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charming-mage · 4 years

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Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 2

I didn’t expect that much Exposed by the Media prompts. I thought the well was dry. I was wrong. Should’ve known not to underestimate the internet and reality TV shows.

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 1

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Lies in the Media is a Different Beast: Adrien grew up in the media spotlight. He knows it’s usually not a good idea to confront the rumors in the tabloids. It gives the rumors some credibility. When he sees Lila confront a rumor that bothers her a bit too much, he doesn’t stop her. Confronting a lie in the media needs a different method than someone lying in your personal life. Just because he’s doing the high road doesn’t mean he’s going to stop her from committing a crucial mistake.

Civilian Friends Are Okay Now: It’s well known Ladybug won’t make friends in her hero persona. She’ll be friendly and kind, but with a polite distance. People accepted it after a while. This changes after Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog. People assume Ladybug changed her mind about it since there’s no retraction article. Civilians become more pushy and want to have more personal relations. From regular people to higher ranking citizens. (ex. No more formality, more personal rapport, friendship, or even the start of an epic romance.) A few uncomfortable situations and angry citizens forces Ladybug to address this.

Total Drama Island: The Miraculous users find out one of the prizes in a new season of the Total Drama Island reality TV show is an important Miraculous artifact. It could be anything from a Miraculous to a secret Guardian book. The heroes and villains are forced to participate as none of them found the item in time. Marinette and Adrien go in their civilian selves while Hawkmoth sends in Lila. Lila tries hard to hide her true self, but the contestants do find out.

Forgot to Log Out: Lila forgets to log out of her social media accounts in the school library. She gets distracted by something and clicks on minimize instead of the close tab on her browser. Since Lila didn’t log out of her session and the next person who gets the computer didn’t bother to do so either, her tabs are still there. The person is a noisy gossip and scrolls through them. They are intrigued by what they find. They decide to take screenshots and uploads them to the school website forum page. For the drama of course. (This is based on my experience when I was in high school and the library in my city. It was common to just close the browser and not bother to log out. The next person only logged out if they needed something from their own account. It’s not worth it to log in and out just for some internet searching.)

Dear Abby: Marinette, needing advice from a third party about Lila’s lying, sends an email to the Dear Abby column. (Or France’s equivalent.) She figures since Abby has no connection to either her or Lila, the writer can give her unbiased advice. She does her best to make the details as vague as possible so everyone in her life (including Lila) can have privacy. Her message is replied to and included in an article weeks later. Her request and Abby’s reply becomes popular amongst readers. Marinette did make a mistake, though. One of the examples she gives about “Lemon” is unique enough that someone eventually finds an interview on the Ladybug suspiciously similar to the lie. Marinette stopped watching new Lila interviews because it enraged her too much. She doesn’t want to deal with Lila after school hours as well. So she’s not aware Lila also mentioned it in an interview. Dear Abby readers dig through the interviews and discover nothing but lies. The Dear Abby column and the Ladybug drama gets big enough to be covered by the media.

Real Life Works Differently Than Fiction : A few classmates end up in a situation like Lila tells in her stories. Believing in Lila, they do what Lila claimed she did thinking it would work out the same. It doesn’t turn out so well. They get scolded by involved parties not to do that again. A reporter on the scene interviews them. It comes out why they did it. Lila’s lies are exposed as the fiction they are.

Tsurugi Influence: Kagami’s status as Adrien’s girlfriend makes Lila switch targets. Marinette is in the back burner until Lila deals with her new love rival. Her plans to deal with Kagami backfires and brings media attention. Lila was too used to love rivals not doing any major action towards her. The wrath of the Tsurugi family is brought upon her. She realizes afterwards how influential and powerful the family is.

Adrien’s Phone is Stolen Again: And this time the phone thief is caught. Lila steals Adrien’s phone to post social media posts an hour later gushing about Lila/or talking about in her a positive light. By the time Adrien finds out, he can’t take back what “he” said without controversy. Which Mr. Agreste would not like. That’s Lila’s plan anyway. The problem is that Lila makes these posts while Adrien is on a surprise live interview. (Which she is unaware of.) The interviewer asks Adrien about the new posts while Adrien is clearly not on his phone/laptop. On a hunch, a quick search by Adrien leads to the discovery that his phone was stolen. The model confirms it’s his personal account and not a media team behind it. The content of the posts make Lila the main suspect.

You Can’t Delete Me Now : Lila gets in a controversy. She starts deleting comments and defending herself. Gabriel is busy in a meeting and doesn’t find out in time to stop her. Commenters get so mad at her, one of them gets the bright idea to hold up signs resembling post/comment/ or tweet. Somewhere in their message includes a line saying, “You can’t delete me now.” The idea catches on and it becomes a trend to walk around in public or near photo shoots holding signs with their comments. Everyone includes the now famous phrase in their sign.

Lila’s Wild Ride: Lila manages to steal the monkey miraculous. However, she learns the hard way why the Guardian needs to think carefully when matching someone with a miraculous. (Lila is not good at using the monkey miraculous’ power. At all.) Xuppu easily figures out what happened and makes sure to give Lila a very memorable time. The wilder it is the better. A live news crew captures footage of Ladybug furious “that lying Lila Rossi” stole a miraculous. Chat Noir is worried they’ll see a new Hawkmoth ally soon. There’s more chaos as the criminal underworld, opportunistic people, and die hard Ladybug fans enter the scene. Meanwhile, the French government is not pleased with the Italian government. An Italian diplomat’s daughter stealing a Miraculous from Ladybug herself looks very bad for relations. Looks like a secret operation that got exposed to the more paranoid members.

Hell’s Kitchen: Gordon Ramsey hosts an amateur cooking competition. An older Lila Rossi is one of the competitors. Ramsey doesn’t like her food. (or the drama she starts. And sabotaging the other competitor’s food.) Sadly for him, her cooking is barely better than the worst ones so she is able to scrap on to the next round. The execs love her for the drama. When the season airs, the contestants notice the footage was edited to make Lila look innocent. They get hate from Hell’s Kitchen fans about their meanness and most of them do what they can to defend themselves. People become interested in what Lila is like in real life. The only requirement for the prompt is for Lila to be an adult. Ramsey would not let lose on a minor.

Collaboration Gone Wrong: The Gabriel brand does a collaboration with a brand outside the fashion industry. It could be anything as long as it gets the other brand to be on the same set as Gabriel staff. Gabriel decides to give Lila bigger roles starting with this. Lila is beyond happy. A bump in the road appears when an intern around her age pulls her aside and asks her to stop lying. Lila doesn’t of course and secretly does her best to ruin the credibility of the intern before they get the idea to tell someone else. Unbeknownst to the Gabriel model, the intern is a close relative of the collaboration company’s CEO. The intern just doesn’t advertise that fact. Doesn’t want special treatment. Heads start rolling when the CEO finds out what Gabriel’s muse has done to their beloved family member. Permanently damaging a profitable business relationship is the least of Gabriel’s worries when the media gets wind of the scandal.

#Lila salt #Lila Rossi #Miraculous Ladybug #prompt #Adrien sugar #Lila gets exposed #Lila exposed

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nastyatticman · 4 years

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If Slashers had horny Tumblrs...

What it says on the tin! HC post for if Jason, Bubba, Brahms, & Billy (Lenz) had their own tumblrs for horny content. (18+ only)

If you like these, feel free to send a request for other characters if you want :D

Contains : adult content, discussions of kink & brief mention of sexual harassment

Jason Voorhees

Very barebones bio that gives some basic info - his age, his gender/pronouns, and a warning this blog contains adult content.

Doesn’t get updated often, and it’s usually all at night. Mostly consists of content he reblogs from different creators (artists/sex workers, etc)

Don’t expect a fancy theme or anything - he only uses his phone for horny content since he shares a computer with his sweet old boomer mom.

A good mix - largely pictures people post of themselves or art he likes. Sometimes he’s in a Mood and reblogs a bunch of very specific kinky posts - text posts with affirmations from doms, risqué art, gif sets of people in gear.

He doesn’t have a huge following or anything, just a handful of mutuals and spam bots he doesn’t clear out frequently. But when he posts anything he thinks could be too intense he makes sure to tag it with warnings, just in case.

Sometimes leaves little compliments for people - he’s usually too shy to message people directly but he’ll reblog their posts and say nice things in the tags. Nothing too forward, usually things like “you look so handsome here!”

Bubba Sawyer

Makes sure not to put any identifying info but he usually puts his age/vague age range (“in my 30s”) because people ask for that.

A collection of stuff he likes, mostly pictures or gifs or the odd video or audio post.

A lot of mostly vanilla content - again, what turns him on, what he can jerk it to easily. Stuff he can focus on when he’s really trying to get off. I feel like he’s more likely to reblog a gif set of people just going at it or pictures of a hot person in lingerie or cute undies than anything with too much of a kink/fetish focus. But not always.

I’m not sure if our Bubba can read/write very well so I can’t see him reblogging or writing long text posts, but there will be a few short ones here and there.

He’s a little too nervous to post intimate pics publicly but I can see him on a very very confident day posting pics of just his hands after seeing people talk abt how they like strong hands.

Again, doesn’t write a lot, so he doesn’t add comments to reblogs or anything

He may leave nice things in tags tho! Like Jason he sometimes leaves little compliments for people whose content he reblogs (ur dress is so pretty!). Sometimes he tags things with certain emojis that seem to have some kind of meaning… a mood he’s in… or maybe they remind him of someone he likes?

Brahms Heelshire

VERY detailed very organized pinned post with info about him including a list of his kinks, and what interactions he wants/doesn’t want. Also, places to send him tribute. Not that he needs the money, of course, but he wouldn’t mind if you got him something off his wishlist. (Wink wink nudge nudge.)

I see him as a switch who leans heavily towards submissive with a bratty streak. However people tend to assume he’s more dominant since he reblogs more dom centered text posts (he’s usually imagining he’s the sub in those scenarios).

Has a decent following since he will periodically produce a lot of original content - mostly text posts, or audio, and the occasional picture where his face is obscured and no naughty bits are showing directly. He errs on the side of caution since he doesn’t want to get struck down by the tumblr nipple police, and also because are you kidding me his family has a reputation to uphold, he can’t afford to get caught

Tumblr is his main horny platform of choice because he finds it easier to organize content he likes into an archive, and there’s more privacy. He tried making an nsfw account on other platforms before, but because of linked accounts and email fuckery he got recommended to follow a family friend and nearly shat himself. (He has a good handle on privacy and he knows that person couldn’t find him - he double checked his privacy settings after that - but it still scared him off that website, at least for that purpose.)

Because he has a decent following he also has a few mutuals he’s messaged periodically. He’s varying degrees of close - some only know him from his posts, some know his main tumblr, some may even be following him on other platforms as “long distance friends”

Every once in a while debates about having his own server for his simps followers, but he’s not sure about using his discord where he keeps in touch with friends/family for it or making a new one. You’re welcome to message him if you’re mutuals or you send him some cash first ❤️

Billy Lenz

What do you mean, “horny on main”? What, like you have an alt?

His blog is like, 98% porn but every once in a while he’ll reblog a non porn post to get into an argument.

“You sure have a lot of opinions on Canadian politics for a hentai blog 🤔”

Mostly an archive of stuff he finds hot at the time, without rhyme or reason - reblogs, links to other websites, etc. mostly chaos, but it seems like every once in a while he tries to have some kind of tagging system.

He sometimes posts original content - sometimes rambling text posts about the kind of sex he wants to have, very rarely pictures of himself. that he deletes immediately after in fear of getting flagged.

When it comes to audio posts… the Moaner lives up to his name. Although he’s not skilled with recording - clearly doing it on his phone - His audios aren’t half bad if you can find them. Usually captioned with something about how he made them or what he was thinking about when he made them.

Let’s be real, canon Billy had like no concept of consent. Or just didn’t care, because he wanted to scare and intimidate people. He’s definitely been blocked by people for sending creepy messages/asks or adding unwanted captions to their posts. When he wants to hit on someone in a way that means they may reciprocate, he’s nicer, but people are still (understandably) put off by him.

At his most polite though, he’d be the type to send an ask to someone saying he hopes they come to Toronto so that he can eat their hot pink cunt and make them cum on his thick tongue and fat, juicy cock. (This is regardless of factors like their actual location, whether or not they have a cunt, or travel guidelines due to the pandemic.)

#slasher fandom #jason voorhees #bubba sawyer #brahms heelshire #billy lenz #slasher imagines #lemon #nsft #noises from the attic #first post like this im nervous #who would u follow tho? i can see myself following brahms tbh #nasty attic originals

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ahgastae · 4 years

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worst chefs in seoul (outline) – kim seokjin x gn!reader

➥ word count: 3.9k | reality/cooking show au | crack | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: we’re back at it again with another wip i never finished lol. this one is the outline for what was intended to be a social media au (as evidenced by some of the notes i left for myself), though it’s likely that’s not how it actually would’ve come out. i’d love to hear some of your thoughts/reactions, and i hope you enjoy ♡

day ???

start w y/n and yoongi goofing off on twitter

the whole y/n eating a moldy grape thinking it’s a kiwi thing

and yoongi panicking bc of it

could transition into them talking about the finale episode of their favorite show: worst chefs in seoul

they’re both huge fans, and equally complete disasters when it comes to culinary skill

yoongi likes the show bc he likes the competition aspect and tbh he got addicted after y/n forced him to watch the first season w them

y/n also likes it for that reason, but the main reason they watch it is bc of a certain kim seokjin

anyway, they talk about the finale, and then yoongi says something about the next season’s ‘nominations’ coming up soon

y/n jokingly says they’re going to nominate yoongi bc of that one time he made tacos with dog food

and yoongi fires back w the time they managed to light the microwave on fire making cup o’ noodles

they agree to let each other live

…..for now

sike!

the two actually do end up nominating each other w/o the other knowing

y/n honestly just thought it would be funny if yoongi got picked and yoongi was like “fuck it why not”

little did they know…..

while the nomination guidelines assure that the selection process is completely random, this is a reality show

meaning for anyone w a brain that’s obviously not the case

contestants are actually chosen by the show’s assistant producers and approved by the chefs themselves and then the higher ups

but who are those assistant producers??

none other than park jimin and kim taehyung

neither of them keep their involvement with the show a secret, and one takes it a teensy bit more seriously than the other

anyway, they’re usually told to find a batch of contestants (that they feel) would conjure up the most drama for the show

it is tv, after all, and they have to keep people watching

and that part is crucial

to their credit, they do (somewhat) succeed for the most part

jimin selects yoongi and namjoon from the nomination pool bc he thinks joon’s clumsiness w yoongi’s nonchalant nature will work for max chaos

and taehyung chooses y/n and jungkook bc while their competitive drives are similar, y/n’s subdued nature has a big chance for conflict w jk’s out-there attitude

(how do they know all this? they’re experts at what they do leave me alone)

day ??? 2.0

y/n (and yoongi, secretly) is ecstatic when they get the emails/DM/whatever that they’ve been “chosen for the next hot season of worst chefs in seoul!”

but then yoongi asks if it’s allowed for them to know each other and accept the nomination

like they’re best friends. is that going to present some kinda problem that’ll get them both kicked off??

should only one of them accept it?

(he’s immediately ready to sacrifice his own nomination bc he knows how much y/n cares about this stupid show)

y/n says they’re not going to let him do that bc they were both chosen, meaning they both should get to go

but—

“it’s fine!! we can just pretend we don’t know each other when we’re on set!”

and so they’re off

to some undisclosed location in seoul

day 0

jimin and taehyung are the first to greet everyone, collecting all four contestants together for a tour of the dorms

and y/n starts texting yoongi in a panic bc both of their dumbasses forgot that the contestants are separated into teams as soon as they arrive

yoongi prolly says smth like i’m two feet away from you why are you texting me

(y/n reminds him they can’t make it seem like they know each other)

yoongi acts like it’s not that big of a deal

prolly says there’s a good chance they’ll end up on the same team

and if they don’t they can just hang out in the dorms when the cameras are off and away

which is when jimin loudly announces that this season, each team is getting their own dormitory

and that contestants will be required to stay in their dorm while filming the season, except for approved ‘outings’ for the show

he moves on before anyone can ask what that means

they’ll be allowed to pick whichever dorm they want to stay in for the first night, since they want to get the contestants’ reactions on camera when they reveal the teams

but after they’re revealed tomorrow, it’s your dorm and your dorm only

y/n and yoongi automatically gravitate towards each other

they end up together in the ‘new’ dorm, which yoongi grumpily notes is practically bigger than their whole apartment

y/n wonders if they ended up in seokjin’s dorm, and gets excited at the thought of this being a ‘test’ to see which chef’s team they’ll be on

to which yoongi asks what makes this dorm his?

“idk i just...feel his aura in here”

“.......okay, weirdo. i’m gonna go ‘feel his aura’ in the bathroom and take a—”

“yoongi!!”

y/n can either ask what yoongi thinks of the other contestants or they can both pretty much blow them off entirely for the time being

idk which yet

day 1

next morning, the contestants are woken up bright and early by none other than our favorite assistant producers

the wake up call comes in the form of a new group chat between the six of them

along with a link to ‘download’ the calendar for the shooting schedule

(which is really an app/virus that disables certain functions on their phones)

((such as most social media and texting numbers outside their ‘parameters’))

after that’s all hashed out, jm & t explain that this group chat is for any and all notifications and updates about the show, as well as any questions and/or concerns the contestants might have

“can i just vote to eliminate myself now and go home?” and

“how do i get this fucking thing off my phone” and

“when do we find out what team we’re on??”

the answers to which are

you’ll find out when filming is finished

and right now!

they tell the contestants to get up and get dressed as their first day on set officially starts now

y/n and kook immediately jump into action and leave the gc

joon lags behind a little confused but follows the flow

yoongi, ever the people person, gets aggressive when they don’t answer his questions about their goddamn malware

“is this even legal?? are you even fucking allowed to just disable our devices like this?”

“what if there’s an emergency??”

“looks like you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

yoongi’s phone then crashes and won’t let him unlock it until the first block of filming is finished

jm: “oops ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ”

day 1 recap

we find out through our superfan what happens during the first episode

(maybe do something like this person is some kinda press/‘news’ account dedicated entirely to w.c.i.s. and the two chefs)

((mayhaps they leak the contestant list before it goes public??))

((jimin and tae could have some kinda unspoken rivalry w them lol))

anyway the story is told through them in a series of twitter threads

(plus a few messages from y/n to yoongi freaking out about the teams they get put on)

first event of the day is: the team announcements

yoongi and joon end up on team kim seokjin and y/n is on team jyp w kook

being split up puts a bit of a damper on their plans, and with this stupid cell block they don’t know if they’ll even be allowed to talk to each other

none of them get much time to react, though, as they’re then shuffled off to their respective kitchens

where they finally meet their respective chefs

and, lo and behold, y/n is goddamn terrified

jinyoung is even scarier in person than he is on tv

“don’t laugh at me yoongi!! this is the guy who made a girl sob on live television!”

