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larkral · 1 year

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I’d love a director’s cut commentary for the first chapter of Good at Something if you’re up for it!

If not (and even if you are) here’s a ⭐️ to talk about another piece of writing you’d like to talk about! 😘

Ohho! Thank you SO MUCH for asking. I... uh, went a little hard on this. Good at Something may be my magnum opus? So, uh, yeah I am obviously going to take the opportunity to drop a 1,000 word meta about it. Below the cut because I don't want to destroy anyone's dash. 😘

So, the first thing to know about this story is that literally it started with me and rainnorwind(/@petedavidsonscock) yes-and'ing about Baz and Simon being in the midst of an enemies with benefits situation and Baz telling Simon he wasn't very good at blowjobs and so they might as well just snuggle and Simon being like: "fuck that, I am going to destroy you (sexually) and prove you wrong." Which, obviously that exact scenario doesn't happen in Good at Something, but hopefully the relationship between the two concepts is easy to tease out. Anyway, all due credit to rainnorwind, without whom this story would absolutely not exist.

The first scene on this was a BITCH, because I knew when it took place (per my notes on September 8th, the day before term starts), but I didn't want the reader to have to place themselves in a specific timeline quite yet. I did want to trade on some of the things we know about canon though: namely that Simon is likely crying about The Mage being a dick to him. Baz is also obviously not numpty-kidnapped, which I never explain because it's not what this story is about. I think, however, that it's reasonable to assume that Baz's presence at Watford pre-term is also part of the reason that Agatha broke up with Simon prior to this scene, as we all know that Simon almost certainly wouldn't cheat on Ags at that point in his character arc.

Anyway, so, all that was in the planning, but I didn't want to make any it happen onscreen, because while it established the emotional stakes for the initial scene, it's not tonally valuable for what this scene is actually doing, which is: "I imagine you could be passably good at sucking my dick." So I percolated for a LONG time on how to get to that line without too much lead up, and this is where I landed.

So, then there's the first blowjob. Which I'm not going to dissect too much, because the goal was that it happen and be a bit fraught and awkward and also exceedingly enjoyable and hot for everyone. I think I succeeded, and I hope you do too. Something interesting about this scene that I didn't even realize I was doing until re-reading this story during editing was that Baz threads his fingers in Simon's hair and adoringly focuses on his moles and freckles, which comes up on every or nearly every sexy scene in this whole story. And it started here, y'all.

Okay then, Simon's POV comes in and guys he LoVeD it. Also like, okay you can have some of his emotional backstory, if you insist. Also I very subtly and suavely mention the visitings. No reason for that, I'm sure. 😉🤫😂

At this point I feel honor bound to mention that the emotional arc for Baz is loosely going from despair that Simon is having sex with him and doesn't like him to the realization that Simon does like him, and Simon goes through a similar thing, the actual primary arc for Simon is going from extreme self doubt (because he's been continually asked as the chosen one to do things that put him badly out of his depth and offered little to no practical or emotional support on those tasks) to self assurance because he is in fact Good At Something. As several reviewers pointed out, this is a very Simon positive story, a vibe I embrace with gusto.

So, blowjob number two may be my favorite blowjob of this fic. Or maybe I feel that way about all of the blowjobs in this fic? Hard to say, really. But the full section after Baz says he wants to come on Simon's face is, in my humble opinion, out of this world good. Legitimately it makes me weak and I cannot believe I wrote it I love it so goldarn much.

Blowjob number three! Wherein the lead up includes for, again, no reason whatsoever, an extensive description of why Baz has spent next to no time in their room this far in the semester. Mysterious. And of course this is the through-the-pants blowjob Which they both feel some kinda way about. As did many readers, and honestly as do I.

Fun fact about this blowjob! It was completely absent in the first draft of this story. The first draft moved immediately from bathroom blowjob to music room blowjob and also didn't yet include the idea that all the blowjobs were visitor-blocking Natasha. After finishing the first draft of chapters 1-3(ish) I had to really self-reflect and decide whether and how much I wanted the ¡surprise! plot to play into the story. And in order to get the plot to work better, I decided I just *had to* add a couple more blowjobs. You know, for plot reasons.

And I couldn't be happier about that, because this section includes one of my absolute favorite lines:

It's like a mystery, like a puzzle, like a maze and a sphynx and a faerie's curse and all the while I know where I'm going. I know where I need to be, and I know that I'm taking him with me and when he tightens his fingers in my hair and strokes his knuckles against my temple and gasps and gasps, I know we're getting there, we're almost there.

As well as a dark horse line that approximately 50% of reviewers called out: "His fingers tease at the points of fabric like an oft-opened envelope—like I'm a letter he's tucked away in his chest pocket to be read again and again."

And also like, okay, since this is an exercise in navel-gazing, I'll just toot my own horn once again: I think this is a very hot blowjob scene.

And then a tiny bit of Simon angst, because, (spoilers,) the "there" they're getting to is emotional intimacy as well as physical intimacy. Hard to believe, but as the author I can assure you it's true.

Fin ;-)

P.S. if you were into this, please prepare yourself I am definitely going to be doing one for the last chapter of Good at Something as well.

#good at something #my writing #meta #meta about smut #simon snow and the 190 blowjobs #snowbaz

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mejomonster · 10 months

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Also yeah I did realize I contradicted myself ToT by saying I wanted a break from Silent Reading type crime mystery realism stories, just to immediately go find poyun in chinese and the English translation (which is by like 3 groups so I'm piecing together where to find all chapters) and then go on bilibili to watch fanmade music videos

;-; I remember the leak like YEARS ago now that potentially Cheng Yi and Liu Xueyi would play the leads in poyun 2 tunhai adaptation that was getting made. Which I assume may never see the light of day... (but that'd absolutely be Dream scenario if it existed)

I remember back then, the leaks also came for Silent Reading's drama casting. With fei du being picked fairly consistently, but Luo wenzhou having multiple picks with the actual guy in Justice in The Dark not being any of the rumored guys. I remember being SO excited and scared for it because I LOVE Silent Reading and feared it would get made so poorly, cast so poorly, look as visually yikes as Granting You a Dreamlike life etc... and also I figured if only X danmei got to air (word of honor and 2ha being rumored back then) then I figured modus certainly wouldn't make the cut. Because it was full of content that'd be potentially censored. Not just gay stuff but a Lot. And then like... like an absolute miracle, a completely unpredictable unforseen possibility. It actually did air partly. During a year when technically no danmei at all did (post Word of Honor), because League of Nobleman may be bromance but as far as I'm aware wasn't adapted from a danmei novel so it wouldn't have the same Critical Eye on it (I'm assuming it's more a dmbj situation). And those 8 episodes? They were good. They were better than I ever even dared imagining was a possibility. They were more than I could've ever hoped, so much exactly what I would've wished if I'd ever dared to let myself wish (which I didnt). And because of that absolutely unforseen surprise, I'm still very stubbornly (probably clownishly) going to assume some day the rest releases. Please.

(Though rationally I think... if big budget well made 2ha's Immortality airs, or Sha Po Lang's cdrama airs, there's hope for bl danmei/dangai show releases again. I say that because frankly so much money and investment of quality was put into 2ha's Immortality that i imagine the company's who own it would like that monetary payoff if there is ANY way to still air it eventually. And once it does air, it will be a temperature gauge: does it get so popular or so much attention in negative ways that there's Another long term halt of danmei releases, like right after Word of Honor? Does it release relatively calmly like The Untamed and pave the way for the plethora of currently-held danmei cdramas to get to air afterward? If the second option is true, then it's likely Sha Po Lang will air soon after... or wait several months so they get more of their own hype without competition, and it's likely the Eons of less Anticipated danmei adaptations start releasing again with less intense scrutiny like The Way of The Bat, Of Mountains and Rivers, etc. So I think... if Immortality manages to release and fully air, it'll set the tone of what is released after for the next year+. And that drama I find most likely to release next, just because there's a lot of money in it. Then I guess... the wildcard prediction is Justice in the Dark fully drops at some point like magic again, stealing steam and attention... or another unexpected smaller production danmei adaptation dares to drop. Then because it gets so much attention as an Unanticipated but Only danmei out, that'll set the tone but the tone will probably still be "NO more" until a big danmei airs. That's my thought process anyway... a reaction to a big danmei adaptation may predict if other less big ones are allowed to easily air again, or if there will be none for a while. I saw that Marcus guy mention that there were rumors of Immortality trying to release this summer. But honestly? Who knows.

Now. If you want to believe in something as illogical and senseless as superstition. I made a bet that Immortality would air when my health issues improved. And well. I ate pizza for the first time again in like 3 years. I'm seriously considering maybe lowering my medicine dose soon. So lol based on my Completely Illogical superstition? I predict a release for Immortality in August to September, if it's this year.

As for Justice in the Dark? I desperately hope the companies involved straighten up their mess, and re-release and finish releasing with no warning asap. I would like to hope it just all leaks accidentally like Joy of Life did. But I think it's more likely (although still magically unpredictable) the show will just suddenly reappear, as randomly as it did the first time. It's a Well made fucking show. It's like a good budget crime kdrama, it's fucking excellent. So i hope it sees the light fully eventually.

Anyway just... I'm nostalgic from when all the news of danmei adaptations came out... and against many factors, I still wish somehow they do come out. I'd love to see Poyun realized as a show. I remember seeing Justice in the Dark the first day, and just blown away beyond any assumptions I couldve had, that the show was really everything me and fan made videos alike had envisioned for the novel in shoe form, and more.

#rant #poyun #justice in the dark #anyway it looks like im probably reading zhenhun poyun and then in english my fanfic wmmsd lol

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transsexual-dandelions · 16 hours

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Do you think it's weird that mickey makes me feel like gender envy to a point? I've always gone back and forth on gender identity. The majority of my life I've been fine and felt like myself as my birth gender (female) I went through a period of time for a few years where I identified as non-binary, and then that didn't feel right anymore and I just kinda fell back into presenting as female, and I've been okay with that. But ever since finding shameless I have realized how much I am like mickey, and I find myself picking up mannerisms from him and when I dress more like masculine or androgynous, I am incredibly happy. But I'm also still happy presenting as female like 98% of the time???? I'm so very confused lol I use she/her pronouns, but I wouldn't be offended is I was referred to with they/them either. Does any of this even make sense? Wah sorry to ramble in your messages lol.

First, thank you for trusting me with this <3 I’m very honored, exploring your gender and presentation can be a very vulnerable thing

Second, I don’t think it’s weird! And it does make sense!

Something I think that everyone should know is that gender and sexuality can be very fluid, and sometimes you might just have the wrong label for the same feeling or have that feeling change over time. For example, there was a time I was a lesbian. I didn’t think I was one and was confused, there was a point in time where I was a woman who liked other woman! And somehow I reached the opposite end of the spectrum, a gay guy who likes other guys! On the other hand, I thought I was bi when I later realized I was ace, because “oh equal attraction” but zero attraction is not the same as equal, for me, anyway. I do hope that makes sense.

You gender presentation and expression are not the same as your gender itself, which both makes it easier and infinitely more confusing. Sometimes it’s an indicator of who you are, and sometimes you’re just gender nonconforming and enjoy different presentations, and both are valid! And your presentation doesn’t have to match your gender itself! You can present extremely feminine, pass as a woman, and use they/them or he/him! Or as masculine as you want and pass as a male and use she/her!

Also! You can be several things! You can be both! Or multiple! Sometimes it’s complicated! You can be a guy who’s a lesbian! Or a girl who’s a gay guy! Or some other infinitely nuanced thing! Gender and sexuality contain multitudes! You can be two “contradictory” things!

If that’s something that appeals to you, I’d suggest reading about drag queens and butch lesbians more! And drag kings! I can find some things for you, if you’d like

To me, pronouns were the easiest but most time consuming thing to figure out. I just, switched between some amount for a few months and took note of how what made me feel. It’s ok when people casually refer to me with they/them or she/her, if they don’t know me it doesn’t really bother me, but well I’ve been out for five or so years and I still get super excited when someone calls me “he” or uses my name. And well, no experience is universal.

Also!! Perhaps look into pronouns behind the trinary! Have fun! You can make whatever pronouns you want! I love and will support neopronouns until the day I die! And nounself pronouns! Once you stop looking for cishet approval, you’ll feel a lot better! I love xe/xem! It’s comfortable! You’re also allowed to have only certain people use certain things for you! I love using it/it’s! But well, only when queer people do it! Especially trans! Because there’s that knowledge of knowing they understand to some degree, shared experiences and a deeper understanding of gender.

Gender euphoria might feel different for everyone, for me it’s very giddy and excited and generally !!! For others, I could imagine it as coming home after a long day or something comforting, your favorite sweater.

There’s the age old problem of not knowing if it’s gender envy or attraction, I’ve decided to ignore that for me because my gender and sexuality are so tied together? Like my gender IS gay guy and faggot yk? It’s just infinitely Queer, and my queerness is very radical to me

I don’t know the right words to explain it, besides it’ll just feel right and you’ll just know it eventually. It just Feels Right in my bones to be a trans masc genderqueer gay guy, and not a masculine straight girl.

Please please please don’t forget you can change it however much you want, forever. There is no limit!! I’m giving you permission to play fuck around and find out as much you want or feel the need to!

I hope this was helpful!! I just rambled a lot, reading about other people’s experiences and perspectives helped me figure out mine, especially diverse ones. There’s no rush or deadline to have this figured out by, take your time and I think it’ll hit you when it’s supposed to. Feel free to ask me any questions, I’m always willing to talk more !! I also might have book and reading recs tucked away if that’s something you’d be interested in!

