead in Devil and the Deep (1932). Like Lupe Velez, Bankhead was a loose cannon, with most famous quote being:

“The only reason I went to Hollywood was to fuck that divine Gary Cooper.”

Amidst all his public and private action, Cooper began courting Veronica “Rocky” Balfe, a starlet who went by the stage name of Sandra Shaw. She was also best known as the blonde dropped by King Kong. The two were wed in late 1933. Balfe retired from the screen to become a wife and mother, with her giving birth to their only child, Maria, in 1937. Cooper portrayed a new type of hero—a champion of the common man—in films like Mr. Deeds Goes To Washington and 1941′s Sergeant York (which won him his first of two Best Actor Oscars). Cooper met Ernest Hemingway at Sun Valley in October 1940 and they were friends for the rest of his life. He co-starred with Ingrid Bergman (with whom he had a year-long affair with) in a the film adaptation of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. He kept starring in more films and bedding his female co-stars until he got more than he bargained for when he made The Fountainhead. Naturally, the 47-year-old Cooper had an affair with his co-star, the 21-year-old Patricia Neal. However, this time things got crazy: Neal wound up pregnant with Cooper’s child. He insisted she have an abortion. When Cooper’s long-suffering wife found out about the relationship, she sent a telegram demanding he end it. This didn’t work; he also confessed that he was in love with Neal, and continued to see her. Cooper and his wife legally separated in May of 1951. Cooper’s daughter Maria, by then in her early teens, famously spat on Neal in public. Neal later claimed that Cooper hit her after she went on a date with Kirk Douglas. Neal ended their relationship in late December 1951. Amid all this drama, Cooper starred in what is now regarded as his defining role: the beleaguered sheriff in High Noon, which won him his second Best Actor Oscar. In later life, he became involved in a relationship with the costume designer Irene, and was, according to Irene, "the only man she ever loved".

Maybe all his previous actions had an affect on him because Cooper converted to Catholicism in 1958, and reconciled with his wife and daughter. Also, he began starring in films that centered around searching for redemption, such as Friendly Persuasion (1956) and Man of the West (1958). In 1960, Cooper fell ill with prostate cancer, which quickly spread to his colon, lungs, and bones; he died of it shortly after his 60th birthday in 1961. A year after his death, Irene committed suicide by jumping from the 11th floor of the Knickerbocker Hotel, after telling Doris Day of her grief over Cooper's death. Regardless of his philandering, regardless of the arduous work of his studio’s publicity departments, there was something plaintive, almost childlike, maybe even innocent about Cooper, so he can easily be forgiven his sins. He acted out what mattered to millions of people, and that act made him a star beyond measure.

Next, I’ll focus on his former paramour Lupe Velez’s arch nemesis. A woman who happened to be wife of MGM art director Cedric Gibbons (Gary Cooper’s wife Rocky’s uncle). She was another pioneer of Mexican cinema who was arguably the first Latina to successfully crossover to Anglo audiences: Leo Dolores del Río.

Stats

birthdate: May 7, 1901

major planets:

Sun: Taurus

Moon: Sagittarius

Rising: Taurus

Mercury: Taurus

Venus: Taurus

Mars: Leo

Midheaven: Aquarius

Jupiter: Capricorn

Saturn: Capricorn

Uranus: Sagittarius

Neptune: Gemini

Pluto: Gemini

Overall personality snapshot: He was torn between an instinct to roam free and a determination to find security and make a solid, lasting contribution to the world. As he repeatedly changed horses in search of both ultimate certainties and high-spirited adventure at the same time, he could find himself deeply divided and uncertain. He sought to earth the fire from heaven and put it to work, but he found all too often that it would not let him rest. In his search for stability and security, he became a farmer and was immediately confronted with the changing seasons. He embraced the solid certainties of geology and are hit by an earthquake. He liked to feel the solid earth move. He sought certitude and permanence, yet his endless inquiries constantly confounded yesterday’s certainties. When he got his own uncertainties together (by accepting he wanted the best of both the changing and the unchanging worlds), he could have been a brilliant teacher, conversationalist, counselor, entertainer, wit, creative artist or entrepreneur – in fact he could have been anything he wanted. Once focused, he could be a human dynamo, and wonderfully humorous, witty and entertaining with it. As he discovered, his quest for solid material certainties did not make a happy bedfellow for his yearning for excitement and larger religious and spiritual understanding. In one way or another, be it through philosophy and the spiritual quest or through writing, music or art, he needed to put together and formulate a total vision of the universe which is based on unassailable facts yet satisfying to his idealism.

Constantly seeking, he was a natural agnostic, applying the criteria of science to counter woolly speculations, yet at the same time highly skeptical of the limited and statistical pronouncements of unthinking science. The danger, if he did not marry these elements within him, is that he would swing from one to the other and undermine the virtues of both. A restless changing of jobs, careers, partners, visions or aspirations left him drunk with his own spinning. When he deliberately tried to remain sober and commonsensical, it seemed to make matters worse for there was something of the gambler in him. This all-or-nothing streak can temporarily overcome your natural caution and enable you to burn your bridges (though you will usually ensure there is something tucked away for a rainy day). He felt an impulsive need to do things on a grand scale, to live with commitment, to feast on the world, and to understand what it was to be alive in all possible ways. He seemed to be called both to explore the reaches of the imagination and to build secure foundations. He brought far-reaching visions into manifestation, and these visions injected his conservative desire for stability and security with flair and colour. His vision of tomorrow and the larger world gave spice to any project he undertook. He saw endless possibilities and wanted to make them real. In this he could be the natural entrepreneur who saw economic opportunities at every turn, an inspiring counselor and teacher, and a stimulating companion whatever he did.

His well-shaped body displayed a warm attractiveness and ripeness. In his later years, he may have needed to watch the tendency to gain weight too easily. His strong broad shoulders supported a very large neck size. His most outstanding feature was his eyes and his gentle smile and voice. He was big-boned. He enjoyed dressing well, preferring soft colours. He was practical, steady and patient, but he could  be inflexible in his views. One thing he did have was plenty of common sense and good powers of concentration, although he tended to think that purely abstract thought was a waste of time. His thought processes weren’t as quick as others, but his decisions were made with a lot of thought behind them. He also had the welcome ability to bring people together. He needed to be able to show his originality and independence in any job for complete satisfaction. His work should also satisfy his scientific bent and humanitarian leanings. He needed scope for his inventiveness, because he was able to bring a fresh view to any job. Ideally, his work should permit him to express the idealistic side to him character and allow him to help as many people as possible. He could be extremely efficient in the way that he tried to get maximum result out of minimum effort. He didn’t like extravagance and waste. He was a thoughtful and resourceful person, who was well-informed on many subjects. Success came gradually and as a result of hard work. Success and growth, for him, were expressed by material and financial achievements, bringing status and prestige.Worldly success was well within his reach, because he possessed all the necessary talents to gain power, influence and status. He was practical, determined and patient. When there were hitches in his plans, he simply worked around them. He knew where he was heading to, and had already figured out the best way to use his talents to reach his goals.

Although he could be fairly pessimistic about life in general, it didn’t put him off aiming for the top. He could be very single-minded about reaching his goals, and was prepared to put his career interests above his personal happiness. He was extremely aware of his own worth. He was prepared to work beyond the call of duty. His strong sense of ambition gave him a certain rigidity, arrogance and selfishness in the eyes of others. He belonged to a generation with fiery enthusiasm for new and innovative ideas and concepts. Rejecting the past and its mistakes, he sought new ideals and people to believe in. As a member of this generation, he felt restless and adventurous, and was attracted towards foreign people, places and cultures. As a member of the Gemini Neptune generation, his restless mind pushed him to explore new intellectual fields. He loved communication and the occult and was likely also fascinated by metaphysical phenomena and astrology. As a Gemini Plutonian, he was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, he showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, he questioned more and learned more. As a member of this generation, having more than one occupation at a time would not have been unusual to him.

Love/sex life: His sexuality was a wonderful combination of sensuality and basic laziness. He let himself be carried along by his pleasure-seeking instincts, greeting every new experience with fresh eagerness and then slowly draining from that encounter all the joy it has to offer. This passive, easy-going approach to sex not only made for good technique, it also conceals the egocentric strength and stubbornness that was at the core of his erotic nature. People don’t realize that beneath all that luxurious hedonism he was always the person in control. He was a conservative lover for whom appearances were always important. There may have been occasions when his sensuality lured him into indiscretions but he was quick to cover his tracks and hide the evidence. The quiet practicality of his sexual nature served as a handy antidote for his Martian braggadocio. He knew that he was the best there is but he was willing to sit back and let the world find out the good news on its own. In his youth Cooper was endorsed by several female “experts” of the time (such as Clara Bow, Marlene Dietrich and Tallulah Bankhead) as Hollywood’s sexiest man. His soft spoken and manly sex appeal projected just as well on the screen. After marrying at age 32, Cooper’s sex life became somewhat more sedate though he never lost his ability to attract women.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Scorpio

Lilith: Scorpio

Vertex: Libra

Fortune: Capricorn

East Point: Taurus

His North Node in Scorpio dictated that he needed to be careful not to let the more emotional side of his personality overwhelm him. Instead, he should have set out to consciously develop his more practical abilities. His Lilith in Scorpio ensured that he was dangerously attracted to those women who seduced and conquered on a daily basis; who liked life intense and was judged for her sexuality and general vibe and learned early on how to deflect moral judgments. His type of women may have been tried in the court of public opinion but no way were they going to show up for the sentencing. His Vertex in Libra, 6th house dictated that he llonged for a union of souls that was based on a model of pure peace and justice. Images come to mind of a mythical life on Venus, the planet of love, where there is never a discordant beat between lovers, but rather, continual harmony even if played in the minor chords. Physical lust was certainly a necessary aspect of two beings eternally intertwined, but the platonic component far outweighed it in importance for him. He had an attitude of duty, obligation and sacrifice when it came to heartfelt interactions. The negative side was the tendency to become hypochondriacal or martyristic to get the love he so desperately wanted. There was a need for others to appreciate the sincerity of his intentions, to the daily tasks he executed in a conscientious and caring way and for others to know that his actions, no matter how routine they may seem, were based on devoted love. His Part of Fortune in Capricorn and Part of Spirit in Cancer dictated that his destiny lay in creating practical and long-lasting achievements. Success came through hard work, determination, responsibility and perseverance. Fulfillment came from observing his progress through life and seeing it take a form and structure that will outlive him. His soul’s purpose guided him towards building security in his life, both emotional and material. He felt spiritual connections and the spark of the divine within his home and family. East Point in Taurus dictated that he was more likely to identify with the need for pleasure (including the potential of liking himself) and comfort.  

elemental dominance:

earth

fire

He was a practical, reliable man and could provide structure and protection. He was oriented toward practical experience and thought in terms of doing rather than thinking, feeling, or imagining. Could be materialistic, unimaginative, and resistant to change. But at his best, he provided the practical resources, analysis, and leadership to make dreams come true. He was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. He generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. He was exciting to be around, because he was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, he could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, he chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, he was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because he was bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—he was bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at his best, his confidence and vision inspired others to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves.

modality dominance:

fixed

He liked the challenge of managing existing routines with ever more efficiency, rather than starting new enterprises or finding new ways of doing things. He likely had trouble delegating duties and had a very hard time seeing other points of view; he tried to implement the human need to create stability and order in the wake of change.

house dominants:

12th

9th

8th

He had great interest in the unconscious, and indulged in a lot of hidden and secret affairs. His life was defined by seclusion and escapism. He had a certain mysticism and hidden sensitivity, as well as an intense need for privacy. Traveling, whether physically across the globe, on a mental plane or expanding through study was a major theme in his life. He was not only concerned with learning facts, but also wanted to understand the connections formed between them and the philosophies and concepts they stood for. His conscience, as well as foreign travel, people and places was also of paramount importance in his life. He loved the totality of the human experience and embraced the whole cycle of human life, including birth, sex and death. His darker side, and the complexes and emotions that he preferred to keep hidden, even from himself was a theme throughout his life. His ability to undergo deep personal transformations and spiritual regeneration was also highlighted.

planet dominants:

Venus

Saturn

Sun

He was romantic, attractive and valued beauty, had an artistic instinct, and was sociable. He had an easy ability to create close personal relationships, for better or worse, and to form business partnerships. He believed in the fact that lessons in life were sometimes harsh, that structure and foundation was a great issue in his life, and he had to be taught through through experience what he needed in order to grow. He paid attention to limitations he had and had to learn the rules of the game in this physical reality. He tended to have a practical, prudent outlook. He also likely held rigid beliefs. He had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. He likely had strong leadership qualities, he definitely knew who he was, and he had tremendous will. He met challenges and believed in expanding his life.

sign dominants:

Taurus

Sagittarius

Capricorn

His stubbornness and determination kept his around for the long haul on any project or endeavour. He was incredibly patient, singular in his pursuit of goals, and determined to attain what he wanted. Although he lacked versatility, he compensated for it by enduring whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. He enjoyed being surrounded by nice things. He liked fine art and music, and may have had considerable musical ability. He also had a talent for working with his hands—gardening, woodworking, and sculpting. He sought the truth, expressed it as he saw it—and didn’t care if anyone else agreed with him. He saw the large picture of any issue and couldn’t be bothered with the mundane details. He was always outspoken and likely couldn’t understand why other people weren’t as candid. After all, what was there to hide? He loved his freedom and chafed at any restrictions. He was a serious-minded person who often seemed aloof and tightly in control of his emotions and her personal domain. Even as a youngster, there was a mature air about him, as if he was born with a profound core that few outsiders ever see. He was easily impressed by outward signs of success, but was interested less in money than in the power that money represents. He was a true worker—industrious, efficient, and disciplined. His innate common sense gave her the ability to plan ahead and to work out practical ways of approaching goals. More often than not, he succeeded at whatever he set out to do. He possessed a quiet dignity that was unmistakable.

Read more about him under the cut.

Actor Gary Cooper was born on May 7, 1901, in Helena, Montana. Spanning from the silent film era to the early 1960s, Academy Award-winning actor Gary Cooper built much of his career by playing strong, manly, distinctly American roles. The son of English parents who had settled in Montana, he was educated in England for a time. He also studied at Grinnell College in Iowa before heading to Los Angeles to work as an illustrator. When he had a hard time finding a job, Cooper worked as a film extra and landed some small parts. After his appearance in

The Winning of Barbara Worth

(1926), a western, Cooper's career began to take off. He starred opposite silent movie star Clara Bow in Children of Divorce (1927). Cooper also earned praise as the ranch foreman in

The Virginian

(1929), one of his early films with sound. Throughout the 1930s, he turned in a number of strong performances in such films as A Farewell to Arms (1934) with Helen Hayes and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) directed by Frank Capra. Cooper received an Academy Award nomination for his work on the film. Cooper continued to excel on the big screen, tackling several real-life dramas. In Sergeant York (1941), the played a World War I hero and sharpshooter, which was based on the life story of Alvin York. Cooper earned a Best Actor Academy Award for his portrayal of York.

The next year, Cooper played one of baseball's greats, Lou Gehrig, in The Pride of the Yankees (1942). Again, he scored another Best Actor Academy Award nomination. Appearing in a film adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls,  Cooper starred opposite Ingrid Bergman in a drama set during the Spanish Civil War. This role garnered him a third Academy Award nomination. In 1952, Cooper took on what is known considered his signature role as Will Kane in High Noon. He appeared as a lawman who must face a deadly foe without any help from his own townspeople. The film won four Academy Awards, including a Best Actor win for Cooper. In addition to his excellent on-screen performances, Cooper became  known for his alleged romances with several of his leading ladies, including Clara Bow and Patricia Neal. The affair with Neal, his co-star in 1949's The Fountainhead, reportedly occurred during his  marriage to socialite Veronica Balfe with whom he had a daughter. Their marriage seemed to survive the scandal. By the late 1950s, Cooper's health was in decline. He made a few more films, such as Man of the West (1958), before dying of cancer on May 13, 1961. (x)

[gooseking]

I really need to figure out another way to manage my anger issues. Rant below.

So I've been having SO much trouble with just ONE check from my school. First, I was told that I needed to upgrade my card to accept direct deposit from a new employer and to send my ID and social security card. I didn't have my actual ID at the time, so instead sent my temporary one (I just changed my ID to have my new legal name). They told me the day AFTER the cut off date before my money was sent back to the school that it wasn't accepted. So I had to have my mom send me a picture of my actual ID to send. Then they told me my social security card wasn't accepted, and I stayed on the phone until that fucker was approved. So my card was finally upgraded.

But my money was sent back to the school, so I had to wait until the school actually got it so that I could get a live check. They didn't get the money until Tuesday. I've been dealing with this shit since either the end of October or early November. So with my upgraded card, I had the option to cash my check on the app. I tried, and it said my identity wasn't verified??? So I called, and they said I had to register with ANOTHER APP.

So I tried. Said there was already an account made with my social security number. So I tried to log in, and my email wasn't in the system. : ) Frustrating. So I messaged their online support, they couldn't help, so they directed me to call and that I would have immediate assistance. Close to 40 minutes later, I was finally talking to someone. Turns out, my account was registered when I made PayPal (before I had my name change). She told me that I could verify my shit over email when I got it and my account would be all good. Got it fixed today. Still couldn't log into the app. So I hit "Forgot Password", and never received the email.

So I tried to cash my check on the first app now that my account was at least approved. Got progress. Hit "Deposit Check", and it told me to register a card. My card was already registered. Contacted support AGAIN. Text support couldn't help; told me to call. So I called.

: )

Most frustrating fucking call of my life. I told her my situation, and she kept asking about the other app, and I told her it was a problem with the first app. Still wouldn't fucking listen. I asked for another agent who WOULD listen, and she was adamant about not switching me. She still would not fucking listen to the situation. So, as with someone with bad anger issues and with this going on for more than a month WITH the stress of finals, I blew up on her. I yelled, I cussed, was hitting the desk, and she finally transferred me to a supervisor.

: )

You would think that the supervisor could help me, right? NO. This fucker really tried to tell me that it wasn't possible to cash a check on their app, when I had it pulled up in front of me and was telling him a step by step of what I was doing. "It's not possible to cash a check with our app" BULLSHIT. WHY THE FUCK WOULD IT HAVE AN OPTION TO LITERALLY DEPOSIT A CHECK?

So I told him I was done and hung up.

Turns out, I just had to register my card in a different fucking part of the app. I had to figure that out by myself just by clicking random shit. Was able to submit my check.

: )

Denied.

The app still thinks my legal name was my birth name. So I tried contacting support with this third party fucking app, and was met with an automated message saying that they were closed but were open Monday-Thursday from 9am to 10pm est. It was only 9pm est. No option to leave a message.

As for the fucking anger issues, it's not just blowing up on people. I get visceral and cannot control my body sometimes. I'm honestly surprised I didn't black out like I usually do. But I get so much pent up anger that I have to let it out physically. I threw shit, punched my bed until my glasses flew off, and punched my backpack with my laptop still in it. Hurt my hand like a motherfucker. I was down on the ground in pain for about 2 minutes and the pain didn't subside for one of those minutes. It still hurts more than an hour later.

I'm so fucking fed up with talking to customer support and having to deal with this shit.

[omenapologist-moved]

I am very tired. Please help if you can.

2020 has been stressful for everyone and it has not pulled any punches on me. I am beyond exhausted and full of fear for my immediate future. I know there are things happening in this world right now which are much bigger than I am and deserve your help and support probably more than I, a single person do. The past few years have been nothing if not a struggle and a desperate attempt to hold onto life. I have been in abusive relationships, I have moved across the country 3 times in hopes of a better life, I have often gone hungry, I have been in the mental hospital, I have been stalked and groomed and I have not been able to sleep from being so fucking terrified, and when I do sleep it is scarcely restful. I have nightmares often. I have constantly been just a step away from being on the streets.  I don’t know if I will have a place to live in the upcoming months, and I know that no matter how many times I speak of this and tell you all my story it probably will not save me. But I suppose I can at least try. 

I’ll explain what all is going on in specific under the cut, but suffice to say that yes, this is another post wherein I beg for money. I don’t want to do this, I am sick to death of doing this, but it is legitimately my only option.

paypal: alumirust@gmail.com

cashapp: $gwiffisu

ko-fi: alumirust

venmo: @alumirust 

Continuation from the first paragraph:

So, I am trying to focus on the present. I haven’t done laundry in a long while because I haven’t had any change, nor have I had enough in my account to withdraw cash and then break it down into quarters. I don’t have insurance because I can’t find a way to the government services building that wouldn’t be over $40 for a round trip. I need insurance because I can’t afford to continue my HRT without it, nor replace my birth control implant. I’ve been off of T for 3 weeks now, and my hormones are probably extremely fucked considering my implant also just expired, making my low mood even worse. On top of that, in order to apply for welfare I need a doctor’s note explaining why I can’t work. I can’t see a doctor without insurance. I literally only need state insurance. I cannot apply online. I have a cat, and she only has enough food for tomorrow. I do not know what I will do after then. I also need to purchase a new ID from this state to prove my residency, and I need to purchase certain certifications regarding a name change from 2 years ago because I still don’t have that sorted out (and am considering changing my legal name again, for privacy, safety, and because I do not connect to our current legal name) I have no income whatsoever other than donations, and while I am trying to open art commissions again I do not have much energy these days to complete them in a way that I feel deserves your money.