“and now ur gonna be the next person what’s the problem lmao”

while y/n tries to get past their fear, they’re given their first official task: work together with their new partner to create a meal of their choice

the catch is that they aren’t allowed any help from their chef yet

and since the teams were just announced literally like 10 minutes ago, none of them have had much of a chance to get to know each other

(the network knows this, and does this on purpose since most of the seasons’ first episodes are spent either arguing or being completely lost)

things go about as well (read: badly) as expected

y/n and kook soon discover their very conflicting personalities and spend the majority of the round bickering back and forth about what to make/how to do it

meanwhile yoongi slaps a piece of sliced cheese directly on the stove while joon runs around like a chicken w its head cut off

in the end, team jyp somehow manages to come out victorious

they cobble together some (semi) edible banana milkshakes to present to the judges

(‘together’ meaning y/n wanted to make plain vanilla milkshakes and kook switched it for banana milk when they weren’t looking)

yoongi and joon tried (keyword being tried) to make grilled cheese

but between yoongi’s cheese-to-stove method and joon dropping their two pieces of burnt toast right before the timer rang

they didn’t get many points

as their reward, team jyp has the honor of picking what they’ll be making tomorrow

they’re given the rest of the day to think and talk it over while team ksj is told to reflect on what went wrong in today’s trial

back at the dorms (now in their separate teams), y/n finds that yoongi finally graces them w a response

(and that they were right about which one was ‘seokjin’s’ dorm)

yoongi tells them about ‘that little shit’ locking him out of his phone and that he honestly just wants to get tf out of there contract or not

y/n convinces him to stay and stick it out, if not for them then for the prize money at the end

yoongi then asks what dish they’re going to pick for tomorrow, and asks if they can pick something he at least has an idea how to make

cue y/n saying that they were thinking of suggesting one of seokjin’s signature dishes but not knowing if kook would go along w the idea

“he kept trying to switch out our ingredients for banana milk and i don’t know how to tell him to knock that shit off”

“honestly you know i’m not one to take charge but he wasn’t even listening to me!! what’s to say he’s actually going to listen to the PROFESSIONAL chef here to help us??”

“aNd SPeAkINg oF THaT”

cue y/n whining about how they wanted to be on jin’s team and it’s not fair that they both got stuck w jinyoung AND a bratty kid on their team

yoongi sympathizes since he was looking forward to them being on the same team, but makes y/n agree that if he has to give the competition a chance then they have to give kook one too

“i mean yeah he seems like a bit of a dumbass but isn’t that why we’re all here? bc we have no fuckin clue what to do in the kitchen?”

hmm...fine they’ll give him a chance

but they still think he’s a lil shit and don’t really wanna talk to him at all, let alone reach some kinda compromise on what to make

they don’t get much or a choice, though, as they both receive a mysterious message from...jungkook? in another group chat?

the contestants find that they have all been manually added to another gc

except this one is missing the two assistant producers who love to breathe down their necks

everyone but jk is immediately suspicious

is this some of trick to get them to screw up?

to break some kinda hidden clause in the contract none of them actually read?

wasn’t that thing they downloaded supposed to block incoming messages like this?

“but wait, yoongi, then how were we able to…?”

but as of right now, they don’t get any answers

and they’re all too afraid to ask anyone but each other

“well we’re all here so...we might as well get to know each other right?? :D”

this is where we get our first in-depth look at the four people stuck on this show together, who in their lives nominated them and why

(y/n and yoongi’s lying skills are put to a bit of a test as they each rush to pull stories right out of their asses)

kook talks about bambam and says his nomination said smth about “adding banana milk to everything f*ckin thing he makes”

he doesn’t really get why that was enough to land him a spot on the show but he thought it would be pretty cool to be on tv and just went along with it

namjoon talks about hobi and emphasizes that he’s not that bad of a cook

he just gets nervous and confused when it comes to recipes and cooking which expresses itself in the form of his unabashed clumsiness

joon then asks if they’ll really be prevented from having any outside communication until filming is finished

he, like yoongi, questions the legality of deceitfully installing the block on their phones

y/n says there probably was some kind of hidden clause that allowed them to do that, as they “can’t imagine seokjin would take part in a competition that abuses its contestants”

to which joon replies that they don’t actually know seokjin so they can’t really ‘imagine’ anything about how he will or won’t act

right as yoongi is about to jump in and tell him to back off, jungkook decides that that’s way too much legal talk for him

he forces changes the subject back to the gc as a whole and says that even if they’re prevented from talking to their friends he’s happy they’ll “at least have each other :D”

y/n feels like part of that is directed at them and feels bad for how they thought he was ‘just a dumb kid’ before

namjoon, however, is still hesitant

he’s not sure if this chat could get them in trouble in regards to the show and their contract and what not and says that they all should probably delete it just to be safe

but that is unanimously vetoed by y/n and kook (and yoongi, reluctantly) and they decide that if the block allowed it to pass through then it must be allowed

before joon can argue anymore, they all receive a message from tae in the ‘official’ gc

he briefly explains the lights out policy of the dorms and tells them that they’re probably going to want a good night's sleep for their ‘big day’ tomorrow

yoongi then says smth like “well...guess that’s lights out then” and jk responds excited as ever w “night guys!! see you all in the morning! :)”

and y/n can feel their soul leaving their body for even thinking anything ill about him

day 2

contestants are woken up bright and early by alarms they didn’t set

(“oh great, so they just hijacked every app on our fucking phones then”

jimin tells them all to hurry up, get dressed, and meet the chauffeur outside bc they can’t afford to be late

(“literally! every second you waste is money docked from the network’s wallet! so get your asses in gear, guppies!”)

y/n and kook get outside first, but yoongi and joon are nowhere to be seen

y/n decides to text the q & a gc to get the dirt on seokjin

they kinda start sucking up to jimin and tae to see if they’ll reveal any info, particularly about what the chef is like and if it’s possible for him to talk to the ‘other’ team’s contestants

and while the producers are pleasantly surprised that one of the contestants actually want to use that gc for something other than yelling at them

they unfortunately can’t give much info besides what most people already know

and confirm that one of the chefs talking to the other’s students was probably not allowed, but that it’s also never really happened before so they’re not really sure lmao

(“taehyung!!” “what? was i not supposed to say that?”)

jimin cuts the conversation short there as yoongi and joon arrive and they all get on the shuttle for the set

taehyung does say one last thing tho

“good luck!! hopefully they don’t tear u up too bad!”

but first

our superfan gives us the downlow on the competition and how it works

after being split into teams, the contestants will rotate between ‘training’ w their chef and competing against each other in timed trial rounds

prizes can be won for both events, but the ones for the trial rounds are generally more competition based while the ones for the training rounds are more about luxury/quality of life while filming

each trial round win counts as a point towards the team’s score in the competition

only trial rounds affect this score

once a certain number of points has been reached (5), that team moves into the next phase of the competition

instead of working as a team, they are split up and now have to work against each other to win the favor of their chef

and in the finale, after one last big cookout competition, an individual winner is chosen and crowned a ‘former’ worst chef in seoul

once the contestants arrive on set, the chefs reiterate that today is just a training round

(they all let out a collective sigh of relief)

and it’s a good thing everyone woke up so early bc they’re just in time to learn how to make breakfast!!

“it’s not like we had much of a choice-oof.”

“anyway! team jyp, since you won the pretrial round yesterday, you get to decide what both teams will be learning how to make today. so, y/n, jungkook. think carefully. what do you want for breakfast?”

y/n is about to suggest seokjin’s signature strawberry and cream crepes when jungkook, who is still half asleep, blurts out “omelette”

(also i’ve decided that jackson is the host of the show now and i’m not changing my mind)

and it’s decided. they’re makin’ omelettes

(y/n is only a little bit peeved)

shuffled off to their separate kitchens, y/n is reminded of just how terrified they are of jinyoung

sure, they thought he was scary yesterday when they realized they were on his team, but now he has to actually teach them and they can’t help but think he’s going to make them into an idiot sandwich by the end of the day

as such, they try to keep half-asleep kook in between them and jinyoung at all costs, even if it meant running around the kitchen like a lost puppy

jinyoung, fully aware of how the show portrays him and how fans view him, notices this almost instantaneously

but he unfortunately doesn’t get to pull y/n aside to address it before jungkook starts digging through the fridge for banana milk and almost throws the entire carton of eggs on the floor

professional chef jyp mode: on

and they’re off

it’s a little difficult with y/n dancing around the kitchen anxiously and jungkook’s absolute aversion to being told what to do (as y/n predicted), but jinyoung manages to whip them into shape long enough to (barely) make a ham, cheese, and “green onion? wtf is that?” omelette

team seokjin, however, does not favor as well

yoongi apparently doesn’t know what tf a green onion is either and just throws in whatever green vegetable he can find while jin is struggling to keep namjoon from setting himself on fire

….and it turned out to be celery

that, plus joon somehow managing to burn the omelette to a crisp, costs them the training round

y/n and kook start to celebrate their victory and actually working as a team when jackson informs them that their ‘prize’ is they get to eat what they cooked while the other team gets whatever is left over on the catering table

“i hope you listened to your chef!”

“...jungkook, please tell me you used actual milk in this”

“um…”

back at the dorms, the contestants share their thoughts on their first day of training, as well as their first official day w their chefs

(also include y/n saying something about their banana milk omelettes actually not being half bad)

y/n immediately recalls how much they were terrified of jinyoung, almost cutting their finger off when he glanced over their shoulder when they were slicing the green onions

jk agrees, adding smth about how he didn’t think a scowl could ever be so intimidating

“it reminded me of my mom’s face when she found out i tried to pierce my own ears in the bathroom in middle school!! i was too afraid to push the needle all the way through and walked around with it in my ear all day until one of my teachers finally noticed and sent me to the office!”

...ok jungkook

during all of this, yoongi and joon are both like...wtf

“seokjin was literally nothing but nice to us. even when namjoon almost set his sleeve on fire lmao”

“hyung how did u manage that” “doesn’t matter”

jungkook thinks the difference in the chefs is hilarious, but y/n is only upsetti spaghetti

they go on a bit of a rant about how badly they wanted to be on jin’s team

saying something about how jinyoung is scary and mean and they’re almost positive he can sense their fear or something and probably use it against them while jin’s team would be so much better on the sole fact that they wouldn’t feel like he would turn them into an omelette for getting something wrong

cue jk being all babey asking “you...don’t wanna be on a team with me? :((“

and y/n immediately PANICS and tries to explain that NO, it’s not HIM but yoongi saves their ass by saying that seokjin is just their favorite and that’s all

jungkook feels better, but then namjoon is like “hol up. we all just met. how could you possibly know that?”

insert more y/n fumbling and jk confusion

yoongi (once again) covers w some bullshit story that he was able to just guess that based on what y/n’s said in the gc so far

joon wants to question it further, but jungkook informs them that the lights out call just came in before he can

another yoony/n sigh of relief

in private, y/n freaks out to yoongi for almost blowing their cover to the others

prompting a short conversation over whether they think they can trust them or not

y/n admits that they’re warming up to kook, but is a little suspicious if namjoon will keep their secret yet

convo ends with yoongi saying something like “well, the kid’s right about one thing. at least we know we have each other”

end.

#kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #jin x reader #jin x you #bts jin x reader #jin #kim seokjin #bts jin #jin fic #seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts crack #bts fluff #me releasing my old wips to try and make up for the fact that i haven't actually written or posted anything for months?#it's more likely than you think #my writing #on hiatus 🌙

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chemiste · 4 years

Text

Foresight ~ ch.4

a/n: heyooooo, it’s chapter 4! btw, if y’all have requests send them in!!

masterlist

Once at the tour bus, you were met with various sleepy stares from a couple crew and the band members.

Sarah came up to you and basically melted into your hug, “I’m so tired…” She mumbled. You agreed with her as a crew person came up to take your suitcase and store it under the bus.

You realized there was more than once bus and wondered where you were supposed to go, “Hey Sar, do you know which bus I’m supposed to go on?” She rubbed the sleep out of her eye, “You’re probably on ours cause you’re Harry Styles ‘best friend’ right?” You nodded at her prediction and started to wonder about the friend thing.

Are we just going to pretend? Or does he actually wanna be real friends…

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Jeff tapping on your shoulder. “Good morning sunshine.” “Hey, Jeff.” “There’s an extra bed in the band’s bus you can take that one.” You gave a smile to him, “Thanks.”

Everyone climbed into their respective buses so they could start the 5-hour drive right on the dot. The bus was a lot bigger than you expected.

In the front behind the driver's seat was a long couch that sat opposite its twin couch, it the left corner close to the bus door was a tv drilled into the wall that sat diagonally. Farther back was a booth and table and then a mini kitchen on the right side. You walked farther back and saw on the left the small slide door to the bathroom and then another sliding door in the middle of the hallway opened to show the 4 sets of bunk beds, two on each side.

Each bed was covered with a curtain you could pull back. All of the beds thankfully, had their curtains open so you could see which one would most like be yours. It was the last bottom bed on the left side, it was the only one that didn’t have any pictures stuck on the walls inside around the tiny windows. One bed had fairy lights taped to the ceiling and another had a poster of Fleetwood Mac.

Putting down your backpack, you sat down onto the teal duvet that was too soft to be real.

“Innit comfy? 100% Egyptian Cotton.” You looked up to find a very cozy looking boy. Harry was wearing grey sweatpants and a tour hoodie.

His hair was sticking out from different angles and you could see the faint shadow of a beard growing. “Hi Harry, how are you feeling?” You asked as he sat down on the bed across from yours and started to take off his shoes.

“I’ll be better once we’re on the road.” Something about this tone made you wonder if he had a rough night but you didn’t ask anything else as the engine started up and the rest of the band came into the sleeping area to try and sleep the whole trip to Amsterdam.

Someone hit the lights off as the bus started to move and everyone’s curtains closed sans yours and Harry’s. You pulled your noise-canceling headphones you’d gotten as a present from a friend the year before and connected it to your phone to play some tunes to drown out the hum of the engine.

Little streams of light flashed in from your tiny window every so often so you pulled the black-out blinds shut and climbed into the XL twin bed.

You gave a little wave to Harry who had set up with a book and closed your curtain to try and sleep.

At some point on the drive, one of the turns the tour bus had taken jostled you awake. You pulled your blinds up a tiny bit to see that the sun was just breaking over the horizon.

You pulled your headphones off and took your hair down to brush through with your fingers. You contemplated going back to sleep but decided not to so you could enjoy the sunrise as you rode through the lovely landscape of Europe. You closed your blinds again and pulled back your curtains to get out of bed.

What surprised you was the bed across from you was empty, the curtain pulled back all the way and the conformer kicked down towards the end of the bed. After glancing around to see all the others were closed, you tiptoed out of the corridor and slipped out the sliding door, softly closing it behind you.

“Wha ’re doin’ up so early?

A British voice asked as you turned around to see the man of the hour sprawled out on the left side couch with a bowl of oatmeal in hand.

You padded over to the opposite couch and sat down into it, admiring how it swallowed you up.

Sorta like the cat bus in Totoro…

“Just got jostled awake by a turn, I wanted to watch the sunrise.” He hummed at your response and took a scoop of oatmeal.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the horizon painted with rays of yellow, orange, and peach.

“Sorta looks like a Sunflower doesn’t it?” You said aloud to him, still watching the new bursts of light dance around on the land below it. You heard the tap in the kitchen run and looked to see Harry rinsing out his empty bowl.

“Why are you up so early?” You finally asked, after swaying between thinking it might overstep boundaries or not. He shrugged and sat down, this time sitting on your couch. He rested an arm on the backrest and watched the road.

“Not sleeping well I guess.” You didn’t say anything, just watched out the window with him, not wanting to scare him if he decided to elaborate.

After a few minutes, he finally did. “I had a phone call last night that I wasn’t expecting and it just, messed with my head. Didn’t sleep very well s’all.”

Frankly, you didn’t know what position you were in to give advice but he seemed pretty torn up so you decided to give it a go.

“When I get into an argument with someone, I try and think of the qualities of them that I love them for and try to see my side from their point of view. Sometimes it infuriates me to the core cause I can’t see a different version of the story than mine, but once I do its easier to work things out cause then I can address the points that, if I were in their shoes, would upset me.”

He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “But Harry,” you put a hand on his shoulder and he turned his face ever so slightly to look at you, “remember that sometimes the other side of the argument may not be true and you can’t do anything about it. So if you can’t do anything to change it, don’t let yourself be consumed by it.”

You cracked a small smile, “Plus lavender and chamomile tea always put my mind at ease and it’s easier to sleep after a cuppa I think.”

The conversation ended without his response because Mitch and Sarah came into the main space to make coffee and breakfast. While the three musicians chatted, you slipped back into the cabin to grab your toothbrush and went into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do other things. You curled your eyelashes again, just in case.

After putting your makeup bag back in your backpack, you pulled your laptop out and sat down on your bed after pulled the blinds up. You didn’t get under the covers because it started to get warm in the bus.

“Clare?” The woman in question looked down at you from the top bunk that sat diagonally opposite yours. “Is there wifi on the bus?” She smiled and answered. “Ya, connect to the router ‘only’ and type in for the password ‘angel’.”

You snorted at the namesake of both titles and gave her a thanks. You opened your email account and sent an email to both of your college profs to plead to ask to transfer your work online.

Hello prof!

So, a situation has occurred and I’m going now to be in Europe for the next month. Is there any way I would be able to transfer my classes online for the time being?

Let me know what actions I need to take.

Y/N L/N

After re-reading it a couple times, you sent it off just to get out there before class was supposed to start again.

For the next two hours, you went over the syllabus and tried to find things you’d be able to write about or take pictures of incase your teachers needed a bit more convincing.

You had pulled out your camera and were looking through some of the recent pictures of Europe you had taken for the extra credit assignment your photography teacher had given you when Harry walked back into the sleeping area.

He sat on his bed and pulled his feet into a crisscross applesauce position.

“You’re a photographer?” He inquired. You glanced up at him for a moment and then looked back down in concentration on the picture in front of you and the screen of your laptop.

“Yeah, for class.—Damn, I don’t think this photo qualifies.” “Huh?” Harry hopped off his bed and peaked down to what you were looking at.

“Scoot over.” “What?”

He rolled his eyes are you and squished onto the bed with you. “What are you working on?” He asked with what looked like, honest interest. It surprised you a bit, since why would he care?

He could be doing so many, probably more important things on the ride than sitting with me.

“Well, I’m taking a photography class in college, one of my last actually. I did dual credit classes in high school and only needed a few to technically graduate with my degree.”

“Wha’s your degree ’n?”

“Photography and Media Arts with a minor in Creative Writing.”

