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lyon-amore · 1 year

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The half of me Chapter 26

Chapter 25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Colville things were moving much faster. People come and go as if they were late somewhere and there is much more noise. Although also in the noise I manage to find hidden sounds that could perfectly be urban music. "MC, over here!" Jane calls me to approach the group. I had distracted for a second, seeing why Daliah liked this place. Here nobody knows you because it is a very big place with so many people that nobody pays attention to you. At least I only have to go out in one scene even if I have to talk. I had to study my lines during the train ride. Why don't they just remove this scene from the script? I try to pay attention to Carter, even though I'm nervous. Knowing that I have to act unprofessional makes my stomach churn. Is it too late to go back?

I'm supposed to act like I'm mad at them, but I have a hard time. Besides, I don't know how to act! I sit on a park bench after missing take after take. I don't do it well. Why have they decided that I should act? Has no sense. “You're doing great.” Grace sits next to me, smiling up at me. I roll my eyes. I'm not doing it right. Why are she lying? "I know you're trying to cheer me up, but this time it's not working" I answer annoyed ". Eliminate Daliah's character in this scene, use another actress or actor, I'm going home.” I get up from the bench to leave, but Grace stops me. "Just as dramatic as your sister" she makes me sit down and grabs my arm ". What if you think of the moment that made you most angry and use it to act?" The moment that annoyed me the most? Knowing that Daliah betrayed me and told Elliot everything, but using it on set? I don't want to be mad at her, it's not right. I'll use my anger against Elliot, which at least is more recent. "That expression says it all." he lets out a giggle "Who made you angry?" "Elliot..." "Now hearing that name I understand everything" I see how he sighs exaggeratedly ". I never liked him when he was dating Daliah." "That's..." I try to calm down, I don't want to sound angry while talking to her "Because maybe you noticed that he wasn't in love with Daliah..." She stares at me surprised, understanding what I say. Now I feel guilty for what Daliah went through with him. She didn't deserve it. Maybe if I could back in time, I'd warn Daliah and… Maybe… No, I don't think I could… Because she looked so happy. "Do you know what you need?" She smiles at me mischievously "A crazy night of partying" she gives me a little push, laughing ". My mother has a place, we can go after shooting the scenes, what do you think?" "I don't know, I don't even have appropriate clothes-" "I'll lend you clothes!" She exclaims quickly ". At my parents' house I have everything I need for when I come to Colville" I look away, uncomfortable ". Please…" She starts looking at me like she's a puppy. With a sad face I guess... Maybe just for one night... I could find out how Daliah felt about being in Colville and see what really happened here. "I guess so" I say resignedly ", besides, I want to know what happened to Daliah here." "That will be complicated, but…" She starts to think, and then smiles "We always went to my mother's place, so since I'm going to take you there, maybe someone there who has known her knows something, okay then?" I nod and she hugs me, excited. She laughs a little at me and she stands up, then looks at me. "You'll see! You are going to have a death time!" I am already regretting it. I listen to the phone and see that there is a chat between Carter and Mason. The two people I never thought would text each other. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-----Carter has connected-----

Carter How is Seo-ah? Do you know something?

-----Mason has connected-----

Mason No, he I mean, she Sorry, I didn't mean to offend her...

Carter Hey, calm down, you found out When she wakes up, you can talk to her about it

Mason Yes, I hope… Well, I can't be in the room right now The cops are watching her in case the killer comes back to kill her

Carter It's understandable

Mason I guess now I understand a lot of things...

Carter What do you mean?

Mason MC has told me that her father hates her So, I thought that the weekend that she didn't connect…

Carter She has to do with problems at home, right?

Mason Yeah…

Carter Well, not all parents are the same And now she needs us

Mason I wonder who could have left her in that state Who in our group has been

Carter I would love to know as much as you

Mason I don't think we know Ralph's or Grace's alibi

Carter Ralph with how high he goes is not capable of murdering anyone and Grace I'm not saying it was her just because I don't like her

Mason Aren't you friends?

Carter No, we never have been I was just faking it for Daliah She was the one who pushed us away when we went to high school

Mason I didn’t know it

Carter Yes, she changed her favorite friend because Grace lived a luxurious life, just the way she liked it

Mason Well, goes perfect with Daliah😕 Even though I expected it

Carter She wasn't always like you know her

Mason Oh The doctor comes to check her I'll leave you, I'll wait for him to come out

Carter Isn't it better that we talk? I say it because of the nerves

Mason No, I prefer it that way

Carter OK Will you tell us what the doctor says?

Mason I will Thanks carter

Carter You're welcome Mason For this we are the classmates 🙂

Mason 🙂

-----Mason has disconnected----- -----Carter has disconnected----- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look at Ralph who has a bandage on his face. According to Grace, he got it by shaving because he had been smoking weed. Which makes me trust less now. Both Grace and Ralph have marks on their faces and the one who tried to kill Seo-ah must have a wound because it has been shown that she had broken nails from defending herself against them. The question is who should I trust now? Knowing that Ralph is involved in drugs, maybe he could be the killer. And we still haven't found any leads against Grace, I'm scared to suspect her, what if I end up making a mistake like I did with Richy? Like I not realize it was him? To think that Grace… It would be terrible. She was my sister's best friend. It would be a second betrayal.

We return to film the scene and I wait for my turn to say my line. I do what Grace has told me, remember an angry moment. I think of Elliot and what he did, but my mind goes to Daliah and all the secrets she kept. How she always told me to stay away from Jake. When she got in the way of Elliot and me. What Grace told me, that she didn't want me to come to Colville. These are things I didn't see until now, but now I see that Daliah liked to handle me the way she wanted. I clench my hands tightly, feeling all the rage inside me. I'd never been mad at her, but now…So much stuff has accumulated, just like with Elliot, that I want to get it out of her. "Do you really think I'll listen to you?! This was all your idea! It's your fault that a crazy killer is following us! YOU BROUGHT US INTO THIS WHEN YOU DECIDED TO SUMMON HIM! “I push the guy who also performs with us, but I really want to push someone else. And is not even in the script "I'm leaving! I'm not going to be next!" I walk away as I listen to him call me by my character's name. "Cut!" Carter yells and stops walking, shaking for the moment. Exciting "Great, MC! That's what we needed!" I smile shyly and he approaches me "Do you think you can maintain this attitude for the following scenes?" "Yeah, I think so." I reply, taking a deep breath. "Perfect! Well, get ready." he look at the rest of the group and clap your hands "Let's go with the next take! Grace gives me a thumbs up, giving me approval that I've done well. Well, it seems that in the end, acting doesn't seem as difficult as I thought.

When we finished filming, we started packing everything up. Jane approaches me with a smile. "Carter and I are going" she tells me with a smile "are you coming with us?" "I promised Grace that I would go with her to the place where her mother works." I replied as I went to collect the scripts. "Are you going to that club at night?" I watch as she arches an eyebrow in surprise. I nod and makes a sound of surprise "I don't know if it's a good idea..." "Why?" "I don't know, I don't see you going to a place like that, MC." Since I'm still feeling angry, I put the scripts in the backpacks with a zipper and look at her with a frown. "And how do you see me then?" I cross my arms, annoyed "Come on, what am I like?" "I'm sorry, I didn't say it in a bad way" she also answers me annoyed ", what's wrong with you?" I bite the inside of my cheek until it hurts. Yes, the anger doesn’t go away. "Sorry, it's just…" I sigh and push my hair back, trying to relax "It's sister business." “I see…" Carter walks over to us and kisses Jane on her hair, then he looks at the two of us. "Are you two ready?" "Yes" answers Jane ", but MC stays with Grace." I notice annoyance in her voice. Does she also dislike Grace? Carter looks at me surprised and I ignore his look. “Okay then” he says simply ". See you tomorrow then." "Yes." I say sharply. I see how they take some materials and leave with the rest of the group. I feel a push, a hug from behind. "Girls night out!" Yells Grace "It's going to be great!" "Okay, but I don't drink alcohol" I say, feeling uncomfortable. I don't think I like anyone else treating me this way except Jake, is that weird? “Oh, don't worry” she tells me as we start walking “, you can ask for non-alcoholic drinks." I adjust my bag better, following her.

Grace's parents live in the center of the city, where everything is even noisier and there are many more tourists. She opens the door to the apartment, revealing a pretty doorway with flowers and a mirror with a countertop full of photos. I take one and see that she comes out with her parents. A brown-haired man and a blonde woman, while a teenage Grace stands out in the center. I see that even the photo has a cut next to the man. "And this?" "This?" Grace takes the photo making a face "My good brother" she leaves the photo on the counter ", he cut it as soon as he left home, well" she lets out a laugh ", he cut all the photos he was in! But hey, I don't blame him." I follow her as she continues walking, she even greets an employee and I do the same, a little more shy. She walks into the room and when I see it, I am amazed. It looked like a room of those movie girls who are rich. "And now" she approaches some opaque glass doors and opens them ", my closet!” She says, posing. I stare at how big it is. The clothes are separated by styles and colors, just like the shoes. I go in looking at everything, it could even function as another room. "How is it that having this you decided to go to Rosenschwarz?" "I asked my mother to go study at the Rosenschwarz institute because it was more welcoming to me" she answers, starting to look for clothes in the big closet ", and when I was able to move, I chose to live there because life is much calmer" she takes out a black strapless dress and looks at me ". Mmm… No, black doesn't suit you." she puts it back and she keeps looking. She continued looking at the closet and I see that she has a section just for jewelry at the end. I recognize one of her bracelets. Daliah had one as a friendship bracelet with Grace. I run my finger over the 'BFF' on the bracelet. “Wait” Grace walks over to me and places it on me ". There you go, we're friends now.” she says with a smile. “Daliah had one too.” I comment, looking at the bracelet on my hand. "Yes, I gave it to her" she hands me a dark blue dress with thinner straps ". These hit more with your eyes." I pick it up and look at it. It's styled like it's wrinkled and it's shorter than I thought. More than Daliah's garments were. "I don't know if this is for me." I reply, handing it back. "Not at all, she tells me rejecting it ", at least try it on." I take a deep breath and nod. She shows me the way to the bathroom and I go to change.

Seeing myself in the mirror makes me feel strange. The fabric is silk and very fine. Is this what Grace wears to go out? She knocks on the door and I get scared. I was too focused on the dress. "How does it look on you?" She asks me. "Well, I think…" I answer, a little unsure. I open the door and Grace examines me. "Shoes" she runs away and brings high-heeled ones the same color as the dress ". Take this one." I feel like a Barbie right now. Like a human doll. I put them on and take a few slow steps. Ok, it doesn't seem very complicated. I stumble a bit and Grace laughs. "Let's put them on with a little less heel." she leaves again and I take them off. This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. Not even with Daliah did I do these things. She was very careful with all the makeup and clothes when we were trying on something. When Grace returns, she hands me slightly lower heels. "Now, the finishing touches." She sits me down in her vanity chair and she starts doing my makeup. As I was saying, I am a human doll. “Daliah and I used to do this on the weekends” she tells me, a hint of happiness in her voice ". I missed it..." "Are you substituting me for her?" I ask awkwardly. “No, how can you think of that?" She laughs "For me it was like having a sister, since it's very different from having a brother who doesn't care about makeup." "Well... Not all boys like to be the model for her sister." I let out a laugh, I don't know what her brother must be like, but it doesn't seem like she has a grudge against him. "Right" she turns me around and she shows me the mirror ". Ready, like a movie star.” She reaches out her hand and picks up a necklace hanging from the mirror, putting it on me. In it, a small pendant of a horse with diamond hooves ". The final touch. Well?" I look at myself in the mirror, surprised. Grace is talented, no doubt about it. I look at the pendant. This Daliah would have hated, although I find it beautiful. “You're amazing, Grace.” I tell her with a smile. "I'm just doing my job." she strokes my hair, thinking "What do we do with this? Do you want something special?" "No, it's fine like that-" "I know! Let's curl it up a bit!" She's not going to care what I tell her, isn't she? She is almost the same as Daliah. Both are the same. She warms up the curling iron a bit and starts using it on my hair. I look at her in the reflection, somewhat confused. "Why do you do it?" I ask looking at her. "Because I think that because of Daliah you missed a lot of things" I swallow as I heard her speak ". You didn't deserve take you away from all this, you know?" She places a lock of curly hair falling in front of me "I don't want to say this because she was my best friend, but she was wrong to do it, I would have liked you to come." Her gaze seems far away when she says it. Almost expressionless. Then she smiles and continues to curl my hair as if everything is fine. As if what she had said hadn't hurt me. Daliah didn't want me to come because I guess she knew this wasn't about me, it was about her. Her and her show business. Then I feel the curling iron brush the back of my neck and I scream in fright. "Sorry!" Grace exclaims "Let me see" she lifts my hair and lets out a laugh ". It's okay, you'll be fine." << Has she done it on purpose? Is she supposed to have done this multiple times? Is she actually mad at me because I look like Daliah and it bothers her that she's dead and I'm not? Or maybe I think too much?>> I try to calm down. This is getting more and more terrifying, like in a psychological horror movie. Are we still recording and are there cameras in the room?

Once ready, she calls for a man to take us. Her driver, she told me. I'm surprised again, Grace has a lot of fancy things, who would turn them down to go to Rosenschwarz? I look out the window, the night lights illuminate more than in the town and people begin to be calmer, as if they were relaxed. I seem strange observing everything as if I were a newborn beginning to see the world. I rest my hand on the glass and watch my hand. She has even painted my nails in a very delicate way, placing small stones on some of my nails. Tonight I look like a different person.

The car stops and I look outside. It's a lot more crowded than it was at Evergreed when Jake and I went to see Mike. "MC, let's go" Grace warns me, tapping her on the shoulder ", or are we going to stay in the car all night? Not my plan, but if you want." I blush with embarrassment and open the door. I had been observing everything in detail. Once out of the car, some people look at me as if they recognized me. "Relax, they must be people who knew Daliah." Grace grabs my arm and greets the doorman, entering the premises. It's an environment with bright lights and people dancing on the floor. It's quite hot, like it's in an oven. I could say that even more than Two Candles and from that place you could feel the warmth of the people, but here it is different. "Come on, I'll introduce you to my mother!" Grace yells at me, dragging me to the bar. I try to walk as best I can because of my heels, I can walk in them, but I can't run at her pace. There are people at the bar drinking and laughing, and I catch a glimpse of the woman in the photo. I'm surprised that's her mother. She looks too young. "Mom!" She pulls me, approaching the bar "This is MC, she's Daliah's sister." The woman looks at me like she's seen a ghost, but then she smiles. A feline smile. One as if she had seen something new. "Let me see her" She grabs my face, digging her long nails into me. Her expression is serious, as if she doesn't like seeing me there ". Yes, the resemblance is incredible" she turn my face a little to see me from all possible angles ". She's just like a pretty doll, just like her sister." she smiles at me and let go of my face, to which I rub my hand, feeling a little sore "A drink girls?" She pulls out a couple of glasses and starts pouring a little whiskey into one of them. "Oh, not me-" "You're not going to get drunk just for one, sweetie." she tells me laughing. "My mom makes the best drinks she ever has." Grace makes me look at her, turning me around as she holds me by her arms "You're going to freak out!" "But I said that-" I get a tap on her shoulder and I turn to see her mom drag the glass over to me. "Don't worry, I didn't put too much alcohol, we don't want you to get drunk at your first party." she winks at me, amused. I look at the glass doubtfully. I see that it has Coca-Cola. I takes it and smell, exactly, Coca-Cola as I thought. But I can slightly appreciate the hint of liquor. Grace looks at me waiting for me to drink and I take a small sip. Well, at least the whiskey isn't strong. "I'm here if you need more." her mother tells us. “Thank you mom.” Grace walks over to her and places a kiss on her cheek, after she pulls me away ". Let's have fun." I take another sip following her steps. We stayed at a table, watching people dance. I dare not leave the glass alone. I fan out a bit, starting to get hot. I have the body on fire. “Let's dance.” Grace begs me. "Can it be when I finish the drink?" I ask, not wanting to sound like a killjoy. "I'll take care of them now." Ralph approaches our table and leans on "How's it going?" he asks Grace, nodding at me. "We're doing well" she answers, grabbing his arm ", and you?" "What are you doing here?" I ask surprised to see him. I thought that these things were not going for him, that he was a loner. "Grace told me you would be here." he tells me with a smile. I don't know why, but I get nervous seeing him smile like that. I had never seen him like this. “Well, no problem then.” Grace grabs my hand, dragging me onto the floor. She encourages me to dance by moving my arms first and then I try to imitate her. Her movements are like an expert and she laughs when she sees that I look at her to imitate her. We then call the attention of some boys who approach us and with a look, she tells me to do it. I don't know why, but I accept, I mean, I'm not going out again more than this day. I let the boy dance with me, placing his hands on my hips. I smile at the tickle of his breath and let him kiss me. I kiss back fast, almost as if it were a necessity, and then pull away, feeling my throat dry. I need to drink. "Do you need a new partner for the dance?" Ralph asks me, looking me up and down. I get a little dizzy when I finish my drink, it must be that I'm not used to drinking. "No, why?" I look in the same direction and see him dancing with Grace and the other boy "Oooooh…. I think I'm left over." I say with a laugh. "I've brought another drink" he tells me, dragging the glass to the table ". Courtesy of the owner of the place." "Thanks." I said that I only wanted one, but hey... I take a sip and hear Ralph laugh. "You say what am I doing here" he tells me, getting closer to me ", but what about you? This site is more for girls like Grace and Daliah." I shake my head, starting to find myself a little strange. "I only came because Grace asked me to" I reply, looking into his eyes "Don't you like this song? You want to dance? I need someone to dance with!" I laugh, taking his hand to drag him onto the floor with me. My whole body feels nervous, agitated. It's like I want to let it all go, but in my head, there are little hammering sounds that make me dizzy. But I don't want to stop dancing. That's what I feel. And all the people start to blur around me, except for Ralph, who is in front of me, looking at me. Stand still. While I dance, feeling strangely happy. That's when he stops me, bringing his hand to my waist. We walk back and I can't stop laughing, until he raises his hand to my face, squeezing me hard. Maybe it's because of the drink that I end up letting him kiss me. The boy who always kept his distance from everything, dares to kiss me. And I forget for a complete moment what I was doing, kissing back, like it was the most important thing at the moment. I run my hands through his hair, pressing his body against mine, noting how he separates my legs with his knee. I feel too hot right now.

