#Sorry for the lack of posts Ive been both busy and my life has been hell and my mental health is in shambles so I have a hard time creating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

piduai · 3 years

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what do you like or dislike about living in japan? i'm half myself, and ive never really lived there, and i always wonder how hard it would be to navigate living and working there, as someone who is a foreigner to the system (sorry if this comes up as rude...)

i like how neat and organized and effective everything is, i like the clean streets, i like the trains that are always on time and how accessible the train system across the whole country is, i like the busy train stations, i like the blood orange of the torii gates, i like that people get into an orderly line when boarding a bus, i like the spotless condition in the free toilets in convenience stores and how they’re everywhere, i like that all bureaucratic processes are causal, i like that people in the service and other industries are never rude to you, i like the bidets, i like the pretty packaging on most things, i like that selling subpar goods is unheard of, i like the starbucks seasonals, i like that vending machines are everywhere, i like that everything comes with a very detailed and comprehensive how to use guide be it a product, a service, a process or a task, i like that i don’t feel unsafe on the streets, i like that people don’t smoke while walking, i like that there’s no littering, i like the orange trees, i like the amount of shops, places and activities you can go to, i like sakura in bloom, i like the view of the mountains in small towns, i like the pebble paved gardens by traditional houses, i like amazon prime, i like that everything has a designated place, i like the cafes with neatly arranged beige tables, i like that everyone keeps quiet on public transportation, i like that people who have been brought up in safety and economic security feel lax enough to leave their phones on the table when they go to use the bathroom, i like hydrangea blooming in june and manjusaka blooming in october, i like that nobody robs the passed out drunks on sunday mornings in the middle of shinjuku, i like the trust system of leaving 100 yen when you draw the omikuji, i like the amount of shiba dogs i see on the street and how their owners let me pet them, i like a lot of other stuff. when i say that i love japan i always think of small, trivial things in daily life rather than general big ones (which i like too!) like a big economy or a good infrastructure. i grew up in a post-soviet country in poverty and abuse where mcdonalds was a luxury, bribes were not only normal but expected and encouraged, people are aggressive, poor, unhappy, close-minded and suspicious, so it’s all a matter of comparison. a lot of the things that westerners may take for granted are marvelous to me. another thing is that i chose japan specifically because it’s a secluded island difficult to reach so i could escape my family and give them no opportunities to haunt me. they know nothing about my life and can not do anything to me while i’m here.

what i don’t like is mostly small things too. fruit is unreasonably expensive, the shift of going from, say, 100 yen for 1 kg of peaches to 500 yen for 1 peach still hits me hard, i love fruit and being unable to have it often greatly annoys me. a lot of foods that i consider staple are overpriced in general, cheese is expensive as fuck and tastes like shit, the milk is weird, the bread and the chocolate are absolutely disgusting, bruh THE PIZZA is both wildly overpriced AND tastes absolutely repulsive... i think it’s mostly food lol i do miss the cuisine from home and so did every single other foreigner i knew who stayed here for longer than 2 months. i think that no matter how much you love a foreign food you’ll always long for the stuff that you were eating your whole life, that’s just how humans are... what else. i don’t wanna talk about work culture, hierarchical law, cultural misogyny, nationalism, overwhelming amount of prostitution and pedophilia, those are heavy subjects that all require contextualizing. there are a lot of small things that annoy me i am sure but i prefer to just not focus on them so i forget about them unless i have to confront them. oh and the summer heat and humidity, summers in japan are fucking BRUTAL as all fuck.

immigration is a difficult process that requires sacrifice and putting up with certain things you don’t want to put up with regardless of the place. at the end of the day an immigrant will always be an outsider and a different kind of person, even if completely naturalized. i don’t know where you live, but if you were born in the global west and don’t need to go through the hardships of moving countries in order to chase a better life, i’d be counting my blessings. i’ll always be envious of people who were lucky enough to be born somewhere where the rest of the world wishes their children could move to.

also i don’t want to be discouraging but every single halfie i’ve met who has lived in the west expressed a desire to go back, like not a single exception. they like visiting but they definitely preferred their lives in europe/the us/oz. the experiences of complete foreigners and half-japanese people are very, very different. halfies always seem to be in a transcendent place, if they don’t look foreign enough they don’t get the automatic special treatment that the foreigners get, they’re judged more harshly if their japanese is lacking or they mess up at something, but they’re still considered _foreign_, not part of the whole, outsiders. on the other hand they can pass as locals and get the privileges that come with that. difficult situation. as i said i’ve never met one who would be like ‘actually i like life here much more’, they always wanted to go back. at the end of the day japan is very much a conservative, traditionalist, rigid, patriarchal society with a lot of corporate abuse, if you’re like me and grew up in the same climate this whole thing isn’t new, but if you’re a westerner and grew up used to your human dignity and rights being respected and having individual freedom, it can very much feel like a downgrade.

#me: violet we're DEFINITELY keeping it short and concise this time ok? you can do it i believe in you #me when i'm finished writing and looking at the amount: hm.#anon

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cosmicbash · 4 years

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Hey, So I'm having a bad week and would really like an outed Kells and Em fic, it could be as angsty or fluffy as you want, I just need a happy ending. A little joy from a situation like that would be really nice right now, Thanks P.S. I've been reading your writing for a while and I think they're really great!! I hope you keep having Inspiration to do so!!!

Sorry I'm so late replying to this!! Ive had a shitty busy week myself and i feel horrible its taken me so long!!

I feel like instagram would be Em and Kelly's downfall. Just because the younger rapper is constantly on it, posting little snippets to interact with his fans, going Live, and of course posting pictures.

Slip ups are inevitable once he and Marshall start spending more and more time together.

Because Colson can't just cut back, when he does that fans start speculating. Questioning why exactly he's suddenly getting more secretive or searching through what he does share with a fine tooth comb to spot a new mystery girlfriend.

So Colson continues posting away on instagram and filming his lives, even when he and Marshall are together. Ignoring the headshakes and looks the older rapper shoots his way everytime he's on live laughing it up.

At first it's awkward, Marshall and him keep alternating who's going to duck into the bathroom or step out for coffee. But eventually they get used to it and comfortable enough that Colson can walk around their hotel room filming while Marshall naps on the couch.

The blonde even gets cheeky enough to start teasing his partner, like snapping photos of their shared brunches, or taking after sex selfies that always get Marshall hiding under the blankets or kicking him.

Really Colson should have seen it coming. You can only fly so close to the sun before you get burned afterall.

The mistakes start piling up soon enough.

Marshall accidentally yelling to ask him something when he's recording a live, Colson walking a bit too close to the couch and flashing the hoodie clad rappers back, the bottom of Marshall's AA necklace in the back of a breakfast shot, and more minor incidents that branch out from there.

At first Colson can just brush the unfamilar voice and thankfully covered up body as one of his assitants or friends. But as soon as that necklace peek gets out the internet does its thing and speculation over a possible collab strikes up.

The assumption being he gave everyone the glimpse on purpose.

Of course he's relieved the public isn't immediately jumping to the crazy possibility of them banging. Even though thats exactly what theyre doing. But him and Marshall AREN'T actually making any music together, and neither of them has publicly squashed their beef. Afterall, what better cover than pretending to still hate eachother?

But now that's all out the window. Colson's lack of an immediate excuse and rapid deletion of the photo just convincing the media their theories are correct.

Paul is of course furious, reaming both of them out over the phone about how they better get on a track together or figure out some new cover. And Diddy, well Diddy rarely comes off his self made throne to speak to Colson, let alone acknowledge most of his success, but the rapper actually does inquire to him about the whole spectacle. And Colson can't help but find himself wishing he had a guy like Paul who knew about them and could just simply yell at him because he still has no idea what to even say.

They settle on quiet ambiguous statements from their labels about how the two of them are working towards mending their beef and that a collaboration isn't exactly out of the question at this moment.

It works. For about a month or two, mostly due to them being apart yet again. The major hype dies down and Colson avoids any and all questions relating to Marshall in his lives and on twitter. The two of them are able to breathe a sigh of relief as temporary as it may be.

Until the next time they make time to see eachother. Colson's got a small charity event in Detroit that he plans on using as an excuse to linger around the city and steal some much needed time with his secret boyfriend.

Of course all eyes are on them yet again, questioning whether the young rapper might also be stopping in to work in some music with his rival.

With paparazzi tailing him more than ever it's impossible for him to just go to Marshall's place like he'd planned. Instead forcing him into renting a suite and wasting most of the day stressing over just how the hell he's supposed to sneak Marshall in with the bastards sitting outside the building like hawks. The other rapper isn't exactly helping either, just sending his usual cryptic texts telling Colson not worry about it but never expanding on what his plan is either.

By the time the blonde finally finishes his busy day and drags himself back to the room he has fully accepted that their rendezvous is not going to happen. Marshall had stopped texting him more than two hours ago and he wasn't about to act even more like a spoiled child by blowing the man's phone up. Colson's just given up. He can't even muster the energy to give the paparazzi outside his hotel more then an annoyed comment about how his life doesn't revolve around collaborations and the finger before slipping inside.

Marshall's presence in his hotel room, already stripped down to his night tee and briefs almost looks like a mirage. But when he shuts the door and crosses the room to bury his face in the other man's neck he smells like ivory soap and that woodsy beard oil the blonde bought him and Colson can't help but hug him closer.

He's so relieved to see him he doesn't even snark back at Marshall's muffled comment that he looks like shit.

The moment is sweet and Colson honestly should have realized it was just the calm before the storm but he's too caught up in complaining about the media and basking in his partner's soft agreements to care.

Before taking off to take his shower he hands Marshall over his phone, suggesting the brunette look through the mess his instragram comment section has become, all the questions and posts he's been tagged in over that little picture and their statements. Because why not? They would inevitably end up laying against eachother in bed scrolling through them all together anyway, at least this way Marshall can get a headstart.

And Marshall does actually swipe through them for a bit, spending more time admiring some of his partners pretty posts than he does reading the never ending stream of comments. The rapper rarely gets on the app himself except to post the occasional merch drop and promo. Social media isn't his forte, and it's not like he could follow Colson's account anyway. Navigating the app and searching for his boyfriends account was too much work when he could just asks for selfies over text.

Thats why when Marshall finishes his browsing and begins backing out of a post back to Colson's homepage he doesn't even care to pay much attention to what he's tapping. The flash of black and loading wheel that lights up the screen completely missed when he tosses it across the bed in lieu of playing around on his own phone.

The livestream he accidentally starts mainly films a blank ceiling through the rest of Colson's shower. The occasional creak and shift on the bed from Marshall's weight and blare of music from his own phones speakers all anyone tuning in can hear.

It doesn't take a brain surgeon for fans to realize the Live has been started unknowingly, but thats not going to stop any of them from filing in.

Maybe if Colson hadn't set his phone to silent the string of text messages might have alerted Marshall to his mistake. But the older rapper relaxes back on the bed less than a foot away blissfully unaware until Colson finally exits the bathroom.

Neither of them notice the phone when Marshall sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, his body briefly flickering past the frame. They don't see the explosion of comments flying past the screen while they talk and Colson shoves the other man back onto the bed again. Bouncing the phone high enough to almost flip it if fate didn't decide to just scoot it closer to their tangling bodies.

Colson's whole upper body and face is in frame from then on. His cheeks flushed and smile cocky while he straddles his unseen partner. Marshall's fingertips peeking onto the screen where they're tickling the skin covering his ribs.

Its not until after Marshall's sat back up and begun peppering kisses down the front of his throat that he finally catches sight of his half blanket covered phone. An amused accusation about the other rapper trying to sneakily film them prompting Marshall to scoff and reach out for it.

"Probably just the app, shits always opening up to the camera on my phone-"

The rush of comments speeding past the screen and the unmistakeable red dot next to LIVE has Marshall freezing. His wide eyed face fully on screen for 10 seconds before Colson finally pries the phone from his hands to see whats got him so spooked.

Instead of panic, anger is what rushes through Colson's veins. A slew of curses leaving his mouth, before he finally manages to end the live. Phone promptly flying out of his hand against the wall afterwards.

The blonde wants to scream and thrash around. And thats what he does, fingers tearimg at his hair in frustration.

It takes Marshall's fingers softly prying them down for Colson to finally open his eyes again. The utterly terrified look on his partner's face chasing away his residual rage. "Fuck Colson I'm sorry-" its not the first time he's heard Marshall apologize, but it is the first time the man has ever done it while looking so scared of his response.

All the months he'd spent dreaming about his rival making such an expression have nothing on the real thing. And that smug powerful feeling he'd imagined was completely absent now. Just an uncomfortable knot seizing up his chest in it's place.

"I'm not--" his own voice feels tight. Tears threatening to bubble up in his eyes while the reality of the whole situation continues to wash over him. "I'm not mad at you, alright?"

He's mad at the media, at his fans, the rap industry, everything that makes him feel like this little slip up and intimate moment of theirs going viral will ruin their lives.

Colson's sick of hiding who he is and who he's with. Its utter bullshit. Its 2019 for chrissakes, who gives a shit who's banging who? They both make bad ass music either way and liking dick shouldn't change that.

Pushing up off of Marshall, Colson moves to climb off the bed. His hopefully not smashed phone across the room his current focus. But the older rapper snags his wrist and wont let him take more than one step.

And thats when Colson realizes just why Marshall looks so terrified. The man's worried that this is it, that he's going to just leave.

Run away from their problems and abandon the relationship they've been cultivating. Just go full scorched earth.

And that hurts.

So instead the blonde softens his expression and climbs back into bed, onto the other man's lap to hug him tightly. "Fuck Marsh--" He's not about to let the media ruin another relationship. "I love you."

The responding hug is so tight it hurts but Colson doesn't stop. "I fucking love you."

They're falling back onto the bed, legs tangling and Colson's teeth grinding while he rubs his face along the older rapper's shoulder. "I love you"

He doesn't even know what else to say. Now that the words are out it's all his tongue can shape.

"Colson-" Marshall's warm palms are cupping his face, pulling him back so they can stare at eachother

"I love you-" that one hurts the most, maybe because they're eye to eye and just looking at Marshall's soft expression and the possibility of losing it makes him want to crumble. "Please-"

He chokes back a wet sound in the back of his throat before they kiss. Pressing as close as he can, practically trying to glue their mouths together permanently.

Marshall's afraid to lose him just as much. They're idiots for ever thinking it might be a possibilility.

The media can get blown, and so can the industry and their so called fans. The cats out of the bag now and theirs no turning back. If they don't like them together than tough shit. They've both dragged themselves up out of the pits before, this will be no different.

Except, this time they have eachother to lean on.

"I love you to you cornball."

(((Ffffff this sat in my drafts cuz I got distracted by work and life. Im so fucking sorry anon!!!)))

((Also! Thank you anon! For the compliments! Im glad you enjoy my works!))

#emgk #ehhh i dunno where this went #sorry if its not great #been real distracted and busy with work lately #but i hope you can still enjoy it #prompts #asks #i love asks

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captainscanadian · 5 years

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Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Summary: Doctor!Bucky has a day off but instead of leaving the hospital to go home, he decided to spend it at the bedside of the woman he loves.

Word Count: 4592

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Bucky x Platonic!Nurse!Wanda, mentions of Steve, Sam, Natasha & Sharon as minor characters

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay

A/N: Doctor!Bucky is my guilty pleasure.But I have more Bucky AUs and a Chris Beck one-shot coming soon!

It was the hint of orange against the dark blue sky that marked the start of dawn. As Dr. James Barnes found himself awakening from his slumber, he rubbed his eyes to look up at the pasty white ceiling of the dimly lit on call room where he had taken refuge after his ten-hour surgery. Working long shifts that typically lasted twelve to fifty consecutive hours depending on the circumstances had become a routine for him. Although he did appreciate taking a day or two off once he had reached his weekly limit, he could not get himself to go home that night. His lack of sleep, combined with his aching limbs as a result of being on his feet for almost a whole day, meant that he could not even drive home. He had no choice but to stay within the premises for the night.

As he climbed out of bed, he retrieved his navy blue scrub shirt from the tiled floor of the on call room and shrugged it on, rubbing his eyes again as he let out another yawn. He ran his fingers through his jet black mane, noticing that a few strands of his hair were still partially wet. He had found some time for a quick shower before he had made it to the on call room, but he had just been too lazy to dry his hair. He tucked a few loose strands behind his ear before making the bed. It took him a moment to be completely rid of his fatigue and he remembered the beeping sound that had woken him up. His picked up his pager that rested upon the nightstand where he had left it before he had crashed a few hours ago.

Upon checking his page from Wanda, his most-trusted nurse, Bucky picked up the phone and dialed the extension code for the nurse's desk at the post-op ward. "Hey, this is Dr. Barnes returning a page." He said, groggily, to which he earned chuckle from his favorite nurse.

"You told me to page you when Y/N wakes up, Barnes." She told him. "Did you forget?"

"... Right. Sorry, I'm still half asleep." He let out another yawn. He had completely forgotten that your surgery had been last night. He had been planning to sit in the gallery and watch Dr. Romanoff operate on you once his shift had come to an end. But with an unexpected emergency pulling him away for the night, he had only managed to get a glimpse of you in post-op by the time he had returned from his surgery. Had Wanda not urged him to get some shut-eye while he awaited for you to wake, Bucky would have probably dropped to the floor. He was too exhausted to even be worried about you, it seemed. But hearing Wanda mention your name had fully woken him up in an instant. "I-I-I'll be over there in a moment..." He said between a yawn, clipping his pager onto his waistband before slipping into his black tennis shoes.

"I figured. There's a cup of coffee here at the nurses' desk with your name on it. I'll see you when you get here, Doc." With that, she hung up.

It took Bucky a few moments to gather himself before he walked out of the on call room. Perhaps, it was a good thing that he had the next two days off from work, thanks to his overworking nature that had resulted in him reaching his weekly limit of hours he could work. If he were in the OR at this state though, he probably could not even tell the difference between a vein and an artery if he wanted to. It was for the best. If anything, he needed to be forced to take the time off. Plus, he was planning on spending his time off by your bedside if you needed him. It was just an added bonus.