Almost a month ago now I finished the most recent cross-country move in order to escape an abusive ex partner. I was living alone in a state where he was the only person I knew, and was my only means of economic stability. I relied on him financially because I had no other choice. I am disabled, and I have a pending disability case which is now in the stages wherein I need to find a lawyer. I haven’t been able to get a lawyer because I have absolutely no money to my name other than the $1.77 in my bank account, and because I haven’t even had a stable address. I lost a lot in this last move. I don’t even have a bed frame now, but at this point sleeping somewhere not on the floor is the least of my concerns. 

I have been waiting for my name to come up in public housing for over a year now. I applied last April, and was told my time would come up in April of 2020. It clearly did not. I have now been told it could come up anywhere from now until October, but it looks like it should be coming up in July, but I have no definitive dates whatsoever. I have to be out of the apartment I am currently in by July 31st. If public housing does not open up for me by then, I will be on the streets until it does. If I am denied housing for any reason, I will be on the streets. And not only that, but my partner is looking to move in with me into public housing to escape an abusive home as well. They have written their own posts briefly covering their situation, and I will not put words into their mouth, but suffice to say they are regularly denied food as well as other necessities. We are both counting on public housing to save us.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #391

“if you wanna soar with vultures, you’ll have to swallow crow”

Have you ever been to Australia? No. I want to visit a friend there, but honestly, Australia scares me too much lmao. That place is like, the Hard mode in life. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My sister's husband just had his. Are you wearing a necklace? If so, describe it. No. Do you know anyone who is left-handed? My best fren. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? Haha, yeah... I caused a few scratches on Ozzy's Black Rain, as well as one more of his, where the album name is surprisingly evading me. What’s your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. What’s your favorite fast food meal? Burgers or chicken tenders are usually my go-to, depending on the place. Where is the best restaurant you’ve ever eaten in at? The Cheesecake Factory. @_@ Lamb chops or pork chops? I've actually never tried lamb chops before, but I've always thought they look yummy. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne, probably. It's very motivating. Ever heard of Shinedown? Yeah, I like 'em. They're one of Dad's faves. What size is your bed? Queen. What is the first meal you remember eating? Hell if I know. What was the first movie you ever saw? I also don't remember. What percentile of your class were you in? The top. Can you name every place you’ve ever had sex? I probably could, but I'm not going to. What forms of birth control have you used? The pill and also just not having a sex life lmao. Do you use sponges or dishcloths when doing the dishes? A sponge. What’s your favorite song on the top twenty right now? I have zero clue what's in the top twenty. Ever punched a wall? No. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? An ant in the house. My fingers. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I've never been pulled over. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? A margarita, I think? What’s the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Probably this laptop. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought? My snake. Or my most recent tattoo, idr. What is your favorite cover song? I think Disturbed's "Sound of Silence" is unbeatable as a cover. Well, or Johnny Cash's "Hurt." Both SLAUGHTER the originals. Did you ever drop out of school? College, three times. Ever raise a child that wasn’t your own for more than 3 months? No. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? Considering the location, having a pilonidal cyst drained by pushing on it. Jesus FUCKING Christ it hurt so goddamn bad. Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? I don’t have a job. Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? Windows. Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? Yes. How many times a year do you go on vacation? Zero, generally. What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? The Holocaust. What’s the saddest report you have ever seen on the news? *shrug* I don't watch the news. In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Putting aside my illogical fear of whale sharks, probably giant squid. Like no thank u. What superpower do you think would be the most handy in times of trouble? Teleportation. Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or…? No. There are WAY too many people in the world for that. Plus, you're talking to a person who has been in love with two different individuals, and both were perfectly valid feelings. Why are you best friends with your best friend? She's just simply amazing. Strong, funny, intelligent, caring, supportive, loyal... She's, again, amazing. Do you world peace is truly a possibility in the future? Realistically, no. But it's nice to imagine. Pretend you are a really good cook, what meal would you make? *shrug* It would depend on what I wanted to eat. What do you think of when you look at the stars? Just the vastness of everything, and I wonder what it's like up there in outer space. If a turtle doesn’t have a shell, is he homeless or naked? Dead? Their shells are part of their actual skeletal structure. What’s one thing you feel you must do in your life before it ends? Just... feel like I did something. What Disney princess are you most like? Personality-wise, I mean. Maybe Belle? To be totally honest, I don't really remember the details of most of their personalities. What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Love. Do you use any acne medication? Not anymore. Have you ever tried to learn another language? How did it go? I took Latin for one semester, and it was hard as FUCK. I quickly changed to German next semester and did that for all four available classes. Do you still have a landline phone in your home? No. Throughout a typical week, which places are you likely to go? I go to the TMS therapy office every weekday, and I might ride with my mom to pick up groceries or something. How often do you use your webcam, if you even have one that is? Never anymore because my mic doesn't work on this laptop, so there's no reason to. Do you have a lock number or pattern for your phone? Neither, actually. What was the last thing you bought from a liquor store? Mom bought a nice bottle of some pink lemonade Smirnoff the other day for us to try, but she left it at my sister's. ;-; It looked soooo good. Is there any cereal in your house? What kind? Yeah. Mom got some Honey Nut Cheerios and Reese's Puffs. What's the most number of people you've ever lived with? Excluding myself, I wanna say five. Do you celebrate St. Patrick's Day? No. Do you have any pets? How long have you had them? I've had Venus forrrr... I want to say four years, and Roman for two, I think. What's your favourite kind of cheese? American. Have you danced in the rain? No. Who is your favorite person to text? Sara. What’s your favorite brand of jeans? I haven't worn jeans in many years. Do you enjoy Mario games? Not especially. Mario Kart is fun, though. What’s your favorite online game? World of Warcraft. Have you ever been hit with a ball in gym class? Yes. That shit hurts. Who was last to cook for you? My mom. Would you ever wish to explore a cave? YES!!!!! You see the person you fell hardest for. What do you do? Freeze, physically and mentally. Have you ever ridden in a car with someone who was high? Yes, because I was afraid to say no. Did you ever date the last person you kissed? Yes. Have you ever held a snake? Plenty of times. How often do you have friends over to your house? Never. Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? No. Who was the last person who cried around you? Why did they start crying? Was it unexpected? My mom, because she always feels unwanted at Ashley's house. It wasn't unexpected, honestly. She cries a lot in the car when she leaves my sister's house, honestly. It's heartbreaking. Do you have any exercises you do everyday? No. :/ Are you more of a dog or cat person? I'm a cat person. That only becomes more apparent with time, really. Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? I probably have, given I've had nightmares of strangling someone, punching and slapping people... all kinds of stuff. My nightmares are so fucking violent and I hate it. Would you ever have a bird as a pet? No. Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? No. Do you know someone who’s been cremated? My dog, as well as my younger sister's old pup. And Mom's. What is your favorite animated movie? The Lion King. Did your grandparents teach you anything? To not be horrendously old-fashioned and to never have kids, yes. Congrats, Grandma, I took both things to heart. Do you want/have a Bachelor's degree? No. Are you into superheroes? Who's your favourite? Not massively, no. I like Deadpool (yeah, yeah, antihero, whatever) and Spider-Man. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yes to both. Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? I don't think so. Did you ever play Neopets when you were younger? Yes, I LOVED them. Sometimes I'm still tempted to make a new account, I shit you not, lol. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have your parents ever worked in medicine? My mom was a pharmacy technician or some title like that for a long time. Is there anything unusual about your house? I don't think so? How many serious relationships have you been in? Two. Do you listen to Rise Against? I only know "Re-education (Through Labor)," but I LOVE that song. When was the last time you congratulated someone? It was probably something on Facebook, but idr. Have you ever taken care of a newborn baby? Go no, I could never. How old were you when you got your ears pierced? I don't remember my age, but old enough where I did it of my own volition. Do you snore when you sleep? No. Surprising for someone with sleep apnea as horrendous as mine. What was the last type of burger you ate? I had a McDouble from McDonald's a few nights ago.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 4: Commitment

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3900

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Two and a half hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Drake paced along the gravel at the side of the road, glancing over at Riley frequently. She was hunched into the back of the town car, the back door left open as she used the back seat as a makeshift changing table. 

He felt sick to his stomach. Everything was going wrong. He was surprised he hadn’t thrown up, to be honest. Olivia’s warning made everything ten times more real. And things had already felt pretty damn real.

They were a dozen or so kilometers into Greece, but he wanted to go back to Cordonia. Getting charged with treason… the thought was so upsetting. And yeah, he wanted to be there to support Liam through this crisis, too. If they all worked together, they could stop the coup and stop the threat of Bridget being taken from them at the same time. But Riley didn’t want to hear any discussion of turning around and returning from Greece. The second he’d mentioned needing to make a decision after Olivia had hung up the phone, she’d gotten defensive. Raised her voice. Told him he never should have come along if he was just going to change his mind, because her plan was final.

They hadn’t been screaming or anything, but they’d both gotten loud enough to wake Bridget, and she’d started doing enough screaming for their entire family. She was hungry, antsy, and probably a bit crabby from sensing their frustration with each other. After several minutes of her wailing, Ray had pulled over to the side of the road and rolled down the privacy divider. He’d offered to walk into the nearest town, which was only about a kilometer away, to pick up a couple of bottles of water so that they could prepare Bridget some formula, as well as some dinner for the three adults. Drake suspected he also was trying to give them some privacy as they discussed next steps. He had to have heard Riley and him getting louder with each other. It’s not like the divider was completely soundproof.

But instead of having the conversation they needed to have, Riley was essentially giving him the silent treatment at this point. She’d taken Bridget from him when he ducked behind some bushes to relieve himself, and since he’d returned, she hadn’t said a word to him. He was at a loss as to how to handle it. He knew she was panicking. He knew she was terrified. He knew she was just focused on keeping Bridget safe. But she wasn’t thinking clearly. And if he couldn’t make her see that, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

After a few moments, Riley scooped up Bridget, tucking her against her hip as she stood up, stretching her back and twisting her neck from side to side. Drake knew he had to broach the topic again.

“Look, Riley, I know you-”

“Drake, I do not want to hear this. I told you already - Bridget and I are not setting foot on Cordonian soil until we have confirmation that no one is scheming to take her.”

Drake ran a hand over his face as he let out a massive sigh. He’d never struggled this much to get through to her before. Even in those early days, when most of their conversations were all snark without any underlying friendship or affection, he’d always felt like she was at least willing to hear him out, even if she’d thought his warnings had been over dramatic. It’s weird how he was now the one arguing the opposite position, trying to convince her to put her faith in at least some of the Cordonian nobility.

“Riley, can you at least explain to me why Olivia’s plan is something you won’t even consider?”

She shot him an annoyed glare and rolled her eyes, but then she said, “If Barthelemy takes over Cordonia, Olivia is not going to be able to protect us. How can you not understand this?”

“Olivia will still be the Duchess of Lythikos, no matter who is acting as monarch. If she wants to offer us amnesty there, that is well within her capabilities.”

“But how do we know that she will be allowed to keep that title? Don’t Cordonian monarchs have the power to strip nobles of their titles if there is suspected criminal activity?”

“What are you talking about? How is Olivia a criminal?”

“I’m pretty sure aiding and abetting traitors and kidnappers is a fucking crime, Drake.”

“But Riley, we’re only going to be charged with those crimes if we flee the country. Or I guess if they figure out we fled the country at this point. If we go back now-”

“Yeah, I’m sure Barthelemy will just accept us keeping physical custody of Bridget if we go hang out in Lythikos. No way we can get charged with kidnapping her there if he decides he wants to take her and we say “no,” because being on Cordonian soil will magically protect us.”

Drake paused, rubbing the back of his neck. She had a point there. If, god forbid, Barthelemy’s plan was successful and he was able to get himself named king-regent, the issuing of treason charges for the two of them would probably be a matter of when, not if. As long as they insisted on keeping Bridget with them, which was obviously not up for debate, they likely would be charged and named as enemies of the state whether they were in Cordonia or in Greece. 

“Okay, let’s say there’s no way to prevent us being named traitors. I still think it’s worth considering that if we stay in Lythikos, we have a support system. We have a roof over our heads. We have food and clothing and money. We have friends who will help us. We don’t get anything like that if we stay in Greece.”

Riley shot him a look that was so withering, he wished he could crawl out of his skin. “And how do we guarantee that Barthelemy won’t freeze Olivia’s accounts and strip her of her title unless she turns us, known traitors and criminals, into his custody?”

“Again, she’s a duchess and head of one the the five major noble houses. Why are you so convinced that he would be able to have so much control over her legally guaranteed powers?”

“Because of what happened with Godfrey when we confronted him about Eleanor’s death.”

“He wasn’t just accused, Riley. We know he killed Liam’s mom.”

“But he wasn’t found guilty or anything. The king’s accusation was enough, right?”

Drake frowned and tried to remember the details of how things worked. He’d never bothered to pay that much attention to the intricacies of the nobility’s power structure during his schooling. After all, it was never going to matter to him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure the reigning monarch can strip any noble of their title for any reason. The noble in question can challenge it if they gain the support of the majority of the major houses, if I remember things correctly.”

“That makes it even worse, Drake! Are you telling me that Barthelemy, if he’s acting as king, could just strip Olivia of her title simply for not supporting him?”

He shook his head. “No, that would be unlikely. The Nevrakises can trace their lineage back past the birth of Cordonia. They are the longest standing major house, and they have made sure their family is well protected by the law. I can’t see Olivia losing her title.”

“But you can’t promise that she’s safe!”

Drake wanted to roll his eyes. The thought of anyone attempting to take Olivia’s title from her and walking away without serious bodily injury was laughable. But he knew that Riley was dangerously close to spiraling into a panicked mess again. So he tried to keep things steady.

“Riley, do you picture Olivia just sitting back and letting someone take Lythikos from her? I am sure her title is safe. Like I said, there are a lot of bylaws and exceptions that protect the Nevrakis family. Besides, a no-confidence vote in Liam is going to draw criticism from a decent amount of the people. He’s not an unpopular king. If Barthelemy removes a monarch and a duchess from a major house in quick succession, he’s going to risk a citizen uprising. Particularly in Lythikos.”

“But that won’t happen instantly, Drake. And Barthelemy could spin this, make Olivia look like she’s a traitor.”

“The citizens of Lythikos won’t buy that.”

“So what? Our plan is to count on a civil war where the citizens of Lythikos are willing to fight for Olivia’s right to shelter us? That seems like a far worse plan than just hiding out in a different country.”

Drake tried to suppress a sigh as he shook his head. “I think you are getting way ahead of yourself, here. We have no reason to believe Olivia will lose her title.”

“And again, I’m telling you that’s optimistic bullshit. Unless I just hallucinated Liam stripping Godfrey, a member of another major house, of all of his Cordonian titles when he was accused of a crime. Guess I got confused while I was almost dying while having to deliver a baby with almost no medical attention in a frickin’ palace bedroom.” Riley sank down on the side of the back seat, a hint of exhaustion noticeable behind the fire in her gaze.

Drake didn’t like to think about those hours before Bridget was born. He’d been scared shitless, trying to keep it together as it seemed more and more likely that there would be no medical care and that Riley or his child… or both might die as a result. They were some of the darkest hours of his life. He’d honestly had no recollection of slamming Bradshaw against the wall when Olivia had mentioned it hours later, everything just a giant blur of fear and anger and desperation, all without wanting to make things worse for Riley by letting her see how stressed he was.

But then Dr. Ramirez was there and in the blink of an eye, Bridget was crying in his arms, and Dr. Ramirez was acting like Riley was out of the woods. The earlier fears and struggles seemed so inconsequential as they held their daughter close. Saw her face. Wrapped her up and held her tight. And maybe naively, Drake had assumed with everything Riley had physically been through during her labor and delivery, that she’d kind of forgotten how dicey it had been since everything turned out okay. But hearing her now, it was clear she carried a lot of pain and fear from that time, even if she never had mentioned it before.

“Riley…” he started, crouching down in front of her, bracing himself on the open car door as he gently placed a hand on her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault,” she said with a little shrug.

Drake nodded, “Still, you should have never been in that position.”

“We should have never been in that position, Drake. Maybe you’re just blinded to how fucking bizarre this all is, because it’s all you’ve ever known, but half the things that have happened since I’ve been here are insane. And while delivering her in a palace under lockdown was one of the scarier ones, it isn’t the only time I’ve been in a position that I shouldn’t have had to handle.”

He knew she was right. Assassination attempts, photographers paid to catch her in her underwear, marriage alliances. All of it was kind of bullshit. But they’d always gotten through things together. He didn’t understand why this time she wanted to run and refused to face the problem head on. He didn’t know what to say, so he just gave her knee a squeeze he hoped was comforting and pushed himself up to standing, leaning against the side of the car next to her.

Riley bit her lip, bouncing Bridget on her lap. Bridget was getting crankier. Drake could see it clearly. They’d given her some of her rice puffs, the only snack they had in the diaper bag, which had helped placate her a little, but she was still obviously hungry. Add to the fact that she had been confined to their arms for hours, and it seemed like she was teetering on the edge of a total meltdown. She wanted to be set down, to crawl around and explore. She had no patience for being on the lam.

“Do you want me to take her?” Drake asked, holding out his arms, but Riley shook her head.

“No, I’ve got her.” Her arms tightened slightly around Bridget as she responded.

Drake frowned. Part of him was scared that if he pushed Riley any further right now, she might just bolt. But a bigger part of him knew that if they didn’t address this, that it was only going to get worse. And if they decided to stay in Greece, they were only going to have each other. Not trusting each other fully wasn’t an option.

“You don’t trust me with her.”

Riley swallowed slowly before glancing up and looking at Drake. He hadn’t exactly phrased his statement like a question, but Riley treated it as one anyway. “You’re oversimplifying things. It’s not that straight forward.”

He just shook his head, pushing off the car and resuming his earlier pacing. “It is, Riley. If you can’t answer ‘yes’ to that, well then you obviously don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you with her,” she said, her voice cracking slightly, “If you want to, you can hold her.”

Drake let out a sigh. “I’m not trying to turn this into a power struggle over who gets to keep her in their arms. That’s not… You’re acting like you’re the only parent here. You’ve decidedly unilaterally that our child has to leave the country. And that’s not fair.”

“You want to know what’s not fair, Drake?” Her voice was high pitched and fragile sounding, but her words were sharp and clear. This wasn’t her panicked ramblings of a couple of hours ago. This was a speech she’d held in her heart for a long time. “What isn’t fair is that your best friend showed up on our honeymoon, asking us for a wildly inappropriate favor with a heavy dose of guilt thrown on the side. What isn’t fair is that you agreed to it before even speaking to me about it. What isn’t fair is that if I hadn’t agreed to it, I would have been the bitch who rejected a guy when he was down on one knee and then forbid the guy I married, his best friend in the whole world, from helping him out.”

“Riley… I-” Drake wanted to try and soothe her, to acknowledge how much rougher everything had been than he could have envisioned when Liam showed up, solemn and resigned, with his request on that beach. But Riley wasn’t done.

“You called it an honor, Drake. That was how you phrased it. Tell me, was it an honor watching the press hound me for months, wanting to know every detail about my body? Was it an honor having to fend off two foreign powers who wanted some archaic marriage alliance with your unborn child? Was it an honor to feel backed into the corner and agreeing to one of those alliances to save my life? To save Bridget’s life? Was it an honor dragging her to balls and galas and events when she wasn’t even vaccinated yet? Because as I see it, this whole scheme has brought our family nothing but struggles and stress and sadness.”

“Of course all that shit sucked! But you don’t get to sit there and act like you are not complicit in almost every part of it. You agreed to it. You don’t get to blame me forever for a choice we both made.” Drake knew his phrasing was harsh, but it wasn’t fair for her to act like he’d forced her to do anything. If she had given him a firm “no” back then, that would have been that.

“You’re right - I should have fought you on this earlier. But I’m not going to just continue to roll along with it when it keeps hurting my child over and over again. So, I’m taking a stand now. I’m saying enough is enough. I’m done. I am not going to keep quiet about it anymore. I should have never agreed to name her heir. Hell, I should have never accepted the duchy.” There were tears trailing down her cheeks, but she held his gaze, steady and sure of her decision. Her arms locked tightly around Bridget as she squirmed on her lap, but she wasn’t distracted.