He blew a larger breath out and sat back against the pillows you propped up against the wall, “That’s a mouthful innit?”

You smiled and held the camera up a bit to zoom into the picture. “I love it, I actually take photos for a few companies in New York which is exciting. It’ll help that I already have clients leaving college.”

“Where do you go to college?” “NYU.” “Very cool aren’t yeh?” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at the compliment. “So what’s wrong with the picture?” He asked.

“I’m working on an assignment—” “during spring break?!” “—an extra credit assignment, and basically for each of these words I need a picture that correlates to it. The crossed off ones I’ve already completed.”

Harry leaned forward to read the words off your laptop.

Extra Credit Work

Please take photos over this month and relate at least one picture to each word below. Each picture is worth 10 points. You can add a caption about the picture to help it associate in need.

Joy

Sour

Chaos

Silly

Bright

Anguish

Erotic

Heavenly

Red

Enigma

Due May 1st.

“This is the photo I wanted to use for Joy but I don’t know if it's too generic or not.”

You gave him the camera, the photo was of Maggie on the first day in Paris. She was leaning backwards, looking at the Eiffel Tower.

“See, you can’t see her face, which is okay but the body isn’t giving that much expression either so I’m not sure if it will come off as stiff or not.”

He spent a few more moments looking at the picture and then the word. “I think it represents joy perfectly.”

You tilted your head and gave a quizzical expression.

“Look,” he started, “your definition of joy is different from someone else, right? But it’s easier to see that the focus of the photo is in a carefree state, leanin’ back, hair down. An’ I don’t think her body is stiff, ’t’s just relaxed. You can add a caption too if you want right? Maybe add somethin' like, the true feeling of joy ’s when you can finally throw your head back an’ not worry about hittin a wall or som’hin like that.”

He handed you the camera back and you looked at the picture again with a different view on it. “Wow—thank you, that’s honestly just what I needed to hear.” He looked down to his fingers, “can say the same fo’ this morin’, thank you fo’ that.”

Close it quickly Y/N….

Close them…huh?

“Blinds!”

Someone yelled from the main corridor. Harry jumped up from the bed and you pulled your blind shut as he pulled his shut and checked the others.

“Wha’ is it?!” He yelled into the other room, you trailed behind him after putting your things back into your backpack. Adam had a clicker in his hand that put down a black veil over both large windows in the main compartment.

“This bus has blacked-out windows, why the veils?” You asked.

“Cause if fans come up to the bus with a flash camera, it can still take a picture of the inside, this way the veil blocks it out.” The veils still allowed you to see through them sorta and you gasped at the sight before you. It seemed as though hundreds of people had mobbed the as the bus was trying to drive through.

“We’re in Amsterdam.” You stated.

“Yeah,” Mitch replied, “seems as though the fans were tipped off of which hotel we’re staying in or something.” After hearing that, the whole room filled with a slight tension that caused you back to ache.

Clare glanced at her phone, “Jeffery is telling us to brace ourselves cause the hotel doesn’t have a private entrance we could drive through, we’re gonna have to go through the crowd.” The band dispersed to get their stuff.

As you packed up, Harry’s phone started to ring.

“Yeh? Mhm, yeah—fuck you’r right.” The British heartthrob turned to look at you which made you wonder who he was talking to.

“Will do, bye.” He ended the call and took his black hoodie off.

“Give me your sweatshirt, Jeff says we’ve got to make sure you don’t draw too much attention to yourself cause we don’t want a riot since we don’t ‘ave security wit’ us.”

You nodded and shrugged off the pink long sleeve. Once you got the hoodie over your head, you noticed how it engulfed you slightly.

“Got any sunnies?”

You pulled some out from a case in your bag and slipped them on. “We’re as close to the door as we can get, it’s time to go!”

Sarah called out to the band. “Hold you’r backpack in your hand, don’t want them to grab the handle and yank you back.” You only nodded and tied your tennis shoes before following the rest of them out to the door.

“Ready? Open, open, open!”

masterlist

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles tour 2018 #harry styles concert #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years

Text

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 8/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: Please be aware that this chapter discusses professor/student relations in the past, non-consensual pictures in the past, and some present, consensual, loving, and happy sexual relations. Gotta find a balance somehow. (This chapter also nicknamed "The One where Sarah calls out a shitty storyline from FRIENDS.)

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 8: Unearthed

It takes time, but they both manage to get out some of the difficult parts of their pasts. Emma tells Killian snippets of her former relationships, including why she ran from Henry the first time she saw him. Graham’s story is kept brief, Walsh is brushed off as a bad experience. Killian is patient about it, holding her hand and listening closely. She can see the questions forming behind his eyes, but he never pushes for more info than she’s willing to share.

He’s hiding bits of his own past, too. He’s very open about the accident that took his hand, how he grew up in Liam’s shadow but preferred it that way, and his strong passions for fiction and poetry. But when it comes to information about his time in university, she sees the way his shoulders tense. There’s a lack of enthusiasm when he speaks of his master’s studies. She’s seen the picture of him at graduation that sits in his office. She knows there’s more to the story.

They’re watching television one night, background noise as he works on some edits. With the money they got for upgrades, Emma purchased a shiny new laptop, one specifically loaded with the software to digitize the town’s records, and so they work on their own stuff together.

Something on the screen that neither of them are glued to must catch his attention, however. It’s a rerun, something that used to be popular but has now reached syndication and thus plays on every channel when there’s downtime. It’s something Emma’s seen enough times that she knows the general storyline without really even paying attention. It’s the one where a professor starts a relationship with a student.

While she’s mostly tuning it out, it seems Killian is finally tuning in, and she looks up as he lurches for her television remote and hits the power button. His breathing is visibly quicker than it should be. Even when the screen goes dark, there’s a tension around his eyes she has never seen before.

“You okay?” she asks, mostly because she’s not sure he remembers she’s there right now.

He shakes himself a little bit, brushing off the moment for all she can tell, before he turns to her. “Hate this show,” he responds.

“It’s been on for the last hour.”

As he focuses on her face, she can see the moment he sheds whatever was trying to creep up on him. “I was pretty deep in my work. I do apologize, love.” He’s lying, but she’s willing to let it go if it’s something from his past that he doesn’t want to talk about.

“Hey, no worries.” She reaches out, squeezing his bicep once for comfort. “You want coffee? Tea?”

“I’ll get it. What would you like?”

“Surprise me,” she says, knowing that he’ll bring back the hot chocolate he knows she loves.

By the time he returns, the tightness on his face has eased up a bit, but it’s replaced with something she would call contemplation. “Swan, I want to tell you a little piece of my past, but I hope you won’t judge me too hard or let it change the way you feel about me.”

“A little ominous, but okay. Go for it.”

“Back in university, I was involved with one of my professors.”

Emma takes a moment to let it absorb, trying not to flinch or let her facial expressions change at all. It’s his past, and she knows just as well that those moments shouldn’t define the current moment.

“Tell me about it?”

“As you know, Liam convinced me to enroll in university as a way to pull me out of my slump after I lost my hand. He helped find out if I could take my classes online since I wasn’t ready to go out into the world.”

Emma reaches over, closing her fingers over the hook attachment he has on today. It’s become second nature, but sometimes she wants to tell him without words that she accepts him for who he is and this is one of those moments.

“Eventually, I was comfortable going to classes on campus. I was engrossed in all things to do with writing and literature and editing, and knew that’s the direction I wanted to take. And then I met Milah, one of the professors for a professional writing class. And she was just that for a while, and then when I entered into my master’s studies, we sort of…crossed the boundaries when she was helping me with a project.”

“Milah was married, is married, though they are separated. Her husband, some wealthy bastard, agreed that if she was discreet that they could see other people. He wasn’t anticipating that she would take up with a student, former or otherwise.

“What did he do?”

“Threatened to expose the affair to the university. Milah would’ve been fired. I would’ve likely been expelled. He said he would divorce her and cut her off from his wealth. He only agreed to back off when Milah and I split and I filed to finish my master’s online, much as I began the whole journey.”

“Was the money that important to her?” It’s the question that hits; she can tell immediately.

He grimaces before answering. “She liked to pretend it wasn’t. Painted herself as a free spirit that didn’t need wealth. But it didn’t stop her from walking away from me like it meant nothing.”

Without even prodding, Emma can see that the story isn’t done. She adjusts her grip on him and waits for him to continue.

“I almost didn’t finish my degree after that. I started drinking heavily every chance I got. Took Liam a couple weeks to figure out what was going on, pried out what had happened, and then intervened. He’s the only reason I still completed my coursework.”

“He sounds like a good brother.”

“Right pain in the arse, but yes, he is.”

“You really loved her?”

“Aye. She’s the only person outside my own family that I ever professed my love for.” He’s quiet for a moment before meeting her eyes once more. “Have you ever been in love, Swan?”

“Maybe I thought I was, once,” she admits. Mostly, she realizes that the feelings she thought she had for Neal and the ones she told Walsh she had were nothing compared to the way Killian makes her feel. “Thanks for sharing all of this with me.”

“I figured you should know,” he tells her, simple as that.

When Friday rolls around, she’s all set to join her boyfriend and friends in public. Normally, Emma would be one of the first to ditch out on work and get to their usual spot in the bar, but tonight she’s working with Belle to relabel and organize their filing system. Previously, their idea of “orderly” bordered on chaos, and they had trouble keeping track of just about everything. Along with the digital system, they decided to reconfigure the physical records as well.

They’re in the process of fixing the system when Emma’s email account dings, and she glances at it briefly to make sure it’s nothing important before they get back to work.

What she finds, instead, is a message with a link to a website. Normally, she would write this off as a spam account, but there’s no fill-in-the-blank recipient. There’s no lead-up to the message at all. Just the words written below a link: You’ll have to trust me. Type in code 92574. Check Maine.

With a heavy amount of trepidation, Emma clicks the link and follows the instructions. Her brows furrow as she tries to process what she’s looking at, but it appears to be some kind of personal page, with links to the fifty states. Finding Maine in the list, she clicks it, and almost immediately drops her phone as if burned.

“Oh my fucking god,” she mutters, her vision blurring around the edges.

“Emma is - oh! Oh my goodness!” Belle immediately backs away from the glance she’s just stolen at Emma’s unlocked phone on her desk, looking back at Emma with horror and surprise in her eyes. “What…. What is all that?”

“Something I was told was destroyed a long time ago,” Emma says, her voice shaking and her body feeling heavy and weak all at once. “Can you drive stick?” Her phone finally goes dark and auto-locks, and she’s honestly not sure if she can feel her face right now.

“I’ll text Will and let him know we’re on our way.”

-x- December 13: Friday

The last few weeks since Thanksgiving have been some of the best in Killian’s life. While the project of Henry’s novella is speeding up in momentum and racing towards the end, he and Emma have been taking things at their own pace and enjoying every moment together that they can.

It’s getting easier for them to talk about their pasts. From their shared lack of parentage to finally breaking the barrier of previous relationships, he knows they’ve both made great strides. Being able to tell her about Milah and not have her go running for the hills was admittedly a huge relief, and he only hopes that she’ll trust him to open up about anything she’s still holding out.

Normally, when they go out on Fridays, Emma is right by his side when he enters the bar. While Emma is working with Belle, he and Will have gone to the bar early to have their own catch-up until everyone else arrives.

They each spend a fair amount of time grousing about work, about late nights and tired eyes and how much they love their jobs despite their words. And they also spend just as much time talking about the women in their lives. He’s happy to see Will as content as he is. He also knows that, despite the strange and often passive-aggressive friendship between the two of them, Will is happy to see Killian with Emma.

About an hour after they sit down, Will gets a text from Belle saying that the two women are on their way. They each share a look, automatically noticing that something feels off, but unable to tell what. That sensation is amplified by the look on Belle’s face when she arrives with Emma not far behind.

There’s a tightness around her eyes that Killian has never seen the soft-spoken woman have before. Emma is just behind her, with her arms crossed over her chest and a look that he would best describe as being a cross between solemn and murderous. Only his girlfriend could manage that combination of expressions.

“All right, Swan?”

“No. Not all right. Can uh, can we go back to my place?”

“Sure. Let me just -”

“I’ve got the tab. Go on,” Will says, his thick eyebrows drawn together.

The Bug is waiting for them when they get out, still running. Clearly, she hadn’t intended on spending long inside whether he was coming with her or not.

They’re silent on the drive back to her place, and even while they make the trek up to her loft. She’s quiet as she unwraps her scarf and kicks off her boots, all with deliberate and jerky movements.

“I have to kind of process through something,” she says, her voice thick with a myriad of emotions. “I don’t wanna talk. I don’t really want to do anything at all. But will you stay with me?”

“I’m here as long as you’ll have me. Whatever you need,” he tells her, making sure to catch her eyes so she knows he’s being honest.

Wordlessly, she locks the door before she leads him upstairs.

While Killian is normally the one with the carefully crafted routines - which, admittedly, have taken a backseat to finally relaxing and enjoying his time here in Storybrooke - there are certain things that Emma does every morning and every night as far as her own rituals command. He has never seen her go straight to her room without carefully scrubbing her face and teeth and removing her contacts.

Usually, she also takes that time to braid her hair to keep it from tangling too much while she sleeps, but tonight she leaves it hanging free, and he’s surprised when she only shucks off her clothes and pulls on a t-shirt before climbing into her bed.

Following suit, Killian removes his clothes and quickly folds them, leaving them on the cedar chest by the bottom of her bed as he usually does when he stays over before he climbs under the covers. Immediately, Emma is shifting until she’s pressed against him, her ear over his heart and her arm wrapped tightly around his midsection.

“You won’t leave?”

“Only if you tell me to,” he admits, hoping that it’s what she needs to hear. Her grip only tightens, and he decides to stay awake as long as he can to make sure she’s all right.

He must doze off because he wakes again to Emma’s lips pressed against his, her hand sliding into his boxers to stroke him awake. As soon as he’s aware of it, he’s kissing her back, helping her push down his boxers before she hastily rips off her own underwear and finds a condom. This is not how they usually have sex - he recognizes it immediately - but even as he hesitates, he hears her whispers.

“Please - I know, please, I just need…”

He responds by pulling her closer, kissing her as hard as she was kissing him to let her know he’s on board. She slides on top of him, gripping his hand like a lifeline and rocking against him as if it’s her one salvation. He can feel the panic and anger with each move of her hips above him and he just holds on, hopes she can feel the reassurance radiating from him, hopes she feels that he’s an anchor she can trust - that he’ll be with her no matter what this all means.

When they’re both sated, she collapses onto his chest, and to his surprise he feels the quiet sobs wracking through her body a few heartbeats later. She only really cries when she’s angry - she admitted as much to him some time ago when they were trying to decipher the use of pathos in commercials. He wraps his arms around her, running his hand soothingly over the small of her back and whispering anything he thinks may bring her back to him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry that wasn’t… I basically just used you to fuck away my anger and that’s not…”

“Swan,” he says quietly, releasing his hold on her so he can coax her to look at him. “No apologies necessary, love.”

With hasty swipes, she dries her face. “I’m just so mad right now.”

“Will you tell me what about?”

“Just… give me a couple more minutes,” she says, sliding off of him and climbing off the bed. He hears her footsteps retreating down the stairs and the door to the lavatory close.

He takes a deep breath, pushing himself to sit up, turning on the light beside her bed and grabbing a couple tissues to clean himself up. He slips his boxers back up while he’s at it before sliding between the sheets again.

When she returns to her bedroom, her hair is tied up and her robe is wrapped around her like body armor. She must’ve used the time to scrub the last of her makeup off, as well, and his heart stutters a beat to see her looking so down but still so beautiful. She climbs up, sitting next to him at the head of the bed with her legs crossed at the ankles.

He’s watching her carefully, trying to not pressure her to talk but wishing she would say anything at this point, as the silence is slowly pressing in around them.

“My last ex was the absolute worst,” she finally starts, fingers fiddling with the ties on her robe. “Worse than Neal, obviously. And worse than I ever thought he was when I found him cheating on me the day that Ruth died.”

He’s quiet, understanding that now is not the time for empty condolences for either incident. Instead, he reaches out and places his hand on her knee.

“He was a shitty antiques dealer down in Boston, never wanted to come up here to visit, never wanted to be seen with me, it seemed like. And unfortunately, he kept a lot of mementos from our time together.”

“How so?”

“You know how I told you I burned my uniform a couple years ago?”

He nods in response, tilting his head and wondering just where this could be going. She’d told him the beige monster was uncomfortable and unflattering, saying that any photographic evidence of the uniform in question was destroyed along with it.

“Well, I left a tiny part out,” she admits, looking over at him briefly.

“Nothing you tell me is going to run me off, Swan. I promise.”

With a bracing breath, she nods, focusing back on her hands in her lap. “I used to wear a uniform. Took it down to Boston with me because I was supposed to go straight to work the day I left his place. And he wanted to see it on. We were joking around and having fun.” She stops, grimacing and visibly willing her face to relax a moment later. “I let him take pictures. He had this fancy photo printer so he had physical copies and deleted them after they were done. At least, that’s what he swore he did. Just like everything else, it turns out that was a lie.

“Emma?”

“He has a website. A fucking website with all of us.”

“All of who?”

“Every girl he fucked in the year that he and I were together, according to the site description. He proposed to me, you know, right before we ended things. I was going to say yes but told him to give me some time. Ruth passed away about a week after he asked me and I drove all the way to Boston because I wanted… needed the person that claimed to love me. And he was in the middle of fucking another woman when I walked in the door. I told him to give me the photos before I left while this redhead sat naked on his bed and watched me gather my stuff.”

“And you got the physical ones from him?”

“Yeah, no surprise he lied about those being the only copies. He kept them in the top drawer of his dresser, so now I have to wonder where the rest are kept. The day after Ruth’s funeral, I burned the uniform - with David’s permission and minimal questions asked - and the photos.”

She goes quiet after saying that, not really keen on making eye contact for the moment. Killian takes the opportunity to gather the words he wants to say, trying to find the best order of questions and statements.

“You know that none of this is your fault, right? Nor do I blame you or feel any differently towards you because of your past.”

Emma sniffs at that, a half-hearted attempt at acknowledgement, so Killian leans closer and turns her face to his so he can plant a kiss on her lips.

“I mean it, Emma. This is on that wanker, not you at all.”

Her lips thin out for a second, but ultimately she nods and leans forward to give him another kiss.

“Now, will you tell me about how you found this all out?”

“I got an email while Belle and I were working on our little project. I figured it was spam at first but it just had this link to a website called ‘Banging U.S.A.’ and some instructions for a passcode and a state. When I clicked, there was a whole lot more of me than I expected to see. He must’ve been taking pictures through the whole thing, since not all of them were ones he printed and showed me later.”

“So some taken without your knowledge or consent? How much worse can this guy get?”