#Apollo answers #queer #if I had to explain why I get gender envy from Mickey specifically. something something tattoos rugged bad boy uh Vibes #could not explain jt #there was this trend on TikTok like three years ago explaining my gender in pictures but it becomes increasingly more incoherent #ALSO. race can be a factor for various poc bc well different societal interactions and cultural interactions #I’m white so I don’t feel like I can properly speak on it. but I do remember reading abt studs and their specific interactions with communit

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donnabroadway · 1 year

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Neckdown dead

A few years ago on Iyanla Fix My Life, Iyanla coined a term called neck down dead, which is what she used when she felt a guest wasn't emotional enough about what happened to them. It was most often used when a guest could recall the trauma that brought them to her with a flat affect. I get it, this is a TV show, and admit it, we all watched because other people's drama makes us feel better about our lives and shortcomings, and there needs to be some emotions, even if they're fake, but sometimes a numbness comes about and I guess that's neckdown dead. You get to a point where things happen and you just shrug and keep it moving because you know the anger and tears are moot. There is a life to live, even if you're just going through the motions and sometimes, that is okay because an object in motion, stays in motion and eventually drift wood reaches shore. Sometimes you just go through the motions of living until it feels genuine. Sometimes, depression is a luxury you can't afford and everyone has opinions and advice but it's useless. One of my favorite quotes is from Meet the Robinsons and it says, keep moving forward. Sometimes neckdown dead is a defense mechanism to get you to the next day because if you truly allowed yourself to feel, it may be your 13th reason. As of right now, I am neckdown dead. Work, kids, family, the student loan crisis, and life in general are taking turns using your girl as a punching bag. I'm tired but I'm here and so are you and we're going to be here.

Traci Braxton died at 50 and all we really knew about her publicly is that she spent about half her life being upset at her sisters for moving forward with their record deal despite her being asked to leave the group for being pregnant. On the show, she was portrayed as bitter, angry, stuck in the past, hiding behind her husband, and was most famously called the "wannabe." The rift was so big that not even Iyanla could fix it and it is rumored that much of the Braxton family doesn't speak. The family couldn't even come together to honor Traci's last wishes as executed by her husband of more than 30 years and her son. If I was Traci, I wouldn't waste my time haunting them and if I saw them in the afterlife, I would side eye them. I say all that to say, that in spite of the setback, I hope Traci built a beautiful life that she truly got to enjoy. She seems to be the most stable, with a seemingly loving marriage, a son, daughter in law, and grandson that seemed to love her, and she had hobbies which included a motorcycle club. I hope she truly had joy in her life.

Years ago, Oprah stated that she changed her show format to one that was more confrontational and she realized it wasn't helpful. Yes, sometimes the confrontation is good in terms of lifting the weight off your spirit but sometimes it's just a confrontation. In a full transparent moment, I have been in therapy since I was 18 for several of the same issues, no clinical, and not much has changed in 18 years, despite my best efforts and at some point, you say "it is what it is" and leave it at a point of peace. You also realize that people, while polite in listening and sharing, often enjoy drama and your pain is a point of drama to them. People love mess, despite them declaring they don't "do drama." Yeah, drama surrounding them and their life but they will gladly watch with popcorn gifs other people's drama. It's not hypocrisy, it is human nature.

At some point, you have to ask yourself what is next? Are you going to spend the next 18 years rehashing the same drama, or are you going to make internal, personal changes, that have nothing to do with anyone else. It is okay to choose yourself because people will martyr you and not even blink twice. They will drag you into the proverbial gutter. They will drag you in the same circle and not even think twice or have any true remorse. You can choose yourself.

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

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The Purest Things-A New Home

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: this is a repost considering it didn’t show up in any of the tags yesterday. have i mentioned how much i despise tumblr sometimes :) again, i want to give a special shoutout to @avengersbau for giving me a second set of eyes on this one.

word count: 2k

warnings: canon-typical violence and descriptions of injury.

The Purest Things Masterlist

gif is not mine! credit goes to @hqtchner

au! october 2007

Bookend: “It’s never too late to become who you want to be. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of, and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

++++

"I am SSA Hotchner. Welcome to the team Agent Y/L/N," his voice reminds you of the transatlantic accents of Hollywood stars of old. The kind you used to hear in the old black and white movies you would watch as a child.

"It's an honor to be here sir," you stare directly into his brown, soulfully deep eyes.

"J.J., get us started, please," SSA Hotchner suggests.

Sitting down, you look to the screen that displays the frightful footage of bombs detonating in various locations.

"Yesterday, an 81-year-old woman was severely injured when a bomb exploded in the toilet of a women's restroom," J.J. informs.

"Interesting spot to hide a bomb," Agent Prentiss sneers.

Jennifer flips through the slides and shows another bombsight located in a subway station, "Last year a similar bomb that had been attached to a phone box detonated. No outstanding injuries were reported. However, the bombs' similar makeup alerted detectives to dig into other bombings throughout the years. They have positively identified attacks over the past twelve years as perpetrated by the same bomber."

Spencer adds, "His M.O. is similar to George Peter Metesky, better known as the Mad Bomber. He terrorized New York City over a period of 16 years. He planted bombs in theaters, subway stations, libraries, and offices. They were left in phone booths, storage lockers and restrooms."

"Do you think we are looking at a copycat?" Derek questions.

"If we are, we need to stop him soon," declared David.

"He's escalating-becoming bolder and more vicious," you say, scanning the report.

"Tell Boston we can be there by 9:30," Hotch notifies J.J...

++++

"It seems like he's a textbook paranoid schizophrenic. People suffering from this disorder may think that other people are regulating them or plotting against them. They tend to be reclusive, antisocial, and obsessed Hwith hatred for their presumed enemies," you twist a loose string from your shirt around your finger, unwind it, then repeat the process.

It's a nervous tick you developed over the years that has worn down numerous tops before achieving their intended lifespan. You glance at Agent Hotchner, seeking a sign of approval. His eyes meet yours, and he poignantly nods.

Did I say too much? No. Don’t overthink this. They can probably smell fear.

"In his letters left at the bombsights, he uses words like 'broad' and 'chick' to signify women," Dr. Reid chimes in.

"Do you think the unsub is motivated by hostility towards women? "

"It's possible," he continues, "These speech patterns age him significantly, however. Phrases such as these were mainly used in the 30's, 40's, and 50's."

Agent Hotchner begins to delegate tasks before the jet lands, "Morgan and Reid, I want you to head to the bombsights and see if you can't work out the motive. J.J. and Prentiss talk to the victim's families, determine our victimology. Y/L/N, Rossi, and I will head to the precinct and familiarize ourselves with the lay of the land and see if we can't formulate a geographical profile."

++++

At the precinct, you observe Agent Hotchner's ability to singlehandedly transition an entire police force's obligation to under his jurisdiction.

"Captain Moreno, this is SSA David Rossi and SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N," the Unit Chief introduces you.

The captain tilts his head at you, "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI? How old are you anyway?"

You nail him with a you're-full-of-crap look.

Everyone gets to be young once; your turn is over, old man.

Choosing to take the high road, you say, "I'd like to get my hands on the bombers handwritten notes. There has to be something in those letters that can give us a clue into the who, what, when, and where of this case."

Skeptical of your request, he narrows his eyes and looks to David and Agent Hotchner.

"You hear her," Dave exclaims, "Lead the way!"

Your enigmatic smirk no doubt gives away the great pleasure Dave's gibe brings you.

++++

"Agent Hotchner," you hand him your preliminary geographical profile. With his arms crossed, he intimidatingly peers into your research.

Don't burn a hole in my paperwork; I worked hard on that.

He is impressed by your work, taking in your comprehensive outline of proof that details the unsubs point of origin. For someone so young, your attention to detail puts even his most observant profilers to shame. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"My family is from Chicago. When I was little, I used to read through my grandfather's old newspapers that he collected throughout the 1950's. On the jet, I knew some of the phrasings that Dr. Reid was using sounded familiar, so I cross-referenced it with some of the particular articles I remember from my childhood and found his wording to be exact iterations of the Chicago Crier."

Without taking his eyes off of the paperwork, he commends you, "Impressive use of your prior knowledge. Often, the information drilled into us through education is lackluster compared to that of real-world experience."

You turn to walk back to your makeshift desk when he calls out to you, "And Y/L/N, call me Hotch."

Your shoulders relax from the tension you hadn't even realized you'd been clinging onto, "Alright. Hotch."

++++

You immediately regretted your decision. In pursuit of the unsub, you had wandered off down an abandoned subway tunnel and cornered him.

"Harold Watts, FBI. Gently place the remote detonator on the ground," You shout. Grappling to keep your gun from slipping between your clammy palms, you grip the weapon tighter.

Ordinary people's first days of work are uneventful; they're given a series of mundane tasks at most. Me? Of course, my first day involves being secluded in a subway tunnel facing down a man decked from head to toe in explosives and wires.

"D-don't come any closer. I have my finger on the trigger! I'm not afraid to die, and I will not hesitate to take you up in flames with me," he stammers.

The stampede of footsteps, no doubt from your colleagues and half of the Boston police force, resonate through the echo chamber you're standing in. Watts spooks and loses his balance. You begin shouting for the people behind you to stand down.

"The tracks are live, one wrong step, and we all blow up. I repeat, stand down!"

Turning your attention back to Watts, you attempt to soothe his irrationality. You slowly return your gun to its holster, raising your hands up in surrender. Hotch yells something unintelligible from behind you, but your focus is on the unsub and trying to prevent any more casualties.

"Harold, let's just talk this through for a couple of minutes. My men behind me will leave us alone. It's you and me now. Before this, you never wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to be heard. All of your life you felt like you were forced into the shadows, and you began to fester there in your pain and rage."

He tenses up; you have his attention now.

"Those girls who teased you and ripped your masculinity from you needed to be taught a lesson. But you didn't just stop there; you decided to do all women a favor and demonstrate to them the kind of pain they could cause, hoping to prevent them from making the same mistakes. In fact, you helped me to see what I can do better. I never want to make someone feel the way you did."

"Y-you learned that...f-from me?" Harold quietly sobs.

You nod, "Yes! Yes, Harold. And you can still be heard, but not if you die today. I could be your greatest advocate. If we walk out of here right now, think of how famous you could be. Harold, you will never be stuck in the shadows again."

It is crucial to your survival and your teams that you are brave just long enough to analyze the situation and keep your self-control. Panic won't do anyone any good right now.

Your mouth dries as you await Harold's next move. Suddenly, he hunches over, extending the hand gripping the detonator. Pausing for a moment to be sure he isn't making any drastic moves, you promptly hurry to his side and gently pull it from his clutch.

As the police officers and your colleagues rush to your aid, Harold looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Make me famous," he murmurs with a grin that churns your stomach.

Hotch ushers you away from the unsub, backing you up against the wall of the tunnel, "You actively defied my orders."

Searching every inch of his face for an accurate reading of his emotions, you are unsure of how to respond.

"I'd like to think it won't happen again," his eyes studying you just as intently.

You swallow hard, aware of the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, "You have my word, Agent Hotchner."

"Good," he affirms, eventually freeing his hold on your arm.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and relax your spinning head against the wall.

Opening your eyes, you observe your new team tieing up all loose ends. They're safe. You are safe. Despite this first day not being as mundane as others, you wouldn't have it any other way. This feeling is what you signed up for, and it's already fulfilling you in ways you couldn't fathom before stepping inside the BAU office this morning.

++++

Aboard the jet, you tuck your legs underneath you and open up a book to read.

A cup of steaming hot coffee appears on the table in front of you.

Hotch sits across from you with a similar cup and offers you a subtle smile, "Impressive work out there today. I'm sorry your first day of work couldn't be more eventful."

A joke? I didn't take him as the joking kind.

Rolling your eyes, you put on a disappointed tone, "God...if you guys drag your feet like this every day, I might have to consider a transfer."

In a more serious nature, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess. You were right, you know, no amount of studying or lectures can truly prepare you for what it's like when you're staring into the eyes of a killer. I've learned the negotiation techniques and memorized the textbook 'put the gun down' speech, but all of that flies out the window when you're in the moment."

"You will find that improvisation at times is the key to success in this job. Just know that this team is a family. You will never face this alone or be at a loss for anything. Your career is in its infancy, but I can tell you have a long and triumphant journey ahead of you. We will do whatever we can to ensure that you are at home here and can use this team as an opportunity to refine your abilities. All I ask in return is that you work with us, not against us. You have nothing to prove. They see your resourcefulness. So do I. You are one of us now."

Some gazes are the promise of protection; his is all that and more. The words "at home" resonate in your mind. You've spent your whole life searching for a home, and here it is, its doors being opened to you. After a lifetime of running from place to place, perhaps this is where you can finally settle down.

"Get some rest," Hotch whispers to you. And with that, you lean your head against the chilled window and shut your eyes.

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

a.n: thank you guys so much for waiting, I know it must have frustrating but I don't regret taking time off. FYI i ended up skipping some scenes like Hopper's talk with Mike and Joyce going home cause I just kept getting stuck

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Dustin is the first to reach the top of the hill, his sister, the last. And when she does, she hastily unhooks the bag from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before she does.

"We made it!" Dustin happily declares, choosing to ignore the bitter attitude of his cranky and overheated friends.

"Yeah, only took five hours." Max sighs, dumping her weight on the grass beside Y/n who buried her heated face in the cool grass.

"Quick," Y/n groaned, rolling herself over onto her back. "someone... water. I'm gonna be a raisin soon... please,"

Lucas's face lit up at the mention and instinctively he dropped the bag off of his shoulder and retrieved their shared canteen of water. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed and a frail smile strung across her face when she saw this. Lazily, she reached for it, expecting Lucas to hand her the refreshments she had asked for.