“Riley, if you had just told me-”

“Drake, I was clearly a reluctant participant from the start. Anytime I started to voice concerns, you just reassured me over and over. You never wanted to hear it.”

It was like the wind was knocked out of him. She really thought he was ignoring her serious objections intentionally? As far as he’d been able to tell, she had just wanted reassurance that she was still a good mom, in spite of all the royal pomp and drama. “Why was this the one fucking topic you decided to be coy about? Literally anything else on the planet you’ve always been blunt and direct with me. You’ve never beat around the apple tree. You called things as you saw them, at least when it was just the two of us. How was I supposed to know you were suddenly shy and reserved when it came to the biggest decision we have ever made?”

“I was afraid,” she said with a little shrug, her face downturned as she dropped a kiss to the top of Bridget’s head

“Of what?”

“Of making you choose between me and Liam.”

Drake let her words wash over him for a few moments before he responded. “Afraid about making me choose or afraid of what my choice would be?”

Her eyes flitted upward as she blinked out a few more tears. “Both, I guess. I felt bad enough that I was this… elephant in the room when it came to your friendship with him, but… I guess part of me was always a little worried that if I really drew a line in the sand, you would feel like you had to stick with him.”

Her words hurt. There was no point denying that. But at the same time, he understood. Not that he thought he might have ever picked his friend over his wife, but that feeling that others would always be more important, the fear that everyone would always just focus on Liam? Well, he got that feeling better than anyone, probably. Combine that with all her fears of abandonment, and he understood how she could have gotten to that point.

“Riley, if I wanted to put Liam’s needs first, I would have proposed to him, not you.” She let out a watery little chuckle at that, so Drake kept going, hoping he was on the right track. “You are my family. You are my whole world, okay? Bridget is the only one who’s as important to me. I love Liam like a brother, but I didn’t exchange vows with him. If you tell me you need me for something, that’s it.”

Riley tucked Bridget back against her hip with one arm and reached her other out towards Drake. He grabbed her hand and tugged her up to standing, wrapping his arms around her and Bridget tightly as she looped an arm around his neck and tucked her face against his shoulder. They stood like that for nearly a minute before Riley loosened her grip and let her hand slide down, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

“I get why you want to turn around and go back, but it doesn’t feel safe to me,” she said, her eyes focused on his shoulder. “We don’t know if Barthelemy has power or not. If he does, we are going to be labeled as traitors anyway, and Olivia’s protection might not be enough to keep our daughter safe by our sides. I can’t knowingly take that gamble, Drake. I just can’t.”

Drake nodded, sliding a hand up to the back of her head and holding her even tighter against him. “You know that we are taking the much more difficult option here, right? We could probably go back and renounce our titles and Bridget’s claim to the throne without any of those fears coming to pass.”

He felt Riley nod against his shoulder. Her voice was muffled as she said, “But do we even have the power to essentially abdicate for Bridget at this point? We were included in that no-confidence vote along with Liam.”

Drake leaned back slightly, needing to look Riley in the eyes. “I don’t know, Walker.”

She bit her lip and nodded again. “Then I can’t take that risk. I would rather face a crazy uphill battle as a family than watch her get ripped from our arms surrounded by Liam, Hana, Maxwell, and Olivia.”

“We’ll stay in Greece, then - on one condition.” Riley frowned at him, so he kept going quickly before she could imagine up all sorts of horrible restrictions he could throw at her. “From now on, we decide our next steps together. If we’re doing this as a family, you and I have to be on the same page. Because Riley, I don’t think we can count on anyone else’s support going forward. And this is going to be hard enough without us doubting and second guessing each other.”

He didn’t bring up the issue of trust again, knowing it would be a moot point. She was going to have to learn to not let her fears override her trust in him, because going forward, there wouldn’t be another option. Hopefully, he would be able to show her he meant what he said by sticking by her side. 

They held each other for a few more moments, but then Bridget started doing her crabby, whiny babble, unhappy with not only being forced to stay in their arms, but even more confined between both their bodies. So they broke apart, but Riley clutched his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Drake.”

He nodded at her, keeping his hand locked on her hers. Squinting, he thought he could make out Ray, coming back down the road, a shopping bag in one hand. “We should probably come clean to him at some point.”

Riley followed his gaze and sighed, but nodded. “How pissed is Olivia going to be?”

“I think she already suspects we crossed the border. But as for us not turning around?” Drake started, but his thought was interrupted by a buzzing in his back pocket. With his free hand, he tugged out his phone. “Well, I think we’re about to find out,” he said as he showed Riley Olivia’s name across the screen.

He took one last deep breath before swiping to accept her call. “Hey, Olivia.”

“It’s just me and Hana here,” she said, not sparing any time for pleasantries, “so you need to honestly let me how stupid you guys were. Did you guys leave the country?”

“Yes. We were already across the border before I called Liam.”

There was a brief pause before Olivia continued, “And what’s your plan now?”

He locked eyes with Riley and nodded at her before he responded, “I’m sorry. But we aren’t risking coming back.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256 @iaminlovewithtrr​

[gustafsnightangel]

A Softer Side Part 1

Karl was done with Delos Incorporated and their “Westworld”, the entire clusterfuck that had been the slice of a fictional western. Sure the pay was good, he’d thought the progression of his career would have been better, but as it turned out, they were all a bunch of computer nerds and fucking loonies playing god with AI. He was glad to see the back of that contract and sighed heavily as he stepped into his office.

“Back to the fucking grind.” He muttered as he sat at his desk, the depressing grey paint making the room appear much smaller and that much more suffocating.

It wasn’t that he hated his job, he thought as he logged into his computer to open his current case load, it just lacked excitement, something different to keep his mind sharp, his skills honed. He felt as if he was stagnating, the job had become monotonous. Bad guy fucks up, go out and catch bad guy, put bad guy in prison, watch bad guy walk on legal technicalities. If only he could be permanently attached to the private sector that caught the bad guys and shipped them off to Hades 6 or Hera 4, off planet facilities that housed the most wicked criminals.

******

Deep into catching up on a case there was a soft tap at the door. “Hey boss.”

Strand glanced up briefly and went back to the report he was reading. “Jerry.” He said his tone terse.

“I think you’re going to want to see this.” He said with a grim face.

“You think, or you know?” He growled, if there was one thing Karl hated it was indecisiveness. He was brutally honest, abrasive, and when it was called for violent. He expected people to get to the point quickly, hand over the information, and then fuck off until he needed them, never one for gossip or dancing around the topic. Most hated him for it, his boss didn’t, which was the only reason he still had a job after Westworld.

“I know.” Jerry said, finding his spine and stepping into Karl’s office and closing the door.

“Give me the short version.” Karl said as Hunt handed him the report, skimming over the highlights as Jerry told him much the same.

“It aligns with a semi cold case I’ve had on my desk for the past few months. There’s something about that one I couldn’t let go, you know?”

“I know.” He did, he had a few of them himself that he even took with him when he went over to the Delos debacle. Some just never leave you.

“I’m sure it’s the same gang as the Peter Jenson case. Location fits, state of the neighborhood etc.” Jerry fidgeted, antsy to get going.

“You want to check it out?” Karl asked and his brow furrowed at the witness account he was currently reading. Something about this called to him, there was more going on, that undeniable itch between the shoulder blades he couldn’t ignore.

“If you clear it yeah I wanna go poke around.” Jerry said with a touch more confidence. He was a good kid even though he was still so rookie green.

“I’ll come with.” He growled, slightly distracted as he pulled up one of his own cold cases.

“Something chimed for you too didn’t it?” Jerry smirked.

“Maybe, and that’s a big maybe. We all have cold cases Jerry and we have to go where the gut feelings take us.” He opened the file and flipped through to the infants description even though he knew it by heart as if the child had been right in front of him, not that she’d look anything like it now thirty plus years later. “Get your coat.” He breathed. Could it be her? “And wipe that damn smile off your face this isn’t a fucking social visit.” The rookie’s face dropped as he scurried away to collect his coat and notebook. “Talk to me sweet girl.” He murmured. “I’m looking for you, I haven’t given up, talk to me.” Closing out his case file he grabbed his weapon and coat and headed for the elevator. He was in a mood, she always put him in a mood, and the kid had copped it. “Sorry.” He said gruffly as they stood in the elevator.

“Sok, I was an idiot and you were right. This isn’t a social visit.” Jerry mumbled.

Karl stared at the ceiling and sighed to clear his head, he’d have to knock the green off this kid fast if he was going to make it past his first year as his partner. “You know they stuck you with an asshole of a partner right?”

“No, they stuck me with the best.” Hunt said quietly as he strode off the elevator toward their car leaving Strand standing there in slight disbelief.

“Well shit!” Muttering he walked to the car, his long strides eating up the concrete, he didn’t like compliments either. He wasn’t the best, far from it, he was an asshole and preferred it that way.

******

The car ride to the house was quiet, Karl driving while Jerry ran a cursory search over the tenant and told him what they could expect.

“A Mr. Arthur Donovan lives in the house alone, has always lived there alone since his wife died in childbirth. Damn that’s rough.”

“Dig into Mr. Donovan.” He growled as the traffic came to a standstill. “Priors, arrests, blips, fucking everything. I want to know what he had for breakfast three years ago on April 22.” The itch between his blades was tingling. What were they walking into a trap, fire fight, bomb? Something was off.

“Your spidey senses tingling boss?” Jerry asked as his fingers flew across the keys.

“My what?” He glared at the rookie.

“Spidey senses, you know, Spider-Man.” Jerry dropped it once he saw the murderous look on Strand’s face. “Never mind.” He sighed. “Mr. Arthur Donovan, age 64, retired janitor at multiple women’s and children’s hospitals. That must have been rough after his wife died.”

“Same work history, different name. And that’s if he even had a wife.” Karl muttered, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Check the wife.”

“Wife, Aileen Donovan, wow pretty girl, died giving birth to a baby girl who also died, she was 27.” Jerry stopped and looked at Strand. “Wait, you think this is him? The dude that’s been kidnapping infant girls for the last thirty something years and raising them up to be sold?” Jerry’s voice caught.

“If the shoe fits.” Karl snarled as the traffic eased forward at a snails pace. It fit, a little too well and why would he go back to his real name, or was he changing the name of his wife along with it all?

“That’s one of your colds isn’t it?” The kids voice was gentle.

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, how could he tell this kid that thought he was a god among men that he’d almost had the guy and watched him skate, slip through the net he’d cast because he was still too green himself to know any better.

“Shit boss. This makes my gang banger case look like nothing.” Hunt said quietly. “They’ve been after that guy for decades.”

“It isn’t nothing, you follow all leads, you do the job, you pursue every possible angle. My cold case isn’t anymore important than you fresh one. They both matter.” Snarling at the traffic Karl flicked on the lights, pulled onto the verge and got them out of the jam. It wasn’t exactly by the book and at times Karl didn’t give a shit, especially when he might be close to finding her.

******

They pulled up out the front of Arthur Donovan’s house and sat for a hot minute. Karl scanned the area taking note of the exits, neighbors, foot traffic and lack there of.

“You just know he has to have an escape plan.” He muttered more to himself than to Jerry. “Go knock on the door and ask your questions. If it’s the same guy he might know what I look like and I don’t want him spooked.” He said lowering the seat back so he wouldn’t be seen if Arthur looked in the car. “Call my cell and leave the line open. And before you ask, no this isn’t standard operating procedure. I don’t want him to rabbit if he smells something off. Go in ask your questions about your case only.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it Jerry. You say anything about those kids, that case we may lose the first fresh lead we’ve had in nearly twenty years.” He glared at the kid.

“Message received boss.”

“Get your head in the Peter Jensen case, that’s where it needs to be.”

Strand watched as the kid dialed his cell number and climb out of the car. Placing his call on mute he relaxed back and let the case filter through his mind. “Don’t blow this for me kid.” He sighed. Was she in there, he wondered, was she even still alive? “Yeah she’s still alive.” He sighed as he heard the knock on the door through the cell phone. “She was his first, she has to still be alive.” Karl listened to Jerry ask his questions, press for some details, and leave it at a ’were just door knocking for any information on Peter Jensen’. Karl would have pushed a little harder, but that was Karl, he was a hard ass and would make a stone cower given enough time.

“Is he watching?” Strand asked as Jerry got into the car.

“Yeah, it spooked him. I’m sorry.”

“You did good kid. Now we go back to the office and dig. I want fucking everything on this guy and how it correlates to those girls. Something’s fucking off.”

“It felt like it when I was standing there. An odd sense something wasn’t quite right.”

“Learn to take note of those feelings, they’re rarely wrong. If he’s not involved with my case or yours, he’s involved in something he shouldn’t be.” Karl looked at the kid. “He still watching?”

“Not that I can see without it being obvious. The curtains are flat and still.” He said typing furiously to get his notes into his report while they were fresh.

“Good enough.” Karl raised his seat, turned the key in the ignition, and drove off barely giving anyone looking in the car enough time to be sure it was him driving. “When we get back write up your report on Jensen and then read the file on Jane Doe 69384.”

“Your cold?”

“Yeah, we need to dig and dig deep, you want in?”

“Fuck yeah.” Jerry was all but vibrating in his seat. “I know some of it from the news reports.”

“Not all of it kid, there was a lot we left out, deliberately.” He set the car to cruise and relaxed back. “Read the file, then we’ll talk. This gets our attention until we run out of leads again or catch the son of a bitch.”

“We catch him this time.” Jerry said gently. “This time he goes away.”

The kids sentiment choked Karl up, this case had him by the balls. If only I had your faith in me kid, he thought inwardly. I’ve failed her so many times now I’ve lost count.

“Does it keep you awake at night?” Jerry asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, the kid didn’t need his nightmares, he would have ones of his own soon enough.

******

Strand left Jerry to do as he’d instructed and headed into his office to start digging into Arthur Donovan. Jerry had sent him over everything he’d found on their drive over to Donovan’s and it set that itch alight as he scanned the hospitals he’d worked at. “You fucker.” He seethed. “You careful fucker.” The hospitals didn’t match while he was working there, the timeline was off for each snatch by two or three months after he’d moved on. “No way was it going to be that easy.” He poured over the entire case file, witness reports from the mothers, hospital staff, forensic evidence, which wasn’t much, and it was tugging on heartstrings no one knew he had. Karl Strand was a hard ass, he didn’t have heart strings, except for her, except for these poor girls that had been snatched from loving parents and used and abused before being sold like cattle. Yes he had fucking heart strings for them and a raging hatred for the man that had eluded him for so long.

Jerry knocked on his door and handed him the report on the Jensen case and looked at the twelve banker boxes of files stacked in the corner of Strand’s office. “Can I take one?”

“Sure. Each box holds about ten case files.”

“He’s taken that many?” The rookie visibly blanched.

“Yeah, he’s slowed down in the past few years. I used to get about three new cases a year before I left for that Westworld shithole. I’m hoping it stays quiet and we don’t have to add anymore.”

“Hard fucking same.” Jerry hesitated before placing a hand on one of the boxes, the kid had respect for the dead, that was what endeared him to Karl. They weren’t just case files or a job, they were people.

“Their stories aren’t pretty.”

“No, I imagine not. Did they ever find the ones that were sold?”

“No, were still looking.” Karl’s tone was flat, something else he’d failed at. Though it was difficult to find someone when you knew nothing about them or what they looked like. “The DB’s are likely related, there’s no way to be sure until we have him in a cage and put the thumb screws to him.”

“Who are you looking for?” He asked tentatively.

“His first.”

“Makes sense.”

“How so?” It intrigued him that the rookie would say that.

“Pedifiles, sex rings, human trafficking, the perpetrators almost always keep their first one close. It reminds them of the power they have, the ease at which they achieved abducting the person. It’s also, most of the time, their undoing. If you find her she’s going to know everything about every child that he stole, every in and out of his operation. She’s the linchpin.”

Spoken like a thirty year veteran, Karl thought. “You’ll do.” He said nodding. “You’ll do just fine kid.” The slight smile told Strand, Jerry was keeping his jubilation at being praised to a minimum, the kid was trying. “Book a conference room, set it up, get reading, I’ll be in shortly. We work this until it goes cold again or we nail this asshole.”

“I’m down with that boss.” Jerry stopped at the door before he went through it and turned to Karl.

“What is it?”

“Do you think the neighbors might have seen her?” He asked meekly.

“I doubt it, but we’ll certainly be asking when we canvas.” He nodded his head to Jerry to say get out and went back to his own report to Meekland.

An hour or so later Meekland knocked on Strands door. “Ma’am.” He offered a seat but she remained standing, that glint in her eye that she wasn’t in the mood for bullshit.

“You’re testing my patients Strand. Do you really have time to open this case, again?” She asked. Meekland wasn’t some girly girl, she was just as much a hard ass as Strand which was why they go along so well even if it was just sniping at each other. The reality of it they were oil and water.

“I do with Hunt. Somethings off. The kid has good instincts and even he knew something’s screwy when he interviewed Donovan. I’m not saying it’s him, but it damn well could be and I’m not letting it slide because you think I don’t have time. I’ll fucking make time, do it on my own if I have to, but I need to run this out. See where it leads.” He ran his hand over his scalp. “I have to fucking try.”

“Cross you t’s, dot your i’s, and send me a report once you’ve dug into it a bit. I can’t promise you resources, but plead your case and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I have resources if you can’t swing it.” He growled.

“I know you do, but let’s not go that far until we have no other choice.” She studied him a moment. “You’re a good man Strand, even if you are a prickly asshole.” She smirked at his huffed chuckle, that coming from her was as good as winning employee of the year award. “Keep me in the loop.” She said as she turned on her heel and left.

******

Karl walked into the smaller conference room a while later to see Jerry kicked back with a coffee, feet on the table, note pad and case files piled into sections. Maybe a fresh set of eyes was what this case needed he thought.

“Hey boss.” He said without looking up from the current file he had his nose buried in, hand scrawling notes of his own.

“Care to explain what you’re doing with my case files?” He growled.

Without missing a beat he stood and added the file in his hand to one of the stacks. “So I’ve gone through your notes from when these cases came in, the hospitals, as that seemed a good place to start. It’s related to the case more strongly than his name or residence. Each stack is each hospital he abducted children from. There’s one pattern that fits all of these hospitals, the first child was stolen on the date his wife and child died. He only takes girls and there is about a two to three month window where the girls go missing which if I were to guess would be the wife’s birthday and their anniversary. Only three kids per hospital, then he packs up and leaves.”

“But the girls go missing after he finished his employment at each hospital. For example he was in Atlanta working when the girls from Alabama went missing.” Karl pushed.

“I’m guessing he has a house somewhere where he can leave the kids with someone so he can scout the next location.”

“That’s a leap Hunt.”

“I know but...” He shrugged as Karl stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the board.

“It’s a leap I didn’t see.” He sighed. “Run it through, work it, see where it leads you. I wonder if he leaves them with the first girl?” He pondered. “She’d be mid thirties now at least.”

“Brainwashed, tortured, and raised by a monster.” Jerry muttered.

“Indeed. Keep working it, I’ll be back in a few.” He needed some air, and food. Maybe I’m too close, he thought as he stopped off at the burger joint down the street. The memory of the kids mother screaming, grieving in his arms as she begged him to find her, the stupid rookie in him promising her he’d do so. The infant had already been gone sixteen years when he was handed the case, many more had been stolen in that time, the cops too busy to listen to a hysterical mother. The investigation went cold and it was only after the mother visited him to see if there were any developments that he began to dig, on his own time, every night an hour after shift had finished. That’s when he’d uncovered more, when he’d found the details horrific enough to churn even his iron stomach. No one had listened to the mother of the first child taken. She’d been told she was delusional, she was depressed, she was mistaken. Karl had been the one to bust it wide open. Bust it open to watch it go stone fucking cold as things in the department were kept under wraps, swept under the rug, buried. He’d always wondered if it was an inside job or some of the people here were in on it.

That girl would be a few years younger than he was now, mid to late thirties. What do you look like, he wondered? Will I know you when I meet you? Will you help me take this asshole down or has he corrupted you so completely you’ll do anything to get back to him, protect him? “We have to find you first sweet girl.” He muttered as he got onto the elevator. “I will find you.” He swore.

******

Strand came into the conference room to find Jerry in the exact same position as before but with a laptop open and currently searching through a database of some kind.

“Fuel up kid.” He said gruffly and tossed the bag with a burger and fries on the only section of table that wasn’t covered by case files. “Keep the files clean.”

“Thanks.” He blew out a breath, grabbed the food and pushed his chair away from the table to give himself some room. They chowed down in silence and it was only after Jerry had finished and took a few deep breaths that he noticed Strand looking at him.