One moment…

Wasn't he Grace's boyfriend?

Boyfriend… Boyfriend… Me… Someone special to me…

I react by remembering what is happening and noticing a hand up my dress. I push Ralph away and look at him, not knowing what to say, bringing my hand to my mouth, wiping it clean. My head is hammering me, everything is spinning. I see his eyes, which instead of a light blue tone, seem almost dark, like the night, and I am terrified. I start by breathing hard, starting to get away from there. What did I just do? What have I done all this time? My attitude... Wait, I've kissed another guy before! Why have I done it? What's happening to me? The alcohol? Is that? Is it the whiskey? The more questions I ask myself, the more nervous I get, leaving the room gasping for breath.

There is no one to ask me if I'm okay or if I need help. Nobody cares about me. I put a hand to my throat, having trouble breathing. I look around and start to walk, but where? I don't know where I am or in what part of the city this station is. I look at my clothes. It chokes me that it's so attached, but I can't get it off. The feeling of wanting to vomit when remembering what I just did in the local returns. I feel awful, that wasn't me, was it? No, no, no, no, no… "What do I do?!" I ask myself, unable to breathe "What do I do, what do I do?! What am I supposed to do?! I've left Grace alone! I don't know where I have to go!" my heart begins to beat fast "Call! Yeah! I have to call!" I know that people on the street look at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I just look like a poor drunk. I grab my phone from the bag Grace lent me and use the call command on Nymos, but I fail writing it several times. So many that in the end it's Jake who calls me. "MC?" Hearing his voice I get nervous, remembering what happened "What is wrong?" I can tell from his voice that he is worried. He knows something is up. "I don't know where I am!" I reply quickly, wanting to tug at my shirt sleeve. But I remember I'm not wearing any, so I just pinch myself " Everything is spinning! Everything is wrong! It's like it's fast! And I can't breathe! And-" "Okay, calm down." his voice sounds a bit calm, but I can tell he's nervous. Because of me " Where are you?" “In Colville!" I shout back. "Why are you in Colville?" "I was in a nightclub with Grace and suddenly I don't know what happened! I... I don't understand anything! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! But everything is bad!" "What street are you on now?" I can hear his heavy footsteps behind the phone. "I don't know! I can't read it! I don’t know what's happening! I can't read the letters! They move! Everything is going fast!" "Sit somewhere you can, alright?" "I'm very scared, I'm having a hard time breathing-" "I will try to locate you, stay on the phone to keep talking." “Okay." I sit on the floor in the corner, positioning my legs comfortably. I want to vomit right now everything I've drunk. It's like I've been on a carousel that doesn't stop. “Good, located, I am going.” he finally says. I nod and notice a shadow blocking the light from a streetlight. I look up and see a man standing there looking at me. "Are you alone?" he asks me, with a strange smile. "MC?" I hear Jake on the other end of the line "Get away now!" The guy grabs my arm and I scream scared.

*Jake POV*

"MC! MC, ANSWER!" I yell before the call hangs up. I hurried down to the street, starting the bike. I look at my phone and try to memorize the route, even though I know I will have to stop to see the other half. I hope to arrive on time!

I arrive and find her surrounded by a group of people, while she is hugging herself. I get off the bike and walk over, looking at her. She has dilated pupils and I can see that she is sweating quite a bit. "Are you alright?!" I ask nervously. "We've been keeping her company" says a boy from the group ", she gave a guy who was harassing her a good heel on the head, so we stayed to take care of her." MC nods, resting her head on my chest. I try to calm down, hugging her. “Thank you.” I tell them, feeling relieved that they took care of her. In the rush, I do not wear a mask, I was too worried about her that I did not care if I put it on or not. “Your girlfriend isn't very good at taking substances” the girl next to her says ". Whatever she's taken is going to last her a couple of days." “Jake” MC calls out to me, then laughs “, I made someone bleed." I frown upon seeing her change of attitude. On the phone she was nervous. I make her look at me and I can see that she smiles looking at me. “Come on, I will take you home." “No, not home.” she answers, hugging me tighter. "Anyway, we're going now" the group says goodbye, leaving us alone. I try to move MC a bit to move her away, examining her better. I see that she is different. It doesn't look like her. She looks more like her sister. "Can you walk?" I ask still worried. "The question is can I breathe?" She says between laughs, and then ends up crying, hugging me "I'm sorry… I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm so sorry, Jake!" "Calm down" I whisper, stroking her hair ", you are going to sleep as soon as we get home." "No, I don't want to" she places her hands on my face, smiling ". Let's do it in that alley, I'm hot." I sigh looking at her fearfully. I do not know what she is taken, but I do not like this MC at all. "Alright" I reply so that she would listen to me and thus move her towards the sidecar ". we will go to the alley, but first we will go home." When I get her into her seat, she put her hands to my pants, wanting to unbutton them. I stop her and she laughs. I squat down next to her, caressing her face. "Come on, a quickie" she says between laughs ", don't you like it that way? Am I not attractive? Don't you want to fuck me hard?" “You are high." "Yes, a little, but I don't know how if I've only had a Coca-cola with a little bit of whiskey" she leans back, looking at the sky "And if you come in and we'll have it here? It's small, but I'm sure you'll fit" I see how she starts rise up her dress and I stop her "Come on Jake! Fuck me!" I put a hand to her face, not wanting to hear her say those things. It is not her. How did she manage to get high like this? "Yes, yes" I answer without further ado, getting back on the motorcycle ". Right now I am going in and we will have it in there." She lets out a laugh and, more out of her concern than mine about getting a ticket, I put the helmet on her. "Hey, I can't see you like this." she replies annoyed. "You will thank me if we have an accident." "And can I go with Daliah?" She ask with a touch of joy in her voice "So I can discuss with her everything she has done!" I shake my head, hoping this will pass soon. Tomorrow she will have to explain many things to me.

We reach the flats and I remove her helmet, carefully lifting her up afterward. “Pull your foot out slowly.” I say quietly. “Jake, the ground is spinning” she says awkwardly “. I think he's drunk." "Yes, the ground is drunk-" She cuts me off by kissing me, placing her hands on my face. I take her hands and lower them, placing them on the sides of her body. "MC, no." I say seriously. "For once I take the initiative..." "Believe me when I say that I do not want it this way." I sigh, taking her hand, making her walk slowly ". Come on, go to sleep-" She raises her hand as if to stop me and vomits. I gather up her hair, not bothering me if I got splashed. I care more about her than my clothes. "Jake, what's going on?" She asks me scared "I don't feel well." "Look at me" I make her look at me, she still has dilated pupils and her skin is on fire ". Do not worry, as soon as you get some sleep you will feel better." "I'm sorry…" "It is okay, love" I kiss her on the forehead and she laugh ". I am going to watch you so that nothing bad happens to you, okay?" She nods and leans into me. We walk slowly to the door and trying to open it, Rudy comes out with garbage bags, looking at us. "What's wrong with her?" She points to MC "Was it you? You bring a drunk girl home?" She asks me starting to get angry. "No, I do not-" "He's my boyfriend, Mrs. Ogre" says MC and I look at her between surprised and scared for her life "and you'd better speak to him well, he's a very dangerous guy." Rudy raises an eyebrow, like I am to blame for what ahe said. “I will take her to bed right now.” I say as quickly as possible, stepping into the portal. "Yeah, it'll be for the best before she says something she'll later regret." Rudy warns me. MC turns and walks towards her, and I go after her. "Can you believe that he didn't want to fuck with me?" She asks him, tongue tied "He's an idiot!" "Or too smart." Rudy looks at her and shakes her head. "Come on, MC." I push her away and we go straight to my apartment. "To fuck!" She yells happily. We walk into the apartment and I reach down to take her heels off of her. “Hey, this is so daring.” she says between laughs ". I'm going to take off my panties." "No!" I stop her and she pouts. "Why?" She caressed my hair carefully "Don't you love me anymore?" "Of course I love you." I carefully take her to the bathroom and sit her on her toilet. I grab a towel and start wiping the vomit off her face. It pains me to see her in this state. "Wait a minute." she raises his hand again, turning to face the toilet. She opens the lid and vomits. I gather up her hair, stroking her back. She begins to cry, sitting down on the floor. I crouch down next to her, stroking her hair. "It is over" I whisper, as kiss her head lovingly ". Tomorrow you will be fine." "Do you promise me?" She asks me, looking into my eyes, although it doesn't seem like she does. I inhale and nod. MC smiles and rests her head on my chest, falling asleep. I took her in my arms carrying her to the bed. I put one of my sweatshirts on her and gently lay her down, then bring a bucket from the kitchen in case she vomits again. Whatever she is taken, I feel like she's going to be like this all night. I see her tremble and I bring her closer to me, so that she stops feeling cold. "You are safe now" I whisper, stroking her hair ". Do not worry, I am with you."

Chapter 27

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

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saetoru · 2 years

Note

Okay but did touya ever fuck y/n in the conference room and get it crossed off the bucket list 😭

help 😭 ofc he did he’s touya. based on this fic

tags: fem! reader, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, unprofessional work relationships, ceo’s son! dabi aka touya, modern / business au

“t-touya, we shouldn’t—”

“nobody’s here,” he insists, pressing kisses down your neck and sucking on the skin. swatting his shoulder, you gasp as his fingers prod through your folds, pumping in and out of you with a gleam in his eyes. he loves this skirt on you, it’s so much easier to get where he wants.

“don’t leave any marks, i h-have to be in a meeting—”

“perfect. all eyes will be on you,” he winks, smirking at you with playful eyes. todoroki touya doesn’t like his father’s company building. he absolutely hates it. he usually never wants to step foot in it.

but, he’s been spending quite a bit of time here as of late, and you should be worried people will put two and two together and realize why, but you can’t help but keep giving into him every time.

it’s takes you everything not the cry out when your orgasm crashes over you, pulling him by the collar of his shirt into a needy kiss as he reciprocates. you hate that you can feel the smugness of his smile through the kiss. and you should hate the way he has you caged against the wall of the conference room, fingering you as though you don’t have a meeting in a bit, but you can’t, not when he draws you in so effortlessly.

and perhaps you should exercise a little self control, but touya has made it a mission to fuck you in every room of this damn building—ending with his father’s office. he gets what he wants, he makes sure of it, and something tells you that no matter what you tell him—or yourself, really—he’ll have you bent over enji’s mahogany desk one way or another.

he drinks in your moans as you squeeze around his fingers, groaning into the kiss. your hand finds it’s way to the bulge straining in his tight slacks—you’d never thought you’d get the pleasure of seeing him in them, but he never ceases to surprise you—and you palm him through the cloth.

“you’re so insufferable, do you know that?” you grumble, watching as he closes his eyes and moans softly at the friction. “an absolute handful.”

“i’ve been on my best behavior the last few days,” he says breathlessly, still managing to send you a smirk as your hands unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down, fisting his stiff length tightly. your thumb glides through his slit and collects the pre cum, smearing it before stroking him a few times. you watch as he throw his head back and moans, and it’s almost a bit too loud—like it’s on purpose.

“touya,” you hiss, looking past his shoulder at the door to see if the knob jiggles with someone coming in to check on the noise. thankfully, touya’s had enough sense to lock it. “stop being so loud,” you scold, and he pouts dramatically.

“what? i can’t help it,” he insists. he certainly can, but it’s always a matter of want with him. rolling your eyes, your hands unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt, hands roaming over his chest and tracing his tattoos. lifting your skirt up, he slips his length past your folds, groaning as you squeeze around his cock. “f-fuck doll,” he grunts, hips snapping as he angles his thrusts to hit your spot exactly. “hope my old man hears you,” he chuckles.

you want to staple touya’s mouth closed—but then again, you wouldn’t be able to see it hung open like this, wanton moans falling freely past his lips as he ruts his hips into you with a cruel pace.

“y-you won’t be able to fuck m-me in his office if i’m fired,” you counter, and he sends you the haughtiest smile you’ve ever seen. and you should smack it off of him, you think.

“ngh—so you admit you want to fuck me in there after all, huh?” he grunts into your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. and even if you want to deny it, you can’t. not when you squeeze around him at the thought of him taking you in such an unprofessional manner. but then again, nothing about touya is ever professional, this isn’t exactly anything new.

“do you ever shut up,” you scowl, but he thrusts particularly deep, and you can’t help but mewl at the way he hits your spot just perfectly, making you lean forward and dig your face into his chest.

he moans, pulling your body closer, panting into your neck as he buries his face into it, slamming into your cunt desperately. your hands fist his shirt, clawing at the fabric as his hand moves to rub circles on your clit. it’s so wrong, being here like this. you’re supposed to be setting up for the meeting in less than thirty minutes, you’re supposed to be ready to look your best as you take notes for your boss while he tries to land a business deal.

but instead, you’re pressed against the wall, fucking his son and caged against his body.

touya’s cock twitches as his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s close. the knot in your own stomach isn’t too far from bursting, and all you can manage to get out is a choked cry of his name, one that makes him growl into your neck.

“t-touya—” you whine, gasping when he slams into you impossibly harder, and he groans. “m-meeting is soon.”

“d-don’t care,” he rasps, breathless as he chokes on moans of his own, “th-they can take notes on us instead.” and if your mind wasn’t fogged as you approach your second high, you’d have told him off. but all you can do is cling onto him, his strong arms keeping you upright as he pounds into you. you’re so close, so near the edge, and touya’s determined to push you right off of it. and you should feel disgusted, you should feel ashamed that you enjoy hooking up with your boss’s son so much, right in his own building, but it only excites you even more.

“fuck touya,” you cry, and he pulls you into a heated kiss, gripping your hips tightly.

“c-c’mon,” he chokes against your lips. “cum for me doll.”

one more angled slam of his hips, and you fall apart in his arms, finishing with a cry of his name, hands fisting his shirt even tighter. you’ll surely leave wrinkles, but something tells you he won’t really care.

you squeeze around him as your walls spasm, your second orgasm crashing over you and sending touya into his, his cum spilling into you in thick spurts and painting your walls white. with a long, low groan, he shudders as he empties his load into you, sloppy thrusts working you both through your highs, the squeeze of your cunt around him milking him.

you both stay like that for a bit, bodies pressed against each other as you pant and catch your breaths. touya chuckles into your neck as he finally regains his composure.

“what’s so funny, asshole?” you scowl, shoving him lightly. he pulls away from your body, looking positively enthused.

“nothing, doll. just nice to know i’m so irresistible,” he wriggles his brow, dodging the weak smack you try to land on his chest. “careful, you don’t want to waste anymore energy, do you? still got your meeting,” he winks, giddy at the way you shoot him a glare from the teasing.