He jogged his way up the stairs to the nurse's desk on the post-op floor. "Wanda, you're a godsend." He picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip, feeling the bitterness of the dark roast seep down his throat, followed by the urge to spit out this concoction that was the farthest away in taste from his usual vanilla bean latte. "Never mind. Actually, I take that back. You're not a godsend. This coffee is absolutely disgusting and it's such a disgrace to humankind."

The perky nurse let out a laugh from behind her computer screen before shaking her head. "Don't you dare be such an ungrateful little shit, Barnes."

He rolled his eyes as he set down the coffee. "Don't you dare speak to your boss like that."

"Why? What are you going to do? Fire me?" She asked as she looked up at him, her eyebrow raised.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully at her attitude, even though he felt like it was way too early in the morning for them to be bickering like this. Even though Wanda was only a nurse, the two of them had known each other since he had been a pre-med student at NYU. Aside from Steve, whom he had known since childhood, and Sam, whom he had only met while they were both residents, Wanda was someone who had become a younger sister to him. Having lost her own brother at a young age, she too had accepted him as a brotherly figure over the years. Their constant sibling-like banter was just proof of how close they really were and almost everyone at this hospital knew about their bond. "Or I could trade you with Sam for Sharon."

"Asshole." Wanda rolled her eyes back at him before taking back his coffee, taking a sip of it and watching his face fill with disgust.

He leaned against the desk, shifting his weight from his left leg to his right. "Has anyone from her family been down to see her yet?" The look in his eyes filled with concern and the tone of his voice was softer than it was before, it was hushed. For some reason, a part of him feared that the others might hear him and come to know of his deepest secret, his love for the woman he worked with.

She shook her head as she turned away from the screen once again. "Not that I know of. I did notice her mother go in and out of her father's room until visiting hours were over. And then I saw her sitting at the lobby when I went down to get coffee. She seems to be sticking around the premises but I don't think she intends to go and see her daughter."

He let out a sigh of disbelief before shaking his head. A part of him knew that he should not be pissed at your situation; it was none of his business. But he could not help but be angered by the way your family was treating you after what you had just done for them. Perhaps, it was because he valued human life so much that he respected your sacrifice, or it was because he valued you as a human being much more than they did. But Bucky was not going to let anyone else treat you like shit. He was sure of it. "Unbelievable."

Wanda raised her eyebrow at him. "Please don't tell me that you're going to go out there and yell at them? This is none of your business." If there was anyone in this entire hospital who knew about Dr. James Barnes' feelings for Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, it was her. "And I don't think she would want that."

"No, I know that but I have to say... they're the ungrateful shits here, Wanda."

"It was Y/N's choice, Bucky." She reminded him. "It was her body and her choice."

"You know, she said those exact words to me when I told her not to risk her own life to save the man who destroyed her childhood. She sounded just like Steve that I wasn't even surprised. He taught her well." He laughed at the thought of how his attempt to talk you out of donating your liver had been defeated. "She's better than any of us could ever be."

Though you hadn't been as close to him as you were with Steve, Bucky had taken a strong liking to you over the last few years. You had first come to this Brooklyn hospital to take up a fellowship in cardio-thoracic surgery with the incomparable Dr. Steve Rogers. As you were a career-driven woman who was extremely focused on the job, Steve had taken you under his wing and taught you everything you knew as a surgeon and as a human being.

"She's a natural, Buck." He would beam with pride for his young fellow while he drank with his best friend after a hard day's work. "You would love her." Bucky and Steve had been best friends since childhood. They had graduated high school together before going off to NYU for pre-med. After being neck and neck with their MCAT scores, they had also attended Columbia Medical School together. They had survived the competitive stage of residency and trained together under the best cardio-thoracic surgeon in the country, only to return to their hometown of Brooklyn and work side by side. They were practically inseparable.

If Steve had only known how right he had been back then about how much Bucky would love you if he ever met you, now that Bucky had realized it himself. You had first met him at one of the worst points during your fellowship, having lost your first patient while you had been training under Dr. Rogers. It had been Steve's decision to let you fly solo for that particular procedure, but things had slipped out of your hand in the matter of a millisecond. You found yourself sobbing in an on call room and beating yourself up for it. A life was lost on your operating table and you had taken an oath to do no harm. It crushed you when you realized that you had disappointed your mentor, after all those sleepless nights of studying so hard to get yourself where you were.

It wasn't easy for you to be alone from such a young age, especially with no support from your family and no real friends. You had lived on your own since you were eighteen years old, having fled your abusive home to find yourself a safe place here in New York. After your impeccable grades had managed to get you into NYU with a scholarship, you had pushed yourself through the next eight years of schooling while you worked two part-time jobs to make ends meet. Your mother hadn't even bothered to show up at your medical school graduation even though you had sent her an invite, not that it really mattered to you anyways. You had come to terms with the fact that you were all that you had. You had built a life for yourself and a career that was going to be your backbone; you didn't need people, you thought. But that night, even your career had seemed to be letting you down.

That was when you had met Dr. Barnes, the next best heart surgeon in the hospital, who had managed to scramble into the nearest on call room that night for a power nap, only to run into your tearful self. He had asked you what was wrong and you had poured your heart out to him. If you had been so worried about disappointing Steve, you might as well ask Steve's best friend about how to handle it. As it turned out, he somehow possessed a different approach to teaching than his best friend. He claimed that Steve shouldn't have let you take on that patient until you had been prepared for what you had now missed, but he understood the reason why he had done that. After all, Dr. Rogers did have a reputation for being a little unconventional in his teaching. It was one of the reasons why you had been determined to work with him in the first place. "I feel like I failed him." You had told Dr. Barnes in the midst of tears. "I don't think I'm good enough for this, Dr. Barnes."

"We've all been there, Dr. Y/L/N. We've all lost patients. We've all blamed ourselves for the things that are always beyond our hands. There are some things that we as doctors can't control. Steve didn't get where he is without losing a single patient during all those years of training. I didn't get where I am without losing a patient. We are not perfect. We're human. You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened. You should learn from it and be better the next time around. Steve can be a jerk sometimes, I can tell you that. But if he told you to walk it off, you walk it off." He had told you, making you chuckle through your tears. "I'm not going to tell you that the road ahead is easy. But you signed up for this so you have to deal with the good and the bad."

"I don't think I can ever be as good as him." You admitted, sighing in defeat. "I don't think I could ever be as good as you."

"Then you should probably aim to be better than us."

Looking back at that conversation now, Bucky couldn't help but realize that you had in fact been better than the two of them. The years had managed to mold your extremely formal mentor-student relationships with them into a much more genuine and beautiful friendship. Steve had become family to you, after having learned of your own familial situation. With his friendship came your friendship with Bucky, Wanda, Sam and Natasha. They were your family now, not the people that you shared blood with. Your biological family hadn't been the best but the family that you had found for yourself in New York were much better.

When you had learned from Natasha that her recent patient with liver failure happened to be your alcoholic father whom you had fled all those years ago, a part of you refused to remember that you even had actual parents. But you were human, after all, and you were bound by your emotions. Looking into his file, you had come across the fact that he was going to be put on the donor list. As they had not found a match for a liver transplant, you had volunteered to get tested and found that you were a perfect match. Your mother had been selfish enough to save her husband's life that she had accepted it. Dr. Romanoff stood by what was best for her patient as any doctor should be. Sam and Steve had respected your choice, commending you for coming forward to save the life of the man who had once ruined yours.

But Bucky had somehow tried to talk you out of the surgery, fearing that it would put you in danger. A liver transplant was no joke. Not to mention that he did not agree with the fact that you were willing to give a piece of your own flesh to save your father's life, expecting absolutely nothing in return. But you had convinced him that as a doctor and as a human being, this was the right thing to do. Even though Natasha was a great general surgeon, he did not undermine her expertise. He was just worried that something inevitable might take you from him during this surgery. He realized that he had loved you so much that he did not want to lose you. But thankfully, the things beyond the control of a doctor that he had once told you about did not get in the way when your own life was on the table.

The beeping sound of the cardiac monitor was a constant reminder that you had survived this surgery. Not that you even doubted Natasha's ability to perform a partial liver transplant. She was definitely the best general surgeon at the hospital. But your fear of the unforeseeable factor had been present ever since you had agreed for this surgery. Even when the anesthesia had been administered and you found yourself slowly losing your consciousness, you had hoped that you would wake up from this on the flip side of the eight hour procedure.

Wanda had been at your bedside the moment you opened your eyes. You had been thankful to see a familiar face, not that any of the hospital staff were unfamiliar to you. But a part of you had expected that you wouldn't be waking up to your mother or an extended family member sitting next to your bed in anticipation of you waking up. Clearly, you had been right about that. Despite the fact that you had now saved your father's life, they could not be bothered about your well-being. They never were,

Being alone as a doctor was not that much of big deal but being alone as a patient sucked. Not only did you have to deal with the nerves before the surgery and the physical pain after it, but there was also the two month recovery time that could not be spent alone in bed rest. You did not know how you were going to survive that, but as you were used to being alone for all these years, you need not to worry. You'll cross that bridge when you get to it.

After checking your vitals and bringing you a cup of water to ail the dryness in your throat, the nurse had left the room. You had asked her about your father's post-op condition but she hadn't said anything about that. It made you worry for the slightest. What if he had suffered the complications of this operation? What if his body had rejected the piece of yours that you had voluntarily given up? That would have made your sacrifice so pointless. You did care about him, even though he had been so horrible to you. It wasn't because he was your father. You had stopped thinking of him that way years ago. But you were a doctor and he was a patient. You had what it took to save his life, ironically which was his blood, and you had made the call to step up.

The sound of footsteps against the cold tiled floor of your hospital room made you gently turn your head towards the door. Wanda had adjusted your bed to help you sit upright but it was still a little uncomfortable for you. Now that the anesthesia had slowly worn off, you were starting to feel some pain in your side. But your chapped lips curled into a weak smile when your eyes landed on the handsome doctor who had just entered the room.

His hair was not as perfectly coiffed as you remembered but it was still as silky as you remembered, the dark strands glistening against the light of the morning sky. His ocean blue eyes looked calm and a lot less blood shot than you were used to. The Dr. Barnes you knew and loved was a sleep deprived mess who cared more about his patients than his own health. But the man who stood before you looked refreshing, like coming up for a breath of fresh air just before you thought you were going to drown. You felt safe in his presence, you had always did.

"I wasn't expecting any visitors at this time and I certainly wasn't expecting a visit from you." You managed to croak out, taking another sip of the water that the nurse had handed you earlier. "But I'll take it."

"Why would that be the case, Dr. Y/L/N?" The man chuckled as he pulled up a chair next to your bed and sat down. You noticed that he was still wearing scrubs and it made you wonder. Had he been working all night and decide to stop by before he headed home? Or had he just arrived at the hospital for the start of his shift and decided to check on you before he was to begin his morning rounds?

"Because I went against your advice for the first time ever. You told me not to go through with this transplant and I did." You reminded him as you sighed. "I just assumed that you would be mad at me."

"Well, it was your choice." He just shrugged. "And now that I think of it, you may or may not have followed another one of my advice."

You let out a soft chuckle, followed by a wince at the pain that you felt in your side, now that the anesthesia was finally wearing off. You knew that you had the option to control your own pain medications through IV but you did not want to fall back into a deep sleep, especially not when James Barnes was sitting before you. "I thought you hated me." You admitted. "You didn't even come down to see me off before the surgery. Rogers was there, even Wilson and Carter. But you were nowhere to be seen."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't be there. I wanted to. But a trauma came in, flail chest, I had to go down for a consult and I was held up." He replied as he reached forward to take your hand in his. "How are you feeling?"

You gave him a nod as you smiled weakly, feeling his gentle grip against your hand. "For someone who's missing a pound of flesh, it's not as painful as I thought it would be. But then there are also several tubes attached to my body and that's not the most attractive thing on the planet." A part of you was worried that you probably looked like a disaster. Along with the IV that was pumping fluids and medications into your body to keep you hydrated, you also had a catheter in your bladder to prevent you from having to get up to go to the bathroom, and several drainage tubes in your abdomen to drain the blood and bile from your body after the surgery. A part of you was embarrassed to have Bucky see you like this. Despite the fact that he was a doctor, who was definitely used to dealing with much worse on a daily basis, you couldn't help but wonder if he thought you were unattractive like this.

"A pound of flesh?" He asked, giving you a confused look.

"Shakespeare." You clarified, wincing again at the pain. A part of you wanted to up the dose on your pain medications. But you feared the risk of the nausea and other complications and side effects that would follow. "The Merchant of Venice takes out a loan and promises to pay Shylock a pound of his flesh... if he doesn't pay back the money on time. It's a good play. You should read it sometime, you know... if you ever find yourself with a day off from cutting into people's broken hearts." You fought the urge to laugh but you failed, feeling the pain in your abdomen only growing by the second.

"Oh, I don't think I could be able to handle Shakespeare. I wasn't the best student in my English class and I was more into the science side of things."

"And you have the medical degree to prove it." You stated with another laugh, only to wince again at the pain which continued to get worse. "Oh fuck..."

Bucky leaned over in his chair to reach for your PCA remote on the bed side, his eyes filled with worry as his lips curled into a frown. He looked over at you for approval. "Do you want me to do it?"

"I thought I could avoid having to pump all those drugs into my body but..." You paused and bit down on your bottom lip as the pain took over your entire abdomen, making you hold your breath for a moment in hopes that it would dissolve. But it only got worse. "Please..?" You shut your eyes as the tears pricked at your eyes, hoping that Dr. Barnes wouldn't notice them stream down your face.

"Y/N..." He hated to see you in pain. "Are you sure you don't want me to page Romanoff?"

"Oh shit, that hurts like a bitch." You felt him squeeze your hand before pushing the button for another dose of pain meds to pump through your IV. "No, no... it's fine. She'll be down here for rounds anyways. Don't bother rushing her to get to work this early in the morning. She's not a morning person and would probably kill you. Just give me the meds. I should be fine."

He nodded as he watched the computer screen, making sure the medication was being pumped into your IV as it was supposed to. "If you start feel drowsy, you just let me know, okay? Don't try to fight it. You lost a lot of fluids. You need to rest." He still hadn't let go of your hand and you squeezed it tightly as you waited for the pain meds to kick in.

"Don't you have rounds? You should go. I should be fine once the drugs kick in." You loosened your grip on his hand wanting to let him go back to work, but he still held onto it, never letting go.

"I went over my weekly limit and I got the next two days off. I just thought I might stick around so that you won't be alone." He told you, making the pain stricken tears finally stream down your face. You couldn't hold them in anymore. Perhaps it was the medication or the emotional trauma that came with having your abdomen cut open. You felt stupid. He had been right. Your family did not care about you. You were alone. He was only here because he pitied you.

"You don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

As you began to feel drowsy, your mind refused to believe what you were hearing. Did Dr. Barnes just say that he wanted to spend his day off by your bedside? You shut your eyes, trying not to lose your consciousness as you slowly felt the pain begin to numb away. Bucky still hadn't let your hand go as he sat down next to you. "You were right, Dr. Barnes." You whispered but you weren't sure if he had heard you. Perhaps, you had just thought it in your head and he hadn't heard you. But he did not respond for a moment.

"Well, you're better than me, doll." You heard him whisper and then you felt his warm breath against your eyelids. It took you a moment for you to realize that he was leaning over your bed. You then felt his free hand stroking your hair before your felt his soft lips press gently against your forehead. You felt it all, the love that he had been holding in his heart for all these years. He probably thought you wouldn't have noticed. But you had.

#bucky barnes x reader #buck barnes au #doctor!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #tw abuse #tw alchoholism #tw surgery #tw needles #tw pain #tw drugs #tw hospital #aj writes #better

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benexolence · 5 years

Text

Tense (M) pt.1

CEO!Park Jimin x Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Rating = M, F (it was hard not to put fluff in, i’m too soft for chimmy)

SUMMARY: You’ve been subtly teasing your stressed-out boyfriend over the past couple of weeks, and you push him a bit too far at a company dinner, making him want to show you what it’s like to be frustrated.

Warnings: dom!jimin, daddy kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism, degradation, slight-ish possessiveness (bruh IDK), fingering

A/N: There are two parts to this fic! This was originally gonna be a oneshot but it would’ve been MONSTER to post LMFAO but I’ll post pt.2 within the next 2 weeks! Stay tuned :-) ****PART 2 IS OFFICIALLY POSTED! LINK TO PART 2 IS IN MY MASTERLIST!

Jimin had been very tense for the past couple of weeks. Being the CEO of BigHit, there was already a lot riding on him. Recently, his company bought out another company, BT21 and although this transaction would be beneficial for the future of his company, it didn’t necessarily mean that his transition would be smooth. If anything, it was putting a lot of weight on his shoulders, trying to figure out which workers to lay off or what sectors to change entirely, through the means of endless meetings, soon became excruciating. There were so many things to be done, and there wasn’t enough time in the day to complete everything. The tight pressure started to build in his shoulders and his mind as the lack of sleep from early mornings and late nights as the weeks went on. Jimin swore that he began to feel his brain melting.

It didn’t help that he start to see his love less and less. The quality free-time he’d usually spend with you decreased dramatically, turning the salacious sleepovers nearly every weekend into occasional Facetime pillow-talks that would end quickly since he’d almost immediately shut his exhausted eyes once his head hit the soft pillow. He just missed you, so much. Not being able to see you was like trying to substitute ranch for chocolate in a cake and it just didn’t work with him.

At night. Jimin is a needy boy, so destitute that the dreamland that he briefly arrived in every night was scent and taste of the juices that would fall between your thighs as you scream for him to give you more. His mind was clouded with clips of your writhing body, all nice and sweet, just for him. Jimin swore that he’d wake up to your whimpers echoing throughout his bedroom, only to find that you’re not there but his hard-on was painfully present. You couldn’t leave his mind. His lust was overflowing, and he even tried jerking off with his non-dominant hand, nothing worked.

