#who am I kidding I will probably absorb every new piece of information about this game like a sponge 😭

[mrs-gauche]

While I know it’s generally bad for leaks to happen (unless they are intentionally encouraged by the developer, and yes this seems to be a thing, as Mark Darrah himself even mentioned in the past), and there’s no real point in overanalyzing something that is pre-Alpha footage from over a year ago (!!)... I’m just glad it didn’t contain some major spoilers story wise, because I wouldn’t know how to avoid them until whenever this game actually releases. 😂 I’d like to know as little as possible about the story and the characters going into it.......

........That being said.. I’m a hypocrite, I couldn’t resist and took a tiny little peek 😂(and if you don’t wanna know anything until there’s something official, I completely understand, just don’t read any further now!), so all I want to say is

HOLY SHIT GUYS This seems legit and we are probably looking at the very first glimpse of REAL (pre-Alpha) DA4 gameplay footage after EIGHT flippin years, which means this game is REAL, it’s actually happening, it’s a real game that’s playable and everything and ahhhh!!! Weisshaupt?? Davrin?? A dragon?? Darkspawn?? Purple stuff??? DID YOU SEE THAT HAIR ANIMATION THOUGH??

Ahem. Okay, so with the first wave of euphoria out of the way now, how are we feeling about THIS

Hmmmmm 👀👀👀

HMMMMM

OHHHHHHH

Seems like the spirit of Joplin lives on after all?? 👀👀👀

I’ve already seen plenty of people speculating and while we should take everything with a grain of salt here of course, there was a comment on a reddit post by another (supposed) playtester that confirmed “Rook” to be indeed the protagonist’s name/title! 👀 And while this could be of course just a placeholder name for whatever it’ll actually end up being, there could be a lot to derive from this!

- As people have pointed out, “Rook” does sound a lot like a code/spy name, much like Charter, Butler, Farrier or any of Leliana’s spies

- Rook being also a type of crow, fitting in perfectly with the bird themed names like Hawke

- In slang, it’s ALSO another word for “swindler” or “deceiver”, which also reminds me a lot of how there was a Lord of Fortune in Tevinter Nights who used the name “Hollix” as part of their disguise during a mission (which btw was actually the name of Dorian’s mother’s pet nug lol)

So all of this considered, and assuming that the leaked footage might have been part of the very beginning of the game (and how the leaker seemed to suggest that Grey Warden is just one of multiple factions you can choose from!), can I just say that my speculation about how DA4 might start off with an infiltration mission of one of four factions (Grey Warden/Antivan Crow/”Veil Jumper”/Tevinter.. something), while playing as a “spy” (/Lord of Fortune?? 👀) under the alias “Rook”, might actually turn out to be true after all??? (°ロ°)

I mean.. it could just end up being a simple “choose your class/faction” at the start and that’s it 😂, but either way, if we get something resembling different “origin stories”, like depending on which faction you choose, the game starts off with a different mission (similar to what Cyberpunk did?), I think that would be an awesome concept! (Not setting any expectations here though! 😌 The game might start off at Weisshaupt no matter which faction you choose!)

But back to topic, the rook being of course also a piece in a game of chess, which was depicted on the cover of Mark Darrah’s red “Joplin” book first seen in 2016!

Which in turn also of course immediately takes us back to the amazing mind chess game between Solas and Iron Bull, referencing a real game that happened in 1851 known as “The Immortal Game”. While people have been taking Solas sacrificing most of his pieces as well as his queen (Flemythal) only to then strike the final blow and win by moving the bishop (mage) as foreshadowing and also a perfect respresentation of how both Solas and Iron Bull think and strategize, what’s interesting to note, is that it’s the turn in which Bull takes Solas’ rook that ultimately seals Solas’ win in the end. 

Now, this could mean absolutely nothing of course, but with this new information from the leaks, maybe there’s more to it than we think. 👀

Then there’s also the link to Solas’ final Tower tarot card of course...

Other than that, I just think it’ll be really cool to have a chess themed aesthetic for DA4 following the tarot card theme of DAI! Or just the idea of having a “game of minds” like the Immortal Game rather than just relying on “brute force” with an antagonist like Solas, that requires a certain level of strategic thinking and consideration from us in how we act/make decisions to outwit him, would make a lot of sense to me!

(Or we might as well reference that one Simpsons episode with the “human chess board” and cover both brute force AND strategic thinking lmaoo)

Or, even better, let us do something like the flippin “logic chess” mechanic from that glorious Ace Attorney spin off game lmaooo

Let’s bombard Solas with some hard hitting arguments. lmao

I will say though that, if “Rook” does actually end up being the title/name of our next protagonist, I’m once again very curious how the hell they’re gonna make this work in the localized versions, if they do attempt to translate the name literally. Let us pray that they’ll just stick to English for this one, or else the multiple meanings of the term will be completely lost in translation. lol Can’t wait to play as flippin “Turm” in German or “Tour” in French. 😂

#da4 #dragon age 4 #solas #need to step up my chess game it seems 👀 #exciting stuff!! #speculation time ~ 🎵🎵🎵 #who am I kidding I will probably absorb every new piece of information about this game like a sponge 😭 #yet I'd love to go into it completely blind 😭 #the dilemma 💀

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 303: And What, Pray Tell, Is a “One For All”

Previously on BnHA: The Todorokis (really just Enji) looked at their children and went “how can we screw up all four of them in uniquely different ways” and proceeded to do just that. Touya was all “just because practicing how to set myself on fire better hasn’t worked to win my dad’s affections YET doesn’t mean it will NEVER work”, because child logic. Turns out setting oneself on fire real hard isn’t so effective at winning affections, but is actually incredibly effective when it comes to burning oneself to death, so there’s that. Back in the present day, the Todorokis basked in their various misplaced (again, except for Enji) feelings of guilt, and were all “anyway but get over yourself already Enji, you still have to do something to stop this kid”, and Shouto was all “I’ll help too”, and Enji was all “(╥_╥)”, and Hawks and Jeanist were all “[surreptitiously listening in from outside the door]”, and that’s basically where we left off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks and Jeanist are all “mind if we join you on this family journey?” and proceed to stroll in uninvited with their puns and their perceptive insights. Hawks is all “so to sum everything up, we’re fucked, but at least you have us here to help you out! by the way, no clue why I’m the first person to ask this in three hundred chapters, but wtf is One For All.” We then cut to Deku, who’s still all “[(－－)]z”, and All Might, who is all “I’m just going to ignore the extremely loud racket going on right outside this room.” Which, btw, is happening on account of Bakugou, who is all “(╬◣Д◢)” as Satou, Tsuyu, and Mineta cart him away. Anyway so that’s a lot of antics, and also it looks like Hawks has gotten tired of the Todorokis refusing to put the pieces together on their own about OFA and so he is fast-tracking that shit. And meanwhile Deku is chatting it up with the Vestiges exactly like we all thought. And now we have to wait another whole week for updates on all of this. This really is not fair.

omfg lol

“our bad, we were kind of accidentally listening in on purpose.” like I said last week guys, no fuss. it’s a tradition

OMG

I am absolutely fucking floored. Hawks literally said that so casually that it’s impossible for me to rewrite it so as to be even more casual. that’s literally what I would write in the “today on bnha” section. in fact I probably will write that

(ETA: just for laughs I tried it and it really worked.)

a couple more things to point out about this panel: 

“TOP 3” omg yes. more like “top only” at this point, honestly. interested to see how that goes

Hawks’s phone is freaking the fuck out about something, calm down there

I know this is a standard Jeanist hair-fixing gesture that he does all the time, but I can’t help but form hypotheses about this being a stress reaction because Hawks’s hair is making him internally freak out. Hawks, if this man tries to get you alone with him and some hairspray and a comb, please for the love of god do not listen to him. get out of there and call the authorities

omg Shouto’s face

okay confession, I wasn’t really sold on the whole “Shouto has a schoolboy crush on Hawks” thing until exactly now, when I became 100% sold on it. that is adorable

and heck with it, gotta show Enji and Rei’s reactions here as well because lol

“omg my son who’s not my son, and he just overheard everything about me being a terrible shitty father and person overall, oh and plus my actual-son set him on fire and called him out on a national broadcast. I’m just gonna stare at him baffledly.” versus Rei, who is all “hmm, who are these people”

so Hawks is all “I got released from the hospital after one day for some reason so I made Jeanist drive me around places while we talked about life” but uh, heyyyyy, what’s Rei doing

okay, uh

SO FUCKING FORMAL OMFG. “SORRY MY KID TRIED TO BURN YOU TO DEATH, APPARENTLY HE DOES THAT” REI NO IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

HAWKS IS ALL “I’M JUST GONNA LAUGH SINCE THAT’S MY DEFAULT RESPONSE TO BEING PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE”

let me tell you a secret Hawks, it’s my default response too. ahahahahahahaha oh thank god Jeanist is helping her up -- AND MAKING A JEANS PUN, OF COURSE. IT’S BEEN ALMOST THIRTY SECONDS. MY MAN WAS DYING

“WTF IS ILLEGAL DENIM” he’s talking ‘bout them counterfeit jeans, Rei. Antoine Bugleboy knows

THANK YOU JEANIST!! OUT HERE ASKING THE RELEVANT QUESTIONS

damn straight. we’re not gonna sit around waiting another 300 chapters for this information on this man’s watch

now Hawks is telling Endeavor he used to watch videos of him all the time, and calling him his “childhood obsession” I can’t

OH MY SWEET STARS AND MOONS

1000% CANON. “SO CLOSE...” ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU REALLY PUT THAT THOUGHT BUBBLE THERE AND EVERYTHING. “GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, SO JUST IN CASE YOU WEREN’T ALREADY AWARE, TODOROKI SHOUTO IS NOT ACTUALLY STRAIGHT.” HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I AM LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED. THIS IS AMAZING

and meanwhile that look on Hawks’s face while he casually-but-not-really-casually-at-all asks this question. that phone app better be using his actual voice. I’m not sure I could take this scene in the anime at this point if it was like Alexa talking or something

that look in his eyes is basically saying that so far, based on the information he has absorbed up until this point, Hawks is prepared to view his former childhood obsession as a flawed but changed man. however I get the distinct feeling that depending on Endeavor’s answer now, he would be willing to drastically shift some of his opinions on him

(ETA: this is maybe my favorite panel in the entire chapter. the fact that his question isn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes are zeroing on on Endeavor. and the way his leaning-on-Shouto pose manages to be simultaneously nonchalant and yet ever-so-slightly protective. there’s so much going on in this one question and gesture and I’m mildly obsessed with it.)

however, Rei is all “that was me” and ONCE AGAIN WITH THE FACES IN THIS CHAPTER holy shit

Hawks definitely did not see that one coming sob. it’s so fun watching him frantically recalculate his ideas about this family every two seconds

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI I UNDERSTOOD THE PARALLELS ALREADY, YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS

yes, Hawks, you get it. it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. though unlike your shitty parents, Rei and Enji are at least trying

OKAY I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WITH ALL OF THIS

fljkdlaskfjlwkjl okay we’re doing the bullet-points breakdown here

first of all, the fact that poor little Shouto’s heart is still thumping away at this proximity and all he can think is “CLOSE” all intelligently as he stares at him with that face omg

and meanwhile Horikoshi has these STRATEGIC BANDAGES WRAPPED AROUND HIS CHEEKS TO HIDE ALL OF HIS SHOUJO BLUSHING omfg. SENPAI NOTICED YOU SWEETIE!!!

HAWKS YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO OBLIGATION TO WASTE ANOTHER SECOND OF YOUR LIFE WORRYING ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES WHO NEVER SPARED YOU THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF REGARD OR CONCERN IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. THE NICEST THING YOUR MOM EVER DID FOR YOU WAS BUY YOU A $2 ENDEAVOR PLUSH FROM THE DISCOUNT BIN TO KEEP YOU QUIET, AND YOU WERE SO AWED BY THAT ONE ACT OF SORTA KINDA APPROXIMATE KINDNESS THAT YOU SHAPED YOUR ENTIRE WORLDVIEW AROUND IT. PLEASE LET ME PICK YOU UP IN A BIG HUG FOR JUST A SEC, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND YOU WERE ONE THOUSAND PERCENT JUSTIFIED IN LEAVING THEM IN THE DUST THE SECOND THAT YOU COULD

but all that said, he immediately recognizes that Shouto would also have had cause to do the same in his situation, and yet hasn’t. and so he has that much more admiration for him all of a sudden, which is just super sweet, and fully appropriate. Shouto does deserve props. I’m choosing to take this as an “it takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive, and people who choose to do that even though they’re not obligated to are really amazing" type of thing, as opposed to “people who don’t forgive other people who severely wronged them are bad.” and if I’m wrong and Hawks’s line here is meant to be seen as actual failing on his part, well then fuck that, but we’ll move on

SO NOW, DOWN TO BUSINESS!

I am so, so curious as to what kind of strategy Hawks has for this (if he even has any), so I’ll just be quiet now and read

so Hawks is summing up basically what we already knew -- that Tomura and his inner circle (curious that there’s no mention of AFO, because if Hawks doesn’t know about him, that implies almost no one does) are still on the lam with a few PLF stragglers and some High Ends; that a bunch of prisons have been “liberated” (I assume this means all of the inmates escaped, so if that’s the case then where’s Kurogiri??); that the HPSC is fucked; and that heroes are resigning all over the place, and so civilians are taking matters into their own hands

OH DAMN!?

does this mean we’ll actually see some international heroes?? I will LOSE MY DAMN SHIT omg

(ETA: apparently people who paid more attention to the first BnHA movie than I did recognized the silhouettes as belonging to some background characters from Two Heroes. so maybe they were just cameos and they’re not actually new characters who are soon to join us lol. oh well.)

anyway so Hawks agrees with the other Todorokis that Endeavor has no choice but to fight

awww

DON’T WORRY ENJI THEY’VE GOT YOUR BACK. WITH YOUR FLAMES, AND JEANIST’S PUNS, AND HAWKS’S BOYISHLY GOOD LOOKS, THE THREE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MINDS TO

so Enji is very pertinently asking why they’re standing by him in spite of the... [gestures vaguely to everything]

oh my lordy lord

Shouto you had better do something to combat this soon, or this man will sneak past you on my favorite character ranking after all. his face. his cheeky lil finger gun. the fact that he sums it up so fucking simply. “if someone is trying to do the right thing, I want to support them.” exactly. exactly

(ETA: and one last thing I love but forgot to mention, which is the fact that Hawks calls it a team-up despite the fact that he is clearly in charge.)

meanwhile Jeanist is all “as for me, at this point I just straight up don’t give a fuck”

I can’t handle how fucking cool this chapter is you guys

so Hawks is all “you good?” at Enji. and Enji...

if anyone needs me, I will be building myself a discourse-proof fort made entirely out of problematic characters. I don’t even care. I will go on living my life very happily in here

lol at Natsu being all “BUT DON’T THINK THIS MAKES US FRIENDS”

I’m living for this weird and no-doubt entirely unintended implication that Natsu and them all are gonna join in the fight with the rest of them. I mean, they do presumably all have very powerful ice quirks. and Natsu has medical training on top of that, and Fuyu is skilled at getting eight-year-olds to behave which could be a useful talent for dealing with Tomura hahaha I kid, but I’M JUST SAYING. who needs hero licenses anyway

OH SHIT FINALLY SOME DISCUSSION OF AN ACTUAL STRATEGY. even if it’s just a PR strategy

WHAKLHL

and now for some reason we’re flashing back to Natsu and Fuyu’s attempts to navigate through the media crowd outside the hospital

well I guess this is why I’m not the mangaka. if I were writing this I would have done something trite and predictable like using that “One for All” line as an excuse to cut to Deku!! as opposed to this entirely unrelated scene!!

seriously though why do we need to see this lol

no one in this crowd has ever heard of Alexander Dumas huh. or even the popular 2007 Disney Channel original movie, High School Musical 2

so now there’s an entire page of Hawks saying they need to know what One for All is, and Endeavor having one of those patented Todoroki WHOOSH realizations lmao look at this

just wait until this man figures out that one of the scrappy new interns he took on three months ago was actually the main character all along

SKDFIOHWIERLKSJGLWLK!!

