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bettyfrommars · 5 months

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Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

Eddie x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20’s and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.

my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.

A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.

Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry

word count: 6.3k

The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but you’d been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.

You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape you’d made especially for the trip, the spine even said “road trip from hell”, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how you’d be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.

You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something.

Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.

You pulled your headphones down around your neck. “Sorry?”

“The lake,” the expression on her face harbored more excitement than you’d ever felt in your entire life. “Isn’t it gorgeous? We’re going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.”

You glanced at your father’s stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.

“Pedicures, great,” your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane.

It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still too…bright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldn’t relate.

You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Vallie.

“You’ll love this cabin, Bird,” your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. “There’s a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.”

You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello you’d been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. He’d been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him.

You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldn’t come up with squat.

Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.

From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.

Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him.

After the checkpoint, it wasn’t long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families.

The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins.

Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words “Hawkins Landing Staff” written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black.

Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.

“Steve, there you are,” from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman who’d just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce.

The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. “Hey Joyce, I was just—”

Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were “her special guests”, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.

“This is Steve,” Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. “If you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, he’s one of our best.”

“Or, if you just want to have some fun,” Steve’s eyes seemed to be searching Kim’s face, and then he shrugged. “I mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski or—”

Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way you’d never witnessed before. “I’m…I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be on the lake at a place like this?”

Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing.

Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldn’t take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.

“Sunday night is Bingo night. There’s karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. They’re playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,” she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map.

“Just follow us,” Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo.

They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony.

Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.

The cabin you’d be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owen’s writing room so that he could work on his latest novel.

You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side.

The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.

“Whoa,” she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. “You okay?”

Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. “What a way to start the summer.”

She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. “It’s not every day that someone falls for me.”

“Well, I’m pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,” and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage.

When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, “hey, that’s my job,” before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.

“This yours?” She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. “You’re a musician?”

“No, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,” you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. “But here, I can carry that. It’s big and heavy and—”

Robin winked. “I got it,” and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch.

Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.

“She looks like a nice girl,” Kim had her arms folded over her chest. “Maybe the two of you could—”

“I know you’re worried about me, okay, but I don’t need to make any friends this summer,” you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. “I like being alone.”

By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom you’d be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. “I’m going to look around the main house.”

Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. “Mhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations at…whatever that place is called. Your dad knows.”

You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.

With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.

Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that you’d already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.

You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.

They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets.

One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others.

“I met that author guy today,” Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyone’s face. “The one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.”

You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.

Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.

“That actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,” the girl with the ponytail said. “Housekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.”

But then, there was another voice. “Now that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,” followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.

The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped clean—-the whole world came to a screeching halt.

Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Was that his girlfriend?

He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. “This Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,” he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didn’t pay attention until he got to the blonde one. “...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. They’re the other musicians I told you about.”

Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures.

“Hey, there the fuck you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you losers.”

Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.

Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.

“You talking to me?” The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. “Cause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.”

“Eddie, don’t,” Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. “Jason, what the fuck do you want?”

Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself. His name was Eddie.

Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “Why so hostile?” He turned to Eddie. “Joyce has been trying to find you for an hour. There’s a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like you’re having a hard time doing your job, Munson.”

You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.

So that you could see Eddie’s face.

Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. “I gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,” he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.

“Well,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Tell Joyce I got the message,” and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.

“Too bad we can’t take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,” Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.

The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back.

When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if he’d been waiting for Jason to say something all along.

Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her.

“Just keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,” Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jason’s face.

Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jason’s face got, but he didn’t say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.

When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.

You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—----

Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that you’d made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didn’t appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way he’d been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff.

Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science.

“I'd like you to meet Troy, he’s the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,” there was a reluctance about her, as if she’d been forced at gunpoint to introduce him.

Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate.

“I’m in charge when my father isn’t around,” Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth.

Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit.

“I just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,” he gloated, giving you a wink. “This place will all be mine one day.”

Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse.

“Well, it’s nice to know someone else your age here, isn’t it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,” Kim chirped.

If your aunt wasn’t so far away, you would’ve kicked her under the table.

Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasn’t far from yours. “I’d love to show you around after dinner, if you’re interested in a tour?”

Before you could issue a vague excuse like, “sorry I can’t, I have a headache,” Kim spoke for you again.

“I think that’s a great idea,” she even clapped her hands, applauding it.

In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip.

An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldn’t hurt you.

—-------

Troy wasn’t bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models he’d dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.

You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant you’d just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center.

You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didn’t notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kim’s book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness.

You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troy’s stare.

On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.

Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone else’s voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.

And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.

"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasn’t coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right.

"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.

Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.

At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.

Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.

Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was performing the song against his will.

The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.

“What’s your major?” Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. “In college?”

You were confused for a second but then, “oh, I took the year off to…figure some things out.” The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back.

“I spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,” he offered, unprovoked. “The women there are, wow, so smoking hot.”

The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos you’d noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.

“Find someone special for this next one,” he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.

The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.

I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away

I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go

I come back to the place you are

You watched the performance from over Troy’s shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddie’s hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus.

He’d captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.

They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic.

He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you weren’t expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again.

All my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

He wouldn’t break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.

Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.

"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."

In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."

Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. “The music sucks.”

—--

It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.

“Don’t worry about your parents,” Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. “They know you’re with me, so they’re probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.”

The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.

In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Jane’s hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.

It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldn’t worry.

As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point

And that made you want to venture in even more.

You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance.

You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didn’t seem too concerned with your presence.

Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property.

(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)

It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two.

“Hey,” a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. “What are you going out here?”

Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin.

She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.

“Where did you come from?” You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.

“My cabin is right over there,” she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.

She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.

“You don’t have to—” Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.

“I want to,” you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. “I carry that big cello around all the time, remember? I’m used to it.”

Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. “What is that place?”

“Listen,” she gave you an imploring look. “I will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad won’t want you here, trust me.”

Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. “I’m a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Besides,” she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. “If your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you snapped. But then, softer, you added, “I barely just met him tonight.”

Robin wasn’t in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But stay close to me, okay? You’re not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.”

You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.

She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.

“Be extra careful with that, it’s Eddie’s baby. He’ll grow horns if anything happens to it.”

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Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.

Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.

as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think ❤️

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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082

#Dirty Metal Summer #dirty dancing au #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things fic #Steve Harrington #robin buckley

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lyomeii · 11 months

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adorable and innocent

✥ warnings: yandere themes, platonic relationships, spoilers, death mentions, reader being neglected.

✥ request by anon! Hello! Can you do yandere Athanasia and Yandere Claude with Innocent Reader who is Claude daughter but Athanasia younger sister?

✥ a/n: yes, i can! anon :) also the end might be quiet rush since i didn’t know how to end so yeah.

✥ the second daughter of claude was different from athanasia. born from a contract marriage with a noble lady, the little girl grown up to be lonely most of her time at the palace. since father was always busy with his work or preferring to be by himself and mother who was dead due a carriage accident earlier that year.

✥ even with the lack of parenting from both sides, that didn’t stop the young girl to become someone kind to the servants and to athanasia herself. the two girls who were ignored by their parents become closer to each other, become each other pillar as everyone were against them. inside their little minds, nothing could go wrong.

✥ until that very day when athanasia was accused of poisoning jennete and sentenced to death. that moment made you cry in the middle of the public, begging father that athy would never do such thing to anyone, but he didn’t listen your pleads. athanasia lost her life and you lost your sister that day, making you become depressing and once of age, you were thrown into a loveless nobleman from another empire.

✥ in the new timeline, athy won’t left that happen. knowing about how the plot will happen, she will rewrite the tragic destiny between you and her, making sure they both of you will get the happy end that you always dreamed about it.

✥ first, when your biological mother died, instead of searching for claude for any type of emotional support, athy was the one who comforted you. the tears of your eyes dirty her nightgown was more than enough to realize how precious you are too this words, she can’t afford to lose you again.

✥ times goes on, athy and you grown up to become closer than ever. unfortunately, things take a different turn when both of you first meet claude that day. the emperor stares at both athy and you.

✥ claude forget about the existence about the two of you, he can’t deny that. yet, the blond never expected to see the two of his children together and playing with jewelry at the back of the garden. he can’t change the past, of course, but he change the way he will treat the two of better for now on.

✥ athy plan wasn’t to make claude care about her and you, yet she can ask him for jewelry and maybe gold for the future escape. but for some reason, she feels bad about me it.

✥ despite all the pain you’ve been through, your naivety always lead you to wish for claude affection since she can remembers and now, you’ve catch his attention alongside with gifts and candies that bring a sweet smile on your face. maybe staying around the palace is a better way to protect you.

✥ now the two of you live a better life as Claude recognize their daughters. the servants now treat you so diligently and care about your safety, not letting you go out of the palace since the emperor himself ordered to all the residents that unlike athanasia, you can’t never leave home alone. his words were clear and sharp to those who serve him, and those who disobey him will suffer.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

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litnerdwrites · 2 months

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Justice for Nesta recs (AO3)

Most, if not all, of these recs are in the Justice for Nesta/ ACOSF rewrite/fix-it vein. It will be updates as I find more fics, but feel free to send any recs you have.

TRIGGER WARNING! Many of these fics will be very dark, with references to suicide, ptsd, misogyny, and IC BS. However, I'll be sure to add specifics where applicable.

Fics For Those Craving Nesta JusticeI put all the fics I found into one collection on AO3 that, as the title suggests, are for those craving Nesta Justice. Please read the relevant tags for each fic, as many of them contain reference to PTSD, SA (both past referenced and in story), and general IC BS.

I'll also list every fic in this collection bellow, just to keep them all in one place. Feel free to also add your own finds or works if you have any. The collection is open, but moderated.

Those the Stars Cannot Hear by @kataraavatara An ACOSF rewrite where Mor makes good on her threat to leave Nesta in the CON.

Baby, now we got bad blood by Pumpkinspice_Lou They say you should never come between a male and his mate. Rhysand should've known better. Aka Cassian finally choosing Nesta. Completed two-shot.

A Court of Vice and Victors by Wishcamper Acosf rewritten by a therapist. Need I say more? Incomplete.

You Made Her Like That By BookWorm77071 A few days into their Hike from Hell, Nesta is able to form one coherent thought: I don't want to do this anymore. So she stops. Three chapter short story. Completed.

Nesta becomes a baby by Theladyofbloodshed Exactly what the title says. Oneshot.

A Court of Tangled Flames by Theladyofbloodshed A Neris fic where Nesta gets the love story she deserves.

ACOTAR snippet collection by Theladyofbloodshed A collection of Acotar what ifs.

Nesta vs. The Buffer by Theladyofbloodshed After Nesta finally snaps at another 'family' dinner, calling Cassian and Mor out on their shit, she begins to heal and fall in love on her own terms. With a certain shadowsinger. Completed. Nezriel fic. Anti IC but they kind of redeem themselves at the end. Completed.

AU Where We Pretend Acosf Didn't Happen by Theladyofbloodshed An alternative take to ACOSF, starting from post ACOFS. Nesta ends up leaving Velaris, starting herself on a journey of self discovery and healing. TW Beron Vansera, implied/referenced SA, IC being assholes.

Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream by This_Immortal_Hope Nesta was a wolf. So, much like a wolf, she bided her time, accepting her exile with ice in her and determination in her heart. When she was ready, she tore their Court of Dreams apart with their own hypocrisy. One shot. No ship. Rhysand is thoroughly put in his place. Oneshot.

Second Chances by miryamdev Cassian apologises to Nesta after the HOFAS bonus chapter.

A trick of the light by closet_monster There was nothing condemning about madness or paralyzing fear. Nesta was familiar with both — they seemed to be a recurring theme in both womanhood and life in Hewn. Oneshot. TW Depression, self harm, and implied abuse. Please double check the tags before reading.

Burn for Eternity by rosemai Nesta is defeated and broken down by the words of her sisters and the IC, so she takes matters into her own hands and meets a group on individuals who could give her the help she needs. Incomplete.

Nesta's Truth by grovellingboyfriends After another year of leaving Nesta alone, Cassian finds Nesta in her apartment on Solstice, standing over a dead man. TW for implied SA, parental abuse, Elain is a bitch. 3/5 chapters published as of making this post.

Daylight by Flowerflamestar Nesta Archeron, banished and betrayed, ran from cold and hatred straight into the light of Day and found a place where she could belong. Completed.

Might I Suggest You Don't Fuck With My Sis by MacabreGiggles The intervention rethought, where the Archeron sisters decide to stand up for one another and put the IC in their place. Incomplete.

I died. I will die. It's alright. I don't mind. By MacabreGiggles Nesta resorts to other means to cope, like drugs. Incomplete. TW. Abuse. Alcolism. Suicide. Sexual assault. Drug abuse.

The Veil of Silence by Hrizantemy There exists a veil of silence, it shrouds our voices masking our truths, muffling our cries, our voices are muted, and dreams whispered. Incomplete.

You're a crisis of my faith by porque_nolosdos Nesta and Elain leave the NC, and upon seeing the IC's reaction, Feyre decides to ditch them too. Incomplete.

A thousand cuts by adelindschade It finally clicks for Cassian just how badly Nesta was hurting (it only took three TW suicide TW attempts), so he decides to try thinking of what Nesta would want. This decision leaves a ripple effect that will change the NC as we know it. Incomplete.

The consequences of normality by TheTeaQueen After the events of ACOSF, things seem relatively normal. Until Cassian realises that Nesta doesn't ask for things, or that self hatred still grips her, or the facade she puts on for her family. When she starts cutting back on training and work in the library, he begins to worry. Maybe things aren't as perfect as he thought. Maybe their methods in helping her weren't as effective as he thought. Incomplete.

Three little words by TheTeaQueen Cassian finally says those three little words that Nesta needed to hear. Oneshot.

Like fire, she raged by TheTeaQueen Emerie stands up for Nesta and puts Rhys and Feyre in their place. Completed.

Of Death and Resurrection by TheTeaQueen Part 1 of In the name of healing and happiness. Nesta was ready to die. So to save Feyre and Nyx, she did. Can Rhysand, the only person who can save her, bring her back from the brink? Completed. TW Implied suicide, rape/sa, anti Elain.

Of Shadows and Light by TheTeaQueen Part 2 of In the name of healing and happiness. Technically more of a Gwynriel fic, but does have some Nessian since it follows the aftermath of Of death and Resurrection, only Azriel, Gwyn & Elain are the main focus. Ties up a lose thread or two from part 1, and is 100% Anti Elain. Completed. TW Implied child abuse, implied suicide, torture.

Of Reopened Wounds and Retribution by TheTeaQueen Part 3 of In the name of healing and happiness. A trip to the human lands to discuss the treaty leads Nesta to face Thomas Mandray again. This time, she has family willing to go to hell and back for her. Incomplete. TW Implied rape/sa, panic attack.

Lady Death and Her Kingdom by TheTeaQueen Amren pushes Nesta too far, causing her to awaken a strange new power. TW Implied child abuse. Incomplete.

The Hike, Alternatively by TheTeaQueen An alternative take on The Hike from Hell, where Nesta attempt to TW commit suicide TW, and Cassian realises just how messed up their methods, and the events leading up to the hike are. Written for Suicide prevention month. Completed. TW Self harm, suicide, The Hike.

To Pay a Debt by TheTeaQueen When Nesta sees that Feyre didn't include her in any of the paintings, she does the only thing she can think of; Run. Incomplete. TW, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentioned sa.

Burning from the Inside out by TheTeaQueen An au where Nesta's secretly lived with Chronic pain her whole life, only for the cauldron and her new powers to exacerbate it. Complete. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, suicidal thoughts, ableism, internalised ableism.

The Whole Truth by TheTeaQueen An alternative take where Nesta's deepest secret comes to light when Elain explodes at the dinner table one night. This forces the IC and her sisters to reevaluate their perception of her. Incomplete. TW: Child abuse, suicidal thoughts/ideation, forced prostitution, sexual assault (underage!!)

Set my Soul Alight by moodymelanist Nesta finds solace in Autumn. No Nessian. Completed. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced torture.

Falling by becauseofreading Another take on what happens after Cassian tells Nesta that everybody hates her. Incomplete. TW Self harm, suicidal thoughts, blood and injuries.

Destruction and Renewal by Vorbi Nesta is given the opportunity to form new alliances. Initially, she scoffs at the idea, but after a small, final act of disrespect from the IC, she decides to see where this new path leads us. Incomplete. TW Implied/referenced abuse.

No One Likes A Mad Woman by Separatist_Apologist You made her like that. Nesta has had her choices tripped away, so when Eris offers her an out, she takes it. No happy ending for Cassian. The Night Court gets no sympathy. Completed. TW Domestic violence

A Cup of Tea by shaziskhalid After realising that the Cassian of her dreams isn't the Cassian she's mated to, everything changed. (MCU! Wanda, modern Au). Incomplete.

Promise by Daughterofthesea Begins during that scene where Cassian follows Nesta, and ends with him understanding just how much pain she's in, and deciding to actually help her.

Stay here (I love you, but I need another year) by littleplease Nesta is tired, and losing the will to even try. Complete. TW Apathy, depression, vuage suicidal thoughts.

What you did to me (I'll spend my life trying to rise) by filthymouthedslut Nesta is done with the IC's holier-than-thou attitude. No ship. Incomplete (3/4) as of updating this post.

Everybody hates you by Booksandsushi A different take on the time Cassian tells Nesta that Everybody hates her. Incomplete.

Change is good by Booksandsushi Nesta figures her life out on her own. Complete.

Truth of the Heart By TheFreakPanda The months after ACOFAS leave Nesta presented with some new opportunities. Full of therapy and dancing. Completed.

I've Always Liked to Play with Fire by catalyste After her village is destroyed and family killed by Hybern following Feyre's revenge mission, you wake up healed in the NC. After Lucien leaves you there, you find yourself trapped with Nesta Archeron, who turns out to be an unlikely ally. The two of you plan your escape with the help of Eris Vansera. Polly, Neris/reader, with IC bashing, and dragons. Incomplete.