For you, on the other hand, things were going pretty decently. You didn’t have much to complain about; you just got a raise at work, all your old friends were back in town, things were going pretty well for you. So, it was a bit amusing for you to hear all of this happening. You missed him greatly, and you longed to see him, but you were thankfully distracted by the better things happening in your life. You were worried about your boyfriend, but it’s uncommon to hear him whine for you and you felt a bit a pride when he’d tell you about how much he and his dick missed you. So to add to your amusement, you’d send some inappropriate pictures along with detailed texts of how much you desired him. When you went out with your friends, you would take a picture of yourself in a scandalous dress to rile him up a bit for the night, only to take that dress off after the image was sent, then change into something that you were a bit more comfortable in, (without him knowing of course). When Jimin was provoked in such a way, it always ended in ground-breaking sex. You still loved the fact that Jimin was a compassionate lover, it’s just that you didn’t see that dominant side of him very often and sometimes, you needed him to be a little bit rough.

Tonight was the first night that you would see Jimin after such a long time. There was a company dinner to celebrate the end of this chaos, and it was a perfect time to see you. Jimin liked to think of your presence as a gift to himself, for working himself to the bone. Both of you and him were giggling like children all day because it’s been so long and the two of you would finally fill the gnawing hole that’s been heavy on the two hearts. You wanted this night to be perfect, so you spent hours just picking and choosing the color scheme for your outfit deciding to go with a simple and sophisticated approach. Although you wanted Jimin to be the happiest tonight, you felt a throbbing need for something rough as the little devil on your shoulders convinced you to egg him on a bit. You decided to keep the egging to a slight minimum, and you went for the little black dress with a simple set of jewelry and light makeup that gave you a natural look. The dress did wonders to accentuate your curves, and you had an inkling that Jimin might go mad when he sees your outfit. It was perfect for setting off his mood, in the direction you prefer.

Jimin felt that it was crucial that he’d pick you up tonight. It was vital for him to have at least five minutes of alone time with you in the car before you two spent the next few hours with a garden of people he didn’t really care for; he’d probably only be focusing on you anyway. He was also hoping to convince you to let him sleep over for the night, already packing his things for the night because the answer will always be some form of “yes.” Jimin felt that spending these hours with you would melt away all the weight that’s been straining his body. He didn’t care if he was between your thighs or laying by your side, he just wanted to spend some time with you.

Jimin threw his overnight-bag in the backseat of his car and texted you a quick “on my way sweetheart” before rushing himself over to your apartment, almost running a few red-lights because he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t stop smiling; he was excited to see his girl after so many weeks.

It was the same way with you after you got his text, you practically had a face tattoo of a smile. You rushed to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure that you looked perfect. As you fixed yourself up in the few minutes you had left, memories of the times where Jimin left you breathless made you excited. Your cheeks became flushed with such crude thoughts led you to think of possible ideas to ensure your demise tonight.

You were pulled back to reality as you heard a knocking at your door. The excitement came back in seconds as you ran to the door and swung it open, to find Jimin looking at you with nothing but pure love. You were in awe by his choices for his appearance tonight. Jimin wore an all-black suit, without a tie, giving a bit of a casual feel. He wore a gold necklace, and he parted his hair so a bit of the center of his forehead being shown.

Both of you took a few seconds to accept the fact that both of you are together again before he quickly grabbed your arm so you’d fall into his arms. Jimin hugged you tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, you would never come back. He buried his face into your neck, and you could feel him smiling.

“I’ve missed you so much” Jimin whispered softly into your neck, leading you to giggle as his breath tickled your skin.

“But I talked to you yesterday” You chuckled softly, thinking about the Facetime call that only lasted three minutes before Jimin started snoring.

“I fell asleep! How in the world does that count?” Jimin started to swing around, with you in his arms, “Did you not miss me? Not only a little bit?”

“Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter because you’re always asleep when I try to talk to you anyway.” You say with a sassy tone before escaping his grasp to turn around and walk further into your apartment, looking to grab your purse.

“Y/N, baby please” Jimin whined as he followed behind you. You could already tell that there was a pout on his face by the tone of his voice. You found your purse, and you started to look through the bag, making sure that you had everything you needed. Before you realize it, Jimin was standing right in front of you, slightly stomping his feet. “Baby, I’m sorry for falling asleep all the time, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore me.”

Looking at his upset face, you realize that you definitely can’t be bratty right now. He’s too damn cute, and you couldn’t resist it, not after such a long time. You smile at him, “You’re lucky that I have the biggest soft spot for you. I’ll forgive you this time.” But your last few words are meaningless because you’ll always forgive him for anything, leading you to let out a chuckle.

Your laugh was cut short when Jimin suddenly cups the apples of your cheeks, looking at you with appreciation. “Seriously though, I am sorry. You don’t understand how hard it’s been for me, not being able to talk to you. I’ve missed you more than anything.”

Jimin never failed to make you feel loved. There was never a time where you felt unappreciated and unwanted by him because he always did everything in his power to make sure that those thoughts would never cross your mind. Although there has been a lack of presence in the past few weeks, there were no worries that arrived in your mind because he still tried to talk to you, even if his sleepiness won most of the time.

“It’s okay, Jimin. I know that you’ve been busy, so it’s alright. I’ve missed you too.” You spoke softly.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Jimin whispered before pulling you forward to kiss your forehead. He let go of your cheeks, only to slide his hands into yours. He pulled you towards the door, “Now, l wanna get there early so I can sit in the car and shit on the idiots that we’re gonna be near tonight.”

You laughed as the both of you left your apartment and set route to the restaurant.

The car ride was filled with nothing but laughter and joy as you both exchange memories that occurred over the past few weeks. Both you and Jimin felt absolute elation; nothing was better than being in the company of someone you love. Soon, both of you were parked outside of the restaurant, shit-talking about the coworkers that made his life an absolute nightmare over the past couple of weeks. Irritation started to seep into Jimin’s bones as the anger over their actions came to mind. You notice Jimin’s change of tone, and you felt the need to calm the fire that was growing in his mind. You moved your hand to give a calming rub on his bicep, “You don’t have to worry about it now. The past is the past, and now you can focus on the success that’s gonna be rolling your way.”

Jimin looked to your smiling face, but his eyes slowly followed the length of your dress, his pupils dilating in mixed emotions over how noticeable your legs were in the dress. Suddenly, his mind went through to all the frustration he felt with you during your absence; seeing you in such revealing attire, hearing about how much you need him, all the subtle teasing that you’ve been pulling over the past few weeks that would always leave him with an erection. All emotions came racing back to his mind and his cock, making him feel nothing but tense again. The current state of your naked legs started to tease him a bit, Why is she wearing that dress right now? To fucking spite me? God, in the very moment, he just wanted to fucking explode.

His ring-covered hand went straight for your thigh, squeezing the soft skin in a vice-grip. Your eyes went straight to his hand as you gasped at the cold feeling of his rings. You look up to Jimin’s face, only to find the irises of his eyes slowly disappearing to black, mixed with lust and vexation.

His voice comes out low when he initially speaks, “Y/N, that dress--” Jimin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves from thinking illogically. It’s just a dress. There’s nothing to it. She isn’t trying to pull anything with me. “It looks stunning on you” Jimin plants a smile on his face as he squeezes his grip on your thigh a bit harder, leaving an imprint of his rings. Momentarily, he decided that your teasing would be a topic of discussion for later that evening, it would be such bad timing to discuss something like that right now.

Although you were taken back by the quick change in emotions that you just witnessed, it still didn’t stop your stomach from doing flips from his compliment, knowing that it’s genuine. But what lingered in your mind was the reason for the sudden emotional changes, reasons that you already knew. You could see the tension in his jaw as a vein comes to the surface of his neck, which just sent electricity straight downward. You spoke, “Thank you, Jimin.” It seems as if your plan is working, you had a reassuring thought about how the subtle hints work the best. All you wanted was for him to take you in the car at that moment, you didn’t necessarily want to wait any longer.

There were a few moments of silence before Jimin’s phone buzzed. He pulled his phone out to see one of his favorite colleagues texting him.

[6:03 pm] Kim Taehyung: I know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean you and Y/N can avoid the dinner by sitting in the car until it’s over.

Confused by Taehyung’s knowledge of his location, Jimin looked up from his phone and searched from outside the window, only to find that his colleague leaning against the car parked right next to him. Jimin got out of the car to greet him, “Thank god that you and Y/N at least here with me to get through this.”

Taehyung chuckled and gave Jimin a quick side hug, “I honestly don’t know how you and I got through this past quarter. I can’t wait to sit with you and see what you do as a consequence for everyone.”

Taehyung was the CFO of the company, but also a life-saver for Jimin for the past few years. Jimin and Taehyung had been very close friends since college, and it’s been an absolute relief for Jimin to have him in the company. Taehyung took more of an emphasis on finance rather than sales, unlike Jimin; which was helpful since there was no competition in success or jealousy in career advances between them. Either way, Taehyung, and Jimin climbing up the career ladder together, eventually landing executive positions in the same corporation.

You got out of the car as well and walk over to the two boys with a smile on your face. You were happy to see Taehyung. “Taehyung! How have you been? It’s been so long!” You gave him a quick hug, and as you let go, you notice Taehyung’s lingering gaze on your legs as he takes hold on both of your hands.

“I’ve been good, Y/N! I don’t think I need to ask you how you’ve been doing since you look lovely tonight.” Taehyung smiles with a toothy grin before letting go of your hands and looking at Jimin, “You gotta be careful Jimin. You might have to keep an eye on Y/N because you don’t wanna lose a girl like her so easily.” Taehyung was always a flirty guy, but he never meant any harm, of course, he just liked to tease Jimin a bit.

Usually, Jimin would joke around about how Taehyung would never end up with anyone but his assistant, Jungkook, but right now, it was not the time for Taehyung to even glance at his girlfriend’s figure for any more seconds. Jimin needed to keep himself control, he needed to stay calm. Jimin joked with a little strain in his voice as you and him starting walking towards the restaurant, “I don’t need to keep an eye on her when you have googly eyes for your assistant. Which by the way, I know you’ve been fucking, I saw the way he looks at your ass.”

“Jungkook looks at everyone’s butt! I saw him looking at your butt the other day! Either way, he’s a man-child, and I’m nurturing him for the real world.” Taehyung raised his voice while running behind the both of you, trying to deny the truth that he’s been trying to hide from everyone.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say Tae,” You turn towards Taehyung and continued. “We’ll always love you. You don’t have to hide your love for him forever.” You chuckled as you watched Taehyung start yelling nonsense as to how he’s definitely not with Jungkook and how he definitely hasn’t seen him every night for the past three weeks.

Jimin felt a bit of relief when he heard Taehyung’s babbling and your various sayings of “it’s okay, don’t worry.” I’ll be okay. Things will be fine. He reassured himself before all the three of you entered the restaurant and started to greet coworkers.

Dinner was not fine, and things were not okay. For some fucking reason, all male eyes of Jimin’s coworkers were staring at your chest throughout the evening. Jimin swore that he saw his coworker wipe the drool off his chin from staring too long. Not only that, some damn waiter named Hoseok even started fucking flirting with you, right in front of Jimin. It seemed like every male-body who was in your presence eye-fucked you, even with Jimin’s eyes sending fire to anyone who looked lustfully towards your body. Jimin wanted to spank your ass and fuck you on the goddamn dinner table every passing moment, to show everything that you belong to him and only him.

For you, on the other hand, your plan was going smoothly. You noticed the slow transition of Jimin’s mind from neutral to sour. You saw him sending fiery stares straight ahead, losing himself in the flames of his imagination, and you couldn’t help but cheer happily in your mind. But obviously, you couldn’t display your joy to the world. You saw that he barely took a bite of his entree and you decided to act the part as the caring girlfriend for the time being. “Hey honey, is everything okay? You haven’t touched your food.”

Jimin took a deep breath before turning to you, wanting to answer your question with kindness, “Um, yeah baby. It’s alright. I’m just not that hungry right now.” He pulled a quick smile for you before moving his fiery eyes to his plate, slowing moving to eat his food on his plate.

You knew he needed a push, a slight nudge towards the fall that you so desperately needed to feel all over your body. So you decided to start a conversation with Taehyung. It seemed that the boy had a bit too much to drink and you knew that Taehyung is a lot more flirty when he’s tipsy. You spoke with a bit of prep in your voice to the buzzed man across from you, “How are you feeling tonight, Tae? It looks like you’re having a good time.”

Taehyung turned to you with a grin on his face and started to laugh, “Y/N, I always have a good time with you around.” He leaned in and continued to spoke, “Did I tell you that you look lovely tonight?”

You giggle before answering his question, “Yes you did, Tae. You don’t remember?” You reciprocated his actions and moved towards him, so it looks like you’re only focused on him.

“Well, scratch that, because you look fucking ravishing right now.” Taehyung’s baritone voice seemingly got lower than you expected.

“Taehyung!” You started to giggle, even more, exaggerating your actions, “You don’t mean that”

Taehyung leaned in even closer, “Oh darling,” His eyes looking at your body, leaving his eyes to stalk your chest. “I mean every word I’ll ever say to you.” His voice was husky, and it just leaks with danger. This is precisely what you needed. This is the push that Jimin needed.

And you were right because Jimin was fucking boiling with sheer anger. Taehyung called you “ravishing,” he fucking leaned into you, like you didn’t belong to him. And you were just sitting there, taking it. Not even acknowledging the fact that your boyfriend was sitting right next to you, watching the entire thing. Maybe you were doing this on purpose. Perhaps you actually have been fucking with him for the past few weeks. Either way, the only thing that mattered to Jimin is to show that you fucking belong to him.

Once again, you jumped in your seat as the coolness of Jimin’s rings touch gripped your thigh. You felt him squeeze your skin before his thumb starts rubbing gentle circles. You turned to him, and his eyes were trained entirely ahead, engaging a conversation with one of his coworkers. You leaned back into your seat, heavily distracted by the distance between his hand and your clothed core. You took a deep breath to relax before continuing your conversation with Taehyung, but how can you focus when his hand is subtly teasing you under the table?

“Tae, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” You spoke as your mind tried to force on the man ahead of you. But unfortunately for you, Jimin knew what you were doing so his hand decided to follow the direction of your body, sliding underneath your dress. He squeezed again, leading you to squirm slightly in your seat. You tried so hard to listen to Taehyung ramble on about how sober he is, but it felt like there was barely any oxygen in the room at the moment. You started to lean forward again, to look like you’re interested in what he has to say but as soon as you began to move, Jimin’s hand moved to your core, lightly rubbing you through your panties. You yelped in surprise, causing all eyes to move towards you.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jimin sounded so sincere, but he already knew your answer. He started rubbing you a bit harder, causing you to squirm even more in your seat. Your breaths started to shake as you realized how mortifying this situation was; everyone was staring while your boyfriend rubbed your clit in a public restaurant. But somehow, you felt exhilarated at such a display, leading to the coil to tighten in your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m f-fine.” You needed to keep your responses to a minimum. You couldn’t let anyone know the truth behind your dishonest words. You’re not fine. You’re fucking fantastic because Jimin has finally touched you, something you’ve been waiting for a long time.

“Are you sure? You sound a bit anxious.” Jimin’s fingers moved your panties to the side. His middle finger slipped inside your folds, teasing your hole.

You knew if you opened your mouth, you would start whimpering, so you nodded your head towards Jimin and threw a weary smile on your face. You looked around to find that the eyes of his coworkers were off of you now. Jimin leaned in closer to your ear and spoke, “Baby, you better fucking speak up right now, or I wouldn’t touch you for another month.”

All you wanted to do is whine and let Jimin do sinful acts to your body, but you knew that this side of Jimin wouldn’t be tame unless you listen to his words. “Yes, I’m okay Jimin.” You whispered softly.

You heard Jimin sigh, and it sounded like he was frustrated with your answer. He impulsively pushed his middle finger inside, pumping it at a slow pace. Jimin moved again to your ear, “That’s not my name tonight. Tell me, baby, what’s my name?”

His fingers were going agonizingly slow, but since your body has been so unsatisfied for the past few weeks, the pressure seemed to double. You could barely answer his question without focusing on the sharp sparks that coursing throughout your body. You don’t call Jimin anything else besides loving pet names and his actual name. What could he possibly be asking for?

Before you could think about it any further, Jimin added another finger inside you. A small mewl crawled from your mouth as you leaned towards Jimin, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I-I don’t know.” The build of your impending orgasm was growing faster, leaving your body to be shaking by his side. You were trying so hard, but it’s just so hard when everything is turning you on.

Jimin curled his two fingers to your g-spot, leading you to whine into his dress shirt. Jimin chuckled, happy to see you withering for him so quickly. His voice was stern when he started whispering again, “It seems like you’ve been missing Daddy’s fingers, huh?”

Daddy? He’s never called himself that before. Jimin has never brought that kink up but how does it matter now when he sounds so fucking hot talking to you like that? His fingers start moving faster, and your legs start shaking. He’s curling his fingers with each thrust, and the burning-pleasure is leaving your mind blank. You gotta warn him of how your end is almost near, “D-Daddy, I’m close.”

“Awh baby, you’re close? You like it when Daddy finger-fucks you under the dinner table, with everyone around us?” His words are only bringing you closer to your end, and you were struggling to keep your composure.

“Y-Yes, Daddy” Your voice was shaking, and you look up to Jimin, only to see his eyes filled with nothing but black lust.

“Of course you do. How can you not? A slut like you love everything that’s done to them. Do you even know how dirty you are?” Such a name should irritate you but god, it was sending arousal to your core, and you find yourself whining for him.

My eyes immediately shut in pure paradise, and you started to squirm again when Jimin’s thumb landed back on your naked clit. Jimin’s lips glaze your ear, “Cum for me, right now.”

His tone of voice was deep and stern, which led you to lose control. Your hands quickly covered your face in order to conceal the moans that escaped your mouth as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Jimin continues to rub your swollen nub as you ride it out. You were trying to catch your breath as your face turned away from your hands to Jimin, only to find him smirking.