“You need to get some rack time, if you don’t come up for air it’ll consume you.” Karl said honestly.

“In a bit. I want to show you something.” He pressed a few keys on the laptop and walked Strand through his findings. “I had to dig for info on the wife, I don’t think Donovan’s his legal last name and I don’t think the wife had the child in a hospital. If they did it would be on record. Either that or he’s been changing it as he’s progressed, something along the lines of keeping her alive or with him maybe? Which tells me he either knows how to hack, or he’s got someone on the payroll to do it for him. Speaking of payroll, I want to dig for the money, how much to you think he makes per girl?”

“Six figures at least depending on the buyer.” Strand said flatly, it wasn’t a favorite topic of conversation, but he could see where the kid was going with this, they were dealing with a syndicate not just a lone operator. Something he’d floated past his old partner and it was dismissed just as quickly, that had sparked his curiosity at it being an inside job.

“I think it’s more than that. 120 girls in these boxes at let’s say $100K and change, that’s 12 mil, over thirty something years. It’s a drop in the bucket. I think we’re looking at closer to $800K to a mil per kid, maybe more, and I also think it depends of who they’re going to and at what age they’re sold at.” Jerry wasn’t smiling now.

“Experience and age.” He added bluntly.

“Yeah.” Jerry blew a breath out. “I can sniff through Donovan’s accounts, but I don’t know if I have enough for a warrant to cover my ass.”

“Not yet but we’ll add it to the list.” He tapped his finger on his knee thinking. “Go as deep into the financials as you can without sending up any red flags, keep in on the down low.”

Jerry nodded. “I also believe there are more kids we don’t know about.”

“Why do you say that?”

“A hunch. Three kids a year, ish. Those are the groomed ones, the ones raised to be, for a lack of a better term, a fuck toy for some sicko. Those would be the premium priced merchandise. How do they make their milk money? The day to day?”

“Fuck! You’ve got a point.” Strand stared at the board, why hadn’t he pushed this line of inquiry all those years ago? Now he really felt like an asshole.

“I’m running all homeless girls and kidnappings in the database against dates and places of each infant taken.”

“And?”

“We’re getting hits and it’s still not done.” He glanced at Karl. “I have no clue if they’re related to this case but it’s worth a look.”

“Damn right it’s worth a look.” He was angry at himself for not pushing it sooner. Pulling out his phone he called Meekland. She wasn’t happy at being disturbed at nine at night but that was the job. He laid it out for her and she agreed to come in for a briefing. “What else you got kid, you’re keeping the ace to yourself I can see it.”

“I think he’ll strike again, and soon.” Jerry blew out.

“He hasn’t in a few years what makes you so sure?”

“I think he may have been sick or taking a break, something happened to give him that gap. Retired and took a holiday? Maybe things were too hot? Think about it, his kids birthday is coming up. I have no record of an Arthur Donovan working at any hospitals in the last forever. He’s changed his name again, maybe he changed his supply source? I don’t know boss I’m just thinking out loud here.”

“Where’s he working?”

“That’s the thing, he’s not, he’s retired.”

“Still doesn’t stop him from taking babies.” Strand spat. “And what’s the bet he had different aliases for every day of the fucking week? This guys a ghost.”

“Which is why we need a warrant to dig into his financials and employment records of each hospital. He can change his name but his face is a different story. Facial recognition can pin him pretty solidly.”

“This had better be fucking worth dragging me back here Strand.” Meekland snapped as she walked in.

“Sit down Sarah and listen to the kid, don’t interrupt.” He snapped back. Jerry froze, talking to Karl was one thing but the boss lady, shit! Her arched eyebrow made Jerry gulp. “Go ahead Hunt.” Karl said his eyes never leaving hers.

Jerry gave Meekland the report almost verbatim.

“We need a warrant for what we’ve found and what we’re going to find when we keep digging.”

“Dig first, then the warrant.” She put up her hand. “You and I both know we don’t have enough for one right now. Get me more Jerry and you’ll get your warrant. It’s circumstantial at best but it has weight. Let’s tighten the grip before we spook him.”

“Stakeout.” Karl demanded. “I want him fucking tagged and monitored, I want to know his every fucking move even if I have to go do it myself.”

“You may have to, we don’t have the budget for this Karl.” She snapped. Was she fucking stonewalling him?

“Then I’ll do it on my own time Sarah. I’m not losing the one fucking lead we’ve got.” He snapped and stormed from the room toward his office, Meekland hot on his heels. Jerry was left in their wake and breathed out carefully before getting back to it.

“What is with you?” He raged as she closed his office door.

“What’s with me? You need to take a step back and think about who you’re addressing Strand.” She shot back.

“Don’t throw that in my face Sarah. Why do you fucking stonewall me at every turn on this, they’re solid leads.”

“Because you’re too close to this Karl and it’s consuming you. Yes they’re solid leads I’ll give you and Hunt that. It’s more than what we’ve had to go on in a long time, but we need more and you know it.”

“Then give me some surveillance and let me get it for you.” He snarled and snatched his head away as she went to touch him. He couldn’t get involved with her again, although his body yearned for it, his cock twitching.

“You and I need a good sweaty night together.” She purred, her fingers trailing the buttons of his dress shirt. “I’ve missed you.” He didn’t pull away this time as her fingers trailed his chest.

“You’ve missed my cock.” He quipped, the scent of her stirring his system.

Her smirk told him as much. “That too.”

His fingers gripped her chin firmly and he devoured that lush mouth, taking what he wanted. He’d missed her too, her taste, the feel of her around him. She was bad news, but he had little restraint when it came to her.

“Let me make you feel good sir.” She whispered, her hand dropping to palm his hardening length, her eyes searching his for approval.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.”

He let her chin go and walked over to check it himself. This wasn’t the first or last time they’d do this here. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, strictly sex, no attachment, consensual. He’d never done anything she was uncomfortable with. Crooking his finger at her to come hither she did without question and sank to her knees as he pointed to the floor in front of him.

“There’s my good girl.” He growled, her eyes never leaving his. She was hungry for him, the desire in her eyes making him smirk. “On your knees.” Unzipping his suit pants he let them fall to the floor, his briefs following a moment later as she sank to her knees, eyes never leaving his. “Open.” He commanded quietly and watched as those perfect lips opened for him. He gave her the tip, that clever tongue darting out to lick and suck him, the sensation making him groan softly, fuck she felt good. It had been far too long. Sinking his fingers into her hair he fisted them there and plunged into her mouth. She never disappointed him, taking him all the way in and letting him fuck that pretty mouth as he wished. His hips pistoned hard until he was right on the edge of blowing his load and then pulled her off him, the slight whimper of disappointment echoed on her face. “You’ll get it all little one.” He growled. “Up.” He commanded and held out a hand for her to rise.

Turning them sharply he pinned her against the wall, her ass pressing into his erection. “We haven’t done it like this for a while.” He purred as he put her hands above her head against the wall and nipped her neck. “Is this what you want little one?”

“I want to make you feel good sir.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” He snarled, pinching her nipple painfully through her blouse as he bit her neck. “Is this what you want?” His fingers busy between her legs, stroking into her heat as the other cupped a breast harshly.

“Yes sir.” She moaned softly as his fingers moved her panties to the side and hiked her skirt up more to bunch at her waist. He moaned his approval at the thigh high stockings and suspenders and snapped them hard. Her small yelp making him grin.

“Spread your legs and drop your hips.” He murmured, the tone demanding her compliance. Taking a small step back from her, she did as she was instructed as he stroked his cock. He swiped his tip through her heat and circled her entrance, the soft whimpers making him harder. “Are you going to take all of me like a good girl?” He asked as he stood between her open thighs and snaked his hands under her shirt.

“Yes sir.” Came her breathy whisper.

His hands yanked down the bra until the straps dug into her shoulders and his hands were filled with her fleshy breasts. Fingers squeezed her nipples and rolled them as he inched inside her, the feel of her tight pussy enveloping him almost too much to bear. Once fully seated inside her he feasted on her neck as he thrust. He wasn’t a gentle lover, he liked it rough and hard, skating the dangerous line between pleasure and pain.

He gave her what she asked for, took what he wanted. Pounding into her with long deep strokes, his hand snaked up to grip her throat, the gentle squeeze his branding of her. “Mine.” He growled at her ear, that gravelly tone rumbling out of him.

“Please sir.” She whispered as her orgasm peaked.

“Please sir what?” He snapped, reminding her of who she was talking to.

“Please sir may I come?”

“No.” He wasn’t ready for it to end yet and continued to fuck her, taking his fill of her tight little pussy.

“Please sir.” She choked as she fought to hold it off.

“No.” He pounded into her, took her, claimed her. Her whimper turned into a soft cry as his finger moved from her nipple to her clit, the hand at her throat squeezing slightly harder. He felt her body tense, the internal fight to hold off her orgasm. Letting it ride for a few moments longer he nipped her ear before uttering the one command she desperately wanted. “Come.” He growled and she exploded around him, that tight pussy milking him as he pistoned his hips in fast hard strokes until he came. Riding her hard, the need to fuck to prolong their pleasure he pistoned his hips.

“Thank you sir.” She smirked and he slapped her ass.

“Don’t sass me.” His tone low and savage as he pressed her to the wall hard still inside her as they caught their breath.

“Come over this weekend, please? I miss you.” She said as they stood there.

“I can’t Sarah, you know we can’t.”

“Why because I’m your boss?” She played.

“That’s exactly why and you know it.” He scoffed and pulled out of her, the soft whimper from his exit made him smile. Straightening her panties he lowered her skirt over her hips and pulled his briefs and suit pants up. “It’s just sex Sarah, you know that too.”

Turning she rested against the wall while she tidied herself up. “I know, I just want a weekend where we can disappear and you can fuck my brains out.”

“Not right now.” There was too much going on. “This case is my priority.”

“Understood. I’m here when you need to blow off steam Karl. Thanks for the quick fuck, it’s what I needed.” She straightened his shirt collar and headed for the door, the gleam in her eyes telling him she wasn’t happy about being denied. “You get a week surveillance, not a second more, use it wisely. The rest is on your own time.”

“Copy that.” He smirked, who said screwing the boss didn’t get you anywhere.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden

[notyetneedcoffee]

Not Exactly A Classic Dame (1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (platonic friendship between Steve x OFC)

Warnings: None this Chapter, but later

Bucky Master List / Main Master List

* * *

CHAPTER 1

“Stop growling.” Steve Rogers chuckled at his friend as the crowd of technicians parted like the Red Sea as they passed.

“I ain’t growling.” Bucky Barnes, former Winter Soldier and newest resident at the Avenger Compound, muttered beside him. Granted, his nerves coiled his hands into fists and his head ached from the scowl he’d been sporting since the jet arrived three hours ago.

“Uh-huh.” Came the light-hearted laugh.

“I don’t like all the attention, okay.” Bucky leaned closer. So far, he’d been hauled into a meeting room and briefed on all the rules of the compound, ran through a mind-blowingly fast course on all the technology, been swept into a lab to be thoroughly examined and scanned, had all of his meager belonging searched, and treated more like a potential threat than a possible member of the team.

Steve stopped, resting a steady hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s a lot. I get it.” He sighed, looking at it from the other man’s perspective. “It probably doesn’t feel all that friendly either. We’ve all been here so long, that we’re hit with the changes a little a time. Having to submit to it all at once has got to be weird. Really, though, all this tech – F.R.I.D.A.Y., and all – it's not bad.”

“Fine.” Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Just so long a Stark’s fucking nerds keep out of my way and allow me some privacy.”

“Don’t worry.” Steve grinned, pulling his friend along to their last appointment. “And they’re not all bad.”

“Are we getting lunch soon? How much more orientation crap can there possibly be?” Bucky grumbled.  

“After this. I want to get you hooked up with Harper so you have everything you need for outside the compound.” At his friend’s raised eyebrow, he clarified. “You know, personnel stuff - alternate IDs, funded credit cards, make sure you don’t trigger facial recognition software on some security network if you’re out and about. I don’t think we can do much about metal detectors, though.” He joked.

Buck stopped walking, mouth dropping open a little. Steve gave him a distinct ’what’ look. “Isn’t that all a little on the wrong side of legal?”

“Depends on what country you’re in.” Steve smirked and continued down the hall.

Bucky smiled for the first time. “The spies are rubbing off on you.”

“No, I’m just realizing what needs to be done in order to do the right thing. I have more trust in the people I’m around than the governments running the show. And Harper is good people.”

Music drifted towards them. Bucky didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean much. It had a good tempo and lots of guitar. When Steve swung the office door open, the volume of music quadrupled making Bucky wonder how someone could work amongst the distraction. Banks of monitors took up one wall and in front sat Harper.  

“Hey Cas!” Steve shouted over the music, grinning like an idiot over the stunned look on Bucky’s face.  

Cassidy Harper spun around on her stool, one leg tucked under her, and a brilliant smile on her full red lips. Bucky found himself smiling back at this beautiful woman, curved in all the right places, wearing blue jeans and no shoes. From beneath her dark blue t-shirt a tattoo covered her left arm from shoulder to elbow. It was her shiny black hair, held back in a red handkerchief and victory curls that did him in. Actual victory curls.  

She hit a button, killing the music before hopping down onto her bare feet and giving Steve a hug. The top of her head only come to his chin, still Cas rose up on tip toes and threw her arms around his neck. Bucky noticed the red of her toe nails matched the red on her lips. “Steve!”

“Hey, Cas. Thanks for making time.” He hugged her back, lifting her off her feet a little before turning back to Bucky. “This is him. Buck, this is Cassidy Harper.”

“I’ve heard so much about you.” Cas opened her arms. “I’m a hugger. May I?”  

He chuckled and stepped forward. She warmly wrapped her arms around his neck and he tentatively placed his hands on her waist. It’d been a long while since anyone just wanted such casual contact. Usually, he didn’t like strangers touching him, but this felt good. She smelled of mint and something slightly citrus. Fresh.  

“So,” Cas hopped back onto her stool, flashing a devilish grin. “Stevie says I’m to hook you up with whatever you want. What’s it going to be?”

“Um?” Bucky looked back and forth between the two, not quite understanding.  

“Were you able to scrub him from the watch dog systems?” Steve leaned against a bank of cabinets.  

“Yeah, it was easy actually. Nothing at all like you - Steve 'My Face Is On Boxes Of Corn Flakes' Rogers.” She swung her foot around in circles, the momentum bringing her to face Bucky. “You’ve taken ghosting to an art form, sweetheart.”

He just shrugged.  

“What about IDs?” Steve continued.

Cas reached around and handed Bucky a manila envelope. “There’s two to start. One in your real name, and one under Edward Porter. Both have bogus birth records, passports, New York driver’s licenses, concealed weapons permits, bank accounts, and couple credit cards. There’s a 100k limit on them. Let me know if you need more.”

Bucky cocked his head. “That was my granddad’s name.”

“I asked Steve some questions. It’s best to keep lies easy to remember.” She shrugged.  

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Not to Stark.” She waved a hand.  

“So,” She turned back to her computer. “I assume they’re going to have you staying here for a while, so no get-away pad. What about wheels? Do you intend to just borrow from the fleet, or do you want something of your own? You into something sporty? Or you want a truck like our friend here? Maybe a motorcycle?”

“A bike.” Came his fast answer.

“Yay.” Cas gave a little cheer. “What kind? Cruiser? Crotch-rocket? Or -”

“Harley Panhead.”

“Nice.” Her fingers started flying over the keyboard as she searched for the classic motorcycle, images flashed across multiple screens faster than the men could follow. She stopped, settling on a shiny black updated and rebuilt model for an exorbitant price. “How about that? Is she sexy or what?”

“Sure is, Doll.” Bucky drawled. Completely, taken by more than just the bike.

“Kinda pricey.” Steve commented. “Stark going to question you on this one?”

“Tony can kiss my round right ass cheek.” Cas rolled her eyes. “I just rooted out a Taiwanese ring that was plagiarizing one of his applications and saved him fifty times that amount – last Tuesday – on my lunch break. I’m in good graces right now, so I’m sharing the spoils.”

“Okay.” Steve laughed raising both hands in surrender. “Just asking”

“Now, we’ve covered identification, cash, transportation. It’s not my official job, but are you all set up in your apartment? Please don’t let Steve help you. He’s got all the taste of an army barracks in a black and white movie.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed while Cas giggled. “You liked the Christmas gift I gave you, and that was for your apartment.”

“Yes. I love it.” Cas beamed. “But it’s color pencil of my old dog – that you drew yourself – and it’s beautiful. That does not make you Martha Stuart.”

“I don’t need much. What’s there is fine.” Bucky suddenly felt uncomfortable. He realized Steve must really care for her if he’d given her a piece of his art. Back in the war, he didn’t show many people how well he could draw. He almost never gave it away, even a tiny sketch. A surprising flood of disappointment washed over him.

“Bullshit.” Cas scoffed.

“Language.” Steve rolled his eyes, but she stuck out her tongue at him.

“Really. It's fine.” Bucky buried his hands in his pockets. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need.”

Steve saw the swing in his friend’s mood, not understanding why, but attributing it to hunger. He wanted lunch even before they arrived. “Okay, what do you say we head out and let Cas get back to work. We’ll go get lunch.” Bucky nodded.

Cas felt the change too. She hopped from her workstation and threw an arm sideways around Steve’s waist for a brief moment. “Thanks for the visit and the introduction.” Turning back to Bucky, she bumped his shoulder with her own. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear when the bike is supposed to arrive. I can’t wait to see it.”

“Thanks. Me too.” He smiled back at her, but this time it didn’t brighten his eyes.  

[elisaphoenix13]

(FT)Accidents Happen

Guys, this idea came to me in a dream, and after some positive feedback on it, I decided to write it. This is connected to Supreme Family Chaos but is not officially part of it. This is kind of a 'what if' situation and possibly future canon. If you would like to see more of this, let me know! Any rude comments will be ignored and reported.

**FT stands for Future Timeline**

_______________

A whole freaking year. That's how long they managed to stay under the radar after he and Cassie ran. Why did they run in the first place?

Fucking Parker luck.

It didn't matter that Peter changed his last name and took Tony's, he was still a Parker and he still had shitty luck. Granted, it wasn't all bad, at least so far, but it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. It was a miracle they were able to hide this long but that was only because Peter knew how far Tony's reach was (everywhere electonically), and he and Cassie had both taken precautions to destroy or dispose of their hair so Stephen couldn't use that tactic.

The problem though? Peter had gotten Cassie pregnant. They definitely used protection, but the damn protection broke, and so they panicked. They ran. They were both afraid of their parents combined wrath and Peter wanted to be able to take responsibility before Scott killed him. Peter juggled three jobs that paid him under the table so nothing could be tracked to them and so Cassie and the baby wanted for nothing. He, on the other hand, needed to eat more and get some sleep. With three jobs and an infant, sleep was a luxury. He always got up to help with the baby though and Cassie was starting to worry about his health (though he didn't know it).

When they went off the radar, so did Spiderman. Peter hated the idea that he wasn't doing something good with his powers, but his family was more important. Besides, being Spiderman just made his metabolism even faster and it he could barely keep up with it as it was. Peter had a new appreciation for what May and Tony had done to keep him fed. It was expensive.

"Peter."

Brown eyes snap open and Peter rubs his face before looking up at Cassie from his position on the couch. "Yeah. I'm awake. What's wrong?" He asks, his voice gravelly after his unexpected nap.

Cassie sits on the edge of the couch and brushes back a loose lock of hair from the male's forehead. "...maybe I'll just go to the store by myself. I can take Emma with me so you can get some more sleep."

"Nope." Peter sits up with a groan. "What do we need?"

"Food if we want to eat dinner. Unless you want a carrot and mayonnaise sandwich."

"That sounds disgusting. Grocery store it is."

Peter rubs the last remnants of sleep from his eyes as he gets off the couch and goes into the bedroom to retrieve their daughter. To his surprise, Emma was awake and gurgling happily so he didn't feel as bad scooping her up. When she was first born, Peter had been terrified to hold her. It took a lot of reassurance on both his and Cassie's part before he finally did and he was hyper aware of his strength whenever he did. Even now. He was always careful even after three months had passed.

After a diaper check, he holds her against his shoulder as he grabs the diaper bag and rejoins Cassie out by the door. She trades him his wallet and keys for the bag and they leave their one bedroom apartment, locking it up, and head out of the building and to the parking lot.

A car was one of the first things they got after they ran. Peter had cashed out his savings account, which was thankfully nothing to sneeze at since his father was a billionaire, and it had gotten them a reliable car and a small apartment. Everything was always paid in cash though, and whatever was left over was put away for emergencies. Or in their case three months ago, the hospital bill and something extra so Peter could hack into their system and keep the baby's birth certificate from Tony's (FRIDAY'S) grasp. The lock on the file wouldn't last long if Tony did come across it, but it would at least last long enough that they would be able to tell their parents themselves. It also helped that a birth certificate would be one of the last things they looked for.