The relapse by Janes_Melodies Something broke in Nesta when she learned about the results of the vote, knowing it was a tie until Feyre. She was trying for her sisters and for Cassian, yet they still think she's cruel enough to create a whole new trove just to kill them all. For the first time in months, she gave into her desires. Incomplete. TW Alcoholism, Implied/referenced self harm, suicidal thoughts.

You're safe now by annieleonhardtsring Rewrite of the scene where Nesta falls down the stairs, and Azriel stands up for her. Complete.

Love her how she should be loved by julemmaes Cassian overhears his family making some not-so-subtle comments about Nesta, and it pushes him over the edge. So he goes to bat for her, blaming his friends for everything wrong with their relationship with his girlfriend. Modern AU completed.

The Nest World - The Next Life by bat_called_phil ACOSF canon divergence fic that starts with the intervention, but diverts when Nesta takes a stand for herself, and Feyre starts holding Rhys accountable. TW Implied/referenced suicide, Implied/referenced abortion.

A Court of Spite and Isolation by xxTAO Nesta choses the human lands, separated from the IC and the distractions from her trauma, she spirals. Incomplete (4/6) TW Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced alcoholism, Suicide attempt.

Come Home by Rhysanoodle Cassian learns how Nesta's been living since she came to Illyria, and which fears haunt her the most. Complete.

#pro nesta #anti inner circle #anti ic #anti acosf #nesta deserves better #pro nesta archeron #anti rhysand #nesta acotar #anti elain #the archeron sisters deserve better #anti rhys #anti amren #anti cassian #anti feyre #anti mor #anti morrigan #fic rec

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

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Speed Limit 2525

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When Tim Bradford goes head-to-head with a bomber, he finds himself on a bus carrying a bomb and you.

Warnings: spoilers for Speed (1994) (I think this qualifies as an AU/rewrite), angst, bombings, nightmares, death and fear of dying, teasing, fluff, a little make out scene at the end? basically every warning that applies to the movie and The Rookie. I also made up a story about "Reaper"

Word Count: 11.7k+ words

A/N: This isn't completely proofread, but I'll be back soon to check it. I hope you enjoy!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Shoot him.

Tim doesn’t feel the trigger depress, only the hot desert air beating against his face. Though the trigger doesn’t move, a bullet rips through the barrel and into Tim’s only surviving squad member. He yells to warn his teammate, but no sound comes out. The wind is loud in the desert, yet the sound of Tim’s friend falling against the sand seems to echo for miles.

“Bradford,” the injured soldier coughs. “Wrong target, Reaper.”

Tim’s chest is tight with guilt and anxiety when he wakes. The sheets are wrapped tightly around his legs, and his shallow breaths distract him from freeing himself. Before he has time to orient himself, Tim’s phone rings and snaps him out of his post-nightmare, adrenaline-fueled state as he reaches across the empty pillow to answer it.

“Bradford,” he says.

“Get to the station as soon as you can,” Sergeant Grey demands. “Your Metro captain has me calling everybody in. We’re sending patrol units out, too. It’s gonna be a long day, Tim.”

Tim forgets about the nightmare and the memory within as he rushes to get ready. Tim’s tunnel vision focuses on work, and everything else fades away. Middle-of-the-night calls aren’t unusual, especially for a Metro Sergeant like himself, but this many officers getting a wake-up call is. Whatever is happening is big, and it doesn’t sound to Tim like it will be over any time soon. He makes it to the station in record time, and his commander is directing the other Metro officers when he enters.

“We don’t have time,” she says suddenly. “I’m running this force from here. Sergeant Grey will fill you in on the way. Get to the target location and stick together. Bradford, you’re with Temple!”

Tim nods as Harry Temple walks to his side. Harry was one of Angela Lopez’s first patrol partners, but he decided Metro was a better fit when the time to move forward in his career came along. Like Tim, he was in the Army before becoming a police officer, and he and Tim have some shared experiences. Neither of them is overly eager to bond over them, however.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Tim asks Harry as he turns on the lights and sirens in the shop.

“All I heard was ‘elevator,’” Harry answers. “I’m assuming they’re more to this than that.”

“Listen up,” Sergeant Grey says over the radio. “This is your official brief. When we roll up to the scene, we go straight in. No time for questions after we exit these cars. Fifteen people are trapped on an express elevator. The owner of the building is also inside. A bomb took out the cables, and our bomber is demanding three million dollars, or he blows the emergency brake, too. Cell phone service is spotty in the building, so we can’t rely on that to track anyone or anything.”

“Cell phone service is nonexistent in the elevator. A defensive move against trade secrets,” someone adds.

“What’s our clock, Sergeant?” Harry radios.

“He gave one hour when he called, which leaves us with twenty-eight minutes.”

“The only thing that’ll stop the elevator is the basement, right?” Tim adds.

“The city plans to avoid that. They’re working to release the money.”

Tim stops the shop beside the curb at the front of the building. He leaves the lights on as he and Harry remove their weapons from the back and meet the rest of their tactical team in the lobby.

“We can’t just unload them,” an officer says.

“The bomber wired the elevator doors and the hatch to trigger the bomb. So, he’s crazy, but he ain’t stupid,” Wade explains as he enters.

“Harry volunteers to examine the device,” Tim interjects. “He was on the bomb squad in the Army.”

Harry turns to glare at Tim as he says, “Right. And since Bradford also has Army experience, he’d like to provide a second opinion.”

“Fine,” Wade says. “You two check it out. Hey! Where’s the nearest access panel?”

“32nd floor,” a nearby employee answers on his way out. “It’s in the hall by the storage closet.”

“Report only. We’re in a holding pattern until we get word from your Commander back at the station. Confirm building evac and keep your radios active.”

“What about the other elevators?” Harry asks the employee.

“In an emergency, all passenger cars go to the nearest floor and shut down,” he says.

Tim frowns and moves his gun to his side. “Looks like we’re walking up the stairs.”

Harry nods before sprinting up the stairs behind Tim. Tim outpaces him but waits at the access panel for Harry to arrive with his small tool kit. He begins removing the nuts from the metal cover while Tim watches the hallway. Harry gives Tim a signal and Tim lifts the metal sheet. Light filters into the elevator shaft as Tim crawls through the opening and moves to the top of the elevator, where the bomb rests.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the L.A.P.D.,” Tim announces loudly. “There has been an elevator malfunction. Just relax and we’ll have you out of there as soon as possible.”

Harry looks up from the bomb and raises his hands in question.

“I didn’t lie,” Tim defends.

“I don’t recognize this work, Tim. Whoever our bomber is… he’s a pro and the work is solid,” Harry says.

“Bradford, Temple, hold position,” Wade radios. “We’re waiting to hear back from the bomber.”

Tim looks at his watch and muffles a curse. Their time is nearly out, and Tim continues to look at his watch rather than think about the lives in the metal death trap below his feet.

Harry sees the look in Tim’s eyes and decides to distract him. “Terrorist in a crowded room, five pounds of dynamite. He’s got a deadman’s stick. What do you do?”

“How close am I?” Tim asks, looking away from the elevator.

“Twenty feet.”

“Taser. He can’t let go with enough volts surging through him.”

“Alright, hot shot. Fifty feet?”

“Nice try.”

“Airport, then. Gunman with one hostage, using her for cover. He’s almost on a plane, you’re a hundred feet away.”

“Why is the hostage always a woman in these scenarios? Watch too many romcoms in the academy?”

“What do you do?” Harry repeats.

Tim kneels to examine the bomb once more and remembers his nightmare. Shoot him. He shakes his head before answering, “Shoot the hostage. Take her out of the equation, he can’t get to the plane, and I have a clear shot.”

“You are out of your mind, Bradford.”

“This is wrong,” Tim says suddenly. “He’s gonna blow it. How much do you think this elevator weighs?”

“Why? You wanna try to bench it?”

Tim doesn’t acknowledge the teasing as he adds, “We can do something about the hostages.”

“No shoot them, right?”

“Roof,” Tim reads as he points to a roof access sign. There’s a heavy-duty winch secured to the corner of the roof, and Tim runs to it as he says, “We don’t shoot them. Just take them out of the equation.”

Tim pulls the cable from the winch toward the elevator housing on the roof. He drops it in and watches it fall several feet before it catches.

“It’ll hold,” Tim tells Harry. “It’ll hold,” he repeats, quieter.

“Six minutes,” Harry alerts.

Tim throws his legs over the edge of the housing and lowers carefully onto the elevator cable. He hooks the winch hook to his tactical vest before moving down in the elevator shaft. Wade and the Metro team argue with the city council about releasing the money in the lobby, and no one has a clue that the shooter is listening to their radio frequencies. Without cell phones, they’re completely reliant on their radios to stay in touch with one another. Tim ignores his radio as he flips so he’s headfirst as he nears the trapped elevator.

“One more pop quiz,” Harry begins. “Psycho Sergeant Tim Bradford rigs an elevator to drop thirty stories. What do you do?”

Tim rolls his eyes before gesturing for Harry to hold the winch cable steady. A small pile of C4 waits beside his feet, but Tim ignores it as he secures the cable hook to the frame of the elevator.

“Why did I take this job?” Tim murmurs.

“Hey, a few more decades and you get a tiny pension and a free watch,” Harry answers.

“Hit the switch, Temple.”

Harry runs to the winch, hoping that the cables used to wash windows are strong enough to catch a free-falling elevator. He flips the switch, and the winch begins pulling in the cable. As the extra cable Tim pulled into the shaft begins unspooling, he moves up to the open access panel.

In the basement, a man missing a thumb presses a button on his handheld device. Instantaneously, a red light illuminates on the bomb. Tim sees it and throws himself through the access panel just before the bomb goes off. The passengers begin screaming, but the winch catches the falling elevator before it reaches the bottom of the shaft.

“What is happening, Bradford?” Wade asks, his concern evident over the radio.

“He’s early!” Harry yells as he returns from the roof.

“We have to get them out of the elevator. They can’t be lower than 28,” Tim exclaims.

When he and Harry meet the rest of their team on the 28th floor, they see that the elevator is stranded between floors. Only the floor is accessible from their current position, but there is no time to run up and down the stairs and look for the perfect access point. The elevator passengers lower to the floor and Tim and Harry pull people out one at a time. Tim pulls the last woman to safety seconds before the winch fails and the elevator plummets to the bottom of the shaft. After the sound of impact, Tim and Harry lean back against a wall and pant from the effort they exerted.

“Is your watch slow?” Tim asks.

“Nah. He jumped the gun,” Harry says with a shake of his head. “We had three minutes.”

“He blew more than the elevator. He blew his three million dollars. Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Tim sits up as he declares, “He’s here.”

“He could have blown that thing from anywhere, Tim.”

“He knew we were doing something, that’s why he acted early. That means he’s close.”

“He’s not gonna corner himself in the building. The building we evacuated.” Harry leans his head back against the wall and thinks for a moment before he adds, “He’d want to be here, yes, but stay mobile… The elevators.”

“All of the passenger cars stopped, and we checked them.”

“Did we check the freight elevators?”

Tim’s eyes widen in realization as he and Harry push themselves to stand and run to the freight elevator doors. Once Tim pries the door open, he slides down the cable and lands on top of a car. Harry reluctantly follows and freezes when a noise echoes inside. Tim doesn’t notice Harry behind him as he prepares to enter the elevator. Before he can, a shotgun is fired between them, and Harry falls into the elevator. The man inside knocks him out with the butt of the shotgun, and Tim waits until the elevator moves up to drop in through the roof panel. As he lands, he looks up and sees a shotgun barrel in his face.

“I don’t suppose anybody would pay me three million dollars just for you,” the nine-fingered bomber muses.

He pulls the trigger, but the gun is empty. Tim removes his Glock from his side and demands the bomber lower the shotgun. He does so but opens his coat to reveal dynamite strapped to his chest and a deadman switch detonator in his hand.

“Hotshot,” the man begins. Tim’s jaw clenches as he realizes the man listened to their conversations over the radio, but he can’t say anything before the bomber says, “Terrorist holding a police hostage. He’s got enough dynamite to blow the building in half. What do you do?”

“Fifty cops are waiting for us in the basement,” Tim states.

“Standard flanking, I’m aware.” He presses a button on a device wired into the elevator controls. “So, maybe we’ll get off early.”

The elevator stops at a parking level, and Tim watches as the bomber pulls Harry toward the door. His eyes open slowly, and Tim keeps his eyes on Harry rather than the man pulling him.

“Well, end of the line, Bradford. This day has been a real disappointment, I don’t mind saying.”

“Why? Because you couldn’t kill everyone?” Tim asks.

“There will come a time, hotshot, when you will wish you’d never met me.”

“I’m already there.”

“Look! I have your partner, I’m in charge! I drop this stick and they clean us up with a sponge!”

“Go ahead!” Harry yells. “Drop the stick!” “Shut up!” Tim demands.

Harry looks at Tim and mouths, “Shoot the hostage.”

Shoot him. Wrong target, Reaper. Tim takes a deep breath and shifts his arms to shoot Harry in the leg. He collapses onto the floor, and the bomber steps back in shock before running into the garage. Tim steps over Harry to shoot behind the feeling suspect. As the man reaches the door, he looks over his shoulder to smile at Tim before he disappears. Tim can’t check on Harry as the garage explodes and the force pushes him back against the wall. As Tim collides with the concrete behind him, everything goes dark. And everything changes.

After Harry’s unplanned and involuntary retirement party, Tim nearly oversleeps. His alarm pulls him from a dreamless sleep, and he winces at the sound before turning it off. Before he showers, he decides to go for a quick run to clear his head. Once he’s dressed and ready for the day, he drives to his favorite café. It’s one of the only places in Los Angeles where you can get a decent cup of coffee and breakfast without being surrounded by millennials working on their screenplays. Tim nods at another regular, Vince, as he enters.

“Hey, Tim. You look awful,” Bob, the owner of the café, says.

“Thanks, Bob,” Tim grumbles.

“Pretty boy party too hard?” Vince asks Tim.

“I- I don’t remember that well.”

“Wake up alone?”

“Always do.”

“Must be nice,” Bob interjects. “The last time I partied like that I worked up married.”

Tim shakes his head as he accepts his order and walks out behind Vince. He sets his coffee on top of his truck as he retrieves his keys from his pocket. Vince’s bus starts behind Tim and pulls away from the curb. Tim turns to wave at Vince before unlocking his door.

After it crosses the first intersection, the bus explodes. Tim stumbles as he looks toward the source of the noise. He runs to the bus as it rolls to a stop and fights against the flames to help Vince, but it’s too late. As Tim lays his hands on his knees in shock, he notices an abandoned cell phone lying on the sidewalk behind him. It rings continuously, and Tim doesn’t hesitate before he answers the phone.

“What do you think, Bradford?” the bomber from last month asks. “You think if you and Harry find all the driver’s teeth they’ll give you another medal?”

“Where are you?” Tim demands.

“Twenty-second delay. I’m in the air duct when the garage blows. Did you think I wouldn’t come prepared? I spent two years on the elevator job. Two years. I invested myself in it. You couldn’t understand the commitment I have. A child, Tim, you’re a child. You ruin a man’s life’s work and then think you can walk away. You’ve got blinders on, but I got your attention now. Didn’t I, Tim?”

“Why didn’t you just come after me?”

“This is about money – 3.7 million. Not you and your ego. None of it had to happen, Tim, and I hope you realize that. How long do you think the driver’s wife and kids will wait before they get worried tonight?”

“When I find you, I will kill you,” Tim threatens.

“There’s a bomb on a bus, hotshot. Once the bus hits fifty miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If the bus drops below fifty, it blows up. What do you do?”

Tim doesn’t answer but looks around for any sign of the suspect.

“What do you do?” he repeats.

“I’d want to know what bus it was,” Tim answers. He’s accepted the challenge and knows that it has to end with a death: either his or the bomber’s.

“You think I’m going to tell you that, Tim?”

“Yes.”

“Very good.” The man sounds happy, and Tim presses a hand against a nearby wall to control his anger. “Now there are rules, Tim; we have to do this right. No one gets off the bus. One passenger leaves, I will detonate it. Now, if I don’t get my money by 11 a.m., there’s also a timer.”

Tim looks at his watch: 8:05 a.m. “I can’t pull that money in time-“

“Focus, Tim! Your concern is the bus. Don’t call, the radios are jammed. Number 2525, running downtown from Venice. At the corner of Lincoln and Pico…”

Tim drops the cell phone and runs to his car to follow the bus. The lives on that bus are in his hands, and he doesn’t plan to shoot any hostages today.

“Please stop! Sam!” you yell as you chase your bus.

You don’t want to ride the bus, but since your most recent speeding ticket, it is your only mode of transportation. In the few weeks since your license was suspended, you’ve gotten to know the driver, Sam, and some of the regular passengers. You hope that camaraderie is enough to convince Sam to stop for you. The brakes on the bus squeal as it stops, and the door opens.

“This look like a stop to you?” Sam asks.

“You are an amazing man, Sam,” you say as you walk onto the bus. “The men in books and songs have nothing on you.”

You swipe your bus card and take a seat before saying hello to Ortiz, a regular passenger. Comfortable in your seat, and glad that none of the passengers are in a talkative mood this early on a weekday, you relax and hope to get your car back soon.

Tim drives his truck in and out of traffic, onto the shoulder, and into the emergency lane as he tries to catch up with bus 2525. Other drivers honk their horns, flip him off, and yell insults through open windows, but Tim doesn’t notice or care. If he can stop the driver before it reaches 50, then the bomb will never activate. The only danger would be the man with the detonator.

You look up as Sam slows for a traffic jam.

“Can’t you just drive over them?” you ask with a smile.

“Is it always like this?” a man asks from the back of the bus. “It’s my first time here, and it took me three hours just to get out of the airport.”

“Yep,” you answer. “It’s usually worse.”

“That’s why I never drive,” the woman behind you interjects. “I’d never have a car in this city.”

“I have a car. I miss my car,” you lament.

“In the shop?” the tourist asks.

“Something like that. Sam, seriously, the bus is huge, just run them over,” you say again.