But a frown quickly flew across her face when she heard the flat splashing of water on grass and the obnoxious sound of guzzling. Hesitating against the downpour of golden sunlight into her eyesight, she allowed her eyelids to unscrew just enough to see Lucas downing the rest of the group's water.

Her lips drew back into a snarl, ready to chastise the boy, but her friend had beat her to the punch.

"Did you seriously just drink the rest of our water?" Max deadpans, her icy glare piercing Lucas.

"Nope," Answered Y/n from her spot on the grass, eyes peeling open again to scowl at Lucas. "I know for a fact he wouldn't do that, Max, cause that would mean I'd have to kick his ass."

Lucas cautiously met her eye, his puffed-out cheeks filled with water slowly drained themselves back into the canteen leaving behind a sheepish smile. He held out the container for Max, then Y/n as a peace offering. All he was met with were tired glowers.

"That's it. Your ass is grass, Sinclair," Y/n seethed, no real threat behind her words. Or her actions, as she showed no signs of moving other than the depleting motion of her tired heaving from her spot on the grass and a lazy pointed finger hanging in the air in his direction. It fell back to the ground. "You know, after I get up. The moment I do, it's over for you,"

Despite the creeping smirk, Max rolled her eyes at the duo as she grabbed for the duffle bag she had previously been carrying.

"Is it just me," she addresses the group as she unpacks, her mischievous smirk blossoming on her pink cheeks. "or has Y/n gotten meaner?"

Everyone shares a hum of laughter that floats amongst them, including Y/n who smiles to herself pleased, her eyes once again closed.

Unknowingly, Dustin does the same as he unpacks his duffle. A fleeting sense of deja vu passes over him.

"Yeah, it's my probably my fault," he says, beginning to put the first pieces of the Cerebro together. "all that time we spend with 'that douchebag' Steve Harrington,"

"Hey," pipes Y/n shortly. Thinking of the running joke that had started up earlier in the year thanks to Robin, her voice falls into a mocking tone. "don't talk about mom like that, Dustin."

Dustin gives her a funny look before ultimately rolling his eyes as she laughs quietly to herself. The sight drew a smile on Will's face and he briefly paused his unpacking to smile at her, then shook his head returning to work.

"Weirdo," Dustin mumbles. "Alright, sunbathing time is over. Come on. Get up and help us!"

It's Y/n's turn to roll her eyes and she does so with another impressive groan, though she does comply. She rolls herself over and sits herself up so she is sitting on her folded legs, and gets to work on the bag she had previously discarded.

What members of the party remain pull together underneath the setting sun and got to work. Under Dustin's word, the team was able to make quick work of the scraps they had lugged with them.

Lucas, Max, and Dustin took up the work of assembling the base of the radio antenna as Will and Y/n got to work dismantling several bare umbrellas for the makeshift directors. Dustin, who had been so engrossed in his work, had gotten to his third strip of tinfoil only to realize the roll was running thin and that Y/n had been sneaking strips to make various types of hats; one shaped like a baseball cap resting on her head, the second on Will's was shaped like a wizards cap to match Will the Wise, and a third, half-finished cowboy hat sat tucked away behind her back on the grass when Dustin's suspicions grew.

Dustin had learned better with the duct tape; keeping it on his person and only distributing it to those who asked. And he had been so caught up in it guarding the duck tape to avoid another incident he failed to stop the first.

After finishing her section of Cerebro, Y/n had gotten to work on her "side project", this one in the shape of a bucket hat for Max. Dustin tried to scold her again, but she knew they were just about one strip of duct tape away from finishing.

After some conniving on Max and Y/n's part—out of an act of spite, Max defiantly accepted the cap with honor as Y/n placed it on her head, both of them glaring at Dustin—the party came together to hoist the now finished Cerebro into the summer air.

"Pretty impressive, right?" Dustin declares as they all gaze up at their finished work.

Several of them nod.

"Now," he says, all but throwing himself on the grass beside the receiver. "ready to meet my love?"

Dustin is met with scattered agreement.

"Yeah,"

"Sure,"

"Go ahead,"

Y/n, however gladly takes a seat across from her brother, stretching herself out in the grass as she finally enjoys the absence of work in the sun. "Dustin, as your sister, I can honestly say that I have been waiting for this moment all my life. Fair warning though, I will be talking her ear off."

A hopeful grin touches Dustin, slowing blooming on his face. And despite her next words, he finds himself laughing a little.

"But I'm afraid I can't promise I won't be telling her anything and everything embarrassing about you."

His face falls flat, a hint of playfulness still lingering. And as he does so, Will gives into Y/n's lead and takes a seat beside her in the grass. Dustin only narrows his eyes at the pair.

"Telling you really was a mistake, wasn't it?"

Y/n breaks out in a devilish grin and she is unable to stop the quiet cackle that tumbles out of her, yet still it turns Will's insides to jelly. He, like his friends, had been watching the siblings' exchange with great amusement.

"Yes," she agrees, eagerly. "yes it was."

Dustin rolls his eyes before bringing the device up to his mouth, his fingers already on the speaker button.

"Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

A silence falls over the group as they wait, the only sounds to fill it are the crackling of the Cerebro's interference and the sweet sounds of nature that put even Max at ease. But no response comes.

Dustin shrugs it off, scratching his nose nervously as he mutters softly up to his waiting friends.

"One sec. She's probably... She's still there," he smiles, turning back to the speaker in his hand. "Suzie... This is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

The others begin to shift uncomfortably where they stand; the awkward tension growing heavy in the air and they share uneasy glances outside of Dustin's field of vision.

"I'm sure she's there," says Dustin, his voice so soft and quiet it was nearly carried away by the breeze. "You know, maybe, she's just like, busy or--"

"Yeah," Lucas quickly agrees, avoiding eye contact and adjusting his cowboy hat.

"You know, it's around dinner time."

Everyone is quick to mumble an agreement, and Y/n, desperate for something to keep her busy and her mind off of whatever was happening mindlessly pulled a pack of gum from her pockets. Her eyes were fixed on a random spot in the grass as she unwrapped a bit of f/f gum and slipped into her mouth. Before putting the packet back, she just as mindlessly pulls another slip and offers one to Max who gladly accepts.

"Suzie," Dustin tries again. "this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

Will watched Dustin continue his efforts to contact his girlfriend and couldn't help but note the bit of sadness growing in his chest at the sight. Dustin seemed so hopeful, and to see—

The spiraling thought was interrupted when he felt something move his hair; he smiled when he realized Y/n was readjusting the tinfoil wizard's cap on his head that had been slipping. He breathed a quiet laugh, watching her lips twitch up in a smile as she readjusts a few strands of hair she had messed up

"Suzie, do you copy? This is Dustin. Over."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"...do you copy? Over."

The summer moonlight spilled out onto the hill still occupied by five of seven party members; Max and Lucas, who lie on their backs side by side as they stargaze together while Dustin was still at Cerebro. Will—like his friends—wanted to make most of the scenery and found himself sprawled on his back in the grass. The back of his head was resting on Y/n's leg as she mindlessly played with his hair, her stare a million miles away. His eyes began to flutter closed having grown content by her warm and soothing touch.

"Suzie! This is Dustin, do you copy? Over."

The breeze picked up in a pleasant wave, making the trees sing around them. And it was gentle enough to pull Y/n from her thoughts, and back on her brother.

"Suzie, this is your Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

It dawned on her just how hard it was to see him in the darkness, and it hit her just how long they had been there. As her fingers continued to fiddle with Will's bangs, her downcast eyes landed on his face; the sight of him in a state of such relaxation put a smile on her face and a warm feeling in her chest.

He had been through so much for so long and was given so little time to readjust. This was one of the many reasons she enjoyed planning campaigns with him; he was always in his element, supercharged and bursting with ideas. That is when he could manage not to lose concentration whenever a love song came on the radio that didn't make him all dopey and lovesick.

At the thought, Y/n felt a heat creep all over her skin as it always did whenever she thought about Will—but she knew it had nothing to do with her powers. It was just Will. And his innate ability to lift her spirits higher than the skyline while simultaneously bringing her back down to earth; A superpower all his own.

Just as it had happened only just the other night with Will, the lovesick gaze holding her hostage was broken when the other took notice.

"What?" Will whispered up to her in a funny smile.

The softness in his voice pulled Y/n back down and into reality where she was faced with the embarrassing truth of being caught. She shook her head with a simper, a mischievous idea blooming in her mind as one hand crept out of sight and curled around the discarded tinfoil hat he placed in the grass.

"Nothing," she whispered, shrugging. Y/n scrunched her nose as she put on a silly look of fake disgust. "Just getting tired of this ugly mug is all,"

She placed the tinfoil hat over his face where it wobbled, threatening to fall. Y/n smiled again, breathing a laugh through her nose as he laid there still. Oh, so easily she could imagine the unimpressed look now plastered on his face.

"Funny," came his muffled, echoed response.

"Right?"

"Suzie, this is—"

"Dustin!" Cried Max suddenly. Her frustration had been growing with every call and it was a wonder she hadn't broken yet. "Come on! She isn't there."

"She's there, alright?" Dustin argued. "She'll pick up,"

Will craned his head up to look at the disturbance and in doing so sent the tinfoil dunce cap tumbling off his face and back into the grass.

"Maybe Cerebro isn't working?" Will offered.

"Or maybe Suzie doesn't exist," wondered a greatly agitated Lucas.

"She exists!" Dustin defended, the pitch of his voice rising as he got more defensive.

"She's a genius AND she's hotter than Phoebe Cates?" Lucas countered. "No girl is that perfect."

Max shot up from her spot in the grass and cast down a look at her boyfriend.

"Is that so?"

Lucas is quick to back peddle and throws himself into a sitting position with a growing look of concern.

"I mean," Lucas stammers. "you're perfect. I mean, you-you're per—I mean like you're perfect in your special way—you're own special way."

Max finally releases the laugh she had been holding in and shakes her head. "Relax, I was teasing. I'm obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying."

"Max," Y/n sighs. Her eyes flickering sympathetically to her brother who is downcast.

But Max doesn't think much of it and climbs to her feet. She throws her hand out for Lucas to take and pulls him to his feet. "Come on, Don Juan."

Together they start down the hill, prompting the final couple remaining to follow as they pick up the pieces left behind.

"Where are you going?" Dustin calls out to Max and Lucas.

The redhead barely throws a look over her shoulders as they retreat. "Home,"

Y/n watches with great disappointment as they retreat down the hill. She finally broke away when Will offered his hand from where he was standing.

"Well, guess it's just us," says Dustin longingly, not yet realizing they too were heading out.

"Um," he checks his watch, wincing at the timing. Like his girlfriend, he sends Dustin an apologetic look. "it's late. I'm sorry."

Dustin doesn't bother to hide his disappointment, but Will perks up with a hopeful smile. "But maybe tomorrow we can play D&D?" He flashes a smile to Y/n. "We've been working on a campaign lately. We've been dying to show you, we think you'd like it."

Y/n nods eagerly. "Yeah, and maybe you can tell us more about Suzie?"

"Yeah," Her brother nods, sad eyes still locked on the grass and limply his shoulders rise in a shrug. "sure."

Will tries again, giving his friend an earnest smile. "Welcome home,"

Dustin nods again and Will begins down the hill. He looks back when Y/n's hand slips out of his own to see her lingering. "I'll catch up in a minute,"

Will nods and starts after his friends leaving the Henderson siblings alone. Dustin is the first to break the ice, his voice sullen.

"She is real, you know," he mumbles, head nearly sagging all the way to the grass.

"I believe you, Dustin," says Y/n. She gestures to Will's retreating form with a gentle smile. "We both do."

His mood doesn't lift but Dustin's gaze does curiously. He's surprised to find nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about today. I really am. We were really looking forward to it," pessimism flashes across her face. "well, I know Will and I were."

"Is that why you guys are leaving?" He can't help but ask bitterly, making Y/n frown.

"You know it's not like that," subconsciously she starts fiddling with her watch to take away from the worry that had been growing all day. Her gaze stays on Will and the longer it does the more obvious it is she's scared. "It really is getting late and... Well, honestly I think something's bothering him. Like there's something he's not telling me. I don't know, it could be nothing but I'd feel better if I saw him home."

"I guess I can't blame you for being careful with him. I just— I guess I pictured today going a lot differently."

Y/n nods. "I did too."

A small silence falls between them. It's filled with nothing but unsaid words and the melodic choir of crickets singing to the night sky.

"For what it's worth, I know I've been teasing you pretty bad but... I am really excited to meet Suzie. I'm sure she's great,"

"Thanks," For the first time since before the sun had set, Dustin's lips hook upward in a threat to smile. "She is..."

"Get home safe, Romeo," Y/n quips. When he sends her a soft 'you too' she decides it's gotten too chummy and impulsively she yanks his hat over his eyes, chuckling at the look on his face.

Dustin chuckles under his breath and eagerly fixes his hat just in time to watch Y/n scurry down the hill to catch up with Will.

"You too," he mumbles more to himself than anything.

He watches as Y/n casts one apologetic look over her shoulder and that's that. He now stands alone on the hill next to the homemade radio tower, watching sadly as everyone leaves. It's nearly enough to break the dam of tears he can feel collecting in his eyes but he perseveres.

And nearly jumps out of his skin when the transceiver comes to life. It angrily spits out static and Dustin throws himself to the ground, making a grab for the speaker.

"Suzie? Suzie is that you?"