He and Cassie may legally be adults now, Peter being nineteen and Cassie eighteen, but they didn't want to run forever. He just wanted long enough to prove that he could support his family despite the toll it was taking on Peter's health. If he hadn't been bitten by the spider, he was pretty sure things would be a lot easier.

Maybe he would only have to juggle two jobs instead of three.

____________________

"Tony." Stephen calls softly.

The engineer snaps out of his daze and looks up from the cold cup of coffee in his hands, sighing as he throws it into the microwave to heat it back up. "Sorry. Kind of clocked out there. Were you saying something?"

The sorcerer sighs. "No. I..." Stephen sighs. "I'm feeling useless again."

That was the norm for them nowadays, but it bothered Stephen even more because he felt like magic should have been able to track down Peter and Cassie. Nothing worked though. The kids had been thorough about hair and erasing their tracks and Tony didn't even know why they ran in the first place. Peter was happy. He was accepted into MIT and he planned on staying at the tower and using Stephen's portals as transportation, just so he could continue to see his friends and Cassie. Tony had tried to get him to move into the dorms, but the teen didn't have any interest in that so the engineer didn't fight him about it. Especially since Mama Bear agreed to the portals. Peter would only have to drive out if Stephen had some Sorcerer Supreme things to attend to and wouldn't be back to open a portal for him.

Cassie was happy as far as they knew too. Scott knew about the kids relationship and it took Steve telling the ex-criminal that it was better Peter, someone he knew, than a random teenage boy. Scott had relented and agreed that it was the better situation but he still hovered every once in a while.

Then they left? Nothing made sense.

"Babe...we talked about this. I get it. I do. Don't you think I feel useless too? I should have been able to find them on cameras or something months ago but--"

"This is Peter we're talking about." Stephen finishes. "I know that. I'm just worried." He whispers.

Tony sighs. "I want some kind of sign that they're okay too. I'm telling you, when we find them, I'm grounding Underoos forever. I'm going gray way too fast."

"My magic doesn't work like it used to."

Because he was upset, but that didn't need to be said again. Tony already knew. Wong had to take over Stephen's Sorcerer Supreme duties recently because of it. Another thing his husband was kicking himself for.

The microwave beeps and Tony takes out his coffee and sips at it. "Boss." FRIDAY's voice filters through the penthouse.

"What Fri?"

"I've found an image at a grocery store north of  the city. I've confirmed a person in it to be Cassie Lang."

Tony's eyes widen and he abandons his coffee on the counter as he asks his AI to put the image on the television in the living room. Stephen follows him and the couple freeze when they look at the image. It was definitely Cassie, and the boy beside her was unmistakably Peter (they knew those brown waves anywhere) but his back was to the camera.

"FRIDAY, is there a recording?" Tony asks.

"Playing back now."

Everything seemed normal. The teens were shopping for food, Peter grabbing things for Cassie whenever she pointed something out, but Tony noticed that the boy's other arm remained in one position. Just as his mind was coming up with a possible explanation, Peter turned toward the camera and revealed the bundled burden in his arm.

"Oh my god." The engineer gasps out.

Stephen gapes at the repeating video for a few moments before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well now we know why they ran. Do we tell Scott that we found them?"

"We have to." Tony says. "We'll just keep the little detail about the baby from him for now. He's going to be mad enough at Peter as it is. Fri, have Scott come up. Tell him we found the kids but don't say anything about the baby."

"Yes, Boss."

____________________________

"Pizza's on its way." Peter says as he puts down his phone. Something he put under a fake name and also paid for in cash.

Cassie looks over the couch. "Okay. I fed the baby and put her back down. Maybe you should get some sleep until the food gets here."

"Yeah...okay. I'm too tired to argue." The older teen says as he walks over and gives his girlfriend a kiss. "Wake me up if you need me beforehand."

Cassie nods and goes back to watching her tv show when Peter retires to the bedroom, and he faceplants into the bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but no matter how tired he was, he always kept an ear out for Cassie and Emma. It was a habit he made as Spiderman and it wasn't one he was going to snuff out. It was extremely useful, especially if his spider senses didn't warn him of any danger. There never was danger since his hearing usually only picked up when the baby woke up and started crying, but he was always prepared otherwise.

That's why he was able to react when he heard Cassie scream. He was out of the bed (and the bedroom) before he even blinked away the haze caused by sleep, and had tackled whoever was outside the open door.

"Peter! Wait!" Cassie says as she grabs the arm he had raised to punch the intruder.

The older teen blinks up at her before looking down at his victim, and his stomach churns when he finds himself looking at Tony. "D-Dad?!"

Peter scrambles off of his groaning father and Tony rubs the back of his head with a grimace after Stephen helps him to his feet. They weren't the ones that had Peter worried though. It was Scott. He was with them too and he was fuming. It was really the appropriate response, but this wasn't how they wanted to do things. He and Cassie weren't sure how to approach their parents, but this definitely wasn't on the list of ideas. At least Emma hadn't been woken up by her mother's scream. Scott probably would have been pummeling him by now.

Not that it wouldn't happen anyway. Peter was expecting to be beaten within an inch of his life.

"H-how...how did you find us?" Peter finally asks with a gulp.

"A camera at the grocery store." Tony replies and thanks Cassie when she invites them in.

Peter turns white as a sheet. There was no way they didn't see the baby, but that wouldn't explain why Scott wasn't trying to kill him yet. Unless the ex-criminal wasn't there when Tony and Stephen saw what the camera did and they didnt tell him.

"Remember what I said to you four years ago? Don't do anything I would do and definitely don't do anything I wouldn't do?" Peter opens his mouth but his father holds up a finger and gives him a warning look. "You had a little gray area to work with, and what did you do? THE COMPLETE FUCKING OPPOSITE!"

Even his mother was glaring at him. "You left without a single word. Do you realize how worried we were? You've both been missing for a year. I can't..." Stephen trails off with a frustrated huff and rubs his face.

It was silent for a few moments, but that was short-lived when the diaper bag caught Scott's eye. "What...the fuck...is that?" He seethes through clenched teeth.

That was when the other shoe dropped. Emma woke from her nap and started crying, and Scott snapped. Peter was so sleep deprived that he didn't see the man coming until he was already pinned to the nearby wall with a hand around his throat. Normally he would have pushed Scott away, but this was a long time coming, and he wasn't as strong as he usually was due to his poor diet. So he let the ex-criminal wail on him with his free hand, cursing Peter for 'knocking up' his daughter, and it only came to a stop when the obvious sound of a rib cracking echoed through the room. Peter gasps out in pain and slumps to the floor when Tony finally pulls Scott away, and he notices through blurred vision that Cassie was nowhere to be seen. She was probably in the bedroom soothing their daughter.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I know you can take more than that!" Scott yells from Tony's grasp.

"Daddy! Stop!" Cassie yells from the bedroom door. "He's tired and he's weak!" She stands between Scott and Peter with Emma against her shoulder, only allowing Stephen to pass when Peter coughs up some blood. "He's been working three jobs to make sure me and Emma are taken care of, and he only eats once he knows I've had enough. There's plenty of food leftover but it still isn't enough for his metabolism. So he's barely eaten enough....he's barely getting any sleep..." Cassie's eyes mist over. "I almost called Mom because I was starting to worry."

They knew by Mom, she meant Stephen, and her admission to Peter's health had Scott deflating. His anger left almost soon as it came on, and Tony waited a few moments before releasing him. Stephen had healed the small amount of internal bleeding and cracked rib that Peter had, but had left the forming bruises as his own form of punishment for worrying them. He still hated to see Peter hurt, so it took a lot of willpower on the doctor's part not to heal the boy completely.

He did help Peter back to his feet though as Tony answered the front door when there was a knock, and the engineer pays the pizza guy after sending him back with a larger order. Cassie helps Peter to the couch and he sits down on it with a slight wince as their parents join them. Tony walks over with the two boxes of pizza and sets them down on the coffee table in front of the kids and points at them while looking at Peter.

"Eat."

Peter's reply was instant. "Cassie eats first."

"Peter, it's fine. I heard him order more so I can wait." Cassie reassures him but he still hesitates. "Please."

Peter sighs. "At least take a couple of slices." 

Tony holds out his hands. "Gimme." He smiles when Cassie hands Emma over to him so she can eat. "Hey you."

Scott frowns. "Why does Tony get to hold her first?"

"Because you beat the crap out of my boyfriend." Cassie sasses. "He also asked first, otherwise Mom would have gotten her."

Scott sniffs. "I see how it is. By the way, you get to tell proper Mom."

"I'm not worried." The girl responds dryly.

The storm had settled after that. Scott was still a little angry, but he seemed to accept the fact that Peter stepped up and took care of the girls with less regard to his own health. He also respected the fact that the teen temporarily retired his suit to do so, but he wasn't about to admit it out loud. Stephen was the next to hold Emma and it amused everyone in the room when Mama Bear came out full force. Tony actually had to pry the baby away so Scott could have his turn.

When the second order of pizza came, Peter whole-heartedly dug into the food until he got his fill for the first time in months. It didn't take much longer after that for him to fall asleep with his head in Cassie's lap, and the rest ate quietly as they watched tv. The relief on the girl's face was enough to make the older men keep their mouths shut when it implied how worried she actually was. What she said Peter did for them sounded accurate anyway. Peter always put other people before himself.

"We want you back at the tower." Tony starts and Cassie looks up at him. "Peter can focus on MIT and Spiderman if he wants to put the suit on again. You two don't need to worry about money."

"Thank you...I think he missed Spiderman anyway. No matter how tired he was, he was always restless."

Tony nods. "Sounds about right. Once we're done eating, Mama Bear can portal you home with the baby stuff. I'll have some movers come pack up whatever you want to keep."

"You might as well stay in Peter's room...as long as that's okay with your father." Stephen adds.

Scott sighs heavily. "I'm not about to separate the baby from either of them."

"Then it's settled. We'll have to get Peter back to the tower before he wakes up though. Otherwise we'll have an argument on our hands." The engineer looks at Cassie. "Fair warning, Nat will probably steal the baby for a bit."

Cassie giggles. "She'd have to fight Mom for her."

Stephen blushes and Tony and Scott laugh at the accuracy before the ex-criminal suddenly freezes with wide eyes. "Holy shit...I'm a grandpa."

Tony and Stephen still at his words.

[number9robotic]

9-24-19 Update

 The long-awaited sequel to my 9-22-19 Update!

(plugging my newest pic as an artist tax)

Short version: I’m in physical danger right now.

Long version: My relationship with my parents are breaking down significantly because changes to plans of my living situation, my inability to cope with my depression, anxiety, and other mental/emotional compromises, and the resulting inability to do anything outside my comfort zone like finding a proper job/source of income or going to school. 

As a result, my mom over the course of a few days have been physically threatening me (in public, no less) to send me back to my home in Vancouver while also shaming me for ruining their lives, and I feel legitimately unsafe being in my own home because I don’t know what they’re gonna do to me. All while this happens, my ability to stay motivated as a creator is really being tested.

Fuller version is below this line because I don’t wanna flood the feed and my account with walls of unpleasant text:

Please read my 9-22-19 Update for full context and backstory, there’s a lot of text and I don’t wanna retype it all.

1. THE REAL-LIFE CIRCUMSTANCES GOT WORSE

Yesterday as I was in my weekly therapy appointment, my parents had a renegotiation with each other about that plan I mentioned for my dad to come here and basically repeat the process of my legal anchoring to LA away from my home in Vancouver. Even though I responded with a (resigned) “sure, I’ll do it for you,” suddenly my dad made a conscience decision and told my mom that he changed his mind, because he’s really concerned about my mental well-being and the complete stagnation of my life because of my time here in LA.

This... didn’t go well with my mom, because as usual, this is ultimately about her, I guess. Later that evening, she took me to a Starbucks because she wanted to talk with me about something important, partially as a result of her indeed getting her travel permit document that day. She told me she also talked to her lawyer earlier that day, who said that as it stands, while the case isn’t expected to be finished until April 2020 at the earliest, I’ve technically done all I need to do to be declared a resident of the US, and my job is effectively done. Combined with my dad’s newfound desire to not keep me here any longer, I was told that I could return home.

buuuuuuuuuuuut

She was VERY clearly not happy about this. Despite being the one who decided to talk about this publicly, she had a very loud meltdown as she was explaining this and decided to erupt all of her frustrations not just with herself, but also of me. 

To summarize her very long and confusing tirade, she started to outright force at me “JUST GO BACK TO VANCOUVER! GET A TICKET AND MOVE BACK TOMORROW! JUST GO!!!!”, yet was simultaneously also venting about how much damage this would do to HER and her career; that my lack of presence is a sign of failure on her part as a parent, because she hasn’t been able to get me to go to school or a “real” job or even learn how to drive. Keep this one little bit of info in mind. 

A third argument she was trying to convince me of is that the return to Vancouver for me is only going to fuck ME up, because she doesn’t believe that me returning back to a comfortable place where I’m familiar with and am actually able to get around using public transit (which is so much better than LA, it’s not even a fair comparison) would be better for me and my personal health. She also said that Vancouver’s ability to help me with my mental health is so much worse than that of LA... which... that’s incredibly laughable on so many levels, the least of which is the fact that we spent a several-month assessment process to apply for job assistance because of my autism, only for the result to me to deem me and my autism diagnosis as invalid, but whatever, I guess... 

I responded by telling how incredibly irrational she was acting in her hysterical state (again, in a very public area) with her a bunch about what I felt would help me through this, which I’ll talk about later. Reason not now is because she promptly forgot about it and this morning, SHE DID THE SAME THING AGAIN. This time she invited me to talk at a different Starbucks, asked me about my future, and then had ANOTHER very public meltdown screaming about her and my life problems, but this time it was at a time before McDonald’s stopped serving its breakfast menu.

Once again, she slammed me in my inability/refusal to try anything that would apparently help justify me being here in LA, me ruining her life no matter where I go in the world, and also threatening to send me away to Vancouver. This time I just had to outright leave the conversation because she was getting violent this time; I’m currently typing this in a library and she hasn’t found me yet. This isn’t an entirely new feeling, but currently I am legitimately scared for my future and physical safety.

2. EMOTIONAL HEALTH AND PARENTING

I (re-)explained to her that my problem with all of these personal development hurdles -- my inability to try anything where it feels like the failure of which will be utterly emotionally devastating -- is because I flat-out do not have the ability to deal with it. The entirety of grade school and post-secondary have collectively been the most emotionally devastating times of my life to me, I failed my written exam that’s the first step to get a driver’s licence 5 TIMES, and I have a smattering of emotional, communicative, mental, and physical hinderances preventing me from finding work.

And here’s why that affects me so much: my parents are not emotionally supportive. Mom and dad have outright admitted that due to “Chinese parenting”, “it’s just not my personality”, “I don’t know how to help reassure you” they don’t wish to help me with my emotional problems directly, often times finding it to be the job of others they can then shunt that duty off to, such as therapists, psychologists, counselors, or others. This ignores the fact that my meetings with them are weekly, whereas my greatest exposure to other people come from them, my supposed “loved ones”. I feel like I should be able to go to them for emotional strength. I do not, either because they aren’t capable of or just simply don’t want to be that.

Just to note how little they care about my feelings, I came out to them as nonbinary a few months ago, explained to them what that actually means, that I don’t like my pronouns or birth name at all, and asked for them to respect that. They have yet to comply despite me broadcasting my discomfort constantly, because they simply won’t “get it”.

Yknow... as someone who’s failed a lot in life... I can safely say that the resulting emotional wreckage isn’t fun. 

The thing about being emotionally wrecked is that without any reliable source to go to like family or friends, my only solution is to just wait for my depression to pass... which if anyone knows anything about it, you’d know it’s super-unreliable and can take either a week or a month for me to feel better again, and is incredibly destructive. What I’ve recently realized is how much it utterly fucks with my perception of time and continuity -- depression cuts off my ability to feel anything significant or optimistic, including my ability to perceive a future worth looking up to. As a result, I feel like I’ve wasted A LOT of time in the last few years because nobody has been able to help me with that, at least in my actual time of need.

I’ve made this point to my parents many times throughout the year, and I’ve been desperately trying to communicate to them that the easiest solution to my mental trauma? To actually be there emotionally as loved ones; to help me through that potential sense of failure that I’m so afraid of experiencing again, and for them to comfort me as their child.

This request has pissed off my mom on multiple levels: the first I established already is that she’s constantly claiming she doesn’t know how to/isn’t capable of doing it because “it’s just not me” or “I’m not white mom” or some other crap. The second however is where things got super-confusing: she was also offended that I would ever think that she doesn’t support me on that level, and shared me a bunch of wechats to our extended family supporting my minor hobbies, even though they’ve been sucking really bad (again, please consider my patreon, this is a super-hard time to be motivated as a creator)

So I was like... “You ARE capable of being emotionally reassuring! I want to actually hear it myself!” because she almost never expresses positive emotions; it’s either complete ambivalence or negative frustration. She continued to express negative frustration at this, and at that point I just gave up because at this point it struck me that she just outright doesn’t want to help me with it because she felt like she can shunt the duty to someone else... even though she’s pissed about having to pay them therapy bills to do so. Ugh...

3. EVERYTHING BITES

To summarize: this entire breakdown and my future is emotionally fueled not about my needs like my dad wished, but about my mom’s, who believes that it is far more simple for me to be sent back to Vancouver at her blatant behest, and for me to just “get over” my depression and anxiety to do all the shit she expects me to do which she also believes me to be incapable of doing, than to just... be a caring parent who expresses positive feelings.

And during all of this, she’s also shaming me as a failure who ruins her life no matter what I do.

I am... so exhausted... and it’s super-difficult to stay motivated as a creator these days as a result of it. Fuck, I barely feel safe returning home either in LA or in Vancouver, because I know my mom hates me for it.

I still don’t have friends, and I still have depression and anxiety... and I can’t even ask my mom to be there for me in my time of emotional distress... thanks.

[lemonjoonah]

Under Fire - Pt 6

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Title: Under Fire Word Count: 4K+ Rating: M Genre: Gang AU, Drama Warnings: Violence, Discussion of Depression   Pairings: Hyung Line x Reader (Primarily Namjoon x Reader), very slight OT7 x Reader.   Pairings (in this chapter): Namjoon x Reader, Jin x Reader 

Summary: As a child you lived among the most wealthy and powerful, after the death of your mother you were shipped off to stay with her sister. Even after finishing your education you continue to live apart from the elite, but a visit home creates an unexpected disaster. You are suddenly roped into a darker world, and who better to be your guide than the infamous gang known as BTS.

A/N: You finally get some answers you may have been looking for. There’s a lot of heavy backstory in this chapter so be prepared. 

Chapter 6 - Inherent Duality

POV (Y/N)

“I honestly don’t know where to fucking start.” Your rage is barely contained behind your words.

“Allow me.” V offers. “What the hell was that JK?! Do you not know a screenshot when you see one? (Y/N) knew something was off and she couldn’t even see the footage.”

“I’m sorry V I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Wasn’t expecting it?! If they had any intention of killing us, we would be dead right now.”

You are still ruminating over what to ask first as V exhausts himself from yelling. Would they even give you a truthful answer to your questions? Did your mother really die at the hands of a gang? They keep sending you nervous glances, expecting you to go off on them at any moment. You hold your tongue, making them suffer in apprehension.  

“(Y/N), we were...” Jimin looks as if he’s about to repeat his earlier sentiment.

“Save it, you had your chance. Unless you are going to explain it all to me now, save your apologies. I don’t want them.” You answer coldly.

No one speaks up.

When you reach the apartment, you jump out of the car the second it stops. JK appears in the doorway blocking your path in. “Is RM back yet?” You ask shortly.

JK shakes his head.

“I want to know the second he comes in the door.”  

You take the earpiece out, placing it in JK’s hand as you brush past him. Jimin makes an attempt to follow you but V places a hand on his shoulder. You hurry up to your room locking the door behind you. There’s a laptop on the desk, you assume for your own use. Taking it over to the bed you bury yourself beneath the covers. You log on to your server, from an offsite route. Authorizing your access with the thumbprint on your phone.

Info regarding the police records for Seoul would be difficult to obtain, your own connection didn’t reach that far. JK’s server suddenly becomes visible on your computer. Gaining access should be more difficult, he must be granting you passage. Luckily for you he has back ups of all of the police files in Seoul.

You narrow the date range and area. Finding only a small initial report on the accident, no additional findings, no follow up investigation, nothing. You widen the parameters, but the results are still dry. You are almost ready to give up when a message pops up with an attachment.

JK- RM just sent me this. He’s not back yet, but he said you might find it informative...