When Tim sees the bus has stopped because of a stalled car ahead, he sighs before he pulls onto the shoulder. He exits his truck and runs toward the bus, but the accident clears faster than he expected, and begins moving before he reaches the door. Hitting his fist against the side, Tim yells for the driver to stop.

“Can’t blame him for wanting to get on the bus,” you mutter as you watch him slap an open palm against the door.

“Get off the doors, man! Wait for the next one,” Sam yells before he speeds up.

Tim removes his badge from his pocket a moment too late. He continues chasing the bus, and you look down at your phone as the other passengers watch the unknown man run down the freeway.

Nearly half a mile from his truck and with no other option, Tim stops and waits at the edge of the road. He sees a speeding sports car approaching, and he moves into the middle of its lane and raises his badge.

“Stop!” Tim yells over the traffic.

The young man driving the car slams on his brakes to avoid hitting Tim. Several cars behind him blow their horns, and he raises to yell over the convertible’s windshield.

“What the-“

“L.A.P.D.,” Tim interrupts. “Get out of the car.”

“This is my car! It ain’t stolen and you have no right!” the driver argues.

Tim pulls his gun from its holster and says, “It’s stolen now. Move over.”

The man nods quickly before he jumps over the console and settles into the passenger seat. Tim sits behind the wheel and swerves into another lane as he ignores the owner’s pleas not to scratch the car. Tim drives the expensive, sporty convertible exactly as he had driven his truck, and the man in the passenger seat covers his eyes in fear for his car more than his life. As Tim steers the car beside the bus, he lays on the horn. Sam looks over and immediately recognizes him, and his eyes widen to prove it.

“I’m a cop!” Tim yells.

Sam lowers the window and raises his voice to ask, “What?”

“L-A-P-D!” Tim spells slowly. “There’s a bomb on your bus.”

“There’s a what?” Tim’s passenger exclaims.

“I can’t hear you,” Sam says.

“There’s a bomb on the bus!” Tim repeats.

Sam shakes his head, and Tim looks at the convertible’s speedometer. He’s over 50, so the bus must be, too.

“Drive!” Tim yells as he gestures for the bus to keep moving. “FIFTY! STAY ABOVE FIFTY!”

Sam nods rapidly and trembles a bit as he holds the speed steady. The commotion draws your attention, and you turn in your seat to watch the man who desperately needs a ride or is crazy.

“Call the Mid-Wilshire division station,” Tim says as he hands his phone to the man beside him. “Ask for Detective Angela Lopez.”

“Okay, okay.” The man speaks into the phone briefly before passing it back to Tim.

“Angela,” Tim says.

“Why are you calling me on your day off?” she asks. “Harry’s here, if you’re looking for him.”

“He’s alive.”

“Who?”

“The bomber! He’s back.”

“Harry!” Angela calls.

“Tim, did he hit the bus in Venice?” Harry asks as he approaches Angela’s desk.

“Temple,” Wade interrupts. “We just got a ransom demand from your dead terrorist. Says he rigged a city bus. Where’s Tim?”

“Where do you think?” Harry replies.

Tim ends the call and navigates around the back of the bus to drive alongside the door. Traffic is increasing with the morning rush, and he doesn’t want to risk getting stuck in another slowdown. He honks to get Sam’s attention, and gestures for him to open the door.

“Drive straight,” Tim directs him. “Stay in this lane.”

Sam agrees before Tim speeds up to get ahead of the bus. He opens the driver-side door and hits the brakes, so the bus rips the door off the car. Tim presses the accelerator again to catch up with the bus as he is yelled at by the owner of the car.

“Take the wheel!” Tim says.

Tim waits until the car’s owner moves back into the driver’s seat to jump into the open bus door and pull himself up the stairs.

When the bus rips the door off a convertible, you finally look up. The man driving the car beside the bus is attractive, but you’re a little concerned for his mental well-being. Sam seems willing to help him, and you don’t understand why. When he jumps from the car and onto the bus, you stand and grip the bar above your head. He locks eyes with you before holding up a police badge.

“Everyone, I’m Sergeant Tim Bradford, L.A.P.D. We’ve got a slight… situation on the bus,” he explains.

“Are you crazy?” you ask.

“Ma'am, if you’ll please sit down, we can deal with this in an orderly-“

“But what are you-“

“Ma’am.”

His tone and the look in his eyes convinces you, so you sit down as Tim walks toward the back of the bus and looks at the other passengers. You watch him move and wonder if he’s truly a cop or just insane.

“Just stay in your seats and remain quiet,” Tim says. “Then we’ll be able to defuse the, uh, the problem.”

A passenger you’ve spoken to before, Jay, leaps from his seat and points a gun at Tim.

“Jay!” you yell worriedly.

“Get away from me!” Jay demands.

Tim pulls his gun and matches Jay’s stance. Two women at the back of the bus scream, and you look between Tim and Jay from your seat.

“I don’t know you, I’m not here for you. Let’s not do this,” Tim says calmly.

“Stop the bus, Sam,” Jay calls.

“He can’t. Look, I’m going to put my gun away.” Tim holsters it slowly and raises his hands to show they’re empty. “I don’t care about what you did. It’s over. I’m not a cop right now. See? We’re just two guys on the bus.”

Tim tosses his badge to the floor beside your feet, and you look at it before raising your eyes to Jay again. You understand why he calmed down so quickly; Tim Bradford has a soothing voice, and his presence is assertive but caring. More importantly, you can relax now, because his badge looks real. Jay’s hands begin to lower, but your fellow passenger Ortiz jumps onto his back before Jay puts it away.

Tim rushes forward as Ortiz tries to pull the gun from Jay. A shot goes off, and everyone ducks before a second shot fires.

“Sam!” someone screams.

You turn toward the front of the bus before moving to help Sam. Tim disarms Jay with minimal effort while another woman joins your side.

“Move him,” you say.

“He’s bleeding,” the woman argues.

“We have to stop the bus!”

At your words, Tim spins quickly to face you.

“No!” he yells. “Stay above fifty.”

“Sam is wounded,” you begin.

“You slow down, and this bus will explode!”

Tim holds your eyes and nods slowly. He’s not kidding, you realize. Turning quickly, you look at the speedometer, which falls to 51. While Sam is still in the seat, you push your foot onto the gas pedal and watch the line rise above fifty.

Tim handcuffs Jay to one of the poles before he explains, “There is a bomb on this bus. If we slow down, it will blow. If anyone tries to get off, it will blow.”

The women on the bus surround Sam and help him get comfortable as they try to slow the bleeding. As they pull Sam from the driver’s seat, you slide into position and steer into another lane to keep the speed over 50.

“We’re only gonna make it through this if everyone stays calm, sits down, and listens to me,” Tim adds.

You don’t hear everything he says, with your complete focus on the road ahead and the speedometer on the dash. Your knuckles are white because of your grip on the wheel, and you don’t hear Tim approach behind you. He lays a hand on the headrest behind you and leans down.

“This is great. A bomb on wheels,” you muse sarcastically.

“Can you handle this bus, ma’am?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just like driving a big Toyota, right?”

“Can you handle it?”

“I’m fine. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?”

Tim nods and stands to his full height. He watches you take a deep breath before turning to the rest of the passengers.

“Everyone, I need your cell phones,” Tim announces.

“No way, man!” the tourist yells.

“There is a terrorist out there with a bomb, and I don’t need any of you live streaming or interfering with the radio signal he could be using to detonate a bomb. So, I will only say this one more time. Phones - and anything else with a cellular connection – now.”

The passengers nod and offer all of their cellular devices. Tim accepts an empty bag from a woman beside Sam and places everyone’s belongings inside. He returns to your side and removes his phone from his pocket.

“Do you have anyone you need to call?” Tim asks softly.

“No. I- I don’t want to think like that,” you answer.

“We don’t have to. Everything’s going to be okay. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

You nod and Tim lays a kind hand on your shoulder to add, “But I need your phone.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s- uh- it’s in my back pocket. Right side.”

Tim’s hand brushes your lower back as he pulls the phone from your pocket. He apologizes, though you can’t imagine why. You’ve only known Tim Bradford for a few minutes, but his words mean something, and you can only hope he keeps the promises he’s making.

“You’re a cop, right?” you ask.

“That’s right. Metro Sergeant,” Tim says. “But you can call me Tim if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Uh, no. Thanks, and you can stop calling me ‘ma’am’ while we’re at it. I just- I should probably tell you that I’m taking the bus because my driver’s license was suspended.”

“What for?”

“Speeding.”

Tim shakes his head and hides his smile before calling the station again. He leans forward, but keeps his hand beside you, to look at the news chopper circling above the bus.

“Lopez, it’s me. I took phones from all the passengers. Where do we start?” Tim asks.

“Alright. Harry and Wade are with me,” Angela replies.

“Check the speedometer, Bradford,” Harry says. “Has it been messed with? Any wires or anything that don’t belong?”

“Sorry,” Tim whispers as he leans in front of you to check the dash area. “No, it’s clean.”

“Then it’s gotta be under the bus. Probably rigged to one of the axles.”

“I can’t get under the bus to check right now. The whole you stop, you die thing. Remember?”

Tim doesn’t sound like he’s kidding; in fact, he sounds grumpier than when he first boarded, but his comment makes you laugh. He pats the back of your seat before turning.

“Sergeant Bradford,” Sam calls weakly. Tim kneels beside him to listen, and Sam stutters, “There’s a- an access panel… in the fl-floor.”

“Hold on, Angela,” Tim says into the phone.

He unscrews the panel and pulls it aside. The asphalt moves quickly under the bus, and Tim looks around before handing his phone to a passenger. You look up in the mirror above you to watch Tim briefly before returning your attention to the road.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Stephen. I’m a tourist,” Stephen introduces.

“Welcome to the City of Angels. Hold my phone, please. Tell my partner what I see.”

Stephen nods and raises the phone to his ear as Tim moves so he can see under the bus. He takes a deep breath; Tim knows a bit about bombs from his time in the Army, but it’s Harry’s expertise.

“Okay, there’s a bundle here,” Tim yells over the wind. “Pretty big.”

“There’s a pretty big bundle,” Stephen relays.

“Brass fittings. I think I can reach the circuit wire.”

“He can reach the circuit wire- No, don’t do that, Sergeant Bradford. It can be a decoy, he says. What else?”

“Hold on,” Tim murmurs before moving further underneath the bus. He sees the extent of the bomb and pulls himself back up to take the phone. “Angela, Harry, there’s enough C4 on this bus to take out everyone on the highway. There’s a wristwatch: gold band, cheap.”

You look back at Tim quickly before inhaling sharply. “Sergeant,” you call.

“What do you think, Harry?” Tim asks.

“Bradford!” you yell into the bus speaker.

Tim moves to your side and places a hand on the dash to lean forward. His face is right beside yours, and you wish you were nervous because of him and not the bomb underneath you.

“Everybody’s stopping,” you point out. “What do I do?”

“Get on the shoulder.”

“This is an exit!”

Tim flinches as you sideswipe several cars.

“Tim!”

“Off. Get off!” Tim yells.

You nearly miss the ramp and pull the wheel to the right to merge onto another road. Honking the horn and yelling for people to get out of the way, you take a deep breath. At least you’re off the freeway. Tim tells you to keep driving as he answers his phone again.

“Where?” he asks. “Got it.”

“Do I stay here?” you inquire.

“Yes. Just straight on this, they’re trying to clear the roads for us.”

“I’m never getting my license back, am I?” you grumble.

“The police commissioner will buy you a car if you ask,” Tim says quietly. “You’re doing well, okay? Don’t worry about anything else.”

You nod and return both hands to the wheel. Tim removes the flannel shirt he’s been wearing, leaving him in a white t-shirt, and drapes it over the back of your seat. Your eyes catch on his biceps before you chide yourself for getting distracted.

One of the phones in the bag rings, and Tim yells, “Who didn’t turn their phone off?”

No one is willing to admit their fault or doesn’t want to risk dealing with Tim’s wrath and ending up like Jay where he sits on the floor. Tim digs through the bag and pulls the ringing phone out. The number is one he recognizes, but he hesitates before answering.

“Taking their phones was smart,” the bomber says as the line connects. “2525… nice passengers, aren’t they? See, that’s the beauty of being in this day and age. I know everything about everyone on that bus. So, if you or your little girlfriend, or even the tourist from Kalamazoo try to double-cross me…”

“The bus explodes,” Tim interjects. “I’m aware.”

“What’s with the attitude, Tim? You’re seeing one of the prettiest places in the world, riding a bus for free… Oh, no, I know. Can’t shoot a hostage that makes that cold heart beat again, huh?”

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want! 3.7 million dollars. I get the money, and then we can both get what we want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know what you don’t want. Tell your girlfriend to keep her eyes on the road.”

The call ends and Tim raises the cell phone in his hands. “He knows who is on this bus.”

“How?” Ortiz asks.

“Your bus passes, your phones, both, maybe. Look, one of the conditions of our survival is that no one gets off the bus. If he knows who you are, then we are even more obligated to keep that promise.”

“You didn’t even try to get us off the bus!” Jay accuses.

“Because he would have blown it. I understand what you are feeling, but I need you to trust me, trust the L.A.P.D., and work with me on this.”

“Tim is this your team?” you ask over your shoulder.

A police car pulls into the lane in front of you as several more flank the sides of the bus. The road clears around them, but more news choppers are joining the airspace above you.

Tim nods and looks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. What happens now, though?”

“My teammates are working on it. We’ve got gas and open road, so keep driving.”

“Is it- can I be okay and really nervous at the same time?”

“I’d be more concerned if you weren’t nervous.”

“You don’t look nervous.”

“My friend Angela says I never look anything; thinks I can’t show emotion because I can’t feel them.”

“Is it true?”

Tim looks at you and lowers to squat beside you. “No, it’s not.”

“How’s Sam?”

“The driver? He’s gonna be alright. Thanks to you.”

Someone calls for Tim, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly as he stands. You glance at him in the mirror as he returns to the access panel. A police helicopter drops to fly above you, and you wonder what the news stations and police officers know or think about the situation. The bus begins losing speed as you steer around a curve, and when you try to speed up again, you realize something is wrong.

Back at the station, Harry and Angela work with Wade and a bomb expert to search for a way to disarm the bomb and for their suspect. Harry has a description of the bomber, but there’s only so much they can learn about the bomb without seeing it.

“Sergeant Bradford!” you cry as you press the gas again.

“What?” Tim asks with wide eyes. You were calling him Tim, and your sudden change of formality and tone concern him.

“The gas pedal’s stuck.”

“What else can go wrong?” Tim asks under his breath. “Move your foot.”

You pull your foot from the pedal and steer as Tim presses his leg against yours to slam his foot down against the pedal. It doesn’t move, and the speedometer dips closer to fifty. Tim moves his hands to cover yours on the steering wheel and moves his leg between yours to try a new angle. You’re close to him, but the fear of dying keeps you from enjoying it in any way. He pushes the pedal again and his shoulders drop.

“There,” he announces as he steps back.

You take the wheel back and press the accelerator down again. The bus gains speed and you catch up to the police car before you.

“Lopez, talk to me,” Tim greets as he answers his phone again.

“You’ve got a hard left coming up,” Angela says. “Really hard.”

“Hard left up ahead,” Tim tells you.

“We’ll tip!” you argue.

“Who is that? Your driver?” Angela inquires.

“We’re not going to tip,” Tim says.

“Yes, we are!”

The curve in the road comes into view, and Tim suddenly agrees, “We’re going to tip.”

He leaves your side to move everyone onto the right side of the bus. The weight distribution keeps the bus from tipping, but as Tim helps you pull the wheel as hard as possible to make the turn, you forget why you were concerned. His presence is the only thing keeping you calm, and you wish he could just sit beside you the whole time.

“Angela, get those news crews off our tail!” he yells over the cheers of the passengers.

You look in the mirror beside you. The news crews must have arrived recently because you didn’t notice them before.

“On it. Harry’s working with the bomb squad. Keep it fifty,” Angela responds.

“Don’t try to make that a thing, Lopez,” Tim says before he ends the call.

“Hey, who’s doing this?” you ask Tim.

“The bomber? He’s just a guy who’s angry with me for foiling his last bombing attempt,” Tim explains.

“So, he’s trying again? Using you to get whatever it is he wants?”

“More or less.”

“What if you stop him again?”

“We do this again tomorrow. Until one of us dies trying.”

“That won’t work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m not available to drive tomorrow.”

Tim nods but doesn’t reply before a flatbed truck merges into the lane beside the door. His Metro captain and two officers are on the back, and the driver blows the horn to get his attention. Tim opens the door and moves out of the door to talk to them. You can’t hear much but suspect that they want to get the hostages off the bus, which Tim already said was impossible. Your sudden and unbending trust in him should probably concern you, but you will do anything and everything he tells you, even if that means staying on a bus with a bomb on it.

“He called the station looking for you,” an officer announces.

“Why? He has my cell,” Tim says.

“Maybe it died.”

“Just give him my number again! And keep looking; find this guy so we can move these people.”

Tim steps onto the main platform again and closes the door.

“Are they going to help us?” the woman holding Sam’s head up asks.

“Sure, they will. They’re the police,” someone jokes.

Another phone rings in the bag, and Tim pulls your phone out this time. He hadn’t thought to turn yours off because he was concerned about you and wanted to make sure you could drive like the bus needed to be driven.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Tim, you know I trust you. But it looks to me like you’re trying to move passengers off the bus,” the bomber says.

“I need one as an act of faith,” Tim argues. “The driver has been shot.”

“You shot another hostage?”

“He’s dying! If you want your money, show a little charity.”

The line is quiet for a moment before the bomber says, “Fine. You can try to get the driver off. I have more people to kill. Tell your girlfriend behind the wheel not to slow down or he won’t get a chance to bleed out.”

“We’re getting the driver off,” Tim announces after returning your phone to the bag. “Just him for now.”

Ortiz moves out of the seat to help Tim move Sam to the door and onto the truck.