A voice can be heard here and there; not the voice of his beloved Suzie but much deeper, and unmistakably Russain. He snaps himself out of his daze and makes quick work of doing his best to clear the interference. His assessment was right; the voice was Russian, and it calmly spoke a string of words he wished desperately to understand. And yet, no matter how confusing, he can't help but feel his skin crawl with excitement when he realizes...

Cerebro had just intercepted a top-secret Russian transmission. Arguably the most vital piece in the puzzle of what would come to be known as the most important summer of their young lives.

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saksukei · 3 years

Text

prince joshua au

masterlist

you loved your job more than anything,, serving the king and his family as a knight, was an honor that wasn't bestowed upon many so you considered yourself lucky

the king was looking for a husband for his wonderful daughter,, and she had rejected so many princes

the king had then called on to some palm readers and soothsayers that had said that the ‘prince’ destined to be his daughter's husband is currently trapped in a tower

the king did more research and came in contact with a small country, who's king and queen had died and their own child, the prince, was locked in a tower guarded by a dragon

the king then appointed you to find the tower, rescue the prince who would marry the princess as a sign of gratitude and they could rule the smaller country together

you agreed obviously

you were cheered on by everyone as you embarked on the journey, alone, with nothing but your horse to listen to your mindless chatter

and honestly, everything was going well like the trip wasn't too tough it was just really long

when you finally reached the castle, instead of causing a scene and all to you know ‘slay the dragon’ you simply found a back way to get up to the tower

you opened the door and then you heard someone singing, “prince joshua?” you called out and the singing stopped

then you came across one of the most handsome men you had ever seen,,, he had black hair, the face of a Greek god with well toned arms and hE LOOKED MORE LIKE A KNIGHT THAN YOU DID??

“are you here to rescue me?” he asked, nonchalantly, as he flipped open a book.

“yes!” you answered, in an unusually chirpy tone.

“cool– get out of here right now because I'm not going anywhere,” he told you quite bluntly

and you were like ??? this mf I crossed half the fuckin land but this ungrateful bitch eye

“i'm sorry,,, but don't you think that I would be rather capable of escaping this shit hole if wanted too?” he hissed. “but I don't– because I don't want to escape and I don't need anyone's help either.”

“prince joshua, I understand what you mean,,, but the princess is waiting to marry you!” you replied.

“oh great– another stuck up princess who wants to marry me.”

“actually,, our princess is great. she's an absolute sweetheart and she's one of the finest bachelorettes in the country,” you explained.

“then why has she rejected,,, fifty other princes and wants to go after the one trapped in a tower?” he deadpanned.

“because–the palm reader said so,,, but this isn't important–”

“i don't need your princess– so just go away,” he told you.

after thinking for several minutes, you came up with a solution

“look how about this? you come back with me, meet the princess and if you like her you can marry her, if you don't, well– I'll help you escape back to this tower,” you suggested, finally catching his attention.

“how do I know you'll keep your word?” joshua asked, setting his book down.

“i am a knight, sir, loyalty is one of the few idiosyncrasies we can offer.”

“alright then,, I trust you– you better not let me down,,” joshua spoke as he grabbed a backpack with all of his belongings.

you used the same way to avoid the dragon and started on with your journey

at first,,, you truly thought joshua was some stuck-up prince but the more you spent time with him,, the more you realized that joshua was literally a gentleman who would be the perfect ruler of the country

he acted like an asshole before because he was sick and tired of people trying to rescue him and take all the glory

you understood his anger and ever since then joshua had been so sweet,,,

joshua wouldn't let you carry his bag, he'd make sure you were getting enough rest during the journey and one day he even offered to keep an eye out so that you could sleep

you on the other hand, taught joshua on how to light a fire etc and even some basic etiquettes,, cause I mean even if he was a prince he was trapped in a tower for so long

one time, you guys had stopped to stay by the river for the night and soon it was early morning and you woke up and saw joshua wasn't near you??

sO YOU PANICKED BEC OBVIOUSLY DID HE JUST RUN OFF BECAUSE IF HE DID THAT MF WAS IN FOR A RIDE

and you immediately ran around the place only to find him in the river,, waist deep into the water, except– he was half naked??

and boi where you shocked

cause joshua was so damn gorgeous

his perfectly chiseled jawline with that broad chest of his, his adam's apple poking out, his abs, his arms, his wet hair jUST HIM???

FUCKING MALFUNCTIONING

AND YOU WERE SO RED SO YOU JUST RAN BACK TO STOP YOUR HEART FROM RACING AND PRAYED THAT JOSHUA DIDNT SEE YOU BECAUSE JSJXJSISJSKSK HES SO HOT

you were lucky, because he didn't bring it up so you assumed he never noticed you standing there and gawking at him lmao

but all in all, you had fun with joshua he always managed to make you laugh but you could always have those late night talks with him

like when he asked you why you became a knight ,,,,,

“well, as a kid, when the knights would come back from winning the battle and the streets would be lined up with roses and people cheering from them, I knew at that point that, that was who I wanted to be.”

and he was like wow you're so cool omfg

also joshua gets impressed every time you hold your sword

HIS EYES LITERALLY LIGHT UP

he says he wants to learn how to use a sword too because he's a prince but he's really scared

you: josh hold my sword, it's literally not gonna do anything just hoLD IT

josh: wHAT IF IT FALLS ON MY FOOT AND SLICES IT OFF

and you were like I think staying in the tower for too long has lowered your IQ level

but you also told Josh that if he didn't like holding a sword, then he doesn't have to, because you were there to protect him with your life

and you didn't realize but Joshua was looking at you with HEART EYES

soon enough, reached the palace and you were kinda upset that you know joshua had to go and well,,, get married and part of you really wished it wouldn't work out

because you had bonded with him so well you just ,,,,, started liking him and it broke your heart knowing you couldn't have him

besides, he didn't reciprocate anything either so it'd be useless to even imagine

but when you told the king and queen and they met joshua

they were like ??? you didn't get the message??

and you were like what message??

“the princess already found someone she liked and she's getting married in like a month–?”

and you were pissed more than you were happy

not because all this effort was for nothing but the fact that poor joshua,,, he might have been looking forward to this

so you talked to the king and queen and they said that joshua should go back to his country now

you left the room and started crying because you felt as if it was all your fault

“hey, are you okay?” you heard a voice behind you say,,,,, it was joshua

you wiped your tears, “y-yeah I'm good,” you managed to choke out.

and before you could leave, joshua wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, where you broke down and told him everything

you especially kept on apologizing to him and said that you'd make everything right and even find him a princess if you have too

“its okay if the princess doesn't want to marry me,,,, cause I found my princess right here,” he cooed and you chuckled because he was so cheesy,, typical Joshua

“but still josh, I'll take you back to the tower and all,” you told him

“nope, no need too– I need to go back to my country and look after my people as well, I've done enough damage as it is.”

“right”

“are you going to come with me if I go?” he asked, hoping you'd say yes

“I'm a knight, i can't leave the country....” you answered.

and then Josh was like okay hollup I'll talk to the king and the queen

and boi went into the room where the king and queen were while you waited outside and they called you inside eventually

and the king and queen were like,, “we would like you to resign,,, so you can marry joshua and go rule his country.”

and you were like ??????HOW DID HE SWEET TALK THEM INTO THIS EYE

the king and queen said they'd like to give you an official good bye if you could stay for another two to three days and you and Josh agreed

Josh had to stay in one of the palace rooms

and it was 7am you were going to talk to joshua about something very important and you knocked and opened his room door

anD HE WAS STANDING WITHOUT A SHIRT

“o-oh my god,,,, IM SO SORRY!” you yelled, as you covered your eyes and bowed profusely

and Joshua chuckled, as he walked towards you, removing your hands from your eyes, eventually pining you against the door,,,

“darling– don't like act like this is the first time you've seen me naked,,,,, we both know you've been quite scandalous.”

#seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen oneshot #seventeen hong jisoo #seventeen joshua #joshua #joshua seventeen #hong jisoo imagines #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong x reader #seventeen fluff

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bia-wayne-west · 4 years

Text

Stolen kiss – Wally West

Synopsis: You are Wally's tutor of English literature, because you were in need of money to buy a dress. Iris would buy the dress if you helped Wally get a B+ in school. Wally realizes he has a crush on you and decides to steal a kiss from you

Characters: Wally West, Barry Allen, Íris West and Reader [Touch]

Warnings: None.

A / N: Sorry for the mistakes in English, I wrote this in a few minutes and I didn't have time to correct the words. I'm a Latin girl and I'm still learning English. Sorry.

I'm watching YJ and I'm completely in love with Wally's cuteness and how he becomes an idiot around girls. Lol. I hope you like my fic.

Requests are open

Masterlist

[I imagine Wally is like that. Ginger, beautiful and cute.]

Wally West was never good at English literature. He always got C- or D, and that wasn't pleasing Batman or Aunt Iris. Batman decided that all members of Youth Justice should do well at school and get at least one B- at school to stay at YJ.

Your mother is best friend of Iris West and she commented to Iris about how you got A + in every class. Iris offered you $ 400 to teach her nephew and you agreed, since you needed $ 400 to buy a dress for your sister's wedding.

You went to Iris' house and Barry opened the door, a handsome blond man who was trying to be funny. You struggled to laugh after he told the third boring joke.

Iris called you to introduce Wally. You smiled when you saw the red-haired boy with pink cheeks and freckles on his face. He seemed to be cute and funny. Wally stammered when greeting you and you smiled at the scene. Wally wondered if you could hear his heart beat as fast as he could run.

— Wally, this is Y / N. She's my friend's daughter and will be your tutor. — Iris said, with a beautiful smile. She was so beautiful with red hair and bright eyes. Barry, her husband was a very lucky man.

— Hi, Wally. - You said, placing your backpack on the kitchen chair. You approached the boy and held out the hand that was taken by Wally's hand. He squeezed your hand slightly and you could have sworn he vibrated with the contact. — In the coming weeks, I will make you love English Literature.

— Ahh... — He said, trying to find words. — I'm good in other classes but I don't see anything interesting in English Literature.

— When we study Shakespeare, you will be confused at first but then you will love every word and poetry. - You said, trying to sound sweet and sincere.

— Y / N, do you want to have a drink or do you want to go to Wally's room to study? — Barry asked, entering the kitchen holding a shopping bag.

— Thank you, Mr. Allen, but I already had lunch. If Wally wants, we can start now. — You questioned Wally, who was looking at you as if you were a goddess and did not hear what you said. — Wally?

— What? — He asked, looking scared to you.

— Do you want to drink something or do you want to go to your room to study?

— To my room? — He said, it seemed that you spoke Greek. You giggled, grabbing your backpack from the chair and walking over to the redhead.

You put your hand on Wally's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. He was even more ashamed.

— Can you show me where your room is? My backpack is heavy and I have to be home before 7 pm.

— Of course. My room is upstairs. — He said, finally leaving the kitchen and heading towards the house stairs.

You followed the redhead, with your backpack on your back. Iris's house was large and there were several rooms. You followed Wally into a room with the blue door, that was full of band stickers and a big “DO NOT ENTER”.

The inside of the room was gray and had a double bed with a Simpsons sheet. A bookcase was full of comic books and teen books.

A black desk had an expensive computer and a gaming chair. You thought he spends the day playing video games. He turned on his bedroom television on a cartoon channel.

— Wally, I came to teach you English Literature and not to watch cartoons. — Your voice was in a high tone, showing that you were angry. Your body sat on the redhead's bed and started taking some books out of his bag. Wally also sat on the bed and you started teaching him some things about poetry.

(...)

It had been three weeks since you went to Wally's house every day to be his tutor. He was very hardworking and always looked at you with bright eyes. You were lying on Wally's bed while he read a poem he wrote about his favorite video game. As soon as he finished quoting the poem, you applauded him. He was learning fast.

— It's great, Wally. You'll get an A. — You celebrated, getting up from the bed and giving the redhead a hug. He stood and did not return the hug. He was always blushed next to you.

Did you ever hear Barry make a joke when Wally blushed when you said the boy was cute. You were so embarrassed by Barry's comment that you stopped looking at Wally's uncle.

It was only a week before Wally's grades arrived and you stopped being Wally's tutor. He looked sad that you wouldn't be going to his house anymore.

— Wally, I can come here to spend time with you, if you want. Can we be friends. — You said, still hugging the boy.

— I don't want to be your friend.

— Did I do something you didn't like? It's okay if you don't like me. If you get an A in English Literature I will be very happy.

Wally looked you in the eye for a few seconds. Your mouth opened to say something but you were stopped. Wally's lips beat against your lips. The redhead's hands went so quickly to your waist that you wondered if it was human speed.

You looked scared at the boy when he stopped kissing you. His cheeks were as red as his red hair. You let out a breath before you speak again

— Wally, what did you do?

— I like you, Y / N. You are so beautiful and cool, when you smiled at me, I felt my legs shake and it was like in the movies when a beautiful girl walks into the room. — He said, with his hands shaking in an odd way, they seemed to be vibrating. He was smiling like a fool and his lips had a bit of your MAC gloss.

— I don't know what to say, Wally. You are so cute and kind, I thought you were just being nice to me.

— Y / N, you are so amazing that all the guys in the world wanted to go on a date with you. - He said, still with the stupid smile on his face.

— And do you want to be the guy who is going on a date with me? I heard that an ice cream shop opened near my house, I think it would be a good idea to have an ice cream in the afternoon. — You said, running a hand through your hair while looking at the floor in Wally's room.

— Of course, it will be an honor to eat ice cream with you. — The red-haired boy said, taking your hand.

— I will let Iris know that you are taking me home. I bet your Uncle Barry is going to make a joke about it. — You said, ashamed. You picked up your bag and collected the books with Wally's help.