You click the icon hands shaking. The full investigation unravels before you under the label of homicide. It was true then, someone had taken her from you, someone had intentionally caused your family’s suffering.

You continue to read the file, your former and current name appears.

...Park (Y/N) has been placed under the care of (L/N) Miran, her mother’s sister.  She will be serving as her guardian, as it is believed that she might be targeted in the future. All official records such as birth, medical, and school records have been redacted and placed under the trust of their legal representation.  Mr. Park as been an asset in paying for the removal of any media articles and pictures of Park (Y/N).  In addition Park will no longer reference his daughter in public and any visits between the two will take place in a location outside of Korea...

No wonder no one knew about you, even the police files had been redacted to protect your identity.  You had always thought that your father kept his distance because he missed your mother, that being around you was too painful. You had not expected that he was just trying to hide you. But why? Why would they threaten your father with the lives of his family? It is clear that the police had never found the responsible party.

Instead they must have felt it was best to leave you in Busan with your Aunt. She was somewhat estranged from your mother’s family, not even go to your parents wedding. Leaving her to be the perfect guardian for your special case, a secluded blood relative. She had died of cancer two years ago. You remember her funeral well, just you and a few of her work colleges. You were furious at your father for not attending, but now you understood why. Even after Aunt Miran’s death you father never brought you home, electing to take you on trips outside of the country.

You were and still are surrounded by people who had lied to protect you. You couldn’t handle it anymore. Secrets weren’t a form of safety, but a prison. When would people understand that?

You spend several hours looking through files for similar cases, aiming to find any clue as to who was responsible. You groan in despair from your fruitless search and the agony of your shoulder.

Information about your mother is your priority, but what Suho had said about Jin still lingers at the back of your mind. You are continuing your search through the server when you spot a list of files for each member. You click on Jin’s but all that comes up is a window demanding a password.  Another messenger window opens.

JK- I can’t give you access to that. I’m sorry.

(Y/N)- Why not?

JK- That’s Jin’s private file. Information is a two way street, talk to him and he’ll talk to you... Speaking of which let me on your server, you’ve looked through mine for hours.

An access authorization request comes up on your phone, you deny it.

(Y/N)- I need to clean it up first, get rid of a few personal things.

JK- PLEASE! I’ll be careful.

(Y/N)- Be patient or someone might tell Jin that you have a stash of pirated porn on the server.

JK- ...Take all the time you need...

You hear whispers outside of you door. In this world you are so fragile everyone thinks it best to  handle you with pair of gloves and speak in hushed tones. To be fair they are somewhat right, you didn’t know how to deal with the constant threats. You had almost put V in the same position your father was in two days before. He died because you were there, Namjoon’s words cut deeply then, but now they are even more painful.

Before learning of your existence they thought that a chunk of the fortune would make its way to Namjoon, maybe that would be for the best.  You finally emerge from the covers of the bed and open the door surprising both V and Jimin who are responsible for the whispering.

“Is he back yet?”

Jimin nods his head, “In his room on the other side of the living room.”.

V just points in that direction remaining silent. You can’t help but notice bruises coming to the surface of his skin. Wounds that he had received trying to keep you from harm.

Knocking on his door you are greeted with an, “Enter”.

Surprise showed in his eyes when he saw that it was you coming into the room.  “(Y/N)? Hope called me and told me what happened. Are you okay?”

“I was blindsided by EXO and your asking me if I’m okay?! I shouldn’t have to learn the truth from them Namjoon! You just showed them that you don’t trust me, that you have no faith in me. How do you think that makes your team look?”

“I told you last night I wanted to wait for that document. Would you have believed me if you hadn’t read it yourself? Your father went to such an extent the truth was far from rational.”

That left you with another question, “Then how did EXO know about this?”

“It was their founder who organized her accident.”

You wait for more, but he doesn’t continue. “After what happened today I feel like it would be best if I left, not to Busan, somewhere outside of Korea. Everyone here is walking on eggshells around me and V almost...” You start a new thought not wanting to continue. “I will be opening an account in your name and transferring some of my assets, you’ll never have to worry about money.”

“It was never about the money, we took you in because you were important to Park, important to our mission. And yes everyone is nervous around you because they feel like they have failed you. We weren’t able to protect your father and now we are struggling to keep our promise.”

“You are going to have to give me more than that if you want me to stay.  I still don’t understand why did he formed BTS.”

You are interrupted by a short knock on the door, Jin enters.

“That is my fault, I asked them not to say anything. I wasn’t ready to tell you but it appears I can’t put it off any longer.” Jin sighs in defeat. “But first let me check your shoulder. V said that you might have hit it?”

“It’s fine really, I just glanced the wall.” You are eager for answers, and don’t want him to delay any longer.

He looks at you skeptically, unbuttoning the first few buttons on your blouse to get a good look. “You’re bleeding through your bandage why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t notice,” You lie.

“Aishh you haven’t changed , you need to look after yourself more. There is a small tear nothing too bad. He brought bandages with him and changes it quickly before uttering another word. He sits down beside you but looks to the floor as he speaks.

“How much do you remember of your fathers work in politics?”

“Not much, just that he stepped down from his assembly seat when my mother passed.”

Jin takes a deep breath and starts off slowly.

“20 years ago my father, CEO Kim, was heavily invested in the stock market. He was reckless, throwing money at any stock that he believed to have “inside intel” on. He told his shareholders that he was investing in other companies that would benefit them. Instead of using the company funds to expand and update he continued to invest in the market. Profits crashed shareholders pulled out. The company that had been in my family for generations was about to go bankrupt.”

A pained expression on his face grows as the words continue to fall from his mouth.

“He reached out to the government asking for a bail out. Stating that a large number of the people still relied on the company for their medical equipment, and if they went under it would be devastating. The Assembly was actually considering it. My father thought that he would have Park’s vote easily after all they had been friends for a long time, but he was strongly against the idea. He rightfully believed that my father had been irresponsible and should sell the company.”

“My father refused explaining that he would rather watch his company go bankrupt then see it in the hands of another. He was shocked at your father’s “betrayal”. A few days before the vote your mother was in the a car accident that took her life.”

You could tell where this story was going but you didn’t want to believe it. To think a family friend, and Jin’s father, could sink so low.  Jin glances up at you sadly for a moment, before returning to his explanation.

“Park was in mourning, but he was certain that the motion would fail even without his vote so he abstained. The motion passed, but just barely.  With Park out, Kim only had to threaten a few delegates to sway the vote in his favour. There were a few restrictions placed on him. He was no longer able to access company profits and his share percentage would be reduced to 40, but those were limitations he could live with as he was still the majority shareholder.”

“The police had found new information that lead to the understanding that your mother’s accident was a planned attack, but with no evidence to show the responsible party, it was kept quiet. You were sent off within hours after the discovery. Park knew who the culprit was, but couldn’t prove it beyond reasonable doubt.”

“My father turned to other sources of income to help supplement his foolhardy investments. He founded the gang EXO which he supplies with products from his company. Often using them to intimidate lawmakers when necessary.”

You could feel your anger rising inside of you. He had killed your mother, and played a role in the death of your father. Yet Kim still continues to live his life in luxury.

“Five years ago while in school I discovered my father’s darker dealings. I had walked in on a meeting with him and several notoriously known gang members. I pretended not to be phased, only so I could further research his dealings with them. Each threat, every accident I came across was disturbing, but finding out what he had had to done to your family was the final straw.  I left my home and came to Park on my knees begging for forgiveness for my ignorance. Your father took me in and supported me ever since that day.”

“Jin...”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Even though I no longer consider him to be my father I still feel partially responsible for his acts. Your life was torn apart because of him...”

“You are not accountable for your father‘s crimes Jin.”  

Namjoon begins to explain further, “Park brought us together purely for revenge. Realizing that Kim was to powerful to take down alone. With all the money we could ever need we had no reason to push drugs like the the other gangs. Making our police record virtually non existent. That doesn’t make us any more innocent than the rest of them though. We focus on taking from others that are connected to Kim, but even that becomes problematic. With us working behind the scenes, Park worked to discredit him in public eye.”

There was nothing you want more than to see that man fall. Needing to take everything from him the way he had taken it from you. There is no way you are leaving now. “I’m in.”

“What?” RM asks in disbelief, he quickly rephrases. ”I’m not saying no, I just want to make sure you are certain of your decision.”

“You asked me before if I wanted to join, I can be a patron, banker I don’t care. There is nothing left for me to lose, but my chance at revenge. You are not taking this man down without me.”

“You would be willing to become more than a patron, to work alongside us?”

“Yes,” Your confirmation comes out unwavering.

Jin looks at you perplexed. You can tell he no longer recognizes the girl before him, how could he when you could barely comprehend your own actions.

JK comes bursting in the door looking completely bewildered stuttering random words... Fire... Busan... He grabs your arm to follow him to the living room. The news coverage is on, but also his own camera footage was pulled up on the laptop.  You watch the bookstore you called home go up in flames. “This can’t be an accident. How long ago did it start?”

“A few minutes ago, it caught quickly.”

You run to your room yelling, “JK I need memory space find me the largest empty hard drive you have.”  I grabbed the laptop and head back to the living room. JK calls out from the room next to Namjoon’s. Jin had a questioning look on his face, “What’s wro...”

“No time to explain.” You shout running past him.

JK caught on quickly having everything set up once I reached his room. You plug in accessing your server and begin the transfer. “Come on, come on.” A window popped up with an estimated completion time of 2 hours and 45 minutes.

“Let’s hope it’s fast enough,” JK notes.

You sit down placing your head in your hands. The other members join you, curious looks on their faces.

“With them destroying my place of work it is only a matter time before they appear at my home too. I’m downloading my server in case they damage my system.”

Namjoon places a finger on his lips in thought. “JK pull up the cameras I posted in the area.”

JK looks at him hesitantly for a moment before muttering, “You must have a death wish.” He pulls up another camera shot.

“Why the hell is my living room on the screen?!” You shout.

“This is the first time that we have ever access this camera, it was to be used only for emergencies.” Namjoon shot back. “If you want to be part of this group, you are going to have to deal with a lack of privacy from time to time.”

You sigh defeated leaning back in your chair and glancing at the camera shots. there was another in the hallway in front of my door, a third pointing to the building in flames, and a forth that said no signal, you guess that one must have been set up inside the store. You are beyond grief  you’re absolutely livid.

“Are these cameras recording?” You ask JK.

“Yeah, I’ll set up a notification if there is any movement in your apartment.”

You continue to stare a the flames engulfing the building, “There is one thing I am still confused about. If I was so well hidden how did the press get my picture and find out about me so quickly? How did they,” You point to the screen, “Find my workplace so quickly.”

V answers for you, “I’m looking into my connections, seeing if anyone is trying to exchange information about you on the dark web, but it could be as simple as one of your friends talking to the media.”

You are more concerned about the second option than the first. Your friends knew you as a private person. They knew that you wouldn’t want your life on display. Did one of them sell you out?

“2 hours and 40 minutes left on the transfer, I don’t think I can watch this anymore.”  You slowly leave you chair heading back to the living room. The other members follow, you hear Jimin whisper asking if you are really joining the team, a faint yes comes from Jin. Jimin seems pleased by the idea, you turn back to see his his squinty eyed smile.

Namjoon whispers something to Jin, who then excuses himself, as everyone sit on the couches surrounding a coffee table.

Suga is leaning back, looking as if he might fall asleep, V, JK and Jimin are arguing over something on his laptop. Hope sits beside you as he scrolls through his phone. Namjoon is across from you holding a small smile on his face. Jin returns with 8 bottles of beer. “You should be fine now (Y/N), the painkillers will be out of your system.” He informs you, passing a bottle over.

“Thanks Jin.”

He hands out the rest of the bottles.

“I know that this isn’t the ideal time for initiation...” Namjoon starts what seems like a speech but is quickly interrupted .

“Here he goes...” Suga mutters.

“He’s going to be all methodical and sappy,” groans Hope.

Jimin stifles his laughter. Namjoon glares at them.

“Just keep it short RM.” V asks.

Namjoon turns to you, you give him a pleading look in agreement with the others. “Fuck it then, Welcome home Fire.”

A chorus of welcome homes echoed around the room we all raised out bottles and toast the occasion.

The talk soon turned to logistics. “What role will she be taking?” Asks Jimin.

Namjoon looks to you in assessment, “You already have a background with computers, so it might be best if you stick with JK for now. At least until you heal.”

“Maybe you can teach him a thing or two about screenshots, or even art.” V cracks.

The beer is consumed quickly, the guys out pacing you easily. There’s a outcry for more, forcing Jin to find the soju. “Drink it slow, otherwise you’ll feel terrible tomorrow.” Jin expresses his concern as he pours you a drink.

“I don’t think that I could feel much worse tomorrow regardless.” The funeral coming to the forefront of your mind.

“You don’t have do this you know.” Jin suddenly blurts out.

You knew this was coming, “If you are referring to my membership, I don’t think your in any place to talk me out of it. I don’t want to be that naive child anymore Jin, you should know that better than anyone.”

“You’re too young to know what you want.”

“Yes because being two years older makes you so much more mature.”

“I may be only two years older but I have spent the last five in a world you can’t comprehend. I’m just trying to look out for you. We can watch over you even if you don’t become a member.”

JK approaches with an empty cup eyeing the bottle in Jin’s hand.

“Did you say the same thing to JK when he joined or is this for my benefit?” You remark pointing out the double standard in age.

“Okay fine, I’ll lay off... for now.” He claps a hand on JK’s shoulder changing his tone.  “Try not to pick on JK too much while your working with him. You don’t want to scare him off with that temper of yours.” Jin laughs

“Yes because he’s so innocent,” You mutter sarcastically  to low for Jin to hear.

“You’ll be working under me Fire, you shouldn’t make fun of your superior like that.” JK whispers to you as Jin pours more drinks.

“Is that a threat little boy, because I was told not to keep any secrets from my fellow members.” You eye him darkly.

“You wouldn’t dare...”

But you do...“Jin I was wondering, JK had this weird folder hidden on his server labeled F.A.P. material any idea what it might be?”

JK turns bright red as Jin fumes, “What do you have on your computer?”

You snicker quickly edging out of the conversation making you way over to Namjoon. As you stop beside him all you could hear across the room was, “You should see the amount RM has on his computer!”

You burst out laughing while he asks, “What are they talking about?”

“Oh, I accidentally came across JK’s porn folder while on his server.” It took a minute for it to sink in and figure out what JK was accusing him of.

“Oh...OH!... It’s not...” He stutters.

“I could care less, it’s just funny to watch the reaction of those who do.”

After a while the yelling becomes slurred apologies as the liquor takes hold.

Jimin and V have passed out on one of the couches together.

Hope somehow talks the rest of us to into playing a drinking game. For Namjoon and yourself it took a little convincing, but you aren’t sure how he was able to persuade Suga.  

You had gone a couple rounds now, the truths becoming more interesting as you all continue.

Namjoon pulls a new prompt from the bowl. “Embarrassing secrets... Apparently I have a shocking amount of adult content on my computer.” Namjoon confesses. You all lift your glasses and take a drink.

It was you turn next. You try to think of something that none of them would have in common with you, really not wanting to have to take another drink. “Until recently I had a stuffed animal I slept with.” You glance at them hopefully. Matching grins appeared on both Suga’s and Hopes face as they look to Namjoon.

He looks back at them shot in hand, “It makes a good cushion...” He grumbles taking a shot with you.

Suga is up next. “Skip.”

You try to persuade him, “Wait, but this is such and easy one.”

“Skip,” He repeats taking his two penalty shots.

Hope clears his throat, and continues the game. Not commenting on Suga’s deflect.  “I used to take dance lessons.”

No one speaks up.

“Fuck Hope, you wanted to play knowing you would win didn’t you.” Suga complains as everyone takes the shot instead of Hope.

“Ugh, how does anyone win this game,” You groan, rubbing your hand over your face trying to stay awake.

Namjoon’s face drops as he reads the next slip. “Greatest fear...” He takes a deep breath as he thinks it over. “I’m terrified of failure. One misstep an it becomes a life or death every time.”

You all raise our glasses again.

“I think you’re just afraid of drinking alone.” Hope grumbles.

You hate this question, there was one fear that surpasses all others for you. “I am afraid of being alone...” everyone raises their glasses but you aren’t finished yet. “Alone with my own thoughts. On a bad day I’ll go out to the store or a cafe because at least there... in public I know I won’t act upon them.” Namjoon and Hope lower theirs, but Suga keeps his glass high. He continues to look you in the eye as he takes his shot with you. You felt Namjoon reach for your hand under the table, he squeezes it and keeps hold.

Suga doesn’t take long to come up with his own, “My tally.” Seeing your confusion he continues to explain. “When I became a sniper I was worried I would lose count of the lives I took. I keep a tally and add to it every time I am given an assignment. I have not counted it in years. I have gone from a fear of forgetting to a fear of knowing.”

The rest of you take your shots in silence. You don’t know what to say his truth, it leaves you troubled but also terrified.

You can tell that Hope is not eager to share. “Come on Hope this’ll be the last one.” You whisper encouragingly.

“I’m scared of falling asleep. Almost every night I dream that someone I care about dies in my arms, that it is my fault, that I failed them.” His mouth hangs open as if waiting for his words to continue but only silence follows.

You raise your glass, offering words in solidarity. “You’re not alone. If it’s not my mother, it’s my father, if it’s not him it’s my friends. So far I am two for three,” You chuckle darkly as you roll the glass between your fingers before taking the shot with him. You can tell why they like to play this game. It may have taken on a somber tone near the end , but you feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Kneeling at the table and drinking excessively had finally taken its toll. You honestly don’t think you can get up so you just lay back on the rug. The carpet is incredibly soft, you felt as if you are melting into it.

“No one move me until it’s absolutely necessary.”

J-Hope crawls over and climbs on the couch behind you, “Same.”

“You guys are all light weights.” Suga lays down on the floor his head resting on a blanket supported by your ankles. Namjoon lays along his side of the table with his head pointed towards you.

“Thank you agreeing to take me on.”

“I hope you’ll still be thankful after your training,” He laughs.

“Too late to back out now?” you jokingly ask.

“Yeah I think so, you can’t go back on an initiation like that.” He gestures to everyone passed out, snores can be heard around the room.

You suppress a snicker.

“Goodnight Namjoon.” You whisper.

“Goodnight (Y/N),” He places a hand on your head as you fall asleep.

[chaniters]

Coming out

The ending of this edulcorated Chargestep nightmare fluff I’m writing, The plan is revealed and the farm confronted with it’s greatest enemy so far. 

Also, Ricardo Ortega and Sidestep go for their dinner date, following up from the last fic (Supersize me).

The waiter leaves after taking your orders The place is actually fancy. It's one of Los Diablos finest restaurants.

You can't help feeling foreign here. You were always faded in the background whenever you had to be in places like this.

And you can hear their thoughts. People wondering who's the guy in Charge's table. There’s curiosity and even a hint of jealousy.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat... And he takes your hand with his. You tremble as you hear the collective mental gasp of everyone looking at you two.

"Would you stop thinking about them and look at me?" He asks. You force yourself to look up. There's his stupid smile... the big eyes... And then he makes it even worse. He presses your fingers in his hand and speaks.

"You know, you're looking so fucking hot right now... I should have done this a long time ago. Just show you how I see you."

"You... really like this?" You say motioning to your own self. You had no trouble believing he liked you in costume, after all, you were always proud of your skills. But here, in plain clothing is another story.

"Yes, dumbass, I like you. How many times do I have to tell you?. We kissed like ... so many times. What else do I have to do to convince you?"

He takes a sip of wine before going on.

"You know, sometimes it's EXHAUSTING to endure how dense you can be."

"Alright, alright... no need to rub it in my face, I get it" you say looking away.

"No, I don't think you do! I've been throwing curve-balls at you for about a decade and not ONCE did you pick them up except for the AWKWARD moments."

"Well..."

"I started to think I just wasn't your type"

"No! THat's not it... I mean..."

"AM I, OR AM I NOT YOUR TYPE CYRUS?" he asks raising his tone. "BECAUSE IM STILL WONDERING RIGHT NOW."

"OF COURSE YOU ARE MY TYPE!" You burst out. And then you lower your volume since everyone can hear you "From when we started training together... I had to make an effort not to look at you all the time and..."

"Uhu... I see. Go on" he cues you to continue

And then you can't stop. You tell him stuff you hadn't even remembered until now. About how you hated it when he was with someone else. About how confused you were after he kissed you at the party. About the fight with Psycopathor and the dreams, you had after he saved you. About calendars that you had hidden in your apartment when Anathema bought them for you as a joke. You go into even some very embarrassing stuff, like when he carried you out so many times. You confess about using Steel's hostility as a tool to keep him away and protect your secret.