Suddenly, Jimin grabbed your hands and stood up from his seat, bring you up with him. “I apologize everyone, but it seems that Y/N isn’t feeling too well right now, so I think it’s time for us to take our leave. Y/N wants to stay, but I wouldn’t feel good if we did stay. I’ll see you all at work on Monday.” Jimin waved goodbye to his coworkers while you kept your head down, playing up the “sick” act correctly. You waved to everyone as well as both of you started walking towards the car. As soon as both of you were outside of the restaurant, Jimin wrapped his arm around your waist, squeezed your ass, and let his hand rest at your hip. As you both walked to the car, you looked up to him. You could see that he was relieved to be done with that dinner and happy to go home with you. Both of you got to the car, and before Jimin could unlock the car, he interrupted by the sight of Taehyung running towards you.

“Y/N!” Taehyung stopped right in front of you and grabbed your hand, whipping you out of Jimin’s hands and in his direction. “Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t feeling well?” Taehyung murmured as he looked at your small hand in his large one.

“Oh, I didn’t want to worry you, or anyone.” You took your hand out of his and waved it in front of him for reassurance. “Don’t worry about it! I just need some sleep.” You smiled at him, and he leaned in closer to you, like at the dining table.

Taehyung grabbed your hand again, rubbing circles on the back of it before looking up to you. “Call me when you get home, alright? I wanna know that you’re okay.”

You were happy to have a friend like him in your friend, and your smile got brighter at that thought. “Of course! I’ll see you soon.”

The flirty side of him came back as he kissed the back of your hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you soon darling.” Taehyung had a goofy grin again and looked to Jimin, “I’ll see you on Monday man, don’t let your girl get sick or I’ll help her out instead.” He winked at you, and he started to laugh as he began to walk away.

Although you thought this was funny, Jimin did not at all. You only realize this when you saw the several veins in his neck pushing up to his skin. “I’ll see ya later.” He spoke through gritted teeth. You saw his fists tighten so hard that you felt he might actually break his bones. In the years that you’ve been dating Jimin, you’ve never seen him so angry. He unlocked the car and walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. He realized that you were frozen in place, so he started to speak in the sweetest tone he can muster up with the anger running through his veins, “Y/N, get in the fucking car right now, or things will get worse.”

You practically bolted to the car seat, and you felt the car shake as Jimin slammed your door shut. He walked over to the driver’s side and sat in the car. He repeated his actions, and he harshly closes his door before putting his hands on the wheel. He exhaled deeply and turned to you, “Tonight, you’re gonna listen to every word I say. Do you understand, sweetheart?” You nodded your head to him, analyzing the strain in his voice. He was frustrated, and you honestly did not expect this level of dominance. “Good girl.” He responded before turning on the car.

You look down to your hands, thinking about what could happen tonight and all the things Jimin might do to you. “Are we going home?” You asked politely, wanting to alleviate his irritation.

Your question had the opposite effect, causing his veins to strain more. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned to you at a menacing pace, “Baby, did I say that you could talk?” You were about to open your mouth, but Jimin continued, “I don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth. Got it?” You nodded your head and returned to the position that you were in previously. Jimin’s hand lingered on your thigh and squeezed it to get your attention. “Tell me a safeword.”

A safeword? There were a few moments of silence before you thought of a sinister idea. You thought to yourself, He was already angry, why not triggering him more? You had a sense of where this night will lead to, and you were happy with the results. But a part of you wanted to tease him a bit more.

Jimin spoke once more, “Have you thought of it yet? Tell me.”

You muster up all the confidence you had, and you began, “Yes I did. The safeword is Taehyung.”

You thought that Jimin was angry before, but you were fucked now. You could feel the tension in the air.

His nails dig into your thighs, close to breaking the skin. You could see the stream coming out nostrils as he looked at you with nothing but depravity. You swore that he growled when he spoke, “Okay.”

You were screwed for tonight, but in every perfect way, right?

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gothamdetected-a · 4 years

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an idiot’s guide to the wayne family.

now complete with new diagrams! i wish i wash kidding, ive really made a diagram to help illustrate this.

[ follow the link here for actual visible quality. thanks tumblr.]

some points to make quickly -

• this is not complete. there were probably more siblings and wives and children, but i just focused on the main lineage i could piece together from DC knowledge

• apologies for the lack of knowledge on the women in the family past the last century. this is unfortunately common in real life too, as women were not landowners etc, and without a marriage certificate they basically don’t show up on records. dc happily talk about the male line but not about the wives and daughters so :/

• the dates are fairly made up, and especially at the bottom are just me twisting things to fit my own personal canon

• and finally, i just wanted to say that while this is pieced together from what DC have told us, there are a lot of holes that i have filled with headcanons. not all of this is canon. sometimes i just want to give a person a cool life that dc are too cowardly to do.

so, although this varies by “earth”, i have tried to combine the various histories given for pre- and post-52 waynes into a full comprehensible timeline. i’ve probably failed, but this is what i’m sticking with.

to start with we’re supposed to believe that there was a norse guy calling himself the Bat-Man, running around in the 10th century killing frost giants. is it plausible? yes. is it exaggerated? most definitely. am i wiping it from existence because it was one issue in a faintly terrible run that has technically been retconned anyway? absolutely. ignoring that makes the earliest recorded ancestor of the wayne family a man called gawayne de weyne, a french crusader in the 14th century. on some earths he’s called lancelot wayne (too on the nose) or harold wayne (thanks i hate it), so im personally going to retcon that and just say gawayne is it. also because i love the etymological aspect of the name beginning as de weyne in old high french and it slowly changing through out the centuries. gawayne, also sometimes written as gevain, was one of the knights sent to retrieve the holy grail, but, as knights tended to do, he died. sorry gawayne. the weirdest part about all of this is that he asked for his heart to be embalmed, and there’s a plot line revolving around this (batman: scottish connection). now i’m not saying that madness runs in the family, but the waynes absolutely do not get a good head start in history.

gawayne must have had at least one surviving heir who goes on to have babies etc etc, and eventually we get to the 16th century, and the next instance of the waynes. specifically, contarf wayne. which, i have to say, super dumb name. if i ever have a kid, im calling it contarf. so it’s now the 1500s and the waynes have somehow become scottish, probably from getting given land after crusading and that. apparently gawayne was aknight of the scottish court, despite being french, which actually happened a lot back then. literally the only notable thing contarf does with his life is build castle wayne, and i swear these people are all born with both madness and a flair for the dramatic. yes at some point bruce does go to this gloomy scottish castle where it’s always rainy and stormy and fits right on in, so that’s terrifying.

around a hundred years later nathaniel wayne tries to emigrate across to the “new world”. nathaniel likes witchhunting, and has come over to what will one day be the US following a witch fleeing from england - annie. annie who he may have dated. annie who may be pregnant with his child. good on you nathaniel, that’s a healthy relationship you’ve got right there. after the baby is delivered, he finds her and. you know, people were not kind of witches back then, so she dies. and with her dying breath, curses nathaniel and all his descendants. which includes her OWN BABY (super punk move), and one day bruce wayne. this curse manifests in very few of the extant waynes surviving beyond 40, often going mad, and absolutely tuning on each other. nathaniel’s particular grisly end comes when his is the fateful colony that ends up in what-will-one-day-be-gotham (see my idiots guide to gotham for more juicy details), releasing the deacon blackfire from his little cave and ending up missing, presumed dead. (definitely dead). this is the start of the “waynes probably should avoid gotham” saga. spoiler alert - they don’t.

somewhere in the interluding 100 years, a branch of the waynes do actually successfully make it over into the americas. 2 brothers, caleb and thomas simon wayne, reach the east coast from britain, and go their separate ways. caleb joins a convoy heading out west, leading a wagon train, and, as so many pioneers do, he also dies, while trying to make this trip. but caleb really isnt the interesting brother here (sorry man), because what thomas gets up to is far more exciting. he settles in, lo and behold, the newly formed town of gotham, and for some strange reason (probably because all the waynes are fairly nuts, as we’ve established at this point) decides to give devil-worshipping a go. maybe its fucking curse. maybe its something in the water. maybe its maybelline. but whatever it is, thomas wayne tries to summon and ensnare the demon barbatos by killing some innocents, in a wild, but understandable, attempt to gain immortality. he doesn’t succeed. or does he. it half works - instead of summoning the bat-demon (yes the same bat-demon that the founding fathers later summon and also trap beneath gotham) he gets one of darkseid’s hyper-dimensional bounty hunters, and some how, through some space age magic, the energy of this event corrupts him into agelessness/slowed ageing, we’re not totally sure. later dear old tom pops back up as the villainous dr simon hurt, and literally fights his own descendant. DC give no fucks.

after the whole corrupting not-magic thing, but before he disappears, thomas/simon impregnates one of his cult’s disciples. a lot. (is this why the waynes can look 30 at 50? more on this at 10) and between 1747 and 1771 (because immortal people also have immortal sperm apparently), she bears him 3 sons. probably some daughters too but again, who cares about that. not DC, that’s for damn sure. these sons are all absolutely fucking insane, just like daddy dearest. the eldest, who is LITERALLY known as “mad” anthony wayne, is said to be the spitting image of bruce, which is confirmed through some time travelling bs that we’re not going to think about. anthony and horatio wayne, the middle brother, both sign up to fight in the revolutionary war. unfortunately THE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN and horatio perishes while burning british ships. anthony goes on to becomes a brigadier general, serving directly under george washington and pulls some crazy good strategies that help to kick the british out of new jersey, earning his nickname of “mad” anthony, because only someone fucking nuts could come up with these plans, and pull them off. the youngest brother darius wayne is only 4 when the war breaks out, and is therefore too Babey to fight, but does later become notable for being the man to start construction on wayne manor. in 1795, using the money inherited from his brother horatio on his death, he hires an architect nathan van derm, to begin planning and building. sadly darius will never see it completed, with funds dwindling and his older brother’s death, eventually darius takes his own life.

not to worry, he leaves behind 2 sons - herkimer and charles wayne. literally herkimer’s only notable feature is that he fights in the war of 1812. sorry my guy, DC hate you. charles, on the other hand, is a businessman, who manages the failing company his father had left behind and starts to grow the wayne fortune. charles buys more land surrounding the manor, as well as a lot of general gotham real estate, and is the man accrediting for starting wayne enterprises as a series of several small business, ranging from merchant trading to land ownership to mining, in 1845. however charlie contracts tuberculosis at the ripe old age of 62 and shuffles off the mortal coil.

the oldest of his sons, charles lincoln wayne, also known as charles junior, does 2 things - begins construction on the wayne manor again in 1855 after purchasing it back from jerome k. van derm, the destitute son of the original architect, who had been living in the bones of the construcion, and uses a considerable portion of his inheritance to build the gotham botanical gardens in 1870. the next son, winslow wayne, is another enigma - the only thing mentioned about him in the comics is that he fought alongside teddy roosevelt, which i’m guessing is in the spanish-american war. but the youngest two brothers, joshua thomas and solomon zebadiah wayne are the real spicy pair. not only do they tackle the bat infestation on the manor grounds, but the pair work to change the federal system of america - joshua, when he’s not managing the wayne companies, is an abolitionist who engages in secret missions to free slaves by getting them across the border into canada, and solomon, the vaguely more sensible of the two, becomes a judge, attempting to be as fair and incorruptible as possible. sadly joshua is killed due to his slave smuggling antics (THE CURRSSEE), and this sends solomon slightly nuts, and causes him to contract the architect cyrus pinkney, who is even more nuts, to basically. build gotham. these two men are the reason 97% of buildings have gargoyles on them.

solomon has only 1 child before he dies, who fortunately, grows up to be a very shrewd businessman capable of growing wayne ent even through with the advent of shipping and rail sectors. this man, alan wayne, constructs the original wayne tower in 1888, and it completely swamps the gotham skyline. he also marries catherine van derm, the great granddaughter of the original architect of wayne manor, and finally manage to complete and move in to the building in 1895, exactly 100 years after the project was started. for a while they are very happy, and catherine falls pregnant. but this darn curse just won’t leave these wayne boys alone, and in 1897, catherine dies giving birth to their son, kenneth wayne. a year later, lost and traumatised and going insane thinking about his wife’s death alan wayne mysteriously disappears (read as: fell down a well and was maybe or maybe not tortured and killed by the court of owls).

kenneth wayne, raised as virtually an orphan, turns out to have his papa’s business management skills, and, foreseeing america's impending industrialisation in the 20s and 30s, makes some risky moves that pay off, including the advent of wayne chemicals, and wayne ent expands yet again. kenneth, like the recurring pattern that you can see here, dies fairly early due to WW2 however, leaving his wife laura to care for their 4 sons AND the company, which she does like a boss ass bitch. seriously, women barely had the vote and she was already a titan of industry and raising 4 teenage boys like. massive props to you babe. these boys are

ishmael wayne, a whaler who is an incredible parody of captain ahab and also dies trying to catch a white whale, elwood wayne, who goes and reclaims what is now called waynemoor castle in scotland, living there until his death, silas wayne, who may or may not be a thief posing as a wayne because the real silas died, AND at long last, patrick wayne - bruce’s granpappy, who founded the wayne tech arm of the company at 20 years old, aiding the war effort, and where this stupidly long post ends, because there is 0 point in me recounting the lives of thomas, bruce, or any of his children. everyone knows them. could i write more about thomas’ siblings and the kanes and how they tie in? yes. but this post is like 2100 words long and i want to sleep at some point today so this will have to do askjdbjsdhgf

#im #this is virtually incomprehensible #\system\directory\hidden.txt ›› META #long post /

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alarawriting · 5 years

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Inktober #19: Sling

Here’s a scene I alluded to in “Dr. Ultraviolet Meets Her Nemesis” (again, lack of functional website, cannot link because that makes the post unsearchable, but you can click on the tag to find the rest of what I’ve got for Dr. Ultraviolet.)

***

“What exactly is this… stuff?” Ultraviolet asked her sister, with a sneer that she hoped was making it clear she could be using stronger language.

“You asked for books,” Scarlett said, “so I brought you some of mine.”

Ultraviolet tried to count to 10, but Scarlett interrupted at 4. “I think you might really like Chiaoscuro. It’s about a superheroine who falls in love with a magnetic, charismatic villain—”

“It’s a romance novel,” Ultraviolet said.

“Yes. I know they weren’t your favorites but—”

“I despise romance novels,” Ultraviolet said. “Would it have truly killed you to go to a bookstore and get me something I might possibly enjoy, rather than just bringing me whatever dreck you happened to have lying around on your bookshelf?”

“There aren’t any bookstores around here. Everest drove them all out of business. I could have ordered from them, but they’re evil.”

Ultraviolet happened to know that this was absolutely true. The last time she’d been invited to attend the Villainy Connection yearly networking event for supervillains, Everest’s CEO Josh Bevel had been the keynote speaker. Given that she herself was a supervillain, this was hardly a dealbreaker for her. “Libraries exist, then. And what about used book stores?”

“Look, I went out of my way to do you a favor, Violet,” Scarlett said. “It’s not like I don’t have a lot going on. I’ve got four kids, the economy’s been slowing down and people aren’t buying houses so much lately, and I’ve been having issues with Gavin.”

From long experience with her sister, Ultraviolet knew that Scarlett wanted her to ask about her issues with Gavin, but Ultraviolet would have had difficulty caring less. “How hard is it to bring me a book that isn’t a godawful romance novel? Do I look like the kind of suburban mom who’s wasted her life dreaming of some Mr. Wonderful sweeping her off her feet?”

“It sounds like you’re saying that’s what I am.”

“The shoes don’t just fit, Scarlett, they’re on sale and you have ten pairs in your closet.”

“Fuck you, Violet. I didn’t need to come here. You know, the doctors told me you were in traction and you broke an arm and both legs and you might have fractured a vertebra in your neck, and I was worried about you.”

Ultraviolet sighed. “I appreciate that you were worried—”

“And I didn’t just bring you romance novels. This one, All The Pretty Little Horsies, is about the hunt for a serial killer.”

“What made you think I was interested in true crime, either?” They were in a private ward, but the door was open, nurses bustling around outside, so Ultraviolet didn’t say what she really wanted to, which was “I’m a supervillain, my life is a true crime story, why would I want to read about cops hunting a criminal down?” Admittedly there was a huge difference between her genius and ambitions to reshape the world in the image she wanted, and a mundane serial killer getting his jollies by killing teenage girls or something, but on principle Ultraviolet did not want to be sympathizing with cops.

“Well, it’s kind of like what you do for your career, right?”

Ultraviolet couldn’t control the exasperation in her sigh. “Only in the sense that your career involves selling people haunted houses where evil brownies will crawl out of the walls at night and devour them.”

“That… has nothing to do with what I do.”

“I rest my case.”

“Usually I don’t even sell the houses! I prefer being a buyer’s agent. The seller gets money at closing, but the buyer gets a new future. A place that’s going to change their way of life. Something that might be an anchor, a touchstone for them for the rest of their lives.”

“Scarlett. I don’t care. The point is, I’m not a serial killer, I’m nothing like a serial killer, and we are not in the same line of work. I am a scientist.”

“I thought you were an inventor.”

“I am. I’m an inventor and a scientist. All the greatest inventors were scientists.”

“Thomas Edison wasn’t.”

“Thomas Edison was a liar and a thief who stole everything he did from Nikola Tesla, among others.”

“Henry Ford—”

“—wasn’t even an inventor. Dear lord, Scarlett, what did they teach you in school?”

Scarlett glared at her. “You went to the same school.”

“Yes, but I didn’t learn anything there. Everything I learned was self-study. I didn’t actually pay attention in class.”

“Then how do you know that what they taught me was wrong?”

Ultraviolet glanced up at her IV bag, which was full, and at the clock, which was stubbornly nowhere near the end of visiting hours. “Get me some books about scientists. Preferably books where scientists are right, and everyone else is wrong, and all the people who are wrong get eaten by dinosaurs, and the scientists get to say ‘I told you so’ and end up very wealthy.”

“That’s… really specific.”