“Oh, it still gets worse. I tried not to click on anything else, but I ended up on the newly launched world edition,” she says with quotes around the words. “Without really thinking, I clicked on this little British flag and there was the woman I found him with. She was clearly far more into the photography thing than I was.”

“Bad, but how is that worse?”

“In the first three pictures, you can see one of my t-shirts on the dresser. In the others, it’s gone. Which means he went right back to fucking her as soon as I left his place with my stuff.”

“Definitely worse,” Killain mutters, drawing his hand over his face in disbelief.

“And we all had subtitles. Hers was the Wicked Witch of the West… and my South Pole.”

“Ouch.”

“Mine was Officer Tie-Me-Down and Fuck-Me-Up.”

“Bloody hell, Swan, how much villainy can one man possess?”

“Apparently, his cup runneth over.”

“Clearly.” They fall silent for a moment, until Emma’s head tilts over to rest on his shoulder. “Any idea what you’ll do about it?” he asks after letting her mull for a moment.

“No fucking clue.”

He shifts in order to kiss the top of her head, pulling her closer when she pushes her way under his arm. It’s still hours more before either of them fall asleep again.

-x- December 14: Saturday

When Killian wakes up again, it’s to the sound of Emma’s voice floating up from down below.

“I know, and I’m sorry for bailing without letting you know,” she says. “I had something come up.”

With much effort, Killian hauls himself out of the bed, pulling on his undershirt before making his way downstairs.

“No, it’s kind of why I was calling, though. Do you still have that phone number for James?”

Whatever response David must have for that is lengthy and aggravating, judging by the look on Emma’s face when Killian makes it to the main floor. She looks up and gives him a wan smile, pulling the phone away from her ear long enough to lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek. Dave’s voice is, indeed, squawking out quite the storm from the earpiece, and Killian does nothing more than raise an eyebrow in question before giving her a kiss of his own and moving towards the coffee pot.

“Well, when you calm down about that, give me a call back. I need his number and you’ll agree with me when I tell you why.”

Her phone clatters to the table but she’s already moving towards where Killian is standing against the kitchen counter.

“Good morning,” she says, leaning up and pulling him down to give him a much warmer, much more thorough kiss.

“Same to you. Feeling a little better?”

“More like a fire’s been lit under my ass and I have a plan. I have to swing by my brother’s place to harass him about our other asshole brother. Want me to drop you at home?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I need to head to the office to finish up the last of the preparations and my notes for the party on Friday.”

“No trouble at all. Wanna get breakfast along the way?”

“Food and time with my girlfriend? Only a fool would refuse such blessings.”

When they part ways, he’s amazed at the clear change in mindset she’s gone through in less than twelve hours. Even as she kisses him goodbye, there’s determination burning in her eyes.

-x-

It takes roughly forty minutes of needling David before he finally caves and gives her the phone number James had called from once, on accident, a couple years ago. She’s plugging it into her phone and hitting ‘call’ before she’s even halfway out of David’s workshop, taking the steps two at a time to get to the first floor.

“Don’t hang up,” Emma says as soon as James answers.

“Emma?”

“You mean you actually have my number saved in your phone?”

“I’m sure that’s surprising but yeah, makes it easier to call you if I need to ask for money.”

“Ah, you haven’t changed a bit,” Emma responds, rolling her eyes at his words.

David reaches for the phone when he gets to the kitchen but Emma bats his hand away.

“I’m guessing you’re the one that needs something if you’re calling me.”

“You’re still in Boston, right?”

“And what if I am?”

“You still have that fancy talent at hacking computers and websites?”

“Listen, I haven’t done anything wrong. I stopped doing all that ages ago.”

“I don’t care if you’re a law-abiding citizen,” Emma snaps. “I need someone who doesn’t care about the law.”

“So the wonder twins need my help because I don’t follow the rules?”

“Pretty much. I have an ex that needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Fine. Come down here next Friday and I’ll see what I can do. If you’ll do something for me,” he adds at the very end.

“Like what?”

“We’ll discuss my terms on Friday.”

“I have a party…”

“Oh? You have a party?” His tone is mocking, and Emma swallows back the retort she wants to spit at him.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll be there. David is coming with me. You do the job, I’ll repay you however you want me to, and then I never have to see you again.”

“Sounds good to me,” James singsongs. “I’ll text you the address. See you Friday, little sis.”

“That guy’s the worst,” Emma snaps when the call ends. “How is he your fucking twin?”

David just shrugs. “And this is why I didn’t want you to call him. Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

“You have to promise you aren’t going to have a coronary or something, okay?”

“Go for it. I will… do my best.”

She takes a deep breath before she urges him to sit down while she starts to tell him what she’s just found out.

To give him some credit, he doesn’t completely lose it. But he does turn an interesting shade of purple at the news that there’s a website that has pornographic photographs of his sister. Trying to get around those words is possibly the most mortifying thing she’s ever been through, until David opens his mouth when she’s done speaking.

“Has Killian seen this site?”

“God, David. No. And he won’t if I have anything to do with it. I’m not going to show my boyfriend pictures of me fucking another guy,” she screeches, standing and stomping over to their coffeemaker to indulge in more caffeine.

She doesn’t really want to tell James the same news. She doesn’t want to tell him more than she absolutely has to, but she also needs the skillset he picked up from being a generally bad person in order to get this chapter of her life wiped from existence.

Unfortunately, it’s going to mean missing the one thing she was looking forward to since Killian first told her about it.

She stops by his office to see him next, admiring the way he looks when he’s deeply concentrating. She can also see just how much he’s put into decorating his office in the time they’ve been together. She remembers stark walls and an empty desk. Now, his degrees are hanging, along with a few artistic prints of book covers. His desk is similarly fuller, with picture frames and small knick knacks beyond the single one that used to be there.

With one more bracing breath, she prepares to go in. He’s going to understand, because he already knows what’s going on, but she hates to disappoint him.

“Swan?”

She’s knocked from her idle watching by him softly saying her name.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” she says, walking in and shutting the door. She moves around to lean on the edge of his desk right in front of him. “But I have some bad news. I can’t come to the debut on Friday. That’s when my creep-o brother can help me out. I’ll have to be in Boston.”

His face falls, the disappointment clear, but his hand reaches out and brushes along hers. “As much as I’m sad you won’t be with me, I know it’s for a bigger purpose. Is this evil twin in law? Law enforcement?”

Emma’s face freezes, realizing that she never shared with him how she planned on having James help her.

“Okay, long story short? James is really good at being a bad guy.”

To his credit, Killian listens with full attention as she launches into her plan and doesn’t even call her crazy.

“Barring any legal repercussions from this Walsh, I find no fault in this plan.”

“I’m pretty sure with James’ help, I won’t have to worry about him trying to come back at us.” At her reassurances, Killian nods in what she hopes is approval. “Should I let you get back to work?”

Slowly, he eases her off the desk and into his lap. “Maybe in a moment or two?”

It’s a question, leaving the answer in her court.

“I’d be happy if it goes a little longer than a moment,” Emma responds, settling herself fully into his lap and chuckling at the look in his eyes. She pulls her shirt over her head, reaching behind her to unhook her bra.

“I like to think we’re making up for all those times we’ve been interrupted,” Killian says before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Straight to the point. She’s glad she locked the door when she closed it.

-x-

Chapter 8

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain swan ff #csrt #sarah writes ff

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feminist-space · 4 years

Text

Tw: Graphic descriptions of death

"In order to handle the thousands of bodies of COVID-19 victims, the city has set up dozens of refrigerated trailers outside medical facilities. They are largely staffed by temporary workers, many of whom have operated in extremely difficult and often gruesome conditions. One of those workers, Erik Frampton, 46, emailed WNYC reporter Arun Venugopal about his experience. He and his husband run a boutique art framing business, but had to suspend their business because of the coronavirus outbreak.

This account is based on that email and subsequent interviews; it contains graphic descriptions of conditions inside the trucks.

"My friend got this gig through a neighbor and offered it to me. We were both welcome additions. There were about 10 in our crew, with two working at a satellite facility.

I lurched. I said yes. Without knowing why I was doing it, without knowing if I was at risk, without knowing what the cost would be.

We are mostly working in one of two full size 20 ton air-cooled trailers. Each can hold about 110 bodies.

They have obviously run out of body bags and space, with the heavy black bags being replaced with very thin white ones. Some are barely in the bags because they have ripped so many times. Almost all of the remains still have their tubes in them, especially the ventilator connections. Most of the index fingers clearly read “Covidean”.

At the main facility on Grand Concourse, yesterday morning began with a jumble of bodies in the trailer. No shelves had been installed yet. The morgue inside the hospital was completely filled with bodies on stretchers, also filling the room outside the refrigerators.

The bodies inside the trailer were not well marked. Sometimes we were forced to open up the bags to find ankle or wrist bracelets. Installing the three-tier shelves was delayed because they were being built hurriedly off-site and kept arriving through 4 p.m. At that point half of the shelving had been installed and bodies two abreast had been hoisted and manhandled and lifted into place.

If I could describe the utter chaos of needing to remove 50 to 80 bodies in a jigsaw arrangement in order to maneuver the shelving over them, I would. But words escape me.

At the satellite facility two miles away, the trailer was more orderly, but there was no coherent inventory. Most of my first four hours yesterday was hand-writing a master inventory list with MR numbers (a dead person’s digits). Three bodies were not found for funeral directors who showed up to collect them.

We are dressed in two layers of body aprons to prevent liquids from splashing on us. Two layered masks--hospital grade--and unlimited gloves. We do not know if the bodies can generate aspirating [COVID-19] particles during their continuing leakage and decomposition, and constant temperature flux.

I absolutely protect myself to the limit of the equipment they provide me. At least, I hope I do, but I’m probably just naive.

We use hospital bed sheets where bags have failed. There are tons of blood and fecal matter, etc., that have leaked out. The floor is sometimes streaked with it.

It pays $75 per hour. They write a check for your first day, in case you don’t come back.

I think I’m scared of dying. I don’t want to die. I’m definitely scared.

My husband’s fears have gone from, “I completely trust you to protect me,” to “I cannot believe you’ve done this to me.”

We are isolating, in a weird way. We’re not touching. We’re not kissing.

But we sleep in the same bed. So it’s all just farce. Clearly the system is overwhelmed. Just caught completely off guard. Funeral directors I’ve met have complimented our operation as well run and organized, describing other facilities as more chaotic. Hard to believe.

Today has been smoother. The satellite here has successfully connected 13 bodies so far with funeral homes. We are handwriting the time of transfer, name, authorized person, etc. After being forced to shrug my shoulders several times yesterday, this is a huge relief.

I know that at least one body is missing in action. The family has sent a photo. That must be sooooo hard on them.

I know that most people go to a funeral and see a body that looks loved and manicured. Families should not know what is going on with their loved ones’ remains in this situation . . . . We have to really move them . . . and it is difficult, probably dangerous, messy. And they are sooooooooo heavy!

My mournfulness for each body, my respect for each body is a literal imagination of who knows them. Who's calling about them? What person could not visit them when they were, you know, in isolation before they had to go on respirator and they couldn't talk anymore? Who wants to know where that person is right now?

I don't have any mournfulness for the vessel that I'm handling. I guess if I did, I wouldn't be able to do this. But I do constantly think of the people who want to know, where is their person? I can assure them that person is safe. Cold. Respected.

I think of a Jennifer, I think of Moyshe, I think of a Santiago, I think of a Melissa, I think of a Bessey and a Betty, I think of an Hernan.

I can't stop thinking of them.""

https://gothamist.com/news/dispatch-morgue-truck-worker-coronavirus-covid-nyc

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arabian-bloodstream · 5 years

Text

Gendrya Confirmation, Bitches!

OK, so technically, no, it's not confirmed, but I'm taking this bit of detective work on my part as confirmation, damnit! (Not that I didn't already 100% believe that Gendrya was happening and have been pretty darn firm in that belief all along.) So before I jump to that, I need to set it up and so I shall...

Alrighty then, I wrote a post full of happy-happy-joy-joy, entitled: "Oh, my precious babies! So endgame!" a few weeks ago. I wrote this after the episode when most of the Gendrya fanbase was not very happy. You know, that would be episode 04, yeah, the one when Gendry dropped to his knee and proposed and Arya was all, 'Nah, I'm good' and went back to her target practice while his little heart crumpled to a million pieces before our very eyes. Yeah, that one.

Meanwhile, I was all "YES!" at the end of episode because my precious babies were clearly endgame in my eyes! True story, look at the date on that linked post. So the main reason why I felt so positive about Arya and Gendry after episode 04 was because of the first scene with the Hound and the final scene with the Hound. As I wrote in that post:

In the first scene, Gendry and the Hound were at the feast celebrating the North’s victory over the undead–Arya’s victory. And, of course, Arya was nowhere to be found.

Gendry: Have you seen Arya? The Hound: You can still smell the burning bodies and that’s where your head is at? Gendry: I just want to thank her– The Hound: I’m sure you do. Gendry: Look, it’s not about that. The Hound: Of course it’s about that, you twat. Why shouldn’t it be? The dead are dead. You’re not.

The Hound made it pretty clear he was well aware that Gendry wanted to *be* with Arya and when Gendry tried to deny it, the Hound called him on it and, surprisingly, pointed out that it was exactly what he should be doing. Now, let’s make this clear. Gendry wanted to celebrate LIFE with *Arya* and the Hound flat-out told him that such was exactly the thing he should be doing.

Contrast this with the final conversation the Hound has in the episode.

Arya: You’re heading to King’s Landing. The Hound: I have some unfinished business. Arya: Me too. The Hound: I don’t plan on coming back. Arya: Neither do I.

So we have the show using The Hound to illustrate that *Gendry* is life as Gendry wanted to celebrate life with Arya–who you remember was “celebrating” by shooting arrows at a target–and on the opposite spectrum, that Arya has indeed once more chosen a life of death. Now, at the end of that discussion, he also asked that if he needs her to kill him, will she just leave him to not die again and she said probably… which means, that they probably will wind up in a situation like that, but this time she will give him mercy. However, before she does, he’ll tell her to choose life. Something like: Go get that blacksmith cunt that’s always mooning over you and have lots of black-haired babies with him. Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live.

I later expounded exclusively on that theme in greater detail here in a post (not surprisingly) titled: Arya's Choice. In that one, I discussed the entangling of the Hound and Gendry in Arya's storyline throughout season 08 going back to their reunions with her taking place together. In this meta, I wrote:

The reason that Arya’s first scene with Gendry and the Hound was done TOGETHER [...] is because they represent opposite choices of her life going forth.

The Hound is death.

Gendry is life.

It’s all tied up together. Gendry (life) chose to walk away from her all those years away, and then Arya ran away and was captured by the Hound (death). Now Gendry (life) offered himself to her, but she chose to walk away and met up with the Hound (death). It’s eventually going to come down to Arya making the choice herself to walk away from death–which I believe that the Hound will push her to do–and choose life, choose Gendry.

As noted above, I even gave him some dialogue when I did think that Arya would give him mercy. (Although to be fair, I thought that Arya would do so because everyone around me kept saying she would do so. I hadn't really thought that would happen before it kept getting pushed at me. :shrugs:) But the main thing is that I thought he would give her the push to live comparing his life to hers. No, he didn't mention anything about Gendry--nor (and I can't believe I'm saying this because I'm not particularly fond of the word, but coming from Sandor Clegane it was always hilariously used) did a 'cunt' come from him all season long. He died without uttering it even once. Sad.

Anyhoo. Comparing part of my "something like this" dialogue for his parting words to Arya with what he actually said? I think I nailed it pretty closely.

My words: Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live. His words: You think you've wanted revenge a long time? I've been after it all my life. It's all I care about and look at me. LOOK AT ME! You want to be like me? You come with me, you die here.

Same point getting across there. And this is what David Benioff said about the scene itself "Inside the Episode” that was on Youtube right after the show aired.

It's a small scene, but it's also, for us, one of the most important scenes in the whole episode because it's the culmination of their story together. The road to vengeance always ends in one place. Which is what the Hound is saying to her here. "I've made my choice a long time ago, and this can only end in one possible way for me. But for you, you have so many other options.

The Hound has genuinely come to have affection for Arya. I think he loves her, as much as he's capable of loving someone. And he knows that if she comes with him at this point, she's not gonna make it out of there.

So, yeah... Nailed it! And if the Hound is death... then doesn't that then make Gendry life considering how they’ve so closely entangled the two characters with Arya this season? Especially with the contrasts? Not only the conversations in episode 04, but Arya choosing to not spend her final hours with the miserable old shits (The Hound, and yes, Beric, but the Hound was the key one there) but instead having sex with Gendry. And sex well, its main purpose is to, you know, create life. And then there’s the first time she saw them both this season in episode 01, “Winterfell,” Arya spied the Hound and then Gendry arrive. The Hound rode in upon a black horse. Gendry? A white horse.

After she turned down Gendry's proposal--in my analysis, rejecting life--and joined the Hound on the road to King's Landing to commit regicide, expecting to not come out of it alive--accepting death--she rode a black horse.

After listening to Sandor's words, after choosing to let Cersei die by a means other than her hand, running through the streets of death and chaos, fighting to live, fighting to try and help others live, surviving because the God of Death declared that no, my former pupil, death was not happening, not today, Arya Stark stood amidst all of that death and she stood in the light. The sun shone upon her and she saw a way out of that darkness, away from all of that death, back to life. She saw a white horse.

And she rode on that white horse away from death. To life? To Gendry? I think so.

Now, taking all of that into account, the Arya and the tangling of Gendry and the Hound--which just had to definitively be deliberate--here's where my little detective work brought me to my final definitive GENDRYA CONFIRMATION, BITCHES! moment. In early Spring, D.B. Weiss and Daniel Benioff helped create a new Spotify playlist: Game of Thrones: The End Is Coming. Upon doing so, they told For the Record in an email, “The answer to the ending is one hundred percent hidden in the playlist choices. No one will believe us, but it’s true.”

Well, a friend of mine and I have been going through each song to try and guess which songs apply to which characters and situations as we're heading into the final inning. And then I got to one particular song and I literally said: "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!" And this is why.

This is from the official Game of Thrones Youtube channel: It is titled: Game of Thrones | Season 8 Episode 5 | The Hound's Gift (HBO). The description of the video is: Maisie Williams explains Arya's choice. Yeah, you read that right. Uh huh, please do make note that my post written a week or so ago about the Hound = Death and Gendry = Life, and that Arya will choose life (thus Gendry) was titled "Arya's Choice" and I done wrote that on May 06, 2019! I'm just saying. Ahem, anyhoo. So, the video has Maisie talking about the "gift" that the Hound gives Arya.

This is a really important moment, the Hound realizing that "I don't think this kid knows what she's gonna get into." And turning around and giving her this incredible gift, which is the second ticket to a new life.