You went down the stairs, listening to Iris talking to Barry about putting a sprinter in the garden. When she saw you and the boy coming down the stairs, she smiled.

— Have you finished studying? Wally's teacher said he was doing great. Thank you, Y/N.

- Wally worked hard to learn. He will get a good grade. - You said, adjusting the bag strap on the shoulder.

— I will take Y / N home. - Wally said. Did you hear Barry hold a smile.

— It's a great idea, Wally. It is dangerous for a pretty girl to walk alone after 5 pm. — Iris spoke, while mixing a cake batter. — If you want to wait, I'll make a delicious banana cake.

— Sure, Mrs. Allen. All the cakes you make are incredible.

— Thanks for the compliment, dear. — Iris asked you to butter a cake pan so that she could bake the cake batter. — You are such a sweet and kind girl. I'd love I would love it if you and Wally were together.

You blushed and looked at the floor. Barry laughed and squeezed Wally's shoulder.

You helped Iris make the icing on the cake and make coffee. After you had a piece of cake and watched Wally and Barry eat 6 pieces each, you decided it was time to go home.

After you said goodbye to Iris and Barry, Wally walked beside you to your home. He looked nervous and he had a beautiful smile that made your stomach full of butterflies.

At some point along the way, you decided to hold Wally's hand. The red-haired boy was shaking and sweating. He was so cute.

As soon as you got home, you smiled at the boy.

— Thank you for accompanying me home. — You said, still holding Wally's hand. The boy looked at you intently and seemed to want to tell you something. Before he said anything, you leaned over and placed a small kiss on the redhead's soft lips.

Wally returned the kiss quickly. His hands went to his waist and his hands went to the boy's red hair. The kiss was so good.

As soon as his lips came off, he stroked your hair and gave you a bright smile. You gave the redhead a hug before walking to your front door.

— Come pick me up at 7:30 pm to have the ice cream.

Wally waited for you go into your house to do a victory dance. He checked that no one was looking and used his speedster speed to get home.

That was the beginning of your love story with Wally West.

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nowplayingblog-main · 5 years

Text

Guns Don’t Kill People

read on AO3

Written for @irondadbingo

Tony woke up to a bright light in his eyes, surrounded by darkness. He had heard about the light at the end of the tunnel just before you died, but he somehow felt that if he was dead, or even dying, that he shouldn't be in this much pain. Even if the last thing he remembered was his own missile blowing up in his face.

He turned his head, and the room he was in came into focus. Or maybe “room” was too kind of a term. The walls were rough, uneven, wet rock, and the furniture that made up the area was thrown together, rickety and dirty. In the center of the room was a steel beam that Tony hoped to God wasn't holding up the place. At the other end of the room there was a sketchy looking bunk bed, with a boy - maybe in his then years - laying lopsidedly on the top bunk, staring lazily at the ceiling, as though he we're on drugs.

Turning his attention away from the room, Tony felt around his face, feeling a tube coming out from his right nostril. In a moment that was probably not his best moment of judgment, Tony pulled on the tube, which caused a burning sensation in his nose, and triggered his gag reflex as the tube brushed past the back of his throat. He stopped, but that felt even worse. Tony continued to pull out what he now realized was a feeding tube until it was completely out - gagging the entire time.

He threw the offensive tube across the room, and sat up in his cot, trying to move away to walk around the room, get a better sense of his surroundings, but he was stopped by a tugging sensation in his chest, which sparked extreme, crippling pain that Tony hadn't been fully aware of. Tony looked down at the stained bandages underneath his shirt. From underneath those bandages there were cables that led to a car battery at the side of the cot he was once lying on. He wrapped his hand around the cords, ready to tug.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The boy on the bunk said tiredly, as though he were half asleep. Tony looked up and saw that the boy was staring at him, his pupils dilated. He looked as though he wasn't truly there.

He turned his attention back to his bandaged chest. The pain underneath them had become unbearable. He tore away the bandages to reveal a monstrosity - a hunk of metal in his chest, surrounded by red, irritated skin.

Tony fainted.

The next time Tony woke up, the kid was cooking something over a fire, which was shabbily built near the center of the room. The kid seemed less delirious than he had been earlier, but there were moments when his hands paused, or he would catch himself leaning too far to one side.

He sat up, and the tugging at his chest reminded of the presence of the metallic monstrosity in his chest.

Tony looked up at the kid. “What did you do to me?”

The kid met his eyes, and Tony could see his pupils were still slightly smaller than normal, especially for someone sitting in a dark, cave like room.

“I didn't do anything to you,” he had an American accent, which surprised Tony, and his words were slurred. “I'm not a doctor. But I did give them the idea. It's an electromagnet. You were hit with a lot of shrapnel, and it was going to pierce your heart. They got out as much as they could, and whatever was left in there is being stopped by that magnet.”

“I'm sorry, are you high right now?” Tony asked brashly.

The kid went cross-eyed for a moment, and leaned a little too far to the left, catching himself before he could actually fall over. He looked sheepishly back up at Tony. “It's not my choice.”

Before Tony could ask what he meant by that, there was a pounding at the door, strains of Arabic filtering through.

The kid stumbled to his feet, placing his hands behind his head, “Get up.”

Tony remained seated, eyes trained on the door.

“What are you, crazy? Get up! Do as I do!”

Tony stood up, placing his hands behind his head, mimicking the boy, just as the armed terrorists barged through the door.

There were seven or eight men, each armed with what Tony recognized as Stark Industries issued weapons. Then, another man walked through. Clearly the leader.

He walked up to the kid first, speaking in Arabic. Tony couldn't understand a word he was saying, but he spoke with a praising tone of voice, but in a somewhat condescending tone.

After a while, the man turned to Tony, continuing to speak in Arabic.

“He says welcome, Tony Stark, the greatest mass murderer in the history of America.” The kid translated, which stunned Tony for a moment. “He is honored.”

The terrorist leader cut him off continuing to speak in his foreign tongue.

“He says he wants you to build him a missile - the Jericho missile, which you were demonstrating earlier.”

The man pulled out a black and white printed picture of the Jericho.

“That one,” the kid supplied, somewhat needlessly.

Tony looked up at the man, eyeing the armed men behind him.

“I refuse”

The torture that followed would haunt Tony for the rest of his life.

The next day, Tony was being led outside. It was blindingly bright, but when his eyes focused, he saw several of his weapons, as well as assorted parts and pieces from what Tony guessed were cars and explosives.

The kid was there. He was being restrained my a much larger man, his arms pinned behind his back. He had guns trained at his head at all times. The poor kid seemed to be taking this all in stride, as though he was used to it.

The leader was speaking again, and Tony looked to the kid for a translation, feeling bad about the position they were in.

“He says, what do you think?”

Tony grimaced. “I think he has a lot of my weapons.”

The leader spoke again. The kid translated. “As you can see, they have everything you need to build the Jericho. You will write a list of materials, and get to work right away. When you're done they will set you free.”

Tony glanced around at the armed men around him. Some of them stood on top of the rocky peaks. One of them stood out among the rest, and Tony suspected he was the leader of all of them, even the guy he was talking to right now.

He held his hand out and shook it with his captor.

“No he won't.” Tony said, mostly to the kid.

“No. He won't.” The kid agreed.

That night, Tony was laying on the bottom of the rickety bunk bed. He thanked his lucky stars that the kid appeared to weigh no more than a feather - any heavier may have caused the whole thing to capsize.

The kid was more alert now than Tony had ever seen him. He was sitting upright on the bunk. And Tony could tell by his positioning that he was staring at the door.

“You got a name, kid?”

“Peter,” he said softly, his voice wavering, but it wasn't slurred.

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. “I'd introduce myself, but -”

“I know who you are.”

Tony nodded silently.

“It's scary isn't it?” Peter said. “How many weapons they have. How many parts.”

“Yeah,” Tony said softly, “they weren't supposed to be the ones who had them.”

“Have you ever heard the saying, 'guns don't kill people, people do’?”

“Yeah, what's your point, kid?”

“You make the guns,” Peter explained, “and once they're out there, you can give them to the people you want to have them, you can guard them, but somehow, some way, they're going to end up in the hands of the people you don't want to have them. And the guns don't know any better. They won't just stop working. They just do as they're told.” He took a breath.

“I don't quite understand what you're trying to tell me,” Tony said passively.

“That's okay. Maybe someday you will.”

There was pounding at the door.

“What's going on?” Tony demanded. Standing up and putting his hands behind his head. “They said they wouldn't come until tomorrow.”

“They're not coming for you,” the kid assured him, climbing off the top bunk.

The armed men crowded into the room, and grabbed Peter by his arms, pinning them behind his back, tying them too tightly with thick, dirty rope. Those who weren't busy tying the poor kid up had their guns aimed at his head.

“Woah, woah!” Tony exclaimed, “What's your deal, what are you doing to him?!”

A few of the gunman swiveled toward him when he spoke, turning their guns on him

“It's fine Mr. Stark,” Peter assured him. “They have you here to build weapons. I'm here for the same reason.”

Tony had no idea what that meant, but just as soon as the had entered, the terrorists left the cave, locking the door behind them. Tony was alone.

Tony had managed at get a couple of hours of sleep between his tossing and turning, the pain in his chest, and his worry about a teen-aged stranger keeping him awake.

When the sun had finally started to shine through the small, thin window near the ceiling, the door finally opened again. Tony stood up, placing his hands behind his head like the kid taught him, and once again armed men came into their room, Peter hanging limply from where they held him by his arms. They dumped him onto the ground, and promptly left.

The poor kid was covered with his own blood, which oozed sluggishly from small cuts littering his body. The back of his right hand was bruised, and displayed a puncture wound above his vein. His arms were covered in puncture wounds, really.

His breathing was ragged, and Tony knew that being thrown into his stomach wasn't doing him any favors. He slowly moved toward the kid, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you with me, Peter?” He asked gently.

The kid groaned, the sound trailing off into a whimper.

“I'm gonna move you to the bed, okay? It's probably not a good idea for you to stay on the floor like this.

“M'fine,” Peter insisted, his words slurred so severely it took Tony a money to realize he was speaking.

“No, you really aren't.”

“M'Okay...really...I've...done this....'fore” the kid turned his head weakly to one side, his eyelids only half open.

“C'mon kid,” Tony insisted, hoisting him from underneath his armpits. “Up you go.”

Peter whimpered and whined as Tony staggered over to the bed. It wasn't hard to carry him, the kid was pretty light, but Tony had an awkward hold on him due to his own gaping injury in his chest, and he had to stop every so often to go back and shift his car battery so that he wouldn't get disconnected.

Once the kid was on the bed, Tony could tell he was pretty out of it, not to mention exhausted.

“Why are they doing this to you, kid?” Tony tried to ask, “What do they want from you.”

Peter's reply was too slurred for Tony to discern. He lifted one of the kids eyelids and saw that his pupils were blown.

“They're keeping you on pretty heavy drugs, aren't they?” Tony removed his hand from the boys face, resolving to wait to ask him in the morning.

“From what I can tell they're trying to create some kind of super soldier serum,” Peter told him the next time Tony asked. He was sitting up in the bunk, since Tony wanted him to rest, even though Peter insisted this wasn't the first time this had happened. “They have some kind of notes from way back in the 40s or something -”

“Steve Rogers,” Tony realized. “Captain America.”

“Well, it didn't work at first,” the kid said. “They injected me with something, but it didn't do much - nothing bad, but nothing good either, at least for them. I kept feeling dizzy, and passing out. Then they got these new notes, a whole lot more modern. From what I can tell, they're coming from some company in America. They only started recently.

“They injected me with this new serum. It was crazy. Right after they injected it, it was like my senses we're going haywire. It was so bright, and loud, and everything I felt was so intense and uncomfortable. They thought it was a fluke at first, but when I woke up the next morning it was like everything evened out. It was still intense, but I'd adjusted. And I was stronger. Way stronger. I fought back, and I almost escaped. Now they keep me on the drugs to make sure I don't try anything. I also think my metabolism increased, because they started giving me less food, to keep my strength low.”

Tony listened to the kid as he cooked they're extremely low rations over the open fire. “so they want me to build them weapons, and they want you to become their weapon.”

“Sort of,” Peter shrugged, “I get the feeling I'm just their guinea pig. They're just using me to perfect their formula, before they give it to their more willing soldiers.”

“How did they get ahold of you?”

“I was visiting with my parents on a business trip. They're geneticists, and they were here doing research,” Peter's eyes glazed over, “They shot at the car, broke the windows. My father was killed in the driver's seat, and my mother was shot a moment later. I kept waiting. Waiting to die. When they broke into the car I thought they were going to kill me. But instead they just knocked me out and I woke back up here.”

Peter looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “They had your weapons, Mr. Stark.”

Tony focused on the kids dirty, worn down sneakers, sitting beside the bunk, not willing to meet the kids eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I made the weapons,” Tony insisted.

“It's not like that,” Peter countered.

Tony decided to change the subject. “And what are they gonna do to you when they're done?”

Peter looked him in the eye. “Kill me, I would think.”

Tony met his gaze. “I won't let that happen.”

“Why?” The kid asked. “You hardly know me. Besides, you've got your own life at stake.”

“I don't have to know you,” Tony said. “You're a kid. You have so much more to live for than just this. You deserve a chance to live.”

“Mr. Stark, with all due respect, I don't have any reason to stay alive, my parents are dead. There's nothing left for me. Do you even have a plan to get out of here?”

Tony looked up, eyeballing one of the camera he had noticed we're stationed around the room.

“We'll see.”

Later that day, the cave was crowded with people carrying things inside. Tony was barking orders, Peter standing close by translating as fast as he could.