“Get as close as you can,” Tim says. “A little closer.”

The side of the bus hits the truck and swerves, and you rush to apologize.

“It’s okay.” Tim says your name, and you know that he means what he says. “Perfect! Hold it steady!”

You sigh as Tim walks past you again after getting Sam to safety, but then you see a woman walking toward the door. The officers on the truck reach out to help her, unaware of what will happen if she steps off the bus.

“No!” you yell.

“I have to,” she responds.

“No! Don’t get off! Stop!”

An explosion echoes through the bus as the steps fall out and go underneath the bus. The female passenger disappears after she falls with the debris, and you look away quickly as Tim falls forward trying to catch her.

“You’ve got to get those choppers out of here!” Tim yells to his captain. “He’s watching!”

The bus is silent as Tim stands up and waits beside you. With your eyes on the road, he doesn’t see the tear that leaks out. When the passengers start arguing behind you, your grip on the wheel tightens.

“Hey!” Tim calls as he turns to face them. They silence, and he moves his attention to you. “How are you doing?”

Tim steps forward, sees the tears covering your face, and squats with an arm behind you. “What can I do?”

His voice is softer than when he yelled at the men behind you, and you can’t lie to him.

“I thought that was the bomb. When I heard it… I thought everything was over. But then I saw her fall under the bus, and-“

“You’re glad you’re still alive,” Tim finishes.

“I’m so sorry. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No. It doesn’t mean you don’t care. We’re still alive, and we’re all allowed to be thankful for that. The guy who put us here? He’s a terrible person. Don’t think that you’re a bad person. You’re not.”

“Tim,” you say before pointing to his Captain, who is waving for his attention.

“There’s a gap in the freeway. It’s big. We have to get these people off, Tim,” he says.

“You know I can’t, Captain.”

“Tim?” you ask as he walks past you. “What’d he say?”

“There’s a gap in the road,” Tim tells everyone.

“How big is a gap?” Ortiz asks.

“50 feet, a couple of miles ahead,” Tim says.

“Tim?” you repeat. “What if I shift down and just keep the engine revving?”

“He thought of that… Floor it.”

“What?”

“There’s an interchange, maybe there’s an incline. Just floor it.”

“Okay.”

“Everyone keep your heads down.”

The police car leading you falls off the side, but you continue driving toward the unfinished overpass. The needle on the speedometer nears 70, and Tim waits beside you. As you approach the end, Tim yells for everyone to hold on. He puts his arms around you and pulls your head down with his. You feel weightless for a moment, grounded only by his arms around you before the bus collides with the other side of the interchange. Looking up over Tim’s arm, you see more road ahead and press the gas again, so you don’t slow down.

Your forehead begins to burn and hurt, and you press your palm against your temple as the people behind you cheer. Tim checks on everyone before returning to your side, and he immediately realizes that you’re in pain. He moves your hand and presses the bottom of his shirt to your head. It’s stained with blood when he pulls his hand away, and you grimace at the idea of a wound on your head.

“Get off here!” Tim calls suddenly.

“Yes! Get off!”

You obey and soon enter the Los Angeles International Airport. Tim gives you directions to an emergency runway and explains that you can simply drive here. Without traffic or road closures, the only concern is staying above fifty.

Being in restricted air space is also a bonus, and you notice that the news helicopters are hovering at a distance. Tim seemed concerned about the presence of news cameras, so maybe the location will also keep the bomber from knowing exactly what is happening.

“Yeah?” Tim asks as he answers his phone.

“The airport. Well done. You had some close calls, but you did well, Tim,” the bomber says.

“What do you want?”

“My money. Help me get it before it’s too late, will you? The negotiators think I’m doing this for fun?”

“Are you not?”

“Oh, now you think you know me too?”

“I know you want money you didn’t earn. More than you deserve.”

“I did earn it! I got a medal, too, you know.”

“Let me off. If you want my help, I need to explain that you’re not bluffing. Just me.”

“Alright. But you have to come back. I can see everything; remember that.”

Tim ends the call and slides his phone back in his pocket.

“There’s a plan now?” you ask.

“Maybe. He’s letting me off,” Tim says.

“Hey, don’t forget about us,” you call as he steps off the bus and onto an SUV. “He’ll be back,” you promise the others.

While you circle the airport runways, Tim works with the other officers he told you about to find a way to disarm the bomb. Ortiz walks to your side and looks out at the airport.

“Ortiz?” you ask.

“He’s not coming back, I’m telling you,” he says.

“He didn’t have to get on in the first place. Hey, get behind the yellow line.”

Ortiz looks down and takes on short step back. “You let the cop up here.”

“What is that?” Stephen asks as he joins Ortiz.

“I have no idea,” you answer as you look at Tim standing on the back of a truck covered in machinery. It pulls over in front of you, and Tim lowers onto a cart attached to a winch, and you mutter, “I was right. He is insane.”

“How’d they get that so fast?” Stephen asks under his breath.

You focus more on driving in a straight line as Tim disappears under the front of the bus. He looks up at you just before he disappears, and you nod once. Knowing that he’s under the bus makes you more nervous to drive than you have been at any other point today. Driving in a straight line at the airport is more stressful because Tim is underneath a moving vehicle and touching a bomb. You know he has friends and colleagues who are helping him, but you feel more than a need to survive when you look at Sergeant Tim Bradford.

The winch on the truck releases suddenly, and the cable unfurls.

“Check and see if he came out the back!” you demand. “Can you see him?”

“He’s not back here!” Ortiz calls.

“Look under the bus! Back by the tires!”

“I don’t see him.”

The winch cable snaps and the back tire bounces over something. You press a hand over your mouth in shock, and Ortiz runs to the back access panel.

“Please tell me he’s alright!” you yell. “Do you see him?”

“I see him!” Ortiz responds. “He’s alright!”

You look back and forth between the empty runway and the back of the bus. Ortiz and Stephen pull Tim up onto the bus, and you can’t decide whether to be angry or relieved with him. Tim thanks Ortiz before walking to your side.

“How are you?” he asks.

“You scared me!” you accuse. You slap his vest to express your displeasure before hissing in pain. “What’s that smell?”

“Gas. We have a new leak.” “You caused a leak?”

“It was that or get run over. You can see the difficulty I had choosing.”

“Don’t try to be funny right now. I thought I killed you.”

“I’ll ask my captain to get a fuel truck.”

“Will it work?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not exactly comforting, you know that?”

“You just hit me and now you want comfort?”

You sigh and look at him again before saying, “Thank you, Tim.”

“Just doing my job… ma’am.”

Tim stays beside you while Harry and a S.W.A.T. team infiltrate the house listed on the bomber’s records. He was surprised by how quickly they found his identification, but now that they have the element of surprise, he hopes that this game is almost over.

When he gets another call, you can only see the anger in his eyes as he listens to the person on the other end. The bomber tells Tim that Harry and the S.W.A.T. team walked right into his trap. You watch him and can only wonder what is making him so mad. His life is in danger, but something is capable of pushing him even further, it seems.

“I’m going to rip your spine out. If you know as much as you think you do, you know I can,” Tim threatens lowly.

“Oh, I do, Reaper. That’s why you should do what you’re told. You and I both know you can’t do it without Harry and his ability to follow a cheap watch, anyway. Get me my money and it’s over. Otherwise, you, lumberjack-ie, and the others are dead. Got that?”

“Yeah,” Tim says after a moment. “Howie.”

The bomber hesitates at the mention of his real name but doesn’t let it stop him. Tim listens to Howard Payne’s demands before ending the call. Tim turns around and kicks where the stairs used to be before pulling against the handrail in his anger. You try to get his attention over his yelling, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Tim! Please!” you try again. “I can’t do this without you. Please.”

Tim slows his movements before gripping the rail beside you. His jaw is clenched as he looks at you, but your pleas soften his eyes.

“Please stay with me,” you whisper.

“We’re going to die,” he says.

“No. You got us this far, right?”

Tim leans against the dash beside you and looks at you. His shirt is still behind you. Lumberjack-ie. Your little girlfriend.

“Lumberjacks wear flannel, right?” Tim asks.

“Uh, yeah. As far as I know,” you answer. “Why?”

“He can see you.”

“What?”

“Keep looking straight ahead.”

You turn your face to the windshield and watch the runway as Tim examines the top of the bus. He sees the camera at the top of the windshield and shakes his head.

“He said, ‘your girlfriend behind the wheel’ and ‘lumberjack-ie’. I didn’t even realize. There’s a camera in your face. He can see the whole bus.”

“He can see me, but can he hear me?” you ask.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Bus cameras can’t be very high-tech, Tim. Can’t your people get it on a loop or something?”

“You’re brilliant,” Tim murmurs before pushing himself off the dash and to his feet. “Guys, there’s a camera over my left shoulder. I need everyone to sit still. No big movements, no talking, just look concerned and sit still.”

He calls his captain and asks for someone to approach the news trucks at the fence to end the live broadcasts and use their equipment to make a video loop. His captain agrees and texts Tim with an update that the reporters are cooperating.

“Remember, stay relatively still. Just look scared,” Tim reminds everyone.

“That won’t be hard,” Ortiz grumbles.

Tim leans beside you while the video is being recorded. You drive in silence for a minute before noticing the blinking red light on the dash.

“Tim,” you whisper. “Look.”

“Cap, roll the tape. We need fuel,” Tim says into his phone.

“We only have a minute recorded. That won’t convince him, we need more footage” Wade argues.

“No time. Get these people off before this bus runs out of gas.”

“Fuel tanker is running behind. Driver said big rigs need radio signals, and they’re still jammed. Crazy not stupid, right?”

“Right.”

“Now what?” you ask Tim. “Are you tired of that question yet?”

“I’d like an answer to it,” he replies. “Get alongside this bus, okay?”

You nod and drive steadily alongside an LAX passenger bus. Tim’s team lays a wooden board between the bus doors and helps people cross to safety. You listen to Tim encourage the passengers across and are glad he was the cop who got on the bus today. The rear tire blows out suddenly, and you pull the steering wheel back to the middle and yell for Tim to come help.

Tim falls on his way back to the front of the bus, but when he reaches you, he moves his arms across you to pull the wheel.

“Use this to hold down the gas pedal,” he says.

You take the device from his hand and lower it into place. Tim steps back to tie the steering wheel to the floor of the bus, and you steer to keep the bus straight while he works. The moment it’s secure, he pulls you to your feet and tells you to get on the metal access panel.

“I can’t do this,” you argue.

Tim raises his hands to either side of your neck and brushes his thumbs along your skin as he promises, “Yes, you can. I’m right here with you.”

You swallow nervously and nod before sitting on your escape route, a thin piece of metal that Tim moved with no problem. Tim moves to lay over you, and he wraps an arm around your waist as you hide your face against his shoulder.

“I got you,” he promises once more.

The bus turns and the access panel cover falls out of the bottom. You clutch Tim tightly as the metal door slides across the runway and into a nearby patch of dirt. He sits up and watches the bus slow as it nears a plane but doesn’t let go of you. Just before the bomb detonates, Tim pulls you down again and lays over you to protect you from any debris. Sirens echo in the distance, and you wrap your arms around Tim’s back.

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

“No,” you answer, your first honest answer of the day. “Oh, I hate the airport.”

Tim moves to your side but keeps an arm around your shoulder as he looks into your eyes.

“You can’t get mushy on me. You can’t show emotion, remember?” you tease.

“I think I might be able to after all.”

“Relationships that start like this never last. It’s just the high-stress, adrenaline pumping, all that.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe we can change that.”

“Uh, I think your friends are here.”

Tim looks up but doesn’t move as Angela and Wade exit a police car and run toward him.

“I was worried about you,” Angela says. “And here you are.”

“I’m sorry about Harry,” Tim offers. “I wish we could have changed it.”

“You good?” Wade asks. “’Cause I might be a nice guy and let you take the rest of the day off.”

“And stop worrying about what we could have done differently. You saved a lot of lives today, Timothy,” Angela adds.

“A day off sounds like a good deal,” you murmur.

Tim shakes his head before introducing you to Detective Angela Lopez and Sergeant Wade Grey. When he finally stands and sees the scrapes and gashes littering your skin, he forces you to let a paramedic treat you. Tim follows you to the ambulance but hangs back to talk to Angela. He’s lost a partner before, too, and knows what it’s like.

“I’m sorry for bringing everyone into this. Howard could have just come for me,” Tim concludes.

“I appreciate everything,” Angela responds. “But, you’re going to the hospital, too. Is that Chen?”

Tim turns quickly and sees Lucy running toward the police cruiser parked behind the ambulance.

“Sergeant Grey!” she yells. “We’ve got Payne on the line, and he wants to know when he’s getting his money. Whoa, Tim, are you alright?”

“He doesn’t know,” Tim says. “He doesn’t know the bus exploded.”

“Tell him thirty minutes,” Wade alerts all the nearby officers.

“Stay in the ambulance,” Tim tells you.

“But I-“

“Ma’am, stay in the ambulance.”

You nod and climb into the ambulance after refusing help from the paramedics. They continue bandaging a cut on your leg as Tim climbs in.

“I need to make a quick stop on the way to the hospital,” he tells the driver.

“Where?” she asks.

“The drop spot. Pershing Square.”

The driver reluctantly agrees, and you watch Tim as she drives. He demands you stay in the ambulance until he returns, and you agree but don’t mean it. You’ve been beside Tim for most of the morning, and you neither remember how to be away from him nor do you want to. You stand on the sidewalk beside the ambulance and watch people move around you. It’s another normal day for them, but your life will never be the same after today.

“Miss, you can’t stand here, you need to move back,” an older officer says as he grabs your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m waiting for Tim-“

“Tim Bradford, yes. He asked that I move you out of harm’s way.”

“But he told me to stay here.”

His hold on your shoulders tightens as he says, “And I’m telling you to move.”

“Payne is late,” Angela complains.

“He’s not late,” Tim says. “He’s never late.”

“Two hundred cops are watching that sculpture, plus a tracker in the bag. He hasn’t been here,” Wade explains.

“Turn on the tracker,” Tim requests.

“What for?”

“Just do it!”

Wade presses a button on the laptop before him, and the blinking light of the tracker travels across the screen.

“He’s got the money,” Angela says.

Tim runs out of their hiding spot and to the drop spot. He pushes the art installation over and kicks it when he sees the opening in the sidewalk beneath it. As he drops into the defunct subway system, he sees someone walking farther into the tunnel and pulls his gun.

“L.A.P.D. Freeze!” he yells.

The person stops, and he aims at their head before saying, “Pop quiz. Someone has a clear shot at your head. What do you do?... Turn around.”

“If you don’t do it, I’ll kill Tim Bradford,” Howard Payne threatens as he secures a vest covered in dynamite around your chest. “What are you going to do?”

“Wait- wait for him to come in and walk away. Then I listen to you,” you answer shakily.

“Perfect. Maybe you two can have your happily ever after all. You say one word that I don’t like and you’re both dead.”

Howard disappears down the subway, and you bite your bottom lip to refrain from crying or screaming for help. Tim may shoot you, no questions asked, but at least he will be safe. When you hear something crash above you and sunlight infiltrates the dark staircase before you, you take a deep breath and begin walking away.

Tim’s voice doesn’t carry the same comforting words or soothing lilt as in the bus, but you still recognize it and want to hear it as he yells at you.

“Turn around!” he demands.

You turn slowly and can see the moment Tim realizes he’s pointing his gun at you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

The apology echoes off the concrete walls as Tim lowers his weapon. You don’t see or hear him, but you can feel the change when Howard appears behind you.

“Be prepared!” Howard says as he walks up the stairs behind you and raises the detonator, a deadman’s switch. “What are you gonna do, Tim? I don’t think you can shoot this hostage.”

“Let her go,” Tim demands as he points his gun at Howard.

“I don’t think I’m going to do that. Move the money,” he tells you.

You transfer the money from the L.A.P.D. bags and into Howard’s duffel bag as Tim yells at him to let you go.

“You don’t need her!” Tim adds.

“I will let go,” Howard threatens as he moves the detonator switch. “You don’t get it, Tim. Do you know what a bomb that doesn’t explode is? It’s the cheap, gold watch they gave me after I lost a finger and a life to my country.”

“You’re crazy.”

You push yourself against the wall as you listen to their exchange, but you keep your eyes on Tim rather than the bomb just below your chin. Howard demands you take his money and enter another part of the tunnel system and you know that you’re going to obey because he’ll kill Tim if you don’t. You tear your eyes from Tim and walk exactly where Howard leads you.

As you enter a crowded stop, Howard fires several shots into the concrete ceiling as you drop your head and cover your ears. The subway passengers waiting for the next train flee in terror as you try to get away from Howard. Tim can’t be far behind, but when you’re pushed into a subway car, you’re tempted to think that no help is coming. Howard handcuffs your hands around a pole before the subway lurches into motion.

At the back of the subway, Tim struggles to pry a set of doors open before he falls into the car. He moves strategically through the empty rows of seats with his mind on you and ending this game with Howard Payne once and for all.

The subway conductor reaches for his radio, and Howard forces the deadman switch into your hands and tells you to hold it. He turns his back on you and kills the conductor as you struggle to move away.

“Look, you won. You beat Tim, you beat everybody, you can just throw me off the train. I don’t care,” you plead.

“You see this stick? When you explode, the police will come there. But that’s not where I’ll be, so I get more time. I promise it won’t hurt,” Howard replies as he pulls the detonator away from you.

A series of dull thuds echoes, and Howard looks up quickly. He smiles, and it makes your stomach flip.

“Hey, Tim. Is that you?” he asks. “He’s so persistent. Wouldn’t be able to interest you in a bribe, would I, hotshot?”

Howard kneels and opens the duffel bag full of cash. You watch as a dye pack explodes in his face and paints his money purple. In his anger, he fires bullets into the roof, and you drop to the floor as Tim rolls out of the line of fire. Howard runs through a door, and you can only listen as he climbs onto the roof and begins struggling against Tim.