NOW IS PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO ASK MYSELF WHY I CHOSE THIS CHARACTER WHO KEEPS DISAPPEARING FOR SIX OR TWELVE OR FORTY CHAPTERS AT A TIME TO BE MY FUCKING FAVORITE. WELCOME BACK SON PLEASE DON’T SCREAM YOURSELF TO DEATH YOU STILL HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(ETA: can we just take a moment to appreciate how Bakugou even got so close to Deku’s room in the first place though. in this giant hospital with no idea of where to even go. does he have Deku Radar or something.)

YOU SIX ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY HIT LIST!! SPARE ME YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS!! MY BAKUDEKU REUNION KEEPS GETTING POSTPONED WEEK AFTER WEEK!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HEROES WHERE IS YOUR CONCEPT OF MERCY

(ETA: btw just to be clear, I’m not actually angry lol; it makes total sense that they don’t want this rampaging feral toddler who was still in his own coma all of fifteen minutes ago to come and start screaming at the other coma child until he tears all his stitches out. if there’s anything we Bakugou fans should be familiar with by now, it’s being patient.)

also, Tsuyu wrapping her tongue around Bakugou’s still-healing torso wound absolutely can’t be hygienic at all. also wait is that Inko??

(ETA: pretty sure it is her. she got all of one line smdh.)

Iida is all “thank god Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight pulled through, I thought for sure he was a goner back there”

for the record this is actually really sweet to see how relieved he is. he’s one of the few people who saw the original injury close up, back when he was still at the battlefield and unconscious, so I imagine it really did freak him out quite a bit

JIROUUUUUU

“sometimes I just like to stand here and tug on my imaginary suspenders, what of it”

how come you guys get to loiter around Deku’s room but Kacchan doesn’t. god fucking dammit. AND WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

I BET KACCHAN COULD WAKE HIM UP FROM HIS COMA WITH THE POWER OF RIVAL INTENSITY!! BUT NOOOOOOOO, [is dragged away back to my fort]

OH MY GOD!?!

"this seems to be an entirely normal and above-board situation that we have just stumbled onto”

I see Jeanist comes from the Iida Tenya school of respectfully using people’s full names

Jeanist becoming one of the main characters is the best thing to ever happen to this series

EXCUSE YOU, IIDA

BUT I’M SURE HE’D MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR KACCHAN THOUGH!! [elbowing my way back out of the fort] HAWKS, PLEASE --

DON’T GO ALL OMINIOUSLY PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER ALL ON YOUR OWN GODDAMMIT

“there’s absolutely no way this angry wriggling shoulder burrito kid here could answer literally all of my questions, so I’ll just ignore him”

OH MY GOD WE’RE FINALLY CUTTING BACK TO HIM BUT THE CHAPTER IS ENDING

[jumps up, throws a folding chair at Iida and the rest of the gang, and then runs]

oh my god. actually this chapter was awesome. but I’m so fucking mad at this cliffhanger though lol

at least we got a couple of answers! and some hints and teases! poor Deku looks so worn out even though he’s asleep dlwkjl my little green baby. and is it just me or is his quirk activated?? All Might’s all “I can feel it” as if it isn’t obvious just looking at him, why are you trying to be all mysterious dude

anyway! so at least we finally have confirmation and a date for those vestige antics at long last. looking forward to meeting Mister The Fourth next week so we can finally ask him “hey dude, what the fuck”

#bnha 303 #takami keigo #hawks #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #endeavor #best jeanist #todofam #bakugou katsuki #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Invisible String (Harry Styles x Reader)

(Soulmate AU)

A/N: Got inspired with this while listening to Taylor Swift’s Invisible string, hence the title. It took me a really long time to write this, hope you like it! 

Warnings: none

Summary: In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red thread, how would you find yours?

“Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I’ll pull him to me.”

“Honey, you know that’s not how it works, right?” My Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm, she looked genuinely concerned for me.

“Mom, you got it easy. You were fifteen when you bumped into dad. Literally. And here I am, twenty-six and still don’t know who is my soulmate,” My voice rising slowly as I pushed her hand away from me, I was getting rather frustrated having the same conversations over and over again.

“Oh don't be so dramatic, your Grandma was thirty-five when she met your Grandpa and you know how happy they were. You'll find him," my mom tried to reassure me. Again. “Or her," tilting her head to the side, she added as an afterthought.

I almost wanted to roll my eyes, my Grandma was a very patient lady, unfortunately, she didn't pass down the trait to me.

I had been waiting for my soulmate ever since I turned five and sort of understood the concept. Invisible red strings. Fate. The one.

My parents sat me down one fine day and explained to me how two people that were meant to be together were connected by an invisible red thread tied to their little fingers.

All I asked them at the time was if the thread was invisible, how did people know it was red. They told me I'll find out in due time.

I still didn't know the answer to that.

But after my five-year-old brain had absorbed the newly received information, I got obsessed with finding my soulmate.

There was something incredibly reassuring about having someone only meant for you. But wrapped around it was the uncertainty of how and when and you will find them, or even if you'll find them.

After that day, I would constantly find myself reaching for my pinky finger, a calmness washing over me, a hope to find someone, and call them mine.

My friends and I spent hours discussing our soulmates, what they would look like, how would we meet them, and so on. Our parents would look at us and coo, mostly finding this adorable, reminding them of a time when they were young and probably did the same.

That's how things worked.

I was ten and had left my obsession behind. I still found comfort in my little finger during times of sadness and anger.

One night in the middle of June, after a big fight with my parents, I ran up to my room, plopped myself on the bed, and let loose all the emotions building up in me. 

It was a few hours later when my breathing calmed down and the tears on my cheeks dried when my left hand reached for my pinky, and my fingers felt a soft textured thread reaching out from it.

My eyes widened as I looked down at my hands but found nothing, only my fingers wrapped around what seemed to be air, a few inches in front of my right hand's littlest finger.

I could not comprehend what had happened and chalked it up to delusions due to my tiredness.

The next morning I woke up, groggy, my hands automatically reached for the supposed string that I could feel the previous night and found that I could still touch it. "Maybe I am still tired," I convinced myself before sleeping for another few hours.

It was after spending a few days just feeling out the string that I realised I could touch the red string of fate.

My parents didn't believe so, they thought I was still a delusional kid with my head up in the clouds. They found it cute for a couple of days, happy that I was still interested in finding a soulmate, but then my constant attempts at convincing them that it was true got annoying for them.

No one seemed to believe me, and my friends thought I was lying for attention.

Nothing like this had ever happened. Fate worked mysteriously, fate worked behind the scenes. No one was supposed to know how, it just worked. I must be lying.

Since no one believed me, I found solace in my thread, in my soulmate. I tried pulling the string, hoping the one on the other side would reply, would pull it towards them as well. But nothing.

I guessed maybe they couldn't feel the string as well, just like everybody else. But my soulmate was not like everybody else. If I could touch the thread then they could as well, after all, our souls were connected. Maybe they just didn't want me.

I never stopped though, just like my pinky had become my safety blanket, I found a new comfort in pulling the thread, twisting it between my fingers, still praying that my other half could feel it, even if they didn't respond.

I would spend hours trying to follow the thread, but it seemed endless and at the time, my block was where my world ended. My soulmate was way out of my reach.

Three months later, in the middle of my English class, I felt it. A tug. I looked down, before realising I could not see it. I almost laughed at my stupidity, but it was clear as day, my soulmate had responded. 

My head shook as a slow smile crept up my face and I couldn't stop the sigh leaving my mouth. My classmates probably worried about my sanity, shaking my head and smiling at nothing sitting in the centre of the classroom. But I didn't care.

Knowing that there indeed was someone on the other side was like finding a piece of land after a lifetime at sea. I didn't waste a second to reply and received a tug again. I smiled, he was here and he was here to stay.

It was the start of something new. Every time, one of us felt down or lonely or happy we would pull at our thread, we now had someone to share those moments with.

I didn't know if his family or friends knew about us, but it felt like our secret.

Over the years, we formed this new language between us. Sometimes, we would pull the thread at the same time, or wait for the other to respond but no one would. It was uncoordinated and messy, like two drunk people attempting to dance, but it was ours.

I was eighteen when I figured a way to enhance our communication. Morse code.

It was some random detective show that gave me the idea and it seemed perfect. I just didn't know how to communicate this to him.

It took me less than a month to learn morse code. After I was done learning, I tried pulling at the thread in a specific pattern ‘Hey Soulmate’.

He wouldn't understand the message, but I prayed he would realise what it was.

He did.

Somehow, my soulmate had lost the ability to disappoint me. I smiled at the thought.

It took weeks of incomprehensible back and forth between us for us to finally be able to understand each other. It was hard, but we achieved it.

I realised two things from our exchanges.

One- My soulmate was a dork, his dad jokes were endless and two- I loved every second of it.

He would start pulling at the string in the middle of the night and I had to grab the notepad and pencil from my bedside table and decipher his messages half-asleep. And It would end up being some lame knock-knock joke.

You bet I laughed every time.

 Which always led me to wonder what it would be like to actually be with him. How would he be as a partner? Would he hold my hand walking down the street? Would he kiss me in front of his friends? What nickname would he give me or would he give me any at all?

I spent most of my time talking to Harry, whose name I had learnt in one of our earliest full conversations.

My parents let it slide, believing it to be some teenage issues. My friends were lucky enough to have found their own soulmates at a young enough age and were too busy being in love.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him one night.

I kept staring at the neon stars on my ceiling. Trying to conjure his face in my mind as I waited for his response, but didn't feel the now familiar tug that carried his replies.

It seemed like hours before my little finger was finally pulled at. With my notepad and pencil at the ready, I was prepared to write. “A musician”.

The corners of my mouth were pulled upwards and I imagined a young faceless man with a guitar in his hand performing in a stadium for thousands of people.

A laugh left me when I pictured him ending his concert with a final joke. People would groan at him but laugh nonetheless. They would love him too.

My mind then wandered to a future where he was performing at the Madison Square Garden, people screaming I love you from the audience. A huge smile gracing his lips. He would then came home late at night after the concert and lay down on the bed next to me. He would wrap his arm around my sleeping form and whisper I love you in my ear and I would respond with a sleepy mmph. He would smile down at me and eventually fall asleep too.

I looked down at the thread which was still pulling but all I could catch was a question mark. I cursed myself for not paying attention and asked him to repeat his question.

“What about you, Lovie?"

I stilled. Lovie? A nickname. So he was a nickname kinda guy.

I almost forgot to reply to him. But then instantly hit him back with a “Journalist”.

My pinky was pulled again, “Maybe that is how we will cross paths”.

I liked the thought.

"Owww," my right hand was pulled harshly when I stood up to submit my English assignment, causing me to fall forward. I was confused for a few seconds, trying to piece what caused it, but found nothing.

I looked around as everyone was laughing at my clumsiness, still dazed, I stood up and placed my essay on my teacher's table who looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parted to whisper "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head and returned to my seat, head down and my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Before it clicked, Harry. I couldn't believe he made me fall down on purpose, or maybe it was an accident.

“Sorry”

I shook my head at my clumsy partner and focused on my teacher who had started talking about something else already.

I wasn't going to let the incident go that soon. During our next conversation, instead of sending him a reply, I held onto the soft, invisible thread tightly and yanked it towards me.

Not getting a reply soon after, I started worrying I had actually hurt him. Panic flowed through me, this was an insane idea, why would I do that? What if he was driving? What if he was at a height?

“Owww”

I admit I laughed, the incident wasn't hilarious enough to call for that level of laughter, but I did.

All my panic had immediately flown out of me. I loved it; before he pulled his end of the string again and made me fall down.

Thus, welcomed a new addition to our language.

We would yank our strings during mid-conversations, making the other fall down wherever they were. Did injury turn us on? We never tried to guess.

~

Moving to college was harder than I thought, I didn't know if I was moving closer to Him or farther away.

I considered asking him where he lived, but shook the thought away, we had promised not to reveal to each other any of our identifiable qualities except for our first names. We wanted to leave some things up to the true mastermind, Fate.

Going to New York University was my dream. Receiving my acceptance letter was an emotional moment for me, it took my Mom like an hour to calm me down enough to actually read the letter.

So, physically being here, standing in my dorm room was another level of excitement. I was ready to bedazzle the world with my writing.

"Ouch," someone came rushing into me from the back. I turned around to look at the person who bumped into me, only to find a five-foot-something, brown-haired girl standing in front of me, rubbing her forehead.

"Hi."

"Hello, you must be the roommate. I'm Olivia, what about you?" Her eyes held a curious gaze, as she extended her right hand towards me.

"Y/n," I placed my hand in hers and shook it lightly, having a good feeling about her.

"Y/n, brace yourself, we're gonna be best friends for a really long time."

I knew it.

During my time at NYU, Olivia really did become my best friend, she introduced me to her soulmate, Ashley, who was somehow an even bigger bundle of joy than Liv. I didn't know that was possible.

"Who're those guys?"

"Hmm?"

"In your poster, I have always wanted to ask you that," I pointed at the big poster Liv had stuck on her wall in our first year.

She looked at me, her brows raised up to her forehead and her mouth agape, "You don't know One Direction?"

"I mean, I have heard of them. Are they any good?" I remembered my friends back home making me listen to a song of theirs, "What makes you beautiful', it was catchy but I never dug deeper into them. I didn't even know why.

"Only the best," her mouth was set into a hard line, but her forehead was covered in creases as though she was thinking deeply about something.

"Come on, I'll show you their songs. I don’t why we’ve never done this before.”

This commenced a whole night of one direction albums, music videos, their documentary, and their recent concert film. She even called Ashley to our room, which began an intense lesson on the fandom ships, theories, and dramas. It was a busy night.

By the next day, I was more knowledgable about one direction than I had ever intended to be. I didn't it mind it though, I got to further learn the inner makings of my best friend.

I had to admit, I was a little partial towards Harry Styles, his name had become a personal favourite of mine. Plus, he was cute.

I also noticed how clumsy he was on stage. Constantly falling down, mid-performances. It was hilarious. Olivia told me that's just how he was. Goofy, dorky, always telling lame jokes.

“Do you know one direction?”

I waited for his reply, this one took longer than our previous ongoing conversation. I didn't like it when he replied late.

“Yes.”

“Olivia introduced me to them.”

“Who do you like the best?”

I didn't even have to think about it at all, “Harry styles.”

I hoped he was smiling, where ever he was.

“Really? Not my personal favourite.”

That idiot. My face was hurting from smiling so much. I wondered how I would even be in this guy's presence without physically hurting my cheeks.

But I knew I wouldn't mind it, as long as I could be with him.

“Who do you like then?”

“You.”

~

I had never known how successful my dream of becoming a journalist could be. All I knew of back then was my talent for writing and my passion to make my voice heard. And it was all I had ever needed.

Rolling Stone was a magazine only a few could say they were not familiar with. And even fewer who wrote for it.

I was one lucky girl, who worked through countless unpaid internships before finally landing a job at this prestigious place. I had written quite a few articles under the politics section of the magazine.

I kept up with Harry over the years, at this point I knew basically everything about him, except for what he did for a living, where he lived, and who he was. But I loved him. And I waited for him, even if did get tiring at times.

Everywhere I went, it felt like everyone had found their soulmates except for me. I was the one girl standing alone in the middle of a dance floor during a couple's song.

All these years he still seemed none the closer to me.

We still found joy in tripping each other during random hours of the day though; Falling for him was the highlight of my day.

~

"Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I'll pull him to me."

I had a rocky relationship with my parents, they had never believed in me, too busy in their own love story to pay attention to their only daughter. I couldn't hold it against them though if you had something as beautiful as they did, why would you focus on anything else.

I sigh in bitterness as my Mom rambled on about how she met my Dad. Although I had heard the story a billion times, it still made me smile. Then, reminded me how I didn't have that.

My phone started vibrating next to me, I looked at it to find it was my boss calling me. I tilted my head upwards, trying to recall if I had informed her of my visit to my parents' house. I had.

Confused, I picked up the phone, "Y/N, you need to come to the office now. We need you to take over the article Rob Sheffield was supposed to write," my boss's commanding voice instantly hits my ears, making me flinch backwards.

"Wait, what?"

"Rob had an urgent business to attend to and you are the only replacement available." Her voice carried her usual urgency.

"But Rob is a music journalist, I write politics." Her words were rushing past me and it was getting harder for me to keep up.

"Obviously I know that, but as I said you are the only replacement available, everyone else is already working on their pieces. Come to the office and get your assignment. Now." When I was told my boss did not joke around, they were not kidding.