“i have to sit for an hour like this,” you grumble, motioning to the mess he’s left between your legs as he fixes up your appearance for you. grabbing your blazer from behind him, he slips the sleeves over your arms for you as you hold them out. he pulls your panties back up and smooths your skirt down neatly, giving your ass a firm squeeze in the process.

and you should honestly kill touya, but that definitely would get you fired.

“you’ll just sit there and look pretty while taking notes, what’s the big deal?” he croons, all too enthusiastic with the idea.

“do you want me to ban you from my office again?” you warn, and he holds his hands up in surrender, fighting back another chuckle.

“no, of course not. that was the worst week of my life.” buttoning the last button of your blazer, he leans and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, and despite being balls deep in you just moments ago, somehow, this feels even more intimate. “i’ll see you after your meeting, pretty.”

#thirstee!#thirsts.#teepods.writings #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya smut #dabi headcanons #touya headcanons #dabi x you #touya x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x you #mha x you #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda."

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Professionally Unprofessional (Sam Wilson x Reader)

Request: Samuel wilson x reader, reader is an interviewer who is on the ground when wilson speak with the senator, they had a huge fight before but wilson is like grab her and kissed her and then like "fuck this shit, cmon lets get married gurl" (by anonymous), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: You were everything but average. As a reporter, people expected you to be laid back, professional. You were all those things, you simply added a bit of spice into the mix to lend your interviews something special.

Words: 2,696

Warnings: language, humor, sarcasm, fluff (?), arguments, female pronouns used, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[Thanks @shmaptainhotchner for helping me out with this one! <3]

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were part of a local news station, usually the one doing interviews & all of that sorts. The viewers liked you so much because you did not ask typical, boring questions. Whenever you had someone in front of your microphone, you went out of you way to create something special that entertained the people. Much to your boss’ dismay. But then again, she would never fire you because your views would drastically sink if she did so.

Thanks to your job, you had interviewed most of the Avengers throughout the years. That was how you met Sam in the first place. You somehow made yourself appear mysterious enough for him wanting to get to know you better. Mainly because of your odd approach at asking questions. It made you stand out. It did not take all too long for you guys to start dating. Your personalities harmonized perfectly together & whenever you two were out, shit was about to go down.

“You working today?” Sam asked as he stripped on his new suit that Bucky gifted to him.

“If someone’s worth interviewing.” you shrugged mindlessly. “You know, someone with a metal arm for example.”

“Yeah?” he approached you. “What about Captain America?”

“Meh.” you answered absently, not even looking in his eyes. Simply to mess with him. “That guy’s too boring. Literally nobody wants to see him.”

“Is that so?” Sam came to a halt right in front of you. Just as he stretched out his arms in your direction did you spin around & distance yourself from him. “Hey!”

“What?” you turned to glance at him again, an innocent expression on your face. “Something the matter?”

“Baby.” he spoke in a warning tone & you had to hide your giggle. “What are you planning?”

“Damn, you’re really thinking the worst of me, huh?” one corner of your lips lifted slightly.

“I know you, (Y/N).” Sam shook his head. “You’re trouble when it comes to interviews.”

“Well, the trouble ensures for my income. Not everyone is an Avenger, alright?” you crossed your arms over your chest & pretended to be angry at him.

“Maybe you should ask your boss for a raise.” Sam pointed out.

“She’d fire me before she’d give me more money.” you laughed at the absurdity of it. Because honestly, you really believed every day could be the last at your current job.

“What if I end up ignoring you amongst all other reporters?” he was kidding, of course he was. Usually, it was the other way around. You were the only interviewer he ever paid attention to & therefore he knew about your quick changes in questions. No matter how much you had prepared, in the end you were always straying far from that.

“Then it would mean no money at all. Sam, come on. It’ll be fun.” you sent him a big enthusiastic smile.

“Come on, baby. Not this shit…” he sighed loudly. So you were planning on messing with him later today but you were not enlightening him. There was no way he could possibly prepare for the chaos you would put him thorough.

“Oh, so my creative, well thought-through profession is shit but you risking your life flying around like a fucking bird while throwing a metal frisbee isn’t?” you looked at him expectantly but no answer came. Sam simply approached you, leaned down & pressed a quick peck on your cheek. It brought a sweet smile to your face. While the playful banter & arguments between you two were pretty much a constant, you always made sure to say goodbye properly. Though, if you were honest, you already had some questions in mind that would bother the shit out of him. Oh, this would so turn out in your favor.

Being Captain America’s girlfriend was not necessarily easy. Especially when his life was at risk almost daily. And Sam did give you a scare or two (or maybe even a thousand) ever since the Flag Smashers had been doing their things. Of course you loved joking around & pretending that none of this truly faced you but if you were to be entirely honest, you probably were the one who worried the most. More than Sam & Bucky combined. You were not as successful as you hoped to be when it came to hiding your feelings. Luckily, your boyfriend read you like an open book & he never teased you about it. Not about something as significant as this. So, without actually addressing the topic, he cheered you up & eased your mind without you even realizing it in the first place.

You had been awaiting the phone call for a while now so when it finally sounded up, you felt relief washing through you. Not Sam was calling but your boss.

“(Y/L/N). Heading to the main event soon?” she asked without greeting you first. Simply getting straight to business. As you were used to from her.

“Yeah, sure. Just waited for your call. The team is already on its way I guess?” you inquired & already walked over to your closet to pick an appropriate outfit.

“They are…Can I trust you?” she hesitated & you rolled your eyes at her stupidity. You two were not the best of friends if that had not been clear yet.

“You can always trust me, boss. Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me.” you concluded & smirked when you heard her sigh on the other end.

“I wanted to sign Brock up for this one, actually.” she took a deep breath before she continued. “But we all know what the viewers wanna see & it ain’t your colleague.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior today.” you straightened your back though nobody could see.

“That’s what I’m afraid of…This is a big deal, (Y/L/N). We really need a good interview.” she informed you. Your boss was aware that every task you handled ended up being successful so you did not quite understand her worries.

“I’ll be there in 15.” was all you said before you ended the call & tossed your phone on your bed from across the room. It was frustrating to have your boss calling you with the same plea every time. By now she should perceive your take on interviews & the views spoke for themselves. You believed her biggest concern was you messing up big time. That big, in fact, that your news station would go bankrupt afterwards. But each time you finished talking to someone in front of the camera, your popularity only increased. Maybe you were not an average reporter but who cared for average in the 21st century? It was no secret that you were a master of your profession, collecting tons of people who envied you over the years & delivering accordingly when needed. Without you on their team, your station would have gone bankrupt. You were the only one keeping it alive & every member knew that.

You smoothed out the material of your pantsuit, checking if everything was ready for the live interview that would happen soon. The cameras were already working & your sound man fiddled with the microphone attached to your fabric one last time before he left you alone to do your job. When you first started here, your heartrate picked up its pace whenever you were about to interview someone. Nowadays, you simply relaxed, took a few deep breaths & went for it without too much overthinking. The fact that your boyfriend was on the other end of your microphone aided your calm demeanor as well.

Tons of people surrounded you & you scrunched up your nose at their attempts to stand in the front row. Your team had arrived pretty early so your cameras focused on the main area where the real deal would happen. Honestly, if it were not for you actively working as a reporter, you would have loathed that profession. Then again, you differed from the others. That kind of excused the ugly side of that job. Voices grew more frantic which meant that something was brewing. Your eyes flickered up & there he was. Your boyfriend. Captain America in all his glory. In his new suit that simply took your breath away. When you first caught a glimpse of it & even now.

Stupid & boring questions were fired at Sam’s way but he sidestepped them like a pro. The microphone in your hand was moved around from one side to the other. One thing you had learned in this job was to have patience. And to stand out because then, people tended to approach you more often than the rest. So you ordered your camera man to film Sam’s encounter with the Senator before you would interrupt. Your smirk was wide when you watched Captain America clapping back at the higher-ups who believed the entire world revolved around them. Seemed like he finished his speech because his back faced them & he made his way over to the swarm of reporters. But his eyes only trained on one. You.

“Captain America.” you nodded as you stretched out the microphone in his direction. He rolled his eyes at you trying to stay professional. The first words & you were already failing. “Mr. Wilson. Let’s keep it simple, shall we?” you corrected yourself.

“Sure thing.” he nodded, not once breaking eye contact with you.

“All of America is wondering about one thing.” you made a pause for dramatic effect. “Have you lost it?”

“What?” Sam was confused yet at the same time, he was used to the perplexity that came with you interviewing him. It was the same old.

“Your sanity.” you stated without batting an eye, appearing as serious as ever. He tilted his head backwards & could not hold his laughter in any longer. Success for you.

“Everything is as it should be.” he brushed you off but you were better prepared than this, of course.

“Yeah? Then explain this…Imagine your worried girlfriend sitting at home, simply waiting to receive the news of her boyfriend getting his ass kicked.” it was no secret to the world that you two were dating but you were not allowed to include that in your interviews. But when did you ever follow rules?

“Well, she can’t be that worried. Since she’s standin�� here & all.” he pointed out & you had to admit that he did have some good comebacks today. People would love the bickering between you two.

“We were lucky enough to watch your encounter with the Senator.” you quickly changed the topic in order to keep the conversation alive & interesting. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to give credit?”

“Credit for what?” he inquired with furrowed eyebrows. You had him again.

“Generally, when someone gets inspired or when they had help, for example with coming up with a speech that leaves everyone stunned, it is only fair to give credit.” you saw how deep he was in his thoughts to process what you had said but it seemed useless.

“Baby, you’re literally making no sense.” Sam shook his head, one of his hands raising to his face to brush over his chin. He just called you by your nickname during a live interview, the media would go crazy over that. It was the very first time because, again, you were not allowed to mix work & private stuff. You needed to figure out a reasonable excuse to tell your boss later on.

“While that speech was remarkable, it is everything but fair to skip the fact that your girlfriend was the one helping you create it in the first place.” only after your explanation did he understand what you were trying to say. But you were literally selling your viewers bullshit.

“Improvisation doesn’t need credit.” one of his eyebrows perked up as he chuckled.

“I agree with you on that, Mr. Wilson.” you contemplated his words, acting as if you were giving in. But you were not. “And we’re totally even if you give me credit for your speech there.” you then turned around so you were looking straight into the camera. “It was me who wrote little cards for him to memorize every day during breakfast. You’ve gotta know that I have the brains in this relationship so-“ Sam interrupted you, came up right next to you & nudged you with his elbow. It earned him a little grunt & an unhappy look from you.

“Who the hell watches this?” his question was directed at your team behind the camera who only shrugged in return.

“A lot of viewers expect quality content, Mr. Wilson. So if you could please occupy your previous position so I can finish this interview in peace, that would be very much appreciated. “ the camera angle changed once more as you shoved Sam back to his place. He let it happen but in the back of his mind, a plan had already started forming. Just as your mouth started opening, Sam snatched the microphone from your hand, ripping off the one that was connected to your pantsuit in one swift movement. You were too shocked to reply right away. Seemed like your team was experiencing similar emotions because nobody moved or said anything. When you were free, he grabbed your wrist & dragged you away from the scene. Your mouth opened & closed a couple of times yet no words were coming out. Hundreds of interviews & never had something like that occurred before. There was a first time for everything.

“The fuck?” was the first thing you breathed out after Sam pretty much shoved you into an alleyway.

“Yeah, likewise.” he laughed, his eyes holding the softness that were reassurance enough that nothing was wrong & that he was not mad at you. His lips pressed onto yours in a fiery & passionate kiss. One that caught you completely off guard. That was a…different reaction to you teasing him during an interview. A pleasant one at that.

“Should I ask?” you almost whispered after you two had to pull apart for air.

“Damn, let’s get married, baby.” he said it so casually, as if there was nothing special about it. Your bewilderment gave you away. You had discussed marriage before just not that straight forward.

“What, you got a ring?” your head tilted to the side & the look on his face was priceless. He did not expect your answer to be as bold as his suggestion. “I’m kidding, Sam.”

“We could go buy one.” he shrugged & made you laugh. Honestly, that was such a typical move of him.

“You wanna marry me even though I literally messed with you back there?” you questioned. Sam held out his hand for you to take & you intertwined your fingers with his. A gentle smile played at the corners of your lips.

“I didn’t expect anything else from you.” he commented after a short pause.

“You gotta admit, though…I was on fire today.” you nudged him & widened your sparkling eyes at the genuine smile he gave you.

“If on fire is another word for annoying, then hell yeah.” he sighed loudly, the sarcasm clearly detectable.

“I didn’t remember you to be this rude, Mr. Wilson.” you emphasized the last part & loved watching his body tense up. His grip tightened & his steps fastened.

“Come on.” he urged you on but you wanted to keep this game alive for a little while longer.

“Where are we going?” you glanced at him with innocent eyes.

“Home. We can buy your ring another time.” so you two made your way back to your shared apartment. Throughout the entire walk there, you fought the urge to bite your lip at your clever approach for this interview. If that was what you got out of it, then you were fine with being fired as well. Because, truthfully, you did not believe your boss would keep up with you any longer after today. But she did not fire you, no. The views were skyrocketing & she needed you to keep their station alive. You got your well-deserved raise, finally.

Published (05/13/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @zestyemby, @met4no1a, @missroro, @bibliophilewednesday, @msmarvelsmain, @weareironmanbitches, @patricexirene (thanks for your support <3)

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

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High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #nini salazar-roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #rini #seblos #redlyn #portwell #jnk

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jaysworlds · 3 years

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T4TMA Day Five - Community

“How’s it going, Miss. James?”

Sasha carefully avoids looking up, pretending to focus on her paperwork. “Something the matter, Mr. Stoker?”

Tim laughs, pushing the stack of papers (extra work from Jon; punishment for something that had been entirely Tim’s fault) to the side so he can sit down. “I was just thinking…”

“Funny that, me too.”

“Oh? Care to share?”

“Yes, actually. I was thinking that whatever you’re planning is a terrible idea.”

“I have great ideas.” Sasha finally looks up, fixing him with a glare that she hopes is suitably withering. “I’m still dealing with the fallout from your last ‘great idea.’”

“Alright, alright, I can admit that one was flawed.” He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly unbothered by her best glare. Maybe she should work on that.

Maybe she should work on making him fear her a little more, though she has a suspicion that any attempt would probably start a prank war, and she is not looking to get fired any time soon.

“But this new one is great!”

Sasha groans. “I don’t suppose you could just leave me alone? I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

“You haven’t forgiven me? Me, your best pal?”

“Yes. You.”

Tim sighs, dramatic and long-suffering. “What cruelty. Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

Sasha groans again, smacking her head into her paperwork. She can’t admit she’s interested, though her curiosity is going to be the death of her one day.

“Fine.”

“Perfect!”

“So? Hit me.”

“Archival pride trip!”

Sasha sits up, staring at him. “Are you actually serious?”

“Yeah! London Pride is in a couple of weeks, and it would be a great bonding experience, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re mad if you think Jon will agree to that.”

Tim flaps his hand around. “I see no reason why he wouldn’t. It’s a bonding experience!”

“You said.”

“God, you’re boring. Wouldn’t it be fun, though? Just you, me, Jon, and Martin. Maybe they’d even kiss!”

Sasha snorts. “Tim, you’re living in a fantasy world.”

“Maybe we’d kiss.” He waggles his eyebrows at her, and she can’t quite supress a smile.

“How about this,” she says, because she can’t deny she’d like to watch Tim get shot out of the sky by Jon telling him going to pride would be ‘unprofessional’ or something. “If Jon says yes to us going to pride then I’ll kiss you there, alright?”

Tim grins and throws his arms around her shoulders, nearly knocking them both onto the ground. “I knew you had it in you. I’m going to get that kiss, mark my words.”

Sasha laughs and shoves him off. “I don’t think so.”

Someone clears their throat from behind them and Sasha freezes. It’s Jon, she knows it’s Jon, and if he gives her more paperwork she is going to murder Timothy Stoker.

“Hey, boss!” Tim says, standing up and brushing himself down. Sasha turns around in her chair to watch.

“You’re not on a break, Tim,” Jon says, giving him a disapproving look. Theirs is even worse than Sasha’s, and unsurprisingly Tim does not cower. “Please stop harassing Sasha. I’m sure you both have enough work to be getting on with.”

“Sure,” Tim says, wandering over and slinging an arm around their shoulders. Sasha cringes a little, but surprisingly enough Jon doesn’t shove him off. Just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What is it?”

“I’ve had a wonderful idea for a group bonding exercise,” he says, steering Jon towards their office. “I’d love to talk to you about it.”

“You have five minutes,” Jon says, and then the door to his office bangs shut.

Sasha snorts. There’s no way in hell that Jon is going to agree to this.

“Hi, Sasha.”