Howard has the deadman stick in his hand and can kill you by moving a centimeter to the left or right, but you’re more worried about Tim with every noise against the roof. You stay low on the pole you’re cuffed to, twisting your wrists and manipulating your fingers as you try to slip free. The struggle above you silences suddenly, and you watch the door nervously.

“Tim!” you call when he rushes in. “Tim. Where’s Payne?”

“Uh, he lost his head. Turn around,” Tim says.

You circle the pole, and Tim rips a wire free before loosening the straps of the vest.

“Let’s take this off,” he says before pulling the vest away from your chest.

“Tim, can you hear me?” someone asks through the driver’s radio. “This is Wade. Listen, the track isn’t finished.”

“What else can go wrong?” you murmur.

“Wade, I copy,” Tim radios.

“Do you copy? Try the emergency brake.”

“I copy!” Tim tries again before throwing the radio down.

He steps to the right and hits the emergency brake. After the train doesn’t even slow, he begins hitting other buttons, but nothing happens.

“None of this works!” he exclaims as he hits the control board.

He turns away from the useless machinery and returns to you. When he notices the handcuffs holding you in place, he slows.

“You can uncuff me and we can get off,” you say with an exaggerated nod.

“I don’t have a key,” Tim replies.

“You don’t have…”

You trail off and look at the handcuffs. If only you could slip your hands through them, you think. Tim begins pulling and kicking the pole as you try again to pull your hands through the metal cuffs. He pauses and lays a hand against your arm to look at how tight the cuffs are.

“Help me pull,” you grunt as you lean your weight back against the restraints.

“No, no,” Tim says quickly as he pulls you forward. “You’re just hurting yourself.”

You stand still and see a bead of blood running down your fingers. As you stare at it, Tim walks to a map on the wall. He remembers the nightmare again; a series of bad memories that end with him, “the Reaper,” standing alone in the desert before being rescued and awarded a medal. As he searches for a way to save you, Tim decides that he will never shoot the hostage again, and he won’t leave you behind, even if that means dying with you.

“Tim, please just go,” you beg.

“There’s a curve ahead. I can make it jump the track.”

“Tim! Sergeant Bradford!” Tim turns to you, and you repeat, “Get off this train. You can still jump. Tim, please. Please.”

Tim ignores you as he returns to the controls and increases the train’s speed. You slide your hands down the pole as you sit on the floor, and Tim walks silently to your side. He leans in beside you, and you raise your arms to wrap around his neck as you lean your head against his. He moves his arms around the pole to circle you and holds you tight as the train picks up speed.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper just before the lights go out.

The train car hits something and spins, but Tim tightens his arms around you. With every bump and move of the subway, you become more convinced that you’ll never get out of this position. Light enters the windows as you crash through something, and the car flips onto its side as it lands on asphalt. The impact loosens the pole, and you fall onto Tim, whose grip on you doesn’t waver for a second. As the car slides to a stop, you squeeze Tim and take a deep breath.

“You didn’t leave me,” you say before forcing yourself to open your eyes.

Tim cradles the back of your head before moving his hands to your back. You lean up gently and look into his eyes again.

“I told you to leave me!”

“I didn’t have anywhere to be just then. Rest of the day off and all,” Tim responds before pulling you down against him.

He kisses you, and you’re surprised that it is more than adrenaline. The kiss is more than a relief to be alive, and you want to feel Tim Bradford at your side every day for the rest of your life (which would have ended today if not for him). You move your hands to Tim’s short hair as you return his kiss. It’s relief, joy, love, and passion in a single touch. When Tim begins breathing heavily against you, you move up.

“I’ve heard relationships that start during intense situations like this never work,” Tim says.

“Oh,” you sigh. “Then I guess we’ll be the first.”

“Whatever you say, ma’am.”

Glass rains down on you as you kiss Tim again, and though your day went nothing like you thought it would, it’s now the best day of your life. Tim helps you stand as his team approaches the scene, and you stop him before you exit the car.

“You know if this was a movie, they’d make another one where the same thing happens again, right?” you say softly.

“We’re never taking public transportation again,” Tim states.

“Yeah. Hey, where is the truck you were driving this morning?”

Tim hesitates and tightens his arm around your waist before turning away to yell, “Chen! I need you to do something for me.”

#tim bradford x reader #hanna writes✯#tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fic #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader #speed 1994

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 5 months

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Hazbin Hotel Ep1 Rewrite

Okay, let’s get the shit I like first out of the way. Animation? Beautiful. Art style? Iconic. Music? Pops off.

Okay, now the fun part…

First let me just say, I adore biblical lore. So when I see something changed from the og lore, where I think the og was more interesting, I cannot let it go.

(I’m gonna focus on the Charlie storyline in the episode)

1. The Backstory

Let’s start with the first scene, the backstory of Lucifer and Lilith. In the show, they got some of the timeline and motivations wrong. I understand that the story is sugar coated, but hear me out.

“Once upon a time, there was a dazzling kingdom protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. Home to beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and lived in peace and harmony under the rule of God. The most beautiful of the Angels was Lucifer. He was a dreamer, with fantastical ideas for all creation. But he was restricted by God and the elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Outraged by this injustice, Lucifer gathered an army of Angels, and declared war on the kingdom of Heaven. The battle raged on for centuries, but in the end, Heaven reigned victorious. As punishment for their betrayal, Lucifer and his army were cast out of Heaven. Banished to a crumbling wasteland, where the light of God could not reach. But Lucifer would not wallow in failure. From the barren landscape he rose a beautiful golden palace, crowned himself king and crafted a plan to share his freedom with God’s newest creation. Humanity.”

(I like to imagine that when Lucifer and his army fell, their wings burned up, leaving scattered feathers everywhere. In order to fly to Eden, Lucifer gathered these burned feathers and turned them into a new pair of wings for himself. They were black, messy, and trailed billowing smoke, but they could fly.)

Now for the Lilith part of the story. The more popular interpretation of her is that she is the first wife of Adam, but there is another version too, one where she is Adam’s second Wife after Eve. I personally prefer the latter because I can’t see anyone sinning or getting cast out of Edan before Eve eats the apple.

“He approached the garden of Edan in disguise, and offered the forbidden fruit of knowledge to the mother of humanity, Eve, who gladly accepted. But with the gift of knowledge and freedom, came a terrible curse. Evil bleed into the earth, and humanity was infected by darkness and sin.

For her disobedience Eve was cast out of Edan, to the dismay of her love, Adam. To appease him, the Angels crafted him a new bride, Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, with a voice so enchanting even Lucifer was mesmerized, but she was strong willed and refused to be subservient to her new husband. She fled from the garden, and rather than chase her, Adam found the tree of knowledge and bit into the forbidden fruit, so he could follow his true love, and be with her once more.

Lilith wandered, lost and alone, until she was found by Lucifer. Enamored by her beauty and iron will, he gave her his heart and made her his queen.”

Then you have the bit about Lucifer becoming depressed while Lilith thrived in Hell. I hate this! I was looking forward to a demonic Mortica and Gomez, not another Stolas and Stella. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of uwu sad misunderstood Lucifer. He is a complex character, but too often he’s over simplified by people who read Paradise Lost in high school and misinterpreted Lucifer as a tragic anti hero who was treated unfairly by the evil Angels. Lucifer can be tragic, even sympathetic. He can be fun and a caring father. But don’t forget that he is king of Hell. He is the prince of pride. He has an ego the size of east Texas and waged war against God himself.

And let’s not forget that in the show he is the head honcho over a strict cast system that encourages violence, allows the worst of the worst to take power, and leaves the hellborn races at the bottom at a severe disadvantage.

In this rewrite, Lucifer and Lilith essentially switch places, except Lilith isn’t a pathetic push over, she’s an incredibly famous rockstar, who’s always busy and not around often, but still has a bigger role in her daughter’s life than her husband, who’s been mia doing king shit.

And the last thing we hear about in the intro monologue is that the exterminations happens to prevent Hell from rising against them, which while that may be the case, don’t have Charlie say it!!! That realization for her would make the entire hotel superfluous! Charlie has to think that the problem truly is overpopulation.

2. Meeting with Adam

Let’s start with Adam himself. I hate this character. Especially as an adaptation of Adam. Yes, Adam is misogynistic. He expected Lilith to be subservient to him, but he wouldn’t be the frat boy type of misogynist, he’d be the old school chivalrous type. Grandpa style sexism. And shouldn’t the father of humanity care about his descendants? It doesn’t make any sense for him to be an executioner. He should be the leader of the guardian Angels or something.

In this rewrite, Adam is not the leader of the executioners, instead it’s the Angel Dumah. Dumah is the angel over the wicked dead, and he was appointed by God to torment sinners in Hell.

I want him to be an actual intimidating antagonist. He rarely speaks (his name means “silence”) and has many eyes (is described as having a thousand eyes)

As for the exorcists, they are Angels, but not actual dead humans wearing mask. They just look like that. Dumah is described as having tens of thousands of Angels of Destruction at his disposal. That’s what the exorcists are going to be, but instead of thousands, I’ll give him five. They don’t speak and are hardly sentient. They stand on top of the tower like gargoyles, until they “come to life” for the execution.

“But it’s a comedy! Shouldn’t they be funny?” No. It’s all about how characters react to them. The Litch in Adventure Time is a good example of this.

So obviously the meeting goes a lot differently.

Charlie gets a call, looks at the number, and excitedly tells everyone to, “shooooosh!” She takes the call nervously, saying, “yeah! Okay! Yes! Of course! I’ll be right there! Thank you SOOO much!!!” She hangs up and happily tells Vaggie that Dumah requested a meeting with her. Vaggie is nervous and says she should probably go with her, but Charlie says that she’ll be fine and tells her to stay and work on the commercial. She leaves excited that the Angels may finally be taking her seriously.

She makes it to the clock tower’s board room, where Dumah sits silently at the end of the table. Charlie nervously starts to greet him before she realizes they’re not alone. The Angels, Gabriel and Uriel have come from Heaven, for a meeting with Hell’s princess.

Uriel remains professional, politely bowing her head as she greeted Charlie. Gabriel on the other hand, threw his arms out, happily yelling, “Charlotte!!!” He wrapped her in an uncomfortably tight and awkward hug, saying how much she’s grown since he last saw her. He’s like a chill but estranged uncle meeting his now adult niece who he hasn’t seen since she was a baby and has no memory of him whatsoever.

Uriel watches the whole thing in embarrassment. She tells Charlie that Dumah had contacted them, regarding some, “interesting,” ideas about the extermination.

Charlie starts with her pitch, but Gabriel insists that they should take some time to catch up first. He claps his hands and summons plates of food for everyone. When we cut back to them, Gabriel is in the middle of telling the story about almost getting his ass kicked by Joseph when he told him his virgin wife was pregnant.

Uriel cuts him off, saying she doesn’t need to hear this story for the eighth millionth time. She turns to Charlie, exasperated, and tells her to get on with the pitch.

Charlie says that she has a potential solution for the over population problem in Hell. Uriel, Gabriel, and Dumah look at her blankly. Gabriel asks, “overpopulation?”

Charlie goes on to explain that she knows overpopulation is a big problem, but 275 sinners were executed this year alone and she just can’t stand to watch her people be slaughtered anymore.

Uriel asks if she’s suggesting an alternative, and Charlie very excitedly pitches her idea for the hotel. Uriel and Gabriel wear a matching “wtf” face and look back and forth at eachother like, “does this girl know what she’s suggesting?”

As Charlie is finishing, Uriel is visibly annoyed. She interrupts Charlie, complaining that this is ridiculous and has all been a massive waste of time as she stands up to leave. Charlie tries to stop her, saying, “please, you don’t understand.”

Uriel snaps back, “no, you don’t understand! They had their chance in life and they earned damnation.”

Charlie responds, “you're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Uriel pinches the bridge of her nose (or where a nose would be on a person) “a mistake happens once. It’s an accident, an error in judgment due to naivety. Of course mistakes can be forgiven, but we’re not talking about mistakes, are we? These sinners had a choice, and they chose to live in sin.”

“A choice they now regret!” Charlie defends.

“It takes a lot more than regret to be forgiven.” Uriel says coldly. “It takes remorse.”

Gabriel chimes in, “she has a point, Charlie. It’s easy to make someone regret their actions, but to have them feel true selfless remorse, that is much more difficult.”

Charlie furrows her brow and starts to look defeated.

“But perhaps not impossible.”

Charlie beams with excitement. Gabriel explains that this is a big decision, too big to be made right now, but if she can successfully redeem one demon, they will allow her to come to heaven and pitch her idea to the entire Angelic court. Uriel tries to argue, but Gabriel just says they’ll discuss it later. Charlie gives him a tight hug before he and Uriel disappear.

As she turns to leave, Dumah puts his hand on her shoulder. This is the first time he’s moved in the entire scene. He stares at her coldly and says, “the only reason you’re here is your father has spared you from the executioner’s blade. If I had my way. Each and every one of you would be slaughtered.”

Charlie stares up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For context, part of the reason Gabriel and Uriel were initially confused by Charlie’s proposal is because they know that Lucifer is trying to keep Hell’s population as high as possible, in preparation for the second war with heaven. That’s why he and the other princes of hell work to manipulate humanity and temp them towards sin (i.e. succubi and incubi). That’s why he arranges marriages between powerful demons to make powerful demon children (i.e. Stolas and Stella). He needs as many demons possible for his army if he’s gonna have a chance at winning. So obviously, sending sinners to heaven, aka the opposing force, is the LAST thing Lucifer would want.

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel rewrite #charlie morningstar #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #lucifer morningstar #lilith hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel

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bonefall · 6 months

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Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

#BB!Tallstar #Better bones au #BB!Flytail #Tallstar's Collapse

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malenjoyer · 18 days

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Hi!

I know right now may not be the best time to say this, but I'm kind of still processing how fast this all happened. As someone who likes to look over artists' past work esp my fav works daily and just suddenly noticed that they're almost all gone: twitter, instagram, and tumblr. It frustrates me that not only has this situation affected you, but how it really takes one selfish and inconsiderate person to ruin everything for others. I truly hope that you can heal from this and maybe we might see those pictures again, but this is just soo much to process. Just love and support for you <33333 🥹🫶😭🫶🫶🫶🫶

Hi. I’ve privated a lot of my work on tumblr and Instagram, so they’re not gone forever. I still have a lot of positive memories with them so I didn’t want to delete them. I wanted to keep all the nice comments and support I’ve gotten over these past few years.. I might unarchive them sometime in the future when I’m more okay with it being looked at. Twitter, I had no choice but to delete it, especially ones with dick, jason, and Peter Parker. My brain freaked out a little bit from seeing evidence of the person saving my art and making fake clip files with them. Logically, I am aware deleting my old art in response is stupid.

But it wasn’t limited to just comic art, it was other interests I had too which was really uncomfortable that someone would go to the extent of pretending they like other stuff I liked. They would also paraphrase tweets I’ve made about my personal life onto their own twitter. That just isn’t okay.

Every interest I’ve ever fallen in love with meant a lot to me. This is probably not publicly known information since I’m relatively private, as a depressed autistic person, a lot of who I am is what I end up liking. My friends and relatives describe me as dressing up like a cartoon character, because everything I like is so visibly obvious. I become utterly consumed in my favorite things. Suddenly, it feels like all of my control was taken away from me. My interests collected over the years were no longer just mine, it was someone else’s because they decided to lie and it was easier to continue lying. I don’t know how much was saved. There was a screenshot of a message with over 8+ of my art works sent excluding the fake files.

I don’t have control over it. The impersonation of my identity and my life experiences.

But I do have control over who gets to see what I put out in the future. I could probably write this better but I’ve rewritten a lot of things within these two days. Rewritten posts over and over so it sounds less aggressive, less hurt, less like I am trying to call for a witch hunt and more just taking extra precautions. I don’t think I have the energy to rewrite this to seem less vulnerable/pathetic.

I want to apologize to everyone who hoped I’d keep my past art public. I know how it feels. I’ve been fans of artists who just blew up their account one day and never came back. I only privated them on tumblr and Instagram. That’s all I can do. Honestly, I’m hoping a part of my brain just forgets some of this happened since depression does come with memory loss.. This post is now too long.. but I hope it gives some insight for what’s happening on my side of the brain. I appreciate all the support so far.

If you see me acting a little weird on twitter, I’m just trying to regain a sense of control over my identity.

#long post #very long post

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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How about Alpha!Eddie with a new!Omega!reader? And reader meets Eddie at the lockers on their first day, thinks their peach-vanilla scent matches Eddie's woodsy-rain-forrest scent (And also hes the nicest Alpha they ever met! Not that they have met many because they lived in a very omega & beta heavy town). They bring up the currage to ask him to spend some time with them because they think the scent match was obvious, but eddie rejects them thinking they where put up to it by Carver who always made fun of Eddie's calm ("un-alpha like") scent. Realisation, apologies and cuddles after? Thank you so much I'd you decide to write this 🙏<3

the new girl (alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader)

an: hi darling, thank you for your response. i wrote this today during a depression funk so i may rewrite it better in the future. still, i hope you enjoy it and feedback/requests are always welcomed.

story header credit to pinterest

word count: 2.2k

Each trip to your locker created a flurry of nerves despite being almost identical to the ones in your school before, but they didn’t have Eddie Munson’s attached to them.

“Hey!” His voice rang, causing you to jump, “Oh shit, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned around to see a boy with soft brown curls, a hint of stubble from his cheeks, and glistening brown eyes. His aroma was akin to a forest, dark oak trees that loomed over your head, a scent only belonging to alphas.

“You didn’t scare me, just startled.” You smiled, turning back to arrange your books, grabbing a red spined one you need for your first period. Your mundane kindness took him by surprise, preparing himself for the eventual disgust that followed once becoming aware of his freak status.

“I’m Eddie.” He announced, grabbing a disheveled notebook from his tan locker, shutting it with force due to the dents it received over his time at Hawkins High. You replied with your name, juxtaposing his action by closing yours gently, securing the lock.

With your hair swinging over your shoulder, he caught the sweet smell lingering, trying to assure himself it had to be perfume. Yet, it only intensified as he realized you were an omega, calm and sweet.