As soon as she hung up, I started packing up my stuff. I explained to my Mom about the situation, her shoulders slumped, I knew she really wanted to spend more time with me, but she sighed, nodding her head in understanding.

Walking into the Rolling Stone's office every day still brought me back to my first day here. When I was a twenty-three-year-old naive girl, with a heart full of determination and a head full of ideas.

The elevator doors opened and my eyes fell upon the old Rolling Stone covers hung from the wall, they looked like gold records in a music studio. I walked down the lobby to the reception and asked Ally if my boss was available.

I knocked at her door, patiently waiting for her to invite me in. Three years later and I was still deathly afraid of her.

"Y/n, you are going to interview Harry Styles. You'll leave for LA tomorrow morning, and meet him first thing after landing, hang out with him a couple days, get to know him, this is going to be the cover story. I know music is not your department but right now I really don't have any other option. Do your research all day today, we'll publish the article in next month's issue. It better be good." She clicked her fingers, pointing them at me and then shooed me away from the entrance of her cabin.

"Harry Styles huh," I walked towards my desk remembering all the late-night dance parties I had with Liv and Ashley during college, blasting all of One direction's hits, discussing fan theories and whatnot.

The familiar pull nay yank brought me back to the present, on my office floor, with my colleagues watching over the all too familiar scene.

A smile graced my lips, at this point I had lost the ability to feel shame. I sat down on my desk and pulled at my thread.

“You will pay for this.”

“I am ready when you are, Lovie.”

How was our relationship ever going to work if I was ready to melt any time he called me that.

I knew he was waiting for me to trip him, but I didn't. I would get him when he wouldn't expect it. Not today sir, not today.

I went to start researching on Harry Styles and preparing my questions for tomorrow. A groan escaped my lips as I slammed my forehead on the table, this was not enough time.

Harry Styles was a multi-millionaire, platinum record selling artist with millions of fans. He was portrayed to be this womaniser, who played with people's hearts. But, the first thing I learnt about him during my research was of his kind heart.

I surfed through countless videos of his interactions with fans, clips from his concerts, conversations with paparazzi and not once did I find him in a bad mood or as someone less than the absolute model of perfection. Everybody had bad days, well everyone but Mr.Styles apparently.

As someone only writing about the people in power; the politicians, the stark deviance from my usual subjects was a well-welcomed change.

He was a part of various charities, always preaching about love and kindness. Honestly, I was a little jealous of how lucky his soulmate was, to have someone like him.

After reading possibly everything I could about Harry, I started working on the questions I would ask him. I was determined to know how he managed to be the way he was. How he remained calm even after constantly being harassed by fans and paps alike; How after all these years, he still didn't let the fame get to his head.

I woke up the next morning feeling weird tingles in my stomach, I wasn't able to determine if it was good or bad. I went about my usual routine trying to ignore the tingly feeling. I read through my questions again, I had formed a sort of admiration for Harry (the singer) and I wasn't going to embarrass myself when it mattered the most.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time, feeling good with the outfit I went for- a tan, high-waisted lace-up jumpsuit. My confident outfit seemed like compensation for the nerves running through my body.

My mind wandered to my soulmate for a second, wondering what he must be up to right now. I looked up at myself in the mirror again and saw the smile on my face. Only for you, partner. I shook my head, picked up my suitcase and left for the airport.

The last thing I wanted to do after a six-hour flight was to meet an international celebrity, but I shrugged, a job was a job.

The deli we were supposed to meet at was a quaint place, the two ladies working there were incredibly sweet. They greeted me with the widest smiles and escorted me to a semi-secluded corner when I told them about the purpose of my visit. They doted about Harry, who I concluded was a regular here, calling him 'my love'.

Harry hadn't arrived yet and I was starving, the fragrance of different foods in the deli wafted to my nose, serving as a constant reminder of my hunger. The ladies whose names I had learnt to be Gloria and Raisa noticed my condition and offered to bring me a sandwich, but I declined the offer, not wanting to order before Harry's arrival, considering it to be a bit rude.

But, ever the saviour Harry entered the deli soon after, I admit I released a long breath in relief, I would finally get to order.

Harry's presence was like a force of nature, no one could escape it. I stood up from my seat, without thinking twice as if something compelled me to honour it. I couldn't pry my eyes away from him, and I didn't want to. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Every step of his brought him closer to me, the weird tingles I had been feeling all morning intensified, crawling up to every part of my body. I wanted something, anything to help me ground myself.

My hands frantically searched around for my thread, and as soon as my fingers made contact with the string of fate, the familiar calm washed over me.

Maybe in my frantic state, I pulled the string too hard. I winced, almost closing my eyes as Harry's expression changed into one of panic, his eyes widening as he fell forward. I worried about my Harry as well, realising how hard I must have pulled the thread.

Oh.

OH.

I rushed towards Harry, helping him up. When my hand touched his bicep, a warmth started flooding through my veins, locking eyes with him, I knew he was experiencing the same thing as well.

We both looked down towards our hands and a red string was seen connecting our pinkies. We met each other's eyes again.

"Hi," he gave me a toothy grin. I could die a thousand times for his smile.

"Hello," his eyes, a little sunken, were the most beautiful green I had ever seen, I could spend a lifetime getting lost in them.

"Well since I've already fallen for you, how abou' we go out to eat something. Oh wait, we're already here." His chest was out, and his eyes gleamed at his statement, he was weirdly proud of his jokes.

My entire body shook, I didn't know if I was laughing at his ‘Pick up line' or the situation. I was standing in front of my soulmate, whom I've pined after all my life, only for him to turn out to be Harry fucking Styles.

His brows furrowed in concern as I continued laughing, even he realised his joke was not funny enough to prompt this big of a guffaw.

I took a step back, my hands reaching up to rest on the sides of my face, tears were streaming down my face from laughing too much. Harry's contorted face making me laugh louder. I could not stop.

He reached out his hands and wrapped them around mine. I noted how big his hands were compared to mine, warmer too. "Hey, are you okay?"

 I nodded my head, taking deep breaths to calm myself. When I seemed to have a hold on my laugh, another round burst from me. I started shaking again.

At this point, Harry had given up on me and started laughing as well. We were garnering unneeded attention but we couldn't stop. I noticed from the corner of my eyes, Gloria and Raisa were hovering around us protectively, not letting anyone come near us. Angels.

After several minutes or hours, we stopped for good. And even though my stomach was hurting like a bitch, my smile couldn't have been wider.

"So, it's you huh," I started, bringing Harry to my table, "My soulmate heh." My palms were getting sweaty, I tried to subtly wipe them on my pants.

He sat across me, reaching out and grabbing my hands in his again. I changed our hand positions, interlocking my fingers with his. The red string between us lengthening and shortening constantly, conforming to our movements.

He nodded, a smile ever-present on his face. He released a small breath, his shoulders slumped slightly, "I've dreamed of this moment for years. It's good to finally meet you, Lovie."

A weird gurgle-like sound left my mouth. My eyes widened as I covered my mouth, horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

He just looked amused, raising his eyebrows as if to ask me what the fuck was that.

"It's just, it keeps hitting me that this moment is real. That you are here in front of me and you are the Harry Styles-" my eyes continued to dart down to the striking red colour of the thread I was so accustomed to not seeing "-But like you are also just Harry, who I've known all my life." 

"I get tha', I do," he nodded fervently, "All my life, I pictured a faceless girl when I imagined a life with you. Now everything seems complete, like the final piece of the puzzle has been placed and I can see my life as a whole picture and I see you with me," he then shrugged his shoulders, wanting to be seen nonchalant.

Hearing him reflect on everything that I've been feeling as well, brought tears in my eyes. He noticed my eyes getting glassy,

"Was it too much too soon?" His fingers were slightly tapping on the table, he kept looking down at our joined hands and biting his lips. My eyes fell to his lips, I hadn't noticed how pink they were.

"No, no, not at all," my hold on his hands tightened as I shook my head, trying to ease his nerves as well.

I went silent for a minute, not sure if I should continue before starting to tap a pattern on the table. One I hoped he would get without having to write it down.

“I love you.”

If the smile on his face were to say anything, it was that he got it. Of course, he would.

Our fingers started to tingle, pulling our attention towards them as we watched the red string starting to disappear.

When it seemed to be fully gone, I traced my hand around the table, checking if I could still feel it, I couldn't. It had really gone away.

I knew this would happen, but it didn't make saying goodbye any easier. Harry brought our hands together again, catching my attention again, "I don't need the string any more, I have you in my arms now." He rested his forehead on mine, breathing slowly.

He then brought my hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles. Causing a soft gasp to leave my lips. I swear he would kill me one day.

"I love you too, Lovie."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #soulmate au #fluff #harry styles fluff #invisible string #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

[toomanyrobins]

a little birdie told me pt. 10

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of alcohol abuse

Word Count: 1.8k

series masterlist // next part

Y/N was in the kitchen when she heard someone return home. She had been sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at a glass of whiskey. She had poured it to settle her nerves, but had yet to pick it up. Pepper walked in and immediately could tell that something was bothering her daughter. She saw the glass and slowly slid it out of Y/N’s hands, “What’s wrong? I thought last night was a success. Did something happen?” The younger woman nodded and refused to meet Pepper’s eyes. It didn’t take much for the intuitive woman to guess what was ailing her daughter. She nodded, “You finally realized you are in love with Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to be,” Y/N wailed as she slammed her forehead onto the island, “ow.”

“Why is this such a bad thing?”

“Because the last person I was with was a terrible person,” Birdie grumbled, “I had every intention of staying single forever to avoid feeling like shit every again.”

“Honey, that’s insane. Anyone with eyes can see that Steve is disgustingly in love with you and would move mountains to make you happy.”

“It’s just so soon. Too soon.”

“There’s no timeline for this kind of thing. When you know, you know.” Pepper laughed to herself, “The funniest thing is that when I confronted your father about the arranged marriage, he told me that the plan was for you and Steve to get married.”

Y/N shot her head up and nearly toppled off the stool, “What? He picked Steve for me? I—I have to go.”

Y/N was trying to keep her head on straight as she walked into George’s office. The entire drive over, she had tried to calm down and approach this with some levelheadedness. Before she could even sit down across from the desk, that plan was thrown our the window, “I need answers and I don’t think Dad will tell me everything. Why were you going to marry me off to Steve?”

George sighed and leaned forward, “First of all, I’ve told your father that you should’ve been told about all of this. The truth of the matter is that we needed stability in the families and this was a way to bring us together. HYDRA had started gaining power and your marriage was a way to secure some balance and open up channels that had previously been closed off to us. Also, we had seen the two of you together. You got on well. Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know if I can stay here. Apparently, everyone has decided I’m Jamie’s mom. No kid deserves to be stuck with me as their mother.”

He leaned back in his chair, “He really did a number on you.”

Y/N felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs but she tried to play dumb, waiting to see how much he knew, “Who?”

“You think I don’t know things, Birdie? I’ve got your medical records from your hospital visit. I know that your hospital visit wasn’t a one time thing. I know about the miscarriage. I may not know his name, but I will soon.”

“Ho—how?

“I'm a Barnes. A third of the group that runs New York. You think I can’t get information?”

“Have you told anyone?” They both knew who Y/N was truly worried about.

“I haven’t told Steve or Tony. You should though. I highly doubt they would be mad at you for anything,” his voice softened, “You were abused, Birdie. Nothing that he did to you is your fault.”

Her nails were digging into her palm, trying to focus on anything else, “I let him kick me in the stomach. I didn’t even try to stop him. What kind of fucked up, evil person does that?”

“You’re not evil. You’re hurting and have been for a while. I don’t think running will solve anything for you. Are you truly capable of leaving Jamie behind? Your family? Can you leave Steve when you love him?”

Y/N looked at her godfather, “I don’t love Steve.”

He laughed, “You used to be better at lying. He has always brought you back down to earth. I thought a match between the two of you would settle you down. Steve even agreed to it, but he stipulated that you had to go to college first and that you had to agree. He couldn’t force it on you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. She thought that he had just been hiding the marriage from her. Never had she considered that he knew he was her future husband, “He knew the whole time? Why would he want to marry me?”

“Of course, he knew. God knows why, because you were insane, and still are. He was ready to marry you. Clearly he thought you could make each other happy.”

“He didn’t tell me he knew it was him the whole time. I just thought he knew you were marrying me off.”

“Seems he wanted a chance to romance you all on his own, but you were gone before he got the chance.”

“This is so much information,” Y/N rubbed her temples.

George poured himself a drink, “I was like you for a really long time. I fought with my father every time I saw him, and I spent most of my teens and twenties drunk and alone. It’s a sad, lonely life that you have an opportunity to avoid. Take a chance, make mistakes. It’ll be worth it.”

Y/N sat there for a minute, trying to absorb all of the information that had been thrown at her. The office door burst open and Tony came in, “Good, your mother said you’d be here. I need you to do something.” Y/N’s nerves immediately felt like they were on fire. The moment her father had that look on his face, it was a problem, “There is a deal coming up and we need to present a united front. With the rumours swirling since your return, we’ve discussed and think the best move is for you to marry Steve.” 

“Tony—,” George tried to warn him that it wasn’t the time. The whole office was frozen as she absorbed the information. 

The laugh that broke the spell was harsh when Y/N realized he wasn’t kidding, “Oh my god. OH MY GOD! That talk about not wasting my life was just a load of crap.” She whirled around to Tony, “You will never learn, will you? I am not some piece of property that you can trade!”

Her father tried to walk closer but she stopped him. He continued anyway, “What is your objection to Steve, exactly? He’s a good man...mostly. We thought he'd be a good match for you three years ago and you are even closer now.”

Y/N started to walk towards the door but she turned, “I knew about your plans for me then. It’s part of the reason I left. You move people around like pawns and don’t seem to know or care that your choices affect us. All I’ve ever wanted is a say in my life and every fucking time I think maybe it’ll be different, you manage to prove me wrong. So congratulations, you continue to fuck it up.” She stared unblinkingly at Tony, “I think it goes without saying that I’ll be taking you up on your offer.” 

Y/N walked down into the Ivory bar on a mission. She found her brother in his usual booth with the group. She marched up to the table, “Evening, gentlemen.” They all nodded at her before she turned her attention to Steve. She planted her hands on the table, “Look here, Rogers, you can just move on to the next girl and stop wasting my time and yours. Do me a favor and lose my number. I’ll never marry you.” 

She didn’t look back as the men watched her through the window. She swung her leg over her bike and shot off. No one said a word and instead turned to look at Tony and George who had come down after her.

After she had left, Y/N pulled off near Central Park and parked. She wandered for hours until she bumped into someone. She had felt the weight of someone’s gaze for a while. Spinning around, she expected to see a familiar guard and was ready to tell them off. Instead of one of Tony’s men, it was the person who haunted her nightmares. “Better watch where you’re going, darling.” The voice made her blood run cold. Y/N was looking into the eyes of Brock Rumlow, the devil himself.

She stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You think I’d just let you leave?” Brock grabbed her arm and jammed a finger into her stomach, “You’ve got my kid in there.”

She laughed in his face, “No, I don’t.” He gritted his teeth and tightened his on her arm. Y/N knew that she was going to have bruises later. 

“You killed our baby?” she shook her head, but Brock was blinded by rage. He shook her, “Don’t lie to me, you traitorous whore.”

“You beat me so badly that night that I lost the baby. There is no one to blame but you. And now, you have no claim over me.” Y/N wrenched her arm away, “You lose.”

“That’s where you are wrong, darling. What would Daddy Stark think of you running away to be with me? A member of HYDRA? Would they keep you if they knew the truth? You really would be a traitorous whore in everyone’s eyes.”

Y/N thought she was going to be sick. Brock was a member of HYDRA? She couldn’t believe she hadn’t known. This was so much worse than she could have imagined. “Stay away from me.” She turned and walked away.

He called after her, “I’ll be seeing you, baby!” The moment she rounded the corner, she took off in a run. Y/N’s thoughts flying as fast as she was down the streets. Once she was a block away, she cut off into an alley. She needed a moment to get her plan organized. As much as it pained her to admit it, Brock was probably right. If everyone knew the details about his connection to HYDRA, at minimum, she’d be exiled and never be able to see her family again. At worse, she’d be dead… a traitor to the Three Families. Y/N knew that there was only one thing she could do to make her position more secure and she hated it more than anything: she needed to marry Steve Rogers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@samwinter09

@founding-fuck-bois

@animegirlgeeky

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@spntiel

@marvelofwitch​

@hollandstanevans​

#avengers au #avengers imagine #toomanyrobins #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #mafia au #mafia!avengers #mafia!steve #mob!au #mob!avengers #mob!steve #steve rogers #steve rogers au #avengers #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #mafia!steve rogers

[bookwyrminspiration]

Response to an ask from Ophelia:

(this one is a little older and about many things like Tinker, minorities, daydreaming, tangents, etc.)