“Hi, Martin,” Sasha says, leaning back against her desk and grinning at him. “You’re never going to guess what Tim’s trying to arrange.”

“Oh dear,” Martin says, brow furrowing. “Is it a prank war? I’m really not any good at pranks, you know. I would put salt in people’s tea, but that just seems really predictable, you know?”

Sasha laughs. “Oh, god no. I don’t think he’d announce that, just start … filling Jon’s office with plastic spiders or something. No, it’s not that.”

“Bar crawl?”

“Nope.”

“Some sort of competition?”

“Nope. I told you, you’ll never guess.”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“Archival pride trip.”

Martin laughs, almost nervously. “Jon’s never going to agree to that. Right?”

“I hope not. I’ll have to kiss Tim if he does.”

“Oh, really?” Martin frowns, getting a look in his eye that Sasha doesn’t completely like.

“Yes. What’s that look for?”

Martin gives her a little smile that she really doesn’t like. “Oh, nothing. Is Tim talking to them now?”

“Yes,” Sasha says, narrowing her eyes. “Martin Blackwood, what are you planning?”

“Nothing!” Martin says, and he’s such a bad liar. “I’m just going to, um, take Jon their cup of tea, alright?”

“Don’t encourage Tim,” Sasha says warningly, as Martin starts backing towards the office. “I mean it! You’ll make an enemy for life!”

Martin just laughs and disappears into Jon’s office.

God, why had she told him about her crush on Tim? He’s going to use that knowledge against her, she knows it.

She growls to herself and turns back to her paperwork. Might as well get something done, right?

“Sasha!” Tim announces, almost five minutes later, and she can tell by his tone of voice that he’s won. Somehow. “You’ll never guess what we, as an archive, are going to do next week.”

She groans and turns around slowly, not wanting to see the smug grin on his face. “Oh, I couldn’t guess. Please, enlighten me.”

“Our wonderful boss has decided that it will be a fantastic bonding experience if we all go to pride.”

Sasha shakes her head, turning to give Martin, just emerging from Jon’s office, her withering glare. Unlike Tim he actually shrinks a little, giving her a smile that might be apologetic, from a certain angle.

“Did you encourage him?” she growls, and Martin laughs nervously.

“I just suggested it, that’s all.”

“You are the worst,” she tells him. “I’m never trusting you again.”

Tim laughs, triumphant. “He’s my partner in crime!”

“He’s going to be your partner in suffering for this.”

“Oh, stop it. We all know you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

“The thought makes me feel violently ill.”

“Shame, because these lips are going to be on yours in two weeks’ time.”

Sasha turns to glare at Martin again, only to find that he’s already disappeared. Probably wise, really. Maybe she should instigate a prank war.

Tim actually brings flags into the archive over the next two weeks, and the worst part is that Jon actually lets him hang them up. She’s considering going into his office and demanding to know who’s stolen him and replaced him with a boss who actually lets Tim carry out his dumb ideas.

She has to admit it’s kind of nice, though, having the flags around. Tim has bought himself and Jon bi flags, Martin several little rainbow pins, and an enormous trans flag for all four of them that he’s somehow managed to tape to the ceiling. There’s even an ace flag on Jon’s door, and she’s considering letting him bring her a pan flag. Considering.

(She lets him, in the end. It’s not like she doesn’t have one at home, but it’s her home flag, and having one on her desk is nice, actually.)

She still doesn’t understand how he convinced Jon to let him do this, but she has a suspicion that he bribed them, though what with she isn’t sure. Maybe the flags are the bribe.

The morning of pride is … exciting, actually. Jon’s given them all the whole day off work (she thinks he must have bribed Elias. Maybe with whatever Tim bribed him with) and they’re planning to meet at Trafalgar Square. Maybe she goes a little overboard with getting dressed, but what’s the point of pride if you’re not going overboard?

Tim has gone even more overboard than she has, to be honest. He’s painted his whole face blue, purple and pink like he’s going to a gay football game, and he’s wearing a trans flag as a cape, complete with a he/him broach. It’s kind of cool, really. Not that she’d tell him that.

Martin has, predictably, gone pretty simple, just a few badges on his shirt (which reads ‘come to the gay side, we have rainbows.’ Sasha’s certain Tim bought it for him) and a little paper flag.

Jon, to her surprise, isn’t quite as straight-laced (ha) as they usually are. They’re wearing a skirt which wouldn’t meet the institute dress code and honest-to-god fishnet stockings.

“Looking good, boss!” Tim calls, when they arrive, and they give him a small, almost embarrassed smile.

“Thank you, Tim,” they say. “You too.”

Martin is, predictably, staring, and Sasha elbows him gently. As cross as she is that this is at least partially his fault she doesn’t want him to embarrass himself.

It’s a good day, actually. A really good day. Tim has brought a polaroid camera, and he insists on documenting everything. Martin has to keep the photos safe, as the only person who’s brought bag, but Tim doesn’t seem to mind.

“Right!” he says, after a few hours, and hands the camera off to Martin. “One of you owes me a kiss.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and walks over to him, perhaps a little more eagerly than normal. “I’ll try not to be sick.”

“Like you haven’t been looking forward to this for the past two weeks.”

“Talking to yourself?”

Tim laughs, pulling her closer. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And she does. He’s a good kisser, actually, and it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“See?” he says, when he pulls away. “That wasn’t so bad.”

She rolls her eyes and kisses him on the cheek. “There. That’s all you get.”

“What do I have to do to get a date as well?”

She huffs, glancing over at Martin. He grins and waves a fresh photo at her.

“I’ll think about it,” she says, finally. “Come on, let’s go.”

“That’s not a no,” Tim says, gleefully.

“Come on,” Jon says, rolling his eyes, though Sasha imagines it’s rather fond. “We can’t stand around here all day.”

“Coming, boss,” Tim says, and grins at Sasha.

And if she reaches out to link her fingers through his, then that’s nobody’s business but her own.

#t4tma #tma #timsasha #timothy stoker #sasha james #jon sims #martin blackwood #theyre ALL TRANS you cant change my mind #bi jon #bi tim #pan sasha #gay martin #i do love aro sasha but i wanted to write timsasha so shes pan now #under a cut because its long whoops #pride #the gang goes to pride #honestly this makes me happy i love it #i miss the season one gang

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bourbon-ontherocks · 3 years

Text

(Previously, on GG rewatch...)

Ooooh my God, this is officially the first occurrence of our national got-my-nose-pierced-after-my-gf-shot-me Emo Boi!!!

Damn, Lucy carried A LOT of tampons in her purse...

The Porcupine's logo is just... so cute

Annie's grand tour of all the shrinks in town is objectively hilarious. Extra points for the lady who believes Annie is some sort of Bruce Willis who talks to dead people!

Ah, my favourite Brio angsty scene!!! Rain! Darkness!! Mick!! The G-Wagon!! Emo Boi making a dramatic entrance!! Idiots staring at opposite directions! Angsty talk!! CHRISTINA'S PERFECTLY TIMED TEARDROP I DON'T KNOW HOW SHE DOES THAT!!! THE. SHOOTING. DISCUSSION. This show is starting to really look like a fanfiction and I’m loving it!

“THAT SHIP SAILED WHEN YOU PUT THREE SLUGS IN ME”!!! “THIS IS YOUR FAULT”!!! “YOU, ME, WE, IT'S JUST BUSINESS”!!!!

Also, “you, me, we, it’s just business” doesn’t sound like a logical response to “this is your fault”... But what do I know? Maybe I’ll try that the next time someone’s mad at me for something...

I really like that it's Ruby who suggests they dig Lucy's face out. Feels a bit ooc though, after all her speeches about burial decency for Boomer in season 2

MICK X BRONCO SAUCE IS SUCH A FAVE MOMENT!!!!!!

I wonder who actually did the chopping of Lucy's body, though...

Okay, Mick is clearly and PURPOSEFULLY messing with Beth and letting her think he's hitting on her. Nobody licks Bronco sauce out of their fingers like this.

“YOUR HUSBAND WON'T LIKE IT”!!! “I HAVE HERPES”!!! BEST LINES DELIVERIES EVER!!!!

Clearly none of the writers of this show has children, otherwise they'd know that they WAIT for the parent to be gone before turning the phone on under the duvet...

The choose-your-spa scene is absolutely surreal. Mick's contented "wooo!" and fingers tapping at the end always cracks me up

So, killing Lucy resulted in chopping off her body and burying the parts in some place that's two hours drive away. That's a lot of work for someone who just wanted to prove a point. Rio is a dramatic Bitch.

"You should have seen his facec. He really wants a hot-tub."

Beth can't use emojis THIS IS CANON!! Also I really like the whole conversation about break-up texts.

I love that Ruby is calling Max a child, haha!

I hope for the sake of Retta's bladder that they got that scene right on the first take... Also I love her speech about Stan, feels very reminiscent of season 1's "I'm that bitch."

"If there's nothing else, I have nails to paint" that's my badass Ruby!

I love the awkwardness of Beth's "why don't you sit?" implying "let's move this to the living room," and Max just sitting right where he is.

Max: "Have you ever been dumped?" Beth, browsing through all the times Rio said/implied she was only work: "Um, you know, I married my first boyfriend so not really, no..."

In what universe, when you put something in the mail, is it already at the other side of the country within two hours??? In the real world, Max would have located Lucy in the nearest post office and that would have been it...

Tim really is the chillest kid in the world...

Well, I mean for once Josh has the right reaction in not wanting to take Annie back as a patient... Too bad this man's completely undecise and unprofessional.

Wait, does Max think Lucy left with Au-Jus since he didn't ask ANYTHING about the bird's disappearance?

Oh, cool, here comes the ink bullshit to cover Beth's theft... SOMEONE's gonna have their furniture taken very soon... Seriously, she IS like a newborn, leave her for five minutes and she'll make another mess...

Rio squinting at the pseudo-invoice is the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life!!! Someone buys the poor boy glasses immediately!

“How's the boyfriend?” “He got over it.” “THEY ALWAYS DO”!!!! Gosh, the pettiness of this is off the charts!!!

Bonus: Beth’s ottoman, a Saga

#gg rewatch #frere jacques #so for once I would have excused a French song in this episode given the title and context and they just... didn't???#what is wrong with this show??#aside from that I really enjoyed this ep #love me an angsty mumbling talk in the dark haha

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ive-been-reminding-you · 4 years

Text

OoC: The Big, Long Post of Where the Hell I’ve Been

Before I begin, I want to apologize for just disappearing. I’ve had some contact with a couple of people here and there within these past months, but not as much as typical when I’m active.

This post is to just tell you all where I’ve been and what’s been going on with me. I’ve told a couple of people a couple of things here and there, but I never really got too deep into it.

I’m going to keep most of this under a Keep Reading for a couple of reasons. The first reason is because, as the title suggests, this is going to be really long. The second is because of some of the really heavy things I’m going to be talking about, and I think it’s best if you read at your own discretion rather than have me splash this across your dashboards without any warning. So, please, see the tags before reading.

OK. Here we go...

Back in March, I got sick. I have no idea what I had, but I just know that I was sick and that it lingered for a considerable length of time.

I had had four or five shifts in a row, and I had one more to go before I was to have a couple of days off. The morning of that last shift, I woke up with a scratchy throat. I didn’t really think much of it because I typically feel like I’m sick when I first wake up (one of the problems that comes with my insomnia). However, a couple of hours later, as I was getting ready to head into work, I still had the scratchy throat. In addition, I had begun to have a really intense headache.

That’s when I got a group text from my boss telling us to stay home if we had a cough or sore throat. I sent him a direct text and told him what was going on and we agreed it would be best for me to stay home.

The scratchy throat, which later evolved to include a cough, lasted for nearly two months. The headache also lasted that long. And when I say that, I mean that every single day for two months, I had a bad headache that never went away and only fluctuated slightly in how severe it was for that day.

Neither my boss, nor the other managers, were taking me seriously. That first week I was home, I was trying to rest and every single day, I was getting texts with questions like, “Hey, you’ll be in for your next shift, right?” or, “Why don’t you just go get tested? Easiest thing in the world!”

No matter how many times I explained my situation — medical professionals told me not to come in for a test because supplies were scarce and they were only testing people with emergency symptoms. In addition, I was told, “If you come here and you have the virus, you’ll be putting other people at risk. If you don’t have it, and you come here, you risk exposing yourself to it. You just need to stay home and monitor your symptoms until they either get severe or until your cough and sore throat go away.” Also, mind you, I use public transportation, which people were especially advised not to use if you were feeling sick to keep the virus from spreading, so... How exactly did they want me to get to a testing facility? — they always acted like I just didn’t want to get tested. My friend that helped get me the job kept sending me articles about new testing sites and kept arguing with me about it. He also kept telling me that I should get tested so that I could be cleared to come back to work if I didn’t have it. At this point, I was feeling like a broken record, and I had told him loads of times that even if I didn’t have the virus, I still felt like shit and there was no way I’d be able to stand all day, anyway.

Finally, after weeks of this back-and-forth, my boss told me to contact HR. They put me on a retroactive leave of absence. However, it still has not been approved and it will most likely get denied, which means that I will not be paid for the time I was out of work. And I only just went back to work two weeks ago.

In addition to being out so long, my hours have been severely cut. I worked two days the first week I was back. Then this past week, I had no hours at all. This week, I only work four hours on Saturday. It’s hard for me not to feel like this is intentional, considering the fact that I wasn’t taken seriously the whole time I was sick and they were acting like I was just being dramatic or needlessly cautious (also, apparently I work with a bunch of medical experts because even when I was telling them information I got from the CDC, they were still telling me that that wasn’t right 🙄). My first day back, one of the managers asked me how I was doing, and asked me what I had been feeling. When I mentioned the severe headache that wouldn’t go away, he chuckled and went, “That’s not even a symptom of the virus!” And he very clearly didn’t believe me when I explained to him that it is, in fact, a symptom that many people who were confirmed to have had it had reported. Just because it’s not one of the more common symptoms doesn’t mean it’s not a symptom.

I am now drowning in debt from being out of work so long, in addition to not receiving any hours. Our rent was still being collected this whole time, and I had to pay April and May’s rent together in one go because I was still quarantined in April and couldn’t make it to my bank. This almost completely wiped out my funds. My gas company isn’t charging late fees, but they have still been charging regularly every month and I don’t even know how much I owe them at this point because I can’t pay it, anyway, so I stopped looking. Last I checked, it was over $300. I’m assuming that it’s closer to $600 now. My internet is going to most likely be shut off at the end of the month. There have been days where I was afraid to go buy groceries because of how low my funds are. I have had to accept help from many people, a couple of them were almost complete strangers who came out of nowhere and helped me out significantly.

The stress is getting to me terribly. I have spent so many days these past months living in a fog where nothing feels real anymore. I think I’m shedding hair more than usual, and every time I wash my hair, there are clumps left in the shower. My insomnia is magnified, and now with the heat of it being summer, that’s just going to get worse because my room gets substantially hot. And because of my financial situation, I’m trying to run the air conditioner as little as possible and only run my fans. My appetite has been affected and I often just eat once a day with maybe a little snack here or there.

Things got so bad for me psychologically that I reached out to my Employee Help Line, provided to people who work for the company I work for. I tend not to call numbers like that because of bad experiences in the past, but I needed to talk to someone. There was back and forth between myself and several counselors for two or three weeks, and they tried to get me an appointment with a therapist over the phone.

The Employee Help Line counselors were all wonderful people. The therapists I tried to schedule appointments with? Not so much. The first one canceled on me by email just an hour before my session was supposed to begin. The second one also canceled on me by email the night before my session.

The third one was a truly mystifying experience. So much so that she gets her own paragraph. Not only did our session only last about thirty minutes (instead of the forty-five to fifty minutes that it should have been), but she gave me such advice as, “Just don’t worry so much.” And her entire tone made me feel like I couldn’t speak to her because I felt the need to justify everything I was feeling or explain myself. Then it took an even more bizarre turn when I Googled her to see her hours of operation (I felt so uncomfortable with her that I wanted to call and leave a message to cancel our next appointment instead of talking to her directly) and found a website, full of evidence, that she was an animal abuser and that she had been investigated for insurance fraud for charging patients for sessions that never happened or double-billing them. I also found a website of reviews and there were so many that talked about how unprofessional she was (smoking in a closed office during sessions, inviting patients to stay the night at her place, charging someone for two months worth of sessions that never took place because they canceled after just seeing her once). And she told me she was mailing me paperwork which I haven’t received yet that I need to fill out and mail back (with what postage, I wonder, since I can’t afford to buy a book of stamps?) instead of letting me do that electronically.