He's wanted revenge his entire life, and do you wanna be like him? "Is that what you want?" Just a moment in Arya where all those emotions that she’s been trying to suppress and trying to ignore and trying to focus on the task at hand all bubble up again, and this man who she cares so much about and has learned so much from and admires so much turned around and says ‘You don’t want this. You—you go.' She realizes there is another way. There is another life that she could have.

We tell real stories about real people and in this season, Arya decides against being that character that people love, and she decides to, to take her life into her own hands and take control of what she wants.

Let's break what she says down a bit first. Obviously, all of this lines completely up with where I've seen this going. Arya steps away from the whole list-friendly, death-first Arya-'assassin' that "people love." And it makes me sad that Maisie does know that so many people do love that iteration of Arya. It makes me so sad because Arya is so, so much more. *sigh*

The reaction to the idea of Arya having sex, showing interest in *that* kind of relationship--because no, it wasn't all just about the fact that it was watching a girl we watched grow up, there was definitely a lot of... but that's not Arya!, she's an assassin-baby!--shows that she definitely has a point. Still, what she says here makes it quite clear that, yes, Arya IS going to step away from that. Having Sandor basically say to her that she doesn't want to be a miserable old shit like him was a real wake-up call.

Her first "ticket" to life was obviously the coin from Jaqen Hagar. This is her second, and getting that from the Hound who has seen and been through so much shit with Arya, plus seeing the devastating horror of rampant death and destruction all around her has brought that message home loud and clear. She does not want that life, his life. Which is death. She is choosing now to take what she wants. And what does she want? Well, that brings me (finally!) to that OMG! moment.

Remember what I said above about the Game of Thrones spotify list and those clues that D&D talked about. Well, while going through the songs, and having watched this particular video clip the day before, I was pretty damn shook when I got to the end of "No One Knows" By Queens of the Stone Age. Here are the complete lyrics. However, what I want to focus on is the chorus and the outro as we close out the song.

[Chorus] And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I Ahh

[Outro] Heaven smiles above me What a gift here below But no one knows A gift that you give to me No one knows

That's right.

"What a gift here below, but no one knows. A gift that you give to me. No one knows."

The Hound gave Arya a gift. Arya was No One.

Thus my "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!"

Yeah. They are the ship that is promised. BOOYAH!

(Plus, yeah, all of the other reasons I’ve talked about ad nauseum over the last month!)

#arya x gendry #gendrya #game of thrones #maisie williams #sandor clegane #the hound #arya and the hound #david benioff #arya stark

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prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Want to f**k with your child’s life? You picked the wrong child.

This is not a hate post. This is about the revenge that we got on these bastards, pure and simple. If you want to go off all high and mighty about how awful <Topic> is since it was in this story, fuck off and do it somewhere else. This is about her revenge, not your opinion.

Anyways, let’s begin.

I’m going to retell the original story from the MC post because I left a lot out there. Sorry if you already read it.

About three years ago, I was in a multi-school academic support network, which had a summer camp. At this camp, I met K.

K was a closeted lesbian, and was very scared of us telling her parents due to their extreme political and narcissistic views. I had dealt with this situation a few times, but not on this extreme of a level. Her parents were so far off the end of the scale, I dared not say anything about politics or religion in fear of starting an inquisition. These people made Westboro look like moderates.

To give an example, they had complete control over her phone, emails, mail, and pretty much every other route of communication. So when they decided one of her friends was “too Jewish” (his last name sounded Jewish to them) they deleted him from her life. They called the program and rearranged her schedule so she would never see him. Later, we found out they filed false, anonymous complaints against him so he wouldn’t be invited back. Overnight, they removed him from her life.

And this was not the last kid they did this with.

K was terrified of her parents, but they owned her. There was no way to escape short of suddenly becoming an adult.

I was seriously worried about her, to the point where I bought her an emergency-only prepaid phone, which I told her to hide. This was, unequivocally, the best decision I’ve ever made.

Fast-forward to January. K is struggling with the stress of everything, and says something innocuous in group chat along the lines of “good thing I don’t have to worry about boys”.

We suddenly stop hearing responses from her. Her cell phone goes offline. The house phone kicks all of our numbers, but not pay phones or other lines. The parents pick up, but say that there’s no one with that name at this address, then hang up. Her classmate says she doesn’t show up for class that day. Alarm bells are going off for everyone.

And then I get the call from K. “Please, come pick me up. I was kicked out. It’s cold.”

I’m the closest, and I had a car, and I was driving in blowing, heavy snow in far below freezing weather. I won’t say that rage and panic fueled me, but I will say it got me there in one piece. I have never, ever, driven a car as recklessly, as hard, or as fast as I did that day.

When I got there she was huddled under a tarp, barefoot, in pajamas, at the foot of her house’s stairs. The parents saw my car and rush out to scream at me for “taking their child from the path of god” and “corrupting her with devil worshipping ideas” or some shit like that. I told them that if she listened to me, it was the first time she had ever done that.

And then the critical sentence (direct quote for once): “she’s not our child anymore! You godless heathen ruined her mind!” And then, “She’s no daughter of ours!”

Now, I’m going to pause this for a moment to preface everything that happens from this point on: this is not a pro-atheist or anti-Christian post. These whack jobs are the furthest thing from human I’ve ever seen. Do not use them as a generalization for <Religious Group> or a bandwagon to sell your ideals. I’m not dealing with that shit here.

K, freezing and scared, hides in my car. The parents start to get aggressive and hostile towards me, so I make two things very clear to them.

I am recording everything they say. I have a camera on my car and my phone, and I have a police officer waiting for me at the foot of the driveway (I called the cops before I arrived due to not feeling safe).

I am leaving and never coming back, as per their request. K will be coming with me, since she is not their daughter, per their screaming rant.

They start arguing with (aka screaming over) me about how she can be ‘cured’ by methods that range from dubious to straight up illegal. By this point, I’m done. I get back in my car while they’re screaming at me and head back down the driveway.

The cop and I have a short chat, and he recommends we be brought to the police station ASAP to prevent the parents from saying I kidnapped her. After a six-hour ER visit for her hypothermia and minor frostbite, escorted by police, we arrive. All of my video and audio recordings are entered into official records, and the officer’s dashcam footage, and K’s ER report are filed away.

I didn’t know it at the time, but all of that would prove to be essential in court later.

I sign her into a hotel in my town, and lawyer up. The lawyer I know specifically deals with cases like hers for free. He is very, very good at it.

There was a lot of legalese, and a long process and a lot of angry exchanges that I really didn’t understand or participate in, but two years later, she was emancipated. I got to be a witness, and that recording and the ER report cinched the case, proving neglect. The parents didn’t even try to argue against it, instead using some weird religious law argument.

K’s older half-brother learned what was happening during the first year and supported her financially while she was in school. He hated the parents far more than either of us did (K feared them more and I was just disgusted by them).

It wasn’t much of a fight. The parents represented themselves, and tried to drop the case on “religious grounds”, which isn’t a thing.

After this, the revenge started. And K did not hold back.

During proceedings, it was discovered that the parents had been using their children’s Social Security cards for loans, credit, bank accounts, and other sketchy stuff. They were already going to jail for that, but K took it to the next level.

Now, these were all the things K told me after the fact. I wasn’t involved in this part, and I didn’t write down all the details that well, but the following is approximately what happened from what I have been told or remember.

So, WARNING; fuzzy details.

One of the things that had been purchased in her name was the father’s truck. K reported it as missing, since she was technically an owner of the truck. They pulled the father over and confiscated the truck as stolen, because his name was not in the title, the wife’s was. When he tried to prove it was his by filling out the bill of sale on the back, he found that the title for the vehicle had been invalidated when K had ordered a new one and donated the vehicle to the fire department for Jaws-of-Life training. That same day.

The mother’s credit cards were the same, but K just cancelled all of them and declared ID theft. This froze some of the mother’s bank accounts, which were under K’s SSN.

The family was already in chaos but K cranked it to 11. Due to the SSN, K was listed as the main contact for the family’s cell phone and internet plans. She cancelled both. She killed the email accounts in her name that she could access and rerouted her mail to her new PO Box, where she may have “accidentally” forgotten to say they should only reroute her mail.

She also called in repossessions on everything that had been bought with her SSN on credit. The loans included renovations on the home, so the parents were forced to sell.

By the time K was done, the parents were happy to go to jail for fraud, identity theft, and their other, numerous crimes rather than live on the street.

All I do know is that they became social pariahs in town before that. Stores banned them for their increasingly violent attempts at converting people. People they knew for years turned on them. The father was fired for failing a performance review, and the mother lost her job selling <Stuff?> due to her increased radicalization.

In the end, K’s siblings went to live with her half-brother since he was the closest living relative. The parents lost all rights to visitation, as the state nullified their parental rights and gave guardianship to the half-brother, mostly due to the criminal charges.

But the real revenge might just be that as the sentencing was carried out, K flipped the parents off in front of the judge and the judge just laughed at the parent’s attempts to claim it was hate speech.

TL;DR: Narcissistic and awful parents attempt to ruin child’s life for being lesbian. Child sends them to jail.

(source) (story by CynicalAltruist)

#prorevenge #by CynicalAltruist #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

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oddishfeeling · 4 years

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I’m feeling anxious about my future because of covid. I live in university housing and I’m graduating in May, but I’ve lost my job, don’t have an apartment ready because no one is showing, I have 300 dollars in my bank account and I don’t think the chances of me finding a job after graduation is very good, especially since everything is closed now. I have to get my life started in one month but I feel like I’ll end up living in my car. Family is not an option, so I’m alone and I’m scared

maybe it would be best to think short term? the main goal is to ensure u have some place to live in a month.. so are there any friends u could stay with? any classmates? maybe u can work to room w someone? can anyone at ur school help with ur future housing? someone in the administration? im sure u arent the only one without a place to stay now. im sorry that these systems have failed u so miserably. it makes sense that ur feeling so worried, everything is flipped on its head and things we thought we could rely on have all been jeopardized or axed completely. and ur just a kid too. is being home the worst case scenario? the main priority is ur health n safety. these things would be difficult to deal with without this pandemic. im sorry i wish i could be of more help. just do not stop searching for answers. sign up to get emailed job listings daily from indeed and other job searches. its chaos right now but these things are going to be sorted out, they have to. im wishing u the best angel.. things are going to work out. 💙🙏🏼

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 5 years

Text

Forget Me Not Jim Mason x Reader 50 First Dates AU Pt 10 *Final Part*

@michael-langdon-appreciation

AFTER THE CHAOS of the birth scene, quiet finally descended. Everywhere except in Jon's brain. Well, his heart-that too was going a million miles an hour, and the reason was right there in his hands.

The doctor had left after giving them a wink and placing his finger against his lips. Medina had left.

Y/N had stepped into the shower, and the nurse had pushed him back into the chair beside the bed. Without so much as a "here you go” she’d placed the baby in his arms. Then she'd left the room, giving Jim no opportunity to do anything but sit there and stare at the tiny person he held cradled in his hands.

Honest truth? He was fucking scared to death. By a bundle of humanity the size of a bread loaf. The baby boy wiggled, and Jim pulled him closer, soft flannel pressing the side of his arm as he cradled the bundle. "Oh, man. This is…”

The kid's face was all scrunched up-no way to tell family resemblance to anyone when he looked like that. Jim glanced around the room to double-check he was alone then carefully laid the baby in his lap and loosened off the blanket.

It might be stupid, but he had to see. He wasn't looking for a distinguishing mark or anything, but... Jim wanted to count toes. And fingers. And look again at how perfectly human, and yet perfectly tiny the baby was.

Baby James complained loudly about being poked and prodded. His arms flared out, fists waving in the air, and Jim did his best to rewrap him. The trick eluded him, and things were a bit of a mess, but James settled down, his bright purple eyes seeming to stare straight through Jim.

"So. You're here."

Another thing that might be stupid, but it felt right to talk to the kid. Tell him...

"You know, your mom is pretty incredible. You have no idea what she just went through for you. Frankly, you probably don't want to know, but right off the bat, you picked a good one, kid. She's loved you with everything in her since she knew you were coming, and she wants nothing but the best for you."

The words stuck in his throat for a minute as that really, truly registered. How much Y/N loved James. The fact she'd said she loved Jim as well?

It wasn't as if there was a limit to love. Only so much to be doled out a little at a time before you had to hold back and save some for another day.

The baby lying in his lap was proof that love wasn't about what you could do, or where you’d come from. Love was a gift, and damn if emotion wasn’t welling up in a way that made Jim gasp at the sharpness of it cutting away the bloody edges inside.

Did it really matter if James was the result of his genes and Y/N's mixing? Or did it matter more that Jon would be called daddy? That he could be a father James looked up to-he'd teach his son to do all the fun things in life, and to deal with all the responsibilities, but most of all he could teach his son how to love unconditionally.

If it turned out Rick had started this life, and the courts decreed he had to be involved, Jim would find a way to make sure even that was somehow a positive experience. He'd protect James, like he would protect Y/N going forward. Not with fists and violence, but in a way that would make a difference in the end.

God, somehow, he would find away.

"So, here’s the deal. I'm your daddy. Well, I need to do some convincing to get your mom to marry me before it will be official, but whatever else happens, or however long that takes, you and me? We're the real deal. We're going to be having a lot of talks over the years. About doing chores you hate, and girls you like. And maybe we'll talk about cars or computers or whatever else comes along. But I'm going to be there for you. For you and your momma. And it doesn’t matter to me one bit if you’re someone else’s son, because you're mine, and I'm so damn thankful for you."

He had to wipe away a tear. "Not at all what I expected, but it's exactly what I needed-you coming into my life. And maybe we'll fight at times, or you'll get grounded-hell, I kind of expect you will if you're anything like me-but no matter what, I'm your daddy. And that’s never going to change."

He'd been so intent on the pain that was leaving him in a rush he hadn’t noticed the shower had turned off.

The first thing that registered was the soft touch of hands slipping over his shoulders as Y/N draped herself up against his back. She touched her cheek to his, moisture connecting-his tears or hers? She snuck a hand around his torso and laid her fingers over his where he gently held James. "I love you, Jim. we'll find a way."

"We’ll make memories, good ones, and we'll find a way," he agreed.

He opened his arms and pulled them in close. Opened his heart and did the same. This wasn’t about his past, it was about his future. A grown-up, straight-up heart-and-brain decision to be there for the two people who mattered the most.

His lover.

And his son.

Five days later

THE TEST RESULTS came sealed in an envelope. One page, with all kinds of numbers and details at the bottom, but all Jim could see through his tears was the beginning.

The results of the paternity test are consistent with the alleged father Jim Mason being the biological father of the child James Mason Jr. The probability of paternity is greater than 99.9%.

Y/N took another box off the shelf, peeking inside briefly before abandoning it with the others. In the background, she heard the sounds of water splashing, and a momentary protest rang out as James squawked. Jim's answer came immediately, soft and reassuring as he soothed the baby.

It was one of the wonderful parts of being a family. Jim had taken over the nighttime bath routine, leaving her a few moments to accomplish something without the little one around.

Tonight she'd grown serious enough to venture into the storage room. She'd created a one-of-a-kind scrapbook to record James's milestones-crafted together from a hardcover book Medina had gifted her and some of her new artistic talent. The details were caught up, but now she wanted to compare it to what was recorded in her own baby book.

Only where was it?

She pulled the lid off yet another box, surprised to find the decorative book that used to sit beside her computer.

She'd used it for taking notes and jotting down recipes, and as she flipped through the pages realized she had stashed a backup of all her passwords.

Driven by curiosity, she tucked the book under her arm and headed down the hall, pausing in the door of the bathroom to watch her guys. Jim carefully washed James's hair chatting all the time about engines and torque, and other things that made her smile. The baby did nothing more than gurgle in response, but Jim didn't seem to care.

He must've sensed she was there, and he glanced over his shoulder momentarily, his smile ratcheting up a notch as he looked her over.

"Well, whatever you're doing I look forward to joining you later." He leered at her, his hands carefully guarding James as their son wiggled his limbs happily.

Y/N stuck out her tongue and twirled away, the short shorts and tight tank top she was wearing to beat the August heat clinging to her body with a slick of sweat.

She sat at the computer and went to her long-since-abandoned email account. Stared at the password sign-in and wondered if it was even worthwhile. She loved Jim, trusted him. That wasn’t even a question anymore. The only reason to look would be to satisfy her curiosity.

She really should go wash up the dinner dishes instead. Or clean up the mess she'd made with the new set of paints Jim had bought her to explore another artsy area that had caught her interest.

Curiosity won.

She checked the information in the flowery notebook, inserted the proper password, then hit enter. The entire screen bloomed with unread emails. She rolled her eyes and scrolled back through months’ worth of spam. It wasn't until she reached the previous October that there were some real emails for her, most of them containing information she had received after her accident. Information that had been duplicated and sent to her new account.

She knew the date she was looking for. By this time it wasn't a case of need to see it, but it was strangely comforting all the same that the email Jim had told her he had sent was there. She clicked it open and smiled, her heart filling with even more love as she read it through.

There was no room for sadness. No room for regrets that her accident had taken some of this from her. No room for anger at the lies Rick had told, first in insisting they'd gotten back together and then his manipulation toward the end.

As the sounds of her laughing husband and a contented baby carried into the main room, Y/N had nothing inside but happiness. Filled to the top with love for two people, one of whom hadn’t even existed this time last year.

She paused to print out the note, though. Not to show to Jim, but to slip into the other memory book she’d started. The one where she’d pinned the picture he had taken immediately after their first official kiss. The book she'd taped the ticket stubs from their first movie. Pasted the PG sketch she'd done of him-the dirty one she had tucked elsewhere to keep it from anyone else's eyes.

The printout was a new memory of the truth and commitment he’d offered her, even before she'd known how much she was going to need him.

Jim stepped back into the living room, James in his arms. "Someone is ready for a cuddle." He lowered their baby into her embrace then stepped back only far enough to drape his arm around her shoulders as he leaned against her, their bodies close and intimate.

Scrubbed and clean, eyes drooping with sleep, James stared up at them both, little mouth opening wide with a yawn.

"He's so gorgeous." Y/N slipped a finger over his tiny lips, and he puckered, looking for something more.

"Of course he is. He's our kid." Jim reached over and tucked his finger into James’s tiny fist. Baby fingers barely reached around, but the kid hung on tight.

The soft touch of lips against her temple as Jim kissed her was the final blessing on the moment. Y/N tucked herself and James tighter into the embrace then looked up into the sincere gaze of her lover. The father of her child, in not just blood but all the more important ways.

"I love you, Jim Mason. Heart and soul."

His grin widened. "I love you too, and you'd better never forget it."

She laughed as he turned her to face the backyard where he'd planted so many flowers. The brilliant blue flower petals had faded, but the message remained.

As his arms circled both of them, Y/N leaned back and soaked in the wonder that was her life. The one full of memories with even more to be made in the future.