Soon the workspace was set up to. Tony's liking, well lit and equipped with everything he needed. There once open and large room was suddenly full of Stark Industries weapons and mechanics.

Once everyone had filed out of the cave, Tony began to work, sketching out blueprints for his big project - as well as a smaller one, one he would need to start working on as soon as possible. Glancing over, he caught Peter staring at the Stark Industries logo on one of the missiles. He looked like he wasn't really there.

“Kid,” Tony called, causing Peter to jump, snapping out of his reverie “Come make yourself useful.”

Peter cautiously came over toward him. Tony picked up a long tube - a missile. The kid stopped walking.

“Relax, they took out the explosives before they gave them to me. They're crazy, but not stupid. Now watch.”

Tony very meticulously and carefully broke apart the missile extracting what he needed. Until finally he pulled out a small piece metal with his tweezers.

“Okay, we don't need this,” Tony threw scrap pieces over his shoulder.

“What's that?” The kid asked.

“Palladium,” Tony said. “About .15 grams of it. I need at least 1.6, so why don't you start breaking down the other eleven.”

The kid was actually a very good helper. When he wasn't drugged up to his eyeballs he had remarkably steady hands, and he clearly knew how to break stuff apart the right way.

“I used to do this all the time, back at home,” Peter had explained. “I would get old broken computers from the thrift store, break them down and rewire them. I made some pretty cool stuff, or at least I liked to think so.”

Tony had waited for moment when Peter was more aware to have him heat up the palladium in the crucible and pour it into the sand mold Tony had constructed. Tony couldn't do it himself, since he had to hold onto his car battery.

“Careful,” he warned. “We only got one shot at this.”

“If you stop psyching me out,” the kid countered, “I might be more steady.”

Despite their banter, Peter had successfully poured it into the mold, and the next morning Tony pulled out a freshly made ring of palladium. By that point the poor kid had returned from one of his torture sessions and was the equivalent of a vegetable lying on their bunk.

Tony got to work, installing all the pieces, soldering and wiring, until his finished product whirred to life, glowing a faint blue in front of him.

Peter materialized over his shoulder, and it was at that point Tony noticed how much time had gone by.

“What's that?” The kid spoke in an awed whisper.

“It's a miniature ARC reactor. I've got a bigger one at home, powering my workshop.” Tony explained. “This one will keep the shrapnel out of my heart.”

“What does it generate?”

“If my math is correct - and it always is - about three gigajoules per second. Enough to power my heart for 50 lifetimes.” Tony turned and made eye contact with Peter. “Or something big for 15 minutes.”

The kid looked at him with wary eyes. “What are you planning?”

Tony stood up, leading the kid over to his blueprints, flattening them out to show him his other project - his much bigger project.

“Woah,” the kid breathed.

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed before he was almost completely done with his project. He had about a week of work left to do, when once again there was a pounding on the door.

He and the kid exchanged nervous glances. It wasn't anywhere near time for Peter to be taken away again. They stood, hands behind their heads.

Man flooded the room, all armed with guns - no surprise. What was different this time was that the old leader, the one Tony had grown used to seeing, wasn’t there. Instead, another man took charge, a man Tony remembered from his one trip to the outside world since being imprisoned here.

“Relax,” The man said.

Tony and Peter tentatively let their hands fall to their sides. The man circled them, and began examining Tony’s blueprints. Tony’s heart leapt in fear. He doubted than man would be able to piece together what he was making, but still, it set him on edge.

“The bow and arrow was once the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine,” The man gave up trying to make sense of the blueprints. “Today, whoever has the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. Soon it will be my turn...”

The man turned to Peter, and started having a conversation with him, no longer talking in English, so Tony couldn’t follow along. Suddenly, Peter was forced to his knees, and his head was shoved down onto an anvil. Tony’s heart raced, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to let the kid get hurt, but he knew trying to help him might make things worse. The man picked up a set of Tony’s tongs, using them to remove a hot coal from the fire, and started maneuvering it towards the kids head, still shouting at Peter in a foreign tongue.

“What do you want, a delivery date?” Tony asked stepping forward to try and help the kid against his better judgment. The armed men quickly trained their guns on him, shouting words of warning, on Tony stopped, raising his hands in surrender. He looked around, trying to think of something that might help them. He looked to the man who was still holding the hot coal with his tongs, too close to the kid’s face for comfort.

“I need him,” Tony insisted. “He’s a good assistant.”

The air was still and tense. The room became so silent that Tony could hear Peter trying to take deep, calming breaths. Finally the man dropped the burning coal, signaling to his men to let Peter go.

“You have until tomorrow,” He warned, “to build my missile.”

Then they left.

Thankfully, the kid wasn’t dragged away for experiments again, which let them work more efficiently on the suit throughout the night. What would have taken a week was now being done in one night.

“What did they want?” Tony asked while hammering at the metal chest plate to give it shape.

“They’re onto you,” Peter warned, working on the wires and electrical work. “They kept asking what you were really building. I told them that you were working very hard on the Jericho, but it was very complex.”

“We need to get this done before sunrise,” Tony decided. “Otherwise they’ll come too soon and we won’t have a chance.”

By the time the light behind their small window had begun to turn orange like the morning, Peter was helping Tony into his suit, and they waited for the data from a small, old computer to load so that they could power it up.

“Say it again,” Peter prompted.

“41 steps straight ahead, 16 steps from the door, fork right, 33 steps, turn right,” Tony rattled off.

Peter took a shaky breath and nodded.

“Hey,” Tony said, trying to sound as calm as possible, “It’s gonna be fine.”

Peter nodded again. “Say it again.”

Tony knew it at this point, but he repeated it so that Peter could feel better.

“Almost at 100%,” Peter reported.

“Okay, remember than plan, kid. Stick to the plan. Remember your checkpoints, and make sure everything is clear before you follow me, okay?” Tony looked Peter dead in the eye, and the kid gave him another shaky nod. “It’ll be fine, It’ll -”

There was banging at the door. Peter gave a shaky gasp looking fearfully at the door. There was shouting.

“Say something to them,” Tony prompted.

“They’re speaking Hungarian,” Peter said. “I don’t know how to speak Hungarian.”

“Speak Hungarian,” Tony pressed, “Just say something in Hungarian.”

The kid’s eyes were wide with terror, and he loudly called out a couple of wavering words. It didn’t appear to work however, because the door was opened.

There was a loud ban, and both Peter and Tony felt the wave of the explosion that had been a trap that they had set on the door. It was supposed to be how they got out of here, but it was too soon.

“Okay, times up kid, we gotta go.” Tony moved to disconnect his suit.

“No!” Peter shouted, “You need more time -”

“Kid, we don’t got time, we need to make our move, now!”

“You stay here and wait for it to power up,” Peter said. “I can buy you a couple of minutes.”

Then, the kid ran to one of the bodies of the men who had been at the door, picking up one of their guns, then he ran out the door.

“Kid!” Tony yelled. “Kid! Stick to the plan! Stop!”

After several agonizing minutes of waiting, the loading bar on the computer reached 100%. The lights flickered, before the eventually powered off. Tony disconnected himself from the cables, and maneuvered the suit out of the cave, through the hole where the door had once stood.

Tony found the kid near the mouth of the cave, laying over a pile of sandbags, bleeding and panting. Tony had successfully picked off everyone inside the cave, and seeing that it was safe, he knelt by the kid and raised the helmet.

“Kid, c’mon, we have a plan and we’re gonna stick to it.”

The poor kid moaned in pain, whimpering when Tony rolled him over. He was bleeding profusely from his stomach. Tony could tell he had been shot. Peter let out agonized shot as Tony pulled one of the kid’s hands over the wound.

“Keep pressure on that, okay? I’m gonna deal with those guys out there, then I’m gonna come back, and we’re gonna get out of here okay?”

Peter whimpered. “- hurts, it hurts. Mr. Stark. Please. I don’t wanna die.”

“Shh,” Tony soothed. “You’ll be fine. Just put pressure on that wound and I’ll be back in a few minutes to get you, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

Peter nodded, pressing down on the wound, he yelled from the pain.

“Shh,” Tony soothed. “I’ll be right back, okay kid?”

He closed the mask and made his way outside.

Just as Tony had killed all of his captors, the suit lost power. He shed the heavy metal and took of the protective extra layers he had worn underneath of it so he wouldn’t get dehydrated too quickly.

He raced back to the kid, much more mobile now that he didn’t have the suit on. Remarkably, Peter had managed to sit up, and the wound underneath his hand was somewhat healed.

“The experiments,” Peter explained. “They didn’t drug me last night, so I’m stronger now, and I can heal quicker.”

“Yeah, but it still isn’t good that there’s still a bullet in there,” Tony said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

When Rhodey found them with the air force helicopters while they braved the desert, Tony had never been more relieved.

#fanfiction #iron man #spiderman #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderson #irondadbingo

91 notes · View notes

definealetheia · 5 years

Text

Note to self when I feel like I'm going insane (unfinished)

STOP OVERTHINKING!

Sit back, relax, and take deep breaths.

Listen to chakra tune up meditation music. Unblock your chakras and let the energy flow through your body.

Don't intentionally block your heart chakra. Stop suppressing your feelings, whether it is good or bad. You have to deal with them and heal your wounds. The more you suppress your feelings, the longer your agony will get.

Do you still have doubts about the connection?

Remember that you have already let go of the label Twin Flame. The question whether he is your Divine Masculine or not is not important anymore. The Universe may or may not give you the answer after all. BUT you can honor what you feel is true. You love him. This is your truth. You don't need the Universe to tell you that.

It is okay to doubt the connection sometimes. It is normal to experience doubts and fears in this journey. It is scary and full of uncertainties.

I don't get why other twins refer to someone they meet as "catalyst" who will activate your awakening and you believed as your twin but ended up as otherwise. Same logic goes for false twin. I don't get it. I don't think there is a false twin or a catalyst. That person is either your twin or not. Why would you need a catalyst to activate you? Your twin can do that himself. It doesn't make sense to me. People who started their spiritual journey even before they met their twin were awakened due to several possible reasons. May be because of traumatic experiences or they come from a spiritual background. As for those who were not awakened until they met their twin, I don't understand why the person who activated them ends up only as a catalyst. What for? You will only recognize that person as a catalyst once you meet your true twin. And then it would be like you're restarting your twin flame journey with your true twin! Wth.

Remember the reasons and synchonicities that lead you to believe he is your twin.

He activated my spiritual awakening.

It was August 29, 2018. I met my twin online right after I graduated from grad school. I finished another milestone in my life. I finished a job contact and ready to start a new life. I was optimistic about the future. I've been single for years and thought it would be nice a start a new one. But I didn't want to start a relationship just for the heck of it. I wanted to find the one. I've been saying this to the Universe for a quite some time. I might have manifested it when I met your twin without knowing it.

I've been suffering from MDD and GAD for years. I was in medication and went in and out of hospitals after every suicide attempt. For a long time I was suffering from an existential crisis. I did not know who I am or why I am alive. I did not have dreams of my own and was just living to fulfill the expectations of my family and society. I did not have any goals nor did I have reasons or motivations to pursue anything except meeting others' expectations of me. I needed to finish school and establish a good career, help my parents, and then have my own family. As good as those things were, I did not have the right motivation to do that.

I have always felt I don't belong anywhere. I was bullied in school and even at work. It made my depression even worse. Everywhere I go, terrible things always end up happening. I always felt uncomfortable, unsafe, and being wronged by people. I felt unlucky and miserable all the time. Everytime I try to turn my life around and gain a little hope, terrible things happen and that little hope I had get taken away from me.

I was never religious nor spiritual. Having a master's degree in Philosophy, I have an extensive experience on critical thinking and being skeptical. I don't label myself as agnostic. In fact, when it comes to my spirituality, I refrained from associating myself from any religious group or any spiritual belief. However, during one Philosophy class where we talked about religion where some of my classmates studied in Catholic seminaries, I remember sharing that I don't believe in (Christian conception) God but I do believe that there is someone or something, maybe it be metaphysical, divine, or a force that governs everything in the Universe.

I have always had the affinity to look at the sunset and the night sky. I has been part of my routine. My childhood dream was to became an astronaut or astronomer. But life happened. Part of my routine was talking to the Universe while watching the night sky. Whenever I feel suicidal I always tell them that I don't belong down here. I want to be among the stars. That's where I feel I belong, not here. I talk to the stars as often as I can. They saw me cry and all. They let me know they are listening by showing me shooting stars. I even saw asteroid Juno and other comets during one of my nightly routine. It always feels magical when they show me how beautiful the Universe is.

Recognizing the soul connection

I have been interested in Japanese culture and martial arts. I've been practicing a japanese sword martial arts since January 2017. Since I wanted to learn the language, I installed a language exchange application on my phone and that's where I met him. To be honest, I was open to the thought of possibly meeting someone online but I did not realize that I would actually meet someone like him. I met men who were more interested in flirting with me than learning another language. That's very common online. But I was not interested in them but when I met my twin, I did not know that from then on, my life will turn bat shit crazy. I was just following ramdom people on the app but I also made sure they did not look sketchy or suspicious. He followed me back. He suddenly commented on a picture I posted of me and my cat and then he sent me a private message. My first impression of him is he was very flirty and straithforward with giving compliments, unlike most Japanese I talked to who were polite and unsure of themselves. When I looked at his picture, I immediately felt something different about him especially when I looked at his eyes. But I couldn't put my finger on it. I never felt anything like it before. I felt like I knew him. There was a sense of familiarity and comfortabilitily. We started talking on Line, sent audio messages, and even talked on video call for hours. He send messages when he wakes up, goes to work, while working, coming home, and before sleeping. It like was a honeymoon phase of a relationship. I told myself it was too good to be true.