The leap in his chest was suppressed by the realization that he had never seen you before, you had to be new in town. He figured he would get in his time with you before it eventually faded away until you were just another look of judgment.

“Do you know where A23 is?” You asked, snapping him from his slight trance.

“Yeah, down the hall, last door to your left. What other classes do you have?” He asked, bumping your shoulder as he looked at your schedule, “We have 2nd and 4th period together!”

“Oh cool!” You replied, cut off by the bell, “Thank you for your help, Eddie, I’ll see you around.”

As you strolled down the hallway, your pale, yellow dress dissolved into the commotion. Sighing, Eddie shook his head in disbelief, wondering how quickly the opinions of other people would flood you.

But the days persisted and you were continuously nice, sitting next to him in the classes you shared and greeting him at your lockers. He learned you enjoyed a lot of music, moved here from a town about 2 hours away, and loved to crochet. He nearly proposed the day you meekly brought him a handmade pouch for his DnD dice, the button shaped as a bat.

Despite this, he still was weary of you, not overstaying his welcome beside you in fear of himself and for you, not wanting you to face the same torment he had. This seemed redundant as you slowly befriended his friends, specifically Robin who slowly pulled you from your shell.

Jason had been relentless with his mocking since Eddie presented, mocking his scent that wasn’t ‘manly’ enough. That it was more of an omega aura that radiated weakness. Truthfully, it bothered him, wanting nothing more than to be taken seriously. It seemed that no matter what, he was destined to be a loser. It’s why he hated the way you smelled so much, it was so pleasant and enticing, something you could never feel for him.

He felt his world come crashing down the day he saw you talking to Jason Carver before being pulled away by Robin, the basketball player smirking at his friends, doing a handshake, and going to class.

It led him to sit in an entirely different spot, ignoring your looks and walking too quickly from class. He purposefully went to his locker before you got to school, shoving everything he needed in his torn bag and lugging it around. The ache in his shoulder was incomparable to how painful it was to stand beside you, knowing his suspicions were true.

“Eddie.” You called, quickening your pace in the parking lot to reach him beside his van, “Is everything okay?”

Scoffing with an eye roll, “I’m fine.”

The furrow of your brows had the same effect on him, but he refused to let it show. Putting his hand on his door, he sat with a huff, slamming the door and putting on his sunglasses that rested on his dashboard.

“Would you want to hang out this weekend? I rented The Shinning.” You quipped, holding the straps of your backpack as you rocked on your flat-covered heels.

Laughing, he put a cigarette in his mouth, igniting it till the end burned of ember. He didn’t see the hurt on your face as he mumbled, “Piss off, ask Carver.” Reversing out of the parking lot, leaving only a cloud of dust.

The ride home was filled with blaring music, the wind going through his hair and sending it in varying directions. Forcing any thought relating to you down, he spent the night playing guitar and drinking beers, indulging in a cigarette or two.

But as the sky grew darker, he found himself thinking of you, from the first day you met to just hours ago. He wanted to kick himself for how he let his guard down in such a way, it was his fault for being so open, he knew better.

He thought more thoroughly about you befriending Jason, his stomach stirring at the thought of the two of you. You were so gentle, careful with your words, and never having an intention for ill will. Jason was the opposite, never considering someone else’s feelings above his own.

Eddie didn’t have the best self-confidence, but he knew he could treat you better than him. Jason wouldn’t know how to treat you and he sure as hell didn’t deserve you. The concept of you two in a room, alone together made him nauseous.

Sleep overcame him unwillingly, empty bottle in hand as he heard the blaring alarm clock beside him. Groaning through his headache, he smacked it off, forcing himself to sit up.

Popping in ibuprofen and taking a quick shower, he managed to barely make it in time for first class. The whole day raced past in a blur, not even bothering to look up to see if you were present. He trudged out of his seventh period, you weren’t at your locker, relief filling him with just a hint of concern at your vacancy.

“Hey, asshole!” Robin barked, going besides your locker and giving him a stern look. Bewildered at her intense demeanor, he continued to unload his bag and grab the notebook he needed.

“What’s up, Buckley?” He replied with hesitance, eyeing her skeptically as she crossed her arms, slamming his door shut.

“What’s up is that you’re a jerk! How could you say that to her?” Robin exasperated, making Eddie immediately know who she was referring to, given that you were one of the only girls he spoke to.

He tried to walk away with a groan, “She’s the one who’s all sweet with Carver.”

Her eye’s widened, racing up to him and pulling his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. Her confusion made him express the same reaction, both stopping when they saw you race past with your books pressed to your chest, going straight for the parking lot.

“You’re an idiot, Munson!” Robin shrieked causing him to wince, “She asked you to hang out and you told her to ‘Piss off’. She cried about it all night.” The recollection of his words made him cringe, even if you had betrayed him.

“Why would she be crying? She’s the one all friendly with Jason, you know, the one who’s made my life a living hell.” He emphasized, waving his arms that didn’t garner attention, most accustomed to his theatrics.

“She likes you! And her being friendly to Jason was because he tried asking to be partners for class which she declined! She said he wasn’t nice to you and Jason tried being smug about it because he’s a jackass!” Robin explained, the color from Eddie’s face draining as he processed the information.

“Oh, God.” He sighed, rubbing his palms down his face, his skin crawling at how he had been behaving lately.

While mad on your behalf, Robin had empathy for him, knowing his dealt cards were not, typically, favorable. From his home life to education, he had been let down time and time again, it would only make sense for it to happen in his eyes.

“Yeah, you were really mean to her, Eddie.” Robin replied quieter, “You know she’s an omega, right?”

Eddie’s look of surprise met Robin’s compassionate one as he nodded for confirmation, leaning in closer to continue their delicate conversation.

“You,” She emphasized with a jab at his chest, “Were her first friend here and the only alpha she had ever met who was nice to her.”

His own concern made him not contemplate the idea that you could’ve faced issues too. That, maybe, the reason you got along so well was due to your joint experiences of prejudice.

Racing out the door, he scanned the parking lot for you, but only saw jocks waiting for practice to begin. His van had never started so quickly as he pressed the gas, barely under the speed limit as he searched for you.

In the distance, he saw a blur of blue jeans and a blouse, realizing it was you as he got closer. Honking his horn, you whipped around, eyes squinting before he slammed on the brakes when you jumped back.

“Hey, want a ride?” He feigned casualty, making you shift uncomfortably, looking down the long road home. Not wanting to further irritate the backs of your ankles, you nodded, climbing in.

The silence was awkward as he went towards the edge of town, remembering how you mentioned you lived in the neighborhood a few blocks away from the trailer park. As each minute passed, he worked up the courage to speak.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a dick lately and I’m sorry.” He blurted, catching you by surprise, “I saw you with Jason and I thought you were being put up to it by him, being my friend and stuff.”

The blush that filled his cheeks made you realize his honesty, stopping at a stop light and looking in your direction. He wasn’t sure of the emotion you were experiencing, pressing his nails into his jean-clad thigh.

“I get it, I’ve had my fair share of bullying too, but I like you, Eddie.” You confessed, “My last school was mostly betas and other omegas, every alpha I met was a jerk. It’s why I was nervous about being your friend too.”

It had never been explicitly confirmed that you both knew what the other was, but it felt natural now that it was out in the open. So naturally, he drove right to his trailer, stopping and asking if you wanted to come inside.

“Can I ask when you started to like me?” Eddie questioned, getting you a Coke from his fridge and some chips.

“I knew I liked you as soon as I smelled you.” You responded bashfully, looking at your feet and tucking hair behind your ear. “I hate the way most alphas smell, but you smell great.” Making his confidence soar at the knowledge that you likely hated the way Jason and his goons smelt.

The afternoon was spent talking, explaining how you ended up in Hawkins, presented early at 16, and spent most of your time alone. He talked about how he lived with Wayne, how he presented over a year ago, Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin.

Talking about presenting would typically make you uncomfortable, but it didn’t with Eddie, it slipped past your lips easily and didn’t feel intense. He didn’t look at you differently, he asked more about your personality without an ounce of judgment in his words.

“Eddie, when I said I liked you, I think I really do.” You whispered, an episode of Match Game playing in the background as you ate some pizza that you had delivered.

“I would hope so, otherwise you have to walk home.” He jested, taking a bite of his pizza before wiping his mouth with a white napkin. You pressed your foot against his leg, pushing him away as you lounged on the opposing side of the couch.

“I mean, I like you, Eddie.” You revealed, looking towards him, his eyes towards the TV.

“I know, you said it- Wait, Ohhh.” He elongated, look at you, his heart dropped to his feet. The breath he once had was lost as you looked into his eyes, awaiting his response that he was struggling to vocalize. “I like you too.”

The grin that dawned on your face made him mimic it, leaning closer to kiss you tentatively. His nose bumped into yours, giggles erupting from your lips as he sat back, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Eddie.” You drew out, shuffling closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling the heat pooling. He looked the other way playfully, putting his hand up in your face. With a gasp, you could see his smile through the cracks in his fingers.

“Okay then, I guess I’ll be on my way.” You huffed sarcastically, standing up and facing the door.

In a swift motion, his hand caught your wrist, pulling you back towards him. In a mysterious way, you twisted before falling to his lap, facing him.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen, but thank God it did.” He said breathlessly, throwing caution to the wind and pulling you closer, letting your lips collide.

taglist plus friends/people i saw enjoyed my other work :) let me know if you'd like to not be tagged: @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple @prettyboyeddiemunson @andvys @funsonmunson-again @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @lilacletter @edsforehead @akiratoro420 @corkadymu

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alexthescaredenby · 2 months

Text

i finished the KOSA

On the Subject of Safety

Blaine/Alex Smith

A paper on the harmful effects of the Kid’s Online Safety Act (informally known as KOSA) on the internet as a whole, as written by a minor.

Censorship. Control. Tyranny. All of these will come to pass if we allow the Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA) to become law and cause the internet as we know it to cease to exist, completely and utterly. KOSA is a new bill that has been introduced by senators Blumenthal and Blackburn, which has the stated goal “to protect the safety of children on the internet” (found on the official website of the United States Congress, here.) This is either a lie, or an incredibly misguided attempt to do what it says it sets out to do. Though it is more likely a lie, or at the very least not the entire truth. First, I must note, if for no other reason than posterity and comprehensiveness, that the bill was introduced by both a Republican senator (Blackburn) and a Democratic senator (Blumenthal). It was also backed by twenty-one Democrats (Lujan, Baldwin, Klobuchar, Peters, Hickenlooper, Warner, Coons, Schatz, Murphy, Welch, Hassan, Durbin, Casey, Whitehouse, Kelly, Carper, Cardin, Menendez, Warren, Kaine, and Shaheen) and nineteen Republicans (Capito, Cassidy, Ernst, Daines, Rubio, Sullivan, Young, Grassley, Graham, Marshall, Hyde-Smith, Mullin, Risch, Britt, Lummis, Murkowski, Lankford, Crapo, and Hawley). That totals forty-two supporters of this heinous piece of legislature. Considering that there are one-hundred Senators, if you do some simple math, you will realize that fifty-eight Senators did not support KOSA. In the context of this monumental decision, that is a frighteningly close vote. If this bill were to pass, nearly all online fandom presence would be completely eradicated, and online privacy, as well as personal autonomy, would become nonexistent. And so, I say it again, KOSA supporters are just barely not the majority in the Senate, by a margin of sixteen individuals. Even though the rewrite of the bill is a slight improvement, at it’s core, KOSA is still a harmful internet censorship bill that will damage the very communities it claims to try protect.

In this bill, a “child” is defined as any person under the age of thirteen, and a “minor” is defined as any person under the age of seventeen. A "parent” is defined as any legal adult who is the biological or adopted parent of a minor, or holds legal custody over a minor. “Compulsive usage” is defined as “any response stimulated by external factors that causes an individual to engage in repetitive behavior reasonably likely to cause psychological distress, loss of control, anxiety or depression”, “Covered platforms” are defined as “an online platform (i.e. Snapchat, Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter/X, Facebook, Instagram, etc.), online video game (i.e. Helldivers 2, Halo, Mario Kart, Civilization 6, etc.), messaging platform (i.e. Snapchat, 4chan, etc.), or video streaming service (i.e. Twitch, YouTube, etc.) that connects to the internet that is used, or is reasonably likely to be used, by a minor” with the exception of “an entity acting in its capacity of: a common carrier service subject to the Communications Act of 1934 (47 U.S.C. 151 et seq.) and all Acts amendatory thereof and supplementary thereto, a broadband internet access service (as such term is defined for purposes of section 8.1(b) of title 47, Code of Federal Regulations, or any successor regulation), an email service, a teleconferencing or video conferencing service that allows reception and transmission of audio and video signals for real-time communication, provided that it is not an online platform, including a social media service or social network; and the real-time communication is initiated using a unique link or identifier to facilitate access, or a wireless messaging service, including such a service provided through short messaging service or multimedia messaging service protocols, that is not a component of or linked to an online platform and where the predominant or exclusive function is direct messaging consisting of the transmission of text, photos or videos that are sent by electronic means, where messages are transmitted from the sender to a recipient, and are not posted within an online platform or publicly, an organization not organized to carry on business for its own profit or that of its members, any public or private institution of education, a library, a news platform where the inclusion of video content on the platform is related to the platform’s own gathering, reporting or publishing of news content or the website or app is not otherwise an online platform, a product or service the primarily functions as a business to business software or a VPN or similar service that exists solely to route internet traffic between locations.

Geolocation is defined as “information sufficient to identify a street name and name of a city or town.” Individual-specific advertising to minors is defined as any form of targeted advertising towards a person who is or reasonably could be a minor, with the exception of advertising in the context of the website or app the advertising is present on, (i.e. an ad for Grammarly on a dictionary website), or for research on the effectiveness of the advertising. The rule of construction is stated to be that "no part of KOSA should be misconstrued to prohibit a lawfully operating entity from delivering content to any person that they know to be or reasonably believe is over the age of seventeen, provided that content is appropriate for the age of the person involved". To "know" something in the context of this bill is to have actual information, or to have information that is fairly implied or assumed under the basis of objective circumstances. A “mental health disorder” is defined as “a condition which causes a clinically significant disturbance or impairment on one’s cognition, emotional regulation, or behavior. “Online platform” is defined as any public platform that mainly provides a means of communication through the form of a public forum or private chatroom (i.e., Discord, Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter, TikTok, etc.). An “online video game” is defined as any video game or game-adjacent service, including those that provide an educational element, that allows users to create or upload content, engage in microtransactions, communicate with other users, or includes minor specific advertising (i.e., Happy Wheels, Adventure Academy, Meet Your Maker, etc.). “Personal data” is defined as any data or information that is linked or could reasonably be linked to a minor. A “personalized recommendation system (PRS)” is defined as any system that presents content to a user based on date and/or analytics from the user or similar users (i.e., a like-based system, a view-based system, a “for you” system, or a “people that watched also liked” system). Finally, “sexual exploitation or abuse” is defined as: coercion and enticement, as described in section 2422 of title 18, United States Code, child sexual abuse material, as described in sections 2251, 2252, 2252A, and 2260 of title 18, United States Code, trafficking for the production of images (child pornography), as described in section 2251A of title 18, United States Code, or sex trafficking of children, as described in section 1591 of title 18, United States Code.

Before I continue with this paper, I would like to draw attention to the fact that nowhere in the defined terms does it define any form of physical, mental, or emotional violence towards minors, only sexual abuse or assault. This will become important later.

Continuing with the bill, we arrive at the actual regulations, policies and laws proposed by the bill. Here begins Section 3 of the bill, or “Duty of care”. This section includes regulations on the online platform used by a minor, and the duties of it and its owner(s), creator(s), moderator(s), or manager(s). In this section, it is stated that a covered platform must, to the best of its reasonable ability, limit the following harms or dangers to any person who is known to be or reasonably believed to be a minor:

Anxiety, depression, substance use disorders, suicidal disorders, and other similar conditions.

Patterns of use that promote or encourage addiction-like behavior.

Physical violence, online bullying, and harassment of the minor.

Sexual exploitation or abuse.

Promotion and marketing of narcotic drugs (as defined in section 102 of the Controlled Substances Act (21 U.S.C. 802)), tobacco products, gambling, or alcohol.

Predatory, unfair, or deceptive marketing, or other financial harms.

With the exception of:

Any content that is deliberately, independently, and willingly requested or sought out by the minor.

Any platform that provides resources or information to help mitigate the aforementioned harms to the minor.

Again, I call attention to the fact that although physical violence is now mentioned and prohibited, it is done so by burying it in the middle of a wall of text. With as touchy of a subject as this is, one would think that more attention would be drawn to it.

And now we get into the meat and potatoes of this rotten bill, with Section 4, or “Safeguards for minors”. In this section, it is stated that any covered platform shall provide any user who is known to be a minor or is reasonably believed to be a minor, with easy-to-use and readily accessible “safeguards” such as:

Limiting the ability of other individuals to communicate with the minor.

Restricting public access to the personal data of the minor.

Limiting features that increase, sustain, or extend use of the covered platform by the minor, such as automatic playing of media, rewards for time spent on the platform, notifications, and other features that result in compulsive usage of the covered platform by the minor.

Controlling personalized recommendation systems for the minor, and giving them the option to either opt out of the system entirely or to limit the types of content shown through the PRS.

Restricting the sharing of GPS data of the minor sufficient for geolocation.

As well as the options for the minor:

Delete the account of the minor, as well as any data or content associated with the account, effectively removing any trace of the account’s existence from the platform, and the internet at large.

Limit the amount of time spent on the platform.

A covered platform shall also provide parents with the following tools:

Requirements:

The ability to manage a minor’s privacy and account settings, including the safeguards and options established under subsection (a), in a manner that allows parents to:

View the privacy and account settings of the minor.

In the case of a user that the platform knows is a child, change and control the privacy and account settings of the account of the minor.

Restrict purchases and financial transactions by the minor, where applicable.