#jim mason #tribes of palos verdes #fan fiction #au #forget me not

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themissingmarvel · 7 years

Text

Hardly Starstruck [Part 1]

A/N: I’ve never done a celebrityxreader before. So please be gentle! No hate to any celebs in here. I love ‘em all. Also this will be a series. So be patient! :)

Synopsis: Working a con can be stressful, but you’ve done it a while. You’ve seen enough celebrities to be starstruck-proof. Until the big day at San Diego Comicon when the higher-ups tell you Tom Hiddleston’s PR rep is sick. You’re covering the next four days and helping out doing whatever it is that Tom needs done. And while you can’t deny the obvious attraction, you’re determined not to let it cloud your judgment and to ensure you do your job well. But the man is smitten. And determined.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k

It was the Wednesday before the con opened. San Diego ComiCon to be exact. You’d been volunteering at it for long enough that you were no longer just a volunteer. They’d hired you on as a special guest coordinator long ago, once you got over being so star-struck. After being hugged by Jensen Ackles, Chris Evans, Benedict Cumberbatch… well, you started getting used to it. They were good folks, to be sure, and you loved your job, but you’d become one of the few who was able to sit in a room for longer than ten minutes without completely losing it.

Thursday night was always a fun night. You’d wake up early, get yourself dressed, and head to the con to make sure it was prepped for preview night. It meant going to bed early Wednesday and missing out on some of the parties, but it wasn’t a big deal. You tended to be a part of the rest of the parties throughout the week. With the newest Marvel movie coming out, another Avengers flick, you knew that this would be chaos.

The hotel was night enough, donning your usual baggy pajama pants and tank top as you readied yourself for bed, your routine interrupted as the phone rang on the table, charging next to about twelve other portable battery chargers (such was life.) Glancing down, you recongized the name, “Hey, Emma. Enjoying the- wait, what? Slow down a sec. Hold on.” Emma Hughes was one of the heads of the PR staff for Tom Hiddleston, one of the bigger names you were tasked with ensuring wasn’t tackled by mobs of fans. She was good. They all were. You had to be to work with folks like the stars they did.

On the other end there was frantic yelling, “Y/N! Listen, I know this is last minute, I know that. And I am so sorry in advance. But… shit. Listen, Tom’s con rep, Mark? He’s sick. Like, he can’t get to the airport kind of sick. I’d normally never ask this-”

You waved your hand, though she couldn’t see it, “No. Nope. No way, Emma. I’ve got the rest of the show to run at this point, I can be focused on Tom. I’ve got the entire Marvel crew to watch over, not to mention running point with the rest of the staff!” There was a towel wrapped around your head, wet hair inside it as you felt yourself unplug the phone and nervously pace.

Emma pleaded, “I’m begging you, Y/N. I don’t know the staff the way you do, and right now Tom’s insisting that it be you. He says he doesn’t trust anyone he hasn’t met before.”

Your eyes rolled, dramatically so, keeping the sigh that you wanted to let out internal. Emma was just following orders. But what she was asking of you wasn’t just to keep an eye on him, was she? Squinting, you stared at the door before you, “Are you asking me to be his personal PR rep while he’s here?”

There was a soft pause, “I already talked to the leads of the convention. They’re ready to cover what you’d normally be doing. They’re on board with you being his guide through this. Honestly, Y/N, it’ll be easy. You’ve met Tom before, a few times, and he trusts you. Could be worse. Could be following around Robert,” there was a smirk on the line that you knew too well.

Shaking your head you shrugged, “Fine. Am I meeting him in the morning at the main invite? Or do I have to cart his luggage around the airport,” you mused, already beginning to adjust the items you had packed away to fit this new role.

“Oh, he’s actually in your hotel, perfectly enough. I’ll text you his room number and extension. Just meet him at his room around 9am. You know Tom, he’ll be punctual about it. Just… no starstruck stuff.” A flush crossed your cheeks, one that you were so very glad Emma couldn’t see.

“Rude! I’m never starstruck. And around Tom? Please. Not my type. I’ll be fine, thanks,” you weren’t quite sure right then who you were trying to convince.

“Right, handsome men aren’t your type. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll send you his schedule and everything in some PDFs to your email and the main account. Familiarize yourself with what you can, but he’s a pretty self-sufficient guy. Just keeping everything in check and getting him places in one piece would be nice,” she droned on.

“Emma! I’ve done this for years. I know the drill. Send me what I need and I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. Promise. Cross my heart. Won’t make any Loki comments, either.” You grinned widely.

Once the two of you had hung up a slew of files came to your phone in almost no time. You were glad the con had provided you with the phone the size of a tablet, give the information. But you were realizing, as you readied yourself for bed, that this was not going to be an easy gig. No, Tom Hiddleston had been one of the celebrities that you’d avoided because of that just… unfairly gorgeous man. More than that, he was charming, funny, sweet, and genuinely fun to be around. You’d avoided him because you knew there was no use getting starstruck around a guy who’d never notice a convention staff member. Certainly not you.

As you lay your head down, though, the thought repeated until you fell asleep, If he doesn’t notice staff, why would he ask for and remember you?

_______

Punctual as he was, 9 in the morning found you dressed with comfort and style outside his door. You were wearing the clothes that you’d always wear, a pair of tattered blue jeans and a low-cut black top clinging to your form. This wasn’t for his benefit, but it was for yours. It was easy to manuever in. And the bag slung around your shoulder held all you needed (including emergency supplies.)

Knocking, you did realize your makeup and hair had been done just a little more than you might have normally. You’d told yourself it was because you’d be in the spotlight more, but that wasn’t it. What did surprise you, however, was Tom opening the door wide, his eyes bright with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Great to see you, beautiful. Please, come in, security was just finishing some of the briefing on the day.” He stepped aside, finishing doing the gunmetal grey tie around his neck with a strange finesse only he could manage.

“Oh, Emma emailed me the security briefings. I just wanted to make sure you’re good with the meet-and-greet with all the A-List around noon, which gives you an hour or so to check out the main theaters. I mean, clearly not enough time to explore all of the con, but it’ll give you a sense of the main-”

He cut you off with a wink and a grin, “Always down to business. Come, sit down and have a cup of coffee while the rest of the group worries themselves with technicalities,” he motioned you through the incredibly elaborate and large penthouse suite. It was hard not to look overwhelmed as you took it in. You’d never had a role quite like this, working directly with a celebrity, but always in the background or from above.

You were surprised as he pulled out the chair for you by a table larger than your own dining room table, waiting until you sat to push the chair in gently, “I’m not too concerned about getting to the main hall early, Y/N. Rather, I’d prefer to chat with you, first. Get to know you better. Sound fair?” He was walking towards the kitchen area, grabbing what looked to be a French press already made, pouring two cups.

Behind you there were the usual suspects working out logistics, locked in their world. You looked at Tom, almost nervously, “I guess so. I mean, I’d really like to talk about the plans for the meet-”

There he went. Interrupting you again, “Cream or sugar? It’s quite potent. Brought the coffee from London. Never the same out in the states.” He eyed the bag and you bit down your brief annoyance.

“Cream. Dash of sugar. Please. So like I was saying, the expectation is to chat it up with some of the other ‘superhero’ franchise folks-”

“I suspected you liked your coffee sweeter, though I’m not sure why. Perhaps you’re sweet enough without the sugar,” he smirked as he waltzed closer, moving with grace and ease as you attempted to hide the blush when he placed the mug down before you.

Shaking your head you eyed him, “Mr. Hiddleston, respectfully-”

“Tom, please, Y/N.” He crossed his legs and leaned back, taking a sip of his piping coffee.

“Tom, I’d really like to go over the details for the day. It’s important you know all this so that when we need to bolt from one hall to the next, you’re ready,” your eyes were pleading, but you knew really you were trying to be distracted. Getting to know Tom was a mildly terrifying idea. He had asked for you, you, without even knowing much more than your name and title.

A gentle smile settled on his lips, “Just, please, do me this request and enjoy the coffee for a minute or five. I promise the entirety of Comicon won’t collapse in that time because I’ve insisted on having coffee with a beautiful woman,” he raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying watching the flustered look on your face.

You attempted to hide it, lifting the mug and taking a sip, your face changing as it caught you off guard, “Damn, you weren’t kidding about the taste. This is potent. But good-potent.” You hadn’t quite realized your swear, nor was it at the top of your ‘things to be concerned about’ list. Rather, enjoying the robust flavor you let the man talk.

“So you’ve been doing this a while. Emma tells me you’ve been part of conventions for some time,” he looked over, taking a sip as well as he waited.

“Been attending forever. Anime cons when I was a kid, got into the other cons as I got older. Broke as hell in college so I decided to volunteer, and viola. Long story short, here I am. Got good at what I did so they decided to keep me. So I get stuck babysitting difficult children like you,” you grinned at him over the coffee, deciding you were getting more comfortable around him now. He seemed like the type who could take it well.

And he did. A laugh escaped his lips as he grinned widely, “Difficult! Darling, I can recite my entire schedule and timing of each location better than you can. Even the parties I’m set to attend this evening. I’m simply trying to put you at ease. Though, I’m concerned I’ll have to be a bit more careful. Seems things are a bit more… distracting for me, this time around.”

He let the words sit in the air with an odd comfort, leaving you to sip the coffee before he quickly began to discuss his own thoughts on the scheduling. He hadn’t wanted to cause you any grief. Quite the contrary. Tom wouldn’t tell you as he discussed the panels he’d be at the next few days, but Mark was fine. In fact, Mark was sitting on a beach in Aruba after having been bribed to do so by Tom. There was no way that Tom would tell you he’d spend months orchestrating the ability to get some time alone with you.

It wasn’t easy for a celebrity, which you understood on a real personal level. Finding time to spend with someone and doing it without raising suspicions was always hard. But he’d managed it. And of course you’d never tell Tom as you sat across and watched his plan to once more appear in his Loki attire, drinking your coffee as he read you the schedule off his tablet, that you were smitten for him. It didn’t feel superficial, either. Which was arguably what frustrated you. This man was taking time, time that he was supposed to spend going down hallways and strutting around for the cameras, with you. He’d slide in a personal question here or there, and you’d ask one in return. In the span of only a half-hour, while the team convened, you and Tom had gone over his weekend that already felt too short.

Realizing the time, the coffee now coursing through you, you almost leapt up, “Oh! Mr. Hi- I mean, Tom, we’ve got to get going. Traffic will be a nightmare unless we head downstairs now, we’ve at least got to get you there in time to smile and wave at all the people you already know,” you grinned.

He followed, no putting up a fight this time, your sudden take-charge attitude coming forward as you lead the group down the hall and out to where the limo was waiting. But as the rest of the crew filed into their cars, you heading for the team at the front, you were surprised as Tom gently took your hand and smiled, “I’d prefer you ride with me, Y/N. You know, in case anything comes up while we’re on the ride there. This limo seems far too large to be in here alone. How about it?”

The smile he gave melted away nervousness that had been eating at you. There was a new kind of anxiety rising now as you slid into the limousine you were almost never allowed into. You wanted to be able to do your job, and to do it well, but now? Sitting in the back of a limo headed to the main hall of the convention center, you weren’t quite sure how that might pan out.

(To be tagged, just let me know! Or not tagged. It’s all good! New territory for me

@skymoonandstardust @with-the-words-all-wrong @little-red-83 )

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddlestonxreader #tom hiddlestonxyou #you x tom hiddleston #reader x tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston reader insert #celebrity reader insert #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #mcu

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iphoenixrising · 7 years

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I can't stop thinking about your Dr!Tim verse (This isnt a prompt btw, I just wanted you to know that Ive been thinking about your writing and how much its inspired me. Sorry for how long this is). I keep imagining the man on the bridge being the hot topic on every news station and paper, even more than Batman and Robin. Everyone wants to know who he is. Is he ok? Did he give his life saving his fellow Gotham citizens? There are a lot of questions

(2)and few answers. Those in the loop are more than content to leave it that way,but somehow it gets leaked that Gothams new hero is a young prodigy doctor atGotham General. Tim is not made aware of this until he gets mobbed by reportersas he’s leaving his 36 hour shift and getting asked a lot of innapropriatepersonal questions. And it’s not nearly as funny as you seem to think it is,Jason.

(3)Of course his boyfriends quickly stop finding the situation funny once the joboffers from all over the world start rolling in. Dozens of them, all offeringthings like millions of dollars in salary, positions like chief of surgery, allin state of the art hospitals that are properly funded and don’t reside incities with crazy clown attacks. And it hurts because, how could they ask himto stay? How could they ask their genius sugar to tie himself down to a city

(4)that chews everyone in it up and spits them out, to be a doctor in a hospitalbarely scraping by, how could they ask their genius boy to refuse a once in alifetime opportunity to escape this shithole of a city and make something bigof himself, all to stay with two vigilantes who cant guarantee they’ll make ithome each night. They couldn’t do it, they want whats best for their boy, evenif it means he leaves them. They can’t ask him to stay.

(5)Damian of course has no such qualms about blackmailing, er requesting Drakestay in the city, and subsequently with his older brothers (Because if he hurtsthem, Damian will hurt Tim twice as bad). Which leads to a very awkwardconversation in which Damian threatens Tim not to leave, Tim is confusedbecause “who said anything about leaving?” And then they have a heartto heart about how Tim isn’t stuck at Gotham general, he chose that hospital.And that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

So, hi babe :D Iknow this has been sitting in my inbox for a minute, sorry >.

Brilliant, babe. Justbrilliant.

I also get to play withanother back-and-forth I haven’t really gotten to yet in these little things,so I’m super excited for B and Tony Stark to just have a little snark-fest,yeah?

Tony showed up a fewweeks early for his quarterly “visit” to Gotham.

It’s disconcertingbecause Tony Stark goes between creating new innovations to privatelyconsulting around the US on the most dire of cases in need of a precise handand large enough ego to make miracles happen. He might have to do somebookkeeping even though Pepper is his CEO and runs his company with iron heels. When he’s not working, he has a nice relationship waiting for himat home.

All of it didn’t leaveTony much time to be running to Gotham before schedule to do someridiculous amount of pouting.

And yet?

Here they are.

When Tim actually getsto turn away from the stack of charts he’s updating, he has an oh shitmoment because Tony…isn’t immediately talking. No white coat, just asnazzy three-piece, arms crossed over his chest, and utterly

Silent.

Tim automaticallystands, taking in his old mentor from head to foot, looking for clues toadd to the inevitable diagnosis hovering in his brain pan.

(Because, you know, thattime when he was still a lowly bachelor and could take a month off of Mercy topretty much live in Tony’s facility while things like brain tumors threatenedhis Tony Stark’s life. His hands didn’t shake the whole time he was rootingaround that famous mound of grey matter–that’s when he knew he’d hit the bigleagues.)

“If you even think,”Tony starts, low and angry, “of taking the offer from UCLA over mine, Iwill be an even bigger asshole about your terrible life choices.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Word has apparently gottenaround.

It started out with aquick blurb on the news, blurry camera phone picture of emergency workers andplain clothes civilians jumping to action in the middle of a crisis, a humaninterest story and all that. A glimmer of goodness among the chaos.

More picture with betterquality once the shock and aftermath died down, started to flood Social Media,even various videos of cables snapping and people running, trying not to gettrampled. One the media latched onto just happened to be of him carrying thelittle girl from the car and helping her mother up in the back of a truck tosend them to safety.

The one with himbreaking through the fallen debris made Dick gasp from the table where he waspatching his suit and Jay wrap a big hand around his ankle to squeeze.

The one where he almostlost his grip climbing the wall of broken shit and flaming car remains isprobably where someone saw the connection because the class of kids went on thenews, holding up colorful signs with Thank-You, Dr. Drake!

He was happy they allseemed fine and after an uncomfortable call from Channel 11 Gotham (howthey found out his name is still a mystery even though he suspects B is an evenbigger troll than he’d already surmised), in which he stipulated nocameras this time, went by the elementary school for a visit. They gripped hisnerd shirt with excited hands, and his arms are long enough for a lot ofhugs.

But while Channel 11agreed to his term of no cameras, no interviews, that didn’t really panout when it came to the story later on that night.

His picture flashed allover the damn place, the resident angel on the bridge as one Dr. Drakefrom Mercy General trying to save as many lives as he could. More video clipsand interviews after the fact (he’s so glad to see that Karmen and her mom areokay), and dammit, he’s being literally attacked outside thedouble doors to his ER after a very long shift without Steph. He mighthave been a little mean when he told them in no specific terms that he was onlytrying to make sure people didn’t, you know, die horribly, as is hisnormal, every-day job, and please let him go home where he can pass outfor a day or he’s going to lie down on someone’s shoes and take a nap.

Jay was predictablyentertained at the whole of it. Dick merely told him his kick-ass doctorinstincts deserved appropriate accolades.

Both of them areassholes, but still, they’re his assholes.

But eventually, likeeverything in Gotham, those videos became old news and the next wave ofinevitable oh shit became front and center. Which, should have meant hisfifteen seconds of fame was pretty much over (thankfully)–if he hadn’tstarted getting other interest.

Several offers startedcoming first by mail to the Penthouse, more by phone and email. Unassumingproper stationary with silver and gold lettering, bright voicemails about his“heroism” and obvious skill in emergency situations, emails from high-rankingdoctors or board members extending an invitation to visit their campus and seeif his career might be going in a new direction.

(Gag)

It was pretty easy atfirst, chucking those finely detailed introduction letters in the trashdiscreetly, sending back appreciative declines without Dick or Jason gettingwise as to how many there actually were.

(John Hopkinsthough…that one he had to think about)

A month later and thingsslacked off (or might be routed through Drake Industries so they stop coming tothe Penthouse). Apparently, though, the attention had been somewhat noticeable.

“I don’t know what youmay have heard, Tony, but–” he starts out calmly, putting the penpointedly down.

“Let me start with the shortlist,” it’s the usual sarcasm laying the mood, mimicking an imaginarychecklist, “John Hopkins, Department Head of Emergency Medicine. Mayo, General Surgery Residency Program Director. MassachusettsGeneral, Chief of Surgery. UCSF, Chief of Residents. UCLA, Chief of Staff.Cedars-Sinai, Neuroscience research grants out the ass. Sound morefamiliar?”

Well, there’s only oneway to get this conversation started.

Bonding over coffee.

Gathering up hischarts with a sigh, Tim shakes his head a little and grabs the cane he’s beenusing since his leg is finally starting to get with it (and no Steph,the House MD jokes were funny a week ago, now you need new material). Heshoos Tony out of the room and down the corridor to the chaos that is his ER.

“Notice I didn’tmention the very generous and consistent offer from StarkMedical, Tim,” because Tony really has nothing to be mad about per sayand falls in step beside him anyway, slowing down his unusually fast strides toaccount for the limp. “Because I’m not here to smooze.”