I am! I am very much alright with you sending me asks more frequently, whatever frequently means for you. I don't know how to properly convey to you that you truly aren't a burden or an inconvenience or anything like that, and that answering your asks is fun! I like getting to talk to you, and it's not going to be too much.

Tinker is a character that really interests me, and one who seems very neurodivergent to me, hence the analysis. I do, however, have a tendency to hold nd characters to a stricter standard than other characters which I'm trying to stop doing. But it's like a little "oo! You're supposed to be like me so I want to break you into even more pieces to fully understand and compare every aspect about you!" But even with her not fully matching up with my nd experience, she's still probably the character that I have the most fondness for because she does interact with the world differently. She has a "unique way of communicating" and sees value and worth in things that others don't. That's very vague but it's like the perfect building point. Though I also wasn't sure what minority she was supposed to be representative of when I first read the book (I think I read Flashback before I realized I had Funky Brain Syndrom, aka I'm nd), though now I'm assuming it's nd people, specifically autistic people.

Same! Characters only fitting into one minority, while it does happen, feels very rare and like? Where is the rest of them? And it does affect people! It makes people think they're too other, like hang on I can't be all these things when I'm already these one/two, when really it's completely normal to be a bunch! I kinda jokingly kept track of all the minorities I fit into at one point to be like "haha I'm collecting them!!" except it's just...normal. I am a normal number of minorities, but having characters who didn't fit into more than one or two made me think that any more was unreasonable. Also that thing about being influenced by fiction is very relatable. As a kid (and I guess still to this day) I would read a book and then just...absorb the characters. To the point that at the end of the year one of my teachers told me that she could like...see me grow/the difference every time I finished a book. Which was frequently so like I was constantly absorbing new people into my brain

Yes! I would love to see characters fitting into more than one minority and it's not seen as this big thing but instead as normal, because it is! And it isn't the center of their character, but it's acknowledged and influences them because it does affect who they are and how they see the world. Like, being queer isn't all I think about, but it will affect what I think of say, a movie with a romance plot in it. It's not a huge deal, but it is something that I see differently than others because I am queer!

Also, if you'd ever want to share your daydream world(s), you more than welcome to!

Thank you. You're words and compliments truly mean a lot to me, so thank you for all of it. I try to be kind to everyone I talk to, especially online. I am over the whole "I am a loner and push people away and nobody knows me and I guard my heart" kind of mindset that I accidentally absorbed from a few characters, so I'm trying to counteract that. Because I am not! I love people and I love helping people and sharing interests and information and being kind and appreciating things. And articulate! That's one of my favorite ways to be described, so thank you. Words--specifically writing--are where I can most effectively arrange my thoughts and communicate, so it's wonderful to know that I'm doing it well. Talking allows a lot of room for misunderstandings and forgetting things, but if I can write it down I can make things make sense! And I'm glad that at least some of it has been helpful to you, and that I can do things to make you more comfortable talking with me. You're doing a wonderful job describing your experiences as well! I know it can be hard to really get the complexity of thought and experiences into words, and even if it feels inadequate you're doing really well and being clear. And once again!! Thank you!! I do have a lot to say, and I take that as a complement. I spent a lot of my younger years staying quiet to observe how others interact and because I couldn't interact wrong if I wasn't interacting at all, but I have!! So many thoughts!! And I love so many things and I want to share them all. So yes, I have a lot to say.

I'm frequently the same way when it comes to tangents, and while I've kinda figured out how to have normal conversations, it definitely feels more natural to just...talk forever. And specifically about things that interest me. I find a way to bring Twilight into nearly everything, relate it to everything, because when I can do that it makes unpleasant interactions more exciting! And also already pleasant interactions more exciting! You haven't misinterpreted my character at all, you've actually nailed that part of it. I mean, just looking through my blog you can see how much I talk about everything at just the slightest cue. There's probably over 100,000 words worth of content on my blog that come directly from me talking at people. I'm glad you can be a little more yourself when talking to me, that it's fun. I have fun talking to you! I think I do a lot of the talking on my blog, especially since I so rarely reblog others' things (though I would like to do that more), so it's always nice to let someone else talk too.

You're not annoying me at all! And if you really want, you could send an entire 11 page essay. It might take me a hot minute to respond to it all, but there are no limits on ask length on this blog!

and drifting subject to subject isn't a bad thing, I think most of the things you discussed were all related to each other, but even if they weren't I don't mind. If this is your first step to talking about less negative things, then I'm very happy for you!! You don't have to force yourself to talk about happy things to balance out the negative or anything, I'm here to talk about anything you send me.

As for the nicknames, I don't mind them at all! I love personalized nicknames, like "hey I like you enough that i've created a name I'm going to call you that reminds me of you." You can all me whatever you'd like, whether that's my name (quil) or something else! Related to my url, to something about me, etc. I think nicknames are really fun, but quil doesn't lend itself to nicknames very well. Though I did know someone in ninth grade who called me Q for a few months because she couldn't remember my name but knew what letter it started with. And then there's another person I know who calls me Quinn whenever they see me because I think they have also forgotten my name.

My point is that you have my full permission to use nicknames for me!

also, I hope you're doing well! it's very nice to hear from you <33

#i had a four day weekend (well technically still in it as today is day four) so i've kinda been vibing #it's so strange to have snow days here #like I legit can't remember the last time it happened #i live in a /desert/ #and yes it snows in the desert but not usually enough for a snow day?? #then again the second day was just a 2 hour delay #but with my weird schedule a 2 hour delay means i have no class #so #fun things!! #i'm getting distracted wait #quil's queries #ophelia nonsie #long post

[avembrum]

The Fall of The Bird (Avengers Fanfic Prologue)

A/N: Hello! I am a new writer, so if there are things/mistakes anyone notices please kindly let me know.  I’ve had the Idea for this character and this story for a long time, and I’m finally coming around to bringing her story to life. I’m posting this first, and then I will make another post that has more information about the character herself and who her face claim is. I really hope people enjoy this and follow along with her story and come to love the character as much as I do! 

             -Bird   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Wordcount: 4.1k

                           Grand Est, France                            2011

Birds perched on a tree, sitting close together to try and absorb each other's warmth. The snow covering their feathers like a second skin. And a few hundred yards in front of them, was a small building. But little did the small birds know what happened inside of the seemingly abandoned area. It was tiny, the size of a small family home, and completely concrete and grey. It almost looked like it was supposed to be a doomsday bunker. 

The birds were confused, there hadn't been anyone to the bunker for as long as they had been there. But recently, about a few months ago, a few Jeep’s pulled in, and men in black uniforms filed out of the vehicles. They carried equipment inside. Provisions, weapons, and a strange machine. 

Of course, the birds would have no idea the machine would be. But I can tell you what the machine looked like. The first two pieces looked the same. Two poles, thick in width -maybe about 12 inches-  and tall in height, thought that looked like it could be adjusted. At one end of each pole seemed to be a small platform that could enable them to stand upright, and on the other end seemed to be metal boxes, possibly to store the wires for whatever the machine was. 

They only carried in two other things that seemed to be related to the machine, though those were in cases that took two men to carry each. So the little birds couldn’t see what they were. 

The birds enjoyed watching the men. They always had men standing around the outside of the building, holding large guns, and scanning the perimeter expertly. There was no way of telling what was happening inside, no windows were on the building, but they had transported a copious amount of computers to the building. So they can’t just be there for a vacation. 

Every few days men would pile into the Jeeps quickly, like they were being sent out on a mission. But they never seemed to be triumphant when they came back. Whatever they had been after each time must have gotten away. 

By now it had just hit the three month mark, and the sun was starting to set. The beautiful colors falling over the somewhat untouched French forest. It was peaceful, and serene. 

But the peacefulness was interrupted when their Jeep’s pulled in through the snow once again, the now familiar logo of some type of red skull with tentacles gleaming in the light. 

This time was different than the last times the Jeep’s had pulled in though. They were going faster, with a purpose. 

When they stopped, not a millisecond was spared before all doors on both Jeeps were flung open, and the soldiers poured out, though they returned with less men than they had left with yet again. 

The guard who had exited the drivers side of the Jeep’s closest to the building had his lips curled into a smirk. He relished in the sounds of the grunting and struggling coming from the other Jeep. His smirk only grew when the person the noises belonged to, was led around to his side of the Jeep. 

Her hands were bound behind her back, her snarl only became more intense than it had previously been when her eyes met the guard’s. He stepped closer, his steps confident but lazy, as well as how he was holding his rifle. 

“We finally caged the little bird,” Said the man, an air of victory around the young man as he stepped closer to the girl, who seemed to be a couple years younger. He lowered his eyes to her level, the guard holding her being sure to keep a tight grip on her arms. “Guess you were wrong, we did get you.” He mocked, his head tilting. 

His blue eyes seemed to gleam, while the girl’s one green and one blue ones might as well have been red with anger and annoyance. It only took a second. The girl reeled her head back before connecting her forehead with his nose. Enough force being given to make him yell and stumble back. His left hand left the underside of the barrel of his gun, and instead flew up to cup his bleeding nose. His head tilted back and his eyes shut tightly. 

The other guards all flinch, raising their guns to the girl, but she seemed to have no intention to move. She let out a huff through her nose and straightened her back, keeping her shoulders back. Her scowl never left though. 

The man brought his hand away from his nose and looked down to his glove clad hand, now soaked with blood that still dripped from his crooked nose. “You little bitch-“ He seethed, but didn’t continue the sentence any further before he was dropping his gun, the strap around his chest letting it fall to his side. 

He stepped toward the girl, this time his paces held no air of confidence, nor victory. Just hatred. His hand went to her shoulder, shoving her front half down to connect with his risen knee. The guard that had been holding the girl quickly let go. The impact of his leg sent her into the Jeep. Her head hit it with a harsh thud before her legs gave out and she slid down. 

Her nose was bleeding like his, but not broken. She had her eyes shut tightly as she let her body lean to the left and tipped her head forward to spit out the blood from her busted lip and bitten tongue. 

She took a few labored breaths, but they just sounded more like grunts as she leaned back against the vehicle. Her eyes opened to look up to the man, he still had no victorious smile, just heaving breaths and flared nostrils that hurt his face. 

The girl rose a brow at him, a few stray dark hairs falling from their ponytail. “You still hit like a little bitch, Harvey.” She mumbled hoarsely with a small lopsided smirk, but there was nothing but honesty behind her words. 

The guard -Harvey- growled. “Get her up!” He barked to the guard next to him, who wasted no time in lifting her up by her arms. She grunted, her head dipping down as she tried to make the ground seem like it was spinning. 

Before she knew it another blow was being sent to her gut, but she was able to tell it was by a fist. A wheeze  escaped her as she doubled over, probably only still on her feet because of the person holding her. 

Suddenly a voice cut through the air, it was high pitched- young. “Stop hurting her!” The girl's head snapped up, meeting the familiar eyes of the little boy being held by another Hydra guard. He must have only just been led around to this side of the cars. 

Harvey’s grin returned, showing his bloodstained teeth. “Oh, stop hurting your little friend?” He asked tauntingly. The young boy's terrified eyes stayed wide, but he said nothing. Harvey laughed, and moved his hand toward the girls, grabbing her ponytail and yanking her head back harshly so she was standing straight. 

Her teeth bared into a snarl, huffing breaths through her grinding teeth while looking at Harvey. But his eyes were fixed on the little boy’s. “She’s the reason you’re in this whole mess anyways kid,” Harvey turned his eyes to her, and took a moment to appreciate her utterly pissed off expression. “If it weren’t for her, you would have had a painless and easy death months ago.” He turned his head back to the child. “But now you’re in this shit.”

One of the men from the side finally spoke up. “Boss, they want her inside.” Harvey let out an exasperated breath. “Fine.” He snarled, releasing the girl’s dark hair. “Get them in.” 

The squadron all nodded and moved towards the door. The girl seemed too tired to be able to fight back as she was led, but the boy only went kicking and screaming. 

Harvey stayed back, watching as his team took the two to the door. His head snapped towards the tree line of the forest hearing a sound. 

The two birds nuzzled close together, perched on their branch in front of the bunker. The snow covering them like it was a second skin, but that was okay. They nuzzled closer together, observing the forest in front of them. The bullet came fast, shot with pinpoint accuracy to get both birds in the neck. 

They fell off of the perch. Into the snowy ground below them, the flakes clinging to them like a second skin. And there was no warmth from them anymore. Only the warmth of their blood soaking the cold snow under them. Staining the once pure white with red. 

Harvey only tilted his chin back as he holstered his hand gun, and made his way inside the building. 

<><>

Inside of the bunker was just as bland as the outside, except now there were bright white lights from the ceiling flashing onto The girl’s pale and sweaty skin. 

The boy had stopped struggling, his yelling now reduced to scared whimpering. He looked over his shoulder to the girl, who attempted to send him a reassuring smile, but with the swelling in her lip and ache that felt like it was consuming her entire body, it came out as more of a grimace. 

She only seemed to be able to regain full control of her muscles when they started moving the boy to a different room, and continued taking her down the hall. 

“Hey!” She snapped, trying to pull from the man’s hands. “Stop! Where are you taking him!? Stop- let me go!” She growled. “Asshat, if you don’t let me the hell go I’ll break something a lot worse than your nose!” She yelled, her words now directed at the man restraining her. 

She couldn’t do it, the boy yelled for her. Pleaded to her. Begged her, to help him. But she couldn’t. She clenched her jaw and tried one more time to pull away as she watched the door to the room close, but she couldn't. 

I should be able to, She thought angrily. I have enhanced strength for Christ’s sake! She should be able to do this, and she was tearing herself apart for not being able to. 

She had kept herself, and the boy, hidden from Hydra for four months. She was supposed to kill him. But she couldn’t. She had been able to kill everyone else she’d been tasked with. But this time they had tasked her to abduct and execute a nine year old boy, all because of who his father was. And when she wasn’t able to, she killed the rest of her team, took him, and ran. 

She had killed the person she believed she was in love with to keep the boy safe, and now it was going to be for nothing. And in her mind, it was her fault. 

Her bones felt like they were a million pounds. When they had finally gotten her in the fight a few hours ago, Harvey had stuck a needle in her neck, and injected her with something. But it made her groggy, and she wasn’t able to use her abilities. Everything felt slightly blurry. 

One of the guards opened a door at the end of the hall, bringing her out of her guilty thoughts. Her eyes snapped to every inch of the room, scanning anything they could take in. Computers lined one of the walls, on them were maps of the area and cities, and footage from street and shop security cameras. So this is where they’ve been tracking us, she thought. 

That thought seemed to be thrown into a trash bin of unimportance as her eyes landed on the metal table in the middle of the room, leather straps for arms, legs, and for someone’s neck attached to the surface. 

The girl’s eyes widened. “No.” Her eyes peeled themselves front the table when a voice came to her ears. “Subject B24.” His accent was thick German, and she recognized him, only barely, he was one of the doctors at the Hydra base she lived at for most of her life. He lifted his head from the clipboard in his hands, and a smile came onto his lips. “Jay, it’s good to see your face again.” He shook his head. “My apologies, I hear you do not go by that name anymore. What is it you call yourself now? Ah, Raven.” 

Memories suddenly flooded to the girl's mind, making tears gloss her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. 

Jay grunted as she leaned against the wall of the cave. It wasn't an ideal shelter, it was damp inside, and not exactly warm, and small. She had to crouch to walk inside, and it was only big enough for her to sit with her back to the wall and stretch her legs out before her toes touched the other side. 

The boy beside her stayed silent. His eyes wide as he stared down at his shoes. He had just been taken from his home by a small group of strange people and tied to a chair. The girl sitting next to him, only a couple of hours ago had a gun pointed to his temple. 

But she didn’t kill him. She had turned and used the bullets meant for him to kill the group that was with her and get him out. They had been chased when they tried to leave town, and after it all they ended here. 

The boy's eyes looked at the girl as she hissed in pain. She was leaned over her leg, looking at her thigh with a grimace. The boy wanted to ask what was wrong, but he stopped when the girl took a deep breath and started to push her fingers into the flesh of her thigh.