View metrics of total time spent on the platform and restrict time spent on the covered platform by the minor.

The bill also states that any minor(s) affected by the aforementioned systems should be given clear, prompt, and easily understood and accessible notice of if the systems have been applied, in what capacity they are applied in, and how they are applied.

Default Tools:

A covered platform shall provide the following tools and systems to both minor and parent(s) of that minor, and have them be enabled by default:

A reporting mechanism, which is readily available and easily accessible and useable, to report any incidents or crimes involving the minor(s), as well as confirmation that such a report is received, and the means to track it.

To respond to the report in a timely and appropriate manner, within a reasonable timeframe.

An understanding and appreciation of the fact that a reasonable timeframe is:

(A) 10 days (about 1 and a half weeks) after the receipt of a report, if, for the most recent calendar year, the platform averaged more than 10,000,000 active users monthly in the United States.

(B) 21 days (about 3 weeks) after the receipt of a report, if, for the most recent calendar year, the platform averaged less than 10,000,000 active users monthly in the United States.

(C) notwithstanding subparagraphs (A) and (B), if the report involves an imminent threat to the safety of a minor, as promptly as needed to address the reported threat to safety.

Accessibility :

With respect to the aforementioned safeguards, a covered platform shall provide:

Information and control options in a clear and conspicuous manner that takes into consideration the differing ages, capacities, and developmental needs of the minors most likely to access the covered platform and does not encourage minors or parents to weaken or disable safeguards or parental controls.

Readily accessible and easy-to-use controls to enable or disable safeguards or parental controls, as appropriate.

Information and control options in the same language, form, and manner as the covered platform provides the product or service used by minors and their parents.

The bill also states that no part of the previous statements should be construed to prohibit or prevent a covered platform from blocking, banning, filtering, flagging, or deleting content inappropriate for minors from their platform, or to prevent general management of spam, as well as security risks. It also states that regarding PRSs, it shall be illegal for a covered platform to alter or distort any analytics or data gathered from their platform with the purpose of limiting user autonomy. Also included in this section is that no part of KOSA shall be construed to require the disclosure of a minor’s personal data, including search history, contacts, messages, and location. Also stated is that a PRS for a minor is allowed under the condition that it only uses data publicly available, such as the language the minor speaks, or the minor’s age, and that covered platforms are allowed to integrate third-party systems into their platform, if they meet the requirements laid out in the bill.

And now our train arrives at Section 5, “Disclosure”. This section includes rules regarding the disclosure of policies, rules, and terms to a user that is a minor or is reasonably believed to be a minor prior to their registration with a covered platform.

Registration or Purchase:

Prior to registration or purchase of a covered platform, the platform must provide clear and easily understood information on the policies of the platform, its rules, regulations, etc. As well as any PRS used by the platform, and information on how to turn it and the parental controls on and off.

Notification:

Notice and Acknowledgement, Reasonable Effort, and Consolidated Notices:

In the case of an individual that a covered platform knows is a child, the platform shall additionally provide information about the parental tools and safeguards required under section 4 to a parent of the child and obtain verifiable parental consent (as defined in section 1302(9) of the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act (15 U.S.C. 6501(9))) from the parent prior to the initial use of the covered platform by the child.

A covered platform shall be deemed to have satisfied the requirement described in subparagraph (A) if the covered platform is in compliance with the requirements of the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act (15 U.S.C. 6501 et seq.) to use reasonable efforts (taking into consideration available technology) to provide a parent with the information and to obtain verifiable parental consent as required.

A covered platform may consolidate the process for providing information under this subsection and obtaining verifiable parental consent or the consent of the minor involved (as applicable) as required under this subsection with its obligations to provide relevant notice and obtain verifiable parental consent under the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act (15 U.S.C. 6501 et seq.).

Guidance: the FTC may assist covered platforms with compliance with the rules and regulations in this section.

A covered platform that operates a personalized recommendation system shall set out in its terms and conditions, in a clear, conspicuous, and easy-to-understand manner:

An overview of how such personalized recommendation system is used by the covered platform to provide information to users of the platform who are minors, including how such systems use the personal data of minors; and

Information about options for minors or their parents to opt out of or control the personalized recommendation system (as applicable).

Advertising and Marketing Information and Labels:

A covered platform that facilitates advertising aimed at users that the platform knows are minors shall provide clear, conspicuous, and easy-to-understand information and labels to minors on advertisements regarding:

The name of the product, service, or brand and the subject matter of an advertisement;

If the covered platform engages in individual-specific advertising to minors, why a particular advertisement is directed to a specific minor, including material information about how the minor's personal data is used to direct the advertisement to the minor; and

Whether media displayed to the minor is an advertisement or marketing material, including disclosure of endorsements of products, services, or brands made for commercial consideration by other users of the platform.

Resources for Parents and Minors:

A covered platform shall provide to minors and parents clear, conspicuous, easy-to-understand, and comprehensive information in a prominent location regarding:

Its policies and practices with respect to personal data and safeguards for minors.

How to access the safeguards and tools required under section four.

Resources in Additional Languages:

A covered platform shall ensure, to the extent practicable, that the disclosures required by this section are made available in the same language, form, and manner as the covered platform provides any product or service used by minors and their parents.

That concludes Section 5, and now our next stop is Section 6: “Transparency”. This section includes protocols for public transparency for covered platforms, including public reports on the status of potential harm to minors on their platforms.

Scope of Application: the requirements of this section shall apply to a covered platform if:

For the most recent calendar year, the platform averaged more than 10,000,000 active users monthly in the United States.

The platform predominantly provides a community forum for user-generated content and discussion, including sharing videos, images, games, audio files, discussion in a virtual setting, or other content, such as acting as a social media platform, virtual reality environment, or a social network service.

Transparency: The public reports required of a covered platform under this section shall include:

An assessment of the extent to which the platform is likely to be accessed by minors;

A description of the commercial interests of the covered platform in use by minors;

An accounting, based on the data held by the covered platform, of:

The number of individuals using the covered platform reasonably believed to be minors in the United States;

The median and mean amounts of time spent on the platform by minors in the United States who have accessed the platform during the reporting year on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis; and

The amount of content being accessed by individuals that the platform knows to be minors that is in English, and the top 5 non-English languages used by individuals accessing the platform in the United States;

An accounting of total reports received regarding, and the prevalence (which can be based on scientifically valid sampling methods using the content available to the covered platform in the normal course of business) of content related to, the harms described in section 3, disaggregated by category of harm and language, including English and the top five non-English languages used by individuals accessing the platform from the United States.

A description of any material breaches of parental tools or assurances regarding minors, representations regarding the use of the personal data of minors, and other matters regarding non-compliance.

Reasonably Foreseeable Risk of Harm to Minors: the public reports required of covered platforms under this section shall include:

An assessment of the reasonably foreseeable risk of harm to minors posed by the covered platform, including identifying any other physical, mental, developmental, or financial harms.

An assessment of how personalized recommendation systems and individual-specific advertising to minors can contribute to harm to minors.

A description of whether and how the covered platform uses system design features that increase, sustain, or extend use of a product or service by a minor, such as automatic playing of media, rewards for time spent, and notifications.

A description of whether, how, and for what purpose the platform collects or processes categories of personal data that may cause reasonably foreseeable risk of harm to minors.

An evaluation of the efficacy of safeguards for minors under section 4, and any issues in delivering such safeguards and the associated parental tools.

An evaluation of any other relevant matters of public concern over risk of harm to minors.

An assessment of differences in risk of harm to minors across different English and non-English languages and efficacy of safeguards in those languages.

Mitigation: The public reports required of a covered platform under this section shall include, for English and the top 5 non-English languages used by individuals accessing the platform from the United States:

A description of the safeguards and parental tools available to minors and parents on the covered platform.

A description of interventions by the covered platform when it had or has reason to believe that harms to minors could occur.

A description of the prevention and mitigation measures intended to be taken in response to the known and emerging risks identified in its assessment of system risks, including steps taken to:

Prevent harm to minors, including adapting or removing system design features or addressing through parental controls.

Provide the most protective level of control over privacy and safety by default.

Adapt recommendation systems to mitigate reasonably foreseeable risk of harms to minors.

A description of internal processes for handling reports and automated detection mechanisms for harms to minors, including the rate, timeliness, and effectiveness of responses.

The status of implementing prevention and mitigation measures identified in prior assessments.

A description of the additional measures to be taken by the covered platform to address the circumvention of safeguards for minors and parental tools.

Reasonable Inspection: when conducting an inspection on the systemic risk of harm to minors on their platforms under this section, a covered platform shall:

Consider the function any PRS on their platform.

Consult relevant parties with authority on topics relevant to the inspection.

Conduct their research based on experiences of minors using the platform that the study is being conducted on, including reports and information provided by law enforcement.

Take account of outside research, but not outside data for the study itself.

Consider any implied, indicated, inferred, or known information on the age of users.

Consider the presence of both English and non-English speaking users on their platform.

Cooperation With Independent, Third Pary Audit: To facilitate the report required by this section, a covered platform shall:

Provide directly or otherwise make accessible to the third party conducting the audit all:

Information and data that the platform has the access and authority to disclose that are relevant to the audit.

Platforms, systems and assets that the platform has the access and authority to disclose that are relevant to the audio.

Facts relevant to the audit, unaltered and correctly and fully represented.

Privacy Safeguards: In this subsection, the term “de-identified” means data that does not identify and is not linked or reasonably linkable to a device that is linked or reasonably linkable to an individual, regardless of whether the information is aggregated. In issuing the public reports required under this section, a covered platform shall take steps to safeguard the privacy of its users, including ensuring that data is presented in a de-identified, aggregated format such that it is reasonably impossible for the data to be linked back to any individual user. A covered platform must also present or publish the information on a publicly available and accessible webpage.

And now the next stop on our tour is Section 7: Independent Research on Social Media and Minors. This section details the interactions between the FTC and the National Academy of Sciences in the months following the passing of this bill, if and when it passes. It states that the FTC is to seek to enter a contract with the Academy, in which the Academy is to conduct no less that 5 separate independent scientific studies on the risk of harms to minors on social media, addressing:

Anxiety, depression, eating and suicidal disorders.

Substance use (drugs, narcotics, alcohol, etc.) and gambling.

Sexual exploitation and abuse.

Addiction like behaviors leading to compulsive usage.

Additional Study: after at least 4 years since the passing of the bill, the FTC and the Academy shall enter another contract, in which the Academy shall conduct another study on the above topics, to provide more up to data information.

Content of Reports: The comprehensive studies and reports conducted pursuant to this section shall seek to evaluate impacts and advance understanding, knowledge, and remedies regarding the harms to minors posed by social media and other online platforms and may include recommendations related to public policy.

Active Studies: If the Academy is already engaged in any extant studies regarding the topics described above, it may base the studies required of this section off said study, if it is otherwise compliant.

Collaboration: In conducting the studies required under this section, the FTC, National Academy of Sciences, and the Secretary of Health and Human Services shall consult with the Surgeon General and the Kids Online Safety Council (KOSC).

Access to Data: The FTC may issue orders to covered platforms to gather and compile data and information needed for the studies required under this section, as well as issue orders under section 6(b) of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 46(b)) to no more than 5 covered platforms per study under this section. Pursuant to subsections (b) and (f) of section 6 of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 46), the FTC shall also enter in agreements with the National Academy to share appropriate information received from a covered platform pursuant to an order under such subsection (b) for a comprehensive study under this section in a confidential and secure manner, and to prohibit the disclosure or sharing of such information by the National Academy.

Next is a short Section 8: Market Research.

Market Research by Covered Platforms: The FTC, in consultation with the Secretary of Commerce, shall issue guidance for covered platforms seeking to conduct market- and product-focused research on minors. Such guidance shall include:

A standard consent form that provides minors and their parents a clear, conspicuous, and easy-to-understand explanation of the scope and purpose of the research to be conducted, and provides an opportunity for informed consent in the language in which the parent uses the covered platform; and

Recommendations for research practices for studies that may include minors, disaggregated by the age ranges of 0-5, 6-9, 10-12, and 13-16.

The FTC shall issue such guidance no later than 18 months (about 1 and a half years) after the date of enactment of this Act. In doing so, they shall seek input from members of the public and the representatives of the KOSC established under section 12.

As we pull off interstate 8 we come into Section 9: Age Verification Study and Report. This is where the writers evidently started pounding shots of tequila at their desks, as some of the regulations in this section are completely asinine. Here we are told about a mandatory age verification system. Gone will be the days of being born in 1427 as a kid, now our age will be known to any covered platform. Is that what you want?

Study: The Director of the National Institute of Standards and Technology, in coordination with the FCC, FTC, and the SoC, shall conduct a study evaluating the most technologically feasible methods and options for developing systems to verify age at the device or operating system level.

Such study shall consider:

The benefits of creating a device or operating system level age verification system.

What information may need to be collected to create this type of age verification system.

The accuracy of such systems and their impact or steps to improve accessibility, including for individuals with disabilities.

How such a system or systems could verify age while mitigating risks to user privacy and data security and safeguarding minors' personal data, emphasizing minimizing the amount of data collected and processed by covered platforms and age verification providers for such a system.

The technical feasibility, including the need for potential hardware and software changes, including for devices currently in commerce and owned by consumers.

The impact of different age verification systems on competition, particularly the risk of different age verification systems creating barriers to entry for small companies.

Report: No later than 1 year after the passing of KOSA, the agencies described in subsection (a) shall submit a report containing the results of the study conducted under such subsection to the Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation of the Senate and the Committee on Energy and Commerce of the House of Representatives.

Section 10: Guidance.

No later than 18 months (about 1 and a half years) after the date of enactment of this Act, the FTC, in consultation with the KOSC established under section 12, shall issue guidance to:

Provide information and examples for covered platforms and auditors regarding the following, with consideration given to differences across English and non-English languages:

Identifying features used to increase, sustain, or extend use of the covered platform by a minor (compulsive usage).

Safeguarding minors against the possible misuse of parental tools.

Best practices in providing minors and parents the most protective level of control over privacy and safety.

Using indicia or inferences of age of users for assessing use of the covered platform by minors.

Methods for evaluating the efficacy of safeguards; and

Providing additional control options that allow parents to address the harms described in section 3.

Outline conduct that does not have the purpose or substantial effect of subverting or impairing user autonomy, decision-making, or choice, or of causing, increasing, or encouraging compulsive usage for a minor, such as:

Minute user interface changes derived from testing consumer preferences, including different styles, layouts, or text, where such changes are not done with the purpose of weakening or disabling safeguards or parental controls, such as the following, are exceptions to this:

Algorithms or data outputs outside the control of a covered platform.

The establishing of default settings that provide enhanced privacy protection to users or otherwise enhance their autonomy and decision-making ability.

Guidance to Schools: No later than 18 months (about 1 and a half years) after the date of enactment of this act, the SoE, in consultation with the FTC and the KOSC established under section 12, shall issue guidance to assist to assist elementary and secondary schools in using the notice, safeguards and tools provided under this Act and providing information on online safety for students and teachers.

Guidance on Knowledge Standards: No later than 18 months (about 1 and a half years) after the date of enactment of this act, the FTC shall issue guidance to provide information, including best practices and examples, for covered platforms to understand the Commission’s determination of whether a covered platform “had knowledge fairly implied on the basis of objective circumstances” for purposes of this act.

Limitation on FTC Guidance: No guidance issued by the FTC with respect to this act shall:

Confer any rights on any person, State, or locality; or

Operate to bind the FTC or any person to the approach recommended in such guidance.

Enforcement Actions: In any enforcement action made to a covered platform in violation of this act, the FTC:

Shall allege a violation of this act.

May not base such enforcement action on, or execute a consent order based on, practices that are alleged to be inconsistent with guidance issued by the FTC with respect to this aact, unless the practices are alleged to violate a provision of this act.

And now we’re almost on the home stretch, with Section 11, otherwise known as Enforcement. This section outlines, you guessed it, the enforcement of this act.

Enforcement by the FTC:

Unfair and Deceptive Acts or Practices: A violation of this act shall be treated as a violation of a rule defining an unfair or deceptive act or practice prescribed under section 18(a)(1)(B) of the Federal Trade Commission Act.

Powers of the Commission: The FTC shall enforce this act in the same manner, by the same means, and with the same jurisdiction, powers, and duties as though all applicable terms and provisions of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 41 et seq.) were incorporated into and made a part of this act.

Privileges and Immunities: Any person that violates this act shall be subject to the penalties, and entitled to the privileges and immunities, provided in the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 41 et seq.).

Authority Preserved: Nothing in this act shall be construed to limit the authority of the FTC under any other provision of law.

Enforcement by State Attorney General:

Civil Actions: In any case in which the attorney general of a State has reason to believe that an interest of the residents of that State has been or is threatened or adversely affected by the engagement of any person in a practice that violates this act, the State, as parens patrie (de facto parent of any citizens unable to defend themselves) , may bring a civil action on behalf of the residents of the State in a district court of the United States or a State court of appropriate jurisdiction to:

Enjoin that practice.

Enforce compliance with this act.

On behalf of residents of the State, obtain damages, restitution, or other compensation, each of which shall be distributed in accordance with State law.

Obtain such other relief as the court may consider to be appropriate.

Notice: Before filing an action, the attorney general of the State involved shall provide to the Commission:

Written notice of that action.

A copy of the complaint for that action.

Exemption: Clause (i) shall not apply with respect to the filing of an action by an attorney general of a State under this paragraph if the attorney general of the State determines that it is not feasible to provide the notice described in that clause before the filing of the action.

Notification: In an action described in subclause (I), the attorney general of a State shall provide notice and a copy of the complaint to the Commission at the same time as the attorney general files the action.

Intervention: On receiving notice, the Commission shall have the right to intervene in the action that is the notice's subject.

Effect of Intervention: If the Commission intervenes in an action under paragraph (1), it shall have the right:

To be heard with respect to any matter that arises in that action.

To file a petition for appeal.