He pauses at the maindesk to arrange the charts in order, gets the approving nod from his favoriteHead Nurse.

“There’s story behindthis,” he fills in casually, “it’s more complicated than just–”

“You almost died,”Tony interrupts smoothly, “on a bridge. You ran around on a crumbling bridgeinstead of getting people the hell off while you got the hell off. Halfthe nation saw that guy with the crazy bat fetish catch someone out in openwater wearing purple scrubs, Tim.”

Well, none of that isa lie really.

Hands free, Tim gripsTony’s elbow and steers them pointedly into the break room, closes the door.With Dr. Stark roaming around Mercy, most everyone would stay clear unless somecatastrophe hits anyway.

He lets Tony stew fora few minutes while he makes a fresh pot of coffee and thinks very, very hardabout how this is going to go.

“You were worriedabout me,” Tim finally gives a half-grin in the face of Tony’s nope, andputs a fresh paper cup in his hand, “you can bluster all you want, but you wereworried, and I appreciate it.”

“That is absolute crapand you know it. I’m here to make sure no other hospitals or researchfacilities snatch you up, Drake. Not after all the effort I put into you overthe last few years.”

Sure, Tony. “The bridge. I survived. A lot of otherpeople survived, so you can ignore whatever crap the news stations aresaying–”

“All of it is true.You stupidly risked your life when the structural integrity was compromised,and since it just happened to involve that wing-nut in the cape, thenation is going to pay the fuck attention.”

Which is probably whyhe’s suddenly Mr. Popular in his field. Well, that does answer some questions.

“You’re taking thisout of proportion,” even if it’s fruitless, he’s still going to try,“there really haven’t been that many–”

“Twenty of the topfacilities in the world have made offers that would put this place to shame.Three of your last publications have shown up in recent journals. The nextsymposium you’re supposed to be at is already sold out.”

And well, shit.He…he didn’t know all of that.

“Besides, if I wasblowing it out of proportion, we wouldn’t be talking about it in thedeserted break room, Drake.”

Tim groans out loud,rubbing a tired hand down his face. How is he going to explain without soundinglike a complete moron?

“Tony, the offersare…nice, okay? I’m not going to say it isn’t cool to be wanted by someof these places. I mean Cedars… they have equipment and research facilitiesmost places couldn’t even dream of. Just the possibilities–”

A very pointedclearing of the throat makes him take a pause to breathe, count to ten becausehe has to get in the mindset to deal with Tony like this again (it’s been aminute) when he’s being incredibly stubborn.

Neither of them noticethe dark blue against black right at the side of the building, but the presenceunder the open window narrows white eyes and stays hidden in the Gotham shadow. Who even knew how long he’d been there.

“Excuse me,Cedars has equipment most facilities–aside from Stark Medical of course–couldn’teven dream of.”

The look he gets backis unimpressed at most, but Tim can see past the usual Tony Stark mask. Theexuding confidence is there like the nice, expensive suits he wears, but underneaththe brilliance and the snark, Tony’s eyes are bloodshot and the dark circlesunderneath look like bruises. He keeps his dominant hand in the pocket of hispants, probably to hide the slight tremble (which is why he isn’t wearing acoat, right? If Tony’s riding the sleep dep train, he won’t operate if hishands are starting to shake).

Tim eases back alittle, sips on his terrible sludge while idly thumbing his phone open.

“I’m very well awareof the opportunities right in front of you, Tim,” Tony starts moving, a shortwhirlwind of movement, activity, and energy. “I’m just saying–”

“What I told you ayear ago is still true,” Tim comes back, finishing up the quick text to one ofTony’s significant others, (just a little knowledge drop on how exhausted hismentor really is). He puts his phone away and crosses his arms over his chestin a firm sign of ‘this is how the discussion is going to go.’

“You can’t be serious.”And yes, that’s Tony Stark without all the touchy-feely, I care if you diekind of thing. “I’m outraged. I’m outraged on your behalf, Tim.”

“You can’t be,” hedeadpans.

“The hell I can’t.You’re going to stay here, in this death trap of a city and practicemedicine in this ill-equipped, dilapidated chop-shop hold-over from the secondWorld War–”

“Tony, c’mon.”

“While half thegoddamned world is out for you?! Do you have any idea what kindof direction your career could go if you accepted even one of thoseoffers?”

“I–”

“Anything else isliterally going to be professional suicide.”

“When you put it like that–”he snarks back, getting a little closer to his patience. It had taken longerthan usual because Tony, like Layla, needed to adults to lay it out for themonce and awhile.

“It’s time to listento reason, Tim. You’ve had plenty of time to try, I don’t know, winningthe Nobel for putting up with terrible conditions and homicidal maniacs withbomb fetishes. Isn’t it time you started challenging yourself again, and notby trying to die in this trash-dump city?”

And the shadowsoundlessly slides away in the night, leaving the conversation to finish up anecessary patrol. The rushing wind doesn’t take away anything he’s alreadylearned.

Dr. Drake, blissfullyunaware of the company, narrows his eyes dangerously, straightens up because dammit,he thought he handled this.

“I. Am. Not.Interested.” He tries, wondering if the emphasis counts. “As appealing as theresearch capabilities are, I’m not taking any of the offers. At all, atall. I’m staying right the fuck here where I choose to be.”

And he sees Tony startto open his mouth to start-up with another fast and furious argument on whyGotham is a cesspool of death and more death, but Tim walks right overanything he might have started in on by just getting right up in Tony’s faceand laying it all out.

“I appreciate the fuckout of the interest, Dr. Stark. Thanks but no thanks.”

“I need someone tocheck you out obviously.”

“I like ithere.”

“Oh? And what’s hername Mister I-Like-It-Here?”

“His name,Tony, and their names for your information.”

That has the intendedeffect and makes his old mentor pretty much pause on the next syllable.

“But just so you know,they aren’t the only reasons why I’m staying in Gotham City. It’s more thanbeing close to my parents’ graves or close to my best friend and my niece. It’smore than just finally coming home, Tony. I belong here. I’m neededhere. It’s dirty and dangerous and so fucking what if there’s a guy in aBat suit running around kicking the shit out of criminals? It’s my city,so no. I’m not going anywhere.”

And Tony just blinksdown at him for long moments, this scene so painfully familiar from their daysof arguing back and forth during his “internship” with Stark Medical. It hadn’ttaken him long to understand what needed to be done to make someone like TonyStark change his mind.

Get all up in his faceand drop some truth bombs.

“I really, really hatethis,” Tony finally replies flatly, but his eyes are scrunched in amusement.

“I know. If I ever dowant to leave it behind, then you know the first place I’m going to go,” Timcomes back more gently, giving Tony a smirk.

Even though he’sobvious not happy about it, some of the pissed off fades out of Tony’sstiff posture. “Promise me, Drake. No one gets to kill you before I pick yourbrain about the neuro-stimulation device we’re working on.”

And with the obviouspun, he leans over laughing until his damn leg starts to ache and Tony has tohold him up by the arm so he doesn’t fall over.

The very impressiveRolls Royce greets Dr. Stark when he finally makes his way out the front doorsto attempt finding some palatable coffee.

The older man waitingby the passenger-side door is familiar enough that a smile cuts across Tony’sface.

“Alfred! Long time, nosee.” He smirks at the irony since his “visits” to Gotham didn’t alwayscoordinate with Pepper’s insistence he at least be in the city for SMbusiness.

“Master Stark, apleasure to see you again, Sir.”

“Always. Let me guess.You have some incredible coffee in there waiting for me?”

“Of course, Sir. Flavoredjust how you prefer.”

“You are a master ofall things, Alfred. Don’t even let Bruce tell you any differently.”

“I shall remind him atevery opportunity. However, you may do me a service and tell him yourself,”Alfred opened the back door with a slight flourish to show the billionairehimself sitting in the back, drinking from a thick, glass tumbler.

“Aw, Bruce, is that autility belt under your shirt or are you just happy to see me?”

The surgeon foldshimself down to get in, eyes sparkling for the slight scowl on his old friend’sface. He pays little attention to Alfred getting back in the driver’s seat andstarting the car. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t trust me inyour city.”

Tony stick up hispointer fingers at the side of his head, wiggling them to mimic the ears on theside of the cowl.

He’s smiling likecrazy when B just rolls his eyes and takes a deep pull from the tumbler.“You’re early, even after you’ve been running the gambit at your facility andStark Industries for the past few weeks. Forgive me for being curious.”

“I had to see anotherdoctor about a job prospect.”

“The doctor we have amutual interest in?”

“That would be theone. Next time he needs to be saved, leave the tights at home. Don’t you have aWE helicopter for a reason?”

“And exactly how wouldI explain that one away?”

“You have PR people,Bruce, let them have a field day with ‘rich socialite accidentally savespeople on a crumbling bridge.’”

“That would make morework for me as Bruce Wayne. Batman is a better figurehead for that kind ofthing.”

“Figurehead? Oh,you mean the persona you’ve gone to great lengths to hide as some kindof myth or urban legend all these years? That guy just suddenly shows up in thedaytime?”

“He’s beenphotographed before, Tony. Sometimes even with other superheroes, likeSuperman and Wonder Woman. All drawback of being on a team.”

“Teams are wonderfulthings, Bruce.

“Says you.”

And from a pocket inthe door, Bruce finally has a little bit of mercy on the overworked genius bypulling out a warm travel mug with the Batman logo on the front.

Tony laughs maniacallyfor long, painful moments, earning another eye-roll. The contents, however, arejust as Alfred promised: full of caffeine and just as tasty.

After a long moment ofsatisfaction, Tony lays his head back on the cushy seat and just sighs.

“You’re pushingyourself too hard,” Bruce admonishes gently. “I’m going to send the WE chopperto pick up Jim and Steve instead.”

That wakes him up.

“Don’t you even dare,B. I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ve made worseenemies.”

Tony doesn’t snortcoffee up his nose, but really, it’s a close thing.

“You obviously can’ttake care of yourself,” Bruce is his usual brusk, no-nonsense about it, butTony can see there’s already some kind of plan in the making. “I can seewhy the two of them have such a hard time with you.”

“Says the guy thatneeded an emergency arthroscopy for meniscus tears.”

“Then I guess I’m verylucky you were in town.”

Tony hums, but hiseyes are sparkling. “How is the knee doing by the way?”

“It hurts when I breaksomeone’s jaw. Other than that, it’s fine.” And because it’s Bruce, he wavesit away without a second thought.

Tony hums again, buthis eyes go down to the knee in question.

Bruce sips his drinkagain while Alfred continues driving and Tony makes him wait for it.

Finally, once they’repassing the old Mylar building, B looks at him head-on, “all right. What did hehave to say?”

Trying not to grin,Tony shrugs a shoulder, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. Drake is staying inGotham, even with the more-than-generous offer I’ve made him. Believe me, B,I’m not happy about it, but he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving Mercy General.”

And as Tony is well-awarein their long and industrious friendship, the real Bruce Wayne is like a closedbook, doesn’t let even the smallest twitch break his facade (well, except infront of his boys, which is when BatDad makes an appearance), but thesigns of relief are really hard to miss for someone that literally kept B’sright arm moving after that rotator cuff injury.

“Dick and Jay will behappy to hear that, I suppose.” Tony observes with false cheer becausehonestly, who wouldn’t put two and two together at this juncture.

(Bruce isn’t the onlydetective. As a surgeon, Tony has to deduce with little evidence, so it’s notreally a shocker to find out the vigilantes have a doctor for a sweetie. Smartmove all around.)

“…yes, they will.Tim…?”

“He didn’t have to.You just told me yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

At the frown, Tonygives himself a mental point. The day he can get one up on the Batman is reallya day he needs to remember.

“All right, fine. Jayand Dick might have mentioned he’s been getting attention outside Gotham. I’vealready taken some steps to try making it seem like staying in the city mightbe a better deal.”

And Tony’s jaw drops,“you’ve been trying to get Mercy to partner with WE! That’s why they aren’tplaying nice with Pepper! Bruce, you devil.”

“Demon, actually, ifyou believe the stories,” and now it’s Bruce smirking into his tumbler. “We’lltalk more about it over dinner. Besides, the Batcomputer is on the fritz again.You can dazzle me over filet mignon.”

“Flatterer. How can Ipossibly say no?”

Bruce taps theintercom to tell Alfred they’re ready to go back to the Manor and Dr. Starkwill be joining them for the evening. Alfred gives him an affirmative and the planis set into motion. If there just happens to be a comfortable surfacefor Tony to pass out on during the visit, well, the pictures for Jim and Stevewould be well-worth the effort.

The conversation withTony didn’t end well, leaving him with a mental hangover by the time his shiftis finally over.

Night hadn’t startedbreaking away into dawn yet, so he’s still walking by dark alleys where thestreet lights are flickering.

He gets out a, “whatthe fuck–!?” before he’s just suddenly swept up off his feet by a strongarm holding him up hundreds of feet in the air.

Really, he should beused to things like this by now.

Robin undoubtedly givesno shits about how tight he’s holding onto the doctor or, the obviousdifferences in their height as punctuated by the botched landing, putting himliterally on his ass.

“Wow, thanks for the warning,Rob. I really didn’t need legs anyway.”

In some way that mightactually show he’s sorry, Robin bends down to pick up the cane and handsit over so Tim can get back on his feet.

“Alright, what’s goingon? Where are you hurt?” He doesn’t bother with niceties, just grips Robin bythe bicep and turns him, uses the cane to hold the cape out of the way. “Pleasetell me no one stabbed you because wouldn’t that just be ironic?”

He sees no blood ortorn suit. Takes a second look just to make sure.

Robin, in a creepyparody of his conversation with Tony earlier in the evening, is silent.

“Rob? Robin, what isit?”

A litany of oh shitruns through his brain pain in the form of toxins, mind control, and bloodborne pathogens (oh my).

“I have beeninformed,” the youngest vigilante starts slowly, “you are considering other opportunitiesoutside of Gotham, Drake.”

He blinks once. Doesit again while staring down at the whiteouts.

“Opportunities? Rob–Dami,what are you talking about?”

“Facilities are vyingfor you, offering you more advantages than any in Gotham possibly could.I understand the temptation of such offers–”

“Whoa, what? Wait aminute. Just. Wait.”

“However,” Robin goeson, his tone low in the night, “I am here to offer you a bargain.”

And that in no waywhatsoever sound anything less than ominous. Like, ‘I’ll promise not to takeout your spleen’ kind ominous.

He leans down a littleso the crime fighter doesn’t have to look up at him, “First: yes, I’ve gottensome job offers. It’s nice they’re thinking of me, really, but those offers arebased off a one-time emergency incident, not because they’ve seen me inaction or know anything about my…hobbies. They’re not offering a jobto me, Dami. Do you get that?”

The ensuing silenceand Bat-stillness are signs of the younger processing.

“Besides, I choseto come back to Gotham when I could have gone pretty much anywhere after myinternship with Stark Medical. You have no idea how many places wantedme on staff after I survived Tony Stark. If I wanted a job outside of the city,I could have had it in spades. The point is I chose to be here. I wantedto stay, and that? Isn’t going to change, okay? No bargains, no threats,nothing. I’m not leaving–”

He stops himselfbefore saying I’m not leaving Dick and Jay because really, he isnot, repeat Not talking to Dami about his relationship. Poor kid mightbe traumatized for life, so nope, not happening.

(Their last littleconvo to the vibe of ‘harm my brother and I shall eviscerate you per one ofyour textbooks. I shall do it slowly and methodically. Your screams would nottrouble me’ turned into a pretty good discussion on the best possiblescenario in effectively ripping someone’s spine out. His argument against thelogistics of it had spurned Robin out of the killing mood).

The obvious relief inthe small crime fighter is right there in how his shoulders sag just slightly.

“So, you’re going tohave to put up with me saving your ass when you do stupid shit like take on anarmy of zombified Jokers without backup.”

“Then…I shall haveno other option but to deal with your meddling when necessary,” the youngerwaves off his concern, but a corner of his mouth is tilted up just enough tonotice.

It’s really nice ofDami to drop him off on his fire escape. Walking would have been fine, but whenyou can travel Air-Robin, well, why not?

He pushes his windowup and gingerly eases in, maneuvering the cane to steady his leg. Hands are onhim before his head is inside and he wacks himself a good one in surprise.

Dick is smiling gentlydown at him, still gripping his elbow to steady him.

“That sounded like ithurt,” is a failed attempt at a joke because the mirth doesn’t reach the darkblue of Dick’s eyes.

Oh. OH. Welp, that’swhere Dami got this nonsense from, is it?

His stern lecture isgoing to have to wait for at least one cup of half-way decent coffee because hereally need to wind it up so the message hits home.

Jay is already there,his chair pulled out from the kitchen table and the pot filled with somethingdarker than the night.

“Hi honey,” he tiredlycalls, “did my boys have a good time kicking the shit out of bad guys tonight?”

Making grabby hand athim, Dick is one of his hugging moods, and pretty much lifts him off hisfeet to nuzzle/carry him to the table where blessed coffee awaited. Fine.Lecture pending.

He gets a last goodnuzzle to the face before the smell of pizza hits and a plate appears in frontof him. Jason leans down to blow a breath across his jugular before his mouthpresses just enough to be a kiss, the usual effect takes his nerve endings up anotch or two before the tease pulls away.

The three of them eatin sluggish silence, the strain of their night jobs hitting a little close tohome. The call of a communal shower and their large, comfortable bed a siren’ssong to the over-worked, sleep-deprived do-gooders.

But Tim knows them bynow, knows what’s already running them further down.

Through the last yearof their relationship, they’d already been through the whole we’re puttingyou in danger just by being with you argument.

Yes, yes it possiblywas.

Yes, he is fullyaware.

Yes, he can make hisown choices fuck you very much. Apparently, his no, not changing mymind is going to come out for a second time tonight.

“Robin picked me up onthe way home,” he starts out while the two of them are finishing up and lookingless likely to start up arguing before he’s made his point.

“Dami was still out?”

“What? Baby Bat ain’tget enough in that warehouse down on 23rd?”

Tim finishes off hiscoffee and finally sets his eyes on first Jason and then Dick. “Going to ask mewhat he wanted?”

Both crime fighters gostill, doing that eye slide thing they can still pull off with a domino andhelmet.

“Lay it on us,Timmers.”

“He pretty much askedwhat offer I was accepting for some mystery job half a continent away,”and now he’s glaring, eyes narrowing when Dick looks quickly away and Jasonsits back with a tense jaw jutting out.

“Which is absolutelyfucking ridiculous considering I like right where the hell I am.Where could he have heard such a thing, I wonder?”

Oh yeah, that’s Dick’sguilty expression.

“It’s fine if theywant to offer me a position, but the nice thing about it is that I can politelydecline, you know.”

“Top twenty facilitiesin the world, Timmy?” Dick’s voice is softer than he’d like, shakingly unsurefor a vigilante that literally risks his life every night to keep peoplehe doesn’t even know safe. “That’s not something to take…lightly.”