I needed to know more about him so I asked him if he was single. He wasn't. I felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown at me. He was still flirty and acting like there's more to us than acquaintances. But because of that reality check, I kept asking myself where I stand. Sometimes he treats me like a girlfriend all then all of a sudden he acts like a stranger. When the conversation gets hot and he becomes more flirty than normal that's where I remind him that he has a gf and I don't want to be in a third party. He told me they haven't talked for a while and he felt lost. I felt worse. I felt like he was just bored and wants to use me to fill in the void. Since I knew I was falling inlove, I made it clear to him that if he wants to continue talking to me like we are in a relationship, then I want to be only one. There should be no other woman. He couldn't give me an answer. He always dodged the question to the point that I get frustrated and just drop it. Add the language barrier to the mix. During one of our arguments, I kept asking him how he really felt about me and his answer was that he wanted to meet. I did not expect that answer. Even if I agreed to that, I reminded him that he has gf and he just told me they hadn't talked.

When he came back to Japan from one of work trips, that's when things went downhill. He used to give me updates on where he was or what he doings but that time I did tell me he already came back. His messages became short. Sometimes just one word. It's obvious he didn't want to be bothered or he just didn't want to talk to me. There were even sarcastic messages. It was my cue to leave him be.

We stared with talking to each other all day everyday until it became more and more seldom. There were days when he wouldn't talk. Then a sudden message after days of silence. I did not chase him or beg him to talk to me. But I once told him how I sad was that he changed. I was crying a lot. My heart got broken so many times. October 2018 came and after over a month of the honeymoon phase, he finally ghosted me.

Kundalini awakening and rising

I became more and more depressed and desperate for answers. I kept asking the Universe: Why did this happen? What was the point? I closed myself off for years and stopped dating after experiencing traumatic relationships. Right when I finally decided to take a risk, open my heart, and love again, this happened to me? I did not understand the point of it all. Letting another person in and then he just breaks my heart? This was the last chance I gave myself to love and this shit happened. Before I met him, I told myself that if I ever meet someone and fall in love, it will be the last time. I want to me the one. I am tired of being hurt so many times.

I was so confused. I was hurt, angry, and frustrated. Wanting to find the answers, I started watching tarot readings on Youtube. I never believed in Astrology. I was too skeptical for that. But I watched hundreds of readings out of desperation to find the answers. I got mixed result on the readings. There were times that the readings resonated so much that my mind was blown so many times. But there were others that just made me more confused and paranoid. The best takeaway from those readings is that divine timing is at work. I have to trust in the Universe and give them space to work things out. I can't force things to happen. The only thing I can do is set healthy boundaries and don't let anyone treat me like a doormat.

I spent the next few weeks just watching readings, crying at night, and trying to cope with the pain. The readings said that there will be communication and it did happen. By the time happened, I literally said "this shit is real." I was surprised that he messaged me and asked how I was. But after the inital shock, I was overcome by anger and hurt. He wanted communication just when I was starting to gain balance and not think of him that much. I was torn between telling him off and just accept that he is back. I replied 2-3 days later telling him I'm doing good.

The communication started again but I was seldom. He called me on 11/11 but I couldn't answer. He just randomly sends a message after a few days of silence and or calls all of a sudden and then disappear again. So flakey! I got fed up and set my foot down. I asked him why he wants call or talk to me. He said he always wanted to call and enjoys being with me. I called out his BS. I reminded him that he stopped talking to me. He can't just come in and out of life as he pleases. He should stop playing mind games with me. He just said to me "Oh don't say that 😭." I told him I deserve an explanation and tell me why he disappeared. He said he did not disappear. I told him it hurts me that he's not being honest with me. He said he was being honest. See the pattern here? I asked him again what happened and he just answered "I don't remember." That was it. I told him I'm a very patient person (I'm a fucking Taurus okay) but he pushed me too far. I won't ask anymore. It's obvious he didn't wanna answer. I'm done.

I was livid. I'm done dealing with a player and emotionally unvailable jackass. That's the start of our separation. It was 11/12.

I spent the rest of November dealing with rollercoaster of emotions. One moment I'm angry, and them I'm in pain, and then lonely ect. It was a torture. There were times when I went into relapse. I thought I have officially gone insane. I just wanted to die.

The first time I came across the term twin flame was through watching tarot readings. I never heard of the time before even when I met my twin. I wasn't interested in learning more about it at first. All I know was that it was different from soulmates and it was rare. I have never thought of myself as special (just different) so I did not think I needed to know about it. But curiosity got the better of me and finally decided to do some research. Lo and behold, I resonated with most of the signs that were listed. The things that happened to me made more sense now. But that was not enough to convince me.

More and more meditation music started appearing on my youtube suggestions. It was December when I finally decided to try a guided meditation. It's my first entry. I felt the urge to do it more and more often until I came across a meditation to awaken my spirit. Before this entire journey I would never think of trying it but since I have been activated, might as well continue on improving myself. I played the music when looking at the sunset. When I came to opening the third eye, I started seeing particles in mid air. They look specks of light or little transparent bubbles floating around. As weeks went by I seem them clearer. I don't even have to concentrate or be in meditative state to see them. I see another invisible layer in my environment as well. I see rain or drizzle even if it's not really raining. I also see "rain" and particles even indoors now. As long as there is light. I tune up my chakra almost everyday. I don't feel right when I don't meditate in a few days.

10/13/2019 ~ 2:41 PM (this has been saved in my Drafts since Jan/Feb -- I'm not sure anymore)

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living-after-death-blog1 · 5 years

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The Day My Daughter Died.. (An introduction to the end and the beginning)

I received a phone call from my daughter's best friend, Alli, at about 2:30pm on that day. She told me that she had just left work and was on her way to my daughter's house, after receiving a frantic phone call from my daughter's roommate, Kenneth, who said that he had come home and found her unconscious, with a needle in her hand. He had called an ambulance, he had attempted CPR, and was now waiting outside of the house while the emergency personnel did their thing inside.

I think it was already pretty well established that my daughter was gone, and I think that this was probably communicated to me, but my brain literally wouldn't grasp it. I wasn't devastated; I was terrified. I spent the entire conversation (which was probably at least 20 minutes long) thinking that we didn't know anything yet, feeling like I was frozen, like everything around me was happening in slow motion, and that I was just holding my breath until the moment when Alli could finally get to the house and someone could tell us what was going on. I thought we were waiting to hear that she'd been trànsported or something. It honestly hadn't occurred to me until just now that simply knowing that Kenneth had attempted CPR should have been enough information to answer to the only question that was looping through my mind, over and over, until Alli arrived. "Is she breathing?"

I was 4 hours away, in another city.

Once Alli arrived, there were people everywhere; policemen, emergency responders, tons of neighborhood spectators, and Kenneth, the roommate. I was still on the phone, waiting, while he and Alli had a brief conversation, which I couldn't really hear and I finally interrupted to ask what I thought we'd been waiting to find out this whole time.. "But.. is she still breathing?"

At that point, I heard Alli take a deep breath and, very slowly, and with such pain, she said the words that made it real.

"No, Stephanie. She's gone."

I remember taking a deep breath and saying, "Okay."

It almost felt like, "Well.. Here we are. This is actually happening. You know, that thing that happens to other people, but not your child, not you? It's happening. Right now."

Another deep breath, and once again, " Okay.. "

I remember thinking that I needed to hold it together somehow, because I was going to have to handle and figure out a lot of things, and I really, really needed to be able to think. I just had to think. Figure this all out somehow, as if it were a problem that could be solved.

I did what I've always done when I need to call upon an extreme coping skill. I stopped feeling, and I started thinking. Intellectualizing, my therapist, Becca, the one from my daughter's first treatment center, used to call it.

I called upon that skill in that moment. Think. Think about what other people are going through, feeling, experiencing. Think about how everyone else feels, so you don't have to look at what this really is. Don't even get close to it.

That is the moment that I apologized to Alli for having to be the one to make such a horrible phone call, telling someone's mother that they are dead, and thanked her for being that person, at the same time. I thanked her for being a good friend. I told her I loved her. Said I'd be available for the police or whoever needs to speak to next of kin, and told her to give them my number.

I called my boyfriend first, in a panic; I had to get home, I had to get to Houston, and I had to get there NOW. I couldn't drive, and all I could think was how I needed to get there, I had to get there, and I needed to get there NOW. No answer.

I called my ex-husband (not the father of my daughter, but of two sons, ages 15 and 18, at the time) and, not realizing that the boys were in the car with him or that he had answered on speaker, I started screaming that my daughter was dead, she was dead, and I didn't know what to do. Of course, after finding out that the boys had overhead, I called both of them to apologize that they had had to hear me like that, to hear the news that way.

I don't remember very much of the next few weeks. The things I do remember are choppy, like random scenes from a movie, but I remember those things vividly.

I realized that I had to tell people. Who? Who is the first person you call to announce your daughter's death?

I called my mom first, I think, and I listened to her sob and repeat, "Noooo..." over and over.

I called my daughter's other grandmother, on her father's side, and I listened as she cried and kept saying, "Oh my god.."

I called my daughter's ex-boyfriend, Javi, the father of my granddaughter, who was 8 at the time, and he couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it, either; jumped in his car to go over there. I guess he needed to see it with his own eyes.

I spoke to another of my daughter's best friends, Jessica (she happened to text me, so I thought she already knew, and when I realized that she didn't, I told her to call me. She asked me, "How bad is it?" I said, "Bad."), and then she, too, immediately drove over to the house to meet up with Alli, Kenneth, and Javi.

I couldn't listen to any more breaking hearts at the moment, so as fucked up as it seems now, I just started texting people.

I texted my friend, Sarah, who, along with her entire family, have been like family to us. I don't even know how I said it. I think I said, "I'm so sorry to tell you like this, but they found her this morning, unconscious, with a needle, and she didn't make it. " Sarah immediately called me, and started screaming, " What? What? " as if she couldn't hear me. Her mind, too, couldn't seem to allow this to be real.

I spoke to my friends, Theresa and Joie, sisters, and they immediately offered all kinds of practical help that hadn't even occurred to me, such as setting up a GoFundMe account to pay for funeral expenses. I had been laid off from my job of over ten years several months prior, and so all of the life insurance policies and everything I'd been so used to just having were no longer available, and I had nothing.

Joie also posted on Facebook on my behalf. It was the only way I could think of to let everyone know, especially my daughter's friends, and it was because of all of these people, and so many more, that I have managed to get through this last year.

I don't know what I did to deserve such wonderful people in my life, but I am surrounded by them. The GoFundMe account reached over $5000 within a couple of days.

My daughter's best friend from middle school is a hair and makeup artist, and she flew in from Colorado to make sure that she was the one who did the makeup for the viewing. That was always their thing, and even though my daughter's addiction had driven them apart over the years, Vikki had to do this one last thing for her friend, and I was happy to have her do it.

Sarah's ex-boyfriend, who knew my daughter as a child, took care of all of the flowers and arrangements.

Sarah's mom has a friend who was able to make a dress for my daughter to wear during the viewing; an Alice in Wonderland dress, because that was always her thing.

Sarah and her mom had already found the cheapest most decent funeral home that they knew of (her mom had used the place for her own mother's service), so I literally spent the next few days just having to answer yes and no questions.

It turned out that since my daughter never divorced the father of her second child (my grandson, Isaac, who was almost 7 at the time), even though they'd been separated and out of contact for a few years (she was engaged to someone else for at least a year), he was her next of kin, not me, and this brought forth a whole host of issues. He doesn't raise their son, his mother does, because he is either 1) insane, 2) brain damaged from drug use, 3) currently using drugs, or 4) a combination of all of the above. These things made the entire process very difficult for me.

They tried to dictate who could be invited to the funeral, which I wasn't on board with. They threatened me by saying that they would have her body transferred to the funeral home of their choosing and they would let me know when and where to show up. They said I could not have any locks of her hair. They said they would not split up her ashes. They even dictated to me that she be cremated, because they somehow knew (having only known her for a few years, and not knowing her at all, really, for the few years prior to her death) that she wanted to be cremated and that she wanted her ashes spread over the ocean.

I won't ever be able to understand why someone would treat the mother of a dead child the way that they treated me, but I've just added them to the list of people I'll have to figure out how to forgive somehow, eventually.

Everyone showed up for us, and I was so grateful for the presence of every single one of them. People I hadn't seen or spoken to in years, such as my ex-husband's ex-boss's ex-wife, lol.

I placed a son for adoption when I was 19, and though I had met him in person once, he and my other kids had not met. He and my daughter had been talking a lot on social media, and he had planned to come visit and meet everyone in May, after he graduated college, but ended up coming in April for her funeral, instead. He never even got to hear her voice.

There is so much I want to use this blog for. I want to document my own journey through this grief. I want to talk about addiction and help destigmatize the way people view addicts. I want to offer resources and maybe even hope. And I want to remember my daughter.

Her name was Jade. She was 26 years old when she died. She was one of the funniest, coolest, most creative, beautiful people you could have ever known. Yes, the addiction was a part of her journey, her struggle, but she was more than that. And I intend to honor ALL of who she was, by speaking the truth.

The truth is that she died from the toxic effects of an accidental overdose of heroin and methamphetamine. But that's just one part of her story, and mine, and I need to tell them both, even if no one ever reads a single word I type. I need to tell these stories.