"Oh. I see... Tell me more" he says with an absent look.

And then you go on about how you love his smile... his eyes.. his arms and...

And then you choke when you realize the intensity of his gaze. Like he's going to devour you alive.

He's been enjoying this from the start. Watching you agonize and talk on and on about how you thirst for him.

The two of you don't finish your meals, pay early and head home. Home. You would have said "His place" not too long ago.  You stumble with the keys and they fall down from your hands. He takes them from the floor and opens the lock.

The moment you enter he pushes you onto the wall and kisses you like a wild animal. And you have basically lost all self-control by this moment.

He starts taking (ripping) off your clothing.

"How many ... layers??" he asks frustrated... until he gets to the last nanomesh. And then he notices the panicked expression.

"I've thought this through," he says, pulling you towards the bedroom. He just pushes you on the bed, and you collapse there, moving on your back towards the center. 

He leaves the room briefly... returning with something in his hand, hoping in, landing by your left side.

He opens his hand. A blindfold.

Ricardo puts it on over his forehead.

"Will this do?" he asks You nod, surprised. He lowers the blindfold over his eyes.

"Now take that thing off"

And you both do...

He climbs on on top of you. Kissing you... feeling you.

It's not triggering your alarms. You know him. And don't feel threatened.

"Hey... stop... stop," you say.

He freezes immediately. "W.. what did I do?" he asks

"Nothing... just... " you extend a hand and remove his blindfold.

"But then you'll..."

"I think I can handle it?... Just... go slow please"

He gives you the widest smile.

--------Several days later-----------

Brushing your mind against his, you find an entrance and take hold, firmly. The senator is asleep, you can't work like this. You take his body and make him take a few steps. You need to wake him to access his thoughts... not to control a zombie.

You find them. And you do what you've done dozens of times already. Set his fixation ready, burning white hot in intensity, for the time when the signal is given.

And then you free him, making him think he just sleep-walked a bit. Float like a ghost, back to your own body.

The return is brutal. You hadn't possessed that many people in succession since... ever. This is new territory.

And possessing people is not your only activity these days...

Ricardo finally confessed to you that he couldn't keep up a few nights ago. That he's not that young anymore. You saw the failure in his eyes. Mission accomplished you said, trying not to tease him too hard.

You've lost several pounds from this.

Your body is a wreck, but you are at the top of the world. Having Ortega for yourself and destroying your enemies have quickly become your two favorite activities and now you do them together, daily.

The routine goes on for about two months until all the pieces are in place.

And then Charge casually talks with the first domino piece and gives him his verbal trigger command.

The retired scientist goes to the media, whistleblowing on the farm's human rights violations. He dies on an accident shortly after.

He is followed by a senator, a decorated general, and two low-tier bureaucrats. One of them is imprisoned on drug charges. The two other die and the fourth has a mental breakdown.

Ten other witnesses go public to the media immediately after, revealing droves of information. As one of them dies, the FBI reveals it had begun an investigation on the killings.

Dozens more witnesses come trough, and the scandal reaches national levels. You've mind-controlled about a hundred and fifty in total, changing their minds into scandal timebombs. And you commanded them to seek others, and get more evidence as well.

Soon enough the killing stop, and the Special Directive, unmasked, becomes a pariah among government agencies.  Senate commissions and federal investigations fall upon them like birds of prey. It's director removed and in custody.

-------The stage is set.----------

"Good morning Los Diablos! We are joined on studio here by Charge, here for an interview about...

You sit awkwardly behind the cameras. Waiting for your cue... at any moment he will ... There.

"I have some important personnel announcements to make" Ortega interrupts her

"Oh? Personal you say?"

"Yes, Mia. I'm very proud and happy to introduce everyone to... My boyfriend, Cyrus Basri. Yes, I'm coming out!" he says motioning for you to come forward.

You've been seen together in enough public spots to have people question your relationship. A ton of photos of you together will surely surgeon the media within minutes.

You force your legs to get you in front of the camera because if this goes wrong, you might actually not live to tell the tale. This is the most critical part of the plan. All up to you.

She asks you questions. You answer them. You are his boyfriend. You love him. No, you are not yet engaged. When you tell them you've known him for more than 10 years, they wonder who you are.

They go back to Ricardo.

"So we're coming out," he says holding your hand, giving you the confidence you still lack. "But that's not all. We have one more revelation to make" he ends looking at you.

You take the longest breath of your existence. And speak to the country.

"My Name is Cyrus Basri. I used to defend the city as the Hero Sidestep. I stopped the Nanosurge. I fought against Heartbreak... And..." you pause. Not because you are terrified, but for drama. They made you an actor after all. "And seven years ago, I was kidnaped by the Prime Directive. I was abused, beaten, drugged and experimented upon. My humanity was denied, and I was subjected to the most heinous experiment ever devised. I am a victim and a survivor of the Special Directive" you say removing your shirt before the cameras for all to see.

Everyone goes silent as the final bomb explodes.

You cry on live tv. Ricardo holds you. The audience gasps. You make sure to make all of their reactions are positive and supportive. You're surprised it would have been that way even without your power.

Mia is shocked but instantly begins asking questions. More reporters show up. You answer each and every one. You break up several times, showing yourself even more vulnerable than you actually are.

You tell the Truth. You reveal the connection between the Directive And Heartbreak.

And then you also lie. You accuse the Directive of all sorts of despicable things that your witnesses have fabricated evidence about. Ortega backs you up. You couldn't ask for a finer wingman.

As the show finally ends, federal investigators come to talk to you. Then, finally, after you've gone with half of their questions, a high ranking official from the White House shows up to talk to you.

You demand Ortega be present and he sits by your side.

After a few words, he offers you a deal. You look at Ortega, and he finally nods.

You shake hands.

By the end of the day, you are truly Cyrus Basri, with a birth certificate, and social security number, a driver's license, and a bank account full of stolen money that now legally belongs to you.

Your past is erased. You're no longer a regene, but a civilian victim who was manipulated, enslaved and experimented upon by a rogue organization.

And most other regenes will get similar deals. They'll never admit they created life. Fine by you.

Your problems fixed within hours.

And now you are Ricardo's official gay boyfriend. That is new...

The rangers reactions were shocked as you said your goodbyes.

Chen was tearing himself apart. "YOU WERE GAY?" he repeats over and over talking to you and Ortega. Herald can't stop telling you how proud he is about you coming out like that. And Argent is maybe not your closest friend but she's beaming for Ortega and you being a thing.

You flee the country together a few days later to avoid the rest of the media storm.    

Private cruise through the Caribbean. You go on false names. It's part of your deal. To spend a whole year outside the media's reach.

And they know you can do that.

Because you beat the odds.

You are the cuckoo who became a real boy.

______________________________________

My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero    

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[chimchimsauce]

Marvel (4)

Synopsis: Park Jimin was much too familiar with how one night stands work. Not because he engaged in them often. As a matter of fact, he had only hit the sack with a stranger once. But that feeling of hurt - of disappointment - plagued him. Because a lot can happen in a single night. From falling in love with a foreign girl in a matter of hours inside of a shitty 7/11 to the small girl staring up at him with galaxies in her doe eyes.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Jimin

There’s an awkward clearing of a throat once Gaia’s sobs have subdued to hiccups.

“So what do we do now?” Taehyung asks, voice trailing off into silence.

Gaia pulls away from me quickly, as if she’s woken up from a dream. 

I feel cold the second she’s gone.

She wipes her eyes quickly and pulls on her sweatshirt, adjusting it and pulling it farther down.

“What,” she clears her throat, “what do you mean? It’s obvious. All of you leave. I’ve already told you, she isn't yours. This doesn't have anything to do with you,”

Yoongi hyung sighs heavily.

“Look. I don't know why you're insisting she’s not his kid, but this is getting old real quick. Just let him take the paternity test. It’ll be over faster that way,”

Gaia shakes her head.

“Look, lady,” Hoseok says, “we’re busy people. This has already fucked up our schedules enough. If we don't get the test, Jiminie he’ll dwell on it for the rest of his life. It's best if we just get it over with,”

“But why does it matter? No matter what that test says, nothing will change. My baby and I will go back home and the seven of you will go back into the spotlight,”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask her, flabbergasted, “this changes everything. We have a kid, Gaia,”

“That’s not what you told me four years ago,” She says, so quietly I almost don't hear her.

“What?”

“You, or whoever works for you. Don't act like you're clueless, Park Jimin,”

I look at the other members, even the bodyguards. None of them seem to know what’s going on.

“What? Baby, I don't know what you're talking about,”

She glares at me and I feel my heart stop.

“How about something along the lines of ‘Please, Miss, stop contacting this company. Mr. Park has repeatedly stated that he has never had contact with someone named Gaia Cline, nor did he leave the dorms on the day of your supposed encounter. If you continue to harass this company or the people it represents, we will have to take legal action. We have documented all accounts of our interactions and we assure you it’s enough to warrant a restraining order,’” she says, reciting each word perfectly as if she’d done it a million times.

I just blink, so taken aback by the words I’d never spoken.

“Ga -”

“You had your chance,” she says, glaring at me almost angrily enough to mask the sorrow in her eyes, “Your intentions were loud and clear. You didn't want anything to do with me or our child,”

“So she is mine,” I say, sagging with relief.

“No. She’s not. You gave that up before her heart even started beating,”

“I didn't -”

“Look. It’s almost midnight. I’m sorry about crying on you earlier, my emotions run rampant when it’s late, but you need to leave. All of you. And don't come back,”

Her tone is final.

“Would you stop interrupting me?!” I say, getting fed up.

Her eyebrows shoot up.

“I know you did not just yell at me,”

Sighing, I run my hands through my hair again.

“Gaia, just, hear me out, please. I - there's been a mistake. Before three days ago, I didn't know we had a child. I swear that I was not the one who told management that. They didn't even let me know someone was making claims that they were pregnant with my child - certainly not that it was you,”

I bite my bottom lip, hoping my sincerity comes through.

She looks skeptical.

“Why would they do that?”

Thankfully, Namjoon steps in. Until now, he had been leaning against a wall, a look of deep pondering on his face.

“It’s most likely just standard procedure. As artists, we’re supposed to let our managers know when were sexually active, and with who. Because no one knew about your one night stand,” Gaia tenses up when he says this, “they regarded it as a crazy fan trying to get child support or something,”

Gaia wraps her arms around herself and I notice the way the material of her sweatshirt inches up her thighs. She looks like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“What are we going to do now?” Seokjin hyung asks.

“We should talk to our managers and Bang PDnim. This changes everything,” our leader replies.

“We still don't know if it’s his kid,” Jungkook pipes in, only to shut up as soon as Gaia glares in his direction.

“It’s late, though,” Gaia says, still glaring at the youngest, “besides, what’ll that do? I already told you, Mina and I are going home,”

“She’s my daughter. I want to be in her life,” I say, moving towards her.

“Maybe you can facetime her occasionally,”

I open my mouth, about to argue but Namjoon pipes in again.

“Let’s just go visit Bang PD. We’ve got to take this slowly. He'll know what to do,”

“I don't want -” Gaia starts but she cuts herself off when her eyes land on mine.

I don't know what expression I'm making. All I know is that I need her to come with me, need to keep her here along with the child I'm absolutely certain is mine.

“Okay,” she says, “Okay. We'll go. Just let me get dressed and get Mina,”

I nod and she walks back into the room where my baby sleeps.

“This - what're we going to do?” Taehyung asks.

“I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how it plays out,”

Gaia emerges soon after wearing some sweats and a thin T-shirt, cradling Mina as best she can.

“I got her,” I say, reaching to take my daughter in my arms for the first time.

Gaia hesitantly lets me scoop the preschooler into my arms.

“Don't drop her,” she says, concerned Mother voice in full effect.

“Wouldn't dream of it,”

Mina is warm in my arms. Her breathing is even and soft as she sleeps in my arms. She’s so precious I can barely stop myself from kissing her forehead.

The drive to the entertainment company takes about twenty minutes. Gaia had shown some concern about the lack of proper seating for Mina, but the driver assured her that he would drive carefully. No one speaks the entire time and the little girl stays fast asleep cradled into my chest.

Most of the employees are gone at this hour as the company is technically closed. The only ones here are the people down in the technology hallways in the basement and the people that live and breathe their jobs, like PDnim.

I’ll never forget the look on his face when the nine of us walk into his spacious office. He had been about to fall asleep at his desk until he saw the two new additions to his usual visitor.

“Jimin. What’s going on? Who is this? And the child?”

“This is Gaia,” I say, and his eyes light up in recognition, “and this is Mina, her daughter,”

Gaia looks incredibly uncomfortable and out of place. I want to tell her to relax, but that’ll just draw more attention to her.

“Ah,” PDnim says, “you’re the woman who’s been causing all this chaos lately,”

His tone is jovial and light, causing Gaia to smile slightly.

That same smile she showed me at the 7/11 all those years ago. The same smile that haunts me.

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry about that,” she says sheepishly.

“What’s happened, happened. Let’s just focus on moving forward, shall we?” He says, sitting up straighter.

“Jimin, why don't you lay that little cutie over there on my couch. Your arms must be getting tired,”

They are, but I don't want to put her down. I want to hold her as long as possible.

But I do anyway.

“How old are you?” PDnim asks.

“Twenty-one,”

“And how old is your daughter?”

“Three and a half,”

“So you were eighteen when you had her?”

“Seventeen. I turned eighteen two weeks later,”

“And the child is his? That’s what you're claiming?”

“I'm not claiming anything. I did not seek him out. They’re the ones who showed up at my hotel room unexpectedly,”

She didn't really answer the question. All of us notice.

“I see,” PDnim says.

I’m assuming he'll get back to that later.

“Why don't you have a seat, Miss Cline,” He says, gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk.

Gaia sits stiffly in the chair. Only her and PDnim are sitting. The rest of us stand alert, apprehensive.

“We'll get back to the child’s parentage in a bit. So, from the files the managers have pulled up, it seems that the first three months of your pregnancy, you made frequent contact with this company. Is that true?”

She nods.

“What did you do after your requests and statements were turned down? Or better yet, could you tell us how exactly your encounter with Jimin went down?”

“Um,” she starts, looking embarrassed, “it’s a long story,”

“We have time,” Yoongi says from beside me.

She ignores him but starts speaking anyway.

“I was here four years ago for an exchange program. I didn't say too long, as it was soon discovered that my host parents were . . . less than fit. A representative from the company came and served as my temporary guardian. We moved into a hotel until I could go back to America. I got restless one night, snuck out - we had separate hotel rooms by the way -   and went to a nearby 7/11. Jimin came in, drunk off his ass. I never knew why,”

“So you slept with him while he was drunk? That makes you a rapist,” Jungkook says.

I can't help myself from smacking him.

“No. It was about six hours from the I met him to the time I slept with him. He was sober. Stop being so much of an asshole,” Gaia says, looking one step away from smacking Kookie herself.

“Jungkook, just let her finish, please. Continue, Miss Cline,”

Gaia glares at Kookie once more.

“Anyway, Jimin left sometime while I slept and that was that. I had no contact with him after that day. I went back to America a week later. After I found out I was pregnant my parents and I had a falling out. It was long coming, but this pushed it over the edge. So I moved in with my grandparents - I hadn't met them until then. I finished school online and gave birth to Mina. Then I lived with my grandparents until last year when they passed,”

“And why’d you decide to come visit Seoul?”

She hesitates.

“My . . . my grandmother thought it’d be a good idea to take Mina here. Let her experience some of . . . her culture,”

PDnim nods.

“So she’s Jimin’s daughter,”

Gaia sigh. A long, dramatic sigh.

“Yes. Yes. Yes, she is,”

“Then we should get a paternity test,” PDnim says, “then we'll see what needs to be done. Work out legal issues,”

“Nothing needs to be done. He can have a paternity test if he really wants since I’ve been asked about one a million and twelve times, but that’s it. Mina and I are going home and all of you will just go about your normal lives,”

“Are you saying that you want me to pretend that I don't have a daughter? Especially when -”

I cut myself off. I almost added, “especially when it’s with you”.

“Yes. It’s worked out well so far, hasn't it?”

I stunned.

“She’s my kid too,”

Gaia shakes her head.

“You weren't there. I know it wasn't your fault, but all that means is I shouldn't've hated you all these years. You still weren't there. You weren't there when I woke up in the middle of the night to vomit, or when she moved for the first time, or when I heard her heartbeat at the doctors. You weren't there when she was born. You didn't cut the cord. You didn't watch her sleep to make sure she was still breathing. You weren't there when her teeth came in or when she crawled. You missed her first words, her first steps. You don't know her favorite food or why she thinks the word pony is hilarious. You’ve never wiped her tear away or washed her hair,”

Tears start to gather in her eyes again, glazing them over.

I’ve never felt guiltier in my life. My chest hurts and I can barely breathe.

“Gaia -”

“She’s my baby, Jimin. Mine. You may have given her to me, but she’s my baby. And I won't let you take her away from me,”

She stands up all of a sudden, sending the chair she was sitting on flying back.

“I'm going to find a bathroom,” She says, leaving before I can even breathe and slamming the door behind her.

Chapter Five

[multishipperlove]

More from this lovely sastiel AU (shhh, I know I’m the only one who cares about this) bc I wrote this months ago, when I also posted the first thing, but meh... I’ll never complete anything written in my LIFE so might as well post my ramblings here.  Complete backstories for this AU under the cut: 

Sam and Cas meet at a support meeting for single dads or single parents in general. Claire is four, Jack just turned three a few days ago.

Sam and Jack – Sam met Jack's mother, Kelly, while they were both still at the beginning of their college careers. Jess had just died, leaving Sam grieving and not quite as emotionally stable as he would have liked. Due to this, and some other problems (drug use? Sam and Kelly both getting their fixes from Ruby, Sam sobers up after the whole pregnancy thing, realizing he's slowly loosing control. It takes time and a shit ton of effort, regular AA meetings, but he's probably never been as proud of himself as he's after “getting over” his addiction. He's aware that Kelly might not have made it), their relationship never really became serious, always being an on-off sort of thing. The pregnancy was definitely not planned. They talked about it, a lot, considering what possibilities they had and what they wanted to do. In the end, they made the decision to get an abortion. They agreed to split the costs and that Sam would drive her, as well give her all the support he could, emotional and otherwise. But the morning he arrived to take her to the clinic, she was gone. The only thing left was a letter, telling him she'd changed her mind and not to come looking for her. Nevertheless, Sam was worried sick and wanted to find her, if for nothing else than to offer child support or something. He took the letter to the police, but was told they couldn't do anything since she'd gone away willingly. During the next couple of days, weeks and months he kept trying to contact her, but kept running into dead ends. Eventually, he decided to stop trying.

About two and a half years later, when he was almost done with law school, she suddenly returned. One Saturday evening he opened the door to see her with a crying toddler on her hip, looking completely exhausted and Sam quickly realizes that she's probably also still using, or using again. She all but drops the baby off with him, telling him it's all too much and if he keeps screaming, she might hurt him. Before he can even ask for the little guy's name, she's gone.

The next few days are a blur and an eternity at the same time. He finds an envelope in the box she dropped off, containing some important papers and Jack's birth certificate. Jack is also the name stitched into the baby blanket the toddler won't let go off, and seeing the shaky stitching, Sam's pretty sure that Kelly did that herself. The next morning he goes shopping, and after that he drags Jack to every person who thinks might be able to help him. There's so much he needs to worry about, custody, whether the boy's going to stay with him or not, what the legal situation is, if the child is well, if he can even afford a damn kid because he still has six months of law school left and god knows it's not getting easier after that. It's Tuesday when he realizes he hasn't even called his brother yet, or any of his friends, and after dialling his brother's number with shaking fingers he has his first breakdown. But Jack has just fallen asleep in the new crib in his bedroom, so he tries to keep it quiet. Luckily, Dean already knows about the whole story with Kelly and seeing how freaked his little brother is, he manages to stay calm. He tells their “uncle” Bobby, the man who took them in after John threw them out, and asks for a few days off to help Sam get settled. Or find an adoption agency, whatever he needs. Bobby feels like he wants to yell at Sam for not calling sooner and tells Dean to get going.

Later, after being called to come back in by a doctor, Sam's told that Jack shows some symptoms that could come from drug consume during the pregnancy. However, without Kelly there to tell them what she took, they can't be sure and will just have to see how Jack develops. Cue Sam's second breakdown. After that, Sam notices that Jack is a bit slow at times, needing more time to understand things than other kids, and doesn't do well in social situations. He's a clingy kid, and at first very shy. Later he gets over that a bit but still remains socially awkward and too naïve for his own good at times. “I was almost sober for nine months, it was hell!”  “'Almost'?!”