Construction: For purposes of bringing any civil action under paragraph (1), nothing in this act shall be construed to prevent an attorney general of a State from exercising the powers conferred on the attorney general by the laws of that State to:

Conduct investigations;

Administer oaths or affirmations.

Compel the attendance of witnesses or the production of documentary and other evidence.

Actions by the Commission: In any case in which an action is instituted by or on behalf of the Commission for violation of this act, no State may, during the pendency of that action, institute a separate action under paragraph (1) against any defendant named in the complaint in the action instituted by or on behalf of the Commission for that violation.

Venue; Service of Progress:

Venue: Any action brought under paragraph (1) may be brought in either:

The district court of the United States that meets applicable requirements relating to venue under section 1391 of title 28, United States Code.

A State court of competent authority.

Service of Progress: In an action brought under paragraph (1) in a district court of the United States, process may be served wherever the defendant:

Is an inhabitant.

May be found.

And now we are going to hear about the Kids Online Safety Council we’ve been hearing so much about in the last few sections in Section 12: Kids Online Safety Council.

Establishment: No later than 180 days (about 6 months) after the enactment date of this act, the Secretary of Commerce shall establish and convene the Kids Online Safety Council to provide advice on matters related to this act.

The Kids Online Safety Council shall include diverse participation from:

Academic experts, health professionals, and members of civil society with expertise in mental health, substance use disorders, and the prevention of harm to minors.

Representatives in academia and civil society with specific expertise in privacy and civil liberties.

Parents and youth representation.

Representatives of covered platforms.

Representatives of the NTIA, the NIST, the FTC, the DoJ, and the DHHS.

(6) State attorneys general or their designees acting in State or local government.

Educators.

Representatives of communities of socially disadvantaged individuals (as defined in section 8 of the Small Business Act (15 U.S.C. 637)).

Activities: The matters to be addressed by the Kids Online Safety Council shall include:

Identifying emerging or current risks of harm to minors associated with online platforms.

Recommending measures and methods for assessing, preventing, and mitigating harms to minors online.

Recommending methods and themes for conducting research regarding online harms to minors, including in English and non-English languages.

Recommending best practices and clear, consensus-based technical standards for transparency reports and audits, as required under this a ct, including methods, criteria, and scope to promote overall accountability.

And now for Section 13, Filter Bubble Transparency Requirements. Almost to the end!

Definitions: In this section:

The term “algorithmic ranking system” means a computational process, including one derived from algorithmic decision-making, machine learning, statistical analysis, or other data processing or artificial intelligence techniques, used to determine the selection, order, relative prioritization, or relative prominence of content from a set of information that is provided to a user on a covered internet platform, including the ranking of search results, the provision of content recommendations, the display of social media posts, or any other method of automated content selection.

The term “approximate geolocation information” means information that identifies the location of an individual, but with a precision of less than 5 miles.

The term “Commission” means the Federal Trade Commission.

The term “connected device” means an electronic device that:

Can connect to the internet, either directly or indirectly through a network, to communicate information in the direction of an individual.

Has computer processing capabilities for collecting, sending, receiving, or analyzing data.

Is primarily designed for or marketed to consumers.

Covered Internet Platform: The term “covered internet platform” means any public-facing website, internet application, or mobile application, including a social network site, video sharing service, search engine, or content aggregation service. Such term shall not include a platform that:

Is wholly owned, controlled, and operated by a person that:

For the most recent 6-month period, did not employ more than 500 employees.

For the most recent 3-year period, averaged less than $50,000,000 in annual gross revenue.

Collects or processes on an annual basis the user-specific data of less than 1,000,000 users (about the population of Delaware) or is operated for the sole purpose of conducting research that is not made for profit either directly or indirectly.

Input Transparent Algorithm: The term “input-transparent algorithm” means an algorithmic ranking system that does not use the user-specific data of a user to determine the selection, order, relative prioritization, or relative prominence of information that is furnished to such user on a covered internet platform, unless the user-specific data is expressly provided to the platform by the user for such purpose.

Data Provided for Express Purpose of Interaction with Platform For purposes of subparagraph (A), user-specific data that is provided by a user for the express purpose of determining the selection, order, relative prioritization, or relative prominence of information that is furnished to such user on a covered internet platform:

Shall include user-supplied search terms, filters, speech patterns (if provided for the purpose of enabling the platform to accept spoken input or selecting the language in which the user interacts with the platform), saved preferences, and the current precise geolocation information that is supplied by the user.

Shall include the user's current approximate geolocation information.

Shall include data affirmatively supplied to the platform by the user that expresses the user's desire to receive particular information, such as the social media profiles the user follows, the video channels the user subscribes to, or other content or sources of content on the platform the user has selected.

Shall NOT include the history of the user's connected device, including the user's history of web searches and browsing, previous geographical locations, physical activity, device interaction, and financial transactions.

Shall NOT include inferences about the user or the user's connected device, without regard to whether such inferences are based on data described in clause (i) or (iii).

Opaque Algorithm: The term “opaque algorithm” means an algorithmic ranking system that determines the selection, order, relative prioritization, or relative prominence of information that is furnished to such user on a covered internet platform based, in whole or part, on user-specific data that was not expressly provided by the user to the platform for such purpose.

Exception for Age-Appropriate Content Filtering: Such term shall not include an algorithmic ranking system used by a covered internet platform if:

The only user-specific data (including inferences about the user) that the system uses is information relating to the age of the user.

Such information is only used to restrict a user's access to content on the basis that the individual is not old enough to access such content (i.e., not allowing a 13-year-old to access pornography).

Precise Geolocation Information: The term “precise geolocation information” means geolocation information that identifies an individual’s location to within a range of 5 miles or less.

Search Syndication Contract, Upstream Provider, Downstream Provider:

The term “search syndication contract” means a contract or subcontract for the sale of, license of, or other right to access an index of web pages or search results on the internet for the purpose of operating an internet search engine.

The term “upstream provider” means, with respect to a search syndication contract, the person that grants access to an index of web pages or search results on the internet to a downstream provider pursuant to the contract.

The term “downstream provider” means, with respect to a search syndication contract, the person that receives access to an index of web pages on the internet from an upstream provider under such contract.

User Specific Data: The term “user-specific data” means information relating to an individual or a specific connected device that would not necessarily be true of every individual or device.

Requirement to Allow Users to View Unaltered Content on Internet Platforms: Beginning on the date that is 1 year after the date of enactment of this Act, it shall be illegal:

For any person to operate a covered internet platform that uses an opaque algorithm unless the person complies with the opaque algorithm requirements.

For any upstream provider to grant access to an index of web pages on the internet under a search syndication contract that does not comply with the requirements of paragraph (3).

Opaque Algorithm Requirements: The requirements of this paragraph with respect to a person that operates a covered internet platform that uses an opaque algorithm are the following:

The person provides notice to users of the platform:

That the platform uses an opaque algorithm that uses user-specific data to select the content the user sees. Such notice shall be presented in a clear, conspicuous manner on the platform whenever the user interacts with an opaque algorithm for the first time and may be a one-time notice that can be dismissed by the user.

In the terms and conditions of the covered internet platform, in a clear, accessible, and easily comprehensible manner to be updated no less frequently than once every 6 months:

The most salient features, inputs, and parameters used by the algorithm.

How any user-specific data used by the algorithm is collected or inferred about a user of the platform, and the categories of such data.

Any options that the covered internet platform makes available for a user of the platform to opt out or exercise options under clause (ii), modify the profile of the user or to influence the features, inputs, or parameters used by the algorithm.

Any quantities, such as time spent using a product or specific measures of engagement or social interaction, that the algorithm is designed to optimize, as well as a general description of the relative importance of each quantity for such ranking.

The person makes available a version of the platform that uses an input-transparent algorithm and enables users to easily switch between the version of the platform that uses an opaque algorithm and the version of the platform that uses the input-transparent algorithm.

Exceptions for Certain Downstream Providers: Subparagraph (A) shall not apply with respect to an internet search engine if:

The search engine is operated by a downstream provider with fewer than 1,000 employees.

The search engine uses an index of web pages on the internet to which such provider received access under a search syndication contract.

Search Syndication Contract Requirements: The requirements of this paragraph with respect to a search syndication contract are that:

As part of the contract, the upstream provider makes available to the downstream provider the same input-transparent algorithm used by the upstream provider for purposes of complying with paragraph (2)(A)(ii).

The upstream provider does not impose any additional costs, degraded quality, reduced speed, or other constraint on the functioning of such algorithm when used by the downstream provider to operate an internet search engine relative to the performance of such algorithm when used by the upstream provider to operate an internet search engine.

Prohibition on Differential Pricing: A covered internet platform shall not deny, charge different prices or rates for, or condition the provision of a service or product to an individual based on the individual’s election to use a version of the platform that uses an input-transparent algorithm as provided under paragraph (2)(A)(ii).

Enforcement by FTC:

Unfair or Deceptive Acts or Practices: A violation of this section by an operator of a covered internet platform shall be treated as a violation of a rule defining an unfair or deceptive act or practice prescribed under section 18(a)(1)(B) of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 57a(a)(1)(B)).

Powers of Commision: Except as provided in subparagraph (C), the FTC shall enforce this section in the same manner, by the same means, and with the same jurisdiction, powers, and duties as though all applicable terms and provisions of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 41 et seq.) were incorporated into and made a part of this section.

Privileges and Immunities: Except as provided in subparagraph (C), any person who violates this Act shall be subject to the penalties and entitled to the privileges and immunities provided in the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 41 et seq.).

Common Carriers and Nonprofit Institutions: Notwithstanding section 4, 5(a)(2), or 6 of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 44, 45(a)(2), 46) or any jurisdictional limitation of the Commission, the Commission shall also enforce this act, in the same manner provided in subparagraphs (A) and (B) of this paragraph, with respect to:

Common carriers subject to the Communications Act of 1934 (47 U.S.C. 151 et seq.) and acts amendatory thereof and supplementary thereto

Organizations are not organized to carry on business for their own profit or that of their members.

Authority Preserved: Nothing in this section shall be construed to limit the authority of the Commission under any other provision of law.

Rule of Application: Section 11 shall not apply to this section.

Rule of Construction to Preserve Personal Blocks: Nothing in this section shall be construed to limit or prohibit a covered internet platform’s ability to, at the direction of an individual user or group of users, restrict another user from searching for, finding, accessing, or interacting with such user’s or group’s account, content, data, or online community.

Skipping over Section 14, as it is incredibly short (don’t worry, it’s one line, and I’ll say it at the end), we arrive at Section 15, or “Rules of Construction and Other Matters”.

Relationships to Other Laws: Nothing in this Act shall be construed to:

Preempt section 444 of the General Education Provisions Act (20 U.S.C. 1232g (about 2.72 lb), commonly known as the “Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act of 1974”) or other Federal or State laws governing student privacy.

Preempt the Children's Online Privacy Protection Act of 1998 (15 U.S.C. 6501 et seq.) or any rule or regulation promulgated under such Act.

Authorize any action that would conflict with section 18(h) of the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. 57a(h)).

Fairly Implied on the Basis of Objective Circumstances: For purposes of enforcing this act, in making a determination as to whether covered platform has knowledge fairly implied on the basis of objective circumstances that a user is a minor, the FTC shall rely on competent and reliable empirical evidence, taking into account the totality of the circumstances, including consideration of whether the operator, using available technology, exercised reasonable care.

Protections for Privacy: Nothing in this act shall be construed to require:

The affirmative collection of any personal data with respect to the age of users that a covered platform is not already collecting in the normal course of business.

A covered platform to implement an age gating or age verification functionality.

Compliance: Nothing in this act shall be construed to restrict a covered platform's ability to:

Cooperate with law enforcement agencies regarding activity that the covered platform reasonably and in good faith believes may violate Federal, State, or local laws, rules, or regulations.

Comply with a civil, criminal, or regulatory inquiry or any investigation, subpoena, or summons by Federal, State, local, or other government authorities.

Investigate, establish, exercise, respond to, or defend against legal claims.

Application to Video Streaming Services: A video streaming service shall be deemed to be in compliance with this act if it predominantly consists of news, sports, entertainment, or other video programming content that is preselected by the provider and not user-generated, and:

Any chat, comment, or interactive functionality is provided incidental to, directly related to, or dependent on provision of such content.

If such video streaming service requires account owner registration and is not predominantly news or sports, the service includes the capability:

To limit a minor’s access to the service, which may utilize a system of age-rating.

To limit the automatic playing of on-demand content selected by a personalized recommendation system for an individual that the service knows is a minor.

To provide an individual that the service knows is a minor with readily-accessible and easy-to-use options to delete an account held by the minor and delete any personal data collected from the minor on the service, or, in the case of a service that allows a parent to create a profile for a minor, to allow a parent to delete the minor’s profile, and to delete any personal data collected from the minor on the service.

For a parent to manage a minor’s privacy and account settings, and restrict purchases and financial transactions by a minor, where applicable.

To provide an electronic point of contact specific to matters described in this paragraph.

To offer clear, conspicuous, and easy-to-understand notice of its policies and practices with respect to personal data and the capabilities described in this paragraph.

When providing on-demand content, to employ measures that safeguard against serving advertising for narcotic drugs (as defined in section 102 of the Controlled Substances Act (21 U.S.C. 802)), tobacco products, gambling, or alcohol directly to the account or profile of an individual that the service knows is a minor.

And finally, we arrive at Section 16, the last Section, combined with Section 14, which I glossed over earlier. If any part of this act is deemed obsolete, ineffective, or unnecessary at any point in time, it may be removed from the act without any effect to the rest of it. Unless otherwise specified, all regulations in this act shall come into effect 18 months (about 1 and a half years) after the passing of this bill.

As you can see, this bill makes an impressive amount of sense, and if it were simply used as intended, it would be wonderful. However, because we can never have nice things, legislators, politicians, and the common public have twisted this bill, warping it to serve their selfish desires. Firstly, Senator Blackburn, one of the people behind this whole thing, blatantly said to a camera that she was going to “use KOSA to protect kids from the transgender in this culture.” With the queer community already under fire from all sides, this is the last thing they need, as all it does is further demonize them, and paint them as evil, pedophilic freaks to be feared and hated. A lot of regulations outlined in this bill also provide a concerning amount of control over the children it claims to protect, and it isn’t giving it to the child. It’s giving it to their parents. The adults who, as much as we hate to admit it, don’t always have the best interests of their children at heart. And what’s more, now the conservative Republicans care about people with disabilities, but it’s only when they’re trying to push a different marginalized group off the net. However, as soon as we try to do something as simple as mandating wheelchair ramps for all government buildings, they say “we don’t have the money for that!”. Okay, since obviously you don’t understand basic common sense Mr. Conservative, let me explain this for you: let’s say that KOSA will be fully enforced on every single website out of the over 1 BILLION that currently exist. Let’s say that about half of those comply fully willingly with KOSA, just for the benefit of the doubt. That still lives 500 million noncompliant websites. Let’s say that with legal proceedings and other costs, it would cost 500 dollars in USD per website to bring those websites into compliance. It would cost 250 BILLION dollars in USD to bring 500 million websites into compliance. Now let’s do some math on the wheelchair ramp problem, I’ll use small businesses as an example, since that’s the main subject of complaints on this topic. There are 33,185,550 small businesses registered in the United States. With the average cost per linear foot of concrete ramp being 225 dollars in USD, and saying that every small business has 2 doors that need ramps that are 1 linear foot, that means that every small business would have to pay 450 dollars in USD to make their businesses accessible. Every 3-5 years, you’ll want to reseal that concrete, costing about 3-5 dollars in USD per square foot. That means that a one time expense of 450 dollars to build the original ramps (on average, grossly oversimplified, but you get it), with an recurring cost every 3-5 years of a mere 6-10 dollars in USD. It would cost 4e-9% of what it would cost to enforce KOSA to make every registered small business in the US accessible. That is less than 1% of the money it would cost to enforce KOSA.

This bill would also enforce a strict “no horny” policy on damn near every website that you can think of. And as much as we like to demonize and vilify them, sex workers, porn actors, and hentai artists are people too, and some of them make a living off what they do. By enacting KOSA, you are driving the lives of more than 2 million people (about the population of Nebraska) into the dirt. KOSA places the value of a child’s innocence over those lives. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely against child pornography and exposing small children to porn, but we shouldn’t lock down everyone's access to explicit content to preserve 22.1% of the US population’s childlike innocence. KOSA also can lock those children into abusive and dangerous conditions and make the lives of orphans a living hell. By giving the parents of minors total control over their child’s account, you are allowing them to lock down their lives, and expose these children to, at best, harmful misinformation, extremism, and general naivety, and at worst, physical abuse and/or death. That’s another 600,000 lives ground into the dirt under the boot of “safety”. And that little bit about “parens patrie”? That basically means that if you can’t defend yourself (i.e. are homeless, an orphan, etc.), the government is your parent now. Growing up with a faceless, nameless entity in place of any parental figure is NOT a healthy way for a child to live. Again, that’s another 2,823,104 human beings crushed by KOSA. In total, out of just the three categories of people I listed here, over 4,883,104 human beings, with lives, emotions, thoughts, joys and pains, are being royally screwed over by this absolutely horrid bill.

We as a society are better than this. Come on people. What memo did I miss that decided that we only need equality for some people? Instead of bickering amongst ourselves like children, we should work together and solve our problems! Isn’t that what we all want!? But no, instead we fight over our inviolable rights as human beings like toddlers over a shovel in the sandbox, instead of behaving like civilized people. And what’s worse, it paints anyone who doesn’t fit the perfect ideal of an American citizen in shades of evil, demonizing and alienating them even more than they already are. What the hell are we doing here? Instead of waving our bureaucracy around, we should get off the chair and do something about it. How many times have we done something without taking a risk? That’s right, NEVER.

If we claim to be champions of equality, yet only desire it for ourselves, we are just as bad as those whose actions we decry. So please, dear reader, I beg of you. Stop KOSA, stop censorship, stop tyranny if you value this world at all.

#fuck kosa #stop kosa #kosa #abuse #danger #politics #American politics

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