After that whole experience with those three therapists, I decided to stop trying to get into therapy for now. And, for the record, this is exactly why I’m afraid to go back to therapy because my bad experiences far outweigh the good ones. In this time, too, the Employee Help Line people had been trying to find solutions to my funding problem. Absolutely none of what they found was good for me. I either didn’t qualify, or they weren’t accepting new applicants, or some other thing kept me from being able to use whichever service.

And there’s one more thing... I’ve been alone this entire time. My brother, whom I live with, went to visit a friend of his before things got bad. He was only supposed to be gone for the weekend, but then I got sick the day before he was going to come back home. And then his friend’s state went into lockdown before I started to feel any better. So he has been stuck there, and I’ve been living alone and dealing with all of this alone this whole time. Don’t get me wrong, I have friends who are checking in on me and who are trying to help me however they can — and my brother and I have been in contact as much as possible — but it’s not the same as having someone physically present. I’m the very definition of an introvert, so it doesn’t usually bother me, but there have been times where I greatly needed someone physically here for me and nobody was able.

And that’s why I’ve been gone for so long. I’ve probably even forgotten some stuff, or just haven’t added stuff (like how I have to hand wash all my laundry now because I don’t have a washer or dryer and it isn’t safe to use the laundromat anymore for the time being) because everything has been a tremendous mess and this is already a monster of a post. I’m still not 100% sure when I’ll be back, but I’m definitely coming back. Until then, I’m going to try to be around more often for DMs at least. I love you all and I hope you’re all OK. ⚔️ Spike ⚔️

P.S. If you’ve read to the end of this, thank you for doing so lol. You have a much greater attention span than I do xD. P.P.S. I posted this and then took it down for a second because I realized that I forgot to add tags and this post really, really needs to have tags.

#mun ooc #tw: long post #tw: mental illness #tw: depression #tw: depersonalization #tw: insomnia #tw: covid 19 #tw: coronavirus #tw: debt #tw: financial burdens #tw: mention of animal abuse (without detail)#tw: therapy #tw: bad experience with therapy #tw: isolation #tw: quarantine #tw: illness #tw: heavy subject matter

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7-wonders · 5 years

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Lost In the Shadows

Summary: As a naturally curious person, the odd mannerisms of your elusive new boss pique your interest, making you determined to figure out who, or what, he is.

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s a vampire Michael fic! I really hope you guys enjoy; feedback is always appreciated, and if you loved this I would love if you’d give it a like, comment, and reblog. Enjoy!

There’s something strange about your new boss.

Being one of the longest-tenured employees at Kineros Robotics, having worked in the R & D department for a whopping three months, you were initially relieved when Ms. Venable had told you about the sudden arrival of a new owner. You loved your work, and could think of no better job than getting to conduct experiments on new technologies to help paraplegics and researching artificial neuron studies, but the two men that hired you made it really hard to not think about quitting at least three times a day. Jeff and Mutt, the two coked-out oddballs who somehow managed to co-found a Fortune 500 company, had annoyed or harassed nearly every employee of theirs to the point of quitting within their first three months of work. You’re an anomaly, and if the pay and benefits weren’t so good, as well as the research opportunities, you would have long been out the door with the same people that you were hired with.

The announcement of a new owner was initially a welcome change to the company’s personnel. Maybe this owner would be able to put Jeff and Mutt into their places, and make them realize how to conduct themselves as the founders of such a prestigious company. Hell, maybe the new owner would even allocate some new funds to your R & D department so that you can finally purchase the new, state-of-the art projector that would allow you to create lifesize, 3-D, virtual models of your various research projects that you’ve had your eye on for a month now. Even Ms. Venable, the always stoic secretary whose only emotions seem to be apathy or disdain, manages to crack a small smile when she tells you the news. The long-gossiped about arrival of a new boss seems to be just the thing that will help boost employee morale and allow you to actually get some work done instead of having Jeff and Mutt pester you to see if you can build them a realistic sex robot (a request that you’ve denied multiple times).

Things seem like they’ll be great, and for the most part, they are. Jeff and Mutt hardly cause distractions for you now, and they approve almost any budget request you put on their desks. However, the constant look of fear that caused their eyes to dilate and widen, combined with the welcome lack of cocaine in the building, had you questioning what has gotten into the pair. Employee retention has never been higher, but so many of the newer employees walk around in a dazed stupor, only answering you if you snap your fingers in front of their faces or repeat their names. The common factor in all of this is, of course, your boss; the only question is, who the hell is your boss?

For such a dramatic change in the productivity of Kineros, you’re expecting a much larger authoritative presence than what you’ve seen. Indeed, this new boss is extremely elusive and never in the office. What’s striking to you is that there was never any official memo. No note, no email, not even Ms. Venable was able to gossip about who this boss was, simply for the fact that she couldn’t find out any information. Luckily, you’ve managed to become acquaintances with many of your coworkers, something the purple-clad secretary has never been able to accomplish. The details, while scarce, are enough to form a vague image in your head.

According to the dazed employees whom you now work alongside, the boss is a man called Langdon. No word on whether it’s his first or last name, because apparently he’s so intimidating that any question a person may have flees their mind at the sight of him. In fact, people forget most aspects of their encounters with Langdon, thanks to two possible reasons. The first is, of course, that he’s just so damn frightening that everyone’s brains develop some sort of short-term memory amnesia in an attempt to forget about what they just saw. The second which, from general consensus seems to be the more plausible, is that his beauty is so blinding that it’s impossible to remember what the conversation was about when one is staring at “those cheekbones!” Kineros has always seemed to have shallow assumptions and vapid materialism woven into its very core, so it’s not too surprising to hear that everyone is so dazed because they’ve got the hots for Langdon.

Langdon, it would seem, is the only topic that employees know how to talk about lately. Frankly, you’re sick of it. You don’t really care who the boss is, what he looks like, or where he is that’s so much more important than the business he now runs, so long as the company’s running and your paychecks are being deposited into your bank account on a regular basis. If he really wanted to make sure that Kineros was running smoothly, he would show his face around the office more in order to quell the rumors and prevent you from having to stop disoriented coworkers from applying two sources of the same charge and nearly blowing up the labs for the third time in a week.

It’s late on a Friday, which means that nobody, save the janitor and security guards, is in the building. While everyone else employed here bolted for the doors the second the clock hit five, you were just getting started with your more-important research. You like working when it’s blissfully quiet and you can move around while you think, pacing back and forth as you run over calculations or decide which millimeter difference would help your machine to work more efficiently. Lately, you’ve often found yourself in the labs until the security team has to ask you to leave so that they can finish their rounds. With all of the commotion over Langdon’s appointment, it’s been difficult to get much work done during a traditional work day.

You’re sitting at your desk, random pieces of paper cluttering the workspace around you as you attempt to work out the schematics for a new prosthetic hand you’re designing that would be controlled by a patient’s brain, when the sound of shoes clicking across the shiny floor has your pencil stopping in its tracks. It’s a foreign noise, especially at this time of the evening; both the custodial and security staff wear heavy boots, the footsteps of which you could recognize from a floor away. These are different--lighter, yet confident. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before the door to the lab opens, and you tense before taking a precautionary sip of tea and slowly turning around.

The tea was a bad decision, causing you to nearly choke as you lock eyes with your unexpected visitor. You’re sure that you’ve never met before; surely you would remember someone as ethereal as this man? His face looks like it was crafted by the most renowned Renaissance sculptors themselves, all sharp angles and delicate features. His blonde hair flows to just past his shoulders, and his cold blue eyes (accented with a dark red eye shadow that’s perfectly applied to the inner corners) watch you with an intensity that makes you shiver. He’s dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the white decor of Kineros. A silk scarf hangs loosely around his neck, ornate rings decorating his slender fingers. Your eyes linger on the metallic talon ring that sits on his index finger, which looks sharp enough to easily slice through anyone or anything.

Although his delicate features give him the look of an angel, there’s something much darker that clouds his face like a summer storm. You’ve never felt as intimidated by someone’s mere presence as you do in front of this man, and you realize that this can only be the mysterious Langdon. He smirks as he watches you scramble out of your chair, amused at your clumsy reaction to his sudden appearance. You feel intensely scrutinized as he looks you up and down, his lip curling as you nervously tap your fingers against your leg.

“It’s--uh, nice to finally meet you, Mr. Langdon,” you stutter, mentally smacking yourself for how unprofessional you look and sound. You weren’t exactly expecting visitors tonight, hence the messy bun you pulled your hair into and your bare feet, heels having been kicked off as soon as your coworkers left.

Langdon takes calculated steps towards you, stalking closer until your heart is thumping wildly at the abrupt proximity. You don’t know it, but the scent of your blood as it rushes just under the surface of your delicate skin has his eyes imperceptibly fluttering in near-ecstasy. He’s been around for a long, long time, and tasted some of the finest blood that the world has had to offer, but it’s extremely rare for someone’s essence to sing its siren song to him in the way that yours does.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he drawls, voice lilting and higher-pitched than you would have expected. It’s tantalizing, sweet, and teasing, everything that you would expect from this man. “A pity I have not been able to visit here sooner, but I have had...other matters to attend to, as of late.”

You find your head bobbing up and down at his excuses, realizing that you would quickly do anything that this man asked of you if it meant you got to hear him say your name again. The sound of your phone chiming, an alarm you had set to remind yourself to get up from your desk and get something to eat if you still hadn’t left the office (at least nobody could ever say that you underperformed at your job), snaps you out of the daze that Langdon’s presence had put you in. You narrow your eyes, refusing to let this man charm you into submission like everybody else at this company.

“What, did you buy another company just so you could arouse some more suspicion as the mysterious, elusive commander-in-chief?” Your breath catches in your throat, the words escaping before you can even think otherwise.

Langdon stares at you for a long moment, and you’re already bracing to pack up your belongings and leave before security has to drag you out of the building. Then, something unexpected happens. A slow smile spreads across his face, one that shows off his (oddly sharp-looking) teeth.

“Witty and a genius, then.”

“Hardly, but thank you, Mr. Langdon.”

“It’s Michael,” he divulges, and you get a warm feeling in your chest that only a select few are privy to this information.

Langdon--no, Michael, you remind yourself--glances over your shoulder at the rough sketches of your next projects that clutter your desk.

“Artificial neural pathways? That sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“It will be, but it’s an endeavor I’m excited to take on. We’ve only used artificial neural pathways in order to enhance computers, but why not use them to help people? They’re made to mimic human functions; if I can figure out a way to target specific areas of the brain and make them small enough for successful implantations, there’s no telling what we could accomplish. Think of all of the traumatic brain injuries that would be healed with these! We could, potentially, eradicate diseases like Alzhiemer’s and dementia.”

Michael, for whom empathy is not an emotion commonly felt, finds himself listening intently as you explain your ideas. Your face lights up as you talk about this passion of yours, making his chest clench almost painfully. He didn’t come here tonight to ‘meet’ some of the people under the Cooperative’s hierarchy, he came here to feed. The entire damn reason for showing up suddenly at Jeff and Mutt’s thirtieth-story office was to collect part of their payment that comes along with selling their souls, like allowing Michael to take over the company, further his plans for the end of days, and have free reign of a hunting ground that was teeming with blood of all different types and tastes.

There’s multiple reasons why Michael doesn’t allow himself to get attached to humans. For starters, their lives are all too short compared to his, and all too irrelevant. How can they expect to make any sort of a meaningful mark on their dull world when they have, at most, a few decades to live? Pathetic creatures, Michael’s always thought whenever he watches them; a predator stalking his prey. They’re so easy to fool, to charm and glamour until they’re basically baring their necks to him, begging him to feed from them. Humans are pliable, minds easily molded by any force stronger than a slight breeze.

You were meant to be nothing more than Michael’s next meal. The beginning of his hunt was so routine, it was almost comical how easy it was to waltz into your lab and work you into a daze. Your damn phone alarm had ruined it all, had snapped the spell that he had put you under and allowed you to face him head-on. As soon as your little backhanded insult reached his ears, he knew that he couldn’t go through with it. His kind is, unfortunately, prone to enhanced feelings. In addition to their physical abilities becoming heightened with the transformation, their emotions are as well. It’s one of their very few weaknesses, and one that may have just saved you from your death.

If it were any other day, any other person, any other occasion, intense rage would course through Michael’s body and the victim would be dead before they could even blink. Today, though, he’s slow to anger. Whether that be because he had just fed three days ago or because he’s actually enjoying this hunt, your remark catches him off guard. You have a fire within you that Michael hasn’t seen for some time. Even if he doesn’t cloud the mind of a human, they’re usually so taken by his beauty that they couldn’t even think to say anything remotely disparaging. He admires it, that fight, and it’s enough of a hesitation for that admiration to make him doubt his choice for today’s meal. After you explain how you plan to develop neurons that would save a person’s brain from the slow decline of disease, Michael knows that he can’t kill you.

Michael could, of course, still feed from you without killing you. Although it looks like the obvious option from an outsider’s perspective, it’s only feasible when the source is a willing party in this dark tango. He’s had a few of those partners in previous decades, but has been without one for the last twenty or so years. When hunting, like Michael is, there are only two options for what to do with one’s prey (after all, consuming a human in their entirety was lethal, the dead blood dragging his kind to their own deaths). Either the victim’s supply is drained for macabre leftovers, or they’re compelled to forget the entire experience.

Small-scale compulsions have no lasting effect on the compulsee, but forcing a person’s mind to forget hours upon hours of prior events leaves them in what’s basically a trance. They become sleep-walkers, only this is a dream they can’t wake up from. With their glazed eyes and one sentence answers to any questions that may be asked of them, they’re temporarily shells of their former selves as their minds try to comprehend and make sense of the sudden gap in memories. Michael can’t do that to you, can’t watch your brilliant mind be muddled just so that he can get a quick meal. Hell, he would just kill you, but something in him balks at the mere idea of such an act.

You stifle a gasp when Michael’s suddenly inches away from you, hand ghosting across your cheek and talon ring dangerously close to nicking your skin. His cyan eyes burn into you, as if he’s sifting through the deepest crevices of your soul. He smiles again, but this time it’s softer, like he knows something that you don’t.

“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be here this late at night. Go home, (Y/N),” Michael whispers, head tilting while he watches every minor movement that your muscles make. Your brow furrows at his abrupt instructions and you tense, not willing to let this near-stranger tell you what to do.

“But I’m not done yet, and why should I even--”

“(Y/N),” Michael almost coos, eyes searching yours as he gets your attention and pins you to your place. You want to move and escape his grasp before berating him for his actions, but you can’t seem to even blink, much less look away from his gaze. “Go home.”

His words carry a different power this time around, and you start to gather your coat and bags as soon as he lets go of you.

For tonight, Michael will reduce himself to hunting on the streets, finding some vagrant to satiate his needs. He won’t kill you, not until he figures out how you managed to unknowingly find a weakness of his and exploit it to avoid your death. For now, though, Michael releases you from the building and watches you until the door closes behind you, making sure your stubborn mind actually heeds his compulsion. Even when you’re out into the cool night, you can still feel the piercing gaze of Michael’s chilling eyes on your back, closely watching your every move.

There’s definitely something strange about your new boss.

////////////////////////

For the next two weeks, you’re constantly on edge at work as you try to keep an eye out for Michael. You’ve attempted to figure out how he got you to leave so suddenly on that night, tried to find some logical explanation for the strangeness of that evening, but you just can’t. You’re a woman of science, one who finds solace in facts and figures. All of the collected data in the world couldn’t explain the enigma that is Michael Langdon.

The computer has become both your best friend and your worst enemy as of late. You’ve searched almost nonstop for some sort of an explanation, with nothing to show for it except for a few Reddit /nosleep boards with their made-up horror stories. It’s useless, you’re starting to feel, and you’ve spent far too many hours perusing the internet instead of focusing on your work. A direct consequence of this action, you’ve stayed late at work nearly every night that you’ve found your mind wandering. What had originally seemed to be a self-inflicted punishment, however, is starting to feel like a piece of a much larger puzzle.

Michael starts to become a familiar face around Kineros on the evenings that you’re working late. While he may just be an extremely productive night owl, it’s still a little odd that he’s only ever around during the later hours of the night. When you had asked Jeff and Mutt about it after your first encounter with Michael, they had both stuttered aggressively before unconvincingly telling you that “he makes his own hours.” You weren’t buying it at all, and their behavior towards the matter only made you more suspicious. Why did you only ever see this man in the late hours of the night?