“It doesn’t have to be dinosaurs. The people who are wrong could get eaten by aliens. Or viruses.”

“I don’t even know how I’d find a book like that.”

“You’d ask at the library, you heathen. Don’t you read?”

“Yes!” Scarlett snapped. “I read a lot of things! Among them, romance novels and true crime, which are apparently not intellectual enough for the great Doctor Ultraviolet to want to sully her eyeballs—”

“Scarlett! Secret identity!” Ultraviolet whispered in a loud hiss.

“No one’s paying attention.”

“Captain Cosmic knows he dropped me. I wouldn’t put it past him to be searching the local hospitals.”

Cosmic had been trying to fly her to the Max, the ultra-secure supervillain prison that so far, no one had managed to break out of. Ultraviolet had used her nanobot lubricant on him to force him to drop her, without perhaps fully considering the fact that they were a thousand feet in the air by the time it took effect. With lubricant in his eyes and covering his hands, Cosmic couldn’t even see her to catch her, and when he’d flailed around by accident and grabbed her foot by trying to figure out where the screaming was coming from, he hadn’t been able to hold on. She’d had to use her prototype antigravity device to save herself, and it hadn’t had enough power to prevent her from hitting the ground hard enough to break most of her limbs, several ribs, and possibly her neck.

She’d already been in traction for two days, completely immobilized – chest taped, head in a neck brace, legs mummified and hanging from pulleys on poles attached to her bed, arm in a sling. She was bored out of her mind. The only entertainment the hospital offered was a television, and just hearing the sounds of daytime game shows and soap operas and Judge Jeri made her want to kill everyone in the hospital, or at the very least her immediate neighbors on the ward who wouldn’t stop watching that crap. Actually having to see it herself might make her brain fatally overheat with rage.

So when her sister had called and offered to visit, Ultraviolet had begged her to bring books, to alleviate the horrible boredom. But this… dreck wasn’t worth the name “book”. It was a bound collection of paper, containing letters arranged into words that had been assembled to produce some sort of simulation of syntactical meaning, that was all.

“I think if Captain Cosmic was here, there would be a lot more shrieking, and people begging for his autograph.”

“He has a secret identity too. He could be walking right past us dressed as a nurse and you would never guess.”

Scarlett sighed. “All right. I’m sorry I said it, Violet. But you need to stop acting like, just because you’re a genius, everything you don’t like or don’t approve of is stupid. And you could be a little bit grateful. I drove way out of my way to visit you.”

“I’m sure your conscience would have nagged at you if you hadn’t.”

“I tell you what. I’ll go to the library and get your books about scientists, and I’ll bring them by tomorrow.”

“That would be suitable.”

“And I’ll bring Alan. He’s sixteen, so he’s allowed to visit, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his aunt and explain the plot of Battle Island to you, or Kraftwerk, or one of those other video games he’s obsessed with.”

“No! Scarlett, I’m not interested in listening to your offspring prattle on about whatever degenerate pastime has caught his fancy.”

“And I’m not interesting in helping a bitchy older sister who can’t even say thank you, but I’d feel bad about leaving you here all alone. So I’ll bring Alan to entertain you.” Scarlett smiled widely. “I’ll tell him that you’re feeling cranky because you’re in pain, so he should ignore any rude thing you say to him. Since you’d be incapable of asking him to stop politely, I guess that means Alan’s going to have a captive audience tomorrow.”

“Scarlett!”

“See you tomorrow, sis!” Scarlett caroled, and left the room, leaving Ultraviolet to fume about the unfairness of it all. If only she could get decent henches, she could get someone to transport her to her base, where her rapid regeneration machine could heal her within minutes. But no, the union had blacklisted her, and you couldn’t trust non-union henches. Totally unfair. Every other villain had henches lining up around the block – even the ones who routinely shot their own employees. But you mutate the henchmen into anthropomorphic sharks one time… and now, because of that idiot Captain Cosmic and because of the moronic Henchman’s Union, Scarlett was going to force her to listen to her oldest child ramble on about whatever stupid garbage he was in love with right now.

If she could only reach her crutches, she’d get out of this bed and hobble out of the hospital right now.

#inktober 2019 #dr ultraviolet #supers

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thetaylorfiles · 5 years

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Sorry!

Hey guys, sorry for the lack of asks and replies the past few days/week. Ive been both extra busy with real life stuff and have been immersed in really good, new binge-able shows that have come out recently (and I’ve still got a few to go!), so I’ve been watching those in my free time - which takes away from my time on tumblr obvsly.

So this has resulted in less asks and replies. But I will get to as many as I can, as soon as I can! Fridays are generally good days for me to do lots of asks, too, because it’s my No Kids, Two Movie days and I have ha sculls of free times in between and before and after. So always count on that.

Thanks for bearing with me. And as always when I get busy, I’ll try to post as many asks as I can even if I can’t reply to them specifically. Sorry about that. But thanks for undetatanding! Love to you all!

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vegetalass · 5 years

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Veneno

its almost 5 am and i’ve been working on this for WEEKS and im sick of it!!!!! i think its the longest fic ive written in my life tbh...

I really wanted to play with the idea of a Sidestep who was manipulating herald, as I remember Malin mentioning multiple routes exploring a few different possibilities of treatments to the ROs. so this is my take on the manipulation theme!

partially inspired by my ex, who has a dumb nickname I never called him, and who once said to me “even if you can’t say it back, i’ll wait.”

sorry for giving herald a cat. i was actually just describing mine lol.

warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers, with sweets and drinking vice mentioned.

HUGE thank you to @abyssopelagick and my friend GRUM!!!!!!! who i can honestly say i wouldn’t have been able to post without. ily both!

FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth

Herald/gn!Reader - 2753 words

You knew it. You knew Herald used to be rich.

Maybe it was his perfect hair and blue eyes that gave it away, or the fact that he mentioned having a television as a kid. Maybe it was because he was so sweet and shy when you first met, that when you found the collection of pills beneath his bathroom counter when you went snooping through his stuff, that you realized you’d never even considered the fact that he’s probably never had to starve.

In retrospect, maybe it should’ve been a little more obvious after the first night you spent with him, and you should’ve taken better precautions to handle his delicate, loving nature, but so far you haven’t complained and you’re not about to start. Not only has everything worked out, but currently, you’re laying in the soft, old sheets of Herald’s bed, in his nice and clean apartment you can only describe as luxury.

Better than what you have. Better than what you had.

It makes you feel like a kid, the type with no concept for anything except longing. The kind of kid that reads books about bakers who sneak bread to dying girls, and blond princes who insist on liking someone their father hates.

And boy, does Herald like you.

He’s such a prim boy, if not just a sweet one. Kind, generous, loving, you name it. Anybody would be lucky to have him, and for now, that means you. The money is just a bonus, one that you could easily get used to.

Whether this has always the case, though, is another question. One that doesn’t matter much, because you find it’s just been nice to have been surprised as a telepath. Not to mention, you could always use the resources.

In some ways, it makes you want to laugh; to think that Herald knows nothing of your endeavors to kill him, and that all his good fortune can’t do a thing to stop you.

But in others, you feel like crying because he’s a boy who loves you and you have nothing left to offer in return.

You’ve decided not to mull on it. Because when he invites you to spend the night, and kisses you endlessly in that red-hot way, staying in his bed after is so comfortable and warm that it almost feels like the reason you don’t intend to get caught as a villain for a while.

So, you’ve been starting to come over to his place a lot recently.

It wasn’t intentional, your relationship with him. You always tried to tell him that it was Sidestep he was dreaming of, not this new you. But from the moment you let him kiss you on that day in HQ, and then later on that other night after your first date... it became harder and harder to stop yourself from growing quite… fond of him.

Even if it wasn’t planned.

Despite the mess that you’ve gotten tangled up in, in every possible way, it has been a really fun way to pass the time. Watching the way Herald dances around you as if you’re a breakable doll who’s done no wrong, even if he loves and trusts and admires you.

And the fact that you sometimes have emotional outbursts where you cry about disappointing him only adds to the effect of it all. It’s a risky but satisfying game, and even if part of it is genuine, you’re still a villain and have to remember the limits, though you don’t want to be evil all of the time. You might run out of luck.

Herald doesn’t know that, though. There’s actually a lot that he doesn’t.

Part of the fun is trying to guess how long you think all of this good might last. Because good things never last, do they?

But that’s no matter right now, and you shake your head from the thought, because the only person who has even dared to figure out your true nature is Herald’s cat, who hasn’t taken kindly to your presence since the start.

What a smart animal.

She’s a fat, old thing. A tabby, with piercing, green eyes. She was hiding on the first night you came over, probably busy licking herself and thinking that you were another romantic partner here to screw her Daniel over. She was right, but you just kept coming back.

Currently, she’s washing herself from her place on Herald’s dirty hoodie on the dresser across from you, looking up occasionally to hiss in what feels like a mocking, angry tone.

Re-Gene! Villain! I know what you’ve done, and you leave my Daniel out of it!

Tough shit, cat, though it’s still a shame she won’t let you pet her.

Not like you’re planning on moving out of bed, anyway.

It’s only in between your stints of dozing to the sound the sickly sounding auburn news anchor on the TV and mulling about whether sweets or a drink would taste better first, that you notice the approaching presence of Herald’s feather white aura growing closer, and realize that he must be in the building.

Even the now-napping cat seems to stir in acknowledgement before the both of you notice the sound of keys struggling in a locked door, as if you couldn’t try to pinpoint Herald’s exact location by entering his mind from your comfortable position with a little effort if you really wanted to try.

Immediately, the cat jumps from her comfortable perch to the floor, and rushes to the front door in an attempt to reach Herald halfway, get a scratch, and then rat you out as if he’d even listen if she could talk.

Either way, he’s home.

You can hear meows, and it’s easy to imagine how she tangles around his ankles as he squats to give her ears a good scritch. The pleasant imagery is interrupted too soon, though, as suddenly she yowls and you can hear the pit-pat of her feet as she rushes your way in her attempt to tattle on you.

“Oh, you,” you can hear him mutter at her as his footsteps echo in your direction before he hobbles into the room with a nasty limp. He looks about as close to someone who just got hit by a car and lived as someone possibly could, as his mess of gold hair is wind-blown and tangled, face bruised and dirty, and from the way his head is tilted down, must’ve been slouching for a while.

He looks... defeated, and you smile at the sight, hoping that you somehow look kind.

The cat continues to meow until Herald looks up, eyes widening in surprise when they finally meet your gaze, and despite his bad posture, or lack thereof from his aches, brightens immediately at your smile.

“Hi,” he breathes, finally standing up to throw his keys onto the little table resting by the door to his room.

“I wasn’t sure if I could let myself in-” You nod in his direction, before he interrupts you.

“Of course,” he blurts, almost too quickly, and then quickly looks away from your face when he finishes. “Always.”

You smile, feigning relief, even if you don’t really care.

Herald continues on, shuffling from where he’s standing to a dresser not far away, and you sit up in his bed to watch as he strips from his Ranger suit to reveal another handful of purple-blue wounds and scratches layered above his already scarred chest. He must be hurting.

“Daniel...” you call to him in an attempt to seem worried, and he hums in acknowledgement, “Are you okay?”

He grunts, and in the silence that follows, the TV seems to grow louder in his place. You hadn’t realized that it switched from the weather special to a Los Diablos Breaking News! segment.

“Ranger spotted in successful attempt stopping local mob,” the smiling woman says, eyes blurred toward the camera as a clip of Herald handcuffing a man in a black jumpsuit takes over the screen.

You smile again because he’s a really good guy. A great one. And his fighting has been getting better.

Part of you wonders if it’s due to the fact that you’ve been training him, and the other part wonders if you should be worried. He’s always been someone who appears a lot weaker than he actually is. And you want to stoke the flame.

“You don’t have pull the tough guy act with me, Daniel,” you say to him, this time more forcefully.

You know he always notices when you use his real name, which is one of the reasons why you started using it. This time, you watch as he lowers the green shirt he’s been holding to his chest to look at you with those endless blue eyes and sigh wistfully.

“I get it, you know I do,” you try again, this time with the intent of at least getting him to open up.

You’re nervous, at first, scared of what he could say to you. That he knows you’re playing games, or that he doesn’t want you around anymore. But nothing has ever warranted this response in the past, so you wonder what’s happened to him to make him look at you like you just hit him over the head.

Ha.

You have hurt him. You even ruined one of his legs, but that was in the past, and it’s not like he knows that was you. If he did, you’d hope that he’d just be grateful enough to appreciate the fact that you didn’t kill him that night, too. He shouldn’t have any reason to look worried when you’ve just been here, lying in bed, silently waiting for him to join you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be worried either.

The TV speaks again.

“Impressive feat for the youngest member of the Rangers, who just under a year ago was taken down by the notorious Puppetmaster at their debut sighting.”

Herald is still paused, except this time, you notice his gaze has moved from you to the screen in front of him.

Though the news channel was initially spouting a success story, it’s no surprise that they’re now comparing Herald’s skills to when the both of you fought. It’s also not a surprise when the golden boy of the Rangers suddenly looks even smaller than before when he whips back around as to stop glaring at the news anchor as if she could even see him. You wonder what she would do if she could.

You don’t speak.

“You know…” Herald starts, ignoring your previous words all together, “I’m worried about you.”

This doesn’t shock you, though not because you’re a telepath. He’s a naive boy, so of course he is worried, and because part of you cares about him in some twisted way, the good in you wishes that he wasn’t.

Worried or naive?

Both?

Deep down, you know he shouldn’t like you and you crave to tell him as such. To berate him, to beat it into him, to scream that he’s just a stupid, little boy in love with an animal who has a past he’d never understand. But it’s easy to stop yourself because you always do.

You hesitate to respond, but mutter back anyway. “Why?”

You know he means it well, he means everything well, but the words come out harsher than you intended them to, and you quickly have to pat the spot next to you in bed to ensure that Herald thinks you’re not angry at him for simply… being him.

The little, sweet and young Sidestep that is still left in your heart is screaming to be kinder; telling you that you should just be happy that there is someone still cares for you and is able to show it. But there’s an ache in your heart, and suddenly the thought of both your past and your future make you feel like you have to get piss-shit drunk, puke all over yourself, and then immediately get heartburn.

So you decide to ignore the thought all together, and focus on the fact that Herald is now staring intently at you again. Only half-dressed (which is distracting), still, but staring nonetheless.

He tilts his face towards the ground to slouch once more, before whispering, “I just don’t want… them to come after you, too.”

“Oh, hush,” you say instantly, patting the bed again, before reaching out your arms for him to join you as he makes his way over. You know who he means, and the person already has.

You.

You are coming for yourself.

“Puppetmaster is growing very strong, when they learn you’re still around… they might-” He cannot finish the thought before he reaches the bed and ducks himself into your waiting arms.

You roll your eyes as you rest your cheek on his soft head. He really is a silly boy.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, into his hair, “I still have you, don’t I?”

He stays silent, so you continue the charade.

“You’re the one on the frontlines, so if anything, I’m the one who should be worried,” are your final words, before Herald cups your cheeks in his large palms in an attempt to kiss you. Before he makes it, however, you have to swat his face away because you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles deep from inside your chest at the realization of the situation.

Herald looks stunned, but smiles meekly in return when he decides you aren’t angry, and then laughs with you, even if he doesn’t get the joke.

“You’re silly, Daniel,” you say, settling with simplicity, because what do you say to the love who you’re lying to? What can you say, even if you kind of love them back?

But Herald, or maybe Daniel now (as you don’t much care which anymore), just blinks slow and smiles, content being held tightly in your arms.

You want to consider it strange, all this dedication to a person he doesn’t really know, this old Sidestep person, whoever they are, except that in a way, you realize, he does know you.

He knows the you that you have given him, this laughing kid, and in a sense, you truly believe that that’s not really you at all; because you just play this game too well, and he’s been wrapped around your finger from the start. You allowed for this, and you don’t want to say you regret it.

He’s a sweet boy. Always has been. And he never fails to surprise you.

“I love you,” he declares suddenly, voice quiet, sweet, and calming.

And you’re shocked. Not because you didn’t know that, but because you weren’t expecting to really care. And underneath his covers, everything seems three times as sweet. You weren’t expecting to be flattered, and there’s a part of you doesn't even mind. Another thing you could easily get used to. So responding is easy.

“Thank you, Daniel. I mean it.”

And he nods, still cuddled against your heart, your tattoos, looking at you like someone who could truly be loved. He is smiling all the while, too.

“Even if you can’t say it back, I’ll wait,” he says, lips barely curled, blue eyes sparkling.

It’s a nice gesture: this sudden, heartfelt proclamation, but you can’t say it’s one you deserve, as you have been so cruel to both him and yourself. Even though the Sidestep in you would rather jump off a roof, crash, and die before breaking his heart, you have long since realized that there is still a villain inside you that is hungry to laugh and cheer when Herald finds out who really tore him apart on that night at the museum.

You’d feel worse, but that day really was amazing. Finally making yourself proud, even at his expense.

However, the thought quickly escapes you, as this time, when he leans over to kiss you, you let him. His lips are warm on yours, and as you find your fingers tangled in his hair, for a second, it almost feels as though this relationship wasn’t built on a lie.

“I know,” you respond, smiling sweetly at him for once, genuinely, because even if could change your behavior, you cannot help your pride, and you cannot help your heart.

And when you’re going to break his anyway, even though you know you should stop this mess, because a small part of you loves him, you might as well make sure it hurts.

#fallen hero #fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fallen hero spoilers #I HOPE THE FORMATTING ISNT WEIRD I WORKED SO HARD

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mittensmorgul · 6 years

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The mixtape thing is hard for me to see as a romantic gesture only- In Stranger Shings, Jonathan Bayers gave a Mixtape to his little brother, In Guardians of the Galaxy, Peter Quill got his Mixtape from his mother-So it seems that can be a family thing too?And we and the show, claim that Castiel is family- I would love it to be pure romantic love thing,but with many mixtapes showing up as a family affair it is hard

Hi there! First of all, my intent behind this reply is one part mild exasperation, one part humorous jibing, and maybe two or three parts coffee (It took a lot of coffee to drown out the part that just wanted to delete this in a fit of less-than-mild exasperation, but I just want to assure you that this reply is in no way intended to be mean-spirited or condescending, and I hope you don’t take it that way).