His eyes widened, now realizing her leg was wounded, and she was trying to get something out of it. It didn’t take long, it must not have been that far in there, before she pulled her hand away, a small shiny -blood coated- bullet between her thumb and forefinger. 

She threw the bullet to the other side of the cave and leaned her head back, closing her eyes while letting out a deep sigh. The boy gulped, realizing he could have been the one to get shot. 

They sat in silence for a while. And in that time the girl had torn some of her shirt and tied it just above the bullet wound on her thigh. 

The child didn’t like the silence, so he spoke. “What’s that?” He asked, grabbing the girl’s attention. He pointed to the necklace that rested against her chest when she made a face like she didn’t know what he was talking about. 

Her eye landed on the necklace, and she gently picked it up in her fingers. “A person very close to me made it for me.” She answered quietly. 

“Like a present?” The boy asked, tilting his head to the right, and scooting slightly to look at her. 

The girl let out a small chuckle, though there seemed to be little humor behind it. “Sort of.” 

The boy nodded and looked back down to his dirty sneakers. After a moment another question came to mind. “What’s your name?” He asked. 

The girl thought for a moment. She didn’t actually have a real name, or if she did she didn’t know it. The guards and scientists had always called her by her subject number. There was one name that had been given to her though. Her… lover, had given it to her when they were young, and it had kind of just stuck through the years. 

But everything he believed in was Hydra, and she didn’t know how well she could trust either him, or Hydra anymore. “Jay.” She finally answered. Deciding that that name would be easier for the kid to remember than her numbers. 

“Like… blue jay? Is that why you have the bird necklace?” He asked, pointing again to the pendant in her fingers. 

A sad smile came to the girl’s lips as she nodded to him. “Yeah.”

The boy frowned. “But blue jays are mean.” He said simply, catching the girl across from him off guard slightly. 

“They’re… what?” She asked, letting go of her pendant and leaning forward, her uninjured leg bending to rest her arm on. 

“Blue jays are meanies.” He said flatly. “Me and my grandma watch them through the window. They fight with other birds, and steal their food. They’re mean. But you’re not.” 

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she chuckled, actually finding something humorous now. “Alright then,” She tilted her head up at him. “What kind of a bird am I?”

The boy thought for a moment, looking at her intently, only making the corner of the girl’s mouth quirk a little more.

The kid smiled when he seemed to get it. “A raven!” The girl raised a brow, wanting him to explain. “They're bigger than a lot of other birds, and you were a lot stronger than those guys from before, and they're not mean, but they attack if someone gets close to their nest.�� 

The dark haired girl tilted her head. “How do you know all that?” She asked. 

The boy shrugged, looking down at the ground once more. “My tutor gave me a book about them once, I just remembered it.”

The girl smiled. “Alright.” The boy snapped his head to attention. “Raven it is.” 

He grinned, his little white teeth almost blinding her. He stuck out his hand. “Hi Raven, I’m Ivan.” 

Raven smiled back. “Hi Ivan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Raven was bought from her thoughts by the sound of the doctor’s clipboard being set down. “No answer? That’s alright. We don’t need one to get started.”

Her eyes widened as the doctor nodded to the guard holding her, and he started moving to the table. “Wait! What are you doing? Stop!” She hated begging, but her emotions felt like they were overflowing, and her body felt like it was about to fall apart. And she really, really, hated doctors appointments. 

The guard uncuffed her, and even if she felt like she had enough strength to fight back, they didn’t give her enough time before another guard lifted her onto the table and they got to work on the buckles of the restraints. 

Her chest heaved as she watched what people around her were doing, but her line of sight was cut off as the doctor stood in front of her with a sweet smile that she knew was a lie. He even looked like your typical evil doctor, with the little circle glasses, white lab coat, balled head and wrinkles. 

The doctor started to work on the restraint that would go around her throat. “You are one of Hydra’s best Agent’s Jay. It would be a waste to get rid of that talent just because you’ve lost your loyalty, but lucky for you,” His smile widened. “We have ways of forcing you to remember who your loyalty lies to.” 

When he tried to slip the leather through the metal buckle, Raven lifted her head and spat in his face. He retracted, a disgusted expression on his face as he wiped the saliva off of the lens of his glasses and his cheek. 

Raven glared at him, her chest heaving. “My name’s Raven, asshole.” Soon her head was slammed back onto the table. She groaned and when she opened her eyes she was met by Harvey’s smirk once again. He must have wiped the blood from his face, because most of it was gone now, that didn’t get rid of the ugly crook on the bridge of his nose he now had. 

Harvey held her head down while he buckled the leather strap over her neck. Raven didn’t look at him, she kept her eyes on the ceiling. She grunted had Harvey’s hand grabbed her jaw, forcing her head to turn to him. “I’ll enjoy this, sweetheart.” He smiled, patted her cheek, and stepped away. 

Raven’s eyes widened, her mind started running at the thought of what was about to happen. Though it couldn’t have been much worse from anything else they had done to her in the past. 

“Jay,” She heard the doctor speak. She turned her head to see him opening one of two silver cases set on one of the tables that held some of the many computer monitors. “I’m sure you are aware of the Winter Soldier, no?”  

It all clicked as soon as he motioned for someone stronger to pick up whatever was in the case.

She knew who the Winter Soldier was, and how they kept him in line. Brainwashing. She had seen it happen once, and hated every second of it. She let her eyes linger on one of the headgear pieces only for a moment before looking to the pole that was slightly behind her. There was one on each side of the table. This machine looked different than the one they had used on him. 

“Now, as you can see, we are not in one of our better facilities,” The doctor explained as the men who had grabbed the piece from the case started to attach it to the larger part at the end of the pole. “So we were only able to transport one of our earlier models, but it will still do its job nicely.”

Raven got herself together, replacing her terrified expression with another glare. “So, what? You put my brain in a blender. Make me a zombie like the One Armed Slave, and freeze me for a few years at a time and pull me out whenever you need someone killed?” 

The doctor chuckled. “We have programmed this one a little better than the Asset’s has been. Though I will give them credit, it is good work for such an early time.” He smiled, like this was an amusing conversation between a friend. 

Raven felt her panic start to rise as they began attaching the second piece on the other side. “And Ivan-the kid, what will you do with him?” She demanded. 

This time Harvey spoke up from where he stood with his arms crossed. “We’re finishing the job you couldn’t.” He grinned. 

Raven’s eyes grew. “No, no you can’t do this!” She pulled at the restraints. “He’s just a kid! You can’t do this!” She screamed. 

Harvey took a couple steps closer. “Oh we’ve already started.”

Raven opened her mouth to shout back, but wasn’t able to, because a rubber mouth guard was being shoved between her lips, and the two sides of the machine were being lowered to the height of the table. 

Raven’s lungs and heart felt like they would pop at the rate they were working. Sweat beaded from her hairline and neck -well, from everywhere-, more tears started to build up in her eyes. 

She didn’t want to forget.

 She didn’t want to forget everything that she had gone through. No matter how traumatic or painful, it built who she was. And she didn’t give a damn if it sounded cocky, but she was one of the fucking strongest Hydra had created, and not because she was one of the only who’s enhancement trials had actually worked, but because she had willpower and determination like no one else. 

She didn’t want to forget all the friends she had watched die during experimentations. Or the teammates she had lost during missions. She didn’t want to forget the person she had fallen in love with. She didn’t want to forget any of them, and she especially didn’t want to forget that she had finally found out the people she had been forking for her entire life were on the wrong side. 

But it was too late. The machine was set over her face, the cool metal on the right side covering her cheek and eye, the other side only covering a cheek. 

Her ears were ringing, and the tears had started falling, but not for her. From the next room over, she could hear Ivan scream, before a gunshot ran through the building and the screams were silenced. 

The doctor nodded to everyone else in the room before turning on the machine.

And then the screams were for her own pain. 

<><><>

Other than noises of the machine and Raven’s muffled screams. Til’ one of the the scientists at their computer turned to the others. “We have a chopper coming! About 10 klicks northwest.” 

“Dammit.” 

#marvel #mcu #original character #captain america #chris evans #winter soldier #sebastian stan #black widow #scarlet johansson #ironman #robert downy jr #hawkeye #jeremy renner #hulk #mark ruffalo #thor #chris hemsworth

[blazehedgehog]

Do you ever think of yourself as being on the ASD? Up until the past few years (I'm 25 now), I never considered the possibility but as I delved deeper I identified with a lot of common behaviors (obsession, preferring isolation, social issues/anxiety, pickiness) and explained why I found it so difficult to assimilate in high school.

I’ve occasionally wondered, but there are a lot of things that kind of go against the grain of that kind of diagnosis. The few symptoms I exhibit of ASD also overlap with something that’s far more likely, and that’s that I probably have ADHD.

I had two or three teachers growing up try to convince my Mom that I had ADHD and that I needed to be medicated for it. My Mom refused to believe them, because back in the early 90′s, the traditional definition of ADHD included hyperactivity, and I was not a classically hyperactive kid. The image of ADD kids back then was being unable to sit still, unable to stop acting out. ADD kids were loud and grabby and uncontrollable, which I definitely was not.

We understand a lot more about the condition now and even though you should never self-diagnose, I’m 99% sure I have ADHD. My inability to focus on one singular hobby (hi, I’m an artist, game developer, sound engineer, youtuber, streamer, and writer), my extremely selective and poor memory, my inability to switch tracks and get motivated on something else after my mind is already set, my utter impatience for certain things, etc.

My isolation and social issues can be explained simply by my depression more than ASD, I think. I’ve talked about this before but I fell apart in high school. Things happened to me in middle school; I had bullies that acted like my friends, they did some deeply horrible things to me, and it completely destroyed my ability to trust anyone for decades. To some degree, it still persists to this very day. It just... wrecked me, in a way that’s hard to describe, and harder to even comprehend. I stopped showering. I stopped brushing my teeth. I just gave up on taking care of myself. I’ve blocked most of the memories out because of trauma coping mechanisms; I only know some of these things because other people have told me they happened. It really was that bad.

I had a really bad stretch of like, five years, from around 13 years old to 17 or 18, maybe even 19. I did eventually get away from those bullies in high school, but the combination of self-loathing they left me with combined with my ADHD and the mounting anxiety problems I was developing meant I coasted through an entire semester of algebra class absorbing absolutely nothing and I got a failing grade. Friends (new ones) dared me to skip one class with them for fun, and I figured “Well I’m doing bad in algebra anyway, so yeah, I’ll skip with you and go to the bowling alley.”

And that started the snowball. I became unmoored from the routine of school, which can be a big problem when you have ADHD. Skipping algebra every now and then became always skipping algebra. Then I started skipping gym too, because getting undressed in front of the other kids in the locker room was an introvert nightmare. Skipping two classes turned in to skipping three. Then four. Then all classes. Who cares, right? I couldn’t muster up the interest, especially when I realized I had no idea what the current lesson plan was anymore.

My girlfriend dumped me. The school waited until the start of my senior year to pull me aside and inform me that it was impossible for me to graduate under any circumstances (the first and only sign of disapproval they had shown me in three and a half years). My internet friends were yelling at me. I lost touch with my real-life friends. I had massive, gigantic, reality-ending panic attacks that left me too paralyzed to leave my room even to go to the bathroom. I teetered on the edge of having a nervous breakdown. I lost over 100lbs, leaving me nothing more than skin and bones. The mountain of stress I was feeling was taking a toll on my health.

I shut down. Closed myself off to the outside world. Ryan did not exist anymore. And for something like a decade, that’s how I lived. My only human contact was with immediate family (when they could drag me out in to the sunlight against my will) and with a core group of shrinking internet friends. The few that did not lose respect for me, anyway.

That does things to you. The parts of your brain that knew how to socialize atrophy and you forget how to hold a conversation. When I was still going to school, my cousin and I told each other we should become therapists, because we were excellent at listening to people and being mediators. We could fix anyone’s problems. Now, those skills died inside of me. I went from being able to make anyone feel better to constantly sticking my foot in my mouth. Being a nuisance, even when I wasn’t trying to be. I lost all sense of what was appropriate to say, or how to convey my feelings. Or convey anything outside of a keyboard, really. I made a lot of people angry and upset totally by accident, or pushed them away without realizing what I was even doing.

And all of these bad habits fed in to each other like an endless loop. It was a slippery slope that steeply went down, and down, and down. The more isolated I became, the more I wanted to isolate even more. The shame and embarrassment for who I was becoming kept getting stronger. I was caught in a spiral.

I was getting close enough that I could see where the bottom of the barrel was. I call myself introverted, but I’m also the guy who, completely of his own volition, downloaded the Shoutcast Server software in September of 2000 and hosted an all-night live internet radio broadcast. Alone. I was livestreaming myself playing video games for the internet four years before Twitch.tv was even invented. Whenever it came time to read aloud in class, I was always one of the best, clearest students, never needing to sound out words or pause for anything. Nowadays I'd never say I was anything but an introvert, but deep down there’s also been a voice inside of me dying to get out, and at some point I woke up and realized I could be better. I just need less fear and more confidence.

The person you see writing this blog today is the result of finally starting to become aware of what I was doing to myself, and forcibly dragging myself back out in to the world, inch by inch. I don’t think it’s going very well, but at least I’m still making an effort. I fell apart in to many small pieces, and they’re taking a long time to reassemble. I finally graduated high school about five years ago. (I re-read that post a few months ago and started crying.) As you may pick up on from the differences between that post and this one, I’m still learning a lot about myself and what’s wrong with me. The picture is always becoming clearer by the day.

But knowing the problem means you can find the solution, right? That’s what you’re doing, too.  It’s a slow process, but I continue the fight to heal the damage I’ve done to myself.

Anyway, sorry for getting so randomly heavy and spilling my guts out like this. I appreciate people looking out for me like this. And who knows, maybe I am on the spectrum after all. Just because I have my own theories doesn't mean they're necessarily right.

#questions #heavy #personal #Anonymous #public therapy

[xoluvx]

Peter From Chemistry - P.PxReader

Warning: initial fluff, but some smut at the end & swearing

Summary: You meet a cute boy in your chemistry class & though he seems to be interested, nothing really come out of it. Until he texts you one night asking if he can come over. Oh and did I mention? You’re both hiding something.

Word Count: 3.5K

Alright, so this stemmed from a personal experience. Obviously my person wasn’t Peter Parker and they were definitely no Spider-Man. BUT I thought it’d make for a cool Peter imagine. & there’s nothing better than pulling from personal experience. Also kinda had a hard time figuring out how to end, so enjoy or whateva!

-

You stumbled into the cold classroom, gripping the strap of your backpack lazily resting on your shoulder. Your eyes shifted to the clock hanging on the wall. 9:02am. Shit, you were late. Two minutes, but still late. All the seats were taken and now you were awkwardly standing there trying not to cause a scene.

“Nice of you to join us, please take a seat.” Too late.

You searched the room for an empty seat and quickly made your way to an empty stool. The only empty stool. You dropped your backpack on the floor, settling down into the seat. You briefly made eye contact with the boy sitting across from you. It was obvious he was trying hard not to acknowledge you, spare you some embarrassment for walking in late, but his brown eyes caught yours for a second. His lips forming a tight line smile.

The first day of classes always sucked. Syllabi were thrown around; awkward icebreakers were always a must and there were always those uncomfortable silences amongst strangers. You were done with the buffoonery. But alas here you were flipping through the four-page packet compromised of your chemistry course calendar, assignments, and tasks for the next few weeks.

The voice of your professor faded in and out as you skimmed the classroom. You could probably count the number of women in the room with one hand. Your professor being one of them.

You were quickly pulled out of your trance when you heard the professor say, “Okay so please give your name, major, year and why you’re taking this course.” You tried really hard not to roll your eyes. Didn’t professors have any better ice breaker? Better yet, couldn’t they skip it all together? You weren’t here to make friends, you just needed to pass.

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand as you hear people introducing themselves. You really couldn’t care less, until the boy - that one with the big doe eyes and tight line smile - started speaking. He cleared his throat, furrowing his brows. “Um, my name is Peter. I’m a first year undeclared.” The teacher, whose arms were folded, nodded her head. “Why are you taking this course, Peter?”

You watch the boy fumble on the stool, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. “Considering a chemistry minor,” he said giving her a small smile. You tried hard not to smirk, glancing at the dorky pun t-shirt he was wearing; this kid did not look like he needed the course.