The odd work habits were the main red flag, but others just kept popping up as soon as you realized that things were not quite right. You couldn’t help but notice that every person who shared the same dazed demeanor you had seen on countless others since the change in personnel had one other thing in common: they had all come in contact with Michael. You’d be working late, see one of your coworkers in the kitchen while you were both grabbing another cup of coffee, see Michael on your way back to the lab, and the next day that coworker would be walking around like a zombie. You’ve tried to convince yourself that there’s no correlation between the two situations, but the only other option would be some sort of poisoning that happens after-hours. Obviously that’s impossible, considering you haven’t been affected like the other employees have.

It’s childish and fanciful, the theory that’s placed itself in the forefront of your mind. However, what other conclusion could you come to that would explain the strange and unusual things that you’ve seen and experienced lately? Michael, this young, ethereal man who was able to have you completely under his spell with just the utterance of your name, managed to take control of a Fortune 500 company in a day. The odd mannerisms that others around you have displayed only began when Michael showed up here, not to mention the ever-present glass of what looked to be red wine nestled snugly between his fingers. You only ever see him at night, and he appears so suddenly and quietly that it’s as if he’s a ghost. Everything about him seems like a rose dipped in poison: beautiful, but deadly.

You’ve seen Michael helpfully calibrate your neutron spectrometer with simply a glance at the machine and some skilled handiwork. Even a professional repairman, with their specialty tools, would have required at least a week to get it to working condition. He even lifted the 300-pound piece of equipment like it was the weight of a newborn kitten, briefly making you think that it wasn’t nearly as heavy as you thought it was. That was quickly disproven when you tried to lift it after he left and couldn’t even move a corner of it.

You’re not some 15-year-old child anymore, which is what will make this conclusion so humiliating if it actually is wrong. You know what the realm of possibility is, and that even most things that belong outside that realm are still rooted in logic. That you would believe yourself to be the protagonist of some teen supernatural novel is almost ludicrous. You’ve eliminated all other possibilities, but Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself once said that “once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” With all that you’ve seen, and all that you know, there can only be possible truth.

Michael Langdon is a vampire.

It’s not a conclusion that you’re proud of, but it’s the one that you’ve got. Nevertheless, the plan that you’ve formulated will either make or break you, and your career. You know that you’re the only Kineros employee in the building tonight, since Jeff’s ‘birthday’ (third one this year) warrants a massive party at his house that all employees are invited to attend. Most of your coworkers won’t turn down the opportunity to indulge in some of the finest drugs that the West Coast has to offer, and you’ve asked around enough to discern that you’ll be the only one here tonight. Since it’s a Thursday, Michael should, if what you believe is correct, be stalking the halls tonight in search of his next meal. Theoretically, predator will become prey.

You’re sitting at your desk, legs propped up on the table while you twirl a scalpel between your fingers. Although you could have already set your plan into motion, you’re hesitant. What if it doesn’t work? What if you just turn out to be some fool with your head in the clouds, making yourself bleed for no reason? Worse, what if it does work and you end up getting yourself killed? It’s now or never, you decide, and with a deep breath you dig the tip of the scalpel into the pad of your finger.

Michael’s head snaps up the moment that he smells the blood being spilled from four floors below. It’s impossible for his head to not be clouded with your scent whenever he’s in this building, the rich aroma so intense that he can practically taste it on his tongue. Now that your skin has been cut, you’re all that he can think about. He’s been desperate to control himself, has sensed your ever growing suspicion since your first encounter two weeks ago. He can’t let himself slip up, not after he’s been so careful for so long. The injury that you’ve sustained, however minor it may be, changes everything.

The door is flung open with such force that it rattles the hinges, your head snapping up at the disturbance. It’s been maybe 30 seconds since blood started beading at the tip of your finger, and it’s such a small amount that you’ve been preparing to injure another part of your body that will produce more blood. Michael stands mere feet away from you, looking positively ravenous. His chest is heaving as he takes deep breaths, and his eyes are locked onto your finger.

“I knew it,” you mutter in disbelief, brandishing the scalpel in front of you as a pathetic weapon. Dark veins have appeared like cracks under Michael’s eyes, which are now a startling shade of red and black. It’s obvious that he can sense your fear, can hear your heart beating wildly in your chest, when he smirks and shows off his pointy fangs.

“It was only a matter of time before you figured it out, hmm?” Michael teases, voice sounding even more exquisite than it normally is. “You’re not like the other employees here, oh no. You’re smart, and self-aware. You’re able to believe in things that seem to be outside of the realm of possibility, no matter how insane it may seem.”

“Stay back,” you warn when Michael starts to take a few steps closer, still staring at the blood that has welled on your finger.

“You think that little knife of yours could stop me?”

A loud gasp is the only noise you can produce when Michael is gripping your wrist in less than the blink of an eye. He forces the scalpel out of your hand, and it falls to the ground with a clatter. You can only watch as his tongue wraps around your injured finger, sucking and licking the blood and prodding the wound to produce more. Your knees grow weak as you watch the shockingly erotic scene play out in front of you, Michael moaning around your finger. He only pulls off when the blood flow stops, your cut clotting quicker than Michael can agitate the wound.

“I taste good to you?” You ask, watching him intensely as you snatch your hand back from him.

Michael licks his bottom lip, where some of your blood has pooled, before smiling ferally and nodding. “Absolutely divine, pet.”

Anger flares at the pet name, but that’s really the least of your concerns right now considering a fucking vampire is ready to devour you.

“You want more?” Michael nods enthusiastically. “Then you’re gonna have to sit down and answer my questions.”

“And what makes you think I won’t just drain you right now?” Michael drawls, quirking an eyebrow at your demands.

“You won’t,” you say confidently. “If you didn’t kill me that first night you showed up in my lab, there’s no way you’ll kill me now.”

Michael locks eyes with you for a long moment, a shiver wracking down your spine as you stare into those dark red eyes. You honestly don’t know if he actually would kill you, and you’re praying that you guessed right. Finally he nods, sitting in the seat that you occupied mere minutes ago. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, hopping onto the desk to give yourself some illusion of dominance in this situation. He’s annoyed that you’ve flipped the tables on him, but that annoyance turns to rapture when you dig the scalpel into the fleshy part of your palm just enough to bring a drop of blood to the surface.

“Answer my questions, and I’ll cut enough to let you drink. Deal?” You wince at the pain of the blade piercing your skin, but push it to the side as you wait for Michael to make his decision.

“Yes, fine! We have a deal.” You remove the blade from your hand and wipe the blood against a cloth, making Michael groan at the waste.

“Oh hush, you haven’t even answered my questions yet.”

“Just what would you like to know?”

“First: how are you a vampire?” Michael leans forward in his seat, teeth glinting as the light hits them.

“Ah, but I am so much more than just a vampire.”

Michael then proceeds to tell you the Sparknotes version of his story, which spans almost 400 years. How his father, the fucking Devil, created him with the goal of ushering in a new era for Hell to reign on Earth. The idea was that an immortal Michael would be able to live among humans and constantly change and observe, like a chameleon, collecting information and discerning when the right time to end the world as it is known would be. Unfortunately, immortality comes at a price. In order to live forever, with enhanced abilities and as young as he is now, Michael must feed from the blood of humans in order to retain his youth. One life benefiting another, although you don’t really see how senseless killings would benefit anybody but the killer.

“If you can’t survive without the blood of humans, then why are you so obsessed with ending the world?” You ask finally when Michael’s finished telling you his history.

“It’s not so much ‘ending the world’ as it is weeding out those who are not fit for survival. Only the strongest shall survive, and the strongest will be given the honor to serve Satan and his creatures.”

“Cultivating your food source, then?” You snort at the sheer ridiculousness of his plan.

“We won’t have to kill when everyone is willing to offer themselves. Think of it as a blood drive. Only a couple of pints every few weeks, which is what they would sacrifice to remain alive and in good health.”

“Why do you believe you’re so much better than everyone else?”

“Because I am,” Michael says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I’m the Antichrist, (Y/N). I possess powers that your mind couldn’t even fathom. I could level an entire city with just the snap of my fingers, could bend you to my will with a simple glance.”

“That’s how you were able to get me to leave the building that first night,” you realize, Michael nodding in agreement.

“Very good, pet. It’s also why so many of your fellow employees look as if they’re sleepwalking,” he mocks, giving you half a mind to dig the scalpel into the side of his neck. “Don’t even try it. That silly little wound would barely harm me, let alone kill me.”

“Great, you can read minds too?”

“Yet another one of my numerous gifts.”

“This is...a lot to take in.”

“Obviously. It’s not every day that you meet a man such as myself.” Michael licks his lips, staring at the beating pulse point on your neck. “Now, I believe you promised me some of your blood after I did what you asked of me?”

“Wait!” What sounds like a growl rumbles from Michael’s chest as he rolls his eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me, that first night I met you? It’s pretty obvious now that I was meant to be your meal then, so why did you decide not to? Aren’t I a liability now?”

“You are,” Michael admits. “You could, theoretically, run to the press and spill my secret. But you won’t. I don’t know you that well, true, but something in me knows that you won’t.”

He’s right, and you hate the fact that he is. Even if you were to tell the media, would they even believe you, or would they just think you’re crazy? Michael hasn’t killed you yet, but it’s entirely likely that he would end your life if you tried to tell anybody. Vampire or not, you’re not a snitch. His secret, unfortunately, is safe with you.

“Alright, fine, I wouldn’t tell anybody. That still doesn’t answer my first question, though. Why didn’t you kill me on the night we met?” Michael hesitates, the first sign of any emotion other than a confident arrogance or intense hunger.

“I--vampires are prone to heightened emotions. What you would feel as a normal emotion, we feel that tenfold. I was so close to completing the hunt and draining you, but your alarm snapped you out of the daze I had you in. When you made fun of me for never being around, it managed to make me laugh. You didn’t know it, but you had bought yourself some time. After you explained to me your plans, and I saw the brilliant mind you possess, there was no way I could kill you. You’re the first human I’ve talked to for almost a decade that’s made enough of an impression on me to avoid becoming prey.”

“I thought you were going to end up firing me after I said that,” you joke, placing the scalpel down now that you know you’ve made it impossible for Michael to kill you. “Well, a deal’s a deal.”

Michael’s eyes widen, and his fangs nearly pierce his bottom lip, even as he’s smiling. “Is it alright if I bite you? It’s been so long since I’ve had someone willingly let me feed from them.”

He closes his eyes and shudders, the mere thought of getting to bite you already exhilarating.

“Um...yeah, I guess?” The speed at which Michael moves is dizzying. One moment you’re staring down at him, and the next he’s got your back pinned against the desk.

“I’ve had to cut back on my hunts here in an attempt to keep you from figuring things out, but now that the secret’s out, that won’t be an issue.” He breathes deeply, nose nuzzling against your neck. You gasp when he lightly nips your pulse point, licking the heated flesh thoroughly.

“I won’t, like, become a vampire or anything, will I?” Michael smirks up at you, red starting to make its way back into those blue eyes.

“There’s a very specific process to become a vampire. You have nothing to worry about, pet.”

“This is so fucking crazy, I can’t believe I’m going to let an actual vampire bite me,” you mutter, nervously laughing as Michael brushes the hair away from your neck.

“I should warn you that many people find immense pleasure from being bitten.”

“Why’s that?”

“When connected to a pulse point, my heartbeat begins to sync with that of whomever I’m biting. This connects us, basically, and is very pleasurable for both parties.”

“Hmm, so exaggeration is also a vampire trait,” you quip, staring up at Michael. “Just get it over with, please.”

You refuse to close your eyes or look away, not wanting to show that you’re actually scared of the situation. Michael leans over you, heavy weight pressing you down against the glass desk. It’s a little shocking when he starts off by gently kissing your neck, nipping and sucking like every person who’s ever given you a hickey before has. When his hair starts to tickle your face, you lean your head further to the side. Michael looks up from his position, and you’re startled to see just how rapidly red floods into his eyes and black veins pop out above his cheekbones. He smirks, shooting you a playful wink before letting his head drop back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

You yelp when he first bites you, two pinpricks that feel like a liquid fire easily slicing your skin and allowing Michael to drink from you. His hips keep your lower body from squirming, hand locked in your hair and arm on your shoulder to prevent your thrashing. A question of whether Michael’s fangs act as straws, or if he simply allows the blood to pool into his mouth, enters your head. However, all thoughts are quickly pushed aside when the near-agonizing pain suddenly turns to a blinding pleasure.

Michael moans at the same time as you, but it hardly registers over the sound of your own pumping blood roaring in your ears. You can suddenly feel everything; blood running through your veins and being drained by Michael, how his velvet coat feels against your bare wrists, and even how painfully hard he is against your thigh. If this were any other time, you’d laugh in his face and make fun of him to the point where he would love to kill you. Now, though, you’d be a hypocrite, for your own arousal pools between your legs. You’re extremely grateful that you’re unable to move, or else you’re pretty sure your hips would be bucking up into his.

All of your senses are clouded by Michael. The sight of him, eyes closed and teeth clamped over your neck as he drinks deeply from you. The sounds of him, consuming your blood and loudly moaning at the same time. The feel of him, pressed up against you much in the same way a lover would position themselves. The smell of him, that rich copper that you now associate with blood and something earthy, something you only smell when you’re around a precious antique. Even how you can practically taste what he’s tasting, can see the allure in your own sweet, yet tangy, blood.

All you can think of, all you want, need, is Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael. You chant his name like a prayer, hands itching at the need to wrap around his lithe form and pull him even closer to you. The intense pleasure is all-consuming, and you realize that you would gladly let him drink you to death if it meant your last moments would be spent in ecstasy.

Michael isn’t a new vampire, and knows all of the signs when it’s getting to the point that his victim is going to start losing too much blood. He can sense your heart beating faster, breathing quickening as your legs weakly kick from under him. It’s incredibly difficult, but he manages to pull away. He can’t resist his base urges, leaning in to collect the last few drops of blood from your puncture wounds before sitting up between your legs and licking his lips clean. You scramble up, lightheaded and so aroused that you’re pulsing between your thighs.

“That was--that--wow,” you stutter, clutching a hand to your neck. You cringe slightly at the feeling of your own heart beating beneath your fingers, Michael smirking and delicately cleaning his fangs with his tongue.

“Such pretty noises you make, pet. Not to mention just how delectable you taste. Best that I’ve had this century, surely.”

You silently curse when you feel your cheeks heating up, Michael smiling widely at the blush on your face.

“Are you done now? I’d like to go home now,” you discreetly shift your thighs, trying anything to stop feeling so hot and bothered.

“I get the feeling that you’re just as desperate for more, just as I am.” When he reaches down and palms himself through his slacks, you blanch and jump up.

“Goodnight, Michael.” The man in question stands, gleefully watching as you shakily gather your things.

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Rest assured, this is not the last time we will find ourselves in a situation such as this.” Somehow, you don’t doubt that at all.

///////////////

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#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #vampire!michael #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon au

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k-knightt-blog · 5 years

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Superstar: Tom Hiddleston One-shot

Request: Can you please write one where y/n arrives on set and she’s super poorly but insisting she’s fine but Tom takes her back to his trailer and takes care of her, and that’s, eh like, when he knows that he has fallen in love with her!

Word count: 1,500

Tom was watching y/n from the corner of his eye, trying to concentrate on what the director, Taika, was telling him. He could hear the man talk but his main concern was focused on you. Tom, who never was unprofessional, interrupted Taika’s charming New Zealand drawl, “Is y/n okay?” He asks him since he hadn’t spoken to you today but Tom knew Taika had since you are his personal assistant. ”She came in here this morning, looking like death warmed up. She insisted she was alright.” Taika said, and Tom nodded, ”Of course she did,” He crossed his arms across his chest in disbelief to you being, alright. Both of their eyes locate you. You’re standing against a door frame, your face flushed and your eyes half open, breathing heavily as though you weren’t getting enough air. You didn’t look good, at all.

The pair of them began to walk over to you, just abandoning what they had been doing previously. Your head was still in your one hand, your fingers curled around your cheek. Almost like you were dizzy and needed to hold your head up manually. You didn’t even notice the two men before they stood close to you. Tom let out a slight cough, to make you aware of them, this made you jump and let out a little curse. God, you were dizzy. Your glazed eyes met theirs, “Tom,” You try holding back a cough that made your next words jagged, “Taika, you gave me quite the fright.” They don’t say a word.

Tom was worried now for real. You had a reputation on set for hardly using anyone’s real names, you had an array of nicknames for everyone. Well, everyone who you were close to. And you were close to Tom and Taika, and you had just said their first names. Usually, you’d call Taika, Newbie because he was from New Zealand, and also T-bone, simply because it was funny. But everyone’s personal favourite was the very informative, Mr Director Man. Tom, you called a bundle of pet names such as honey, darling boy, pebble. Tom liked all of them and would grin every time you called him one of these.