For my second disclaimer, I’d like to make it known that I have seen neither of these things-- GotG or Stranger Things-- but because I don’t live under a rock, I at least know what they are. So if I say something about them that people who are actually familiar with these things would take issue with, just know that I am not prepared for a meta debate on either GotG or Stranger Things, but that no ill is intended in referencing them here.

(for my third disclaimer, I’d like to again state how sad I am that meta writers need to paste these sorts of disclaimers on everything, but such is the way things go...)

Righto! I think we can get down to business now. :)

There has already been a very well-written defense of the mixtape as romantic as used in GotG and GotG 2, and how it even STRENGTHENS the romantic reading of the mixtape scene in 12.19. But being me, the post somehow didn’t make it into the proper tag on my blog, and despite trying to search for it multiple different ways, I can’t seem to find it anywhere... >.>

(additional disclaimer that I’m in the middle of a Death Migraine, so apologies for any lack of due diligence in linking relevant references... searching for things hurts my brain right now)

The gist of it was that the mixtape contained songs that Peter Quill’s parents listened to together, so the tape’s ORIGINS were without question romantically coded. Despite the fact that the movie opens with Peter’s dying mother giving him the tape (this was what happened, right? I’m not mistaken here?) as a gift of love from mother to son, from what I understand about the sequel, PETER TURNS RIGHT AROUND AND USES THE TAPE TO WOO GAMORA. Restoring the “romantic” associations the tape began with, imbuing the mixtape with a sort of “legacy of love.”

Did I get all that right?

This is EXACTLY what I was referring to in my post yesterday as the show’s history of using Led Zeppelin songs in explicitly romantic situations.

In the OPENING SCENE of 12.01, as Dean’s establishing his identity for a very confused and suddenly-alive-after-33-years Mary, this is what he tells her:

Dean: Listen to me. Your name - your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, you were born December 5, 1954 to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for work, and you bounced right along with him and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.Mary: How do you know all that?Dean: Dad told me. March 23, 1972 you walked out of a movie theater, Slaughterhouse-Five, you loved it. And you bumped into a big marine and knocked him on his ass. You were embarrassed and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So you went to, uh, Mulroni's, and you talked and he was cute, and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number you gave it to him even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that you met-Mary: John Winchester.Dean: August 19, 1975 you were married, in Reno, your idea. Few years later I came along, then Sammy.Mary: Then I burned. How long have I been gone?Dean: Thirty-three years.

SHE GAVE JOHN WINCHESTER HER NUMBER BECAUSE HE KNEW ALL THE WORDS TO EVERY LED ZEPPELIN SONG. IT WAS A FLIRTATION. IT WAS THE FOUNDING STONE IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP.

LED ZEPPELIN LYRICS.

EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC.

Not only that, but we know that Dean has known this story his whole life. As if Mary (who had died long ago when he was a child, just like Peter Quill’s mother) had given him a reason to love these songs, too. For Dean they weren’t just ///romantic/// coded, but a link to that happier and more innocent time from his childhood, where his life was normal and his mom cut the crusts off his PBJ and gave him pie. From a time when Dean thought life could even be normal at all.

So, not solely romantic, but absolutely romanticized. Or idealized, at least. These were memories he clung to like a koala as his life fell to pieces after Mary died. He remembered that old life as only a child could, through rose-tinted soft-focus, reinforced by John’s vague and infrequent recounting of his memories of Mary.

(remember in 3.09, how 9-year-old Sam complained that they NEVER talked about mom? and how upset Dean became when Sam probed him for more information? And even in the pilot episode Sam said something about never being able to get mom back, and Dean threw him against the bridge pillar and told him to NEVER say stuff like that about Mary... I mean, it’s HEAVILY implied that talking about her AT ALL was something that just didn’t happen, but when it did, it was the sort of memory Dean referenced in his speech in 12.01... those were the “important details” he’d memorized... and maybe that entire description of their first meeting hadn’t even been John’s words at all, but things Dean had been carrying in his own mind since he was a child-- something Mary might’ve told him herself before she died, since that bit of Dean’s story is related back to Mary in Mary’s own pov.)

The show has also lampshaded the use of Led Zeppelin as a sexual overture, in 2.02:

Jo: You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pickup line. Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some... pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV.

Jo had been expecting Dean to hit on her, and it’s implied all the way up through her appearance as a ghost in 7.04 that she’d WANTED him to hit on her, that she’d had a crush on him or was attracted to him... and the only reason she turned him down in 5.10 was because she didn’t just want the “last night on earth” fling with him... This was 100% a come-on.

And Dean’s two favorite songs? Ramble On (which yes, on the surface is a LotR reference, but the deeper message is the search for a lover), and Traveling Riverside Blues (which is 100% about sex... I mean... It’s just pure lust). Put together, they’re like the peak of Love and Lust. And being Dean’s two top favorite songs? I’d bet both of them are on that mixtape.

So back to the point with the GotG reference. It not only does not invalidate Dean’s gift of the tape to Cas as a romantic gesture, but REINFORCES the romantic nature of the gift.

These songs that united Peter’s parents, which his mom left to him after she died, and eventually he uses to romance someone he’s in love with...

If Peter had turned around and given the mixtape to another relative, or to a friend he had no romantic interest in, then I would’ve given you this example. But that is explicitly NOT what happened. Sorry. When taken in the larger context of the entire story around it, saying the mixtape there was only about a mother’s love for her son is being deliberately obtuse. Context matters, and taking that one link in Peter’s mixtape chain out of the larger interconnected story is cherry picking.

So that leaves us with ONE SINGLE EXAMPLE (which I won’t argue with because I have not seen Stranger Things and therefore have zero context with which to debate what you stated about it) OUT OF THE ENTIRE CANON OF HUMAN STORYTELLING in which a mixtape is used as a platonic or familial gift with no romantic coding whatsoever.

I’m going to go ahead and call the use of the mixtape in Stranger Things THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE. This was the subversion of the standard trope.

I asked Mr. Mittens and kidperson (who HAVE watched Stranger Things) what the context of the mixtape was, just so I could have a general idea. Apparently it was given to a younger brother by an older brother as a sort of “This is important music that you need to know to be cool” sort of gift. Or maybe “music that is important to me.” Apparently the older brother was hospitalized for something at some point? So there was also this generalized feeling of “taking care of my little brother” aspect to it? I’m just spitballing on the like three things I know about ST, so no actual meta value is being ascribed to these statements.

But this is what really bothers me about your question, because this is something that’s been discussed since 12.19 aired, and I would like to put forth this argument:

The VAST MAJORITY of references to the gift of a mixtape in popular culture ARE EXPLICITLY ROMANTICALLY OR SEXUALLY CODED. The OVERWHELMING number of references over DECADES of storytelling simply cannot be invalidated by a SINGLE use of the mixtape in a non-romantic way.

PLUS: CONTEXT MATTERS. You can’t just say, “Dean gave Cas a mixtape, but because one time on one show someone gave a mixtape to his brother, so therefore these situations could be identical, and it could be a gesture of brotherly camaraderie and not specifically romantic.” THAT IS NOT A VALID ARGUMENT WHEN TAKEN IN CONTEXT.

The entire scene in 12.19 was framed, shot, and edited with multiple other romantically coded tropes. The absolute QUIET that settled over the scene (no background music, the only sounds those of their voices, speaking earnestly and emotionally to one another), the fact that we didn’t see Dean GIVE the tape TO CAS, but only Cas attempting to return the tape to Dean because his recent actions HURT DEAN. Dean was ANGRY that Cas had gone missing for a time and had ignored his calls, and had stormed off to his room in a huff. Cas’s response to this was to offer to RETURN the tape to Dean (now explicitly coded as a gift of love, because he worried that Dean may have withdrawn whatever feelings that had inspired the gift in the first place).

The fact that Dean can’t even LOOK at Cas because of his hurt, and yet picks up the tape and hands it back to Cas (in a shot that frames JUST THEIR HANDS PASSING THE TAPE like THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLS PAY ATTENTION PLS), and tells him, “It’s a gift. You keep those.”

I can’t believe people need me to spell out all the subtext in that one line, but here it is:

At this moment, the fact that the gift object itself is a mixtape is practically irrelevant, because THAT LINE ITSELF carries about nine miles of romantic subtext. In this context, the mixtape takes on the same narrative weight as Arwen’s necklace in Lord of the Rings. It’s a symbol of her immortality as an elf, AND a symbol for her heart. AND SHE OFFERS IT TO ARAGORN, AND THEN HE TRIES TO GIVE IT BACK BECAUSE HE FEELS HE DOES NOT DESERVE IT, BECAUSE HE’S ABOUT TO LEAVE HER TO GO ON HIS MISSION TO SAVE THE WORLD.

Sound familiar?

This familiarity IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS A VERY LONG-LIVED ROMANTIC TROPE.

The fact that the Macguffin in this case happens to be a Led Zeppelin mixtape in 12.19 only ADDS to the inherently romantically coded GESTURE of what happened in that whole entire scene, compounded by A DECADE of other romantically coded subtext between Dean and Cas.

*screams into the void and the apologizes to the void and tucks it back under its blanket*

There’s also the fact that we have no idea when, or under what circumstances, Dean gave that tape to Cas in the first place. We can only speculate that it may have happened after the events of 12.12, but honestly it could’ve been any time in the preceding ten years. For argument’s sake, let’s suppose it was a relatively recent gift, considering the circumstances under which Cas attempted to return it-- immediately after being confronted with his unexplained absence and Dean’s anger over it, and immediately PRIOR to his PLANNED BETRAYAL, his theft of the Colt, and his abandonment of Dean yet again... The circumstances under which Cas felt he might not ///deserve/// this specific token of Dean’s feelings for him involved betrayal of those feelings by virtue of his absence and abandonment of Dean (at least, he understood this much of what that tape seemed to represent to Dean).

*another disclaimer: I’ve been writing this for like four hours now, and my Death Migraine has progressed to the point where I need to not look at things for a while. I could keep going here, but I’m failing at basic human things like “being able to sit upright” and “not throwing up every time I open my eyes” so I’m gonna stop typing now*

*no wait, one more thing because I can type with my eyes closed*

Isn’t it amazing that we’ve now evolved to the point where instead of combing through the subtext to find romantically coded things in their interactions, folks are now actively scrambling to find ways to explain away the blatantly in-your-face romantically coded text? I mean... what have we come to here? When the more OBVIOUS and far more defensible read of the scene is the romantic read? And yet still there’s this scramble to suggest it could be non-romantic...

And do you know how these sorts of arguments all sound to me? I’ll let the Simpsons explain it for me:

youtube

#top 13 zepp traxx #the scheherazade of supernatural #apologies that this sort of goes incoherent at points #imma go lie down in a dark room for a while now and pray for death #Anonymous

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i-may-have-a-point · 6 years

Text

Review of 14x08 “Out of Nowhere”

I FINALLY sat down last night and watched the mid-season finale. I purposely didn’t watch live, but life kept me busy, too, so sorry for the delay.

Before I get in to my thoughts on Grey’s, I want to ask does anyone watch Chicago Med? I kept reading that Chicago Med did this storyline, so I found the episode to compare how similar they are. Um…guys. In no way do I think that Grey’s Anatomy needs to “borrow” ideas from other shows, but the similarities are eyebrow raising. I have only watched a couple of other episodes of Chicago Med, so I don’t know the characters or their stories well. I did notice that they have characters named April and Maggie, and that was enough to mess with my head in itself, but the episode had so many similarities, I felt like I was watching an alternate reality Grey’s. Early in the episode, all of the monitors/tablets/etc. lock out the doctors and then a cryptic message pops up on all of them stating that someone else has control of their network until the hospital pays a certain amount of bitcoin. Granted, this may be standard hacker lingo, but it made me squint pretty hard at my screen. The wise, older, chief of the hospital gathers everyone to explain the situation, and a doctor asks how they will get things done. Our wise chief explains that things used to be done back in the day with paper and pen and the distribution of the clipboards begins. A male doctor who, similar to Jackson, has a trust fund and is in an interracial relationship, chimes in that he thinks they should just pay the ransom. And while I could explain all of this away with coincidence, there was one scene that was so similar to one on Grey’s that I watched it twice to be sure. Remember Webber’s newspaper trick for the IV bag with blood in it? Same thing happens in the Chicago Med episode. I’m not kidding. So is all of this coincidence? I don’t know, but if you have time to watch the Chicago Med episode, let me know what you think.

Alright, let’s get to it.

Unimportant thoughts:

Every time I see the interns, I wonder which ones will be killed off this season. So far, I am liking Glasses and Sam, and I hope they stay.

Was it intentional that Maggie’s patient had the same name as her Tinder date?

The idea that April and Owen worked in a war zone, but can’t figure out how to be doctors without computers is eye roll worthy.

IT guy Tim is either the hacker or just a genuinely socially awkward person.

Carina and Arizona have chemistry. Sam and Deluca have chemistry. I know the showrunners are capable of seeing chemistry. So, why…nevermind.

Why was that birth scene so anti-climactic? I wasn’t worried or excited or happy or anything. It was missing something. Build-up maybe?

Jesse. What are you doing, boo? This man can act. He emotes every imaginable feeling with Sarah. He had hilarious, genuine scenes with Mark and Ben. Is he tanking this on purpose or is the lack of chemistry that bad?

Ben/Bailey – This story didn’t get much attention besides Ben’s workout scenes in the opening voiceover, and Bailey telling Webber she was mad he let Ben use the fire academy as a fellowship year. The only thing I got out of that line being dropped was that if the spin off fails, Jason George has an easy way to come back Grey’s. Always nice to have a fallback plan, I guess.

Meredith – “You win a Harper Avery, and you barely have any time for surgery anymore.” Meredith is annoyed at all the attention winning this award is giving her, and I’m annoyed that she’s annoyed. I just can’t feel sorry for her that people want to praise her too much. Amelia saying, “Not a real problem,” in response to her complaining was one of my favorite lines of the episode. Not only because it was like Amelia channeled my inner thoughts, but also because it is another example of how post-tumor Amelia is still exactly the same person as before and the writers have changed nothing about who she is besides her relationship with Owen.

Jolex – I love that Jo is Chief Resident, but like I said before, I don’t feel like I can feel proud of her because she basically got it by default. We all know if Jerrika had stayed on the show, she would have been Chief Resident, and there would have been multiple scenes of characters explaining to Jo that Stephanie is the better doctor. That said, I laughed when Jo was telling the interns not to be stupid, slow or make her look bad, to which Webber says that her speech needs work. Jo may never be Bailey, but she has the potential to be a great leader. I think their story, both the little boy and Paul returning, was the only interesting part of the episode, and the only story worthy of a mid-season finale.

Deluca and Sam – I’m ready for them to give us more than them having sex all over the hospital. I want to like them, but I need more right now. At least they have chemistry though. If they are going to throw a couple together without any explanation, at least, in this case, they have chemistry.

Awkward elevator scene – This recreation of the Mark/Derek/Mer/Addison/Rose elevator scene with Owen/Carina/Arizona/April made me half-smile, until I realized in the first scenario everyone was involved in the weird relationship mess, but in the second scenario April was only thrown in because she has no other story in this episode, but the show knows she is comedy gold. Sigh.

Webber/Bailey/Surgical Contest- Looks like Webber is going to be running the contest. That is unless this ransom thing ruins the contest, which I sincerely hope it doesn’t because it is one of the few storylines in the past season and a half that I have a little hope for.

Maggie/Jackson – Do the writers actually have a plan here? We have gotten so much conflicting information here that I have to wonder. One of two plans are being played out, but which one is it?

Plan One – The writers are actually trying to make Maggie and Jackson a thing.

Plan Two – This is all a terribly executed plan that will lead to Jackson and April finding their way back together.

But if we look at what we have to go on, there is no clear direction or answer. Debbie Allen said recently that this is a love triangle, Krista certainly hasn’t had many positive things to say about Japril online, and Jackson and Maggie have had more scenes together than Bokhee and Meredith. At this point If something is going to happen with Maggie and Jackson, what are they waiting for?? There are only so many chemistry tests they can do. Especially when they are failing all of them. And I refuse to believe that the show thinks they see some magic spark that 99% of the fans don’t. They call them family and siblings, but then have them say vague lines that make us wonder what they are actually talking about. It’s like the show is trolling the audience. They know they won’t work as a couple, but people are so against it, they are just trying to get a reaction now. There is zero chance that they posted a photo of Jackson and Maggie with the caption, “This is creepy,” and didn’t expect a reaction. Not to mention, none of the actors are promoting this ship. Jeanine Mason has played Sam for like an hour and she has been online talking ship names with fans. Jesse and Sarah, aside from a couple of Jesse troll moments, only like and share Japril tweets, while Kelly either ignores it all or likes ambiguous tweets about the story. If the actors don’t even talk about it online because they know there will be backlash, why in the world would the show go forward with it? And now we have confirmation that Sarah and Jesse are filming together again. So, was that planned all along? Was there a shift in the story because they saw it was failing? Was it meant to fail all along? Then we have Maggie and April looking for dates on Tinder and Jackson moping about not being able to buy happiness, so he buys everything else. And hey, while we’re at it, let’s bring in a stunt double for Sarah and bring Matthew back because things aren’t weird enough right now. And if they are trying to create moments between Maggie and Jackson, why do they keep ruining those same moments? Catherine walking in on them talking and calling Maggie his sister is believable, but the helicopter would have been the perfect opportunity to move this along. But they didn’t. Instead we got more flat, awkward conversation until the universe literally made them shut-up. Why is the show getting in the way of these moments unless it is intentional? Because it sure isn’t creating a slow burn. I have never seen a non-ship crash and burn as quickly as this one.

So, we’ll hang in there a little longer because that’s how much we love and appreciate Sarah/April and Jesse/Jackson. Hopefully the second half of the season brings stories they deserve.