Since I started with her death, here is a photo recap of what there is to know so far:

#grief #overdose #addiction #loss #bereavement #grieving

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callmekittyc · 5 years

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Chiang Mai Life

Have you ever seen the commercial or ad or whatever that says "Tiny keyboard, Big headache"? Well let me just say that's how i feel about typing these blog posts from my phone. We all know I'm more of a novelist... so that is why I have been slacking. Also I'm on vacation, and this somehow feels a bit like work. So this is for all 14 of my loyal followers, you're welcome. Let me give you an update on things:

1. Holy temples! Chiang Rai is the bees knees!! If you want to see some of the most bizarre, yet detailed oriented, and slightly questionable artwork I highly recommend the White Temple and the Baandam Museum (aka the Black House). Let me break them down for you and ed-u-ma-cate you.

A. The White Temple: My thoughts, "Do I really want to go to another temple? There's going to be so many tourists... ugh. Guess I'll go." Please excuse my American Millennial slang when I say OMFG! THAT SHIT WAS DOPE AF! Seriously. The amount of time and detail that's put into this is crazy. So this temple got started in 1997 by some master artist that has an odd obsession with all things pop culture and politically questionable. It is a 90 year work in progress! As in, most people reading this will be dead when it's completed. (Sorry for the bluntness) But yea you can see for yourself what I mean by artistically gifted. I only wish they would have allowed me to take pictures of the murals that line the insides of this "sacred place". Inside you'll not only find a wax figure of Buddha, but hidden gems like Pikachu, Hello Kitty, and even, the attractive Keanu Reeves. If you go to any temple at all, it should be this one because the artwork speaks for itself. I'm slightly disappointed I only paid 2 cents to get in.

B. The Baandam Museum is truly one of the most extensive collection of animal bones I've ever seen. "Baan" means house, while "dam" translates to black so it literally translates to Black House. This was by far my favorite "museum" I've ever been to. It probably would seem creepy to most, but the artist lines the walls of 43 structures with animal bones, skulls, skins, and the most detailed woodworking I've ever seen. Bones are assembled in an almost ritualistic way. It's beautiful.

2. While the title of this post is "Chiang Mai Life", Chiang Rai is where I had my self- actualization moment. I had some seriously deep thoughts in the mountains of Chiang Rai that really has changed my perspective on quite a few things. I also experienced the most beautiful thing in my life. I'm not kidding. I was speechless for the first time. I think everyone has at least one of those moments in their life where the world quite literally stops for you. All is quiet. And you can't think of anything more beautiful. Maybe it's holding a child you just gave birth to, maybe it's experiencing love for the first time, maybe it's jumping out of a plane.... everyone has a moment and I had one. Watching the sunset at one of the highest peaks while the full moon reflected in the background was breathless. It was my moment. My world stopped.

3. I met this stranger in a coffee shop. An older gentleman i had never seen and will most likely never see again. We had some of the most meaningful conversation and it made me realize several things. Travelers are a whole different people. I'm one of those people. We don't just travel, but we experience. We do things to learn more about the world. We make ourselves uncomfortable and do things others wouldn't normally do. We are wise and infinitely young. We live by doing, not by example. Although travelers are all so different and we each have our own story, we have a commonality in that we are always searching for new knowledge and new experiences. We revel in learning and doing. We love being.

Sorry for the deep thoughts here, but the post is called "Chiang Mai Life"...

4. Going back to Chiang Mai, I decided it's time to start doing. Even if it meant the touristy things, but YOLO and who knows if I'll ever come back to this magical place... so I booked a cooking class, a trekking tour, and a ziplining excursion. I'll break them down for you..

A. Cooking Class: This was awesome. It was Christmas day for me and I was kind of feeling sad and lonely. Well turns out, I ended up being the only person in that cooking class. I liked it though. The owner was very cool and took me to the local market and explained ingredients to me and showed me how to shop for the best items. We all know I come from a cooking household, but let me just say Thai cooking and ingredients are a brand new experience. Asia has so many fruits, vegetables, and spices I've never even heard of. After the market, I talked to a local about cooking methods, and after using a mortar and pestle for about 30 minutes, I have a new appreciation for pre-made chili paste. I almost boiled my arms because they were noodles at that point. I made 6 items: Cashew Chicken Stir-fry (Gai Pad Med Mamuang), Northern style chicken curry (Khao Soi), Coconut Milk and Chicken Soup (Tom Kah Gai), Spring Rolls, Mango Sticky Rice, and Red Chili paste.

B. Trekking Tour: Made for beginners or out-of shape people like me, this little tour was perfect. We started at this phenomenal waterfall in the famous Doi Inthanon National Park. Then we trekked about 3km through the jungle to a hill tribe village, belonging to the Karen people. We passed fields of strawberries, rice, chrysanthemums, and coffee plants. We crossed bridges made of bamboo and even caught a glimpse of an electric green python native to Southeast Asia. After we got to the village, we were able to watch how the coffee was roasted, hand ground and brewed. From there, we went to two pagodas honoring the queen and late King. Our tour concluded with a visit to a hill tribe market overflowing with fresh produce and local honey.

C. Zipling: Please see my Google rating for "Jungle Flight Chiang Mai" for a more detailed description. Ha. Kidding. Although the review is way more kickass than this. Ziplining was awesome yet slightly terrifying. I'm pretty sure I've once before mentioned the safety protocols in Thailand... they're non existant. I'm pretty sure OSHA would have something to say. (Harley maybe you shouldn't visit) But damn I'm glad it was questionable because flying through the mountains was exhilarating. Getting slung around on a zipline roller coaster left me squealing with delight! To the losers that said, "I like more extreme sports." You're missing out!

Sorry if this post was too short but honestly, the experiences have just been so much fun! I don't have any complaints or overly funny stories because I'm living in the moment... Although my instructor for the ziplining course said I need to use my ass more. He's quite right though. Looking at my inflated pancake ass has me longing for a stairmaster and a salad. Damn Northern Thailand and their delicious food... Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and will have a Happy New Year! I promise I've thought about every single one of you.

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

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youtube

Do not protect and go the distence for COVID-19 patients. You will die from it.

California was sent 170 broken ventilators. They sent them and had them fixed...

Point. You can just use an air pump for a blow up mattress. Use an electric one or have them pump their own manual one which is preferred.

Airflow in at a high rate of speed will force itself out. Like a cyclone. They don't need comfort of each single breath.

You're illegally trying to keep them alive. They only need airflow of oxygen.

Check yourself.

What are you doing?

Time and time again from Day One I have said only evil can get this disease

Why are you trying to save what will kill you?

I can go into graphic details. But i want you to simply logistically understand.

You are saving what will kill and destroy you and your kids and your family..

Would you resurrect Hitler or Stalin? Each COVID-19 patient is the equivalent.

That is what you are doing in those hospitals.

So i again have taken control and created hospitals where proper care will be given.

Realize why.

Why have I taken your independence away to treat and save lives?

You are irresponsible and not following directions.

I'm not here to shame you but shake you awake. With love and guidance..

I hope you all understand better.

I cannot punish you for your love of life. I refuse to. So I take away your "right" to care for such individuals that will kill and harm you.

This is the lessons of life. They are evil i said. They belong in jails. On Death Row

You are preventing the execution of Death Row inmates whom have been legally proven to be guilty with standalone evidence.

There is so many emotions of high intensity.

Stop feeling. Start thinking of your own safety. Your own sanity.

I say they are evil. A child with 800 years of daily hands on intense experience has diverted it several times to include only evil.

And you don't understand to comprehend in a way your actions make any sense.

You a life saver are attempting to destroy the world.

Is that your intent?

Or are you afraid to think on your own?

Afraid of change?

Afraid society will turn their backs on you and throw rocks in your face?

Why are you afraid? I am here to protect you.

I have not said stop giving them masks. I have supported hand washing. I have not said stop giving aide to the hospitals, my own company, the biggest in the world is sending directly from factory to hospitals. I support you and allow you the convenience of protecting your self from some something that won't even hurt you.

So you need to stop. Realize the person you're tending is not your child. Not your self. But a monster created with greed and only greed accompanied by violence and hate.

For you.

I have not once thanked the hospital workers.

You didn't wonder why? I didn't forget you exist. ABC kept posting thank them thank them. No. I could not. I care yes. But i cannot thank.

I can love yes. But i cannot appreciate.

The whole world with sanitation and social distancing disrespects and destroys my ability to easily kill with COVID-19.

But I must comfort and prove to our Underworld we will do all we can to accommodate and honor their existence.

I look at social media and all I see is a mess concerning COVID-19

What would not make it a mess is allowing sick people out. Not isolate. Quarentine with freedom like the rest of us. No hospital care mesns they die quicker and its actually not painful. There is a sudden panic but other than that it's a fair die in your sleep death.

It with COVID-19 is an average of 9 days.

Y'all are keeping them alive for months. And so you are torturing. Which is fine and acceptable.

But the disease must spread..

Clean door knobs because people are disgusting and don't wash after shitting. Or holding their Dick to per or after eating greasy food.

But don't sanitize for COVID-19

Clean for dog shit in the park. Grime and dirt in halls

The sanitation process of all this you don't understand. It's called janitorial services.

Cleaning what you never do. Finding beautiful things that is covered under centuries of dirt.

Clean the walls. You never do.

Hospitals don't clean walls.

Clean the walls.

Take pride in what you have that is good and you want to keep.

To rejoin the Union once you secede. You have to promise to wash hands and clean walls.

That has been set for 265 years. I didn't just make it up.

So I didn't have to tell you anything you would been told in 6 months.

But you humans need to get real.

Things are bad here. You're not making them worse because we are in a controlled and predicted environments. Otherwise i wouldn't have back up plans that go into immediate action.

So torture them and keep them alive longer --- but if you don't know that is what you are doing then you dont enjoy it. And you should..what you are making worse is for what happens to you. You are draining your own life from your soul.

I can't continue to allow that to happen. We predicted it would and so now they will go to my hospital

If you prevent a COVID-19 patient from going to my make shift hospitals you will be jailed and fined and labeled a terrorist.

That is horrible to do to you but what you are doing to Your mind and soul is worse.

You are a terrorist to yourself at that point.

So think about you. .what are you doing?.

All this time I've given you the facts list.

And you threw it out the window as if it Didn't exist..

You don't believe in human trafficking's existence? The earth is flat? You don't believe rapists roam this earth? Child abusers? You don't think any would hurt you?

Nothing bad will happen to you? You're innocent?

Aliens don't care. Evil doesn't care. Hate doesn't care.

I set you the most difficult of traps.

COVID-19

Wash your hands every one barks

Stay home everyone says

And you do. And you don't know why.

And no one has asked me to this dying day

David Muir has asked me a few specifics. Which I did explain.

I am asking "why are hospitals treating these ill people?"

I already said once don't be incubating sick people let them roam free and spread the disease

How many times do i need to say it?

I say i will pay you. One time I say it. You do it and you get paid.

Because I'm not paying you to do what is right. To do what yoh understand you do shit you have no ideas why but just because someone said.

Don't question authority that makes no fucking sense.

Amazon 38% of my employees were going to walk out and get abducted and enslaved into human traffic.

All they had to do was smell the bathroom. Look at the janitor washing walls two times a week the entire time you fucking worked there.

I'm just going to say it. You're stupid.

There is no other way to finalize it. You're perfectly stupid.

Stop being stupid.

Of that 38% 9% was going to be brutally raped.

22% of that 38% has been target marked for evil and illegal aliens full of greed.

Which means 16% of y'all are stupid. I do prefer the term naive in most cases but this was pure stupidity in Amazon factories talking about it needed to be closed and sanitzed. The air is sanitized 3 different ways. In a 4 foot thick carbon filter down lit UV air ducts of 17 feet minimum to 89 feet. Then in the actual building with lights on the walls and the air is cycled so it rotates past those lights 19 times a minute. Now what the fuck is wrong with you?

You thought you could trust some One that said they're your friend?

You wanted paid time off?

You just wanted to experience a protest? Mind you for no good of a reason. You may as well burned a cross in my yard and lit me on fire for my skin color.

What the fuck?

Don't do this shit any more. I said the world is dangerous. The world is dangerous.

Trust me my own soulmate Is as stupid as all of you 16%. He got poisoned by Radon. I looked at 1 picture and knew.

Matching goggles.

So Amazon you don't understand your facility is clean when your walls are bleached 2 times a week or when you get emails to wash your hands or use more soap when you do?

When the pandemonium occurred the email to reassure you with the facts of the cleanliness didn't come to mind?

Or that only evil people get COVID-19? And that is the only deadly one?

Matching goggles. Alex never wears goggles. I was looking and i was thinking he kinds look like a cop.. Sexy cop hot.

Then i looked at the other guy who doesn't but realized they have the same exact kind. And he doesn't wear a bike helmet. He wears a motor bike one.

And i realized that guy looks pure evil. I had him assassinated before daylight.

So there's all these EVIL people I say i will kill with disease. And you all stop them. Try to prevent that?

Look like i said my honey bun is a complete idiot moron sociopath.

So y'all don't think you're better than him.

I don't know this dude didnt escape the hospital on COVID-19 and steal an oxygen tank he wouldn't otherwise had access to because he only keeps radiotherapy at his home. Then rode down with Alex while on oxygen stolen from the hospital that he hid in this photo. Do you? He felt better because you as a nurse or doctor allowed him to feel better. To get better for a few days.

Hello. What the fuck are you doing?

Killing my stupid husband. The love of my life. I've never loved any one more than him.

And yet you kill him. You kill me.

DNA4U has a list of your only friends in the world. Don't play with any one else. Dont take advice from anyone else. Don't let anyone else in your house. World-wide. That is a command. You will be punished if you don't. Because you will do something stupid and hurt yourself. That is a fact. Proven by my nearly late husband. Which by the way he should had picked me up already.

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