The one he disliked though was "superstar" because he wasn’t quote-unquote a superstar at all. In which you commented that you could always set up a twitter poll and see that he was wrong. Tom exclusively called you darling or y/n, because he thought your name was beautiful and you told him he was being unimaginative. This vibrate personality of yours wasn’t at display at the moment, not even the slighted. “Why are you two staring at me? I don’t like it.” You say to the two men, your nose is as stuffy as its ever been. ”You don’t look too good y/n.” Tom finally said and put his hand on your shoulder, to both steady you and to show you he was being serious. “You need to go home and get some rest,” You hear Taika agree with Tom. ”It’s just a cold, don’t be silly I’ll be alright, I need to-“ Tom interrupted, “No, the only thing you need to do is rest, you’re sick y/n. I say this with the kindest words I can find, but darling, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so pale and simultaneously flush as you are now,” Taika again doesn’t say anything but simply lets out an 'mmm' to show his agreement to Tom’s statement.

”I don’t even have a temperature, I checked this morning,” You lean forward and grab Tom’s hand, and bring it up to your forehead, “See, I’m alright.” Tom made a grimace, and brought his hand down to his side again, “You’re absolutely burning up y/n!” You had crossed your arms over your chest now, slightly annoyed. ”Really, y/n, everything’s under control here, you called everyone you had on the list, right, and sorted out that other thing,” Taika said and looked at you with pity, “You’re saying nobody would miss me huh?” You say and were about to walk away from them when Tom catches your smaller frame, “Let me at least escort you to my trailer, you can have a nap and I get you some flu medicine. Then, if you don’t feel any better, I will drive you home and see that you've checked out.” Tom’s tone is serious but very loving, “Does that sound alright?” He asks you and you two make eye contact, “All right, I yield! Take me to my death bed.” You say dramatically as you begin to stomp away, towards the trailers, leaving Tom to follow you. Although your fast pace suddenly came to a halt when you started coughing up one of your lungs. “Hey, steady there superstar,” Tom had caught up with you and had now snaked his hand around your waist. “Funny.” You muttered and the both of you continued to walk.

You didn’t say two words to Tom the entire time, it took around 5 minutes to leave set and walk over to the trailers. As from nowhere you hear a chuckle, you look up at Tom in confusion. He smiles down at you, “What’s so funny pebbles?” Your tone is slightly annoyed, “Only you could be angry with someone for helping them. And here I was thinking you had some tenderness for me in your heart.” Why does he have to sound like a goddamn play all the time? “Of course I do Shakespeare but I feel like microwaved rat vomit,” Tom let out a shriek, “You feel like what?” He said baffled, laughing. “You heard me, and I just hate being sick, and I hate being a nuisance. Like now, I’ve forced the star of the show from the set, and what if I get you sick, bloody hell-” Tom stopped you, “You’re never a nuisance, my darling. I’ll happily nurse you back to health all my life. Also, I’ve got an immune system like steel,” You blush, and Tom slings his arms around your shoulder, your head landing under his chin.

There wasn’t anyone who didn’t know that the both of you were mad for each other, well everyone knew it except for the two of you. Ironic as it sounds. Tom had been pining over you since he met you, which was 6 months since. From the start, you had hit it off, at every meeting you’d just automatically sit together. You were very beautiful, and Tom had let it slip one too many times during these 6 months. He has called you angelic once and you remember your heart nearly exploding. After around a month and a half, let’s say two, it was flirtation city. Both you and Tom were quick-witted and creative with your responses and comments for each other. This ongoing flirt battle had everyone in stitches. Tom would often eat his lunch in your office, and you would eat your late dinner in his hotel room. “It’s actually weird that they haven’t boned yet.” Tessa had commented, and Chris Hemsworth had agreed. Just a few weeks ago Chris had said,“Just marry her already man!” Out of frustration when Tom was babbling on about you.

Tom had successfully ushered you into the trailer and ordered you to get under the covers. He tried his very hardest not to let his eyes roam your body when you changed into one of his soft cotton t-shirts. He was now sitting on the side of the bed, watching you sniffle, “Thank you, I'd probably be keeling over right about now if I had stayed.” You chuckled a little and Tom smiled a wholesome smile. “You don’t have to thank me, darling. Try and get some rest, I’ll be back in a few hours. And then I’ll be all yours, and this terrible thing will be gone,” He laughed and tugged on his black extensions. You laugh, “You know, I like it. It’s sexy.” You say as you let out a yawn and Tom raised an eyebrow smirking. "You say that at least once a day, y/n, tell me something I don't know." Tom hear you giggle a little, but after that, you're sound asleep. There's a slight frown on your face, which Tom finds absolutely adorable. He finds himself sitting on the side of the bed just watching you. He's delighted to see the flush on your face calm down, meaning that the paracetamol he gave you was working. He wishes he could get under the covers with you, but he was needed back on set. Actually, he wanted nothing more than to be laid beside you, only getting up when you wanted some water or tea. As he walked out of his trailer, he decided that he was going to tell you something you didn't know when he came back. He was going to tell you that he had fallen in love with you and that he had been praying that you had fallen for him too.

#tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston fan fic #tom hiddelston imagine #tom fluff #tom x you #tom x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #marvel imagine #taika waititi

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straightfacedstrangeness · 4 years

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Patlabor fanfic WIP

Summary: Shige has a cute moment with Noa. Asuma is definitely not jealous. Because this is SV2 and nobody ever has anything better to do, absolutely everybody gets involved. Basically, Noa becomes the center of a (PG) harem comedy and has absolutely no idea.

Backstory: I’ve been going through a handful of fanfic WIPs and story notes from the past few years, seeing if anything really sparks my interest / seems like it’s worth finishing up...and I really like a lot of lines and concepts in this one, but I also probably won’t ever finish it.

At the time (sometime in 2018), I never finished it because the ideas got more complicated than I felt like wrangling, and because the “she was actually just blushing over Alphonse all along” ending seemed so obvious that it didn’t feel like the shenanigans leading up to the reveal were “worth it”.

And now, I probably won’t finished it because at the time I thought Noa was in her early or mid-twenties, and that Shige was in his mid- or late twenties...but it turns out that Noa is 18 in the Early Days / TV timeline (and left SV2 by the time she was 23 in Patlabor 2) and that The Next Generation set Shige’s canon age at 59, making him fucking 45 during Early Days / TV. 8′) Since part of the story hinges on Shige crushing on her, even though (or especially because?) it’s onesided, the age difference kinda squicks me out too much for me to want to write any more. But again, a lot of the lines and concepts make me laugh, so I figured I might as well share.

If you like this but wish it had more terrible sex jokes and/or that it was just poorly written Shige/Sakaki smut, check out my AO3 page cus that describes the only two Patlabor fics I've finished thus far X’D (And I definitely won’t be offended if that’s not your cup of tea.)

And now, the story~ (+ notes)

“AHH—!”

Shige started, banging his head on the raised hatch. It took a few moments of swearing and cradling his skull before he managed to straighten up and turn around.

Noa had her hand over her mouth, a fiery blush spreading across her face. He hadn’t expected to see her—it was so late, and she was clearly dressed to go home.

“Oh, uh,” she fumbled, shuffling her feet a bit. “S-sorry, I didn’t—didn’t mean to interrupt—”

Shige grinned, though the muscle movement made his head injury sting. “No problem! ’Sup?”

“I, uh...”

Another surprise. The blush deepened, and—Shige had never seen her shy. Hadn’t thought her capable of it, honestly. Noa was the only girl he’d ever met who burped openly instead of holding it in.

Noa’s hand slowly rose up to point at—him? Oh, no, past him, into the cavity of her Ingram’s leg. The hatch on its shin had been opened and the curved guard over the ankle removed, exposing a tangled web of pistons and wiring.

“Hm?” Shige blinked, then seemed to get it. “Oh! Oh, you’re worried about your ‘Alphonse’, right?”

“Oh, n-no, that’s not—”

“ ‘He’s’ just fine, Izumi-chan, cross my heart! I’m just taking a peek at the ankle servos, you’ve been shifting to the left a teensy bit when you walk lately—not enough to interfere with the auto-balance, of course, but who wants to worry about maybe possibly potentially tripping over six-ton feet in the middle of a chase scene, right? I’ll get ‘him’ back in tip-top shape in no time!”

“Ah, well, th-thank you, Shige-san...”

Shige grinned again, turned back around, bent into the leg cavity and picked up his toolbox.

Sound echoed in here.

He heard the slight whistling through his teeth as he tried to expel the tune stuck in his head, every little reverberating clink when his tools touched the mechanisms.

He didn’t hear footsteps.

More carefully this time—squatting further down instead of straightening up—Shige extricated himself and turned around.

Noa jumped, glancing away sharply, shuffling her feet again. That pink in her cheeks looked utterly alien, but...very, very cute.

Shige swallowed.

“H-hey, c’mere,” he blustered, grin a bit more lopsided than before. “Lemme show you.”

Noa hesitated—wow, shy was a really great look on her—but stepped forward. There was only room for one on the awkwardly curved slope of the Ingram’s foot, so Shige slid off and gallantly helped her up, being extremely careful about the placement of his hands. Noa’s fingers dug into his shoulder as she steadied herself, peering into the inner workings of the Ingram.

Shige pointed at things, his already-too-loud voice echoing throughout the cavern of the exposed leg. He explained what was what, Noa nodded and “oh!”ed and asked all the right questions, her hand on his shoulder the entire time. She glanced clumsily back and forth between the towering mechanisms and Shige, eyes bright, breath a little ragged.

It was Noa who almost slipped and fell climbing down, but Shige was absolutely dizzy.

---

“Sucks to be you, Asuma-chan~”

Asuma and a handful of the maintenance crew were crowded in the break room divvying up their Shanghai Noodle lunch orders. He squinted skeptically. Shige had been bursting at the seams with swagger and pride all day, and the tone of this latest remark implied a dramatic reveal.

But Asuma refused to give him the satisfaction of showing he was curious, and instead calmly dipped his chopsticks into his ramen with nothing more than an “Oh?”

“Izumi-chan’s got a crush on me.”

SSSSPPGHHHKHKG!!

Half the room jumped. Shige crowed with laughter. Asuma tried his best to hurriedly wipe the wet noodles off his vest and to look coolly aloof at the same time.

“So, what,” he grumbled, failing at the latter, “is this like the time you thought the mailman had a crush on you?”

“He did,” Shige retorted defensively. Then he settled back in his chair again, arms folded behind his head, the picture of perfect smug serenity. “But I caught Izumi-chan staring at my sexy ass while I was bent over the Ingram’s ankle servos last night. You ever seen her blush? Almost reminds you she’s a sweet young girl!”

“What makes you think she was staring at your ass?” mumbled one of the mechanics.

Asuma almost dropped the paper towel he’d been furiously wiping with.

“Yes. Yes!” he blurted, then remembered he was supposed to be coolly aloof and crossed his arms (spreading the broth stains to his sleeves). “I mean...it was probably ‘Alphonse’ you were working on, right? ‘He’s’ the only ‘man’ she has eyes for.”

“Oh, so you think just ’cus she hasn’t jumped on you that she’s completely immune to masculine charms?” Shige snorted, but he was already starting to go red at the ears. “All you ever do is yell orders at her! I’m the one taking care of her beloved ‘Pat-chan’ every day—nursing ‘him’ when ‘he’s’ sick—making sure ‘he’ always looks ‘his’ best—it just makes sense that she’d fall in love with—”

“Seriously? By that logic, Noa’d be sleeping with the entire maintenance staff!”

All the mechanics in the room became very alert.

“Or Chief Sakaki!” added Asuma.

The mechanics instantly deflated.

“Whatever.” Shige snapped up his bowl and dug in, pointedly avoiding Asuma’s gaze. “You’re just jealous.”

A triumphant smirk played across Asuma’s face. He sat back down, stain be damned. “Aw, don’t worry about it,” he said soothingly, blowing on his own ramen. “I get it. You’re crazed with loneliness being cooped up with a bunch of sweaty guys day after day, right? Of course you’ll take any smile from a girl as a—”

“I am not—”

“Shige-san!”

Both men nearly fell out of their chairs.

“There you are!” chirped Noa, though she gave a self-conscious start as she glanced around the room and saw just how many people were in it. Asuma stared. He’d never actually seen her blush before.

“U-um,” she went on, suddenly timid again but trying to smile through it. “So, Shige-san...I just wanted to ask...c-can I, uh, hang out with you again after my shift’s over? ...Like yesterday?”

“Absolutely, Izumi-chan,” said Shige smoothly, flashing a toothy grin at Asuma. “Absolutely.”

---

Hiromi groaned.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Asuma hissed, shaking him. Well, as much as he could shake the big man. “You’re curious too, right?”

Hiromi groaned again.

“What? It’s gotta be you, it’d sound weird coming from anyone else!”

Groan.

“You’re nonthreatening, man, you’re like a big teddy bear, you listen to people and care about their feelings and stuff!”

___

Notes:

Asuma bullies Hiromi into discreetly asking Noa cus Hiromi’s nonthreatening (like a big teddy bear)...Noa misinterprets & thinks Hiromi’s asking her out?

Ota thinks crush talk and/or dating a coworker is super unprofessional but now he can’t stop thinking about it either, is jealous that no one’s hitting on him? Starts alternately peacocking & being really irritable? Demands Noa and Kanuka rate the men in terms of attractiveness and then immediately gets mad cus that’s so dumb?

Noa keeps hanging out w Shige after work, looking at Alphonse’s schematics...he tries to ask her on like an actual date and she’s disappointed? Goes anyways (& went with Hiromi too)?? Now everyone’s really confused??? Asuma asks her out too???

Kanuka’s stoically scornful, like “are you all that desperate for a woman?” (like they’re all crowding around Noa cus she’s one of the only girls they know, and/or comparing it to kids who don’t want a toy until they see someone else play with it) Hiromi’s just really embarrassed and too shy to admit to Noa that there’d been a misunderstanding

Shinshi’s glad that everyone’s thinking seriously about their romantic futures

Shige & Asuma start getting weirdly competitive and start going on like trio dates where they keep one-upping each other and/or Noa thinks it’s a group hang and invites the others along

Eventually Kanuka just spells out to Noa what’s going on & she’s really surprised and embarrassed. Admits she was so shy and cagey with Shige cus she didn’t want anyone making fun if her for looking at Alphonse “naked” (since he was a mechanic, he’d understand the fascination)

#patlabor #mobile police patlabor #fanfic liveblogging

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auk-blogs · 5 years

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Shitty things that happened when I last went inpatient

At the CSU, I was denied access to my fidget toys (I am autistic AND ADHD) even though I specifically picked out ones that couldn't possibly be harmful - a stuffed animal, a Tangle, a glitter tube, etc.

Every time I tried to inform the nurses at the nurse's station that I was feeling extremely anxious, IF I got their attention at all they would just tell me that "there's colouring pages and puzzles in the dayroom" like. No?? I actually wanted some kind of medication mayhaps a sedative because I was going fucking NUTS

I was denied my ADHD pill, Vyvanse, because and I quote directly, I wasn't "working or studying or anything." No. That's not how it works. I needed that pill in order to think in a coherent manner for more than 2 seconds.

Actually the denial of my Vyvanse might be why I was so goddamn anxious? YOU try not getting anxious when your thoughts are all over the place and just keep getting faster and faster.

The other patients kept playing horribly bloody, violent, and graphic movies. Like WHY do you even HAVE a DVD that has a scene where a pirate has to do abdominal surgery on himself with no anaesthetic?? That's just. That's just pure Trigger(TM) on a shiny DVD.

There was this ONE FUCKING PATIENT. Cheri. I will hate Cheri until the day I die. She managed to always get ahead of me in her wheelchair and she would sit and simper with her watery eyes and her wobbling lip and her wringing hands and this horrible look in her eyes... The nurses always paid more attention to Cheri than me even though I was fucking articulating that HEY I NEED HELP FOR (X) THING and Cheri refused to speak.

Sweater Guy turned my room's light off in the middle of the night. I was insomniac and reading. And also the only patient in my room. Sure it's not a crime or anything but it's really fucking annoying. I wasn't bothering anyone, why not just let me read my book in peace?

For a while the only time I saw the therapist was as she was speedwalking down the hallway to leave for the day every evening. She wouldn't even make eye contact with me.

It wasn't until I finally snapped and told them that I had figured out at least 3 ways to attempt aliven't on that ward that they finally realised that yes, I DID NEED SOME ACTUAL FUCKING HELP.