His mouth drops openwith an are you even kidding me?

“‘Sides,” Jayintejects without really looking at him, “ain’t like this is the fucking centero’ the world fer a fella like you, Sweets. Smart, sassy, moves like yerass is on fucking fire when someone’s on the line. Ya got moreguts than anyone outta the cape I ever met.”

“Gotham doesn’t haveto be the hill you die on,” Dick picks up, looking down into the sludge left atthe bottom of his coffee mug, “we would absolutely understand andsupport you if you even wanted to look into any of these places–”

“Even go ta seewhatcha might be lookin’ at,” Jay shrugs indifferently, “make sure ya’d findsomewhere safe ta build a nest.”

“The kind oftechnology they could offer you would be, like, ground-breaking stuff and…andGotham just can’t give you that, Tim.”

“No motherfuckersgonna break inta yer shit, I guaran-fucking-tee ya on that.”

“It’s not just beingin the ER or in surgery, it’s moving up to management or teaching or being afull-time researcher with grants and–and everything.”

“Make a safe routethere n’ back, you feel me? Me n’ Dickie’ll scope it out a few days, check the scene.”

“We would never wantto hold you back, baby. Not when the only thing Gotham has to offer you isexploding bridges and insane mad men that kidnap you and ninjas that are readyto attack at any second, and…and Timmy, you could never be safe, notreally, not here. Not even with us and B and Dami and everyone else,it’ll never be completely safe for you.”

“But fucking believeit, Timmers, we’ll make any place ya wanna lay yer head down as safe as wecan, yeah?”

“We…we love you, andwe want the best for you.”

“If leavin’ is what’sbest, Sweets, then we’ll make it fucking happen.”

It’s DIck’s voicecracking and Jay’s shiny, averted eyes that end it for him right then andthere.

He shoves himself upfrom the table abruptly, a jarring motion. The sound of the chair fallingbackwards a loud clatter against the softness of their voices. He keeps a handon the table top to walk around the damn thing and almost strangle Jason bylooping an arm around the base of his throat and pull the Red Hood into hischest. He holds out his other hand to Dick, glaring with the best of hisabilities.

It’s a tremulous thingwhen Dick rises tiredly out of his seat and takes that hand, lets Tim pull himover and secure the both of them to him.

“I’m going to say thisbecause it’s obvious the two of you are too tired to use your detective skillsfor anything more than superficial clues.”

Slowly, Jay’s face isin his stomach, arms wrapping around his waist while Dick secures his chest,the two of them almost holding him up.

“After all thefighting I’ve had to do to get here, to get this far, I’m not giving up jackshit. I run the gauntlet because that exactly where I want to be. I staywith my people because that’s my fucking team and no, I don’t wantor need another. I can watch Layla grow up into this kick ass little person andmake sure Steph has someone to Netflix and chill with while we kill a pint ofBen & Jerry’s. But what matters the most, what I can’t fucking give upis being here with the two of you in whatever capacity I can. Asyour boyfriend, as your surgeon, as the guy that is totally, you know, inlove with you. As someone that can share your lives like this. All of it isexactly what I want and what I get to choose. You two? Don’t get to tellme what’s best for me. I decide that. Got it?”

The quiet, still menattached to him give half-shuffling nods where they’re buried in him.

“I don’t want to hearanything else about leaving Gotham, like at all, okay? The answer is no.I’m not going anywhere to tour the facilities or listen to stupid speechesabout what they have to offer or how good the benefits package is. None of thatshit. They can’t offer me my ER, they can’t offer me time doing research in theBatCave, they can’t let me play around with alien DNA for a minute, and theycan’t give me you two. So? No. Case closed.”

Dick lets up justenough for him to tilt Jay’s head back and lean down to slide their lipstogether, giving the Red Hood a little something to seal the deal. Those eyesare bluer when he pulls back, making him smirk before he straightens up to giveDick the same treatment.

(Because they’re bothtall, he has to pull them down to effectively fuck his tongue in their mouths.Such a pain in the ass.)

When he pulls back,Dick gasps in a little, tightens his hold around Tim’s chest.

But the reliefpervades the air between them, giving him a reason to go a little more lax,just to feel them pretty much ready to hold him up completely.

“So the plan is,”he continues easily, one hand on the back of Jay’s neck to rub the tensionaway, and the other gripping Dick’s wrist tight enough to bruise tomorrow, “weget a nice, hot shower with plenty of scrubbing and maybe a little play time.Then, we climb in bed and pass the fuck out. You can fix your suits tomorrow,and we’ll all feel up to having dangerous acrobatic vigilante sex after about eight hours. If you’re both good,I’ll…I’ll wear that thing you got me for my birthday. Deal?”

He knows he’s alreadygot their acquiescence when both his boyfriends noticeably perk.

“That sounds like adeal to me,” Dick tries to be mock-grave, but he’s laughing in the back ofTim’s neck, running his nose over the knob of bone.

“Fucking righteous,Sweetheart. I been waiting ta see that.” Jay is grinning up at him with thatlook– all kinds of anticipation without any of the previous hesitation.

“Good. Peel yourselvesoff of me and lets get naked. For mostly clean purposes. Or not. Really, I’mpretty beyond compromised, so I’d probably like to make you both come at leastonce before I’m unconscious.”

“Sweet-talker,” Dickteases and steps to the side so he can be the first to lift their civilianboyfriend up in a princess hold that has become way too reminiscent in the pasttwo months.

“He’s just talkin’ my language, ‘at’s all, Baby Boy,” Jaystands to give him a fast n’ dirty before he gets their mugs to the sink andfills them with water to wash tomorrow. He hits the lights and follows his boysdown the hallway where slippery skin and things like I’m not giving upare waiting.

#doctor!tim #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #winter answers #my fic #my writing #this really was fun babe #bruce wayne #with guest star #tony stark #dr!tim

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westech · 4 years

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Editors Note

These posts date back over 6 years, and they serve as a reflection of my thinking at the time. And Honestly, there are some BANGERSSS in here!! I was cracking up reading some of this stuff. The best way to read this blog is to click on archive and go through the posts.

Some of my thoughts in the following writing are skewed due to my perception of the events at the time. Thoughts were all scrambled in my head. My interrogators were talking to me and “brainwashing” me as these events were occurring in my life. Its seriously the sickest crime ever. The information and direction I was receiving through the neural link caused my brain to form narratives that are misleading. Sundeep seriously tortured me, and these were my beliefes about what was happening to me at the time.

1.) I realize now that my struggle for freedom from this electronic prison probably is not correlated with the stock market in anyway. Neurons that fire together wire together - they just wanted to pair (in my mind) the idea of the stock market going up to a bad outcome for me. By stimulating the, say GPe with a DBS electrode every time i check the stock market, my torturers could literally control my depression. It was a technique they used to make me feel sad. This is one specific way in which BCI’s can be very dangerous. Neurons that fire together wire together.

2.) As well, part of this torture for me is a sexual abuse component. There were times where i was being recorded either masturbating or having sex. This was shared with many people (not 10 million) in order to dehumanize me. Also, I was a virgin til I was 22, and this was a very big insecurity for me. My uncle was able to prey on this insecurity and make me believe that people were gossiping about my sex life. This was done to dehumanize me. Literally, through the neuralink, by sending me information and instructions. This information clouded my judgement and caused me to form narratives that werent really there. (You should read the note about PROJECT CHAOS).

However, I stand by the fact that I have been implanted with neurotechnology and the cyborg movement is real. Transhumanism is before us as we speak. How we regulate the use of these technologies IS IMPORTANT GODDAMMIT. WE CANNOT ABDUCT PEOPLE FOR ANY REASON - SCIENCE, WEAPONS, OR MONEY. WE CANNOT TORTURE PEOPLE.

3.) Sundeep Bhan is the main perpetrator of this crime. He is my Uncle. He has been stalking me since I was a boy. I didnt realize this until recently though. When I was 8, he made my first email account and password. I never changed the password til I was 18. Hes likely been silently stalking me since I was 8. When I was 19, Sundeep (Creepoo) began manipulating me, my friends and family (covertly). He used them to get me in a human trafficking scheme. He is reading my brain signals and physically causing me pain. With a neuroweapon. I am a victim of illegal human research. I am being tortured.

4.) Take some of what I say with a grain of salt. Even when I am writing to you now, my language and perception are being manipulated. While some of what I tell you is a message that I want to get out, some of my thinking is still influenced by the neuralink, and perhaps even the will of my torturers.

5.) The post “Creepu” seems like it was written as a vanity piece by “Creepu”. I definitely don't have that perception of Creepu now. Now I realize Sundeep is just a child predator and a criminal. This shows how they are able to control my perception and manipulate me. They mindfucked me so horribly.

6.) The assaults on my brain could be delivered by anybody. It is not always Creepu, there are other assailants as well. He is not awake 24/7.

But my writing and thinking at the time shows how they are able to frame a narrative in my own mind using weaponized neuroscience and torture.

I tried very hard to be strong. I know that people who “come out” as targeted are often dragged. Please dont add insult to injury. The UN is investigating these crimes as TORTURE.

#veritas #bangers

#IS

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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okay it’s midnight and I should get writing because I can’t sleep in all day tomorrow which would afford me the ability to stay up later (that sentence was horribly phrased but I’m too lazy to fix it so oh well). today was pretty great! some stuff not ideal but overall still pretty good. I woke up to my alarm at 9 and got dressed and got prepared for our first quest of the day, which was trying to get yet another pair of concert tickets for a KPop band Jess wants to see. This was one she cares slightly less about so we weren’t under quite as much pressure to get the good seats, we were just aiming for the cheap ones. So I put our usual breakfast order in on ubereats and it arrived shortly after she did at around 9:30, the tickets went on sale at 10. Since we’ve had not great experiences trying to get tickets up to this point we wanted to try to maximize our chances of getting them by using multiple accounts (which is probably cheating but tbh idgaf I’m sure the ticket scalpers are doing much worse with many more tickets) so I had my main one up in my main browser and then the one attached to my old email up in another one (it was funny, I logged onto it and it was under the name “Ann”- my mom’s name- and the credit cards stored on it expired in like, 2012 😂) and then Jess had hers up on the chromebook. Unlike the other ones thus far this one wasn’t doing the thing where they had a virtual queue form 10 minutes beforehand, so it was just whenever they decided to let you in. The lack of a virtual queue was objectively a good thing because it meant there weren’t as many people trying to get tickets, but it also meant it was just totally random with everyone who was there at that minute. But thankfully we got in after not too long and Jess was able to snag two tickets before anyone else clicked on them (because it does this really annoying thing where the page with refresh with the available tickets and you’ll click two but when you try to go forward it says somebody else already got them and then refreshes your page and it’s a pain in the ass) and after some slight panic over getting the right credit card the tickets were ours for the least amount of money, so we were pleased with that result. May is gonna be crazy, as it stands we have at least 2 concerts (well 3 for Jess being that she’s going to BTS twice) in the same week and are very likely going to end up with another when the Monsta X tickets go on sale on Friday (and of course for them we’re trying for Chicago and New York, so it might involve a NY trip as well). so that’s gonna be a lot, but nothing we’re not used to haha at this point I think we thrive in chaos. So once we had that taken care of we grabbed our things and headed out to Jess’ car. In case I forgot to mention this up to this point we were cosplaying as Ariel and Snow White in their pajama outfits from Wreck It Ralph 2 which is 100% a lazy cosplay but I really give zero fucks because it was comfy and easy. So we drove down to the convention center, this isn’t in the one that most of the Chicago cons are in out by the airport (northwest of downtown in the top corner of the city) but rather C2E2 is in the convention center that’s adjacent to the loop that happened to be the place that they used for my law school graduation and bar swearing in, so I’ve had some very different experiences in this building, lol. I did my make up in the car and was fairly pleased with how it turned out. Once we got there there was some confusion about parking, we were originally planning on parking in one of their lots that’s right connected to the place so we didn’t have to walk in the cold (we were leaving our jackets in the car so we didn’t have to carry them all day; I was in shorts but was wearing my extra thick ice skating tights underneath them so it wasn’t terrible) but that didn’t end up happening so we had to walk in the cold a little bit but we managed. Later in the day Jess mentioned that apparently all of their parking had filled up and there were people with tickets who couldn’t get in because they didn’t have anywhere to park, so the con probably oversold their tickets in that sense. So we got in fairly easily, it was already opened at this point since we were doing the tickets that delayed our arrival a bit. So we start walking the show floor a bit and then decide we should check out artist’s alley first, but try not to buy anything on our first walk through, just consider stuff. the issue of course is that artist’s alley is generally full of great art, but I have literally no room on my wall for anything haha and I still have to hang up my 3 photo ops from London (though they are only 6x9′s instead of the standard 8x10′s so hopefully that will make it easier) and my Matt Ryan one from Cleveland. so I could really only consider very small things, lol. but there was a lot of cool stuff, always a pretty great assortment of different art styles and subject matters. I spotted a few things I may come back and get tomorrow, we will see. I really wanted to see if they had any art from The Cursed Child but I didn’t see anything, besides one drawing that I’m pretty sure was supposed to be Draco but could conceivably be Scorpius from the way he was drawn (but he was with drawings of the original trio so probably not). still a cool drawing though. so that took a while, though definitely less time than it did last year. So after that we went in search of anybody we might know that was there but didn’t see anybody, so we started wandering the show floor. Now, in terms of not needing to buy anything, this was even worse because the solid majority of it is clothing, and we both already own way too much clothing, especially comics related lol. so we made our way through most of everything, some cool stuff, not managed to refrain from buying anything up till that point. We had checked the schedule for panels at one of the smaller stages (their main stage panels are super crowded and there wasn’t anyone we cared that much about) and Colin Donnell (aka Tommy from Arrow) was doing one at 1:30 and it was like 12:50 at this point, so we went over to the little row of food vendors they had and managed to get some decent food for lunch that we sat and ate before returning to the panel stage and managing to find seats right before it started. It was pretty entertaining, he is very pretty in person, though that’s probably not a shock to many. He talked about Arrow of course but also about Chicago Med being that that’s his current show and it is after all filmed and set in Chicago. He also talked about his background doing Broadway which I wasn’t aware of so that was cool to hear about. one of the questions they asked him was like “if you’re on jeopardy, what category would you want the final jeopardy question to be from?” and I was like “musical theatre trivia” (answering somewhat for myself but also for him) and right after I said that he was like “broadway trivia” haha so I felt validated, that is definitely what I would choose given that question. So that lasted about half an hour and was pretty fun. After that we went back to wander the rest of the show floor that we hadn’t made it to yet, most notably a few KPop/Anime/etc. themed booths that were wild, Jess ended up getting into a conversation with these like high school girls about going to BTS and they were like, unironically fans of them when Jess is only a very ironic fan, and they were like “oh who do you stan??” and then the girl said she stans the one guy Jess hates and I busted up laughing at all of it, I couldn’t stop myself, it was truly hilarious. they were talking about the concert and what nights they were going and the girls were like “oh yeah Sunday’s gonna be tough you know because it’s a school night!” and I just fucking died because they’re clearly like 15. So that was very amusing. Jess ended up convincing me I needed one of the hats they sold at that booth, they were the snapback style with the big plastic letters attached across the top which said “THICC” in pink and I got it for the pure reason to wear to ClexaCon next month and it’s gonna be great, I of course put it on as soon as I bought it too. We then went upstairs to where they host the main stage panels just to check it out, there were a lot of people in very long lines, and I was glad I wasn’t in one of them. So we hung out up there for a while just to chill out a bit. We ended up heading back downstairs to see if we could locate an internet friend who’s working the con but we weren’t able to find her today (probably will see her tomorrow) and ended up finally seeing some people we knew, so we sat with them for a while until they ended up heading out, and after that we did a little more wandering before deciding to call it a day, it was a little earlier than we’d normally leave but Jess was feeling kinda crappy and there wasn’t really anything else we were dying to do so it made sense to just go home. Drove back and got dropped off, I changed into comfortable clothing and didn’t really have anything I needed to take care of so I ended up sitting on the couch and watching the last four episodes of season 5 of The Americans, stopping somewhere in there to make two eggs for dinner (which was a bad plan, I go through weird phases with food and I had convinced myself that I was fine eating eggs but I really wasn’t), and then before the last episode to shower before returning to finish it. This season happened to have a fairly brutal finale, in my opinion at least- trigger warning here for self-harm/suicide. So the plot was basically that they had befriended this family that had just defected from the Soviet Union and for some mildly important reason they wanted at least the wife and their son to go back, so one of the methods they employ is using their fake spy son (not their actual child) who had originally befriended him make things at school really bad for their son to the point where he would be so miserable that his mother would want to return to Russia with him. Well, it didn’t look like it was working, and their fake son ended up advising his friend to “slit his wrists” in order to get his parents attention enough for them to take him back, and the spy apparently “showed him” how to do it without hitting an artery, and the spy is calmly recounting this to his fake parents, saying he was going to do it at 7 pm that night, right when his parents were supposed to get home. Of course their majorly alarmed but were split on what to do because they didn’t want to compromise the mission, but the dad ends up storming out of their fake home and walking to their friend’s home and are trying to get in when his parents arrive, and so they get into the house and sent the spy son up to the other son’s room, and a second later you hear him yelling for help, so they storm upstairs to find the boy unconscious on his bed with blood all over his arms and bed. And I mean, I knew going into this episode I would probably see this (they left the previous episode at a cliffhanger about them intervening) but I really was not prepared for that image. And then of course his parents start freaking out and his mother is just next to him sobbing while everyone is scrambling to call 911 and try to bind his wounds the best they can until the paramedics get there and like.....the whole thing just made me so mad. To be fair, the main characters were very alarmed that this was used as a tactic and think their fake kid way overstepped in doing telling him to do this, but the whole idea of basically risking sacrificing the life of a child for a part of your mission that was not even very critically important meanwhile you go home to your own children.....like how as a parent could you ever live with yourself?? And I mean, I know these are spies that regularly just shoot people, some innocent some not, but like, interfering in this boy’s life to make him absolutely miserable and it culminating in something as horrible as this really just pissed me tf off. and I mean that’s for obvious reasons, this is an intersection of two issues I care deeply about, mental health advocacy and the wellbeing of children. So that whole storyline left me pretty angry. And I mean I know, it’s fiction, this didn’t actually happen, but just to see the callousness to the life of a child portrayed like that was really disturbing to witness. But I finished the episode and then turned the tv off for the night and started getting ready for bed, and shortly after I started writing this and now I am here. It’s almost 1 am and I have an 8:30 alarm set, so I think it is time for me to go to bed. Goodnight babes. Hope you’re enjoying your weekend.

#daily journal #March 2019 #Rachel's cosplay adventures #Jess tag #hit almost 2500 words with this #had a lot to say clearly

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