Now it was your turn. Having been through this same ice breaker for multiple classes, you were quick. “My name is Y/n. Second year, electrical engineering and physics double major. Minor in chemistry. Taking this course for my minor.”

You felt everyone’s eyes fixate on you. You were used to it. The only pair of eyes that mattered were those of the boy across from you whose mouth had fallen open absorbing in the information. You looked at him briefly, noticing his brows furrowed, one of them unruly. You looked away and towards the professor giving her an awkward smile. “Great, impressive y/n,” she said motioning towards the next student.

That’s how the class went for the next hour and forty-five minutes. It was pure torture. After a painstaking review of the course, the syllabus and the expectations, the teacher closed the class with a quick explanation of the final project.

Final project? You thought to yourself. On cue the professor spoke. “I know the final project is ways out, but this is going to be a partner project so I am giving you the opportunity now to start thinking of who you want to partner with. This is worth 45% of your grade. Partner choices need to be emailed to me by this Sunday. Class dismissed.”

You sighed softly taking in the information, the room quickly engulfed in chatter. People were already busy finding a partner, jotting down numbers, exchanging details. Most of the people here looked like they knew each other. You, never straying from your group of friends and keeping your circles separate, had no idea who you were going to partner with.

As people started exiting the room, you hopped off your stool, grabbing your backpack from the floor. You swung it over your shoulder pulling your phone from its side pocket looking through your texts: roommates wanting to meet up for an early lunch.

You opened the classroom door, ready to leave when you felt a faint touch on your shoulder. You flinched turning to face whoever had touched you. It was the boy. You’d almost forgotten about him.

You walked out of the room, him following close behind.  “You want to be partners?” He asked holding tight to the straps of his backpack as he walked next to you. You looked away from your feet to look at him. He had a look you couldn’t quite read. Expecting? Nervous?

You tugged a piece of hair behind your ear and shrugged. “Sure,” you say calmly. Though inside you were freaking relieved you didn’t have to go out of your way to find a partner. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

You see him struggle to get his phone out of his hoodie pocket. Fingers fumbling with the material. You try to restrain a laugh, but a small noise slips through your lips. He finally gets a hold of his phone and pulls up a new contact card. He nervously hands you the phone, cheeks burning from the incident.

You smile, typing your phone number into his phone along with your name. You save the information and hand his phone back before turning on your heel. You keep your face turned to him as you walk away. “I’ll see Thursday,” you say throwing him a small smile before turning your back on him, making your way towards the dining hall where you were meeting your roommates.

Peter stood there, phone in his hand, watching you walk away. He watched as your hair bounced ever so slightly with every step you took. He looked down at his phone, a big goofy smile spreading across his face.

-

You were sprawled across your couch after lunch with your roommates. Hands resting on your belly as you watched one of your roommates working on the coffee table.

Chemistry was the only class you had today, now you had to wait two days to see the cute boy again. You debated whether or not to tell your roommates knowing they’d tease you. He was only a freshman, after all.

Noticing the sudden silence, your roommate looked up putting her pencil down. “What’s on your mind?” she asked. You looked down at her, one of your fingers twirling a piece of your hair. You couldn’t keep the information to yourself any longer, it was just begging to burst out of your chest.

“There’s this cute guy in my class,” you say, mind drifting to thoughts of the boy.

Your roommate quickly got up pushing your legs off the couch so she could sit. “Okay, tell me more!” She pried resting her face in her hand, resting on the couch’s arm chair. “I mean there’s not much to tell. He’s in my chemistry class. We’re partners.” You see her eyes light up mouthing partners using air quotes. You kick her leg, rolling your eyes. “Stop, he’s like super innocent looking.” You say sighing thinking of how awkward he was when asking you to be partners.

Your conversation came to a halt when your phone vibrated. It was resting on the coffee table. Quickly reaching for it, you noticed you’d received a text … from an unsaved number. Curious, you opened the text notification.

‘Hey, it’s Peter. Peter from chemistry.’

You gulped, a small smile forming on your lips. You flashed the phone towards your roommate. “Peter from chemistry,” you say testing how the words sounded slipping off your tongue. Your roommate raised her eyebrows giving you a small joking silent clap. You laugh and look down at your phone, debating what you should say. You settle on a simple Hey.

‘Do we have homework for Thursday?’

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. You knew this was just a ploy to talk to you because the syllabus had all the homework assignments for the rest of the quarter.

‘No homework :)’

Your reply was short and sweet. The three daunting dots popped up on the bottom of the screen and disappeared just as fast. You sighed putting your phone down.

-

You slipped on to the same stool as the last time you were in this room. This time, you were 20 minutes early. Excessive, yes, but you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself again. You were immersed in your phone, scrolling through social media when you heard the screeching of a stool being pulled out in front of you.

You tried hard not to look up, but not able to resist you quickly glanced up from your phone. Your eyes met Peter’s. He gave you a small smile as he lowered his backpack to the ground. “Hey,” he says playing with his hands now resting on the table. “Hi,” you reply.

You’re not going to lie and pretend like you weren’t hurt by the fact that he never texted you back. You spent all day that Tuesday and the following day wondering if he was going to text back. He never did. Now you kind of resented him for it. He clearly knew you had no homework, yet he went out of his way to try to start a conversation and left you high and dry.

The rest of the class didn’t go any better. The professor lectured. There were awkward glances between you and Peter. Uncomfortable silences when the professor asked your table to “discuss”. You couldn’t wait to get out of here.

-

‘Can I come over?’

The text that flashed on your phone screen as you laid in bed made your heart skip a beat. It fluttered and you feel the thumping all the way up at the side of your face that laid on the pillows. You opened the text, watching the familiar three dot bubble pop up.

They appeared and disappeared and you wondered what he could be typing.

It’d been a few weeks since that awkward incident. By this point, you and Peter had pushed past the awkwardness focusing on the reason you had his number in the first place. The final project. Yeah, you’d gotten to know a few details of his life (as much as he’d let out), but there been no significant moments that made you believe he was into you.

Until now.

‘I want to see you.’

The second text made your fingers cold. The thumping of your heart picked up its speed and your hand could hardly hold on to your phone. But they did, long enough for you to drop a pin and a simple ‘text me when you’re here’.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes when you received a text from the boy letting you know that he was outside. How the hell did he get here so fast? You wondered. He lived on campus, the house you shared with your roommates was a good few minutes’ walk from the dorms.

You struggled to get out of bed, the nerves of meeting him outside of class. At night. It was too much for you. You were a confident person, yeah. But this boy just seemed to make you all mush all the time.

Grabbing a grip of yourself, you pushed your body off the bed. Feet making instant contact with the cold floor, sending shivers up your spine. In the attempt of mentally preparing yourself to greet Peter, you’d forgotten to change into something “visitor friendly”. Your large t-shirt fell mid-thigh barely hiding your small athletic shorts that clung to every nook and cranny of your behind.

You tugged on the bottom of the shirt pulling it down.

‘It’s kinda cold out here’

You blushed reading the text, feeling bad you’d taken so long. You rushed down the hall and towards the door. When you opened the door, Peter had his hands deep within the pockets of his jeans. The flimsy material of his navy-blue jacket hardly shielding him from the cold.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize opening the door wide enough to let him in. He brushed past you blowing air up to his upper lip and nose trying to get warm. You felt your body tingle at the slightly bit of contact you had made with the side of his arm.

You’d also completely forgotten about your outfit until Peter had settled into your house his eyes lingering. His eyes shifted from your bare thighs up to fabric that poorly covered your breasts. You folded your arms, clearing your throat before guiding Peter to your room. You were too afraid your roommates might walk out at any instance.

He nervously followed, playing with the zipper of his jacket. When you’d reach the door of your room, you turned back to Peter giving him a small nervous smile. Peter cleared his throat, stepping into your sacred land.

“You can sit,” you spoke in a soft voice patting the space next to you on the bed. Peter rubbed his hands together, still cold. Yet, he removed his jacket revealing his toned arms in a tight shirt. One you’d never seen before. You bit the inside of your lip, your throat suddenly dry.

Peter slid his body next to yours, his hands crossed on his lap. There’d been zero physical contact, but somehow this felt very intimate. There was a silence, not awkward, between the two of you. It was soon filled with the rustling of your covers moving under your body as you shifted your weight. Peter cleared his throat shifting his eyes to meet your gaze.

“So… you wanted to see me?” you ask, the awkwardness now settling in.

You didn’t feel awkward being in his presence. You felt awkward that he seemed to be the one to always make the first move, but never followed through. Not but ten minutes ago he was asking to come over, stating he wanted to see you. You’d caught a glimpse of the confident Peter you hoped was deep inside, but now he was sitting at the foot of your bed playing his fingers nervously.

“I – I just …” For someone who was wicked smart, he couldn’t articulate a coherent thought. Your hand rested on the exposed skin of your thigh watching Peter’s lips move nervously. 

Peter’s eyes were fixated on you. Yours were fixated on his lips watching his bottom lip quivered as you inched closer. There was an obvious attraction. An unexplainable pull. Two forces destined to be together. The beating of your heart became louder and obvious as your body neared Peter’s, who was now matching your own movements.

You brushed your nose against Peter’s, familiarizing yourself with his breathing. He tilted his head, your lips brushing ever so slightly before pulling away to brush your nose. You gulped; the anticipation too high. The hand that was resting on your thigh moved to hold on to Peter’s arm feeling the way his bicep flexed when he felt your delicate touch.

His lips were parted, inches from yours. You were so close you were practically exchanging breaths. He’d exhale and you’d inhale. Peter brought his right hand to the back of your neck, massaging the sensitive area. His mouth still so fucking close to yours, but never actually touching.

You whimpered, your hand falling down to his thigh gripping it tightly. A plea for more.

Peter’s tongue curiously traced your top lip. He clenched his jaw, still gripping to the back of your neck, before repeating the action on your bottom lip. It took every fiber in your body to control yourself, letting Peter take the lead. He had been the one asking to come over after all, you wanted to see what he could do.

He dug his fingers deeper into your neck eliciting a moan. The moan that sent him over the edge. He attacked your lips with his own. Hunger in each nip and tug at your bottom lip. His tongue brushed your bottom lip begging for permission. You open your mouth inviting him in.

Your tongues danced, so glorious. The feeling rushing all the way down to your core. Your body pushing itself against his side as he played with your hair, faces moving this way and that.

You brought yourself to sit on your knees, hovering over Peter. Both your hands finding their way to his face working on tilting his head to give you the best angle to devour him.

His free hand had cupped the bottom of your thigh and was slowly creeping up your ass and towards your back. You shivered under his touch, his hands still cold from the minutes he spent waiting for you.

“Do you want this?” He asked pulling himself from your grip. Searching your face for answers. You eagerly nodded, the lust slipping through your lips when you felt his hand reach under your shorts to squeeze the supple skin.

He pulled you down so you were straddling his lap. Your lips reconnected. This time it was soft and deep. Your lips connecting and reconnecting as your faces titled in opposite directions every few seconds.

You felt his fingers digging into the sides of your waist, his hips bucked longing to feel your every movement. You ground your hips into his, whimpering into his mouth.

Fuck you, Peter from chemistry. You thought melting under his touch.

& fuck you he did.

-

The birds outside your window brought you out of your slumber. Feeling your tense body, you stretch into a starfish before hitting the back of Peter’s head.

You retracted your hand, mentality cursing. You hadn’t forgotten about last night. Hell, it was going to take a long time to forget about the way he listened to your body. The way he made you quiver. The way he licked the skin under your ear sending you into a fit of moans and whimpers.

How the hell did this boy know how to do all this? And better yet, how could you get him to do it again?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the body next to you shift his weight. A low groan escaping his lips as he brought his arms up to shield his eyes from the sun peeking through your blinds.

You bit your lip watching the veins in his arms and the way his hair was pointing in all different directions. He was a god. No doubt.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He mumbled his arms still slung over his eyes but an obvious smirk had taken over his lips.

“HA” you replied turning your back to him, a sad attempt at hiding your flushed cheeks.

It wasn’t long before you felt his body molding on your back, his arm wrapped around you bringing you closer. The tip of his nose caressed your shoulder. You settled into the embrace as he planted a kiss on the same spot. Then the nape of your neck. And finally that sweet spot right below your ear.

“We should get out of bed,” you whisper bringing your hand up to your nightstand to grab your phone. Peter eyed your movements. You pressed the home button to check the time and as soon as your lock screen flashed, Peter’s body went limp.

Noticing the sudden shift, you turned your head towards him as much as you could asking what was wrong.

Peter, still collecting his thoughts, finally responded. “Why do you have a picture of Tony Stark and a little girl as your screensaver?”

Your brows furrowed moving your body so that you were now fully facing Peter. “You mean a picture of myself? ... with my dad?” You asked confused clutching to the comforter.

Peter’s mouth was suddenly dry and he was trying really hard to swallow the shock. “Your dad?” He asked hoping you’d say you were pranking him.

You sat up, pulling the sheets to cover your breast. “I thought you knew? Everyone here knows who I am.” You say referring back to the obvious knowledge. You were an electrical engineer and physics double major with a chemistry minor for fucks sake. Try saying that five times.

Peter laid flat on his back, groaning and placing his palms on his eyes trying to process the information. Did he really just have sex with Mr. Stark’s daughter? Worse. Did she know he was Spider-Man?

“Wait if you’re Tony Stark’s daughter why are you never at the compound?” He instantly regretted saying that knowing he had definitely given up his cover, if she didn’t already know.

“How do you know that?” She asked. Confusion written on her face.

Peter groaned again. Should he tell her? Or should he risk having her snoop around and find out by someone who wasn’t him? 

“I’m Spider-Man!!” He blurted searching your face for some form of comfort or understanding.

Your mouth formed an O. Why did this lifestyle, heroes and whatnot, follow you everywhere? I mean apart from the fact that you were Tony Stark’s daughter and it was kinda written in your cards. You groaned coming to terms with your fate. 

Goddamit, Peter from chemistry. Fuck you. You thought straddling his lap. His hands instantly finding his favorite parts of you.

-

PART TWO 

Masterlist ♥

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #spiderman

[promiseofthepremise]

hey! i just wanted to say that i love your supercut series so much! i love the way you write dialogue, its funny and it flows really well, do you have any tips? mine always ends up really stuffy :/ thank you!! :)

oh my gosh 🥺 this is such a wonderful compliment, thank you so much! 

i in no way claim to be an expert, but i also just so happen to really enjoy writing dialogue so although i feel very imposter-ish telling you how to live your life here we go!

A few things, some of which I know are obvious (but bear repeating) and some of which are blatant opinion and should be taken with a grain of salt lmao: 

(I am.... so sorry this got so long oof) 

1. For me personally, the number one way to learn how to write how people talk is simply to pay attention to the way people talk. 

Yes, in the stuff you read/ watch/ etc, but mostly just in real life, you know? Just turning up your awareness for speech patterns and word choice and rhythm and emphasis will 1)  make some of the stuff below this point super clear and 2) make natural dialogue start coming far more naturally!

2. Show Don’t Tell: perhaps the most widely recognized and cliche piece of writing advice you’ll ever get, but also a valid concern for pretty much any writing medium. 

In regards to dialogue, though, I think it mostly comes into play with showing us how a character feels rather than having them tell us. Moments of pure, unadulterated vulnerability tend to be rare in conversation (not unheard of, of course! there will be moments when your characters have an open and honest dialogue about their feelings! i personally adore this!)

My point is more so that if a character is angry, they’re probably not going to say “I’m angry!” but instead they’ll show it in other ways. They’re more terse than usual, they’re speaking in shorter sentences or clamming up entirely, they’re quiet when they’re usually loud or loud when they’re usually quiet, they have an outburst, but it’s about something completely unrelated to what they’re currently mad about-- see where I’m going with this? 

3. Keep long speeches few and far between: 

this is one of those things that could be considered a blatant opinion lmao but I personally find that big bricks of monologues often times don’t add much to your story/ character and instead just gum up the pacing of a scene. 

There are exceptions of course (is your character literally giving a speech? fair enough, friend!) but still, it’s an easy trap to fall into especially when you’re trying to get across exposition, which brings me to...

4. Avoid info dumping! 

Do I love it when my friends info dump at me about the things they care about and are very knowledgeable about? yes! I adore it! But can this also, in writing, just serve to slow everything down and make it difficult to actually absorb the information you’re trying to tell your readers? Indeed! 