#grey's anatomy #14x08

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thejokersenigma · 7 years

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Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 16

Hi Everyone - sorry this has taken longer than usual I’ve been trying to write it for a while and it started to become too long so I’ve split it into two chapters instead (and they are still really long!)

I apologise if this whole fanfic isn’t making much sense - I’m struggling to see the bigger picture and am sort of making this up as I go along! In future fanfics I will attempt to stay a bit more focused and have a better plan!

(Also sorry I apologise for something on every chapter I post - I have this constant need to justify the ‘not great’ parts of my writing! Damn self-confidence!)

Anyway - hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

I woke up when I attempted to turn over onto my left and instead gasped in agony at the pain in my right shoulder. After taking a deep breath I slowly lowered myself so I was led back down, clenching my jaw against the burning in my shoulder.

I blew my breath between my clenched teeth, feeling how the pain seemed to mainly concentrate on a piece of tight skin on my shoulder. I took short rapid breaths and it seemed to dull the sting slightly. I tried to open my eyes, but dried tears kept my lids sealed and I rubbed at them - choosing to only use my left hand when I found I could barely lift my right arm without more shooting pain. Then I finally opened my eyes and the world swam before me briefly before focusing on the morning light that filled the room.

I didn’t bother to take in my surroundings - my eyes immediately shot to my shoulder. I was in a tank top so I could see clearly that it was completely wrapped in bandages and a thick pad was on the front portion. There was a dark patch under the pad where my blood had pooled and I let out a wobbly breath as I took in the situation. How bad was it? Oh my God! What if I couldn’t use my arm?! Am I going to be basically one-handed for the rest of my life? I was panicking but I couldn’t test out my arm because it hurt too much to even attempt to lift it. However, I could still clench my hand into a fist – though the tension down my arm made me hiss in pain.

I looked around in the hopes of finding a doctor or nurse to talk to and then I noticed - I wasn’t in the same room as before. Someone had moved me; my bed was now in a private room all to myself. On my left was a door with a window panel through which I could see nothing but a rectangle of orange-walled corridor. Next to the door was a bunch of hospital machinery and spare heart monitors -ready to be hooked up to the next patient – and, directly in front of me, the wall was lined with laminated wooden storage cupboards, probably housing a variety of equipment and drugs, and shelves that held folders and more vases containing plastic flowers like my last room.

My eyes continued to travel around the room until they landed on a chair that sat in the right hand corner of the room next to a wide window. I jumped when I noticed him – causing me to gasp at the stab of pain in my shoulder. The Joker. He was propped up in the meagrely padded wooden hospital chair wearing smart black trousers and a deep red shirt that hung open to expose his chest. His eyes were closed, his head hung back and partially rested on his vibrant purple coat that was draped over the back of the chair. He was asleep. Thank god. I clutched my chest with my left hand in relief. My heart was still beating 10 to the dozen and this was clear thanks to my heart monitor that was beeping out of control. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, but I was still very well aware of the Joker’s presence only a few feet away.

The beating eventually returned close to a regular rhythm but the sight of him had thrown my mind back into the memories of last night. At the time I hadn’t really been aware he was in the room – not until just before I had passed out when I remember seeing flashes of familiar shades of red and green that could only be him. Even then I was certain he had messed with my mind so I didn’t completely trust what I saw. I really needed to stop having these adventurous evenings – it was exhausting me both mentally and physically and I was now incredibly bruised as well.

But the Joker had saved me. That I couldn’t deny. But why had he saved me? What did he have to gain – why would he bother? Why had the man in black said my death would be revenge? What would killing me have accomplished?

As much as I wanted to leave this room as soon as possible now I knew who I was sharing it with, I also knew I needed to talk to the Joker and get some answers. For the past few weeks I had so many questions and no way of getting answers unless I confronted the Joker head on – no funny business - though that was unlikely when dealing with the clown, but I had to try.

I wasn’t going to be the fool to wake him up though.

At the same time I wasn’t going to sit here forever waiting – I needed to get out of this bed - I needed water for my throat and a bathroom – who knows how long I’d been out. The act of getting out of bed was going to kill me though - but there was no other option. I pushed myself up using only my left arm, grimacing against the burning in my shoulder no matter how much I tried to keep my right side still.

I swung my legs out over the bed, surprised to find myself in a pair of grey jogging bottoms. I detached myself from wires and pulled my IV drip out carefully - cringing at the movement in my arm and the tweak as the needle left my skin. I let it fall so that it swung down beside the bed. I cradled my right arm against my body and stood up, feeling a bit shaky on my legs. My heart monitor was going crazy with the lack of pulse so I quickly pushed a load of buttons until it shut up – glancing quickly behind me to check I hadn’t woken the Joker up.

Happy I hadn’t, I waited till I felt steady enough on my legs before I head towards the door – each step was stiff from my lack of movement for who knows how long. I grabbed the door handle with my right hand, the arm still cradled to my chest with my left. I twisted it – trying to only move my wrist - and pulled the door toward me, nearly unbalancing myself in the process. I slipped through the door silently and looked up and down the corridor

“[Y/N]?!” I turned toward the voice to see Frost straighten up from leaning against the wall to the left of my door.

“Hi Frost.” I greeted weakly.

“It’s good to see you awake! But should you be out of bed? Does the Joker know?” he questioned quickly.

“He’s asleep in the chair.” I answered. “Why is he here?”

“He hasn’t left your side the whole time you’ve been out.” He stated. I stood in silence processing this. Why?! It so frustrating that I didn’t understand his actions in the slightest. Most people you could predict, but the Joker was definitely not one of them.

“Frost what on Earth has been happening?” I asked hoping I would at least get a straight answer from him.

Frost didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be contemplating what to tell me. “Please Frost,” I whined, “I just want some answers!”

He sighed, “Well, after you passed out at the club the other night, boss put me onto to working out what had happened. We found a man who had been tailing you and CCTV showed him buying you a drink before the meeting.” He paused as he watched me take in the information. I nodded to show I understood. “We believe it was drugged and so caused you to pass out. After you were placed in hospital we tracked him and found he was planning another attack - presumably because his last hadn’t worked.

Boss left immediately after that without me. When I finally caught up and got to your room you were passed out and collapsed in a corner, with boss bent over you with shirt pressed to your bullet wound.” He explained gesturing to my bandaged shoulder as I tried to hide my surprise at this information.

“How long have I been out?” I questioned quietly.

“4 days.” He said gently.

“And he never left?”

“Never. When I arrived we moved you back onto your bed. When the doctors wanted to move you to a new room he nearly killed them all. Then, later - when they wanted to remove the bullet and stitch you up in the operating theatre - they asked him to leave the room and he ended up shooting a few until they decided it was wisest to just let him sit in the corner.” Frost chuckled quietly to himself whilst I just stared at the hideous orange wall in front of me in shock.

Frost noticed my silence and lack of response and his smirk dropped to a look of stern concern, “[Y/N] I strongly suggest you get back into bed and rest – especially before the Joker finds you have gone.”

“Sorry Frost,” I apologised quickly pulling myself out of my stupor, “I came looking for a restroom and a drink.” I explained knowing he was looking out for me - and himself - against the Joker’s temper.

Frost grabbed a passing nurse and explained the situation. She looked a bit shocked at the circumstances – knowing fully well who Frost was and making the connection with me - but she gathered herself quickly when she saw my condition and led me down the hall to the nearest toilets. She dropped me off at the door, promising to get me some water before she left, carrying on down the corridor.

I got a little lost on the way back down the maze of corridors but I soon figured out the general direction when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and the subsequent screaming that echoed through the hallways. The Joker was awake. I felt sorry for Frost – he had tried to stop me and really didn’t deserve the anger that was now probably raining down on him. I would have run back to help him if every movement didn’t send searing pain up my arm.

As I turned the last corner I saw the Joker threatening Frost and some unlucky doctor who must have been passing by at the wrong time. “Hey! Leave them alone!” I called out bravely and walked as quickly as possible up to them.

Joker spun around aiming his gun at me. I could see his pale muscles flex with his movements and I gulped not realising I had stopped breathing. I thought I saw his eyes lightened slightly when he saw me, but it could have been a trick of the light because his then eyes flickered down to my arm cradled against my stomach and his gaze darkened. “Doll.” He growled before grabbing my good arm and hauling me back into my hospital room and throwing me roughly in the direction of the bed before crossing the room so he stood at the foot of the bedstead. I hissed in pain as I landed on my bad arm on the mattress and I felt tears swell in my eyes.

I blinked them away as the joker paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, his shirt flapping against his sides when he spun. I pulled myself up with my good arm, keeping my bad arm tucked up close to me, so I sat cross legged in the middle of the sheets and watched his movement. I let my bad arm rest limply in my lap and I could feel the hole in my shoulder throbbed like a second heart beat.

I could hear him growling lowly to himself as he paced, his eyes hidden under his dark brows. He wasn’t paying me any attention – it was almost as if I wasn’t in the room.

Suddenly he raked his hands through his hair and seized handfuls of the vibrant green strands, “SHUT UP!” he screamed at himself and I visibly flinched at the sudden outburst. He must have noticed my movement because he abruptly dropped his hands and spun to face me. His hair was now dishevelled, some strands fell over his face and his eyes were bright with craziness.

I could feel the fear coursing through me at the sudden show of his insanity and I couldn’t stand the intense gaze on my face any longer so I dropped my head to look at my hands on my lap. Wrong. He lunged at me from across the room to grab my chin, yanking me forward and pulling my head up violently. “Look at me doll.” His breath skimmed over my nose and I brought my gaze to meet his icy eyes, knowing better than to disobey him – especially when he was this close to me. “Better.” He purred releasing my chin and stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers and moving his hand towards my hair. This is ridiculous – I didn’t t know where I stood with this man! I pulled back abruptly leaving his hand outstretched in mid-air.

“No. Stop with bloody mood swings!” I snapped. He snarled again, curling his upper lip up to reveal his silver caps.

“You are pushing you’re luck today aren’t you doll?” he rumbled lowly retracting his arm slowly and then slinked around my bed in a predatory fashion. He then jumped onto the bed lithely in front of me, playfully copying my position and sitting cross legged in front of me. I used my good arm to shift myself backwards away from his close proximity so that I was sat on pillow of the bed, my back pressed tightly against the plastic headboard. “Aww, don’t run away baby.” He pouted mockingly. I glared at him and he responded with an sickly sweet grin, “I’ll be good – cross my heart.” He promised making a cross like gesture on his chest. I continued to eye him cautiously. “Don’t believe me doll? I’m hurt!” he teased. I remained silent and guarded – wary for his next change of mood where I could suddenly find myself thrown across the room.

He let out an exasperated sigh at my poor cooperation with his teasing. “Ok. How about we play a little game?” he questioned with a wide Cheshire-cat-like grin. I raised a silent eyebrow at him in question. He was up to something.

“You have questions.” He presumed. I nodded. “And so do I” My eyes narrowed at this – here we go. “The rules are simple! You ask a question, I’ll answer it, if - and only if - you answer one of mine.” He explained. “So,” He said, folding his hands on his lap and his face becoming serious as though I was one of his many business partners, “Wanna play kitten?”

I tried to think this through - didn’t they say not to make a deal with the devil? But I wanted answers and this was as good a way as any to get them. Sure he got to ask me one too but I didn’t really have that much to hide – he could probably find out whatever he wanted to anyway and, heck, he probably already had. I had nothing to lose.

I nodded briefly. “Fine.” His lips slid up into a sly grin and I suddenly felt like I made a terrible mistake. Gone was his mocking and jokes. The devil had arrived.

#joker x reader #deadly voice #deadly voice fan fiction #deadly voice fanfic #deadly voice part 16 #joker #joker fanfic #joker fan fiction #joker x reader fanfic #joker x reader fanfiction #jaredleto joker #jaredleto joker fanfic #jaredleto joker fanfiction #jokersengima

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jadedamber · 6 years

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So you’re slugging it as a temp...

I’ve debated whether it would help anyone if I posted my thoughts on temp workers in office situations in general and in creative fields in particular, and decided, heck, yes, maybe. So here goes.

I’ve been a creative supervisor in corporate field long enough to have gone through managing a number of temps, and while some (two, let’s be real) managed to stay on to become permanent additions to our department, we parted ways with a much greater number of temps who did not work out for various reasons.

If anyone reading wants to break into a design job, and is roughing it as a freelancer/temp for now, hopefully this will help you up your game.

Things to remember right off the bat:

I. If you’re getting hired as a temp, it probably means one of two things:

1. The company is cheap as hell and doesn’t want to pay for full time workers, and/or 2. It’s a temporary and sudden crunch time, and they need bodies to throw at the crisis.

Both of these things mean that the poor shmuck who will be supervising you is overworked, overstressed, and does not have enough time and resources to train you. It’s not their fault. Most of them would train/hire you in a heartbeat if they had that power. Most of them are happy you’re there, and are dearly invested in you picking up the necessary skills to succeed (because your failure will be on that supervisor’s head).

That means:

II. Attitude is everything. I mean, I’ve had workers who came in with false information about what the job would be (for various reasons) and panicked/resented the fact that they did not know the things we needed from them, but because some of them were open to learning, I had no problem teaching them on the fly, and one such former temp just had their second annual review, if you catch my meaning. It was a good review, too. The other ones used their time with my team as a learning experience and a resume fodder. Still others were gone after a couple of miserable days.

Plus, a good reference from your direct supervisor is a commodity (as I’m learning), and when you’re a temp, your supervisor knows you’re most likely looking around, so most of them are less twitchy about being asked for those.

III. If the supervisor tells you to please ask questions if you don’t understand something - TAKE THEM UP ON IT! I cannot stress it enough. My teammates and I would much rather be interrupted in our work than have to redo something that was done incorrectly due to assumptions or lack of knowledge - or worse, be confronted with the mistake with 15 minutes to hand-off time. If something does not feel right, say something. If something doesn’t add up - speak up. It won’t make you look incompetent, I swear. No one expects a temp to know all the ins and outs of a particular company.

That brings me to next point:

IV. No one cares if you project-managed elsewhere. I don’t care if you delegated tasks to others before. Here and now, I am your boss and if I say we have to do it a certain way, don’t fucking cowboy it out. If you think there’s a better way, and your supe seems cool, by all means, voice it (in a concise way, please) but don’t salute ok and then do it your way because it’s better in your opinion. You may not know something. There might be reasons that are beyond your scope of knowledge. If your boss seems too busy/assholish, ask your teammates.

V. Ask your teammates about your supervisor. If they seem reluctant to answer, that should be as clear a signal as if they complained to you for an hour. On the other hand, in my experience, if the boss is cool, people will be pretty happy to tell you. Take them seriously, but watch non-verbal cues, of course, as those are more accurate, usually.

VI. If your goal is to learn as much as possible and move on - GO ALL IN. Ask your teammates questions, watch how they do things, pick up the lingo, volunteer for difficult tasks. And most of all, shut up and listen. I mean it kindly. If your goal is to learn, then don’t waste your time teaching (or explaining how wonderful you are). You’re there for knowledge, not an ad campaign (unless you’re temping at an ad agency (I’m hilarious, I know, shut up)).

VII. Remember, you’re “just a temp”. I don’t mean it in a derogatory way, but as a reality check. So you think you’re more talented/better worker/whatever than this full-timer over here? Watch and learn what it is that made the company hire that person. You might not want to copy them, but you should at least know what the rules of the game are. Until you find your stride/voice/strengths, it helps to absorb whatever you can.

VIII. Remember, you’re “just a temp”. This also means that your career is not hinged on this job, so if you keep being treated like crap, pick up the subtle (or not so subtle) cues, and talk to your agency about finding another gig. It’s not worth getting shat on if there are other projects out there, and you won’t know until you ask your rep.

IX. Make yourself useful. Literally if you’re a temp and you become hella helpful to your supervisor, most of them will fight for you to become full time, if that’s at all a possibility. It doesn’t mean you have to be Gal Friday (or Guy Friday) and be a perfect employee. For example, one of my teammates freaks out every time I split her project with another person, but in a crisis situation she’s the one most likely to stay late and get it done, and I value the shit out of her for that. Another one is kind of slow and I don’t give her any of the most urgent projects, but trust me, if there’s anything that takes finesse and painstaking labor, she’s my go-to person. So, if you act like your boss has to, like, deserve your best effort - nobody cares. No one owes you to “get to know you” or discover you. You might be a fabulous painter, but if you can’t cut a straight line (literally a recent problem we had), I’m sorry, but I can’t use you. Go find a job painting, not working in a fast-paced corporate environment.

X. Take them seriously. This should be a no-brainer, but somehow, it’s something that keeps coming up. I respect your right for self expression, but if the company policy states that you can’t wear graphic t shirts, please fucking listen. If you’re supposed to come in at a certain time, please listen. If you’re told that you’re supposed to check in after a certain task, even though you’ve been doing that task since before you were born and can perform it asleep, drunk, in negative degree weather, on your head - please. please. fucking. listen.

I just had to let someone go who was very surprised at the news, despite having had several private conversations/warnings regarding following instructions, and it was frustrating for both of us. They thought they were being very productive, because they were doing so much. I thought they were a waste of everyone’s time and resources, because they kept screwing up - not for lack of knowledge, but because oh... they really meant it not to do THAT to a cricut machine... huh. And oh, I guess THAT’s why you save this file a certain way. Like, I don’t got time to deal with that, bye.

BONUS: If you’re let go, very good chances are, no one will tell you the reason. Your now former supervisor is still overworked and overstressed, It’s an unpleasant conversation no one wants to have, and - since you clearly haven’t made good enough impression - nobody cares about you to give you some tips for the future.

That’s ok - take the silence as your one huge cue, try to remember all the times things went wrong and what, in retrospect, you should have done differently. Again, you were just a temp, it’s not like you messed up your chances at the Project Runway or American Idol or whatever.

Just learn.

It’s not fun, and it’s tough, but hey, you’re the one who wanted a creative job.