The CSU led me to believe that the next place I was going to was going to be a long term facility. I took that to mean at least a month if not more. I was ready to finally get some serious help that I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET SINCE THE END OF 2016.

The CSU had a max stay of about 3 days, btw.

Well I got to Peninsula and it turns out that "long term facility" means 5 to 7 day stay. So... Not what I was led to believe.

I was strip searched, I believe is the term. Yes, I was forced to strip pretty much naked to confirm that I wasn't bringing any contraband on my person (despite me checking in voluntarily).

Like I've related before, I was "relieved of" my comfort items - my hardcover journal, some books, and my drawings. The journal and drawings in particular had content I wanted to share with the therapist(s) at Pinensula and I never got to.

When I got anxious about not having my journal/comfort item back, the staff were very apathetic to my literal BEGGING and just basically told me to suck it up and deal with it.

For some reason hardcover books were contraband?? Like what was I gon do, give someone a whack on the head? Anyway they offered me a composition book BUT IT WASN'T MYYYY JOURNAL and as any autistic knows one cannot simply replace a comfort item with a lower quality replacement.

When I, AUK, got too anxious and overwhelmed to deal anymore - Lizzie took over and threw a massive fit. We don't think we got chemically sedated, but we did get hoodwinked into going to a more "secure" ward and then when Lizzie was still pissed off, they manhandled us into a "blank room."

In the new ward, I was relieved of my clothes, my slippers, and pretty much what was left of my dignity. I was made to wear paper scrubs instead of proper clothes.

If I wanted to use the toilet or shower, a nurse would sit at the door with it propped open watching every move I made. No privacy. I eventually only used the bathroom once every morning and only showered once while I was at that ward.

The medication lady (unsure of her status - nurse? Doctor? Idk) refused to keep weaning me off my Lexapro and instead yanked me off it entirely. I'd been on Lexapro for a good while and uh. Ever hear of SSRI withdrawal? It is HORRIBLE. I still think she was totally unprofessional about that and should have fucking known better.

I am overly sensitive to sound and nobody would turn the fucking radio off. (All it played was Christmas music, too. *shudder*)

When I asked for more food, I never got it. I was so freaking hungry by the time I was released.

I'm pretty sure that the coffee was decaf because I got out into the world again and suddenly couldn't handle even half-caf. That means that the nurses were openly lying about the caffeine content - they repeatedly said it was full caffeine coffee.

There were supposed to be groups on that unit but like ...none ever happened? It was like the staff were so busy doing stuff that I couldn't see, that they didn't have time to do their jobs with the patients.

Did I mention that the manhandling left bruises? On my upper arms and also my right buttock from where the men forced me to sit down with all 200 lbs of me onto a concrete floor. Ouchies.

On my discharge notes, somebody wrote a note telling me to stop taking my birth control (which I take to regulate horribly heavy and long periods, not because I am sexually active). The discontinuation of the birth control was never verbalised to me. Never. Not once. There wasn't even an explanation in the note either.

Pinensula put me on what they said was an anti anxiety script but I looked it up and it's actually an antipsychotic. So if you go tell someone that you're anxious, you're psychotic? Like. What? (I understand medications can be used for more than one purpose. But I've been consistently prescribed meds that don't match with my self reported symptoms, and even meds that aren't MEANT to be used for the purpose they were prescribed to me for.)

I got so overstimulated while on the unit that I begged for earplugs. They didn't help at all, even when I combined them with a pillow over my head too. And then they went and turned the radio LOUDER.

(Although not relevant to me, there was this one patient who went ballistic over a hair being on her unpeeled orange ... She had been fiddling with her hair right before eating and she was the only one with that hair texture and colour on the unit... Yeah she threw a fit because she got one of her hairs on her unpeeled orange. Sigh.)

Did I mention that both the CSU and Peninsula are mostly for detoxing people? They just throw detoxing addicts and people who are having purely mental health problems in together. It is a bad system, because people like me who just need mental health support are often triggered by the detoxing addicts, and we get ignored by staff because the detoxing addicts are a higher priority I guess? They're certainly more dramatic.

My mum later told me that she was told that I was likely to be released early because I was "cooperative." Of fucking course I'm cooperative you absolute nitwits, I checked in voluntarily because I've been suicidal for like 16 years and I want some fuckin HELP

My mum tried to bring me a small stuffed dragon as a birthday present (yes, I was inpatient on my birthday). The stuffed toy was not allowed through because it was contraband. FUCKING HOW IS A LITTLE PLUSH DRAGON CONTRABAND? Mum articulated her distress as somethinf like "I just wanted to bring my autistic spawn something stimmy on their birthday" like fucking hell man, don't ever go inpatient if you are neurodivergent because they sure as hell won't allow you to have any coping mechanisms that aren't staying quiet, staring at nothing, and using dried up markers on a badly designed colouring page.

Anyway sorry this got so long. There's probably even more stuff that I forgot about.

Storal of the mory is don't go inpatient in Southeastern Tennessee, kids. You might be fucked up now but they will definitely fuck you up worse.

#auk.txt #psychiatric facility #psychiatric abuse #medical abuse #trigger warning #idk how to tag

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goldenrosetea · 5 years

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VERY IMPORTANT PSA

rewatching bits of the sh#ne d##son doc on j##e p##l cause I need background noise (I literally don’t give two shits about what I’m watching I just need noise rn to work) and I realize now that---the psychologist in the second part? she ain’t doin so hot on her part of being a psychologist.

tldr; (for those who need it), kati morton, a registered marriage and family therapist who specializes in eating disorders and self-harming behaviors, is spreading false information about people with Antisocial Personality Disorder, showing inappropriate behavior toward said people with said cluster b personality disorder, and is generally not being a good psychologist on her part about it. Here’s a video I found that can basically sum up everything I just described down below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLF2jhzpEII

[MORE UNDER THE CUT, sorry mobile users]

A lovely comment I found in the comments section caught my attention while browsing through quickly:

[TRANSCRIPTION: Juman Al Balushi commented: The psychologist gives me weird vibes. If this was my therapist I’ll actually run for my life especially the way she lacks empathy for people with mental disorder. She called people who are damaged genetically icky...Psychologists are supposed to bring awareness and not scare people away from their mental health issues. I really wish someone would actually evaluate her and her license. I really can’t at all stand her talking. I’m off this video.]

and you know? this person is correct. She’s very blank when she’s talking about the subject at hand, and she does say a few times how people with ASPD (antisocial personality disorder), specifically those who are sociopaths, are ‘icky’ and that they give her ‘the creeps’, going so far as to say she needs to take a shower after thinking about it (another quote noted out is how she said “It makes you kinda feel bad for them but not really”). That’s not good behavior to instantly suggest/implant to someone learning about sociopath’s/ASPD, ESPECIALLY since the whole purpose behind being a therapist/psychologist is to help bring awareness to mental illnesses and to comfort and help people with them to not be afraid of them, this will only make them MORE afraid of people with ASPD instead of wanting to learn more about them and how the disorder affects them personally. Sh#ne didn’t do that much of a good job either in the video, as he was paranoid about if his friends/himself/random strangers/youtubers/etc. were sociopaths and that he ‘can’t trust anyone around him’ because of it. THAT is bad stigma, as not all people with ASPD (the vast majority I’ll say) are like that and are just trying to be normal people in society but that’s a different matter entirely that I won’t go into detail about at this time. Another comment also helped prove this point further:

[TRANSCRIPTION: part of a comment from DEF. inately Floozy states: What she is describing with such confidence is actually Psychopathy, not Anti-Social Personality Disorder. Furthermore, I am disappointed by her as a clinical psychologist student for inaccurately describing something- she has the DSM 5 right in front of her too--and calling it gross, or scary, or weird. These people cannot control their disorder and it’s highly unprofessional for her to talk down to people who are diagnosed with it.]

Doing a bit of research shows that, yes, she did describe psychopathy instead of ASPD in general/sociopathy (as psychopathy and sociopathy are both subsections of ASPD but are DRASTICALLY different disorders), thus spreading false information and stigma behind ASPD just to make it dramatic for his video. She needs to re-inform herself about what ASPD TRULY is before going around spreading information to a rather large, mostly uninformed crowd (seeing as this video now has well over 20 million views at this point). I’m sad nobody pointed this out sooner (as far as I could see, I could be very wrong I’m sorry!!). Here’s what antisocial personality disorder REALLY is (this comes from the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual) itself):

If you wish to read up more on ASPD, as there is a lot of information that I cannot link here bc of length purposes, here’s the entire section from the version of the DSM 5 I found on archive.org: https://archive.org/details/2013-DSM-5/page/n689

this psychologist, who’s name is kati morton, shouldn’t be going about the internet spreading false information about a mental illness like this, when she can’t even fact check herself. She made a full video about ASPD (specifically sociopathy) and skimming through it proves that she still doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about. IMMEDIATELY in the beginning, she says, and I quote “I honestly think we just call people sociopaths or psychopaths because it sounds more ominous than antisocial personality disorder”, and EVEN THEN she goes to say that either term (psychopathy and sociopathy) are interchangeable (they are NOT btw, two different disorders with TOTALLY different symptoms behind them). It’s irritating how many times she’s saying her own opinion on the matter and not even taking the time to double check herself on anything. She isn’t even registered to BE this type of psychologist, she’s a marriage and family therapist that also specializes in eating disorders and self-harming behaviors, so she should just stay in her lane and not try to explain something that she doesn’t even SPECIALIZE in, without consulting other professionals on the subject first or, like I’ve been saying, double-check with other professional and reliable sources before going on about the topic. These are her credentials (and they change sometimes depending on the site you’re on but this is from her official website):

Please don’t go and bother her about this issue (last thing she needs is a mob going after her personally), but DO say more about it so that she can get more exposure on her inaccuracies and not get as much public attention as she has. We need better people out there talking about mental health that’s an actual PROFESSIONAL on the topics they’re talking about, and not one that throws inaccuracies to the wind and expects people to accept them as fact.

#ichinii.txt #long post #psa #IMPORTANT PSA #shane dawson//#kati morton//#aspd #antisocial personality disorder #oof yikes she needs to be stopped #anyways got that off my chest #I'm studying psychology currently (especially disorders like this)#so it's bugging me that she's getting as much attention as she has

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 6 years

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I've got 99 problems and the Russo brothers are at least 80 of them (Infinity War spoilers behind the cut, obviously, and also discussion of That Podcast Interview if anyone would rather avoid it)

so the thing is I didn't actually listen to the podcast because I don't hate myself that much and I haven't seen a full transcript, but I got the gist and obviously it was total bullshit. obviously. (Tom is getting too old?? Loki isn't an interesting character anymore???) also obviously, the best thing for my mental health would be to take them at their word, because this whole Schrodinger's Loki thing is not great for my brain, but if I accept he's gone for good and then Avengers 4 does something really great with him, it'll be a wonderful surprise

but I am having a real hard time with that, because at this point my level of okayness with Loki's death mostly seems to depend on me being able to hope that he'll be back, which again is NOT GREAT because it means stuff like that podcast interview, and anything similar that happens during the next YEAR, and probably Avengers 4 itself, can all trigger mood spirals where I realize "wait, fuck, I'm not okay with this"

BUT THE THING IS, I honestly don't think there's any Word of God that would actually convince me of anything before the movie comes out? like, they were pretty definitive in that interview (and apparently kind of insulting to reinforce it, which uh, seems...unprofessional? although again I'm hearing all of this secondhand), but with something like this, I genuinely would not believe them if they said the sky was blue. because...quite often the sky is not blue! in fact the sky is frequently a lot of different colors that are not blue! and it is probably all of those colors simultaneously at different points around the globe! but the general statement "the sky is blue" is still not actually a lie because it doesn't specify anything like "always" or "entirely" or "right now in this exact location"!

so again, it seems pretty definitive to say Loki's permanently dead for real and he's not coming back. except, you know...these movies are based on comics in which characters can come back from death in ways that can technically be handwaved as not actually coming back from the dead? like. he was sorta dead for a few minutes and is already back but nobody knows it, so any discussion presupposing he's for real dead is incorrect to begin with. or that very specific version of him is dead and not coming back but there was time-travel stuff and an extremely similar version of him never died to begin with. or that specific version of him is dead but time-travel stuff is going to unwind things back to the first Avengers movie (because set photos) and that version of Loki is still alive, which...would be shitty but better than nothing. or that version of Loki is dead but he's going to come back as Kid Loki (also not ideal but better than nothing). or that body is permanently dead but he transferred his consciousness to something and he's going to reconstruct his body through, idk, the Reality Stone or something. there are in fact MULTIPLE possibilities that still leave room for "nope he's not coming back" to be technically true.

and then of course there's also the possibility that they're just straight-up, flat-out lying. like, lying in interviews is a little different from releasing misleading trailers or generally being misleading in pre-release interviews, and I really don't know if Marvel people have explicitly lied in pre-release interviews (I’m pretty sure there were some actual straight-up lies tossed around during the Secret Empire clusterfuck, I’m just not sure if that attitude extends to the films), but...they're happy to mislead everyone. and Infinity War is kind of unprecedented in the MCU, in that we literally can't have fully honest postmortem interviews until Avengers 4 comes out because IT'S A TWO-PART STORY. so effectively, even while doing postmortem stuff for Infinity War, we're still leaning into pre-release Avengers 4 stuff, which means...misleading audiences and maybe lying. and maybe lying harder than ever before because it's such a weird situation.

which puts me back to the whole Schrodinger's Loki thing, because...okay. there’s a lot about Loki’s death scene that was fucking weird, to the point that it’s either deliberate foreshadowing or it was an attempt at dramatic irony (combined with bad writing tbh) that was more just about rubbing salt in the wounds of Loki fans. the Russos’ recent comments have not changed this. but they’ve additionally complicated the situation, because just like with Loki’s death scene, the exact same statements could have wildly different meanings and intentions.

like--maybe they said what they said because they’re irritated because Loki’s death was suppose to be ~edgy~ and ~shocking~ and generally horrible but in, like, a heartwrenchingly tragic (and unmistakably final) way rather than a cheap and dumb way, and now people are not only going “hey, that was cheap and dumb” but also “that was really weird, and I bet he’s actually coming back, because he’s done it before and also that was really weird,” and it’s turned into...kind of a weird resentment toward Loki in general, his status as a fan favorite (how dare we love someone other than the title characters, I guess?), his fans, and even Tom Hiddleston himself for playing the character in such a way that he became so loved? so that resentment came out in the interview, the basic meaning of which was “ugh, dumb fans expecting happy fun times like Ragnarok and not understanding the obvious meaning of our deep and tragic art or daring to say our writing is bad instead of being moved, of course he’s dead for reals, he wasn’t an important part of this movie anyway, Loki sucks and so does Tom and so do you for liking Loki more than the actual main characters, so there”

which is unprofessional and shitty and...totally possible; I think @mykingdomforapen pointed out that the AtLA creators kind of went this direction with Zuko/Katara shippers. BUT ON THE OTHER HAND, if--just as a wild for instance--Loki’s death scene really does Mean Something, and he’s going to play a significant part in Avengers 4 and also properly come back to life, and it’s supposed to be a huge amazing surprise for audiences because nobody would expect the non-ashed people to come back, except it turns out that people are already predicting it because this is how fandom works now, sorry, and the Russos and Kevin Feige are basically panicking all “shit wait this was supposed to be a surprise, this was supposed to be huge, we gotta throw everybody off the scent, UHHHHH YEAH WE TOTES KILLED HIM BECAUSE HE’S BORING AND TOM’S GETTING OLD, THAT MAKES SENSE RIGHT, shit do you think they bought it”--

well. again. the exact same statements could have wildly different intentions. and it does sound kind of tin-hatty, admittedly, but at the same time, they won’t even reveal the fucking name of the movie because that’s a spoiler, so obviously they’re keeping Avengers 4 stuff even closer to the vest than Infinity War was. at this point they want us to know basically nothing. and I was thinking, well, what exactly would they say that might be effective in the hypothetical scenario where they still want to keep their secrets despite people already being on the right track, and I really couldn’t come up with anything? because anything like “well we don’t want to give anything away! ;) spoilers!!” would at least confirm it’s a possibility and they might not want to admit even that much.

I don’t know. like I said, this whole Schrodinger’s Loki situation is crazy-making and not very healthy, and the best thing I can do for myself is make peace with canon as it currently exists and go hard on the fix-it AUs while knowing they’re AUs, and not have any expectations one way or another for Avengers 4, but that’s uh...a tiny bit harder to actually do than to say. >_<

#infinity war spoilers #avengers: infinity war #marvel cinematic universe #loki

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