Sometimes you can’t avoid a bit of exposition via conversation, but try not to give all the important information via conversation, because there are so many other fun ways for us to discover stuff about your story and world!

5. Context and Code-switching: Giving characters specific ways of talking that are all their own is really awesome and helps us differentiate between them in a conversation. But being aware of the context of who they’re talking to is also important. 

For instance, a teenage boy calling his best friend “dude”? Absolutely-- tells us a lot about the Brand of teenage boy he is. But in most cases we probably aren’t going to see that same teenage boy calling his English teacher “dude,” and if we do that’s gonna tell us a lot about who this kid is and what his relationship is like with his English teacher (as will the English teacher’s response-- “Hey, kid! How about that game?” versus an exasperated “Get to class.”)

Along with this, letting your character fall a little bit out of character can be just as telling. A quick-witted, very smart character may be quick-witted and very smart, but she’s probably not going to be quite as on top of her game if, for instance, she’s hanging upside down above a tank of acid. This is an extreme example but the point is that how we’re feeling, where we are, who we’re with-- all of these things affect the words we use and how we talk! And if a character suddenly starts acting differently than we know them to, even if the situation is a bit more subtle of a stressor than a tank of acid, it’ll tell us a lot about where the stakes have been placed!

6. “Said” is not your enemy! You know how when there’s a fan on in the room and you stop actively hearing it after a few minutes? Said is the same way. 

We as readers are gonna notice “she implored” “he exclaimed” “they argued” more than just “they said” because our brain tends to filter it out once we’ve read it a couple of times in a scene, so say “she implored” when it’s important to know she’s imploring, but maybe not all the time. (Of course, everything can be over used and repetitiveness can always set in, but the more you write and the more you listen, the more this stuff and the rhythm of it becomes second nature) 

7. Don’t be afraid to start with the action: 

starting a scene with “Hey, how’s it going?” is very polite but doesn’t actually move the story forward at all. Starting a scene with “You want me to do what?!” or “Get out of my way!” gives us some sense of 1) the tone of the scene 2) the level of urgency and 3) a reason to be interested in what happens next 

8. How often do you address your friends by name?

Probably not terribly often! It’s such an easy thing to fall into, wanting to address characters by name in dialogue for the Drama of it all, but if you do it too much the drama sort of withers away and instead just makes the start of every new sentence stick out like a sore thumb, cutting into the fluency you’ve worked so hard to create 

Okay, I could go on about this for hours and I know I’m gonna want to add to this later, but these are the things that came to the top of my head, so I’ll stop being terribly pretentious and know-it-all-ish now. 

ps. if you read my writing and notice-- hey, prem, you break all of these rules constantly all the time? Yep! rules are arbitrary and also I’m not a professional 😌

thank you for your time have a wonderful day 💖

#prem stuff #it cannot be overstated how much i do not know what i'm talking about #also i apologize for being Like This #gonna shut up now #ask

[buckysmischief]

what’s up danger? - 1

sunflower, part 1

Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos

AN: @perpetually-tuned-out helped me write a piece of this & it’s bolded, Amanda you’re amazing & I cannot thank you enough!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

🕷🕸

Peter’s POV

Peter was watching TV alone in his apartment one day and got back-to-back phone calls from Fury and Tony about a new villain they wanted to recruit. The problem was that no one knew where she was currently due to her ability to change reality, which is why they needed Peter. After the whole ordeal with Mysterio, Peter and Tony began working on a piece of tech that would detect any false realities.

Once arriving at the SHIELD NY office, Peter was welcomed by Maria and escorted to the debriefing room where Fury and Tony were waiting. On the table was a new Spider-Man suit, which meant Tony had added new tech that he would be needing for his mission.

“So, kid, do you remember a thing called the reality stone?” Peter was well into his 20s but Tony has never stopped calling him ‘kid’, which he was fine with. As long as it came from Tony, from anyone else felt like an insult.

“Um yeah, sort of. The stones were destroyed by Thanos after the snap though, weren’t they?” puzzled Peter, “Is something happening? Is he back? Do we-”

“Woah there, slow down.” Tony interrupted, “Back in 2013 the stone, or Aether, was in London. There was this thing called the Convergence happening, I’m not getting into it right now so ask Thor if you’re curious. Basically, as a young girl YN YLN, was in London in 2013 on a class trip, got caught up in an anomaly, and she absorbed the powers of the aether.”

“Like Jane?”

“No. We’re not sure why, all we know is that she uses it how Thanos did.”

“Back to the point,” Fury interjects, “It’s damn near impossible to catch a person who can alter reality, so Tony updated the tracking abilities in your suit.”

“I ran tests on all the stones when we had them, good thing too or we never would have had the technology to find her.” Tony boasts. “Took some time to figure out, though. We need you to test it out, see if you can find her when the radar detects a location.”

Peter nods, taking in all the new information presented to him. “Okay, but why me? Not that I’m complaining, I just don’t understand why I’m her assigned Avenger.”

“It’s simple,” Maria starts, “Beck did something similar and, once you finally figured it out, you handled the situation extremely well.”

“She’s also your neighbor,” Fury laughs, “we call her Rem.”

Peter was shocked. His quiet, shy, and probably overly nervous neighbor was a villain? They had been neighbors for two years, how did he not notice? Did she know that he’s Spider-Man? Well, at least he knew her name now.

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Try and recruit her.”

Your POV

For the past year Spider-Man has been on your ass every move you made, and not because you lived right beside him. After the first two times he found you attempting to rob a bank, you figured he must have found a way to track your powers. You had to stop using your powers at home, which wasn’t a huge deal. The last thing you needed was Peter Parker invading your personal life.

It wasn’t hard to find out who he was, the fact that his girlfriend was always yelling “Why can’t you just stop being Spider-Man?” helped a lot. They fought a lot, actually. It was none of your business, so you weren’t worried about why, but you did know she wanted him to retire the suit.

“Oh Spidey, still comin’ back I see. You don’t have a girlfriend to keep you busy?” he hadn’t even made himself known yet, but you knew he was there.

“Not really, we broke up. Again. We’ve kinda been in the cycle of.. Wait, stop distracting me!” webs flew from his suit and entangled your hands.

“C’mon Spidey, you know how I feel about being tied up.” you say with a smirk.

“Yeah, but something tells me you like it.” Peter smirked under his mask, “Otherwise you wouldn’t have made it so easy.”

Peter had slowly been getting closer, and you were suddenly pressed against the wall. And if the eyes on his mask were anything to go by, he was squinting. It’s like this is a different Spider-Man. Usually if you get a little flirty, he would get flustered, flirt back a little, but you always got away before he got to your hands. However, this time, the lack of witty banter had thrown you off, this time he was really flirting. Peter had noticed the slight twitch of your eyes as he considered his next few words.

“I could just make this the easiest job and have you suspended from the air, but something tells me you’ll beg me to tighten the restraints.” Your pupils dilate at his crude comment and your natural instinct was to lash out with your hands.

As your arms buckled and fists clenched in the webbing Peter realized that he’d mobilized your strongest asset. Until you could free yourself, you were trapped under Spider-Man’s gaze.

“So Remmy,” how you loathed that nickname, “why are you in the weapons vault, at SHIELD of all places?”

“Heard some rumors Cap had extra shields, got bored and thought I’d have a look.” While that was true, you failed to mention what one would go for if any existed.

Peter scoffed, “Come on Rem, just meet with him once. You don’t have to be a thief forev-”

“I am not meeting Nick Fury or Tony Stark.”

Peter closed the remaining distance between you and removed the webbing from your hands, holding them in his. He bent down and whispered in your ear, “Then stay for me.”

You don’t know when your feelings for Peter, and Spider-Man, changed. It started out as a typical hero-villian dynamic, but slowly you developed something for the masked hero.

“I’ll think about it.” one moment you are kissing his cheek, and the next he is watching you disappear behind a door that never existed before.

What the hell was that? So what Peter and his girlfriend broke up, that’s not anything new. You could count on one hand the amount of time she’s slammed the door at 2 in the morning after Peter had come back from patrolling the city just this month. Flirting wasn’t anything new, just a way to try and distract the other. No, you had just never had Peter, Spider-Man, act on his flirtations.

-

You walked out of the door you created and immediately blended in with foot traffic, deciding that you were going to pick up Chinese food and head home for the night.

You should have went with Italian. Of course Peter would be there. He was putting his card back in his wallet when he spotted you. “Yn? Hey, Peter. I mean I’m Peter, we’re neighbors.”

Never in the three years of living next to this man have you two ever said more than a, “Hey, they put your mail in my box again by mistake” to each other. What the hell had possessed both of his identities to change things? “Yeah. I mean, I know who you are.”

“You going home after this? We could walk together, if that’s fine with you I mean.” he was nervous. Not even an hour ago he had you pinned against a wall and now he’s suddenly shy?

You thought about your next words, and the fact that you weren’t supposed to know he was single. “And how would your girlfriend feel about that?”

“MJ? She left, again. I told her to not come back anymore, it’s a long story. Not important anymore. But it’s fine if you don’t want to!”

You really should say no, “No, I want to! I mean, why not, ya know?”

After paying for your food the two of you walk back to Peter’s apartment, he had just bought a new TV and suggested movie with dinner. As the night went on you both gravitated toward each other, your legs had ended up stretched out across his lap while his hand was gripping your thigh.

It was odd, knowing how he spends half of his life and then learning how he spends his other. Your favorite was finding the fiction in the story of his real life. He didn’t develop tech for Tony Stark, he developed teach with Tony Stark. He tested it. You also found out that he was a giant nerd and a total sweetheart.

But after all you learned about Peter that night, he didn’t tell you that you were apart of the reason MJ left.

It started out with him coming home hurt after fighting a random bank robber, a bullet grazed his shoulder and he acted like it was nothing. That’s when MJ started asking Peter to stay in the lab more and out of the field, but Peter couldn’t do that.

Then you became his mission. MJ noticed how obsessed he was with catching you and showing you the perks of being a hero. Every night he found you he came home and it was all he could talk about. “MJ I know she’s technically a villain-”

“-she is literally a villain-”

“-but you should have seen the way she changed everything. We were in Central Park and suddenly we were inside an abandoned building, it was amazing!”

No, Peter wasn’t going to mention that. He just wanted to do this. They could figure out her being a professional thief, and him being a fucking Avenger later. Right?

🕷🕸

Permanent tags: @sociallyeneptbarnes @valkyriesryde @buckysdumbmetalarm @rogvewitch @infj-slytherclaw @whimsicalatbest @readeity @nea90sweetie @aestheticrelated @pinknerdpanda @justabitoverobsessed @imsoft-barnes @actualdpshuri @goalexis123 @https-bucky @stuckyandsciencebros @moli1497 @agentpeggybarnesfanfics @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @screaming-fridge @geeksareunique @rhymesmenagerie @brokenthelovely @ivoryhazlewood @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @sebbbystaaan @rayche776 @buggy-blogs @estillion14 @perpetually-tuned-out @stuckonjbbarnes @sandyclaws

Series tags: @stateoflovinged

#peter parker x reader #Peter Parker x villain reader #peter parker imagine #Tony stark #nick fury #Maria hill #mj #Michelle jones #reader insert #marvel #mcu fanfic #whats up danger?

[theexleynatureblog]

Time to talk Vaccines

I will start off with a bias - I am not anti-vax. Why? Because I come from a science background - more ecology and behavior than biochemistry - so I have a lot of exposure to ‘sciency’ stuff.  I am no expert - in fact I barely passed college introductory chemistry with a B - but as sick and tired of I am of listening to anti-vax propaganda everywhere online (and it’s rising importance to modern events) I have to put in my two cents. If y’all won’t listen to over a thousand different scientists with varying degrees and levels of experience, maybe you’ll listen to a cranky college kid who can give you the scoop in plan English.

History of vaccines gives a good, in-depth lessons about where vaccines first came from - if your interested in that aspect. In summary, it covers ancient variants of vaccines, up to Edward Jenner’s 1796 cowpox vaccine, and continued development through the 1930′s. **Penicillin may be the most popular product, but it is used against dangerous bacteria, not virus’. More information here.**

To start off simply: what is a virus? Personally, I like to think about them as tiny robots - lifelike but not living. This question is actually a hot-topic debated by the science community, because we can’t agree on whether or not they are even living. This article from 2008 seems to cover the debate pretty well. Viruses are smaller, and in terms of what they’re made of and how they work, simpler than cells.

This picture gives a good idea of sizes. Note that everything in this picture is microscopic, and cannot be seen with the naked eye. This photo is computer-generated based on information from what we’ve seen in microscopes. Corona-virus is the dark blue circle second from the left. On the far right is what’s probably a typical animal cell. The blue bean thing next to Coronavirus is a bacteria, which are living things and operate differently than viruses, though some bacteria can make people sick. Check out this article for more info on bacteria.

So viruses are smaller than cells, they are also built different. Simply put, viruses are a case of protein with a string of DNA inside. Off the bat, this sounds really similar to bacteria, but there’s one major difference: bacteria can duplicate themselves and viruses cannot. The politically correct term is ‘binary fission’, a kind of asexual reproduction that is basically an organism copying all it’s DNA, splitting the two strains apart, and then stretching everything else into two separate things. I won’t go into all the complex terms and functions (you can read about it more here). All you need to understand is it is a complex possess that requires machinery that virus’ don’t have. So how do virus’ reproduce? They sneak into other cells and hijack their machinery to produce more viruses. 

Because viruses and cells have been living together since life began on this planet billions of years ago, cells have developed forms of protection (from viruses and bacteria). A ‘lock’, basically all across the cell surface. So in order for viruses to continue, they needed to develop a ‘key’. This is why viruses have a host of different shapes. Coronavirus is named after the crown-like spikes, which are proteins that help invade a living cell. Read more about how viruses invade cells here.

Phew! That was a lot, and we haven’t even gotten into vaccine’s yet! That’s because in order to understand vaccines, you have to have some understanding of the thing they are built to fight. The question becomes: If a virus is considered not living, how do you fight it? How do you kill something that’s not alive?

The most obvious answer is just taking it apart. A virus can’t do it’s thing if it’s broken down into single elements. But, as we discussed earlier, viruses are super small. We can barely see them in microscopes (we have to use a super microscope called an Electron microscopes). There’s no physically possible or safe way to crush up/rip apart a virus. Using radiation, water, or fire isn’t practical either. Sure - fire will destroy anything, but you can’t light up a 5-year-old with the flu. Techniques of disassembling viruses are currently being studied, but we still have a lot to learn. 

So, if we can’t break it apart, the only thing we can do is stop it from spreading. This is basically how our immune system works. If a cell is infected, it will send  a piece of the viral protein, to another cell: T-cells. T-cells are cells of the immune system. One type of immune system cell will send a toxin to kill the infected cell, trapping the virus inside and preventing spread. If the toxin doesn’t kill the cell, the rapid replication of the virus will eventually cause it to burst. (Imagine a chicken egg with a thousand chicks falling out). The downside of this is if the virus spreads to fast, and hits important places like the lungs, and a lot of important cells die... whelp, the fight is over. Unlike most parasites that depend on their hosts to be alive and collect nutrients for them, viruses are more reckless - it doesn't’ matter how many cells die as long as the virus keeps spreading.

The other immune defense systems are via interferon and (more commonly known) antibodies. Interferon's work inside a host cell to stop a virus from hijacking a cell’s DNA replication machines while also alerting immune cells to an infection. Antibodies fight against viruses that have not yet entered a cell. Remember back to the ‘lock’ and ‘key’ thing? Here’s where it comes to play! Antibodies stick to the protein of viruses by matching the ‘key’ shapes. If you stick a wad of gum onto you house key, it won’t be able to fit in the lock, and you can’t get into your house. It’s basically the same thing. Antibodies can also make viruses stick together - making them easier to destroy, and also can send a signal to a cell to engulf and destroy a virus.

The reaaaaaaallllllly cool part is that antibodies can ‘remember what viruses look like’. Antibodies hold onto little bits of the virus - proteins - so they can recognize another infection. (Link)  Naturally, whenever we are infected, we produce antibodies for that specific virus/bacteria, however - they only work if A) we survive the initial infection, and B) if we keep getting infected by that specific strain/type of virus. Viruses come in all kinds of shapes and chemical makeups. Even them, groups of viruses within the same ‘species’ can have unique kinds of protein. This is why you need to get a flu shot every year - the shot isn’t for ‘the flue’, it is for the current strain of the flu spreading. (Article from UAB Medicine).