Plus it could be that it’s not even you - the agency’s fee might’ve gone up, the big boss has deemed that the crisis has passed (whether it’s true or not), or the budget for a temp has dried up. Most big bosses I’ve dealt with really seem to not consider the fact that temp workers have lives and budgets like the rest of us, and it’s ok to just tell the agency we don’t need them to come in anymore. If your supe is cool, and they have insider knowledge, they WILL warn you if they at all can and they feel like they can trust you not to throw them under the bus.

Use this also to figure out if that is the field you want to be in. One of my best teammates had no clue what they wanted to do after college, temped for my team, and realized they were really into consumer goods (vs. say, web or ad jobs). Another temp knew she wanted to do publishing, worked with us anyway, confirmed it for herself, and left to follow her dream. You just don’t always know right from the start, and it’s ok.

All of the above used to seem very common sense to me, but life disabused me of that notion. And because I realize not everyone is on the same level in life, I hope me sharing these tips will help someone to succeed in this field that increasingly wants more and more experience for entry level positions. Because sometimes temp work is how you get there.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

#creative #corporate #design #graphic design #temp workers #freelance #advice

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kkukkung · 7 years

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Im crying in the school bathroom rn I seriously love wonho so much I'm in pain why is he my ideal guy in every way he's so amazing and handsome and sweet but whO CARES BEVause he don't kno me haha am I right

big mood all the time im always in pain bc he rly................ doesn’t KNOW i would let him shave off my eyebrows if he wanted 2

tardy replies as usual under the cut!

(sorted from oldest to newest)

I wouldn't even care if wonho was a high maintenance boyf tbh I'd just sit and comb his hair all day and tell him he's pretty

hdjkfh this was so long ago but i think i was mostly kidding abt him being a high maintenance bf... like he would do so much giving? but i guess the only thing he’d need is constant reassurance that his s/o loves him imo jfdhgjk... i also think he’d b someone who either doesn’t settle down ever or does it very late in his life!

annie 🌹literary queen ❤️ literally crowned with a laurel wreath! not be drum attic but this midsummer nights monsta au is so!!!! give me sistar as the four star crossed lovers then drag me to h*ll and give me this doctor faustus au i'm itching for with kihyun as faustus and k.will as mephistopheles bc i love to watch my faves s*ffer but don't let me rip until i get my much ado about nothing au with the entire cast of starship ent and a lil cameo from giriboy!

(in refence to this monsta x as shakespearean archetypes ask!) fjdshgkjs shh i lov u... why is k will as mephistopheles so Accurate esp no.mercy k will lmao. um u should write all of these? in fact if... if anyone has mx literary aus.... hmu...... i’ll n*t

another thing about that incident is that it seems like the fan doesn't think Changkyun and Jooheon undersood them?? (an extension i guess they assumed they don't understand english very well) and that's pretty problematic. it seems to me that when they didn't respond the fan assumed they didn't understand and kept repeating it, as a joke. but they literally did That to the two with the most proficient english in the group... it's rly a mess all around. it's disrespectful through and through

(in relation to that gross “d*ddy” incident from a while ago) ik i feel like some intl fans think korea is a land completely culturally and linguistically alienated/divorced from the rest of the world or something and while cultural relativism is real to some extent... the idea that koreans are completely unaware of ~outside~ things is deeply racist. like mostly white ppl think that diasphoric poc are completely Different from them? when my mum went to the states 15 years ago some ppl literally asked her if there were newspapers in china lol...

i just randomly thought of monsta x as sesame street characters mostly bc i wanna see kihyun and wonho duke it out as bert and ernie (kihyun w/ the waste paper bin on his head and wonho asking 'where's the waste paper bin' and kihyun saying 'ask me that again and look into my eyes') and also minhyuk being elmo tbh...

JKGHKJDF PLEASe!!!! when will something like this b photoshopped... minhyuk as elmo is... spot on... i remember once elmo appeared on a now-discontinued late night talk show program i used to watch when i was in primary school and he was like “elmo likes wasabi, that’s why elmo has no eyebrows” and idk why ive never been able to forget this????? very lmh. also this made me think of a monsta x muppets au n minhyuk is the pic of ass-gape kermit.... next post of mine will b monsta x as kermit reaction pics

Hyungkyun is such an under appreciated ship. Like, they just get each other so well? Why do people overlook it. ㅠ.ㅠ Do you have a moment that made you ship them? How would you describe their dynamic?

it’s bc they’re intp x intj they don’t rly... Understand each other with minimal effort/real communication lmao it’s very efficient. both quiet lil darlings who aren’t emotionally That Open but enjoy their own little space together sometimes?? their dynamic is like... they’re weird in different ways but they’re v chill together. u can tell hyungwon is super fond of changkyun like he has this Expression when ck does anything at all.... i think these two rly love each other’s personalities bc they’re both kind/gentle/peaceful types and their overall ?? vibe is just highly compatible... they’re absolute darlings... v soft together... i can’t think of a favourite moment but i rly rly love their birthday messages for each other last year like changkyun’s message for hyungwon was like “ur rly cool bruh ur rly such a great person” and hyungwon’s message for changkyun was rly... just him obviously doting on him n finding him cute jksfdhg i lov them a lot :(

soyou: i know how to make hair pretty :))) knetz: dirty fckn iljin why can't she be out there being being PRODUCTIVE in society by having babies and learning how to be a good wife for her future husband ://// smh how dare she be successful now when i'm stuck doing what society wants me to do but also anonymously attacking ppl i don't personally know on the internet bc THATS respectable the irony of ugly knetz is so transparent

The whole thing about Knetz and wonho's "scandalous" past reminded me of something. As a PSA to those people who are so insistent and pushy that idols aren't allowed to have sex/date/be anything but straight: Fuck all of you. You do not own these people, and if you really cared about them you'd be happy if they were happy. Like tbh, if anyone that famous and busy could also balance out a relationship at the same time, I'd be so happy for them. It really bugs me how all idols are supposed (1/2)(2/2) have this squeaky clean innocent image where they have to look and act a certain way and have these stupid fucking dating bans because once they don't meet up to that image their success suffers. Idols already give up so much privacy, and the last thing they need is millions of people scrutinizing every little thing they do. I don't even know where I started this rant from, but basically, GIVE IDOLS PRIVACY AND DONT JUDGE THEM FOR THEIR PASTS OR FOR BEING IN RELATIONSHIPS OR WHATEVER

yeth ty for highlighting the gross obsession w purity and productivity (like the first anon said -- a very confucian sort of ideal)... i don’t rly have anything else to add here i think. also i would fight for soyou i fact i would fight lmh who said she was his ideal type in no.mercy era... she’s rly one of my faves and the way she was slandered for the hairdressing thing was one of the most ridiculous things knets ever did lmao honestly yuk

u a kihyun stan now👀👀👀

im a @fhiz stan it’s the same thing tbh

ahh so i saw your tags on that jh gifset! as one of the few jh stans (or maybe there are way more than i think there are lol) i rly love his "reversal charm." he has a lot of what i lack as a person: a strong presence and a lot of confidence! i respect him so much as a person alth i rag on him a lot LMAO. sorry if this is a bit long winded but i just rly wanted to put this out there ;;

this is rly cute i lov hearing ppl talk abt their faves lovingly it rly... Heals Me. i think it’s strange how underappreciated jooheon is in this fandom especially bc he’s usually the one who catches ur eye first bc he’s so hyped by starship as being a one-in-a-million talented rapper u know? and he rly shines in mvs and no.mercy but............. y does he have the least fansites jkfhdg ?? you’re v right abt the reversal charm thing but i feel like sometimes it’s very overdone like... on lots of shows he’s asked to do aegyo when rly he should be asked to... idk... rap or dance or something?? i actually think jooheon is the most serious member of monsta x sometimes bc he seems to have a sense that he’s.. the pillar of mx if that makes sense? and that’s why he’s always pushing himself and working tirelessly like he feels very Responsible for this group, more than anyone else. idk if that makes sense!!! i love him and i want him to... unwind a bit bc sometimes he looks so stressed and tired but he still feels the need to pretend to be energetic like my heart rly hurts for him :/ this got so emo im sry i do rly love to hear that u respect him sm i love jooheon stans :(

i can see what u mean about jooheon being 1 of the most masculine. (iirc u also talked abt kihyun being that in a post a while ago) like with his face and his physique he really is striking; his body=like that slim,upside-down Y that you'd learn to draw men w/ in Anatomy 101 , but i think.. ,--not that u asked, but,, i think the jury's still out on if he's comfortable w his masculinity with the way he acts feminine lyk misogynistic comedians Can sound like dead ringers for women,? idk & i take +

(not sure if there was a 2nd part to this? there’s nothing else in my inbox so i’m sry if there was and tumblr ate it) yeth i think i meant that his demeanor is the most ~~masculine~~ whereas i think kihyun is still the most... idk... mature-masculine?? if tht makes sense, and i definitely agree w u on that second point! i didn’t think of that at the time but now that i... do... think abt it... ur right and also the way he comes back from it by putting on the >swag demeanor again in an attempt to polarise it is definitely a bit 👀👀👀 he probably doesn’t want to risk his Manly Rapper Image for real u kno? that said it’s ingrained in kpop that behaving cute --> “girly” entails that sort of “comedic” high-pitched voice + compact body language etc.... like i’m not condoning that ofc but i definitely think it’s broader than this particular case! :/ hm

maybe i'd be doing better in school if i could major in kihyunology ;~; i stan him but i def think we still don't know much about him even after all this time after debut. especially when i look at him compared to wonho who wears his heart on his sleeve (bless him i love wonho sm, gotta protect this bun at all costs!!)...but ya it just makes me wanna learn more about him like who is the real kihyun??

i want to write a kihyun meta when i have time... i feel like i Get him a bit more these days but it’s also very hard to put into words bc u kno when u kinda sorta mb get some1 but it’s a feeling rather than anything conveniently expressable gkjdhfjk.... idk if anyone wants to send in some Kihyun Thoughts + Meta feel free! :>> i don’t think he’s actually... as complex as we sometimes make him out to be lol like his behaviour is actually kind of predictable? more on his later

wait is the february comeback actually true? ugh i'm so conflicted cuz on one hand i'm excited if there's really gonna be a full length album, but i also think they need more rest but then there's the matter of getting their first win and idk i'm super psyched but i'm also worried that the boys are being overworked

i still feel like they had a comeback like yesterday lol like looking at their schedules stresses me out bc they do so much..... im glad wonho got to go to his mum’s cafe recently tho! all we can do is have faith in them rn and when it’s time... stream, buy things if ur able to, spread the news and the hype etc. i am definitely Worried abt some things like the competition they’re up against but.... gotta have faith u kno... and i feel like all active idols are kind of... permanently worked very hard but i think currently only jooheon and shownu are a bit Overloaded. also has the date been confirmed yet... it’s february already...

#i planned 2 answer more but im... sleepy...#soon... i will... catch up... and make this blog neater + more navigation-friendly #ask #compilation #Anonymous

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scarlett-carson · 7 years

Text

Its funny, but not in a HA HA HA kind of way

things have been...all over the godsdamn place of late ive been busy ive been broken ive been, a bit under construction of late. there was a bit of a phoenixing going on behind the scenes and maybe not everyone knew it. or maybe they did and i am not as lowkey as i fancy myself to be sometimes. there was a bit of a semi-public accidental crash recently, so... it doesnt matter. no, i mean it totally matters but thats...not the point of this recently, i went on vacation. there was a road trip with my sister and it was all kinds of things. it was, above all....FUCKING NECESSARY but. to the point of this post:: we were driving back from a week in daytona and it was the middle of the night and we were talking about things and stuff and nonsense and serious stuff and bullshit and like...everything...because that is kind of this thing that we do sometimes and shes had kind of a rough go in her own way and i think we both sort of needed a quality 3am talk about what one wants to do when they realize they dont have to camp out at rock bottom anymore and that there are options beyond "idk, just not die i guess" and in all of the talk about all of the things, she asked me why i stopped writing. (because she is a cunt and kind of a sadist) i dont have an answer for that i have a list of like...bullshit excuses for why i dont write depression lack of focus nothing to say impostor syndrome "i cant i have rehearsal" etc etc etc but i didnt have an ANSWER in that moment but i did tell her that recently, id been thinking a whole lot about how i miss doing slam and spoken word. that even if i dont have the stamina to write longform anything, doesnt mean i dont have things to say and that maybe it would be a way to get my legs back under me but i dont know because its been a really REALLY long time and what if i dont know how anymore and the rules have changed and like nothing i have to say is interesting to anyone else or like what if there is something i feel deep all the way into my marrow, but like someone else can say it better? this bitch has the audacity to pull over to the side of the road. like in the middle of fucking NOWHERE mountainsville, kentucky or wherever the fuck we were...and goes "so, its funny you should mention THAT. its funny, but not in a HA HA HA kind of way. i have to show you this thing. but its going to kick you in the face. long dramatic pause, because she knows just a little bit too much about my life possibly twice" ...and then shows me the following spoken word piece on her spotify playlist: ~~~~~~~ **We never promised each other much, we were always just kind of touch and go. as if we knew we'd know that somehow we'd grow differently. so we did and we do and none of this is to say that it wasn't worth going through or that i care any less about you. shoulders to lean on are hard to come by. I know because there were times I would have broken my own neck just so that I'd have one of my own to cry on. And I remember when each finger was a pawn moving slowly across the chessboard of your body and we made each game last. Passed up each avenue of attack because neither one of us were trying to win So how do we begin again when that feels like now and this feels like then? When all I can do is tell you "if you've got something that needs saying, tonight I'm paying dues." I've got a pocket full of blues and two pennies to rub together Which means I'm wealthy enough that I can finally afford to pay attention. I'm listening. And I know right now I'm somehow like that kid sitting in math class, terribly aware of his first boner. It's hard. But difficulty has never been a good enough reason to describe the effort it takes to make the good times and the memories worth having. And they were and they are and I wouldn't have come this far if you weren't worth the sleepless nights where abandoned appetites of a heart, now rail-thin, because of the constant hunger strikes. In your absence, I'm finding value, because what starves you carves you, and I'm chipping away the rough edges of a statue built to memorialize everything we've been through. And when I'm done, I'm gonna set it against the backdrop of the sun and stare just no matter where I go, it'll always be etched into the back of my mind, stenciled in behind whatever future I have left to find. Maybe we were never meant to last. Maybe we're only meant to reflect fondly upon a past where we cast ourselves in the lead role of a one-year sitcom. One that had the critics standing, while putting hand to palm, in an ovation we're still getting curtain calls for. And the stage floor was a graveyard for the freshly cut roses that we waded through to take our bows and say thank you. It was beautiful. And it was and it is and none of it was ever show-biz. But we were waiting for lights to dim on a stage where we set ourselves to music. As if the swelling violins could ever mimic the hidden moments found in the theatre where we kept audiences stapled to their seats. And they watched us, looking for vacancies they could occupy in the spaces between our heartbeats, as if silence was a room for rent, and we both went "shh." But the beats themselves: they were loud enough to drown out the applause. And we laughed at the ushers left looking in the aisles for the dropped jaws of patrons who still can't believe we took time to find beauty in the flaws we possess. That there's only something better to be found in allowing our collective damage to coalesce. And all we confess of ourselves forever is that we will make it through this. We're gonna make it through this, like a big-ass jug of kool-aid with legs and arms busting through a brick wall to quench the thirst of our loneliness and say "fuck yeah." Yes, I miss you. When I'm not looking, the softest parts of me will issue restraining orders. Not the kind that define borders or boundaries; these are the kind that will keep me in place when I ask "please, call me when you get there." Because every somewhere I go to, is just another place that reminds me I miss you. And my broken heart is where I keep the scar-tissue that I used to dry my eyes when a tear tries to make a break for it. I've built my eyelids into an Alcatraz, where every prisoner has a parole board meeting scheduled for yesterday. And they played dominoes until time comes full circle, like a sunrise, and today tries to set them free because they'll be locked up here until I let them go, until it's safe to let you know you're my best friend. And that some things end so that other things can begin. Sometimes an ending can be an origin. That history is a resin that can keep two people stuck together, that change can be a tether if you let it. I'll always want to kiss you. Or touch you. Or do that thing that drives you crazy. And by that, I mean you literally go crazy when I call you "cranky pants." Sorry, but it makes me laugh. And that's important to someone who's given more than half of their life to tragedy. I keep your side of the bed empty with a just-in-case mentality of that hope's middle name is maybe and maybe you miss me too. One day, you and I are going to make it through this. And we'll look back and we'll realize that we have, and we did, promise. PROMISE--shane koyczan** ~~~~~ go ahead and take a minute take all the time you need because i needed fucking 20 minutes and i am pretty sure i stopped breathing we sat there in dead silence at almost 4 am on a dark as mountain road and she just held my hand while silent tears fell out of my stupid fucking face. because, like she knew she would be... she was not wrong. she was so very very not wrong. i got back to chicago on monday i have spent the last few days (still not writing) debating like...what to do with this. do i post it on Other Social Media? do i text a youtube link? do i tag everyone who crossed my mind as i listened to it the first time? (for the record, it is probably exactly who you expect, AND...other people you wouldnt so, there's been some unpacking too like "why them, though") do i sit in the corner of my shower and just cry about it for a while until it shifts from "pathetic" to "cathardic" and do i even remember where that line IS anymore? and like...sure i could direct send it but would they even read it? would they get it? would they understand? ...does it fucking matter what they think? and in all of the debating and unpacking i realized one thing: not really, no. things that resonate with ME, wont always register with Person X--certainly not always in the same way--and like...that is kind of okay, actually they dont have to get it its not for them its my thing other people will think its pretty cool, though and i can show them and those people will get excited...it only becomes problematic when Person X disregards that it resonates at all that is a dick move and like...if i, as a person. as a fucking force with which to be reckoned...resonate with so many people WHY should i keep trying to share that resonance with people who just kind of "meh" about it when i could just show it to the other people who think its pretty cool. so fuck it i will put it here and people can see it and they can think that its pretty cool or "meh" and thats ok but i should probably stop being my own Problematic Person X...

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