After about six months of living with the kid, Sam wouldn't give him up for anything. He's fully accepted his responsibility of being a parent and loves Jack with all his heart. Jack often asks for his mother, but with time it becomes less. Sam has a feeling that it's not the first time she's dropped him off somewhere without coming back for a while. He picks up his studies again, after having taken a leave for a few months, his professors/boss thankfully being understanding, and things seem to get back to normal. Bobby and Dean are already attached to Jack as well.

Then, in the middle of the day this time, Kelly is suddenly back. And she demands that Sam lets Jack go with her. Sam refuses, naturally, and tries to talk to her at first. About how much better Jack is doing in a stable home, how he'll need special care with some things that Sam will be able to provide once he's found a job, and how much he loves the kid. But Kelly starts to get hysterical, and eventually he's forced to throw her out. She threatens him, telling him she'll take it to court and that Jack is legally hers. As soon as he hears that Sam panics, suddenly realizing that he never did, in fact, look into the legal situation. Which is beyond stupid since he's a lawyer. So he rings up an old friend who went into family law and who knows about his situation, asking him for advice. At least until he can make an appointment with someone else, because right now he's desperate. When the first letter from Kelly's lawyer arrives, Sam's prepared.

The custody battle takes years, and Kelly refuses to give up. It's still going by the time Sam finds himself at the first support meeting, and he's still afraid that he'll have to give Jack up despite knowing that it would be ridiculous and that no judge would give Kelly sole custody after what she's done. He also tries not to take Jack to court appointments with him, knowing it's not fair on the little boy. He's offered Kelly early on that she can come and visit them though. So far, she hasn't.

One day his baby sitter calls in sick, or with an emergency of their own, and Sam isn't able to get a replacement in time for the court date. Not knowing how to help himself, but remembering that one of the other parents in the support group (a remarkable hot parent, but he tries not to think about that because what the fuck Sam, that guy lost his wife not too long ago) gave him their number to set up a playdate, he eventually calls Cas. Cas is more than happy to help out. Since Sam and him are both new in town, new in the support group, and their kids are almost the same age, he'd been hoping to hear from the man. If he can help out, all the better.

Sam doesn't know that, of course, and feels incredibly guilty for dropping Jack off at the other man's house. Once he gets back from the appointment, obviously exhausted and mentally drained, Cas even invites him to stay for dinner (since he just got done anyway, and oh, what a coincidence, he made too much). Sam keeps thanking him during the dinner and promises to make it up to Cas, maybe with a coffee or two when he's got the time. Neither of them is aware of the accidental flirting, like the exhausted idiots they are.

Cas and Claire – Castiel Jimmy Novak married what he thought to be the love of his live, Amelia Everett, when he was 18, because they were both from conservative families. And living together, out of wedlock, is a sin. They even bought a house, getting them several hundred thousand dollar of debt. And for a while, they were happy. Cas got a job as an accountant (he's good with numbers) and Amelia agreed to stay home and take care of the household. She was never really happy with that though, and things quickly started to go south when she wanted to take a job as well. Cas, as the head of the household, didn't want to feel like he couldn't take care of his family, and this was only one of the issues which kept coming up in their fights. But being the good Christians that they are, they wanted to make things work out and were willing to work on their marriage as well, even if it wasn't perfect. Their efforts were renewed once Amelia realized she was pregnant, and they were happy once more. Head over heels, actually. But Cas' blind faith as well as his blind obedience when it came to his own father or his boss still worried his wife, and she knew it wouldn't last.

And just like she had expected, about a year after Claire was born, everything took a turn for the worse again. Cas started to get more aggressive, yelling at her or even the kid when something didn't go his way, demanding obedience from her and dragging them around as if they were his property. She knew it wasn't right, and her friends kept telling her that it was abusive, and that her husband had some serious problems. Nonetheless, she stood by him. Until about another year later, when he started yelling at Claire, yelling at a two year old, at the table because she'd dared to reach for the food before they'd said praise. Trying to stay calm she'd gotten up, gathered her daughter and told Cas that she was leaving. He'd tried to stop her, of course, but he had never gotten physical. Which she was thankful for, otherwise she wasn't sure if she'd made it out that night. She knew her husband was going through a crisis, but that was no excuse for the way he'd been acting. She was able to stay at a friends house at first and told Cas that, if he ever wanted to see her and their daughter again, he'd need to change.

That was the first time Cas realized just how much he'd fucked up. He had known before, kind of, always feeling guilty after treating her like shit. He'd thought of his own mother, and how he'd sworn that he wouldn't become his father. Apparently, he'd failed in that regard. A few days later he called his family, to tell them what happened, only to learn that Amelia had now been shunned by her parents for being a disgrace of a wife and that both her parents and his parents were on his side. After a heated discussion with his father, that he didn't want their support and that he deserved what she'd done, that he was glad that she'd gotten Claire out of the house as well, he really decided to make a difference. First, he moved out of the house so Amelia and Claire could move back in. He got a small apartment and send every penny he could spare to his wife and child. And he started therapy, knowing full well (after already having gone through a bunch of psychology books as a teenager) that he wouldn't be able to break his own cycle of abusive behaviour without help. It took a lot of time, and several set backs, but eventually Amelia started to trust him again. At least she knew he was trying. Six months after Claire's third birthday, they agreed that he could move back in with them. The day before he did, Amelia was killed in a car accident.

Once again, Cas' entire world was shattered and this time he was the only one left to pick up the pieces. His family had turned away from him after he'd gone off at his father, and he'd never managed to find friends where he lived. Claire had always been a handful, and he had no idea how to raise a child on his own. For the first couple of months he stayed in the house with her, only going to work and to therapy, which helped him over the worst. Then he got a job offer in a different city, and the pay he was being offered was just too good to pass it up. So they packed their things, he promised Dr. Churley to find a new therapist, and off they went. Finding a therapist wasn't easy, but at least he found some support groups which he was sure would get him over the first couple of months. One that dealt with anger issues (though he mostly had that under control by now), one for depression, one for survivors of child abuse and... and one for single parents. And he thought why the hell not, he could need all the help he could get at the moment. At least one of these groups had to be good, and maybe even one good group would be enough.

When he got to know a certain Sam Winchester at his first group meeting, he was convinced that it had been the right decision. (Maybe later, Cas introduces him to the group for child abuse survivors as well because he realizes that Sam's got issues too)

Also, they'll both freak out a bit about being attracted to each other. Mutual Pining, naturally, with both of them thinking the other is straight.

Cas has issues because of his faith, Sam has issues because his bisexuality was one of the reasons he and his brother had to leave home. When John caught him kissing another guy in his room when they were supposed to be doing their homework, he'd freaked out. It had been one of the worst beatings Sam had ever gotten from his father, and that was saying something. Dean had found him at their secret hiding spot, still bleeding and trying hard not to cry his eyes out. For a moment, Sam had been afraid of his brother's reaction as well, but Dean had only hugged him and promised him he'd be save now. Then he'd loaded him into the Impala and driven them to Bobby, who'd already been waiting with open arms. Beyond a few overheard phone calls which mostly consisted of yelling, that was pretty much the last thing Sam had ever heard from his father.

[takebackthetreasure92]

Making myself clear to my ex-stalkers

This is an email I sent my former staff worker from InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in February 2018. Apparently, InterVarsity remains under the impression that I won't speak out about the fact that they gang-stalked me and encouraged my abuser to harass me--even strangle me. And spread slander about me that they knew was false, just because my would-be murderer was a model student leader and it was my reputation or his. Are they really foolish enough to think I will back down? #InterVarsity #metoo

"Hi Jordan,

This is just to set you straight on a few things and make sure you understand what I hope for and don't hope for with you in future. The reason for using the pseudonymous email address is just a precaution against a certain ex at the moment because my legal name change is not information he needs right now, but I think you know who this is ;). (It's Julian, who has ditched their birth name for good.)

So I know that you, at the very least, had the decency to recognize the low and utterly puerile nature of your betrayal of me. You even almost got yourself to believe your own lies sometimes. I say almost because you had your somewhat squeamish moments, like when you used Gregor's last abusive accusation of non-forgiveness as a way to try to shut me up about every way our former cult had fucked up. (Honey, you realize your willful blindness to InterVarsity's more dangerous qualities and failure to watch Gregor's paranoia and rage, both of which escalated almost no matter what I did (keeping my mouth shut not being something I owed him or that he deserved), could have resulted in me getting literally strangled to death at Rockbridge, right? If you honestly don't--well, that ought to at least explain quite a lot about my continued hypervigilance around IV that led to some perfectly understandable PTSD paranoia. Google around and inform yourself on what that looks like. For your love of God, please recognize the signs in the students that come your way in future at Needle's Eye or anywhere else.)

Jordan, I feel like if you had paid closer attention to the things I was trying to tell you every time I brought it up or a PTSD flashback brought it to mind, which I unabashedly recall was often because...your cult was (and is) dangerous, you might have picked up on the fact that I was hoping to wake you up to what was going on in the ministry. And you used both my persistence and my PTSD to stab me in the back in what was the most manipulative way possible (no matter what prettier half-truth you told the self-righteous and naive Halen about it). Your smile at me when you knew Josh's confusion at that ridiculous gossip situation (your poisonous cult was the problem there, dear, not me) gave you a way to fuck me over, and to let your own childish ass off the hook for having an openly pro-gay transgender member, recalled a seven-year-old boy who had just told a perfect fib to the teacher on someone else and thought he was going to keep the candy he stole from that other person after all. You were a child, to be blunt, Jordan, just an immature, accountability-shirking little boy who threw his more Christ-like morals completely out the window--and all in the name of covering up every disgusting arm-twist (all failed arm-twists in my case, hee hee hee) and mind game and coercive (and often abusive) move InterVarsity had ever pulled to keep its attendees in line. Speaking of which, your expression when you thought I was about to blurt out the words "I was gay" at one event might have led someone else to think I was about to forcibly break someone else's arm, at the very least. Jordan, becoming disappointed when people who say something controversial on Facebook and then have the temerity to show up at your event--that is a fifteen-year-old thing to do. Admittedly it's better than seven, but *really?*

You know, what I give myself a pat on the back for is not giving in to your or Gregor's immature insistence that I keep my mouth shut. What you did there was wrong, Jordan, not least because you knew perfectly well Gregor was a very, *very* dangerous person when his narcissism was threatened. The only thing I caved on with him was the fact that during our casual relationship he monopolized my time romantically, literally stalked me, and acted very petulant and possessive when other men's names came up--and in the later stages of that contemporaneously cheated on me with my roommate and later went out of his way to paint me as a complete ninny for getting offended by that, as if nonconsensually holding someone to romantic double standards does not count as cheating, which of course anyone without pathological narcissism and over the age of 18 or so knows it does. Just because I gave him my silence on just that one at the time for Brooke (who truly had no clue because she had taken his fibs hook, line and sinker, to the point where he would have had no problem still messing with her mind by smearing his way out of further accountability, just like you did with me later in the game) did not mean that I was going to even begin to overlook my conviction that InterVarsity classmates needed to be told what the ministry was capable of, under the wrong circumstances and with the promise of seizing more and more control over the lives of its members. That I never ceded that control to you all--for which again, I feel extremely blessed and grateful, but to God goes that glory--is of course the real reason you gave me the boot and then tried so hard to mindfuck me into thinking I had no one but my own sorry, selfish, deep-in-sin self to blame.

LOL! Grow up, Jordan. That is the kind of silly lie a fourteen-year-old boy tells his partner (especially if his partner is female-identified and he therefore feels entitled to say it to "his girl") when he's trying to get a get-out-of-jail-free card for screwing her over by making her believe it's because of something she's done. Spiritually, you are the one who needs to get your shit together. You and InterVarsity fucked our friendship over, and you delivered the coup de gras for an incredibly selfish, inappropriately domineering, and silly reason. Emma may have been able to behave like a manipulative, completely brainwashed fool on the matter most of the time (which of course, to a degree, she was), but your own acting and/or (more likely) self-deception skills left just a bit more to be desired. I mean, I get that the staff routinely throw both themselves and their dogma at people to earn their allegiance (in many ways it was like dealing with very persistent pimps, especially when you were trying to shut me up, just to be brutally honest there), but still. And for the record, I have called Gregor out on everything (partly to cleanse my own mind of any toxic remnants of his brainwashing and mainly to secure my safety and my partner's, now that Gregor lives just over in Nashville) and threatened him with a restraining order based on both his abuse and threats and his (actual) stalking behavior if he *ever* resumes any of that again--and pointed out to him that pointing those projections of his back at him where they belong would be a cakewalk in any "court of law," should it come to that. Which of course praise God it almost certainly won't, now that I've made it clear I don't trust him to behave in the event of reconciliation, not in this life. For the last seven years all I've wanted for him was for him to be free of all the poison in his soul--that is a wish extremely near and dear to my own heart and soul--which is why your disgusting use of the ammo he gave you in telling you of his self-exculpatory-nine-year-old accusation of non-forgiveness (no, child, the reason it so visibly hit home was not actually being guilty of that; I've given you the real reason) was so, so, SO low. And I did not give a fuck about what Mary and the other brainwashed, narrow, and foolish girls thought, just to be radically honest about them.

Again, for your own sake, for the sakes of your students in Needle's Eye, and literally for God's sake, you have got to get your spiritual shit together. For years I thought you were one of the ones who also remembered to hold onto principle and, more importantly, a sense of principle *that originates within the self,* not the cult. I was very, very wrong about that. As advice, I'll let you know that I often felt like one of the few people in the cult who hung on to their adulthood in that sense, mainly *because* I would not relinquish control over my life, let alone my mind. You almost got me with the implied lie about everything being just "benevolent misunderstandings," but in my heart and in the hearts of others who would have been vilified and dismissed right and left, had they voiced those opinions to the overenmeshed majority, all those childish fibs never quite held water. Your crimson-faced mortification when I cunningly ratted your bullshit out to Josh--that was a very adult high five on your part, so I sincerely high-five you in return for all that--said it all.

I need scarcely say that I make no apologies at all for exposing all of your evil as a ministry to the university's first-years. They were the ones who needed to be warned in light of all your intrusive, sneaky, manipulative, and just plain disrespectful rubbish in infiltrating the move-in volunteer staff and pulling out all the shots in your usual WAY-too-manipulative ploys to lure new people over. There is a world of difference between wanting a person to be Saved--God has a myriad of tools suited to that purpose, as you well know, for which good old-fashioned prayer will suffice if it's meant to be--and wanting to be the saving force and guide. And there certainly is a difference, a very consequential AND spiritually essential difference, in wanting it so intensely that you will stoop to ANYTHING to pull people into your ministry, not RUF or Cornerstone, and to make sure they join, stay, and follow YOU. The real kicker here is that their definition of "follow" is for their members ENTIRELY too invasive, inappropriately domineering, manipulative, unhealthy (the DEFINITION of unhealthy, dear, so it's small wonder your staff used that buzzword fairly frequently with folks, in the pot calling any criticizing kettle black), and just plain psychologically abusive in a much-too-frequent pattern.

So I beg of you. BEG of you. If you have not already, get your shit together. I intend to just let you be in future, and I would appreciate it if you would extend me the same courtesy, starting with not responding to this email. Even though you're out of IV now (for your sake I sincerely thank God for that), I don't need to tell you outright that you had your chance with my friendship; you blew it when you irrevocably broke my trust. Forgiveness always came easy for me, but almost no matter what comes up down the road I will never fully trust you again in this life. The same goes for Gregor and Emma. And there is nothing you can say to me that you can get inside my head ever again. I'm just being honest.

Please, just work on healing any remaining crippling and lies in your mind and soul.

In Christ,

Julian"

[insidethemagickingdomrpg]

Congratulations KATT! You’ve been accepted as JOSS ROSE who’s the newest cast member at Disney World. Please complete everything on the CHECKLIST and send in your account within 24 hours. We look forward to having you on board!

★ OUT OF CHARACTER

name/alias: Katt

preferred pronouns: they/them

age: 21

time zone: EST

activity level (1-10): 6-7/10 ;  I’m currently in college and in the end of April and beginning of May, due to finals, my activity might drop

anything you want to add: I don’t know if you have a trigger list, but can I request flashing gifs and mentions of mental illness (specifically eating disorders, self harm, and suicide) be tagged accordingly? Flashing gifs tend to make the dash hard to scroll as I have migraine style headaches and they’re made worse by anything with a strobe-effect/quick flashing

★ IN CHARACTER

desired character: Joss Alex Rose

faceclaim: Melissa Benoist

characters pronouns: they/them & he/him

age/birth order: 24 / Oldest

birthday: September 2nd

hometown: Plant City, Florida

sexual orientation: fluid

ships: Joss/chemistry

anti ships: Joss/forced

apartment choice: apartmen 2; studio

job choice: costume design

three positive traits: creative, driven, independent

three negative traits: fickle, withdrawn, jaded

quote: “Everyone is born to die. We might as well make the most of it.”

★ TWEETS

@jossisarose: if I had a dollar for every time someone misgendered me I wouldn’t have to work

@jossisarose: I think I need to invest in a new sewing machine, mine might have just caught fire… #designerproblems #bymightimeandid

@jossisarose: I understand I have feminine features, doesn’t discredit my gender or my pronouns, give me a fucking break

★ BIOGRPAHY

TW: instance of misgendering and reference to Joss’s dead name early on

Joss Rose wasn’t always who they are now. Once upon a different time, Joss was Jocelyn and “she” was troubled. Or so people liked to think. Born the oldest of a set of twins, to a single mother, Joss never really fit into gender norms, or societal norms, for that matter. Whether it was going without a bra until long after most girls started wearing one, a disinterest in anything outside of their art, or an increasingly morbid sense of humor, Joss was an outcast from day one. Small town life was often the bane of Joss’s existence.

As a child, Joss enjoyed Little Mermaid, but more importantly, Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea. Joss related to Melody on a level that they didn’t quite relate to Ariel. It sparked a love of all things mermaid, and all things Disney, in them and their art portrayed this. Their mother, Millie, taught them to sew and crochet, two activities that seemed to be the only “feminine” thing about their interests. They would alternate between drawing and painting to crochet and sewing, often designing their own clothes.

They weren’t necessarily nerdy, but they had their loves. Mostly it was things like Harry Potter, Doctor Who, or other such media, but they also had a love of sports, predominantly hockey. They were a huge Tampa Bay Lightning fan and would often go to games when they had the chance. They were an excellent runner and ran track all throughout middle and high school.

However, in school they often struggled with anything involving other people, but especially changing for PE and track. The idea of getting changed in front of other people unnerved them. It was when they felt most vulnerable, most exposed. It was also when they felt the least like themself. Seeing a female body under typically masculine clothing really hurt, but living in a small town, that was only known for a festival based on strawberries that often invited country and Christian musicians, being anything but straight and cisgender was asking for trouble. More trouble than Joss needed.

In high school, as their sense of self wavered further they withdrew into themself, their passion for costume design became even more apparent. They started cosplaying, attending conventions all over the state of Florida, as a way to be themself, without being themself. They tended to cosplay male characters, taking pride in their ability to pass a male, but refusing to think anything of it, in terms of how they felt. It was this that led them to find a college with a crafts department, where they could major in costume design.

With an early acceptance letter to Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, PA, Joss took off. Moving from small town life, to big city, took Joss by surprise. They were in a place where people who weren’t straight and cisgender were more widely accepted, which made trying to find themself much easier. As a freshman, Joss began to experiment, with a lot of things. Between sexuality and gender identity, they found out a lot more about themself than they were ever expecting. This included the realization that they were trans.

For Joss, the idea of being anything but a female made perfect sense. They tried a lot of things over the next few years, in an attempt to figure out just who they were. They knew they didn’t identify fully as male, and definitely had no intentions to transition, but for the longest time couldn’t figure out just how they felt. Outside of gender being a completely social construct, they needed a label. It came in the form of the terms “genderqueer” and “non-binary” as well as the idea that there was an area between female and male. To Joss, being both agender and male made more sense and they quickly began to explore it as a full identity.

By the time Joss graduated, they had legally changed their name, going with a gender neutral name, as a way to alleviate the pressure from being misgendered, which quickly became a sore spot. Given their more feminine features, being called by male pronouns was a difficult thing to get across, especially given their decision to not transition. When they discovered the singular they as a pronoun, Joss jumped at the chance to use it. While it’s still hard to get people to use it, and they often encourage people to use male pronouns if unable to use it, the singular they felt right.

Returning home to Florida after college was a bit of a hassle. Small town life didn’t suit them, so they moved to Orlando. They had interned with Disney the summer of their junior year and quickly went about applying to be a costume designer for them. Between their active cosplay collection, and the work they had done as an intern, they managed to land the position. Working behind the scenes, making costumes, doing alterations, it was Joss’s dream job, particularly because it meant not having to worry, too often, about being misgendered by other people.

★ WRITING SAMPLE

RFP