In order to fight viruses, we need to keep our immune system healthy and produce antibodies. In olden days, the way we produced antibodies was by getting infected and working up herd immunity (healthy individuals with antibodies prevent the spread of a disease to those without immunity). The problem with this is: it doesn’t always work. Nature in our world is build on the process of one force creating a wall and an opposing force finding a new way to break it (think Jurassic Park’s life will find a way). As long a pathway exists, a virus will find a way to use it. Herd immunity also works by selecting and removing the weakest links in the group - individuals who cannot fight an infection well die and stop spreading the virus. It works in nature, but in terms of human civilization - it’s not very nice. It is also unbiased, in the natural world. Wild animals have an equal opportunity to be healthy enough to fight an infection - besides those with genetic issues. We should all be painfully aware that human civilization no longer operates on this fair playing field. Only those with a good social and economic standing have the opportunity to be healthy enough. Remember this before you argue ‘herd immunity’.

All this in mind, vaccines are the last reasonable option. According to the CDC, a vaccine consists of a weakened virus or part of a virus introduced to the body so it can produce antibodies. That’s it. Seems like a really cleaver idea, don’t it?

But hang on: you got sick after taking a vaccine? If your symptoms are runny nose/coughing, good news! That’s not the vaccine - it’s you. (CDC article on why vaccine are safer than exposure)  After detecting an infection (even if its not a active virus) the immune system releases histamine, which causes inflamed blood veins and access mucus - sneezing. This can discharge virons, but also used by them to spread to a new host. Some symptoms, like a wet cough, are caused by a viral infection. Fever’s are another example of a immune response, not directly caused by a virus. It’s our brain trying to cook and break apart the proteins of the virus.

The hot topic about vaccines is they are full of scary chemicals that people don’t want to have injected into them. So lets take a closer look at one example, the influenza vaccine.

Formaldehyde - yikes! Scary sounding for sure - formaldehyde is well known for being used in embalming, and linked to cancer. What is less know is it is also an essential building block in lots of items, like building and construction, personal care and consumer products, and automobile manufacturing. The following picture is the chemical molecule.

It is a simply enough molecule made of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. Formaldehyde naturally occurs in the environment, as most living things produce it as part of the metabolic processes (breaking down and absorbing food). At room temperature, formaldehyde is a gas that can be dangerous to inhale in large amounts. When it comes to vaccines, the purpose of formaldehyde is to deactivate the virus - so it doesn’t actually start infecting cells. In small amounts like this, it is harmless. Personally, I’d be more worried about the gaseous forms.

Aluminum Salts - these include hydroxide and phosphate. The purpose of these chemicals in vaccines is to help the body activate it’s immune response.  hydroxide is basically any molecule with hydrogen and oxygen - example, water, and hydrogen dioxide. (What makes molecules dangerous is not necessarily their elements, it is how they are connected). Once again, these are present in amounts too small to be harmful both short and long term.

Thimerosal - This is the ingredient that has anti-vaxxer’s shouting “Oh no theirs mercury!” but that’s not completely true. Since the 1930′s, it has been used in a wide variety of products. It’s purpose is to prevent contamination of the product (vaccine) by bacteria and fungi. Without it, vaccines run the risk of exposing patients to a serious infection. It’s not even used in every vaccine - only ones that require multiple doses, the ones that are at the highest risk of contamination. Thimerosal comes from an inorganic form of mercury called ethylmercury, which is different than other forms of mercury as it does not remain in the body long enough to cause damage. ALSO: this is not the same compound as methylmercury, a toxic compound found in fish due to pollution. 

Chicken Egg proteins - Egg proteins are used to grow a virus before it is put into a vaccine. The virus and the proteins are separated, but there is risk of chicken proteins still being in the vaccine - bad news for people with allergies. This is why it’s important to discuss any allergies with your doctor. Exposure of this protein to people with allergies has not been documented as fatal, but still must be carefully monitored. Luckily, egg-free versions do exist.

Gelatin - this material acts as a stabilizer, keeping the vaccine effective as it enters the body. It protects the vaccine from effects of heat, and freeze drying. Most vaccines use pork-based gelatin, which means people with severe pork allergies should discuss more options with their doctors. 

Antibiotics - antibiotics in vaccines work with Thimerosal to prevent the growth of dangerous bacteria. The antibiotics involved are not allergy-risks, and used in lots of other lotions and ointments. 

So, there is one example. Dealing with stuff that we don’t know or don’t fully understand can be combated by simple research. If you are concerned about the ingredients in a certain vaccine, do some research! Remember - it’s not always what chemicals, but what form they are in. 

#vaccines #anti-vaccination #science #medicine #anti vaxxer

[angelsandacceptance]

The Day of the Black Sun

Usually, when the girls woke up, they didn’t see a man standing at the edge of their beds, staring at them.

Chase wakes up, and upon sitting up, is greeted by the sight of Castiel, the look on his face the constant confusion he seems to wear. Chase lets out a shriek, causing Harley to bolt up, ready to fight whatever might be there.

Harley looks very surprised to see only Castiel there. 

“What the actual Hell are you doing?” Chase demands. 

“Heaven has a job for the two of you,” Castiel says simply.

“And heaven can’t wait for us to already be awake?” Chase sighs. “How long have you been watching us, anyway?”

Castiel blinks. “I’ve only been watching for an hour.”

Harley looks at Castiel in disbelief. “Right. An hour. That makes it totally okay then.”

“A seal is dangerously close to being broken. You need to stop it from happening.”

“I thought you had your fellow angel soldiers protecting the seals,” Chase says, climbing out of the motel bed. Castiel watches her carefully, and she can’t tell if he looks more annoyed or tired.

“You really think this is easy. More of my brothers have died in this past week battling for seals than in the past two thousand years.”

“Didn’t you say you haven’t been on earth in two thousand years?” Harley asks. “That makes your statistics skewed.”

Castiel gives her a harsh look.

“Okay, so heaven has a job for us. Can we at least get dressed and eat or something?” Chase asks.

“Of course.” Castiel stays staring at them.

“Um, Cas?” Chase asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you, you  know, come back after we’ve changed?” Chase asks, making a shoo-ing gesture. He narrows his eyes at her. 

“Bye bye, my angelic acquaintance.”

“I will be back,” he says. Castiel then disappears, leaving the girls staring at the wall, blinking in confusion. 

“Doesn’t poof, my ass,” Chase snorts. She shakes her head and starts to change. By change, she simply shrugs on a flannel over her tank top, slipping her loose jeans on. Harley on the other hand has to wiggle into her skinny jeans and throw on a band tee. There wasn’t really a reason for Castiel to leave, other than Chase wanted to talk to Harley alone. “So, what do you think he wants us to do?” 

“Save the world. Risk our lives. Y’know the usual.”

“How very typical.” Chase pours herself coffee. “Do you think he’ll let us get pie first? Even a muffin would suffice.”

“He better. I don’t get my pie, I start ripping throats out.”

“See, even though I know that’s a legitimate thing for you, I gotta say. I totally agree with that mentality.”

“What’s the point of being a vampire if you can’t make light of it?” Harley shrugs.

“No point that matters.”

“I am back,” a deep voice says. 

The girls turn to see Castiel in the same place as before, as though he’d never left.

“Man, you gotta loosen up,” Chase says. “Ever tried looking more, y’know, human?”

“No.”

“Cas, that really wasn’t that long. You’re lucky I mastered getting dressed in under a minute because I was always late to school. Poof like that and you’ll be labeled a perv.”

“I do not understand. I do not have any intention of seeing you in a less than modest state.”

“Again with the need to loosen up,” Chase says with an eye roll. “It’s a joke, Cas.”

“Kinda. Seriously though, lengthen your poofing periods.”

“You’ve been given time. Now, you have a job to do.”

“What is this job?” Chase asks.

“A seal is being broken. A ritual you have to stop, that causes a solar eclipse. You must find the demon performing this ritual, and stop it.”

“Any other information you can give us?”

“No.” Cas turns away slightly, concentrating on seemingly nothing. “Time is almost up. I will send you there now.”

“Pie. We need pie. I don’t get pie, I start ripping throats out.”

Cas looks vaguely startled, looking at Harley strangely. “You get physically violent when you do not have pie?”

“She does,” Chase says, shrugging. “Can you blame her? Pie is life.”

Cas’ eyes narrow, and he just takes an unnecessary breath, blinking slowly. “I do not understand.”

“I’m a vampire, kinda, sorta. It’s complicated. But basically cherry pie is the only thing that can assuage my thirst for blood.”

“I see,” Castiel responds, nodding slowly. “But, as for your job. I will send you there now.”

Before either girl can protest, Castiel has closed the distance between himself and them, placing three fingers on each of their foreheads.

***

Chase and Harley suddenly find themselves standing on the sidewalk of an old looking town, each holding a piece of pie by the crust which promptly breaks and falls on the sidewalk.

“Well,” Chase starts, looking down at her now empty hands. “At least he got us the pie.”

“Too literal for his own good,” Harley sighs.

“Okay, so first things first. We find a lead on wherever this demon might be. I say we start at the local diner that this town has got to have. What state are we even in? They better have apple pie, because I am not in the mood to mourn what is currently at my feet.”

The girls begin walking around town, getting their bearings and looking for a diner. Finally, they spot one. 

“Brimstone Diner. What are we? In medieval times?” Chase jokes. 

“I think it sounds cool, but then again I am a sucker for a renaissance festival.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like a must for us sometime. Dean would totally be down for it too. He’d probably get way too into it, but like, on the down low.”

Harley nodded and the two friends went into the diner and ordered some pie. Apple for Chase and cherry for Harley.

“So, what’re you girls in town for?” the older waitress asks them. “Oh, don’t be surprised, dear. We don’t get a lot of new folk, so it’s easy to spot ‘em.”

“Oh, uh,” Chase starts. “A friend sent us here. Told us about some fantastic spots to work. We’re journalist photographers.”

“Stupid question, but where are we?” Harley asks the waitress, who according to the nametag is called Agnus.

Chase shoots Harley a look. So does the waitress, though it isn’t the same look. 

“Did your friend not tell you?” She asks, slightly concerned. “Why, you’re in Ocean Springs, Mississippi.”

Chase laughs it off. “He did tell us, but Nova here probably wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m just really forgetful.”

“Well, that’s quite understandable, dear. My memory ain’t what it used to be either.” The waitress laughs slightly, waving her hand. “Anyway, let me go grab you your pie and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thank you,” Chase says, trying to be polite.

“Thanks, Agnus, lovely meeting you.” Harley says, waving goodbye.

Agnus brings them their pies and goes off to talk to another customer.

“So I guess we should head to the library after this? Find out what ritual can cause a solar eclipse.”

“Good idea,” Chase says, taking a bite of pie. She looks down in surprise, suppressing a moan of delight. “Holy God, this is good pie.”

Harley takes a bite of her pie, “Oh yeah, the best.”

The girls eat their pies, suppressing many a moan.

***

Our awesome, badass heroines spend hours at the library combing through book after book. They had tried so many different sections, trying to find the information in lore, religious texts, and mythology. Hell, Chase had even tried looking in historical cases just in case - even though this seal has obviously never been attempted before. She was simply desperate.

               “Hey, I think I found something,” Harley says, looking up, “By the souls of these seven victims I bind the sun and moon to my will. The moon shall block the sun and the seal shall break.”

               “That’s foreboding,” Chase says. 

               “It doesn’t specify what the seal is, but I think this is our gig. It calls for, get this, three virgins, two orphans, one fetus conceived out of wedlock, and the soul of a witness to the supernatural.”

               “Okay. Wow. That’s a lot of human sacrifice,” Chase says, absorbing the new information. “Also, an unborn kid? That’s just gross.”

Chase walks over to Harley’s side of their table to read the specifications of the seal. “Harley, look at this part. Because it’s an entire eclipse, it has to be on a full moon, right? When’s the next full moon?”

“Tonight,” Harley groans.

Chase lets out a long sigh. “Of course it is. Thank you, Castiel. Your timing is, like always, impeccable.”

“At least if we prevent it tonight it’s another month till they can try again?”

“True, but does this mean it can be attempted monthly? Because I did not sign up for this. Castiel can kiss my foot if he thinks I have the time, energy, or patience to deal with this every single month just to stop the apocalypse.” 

“Maybe they’ll just give up on it if we stop them?” Harley says, hopefully and unsure.

Chase shrugs. “I guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Damn demons. I swear Lillith is the bane of my existence.”

“I mean she is, quite literally, the bane of everyone’s existence. Honestly, she should get a hobby. I’m going to suggest knitting the next time I see her.”

“Knitting may be too hard though. She might go on a murder spree to vent out her knitting frustrations. What about crocheting.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she currently going on a murder spree to vent out her like, daddy issues? Crocheting is easier, true.”

“True, but a hobby is supposed to distract from that, not make it worse.”

“True. Wait, how did we start talking about this again? Moving on, where do we start in stopping this demon from breaking this seal?”

“First things first, I think we should look for potential victims.”

“Okay cool. I would say we do what we normally do, but considering Cas sent us here with no supplies, I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way. By gossiping.” Chase fakes a shudder, but is smiling nonetheless. 

“God, I hate gossiping with strangers. Shall we start with the town’s gossip column?”

“Sure.” Chase stands, overdramatically stretching. “Let’s get this bitch over with.”

***

Chase and Harley make a quick exit from the library and begin walking around town, on the lookout for anywhere they might find a newspaper, or signs for missing people. 

Finally, after wandering around for a while, Harley spots a newspaper stand. Quickly scanning through articles, there’s a prayer request filed under the town gossip section. It’s an anonymous request for a woman named Jessie Salinas, who has found out she is pregnant, and is also not married. 

Chase looks at the little article in disgust. “What a shitty thing to do to her. She’s obviously found out not too long ago, so you submit an anonymous ‘prayer’ request basically outing her situation to everyone? And it’s not even to ask for help! Just “keep her in mind”. People are so gross.”

“The worst part is they were probably ‘friends’ if Jessie told them.”

“Ouch, you’re right. I swear, if you were to do this to me, I’d probably hurt you.”

“I would never!” Harley says in mock offence knowing her friend didn’t actually think she would do it.

***

“Oh, look,” Chase says. They walk over to a tac board, where a missing person sign was hanging. “Thank God. I mean, not thank God, or. You know what. Whatever.”

The sign shows a picture of a boy around thirteen with blond hair. The name reads Jacob Stevens, and he was reported missing four days ago. 

“Well, I guess we have a couple leads?” Chase says questioningly.

“Now we just need to find five more. Should we head to Jessie’s place? Make sure her baby’s still kicking.”

“That’s probably our best bet. It’d be harder to figure out everything else first,” Chase agrees. “Where do you think we’ll find her?” 

“If we can get our hands on a computer finding her address shouldn’t be hard.”

“True. Back to the library?”

“Libraries, a hunter’s best friend.”

Chase laughs and they turn around, heading back the way they’d come.

***

Chase groans, hitting her head against the desk. “No address with that name pops up when I search it and- Oh my God, I’m an idiot.” Chase frantically backspaces, then types it in again, but this time searches for Jessica Salinas, and then grins proudly at her friend. “Found her. She lives not too far from here. West side of town, near the church.”

“Good, I’m not a fan of walking.”

“Tell me about it. He could have at least sent us with Jack.”

“When does our angel friend think things through?”

“Fair point. So he’s a friend now? Versus an ‘angelic acquaintance’?”

“He at least tried to give us pie.”

Chase shrugs. “Fair enough. Now, onto finding Jessie.”

“Off to find the Jessie, the wonderful Jessie of Oz.”

***

Chase and Harley stand on the porch of an older looking house, the paint peeling on the outside, but the garden of poppies looking very cared for. Chase reaches out a hand and knocks on the door. 

“I have my badge on me still. If you want to play cop.”

Chase reaches out and knocks once more, this time a little louder.

“Sounds good. You can introduce us then. Remember, I gave you the fake name Nova earlier. Best be consistent.”

“Coming!” A frantic female voice calls. Chase gives Harley a sideways glance, shrugging and taking a step back. A woman suddenly opens the door, her brown hair messily framing her face where it falls out of a haphazard bun. 

Her eyes are wide, but her smile wide and friendly. “Hi! Sorry, do I know you?” She asks, looking back and forth between the two girls.

“Hi,” Harley says, flashing her badge, “I’m agent Nova, this is agent Barry. We’re just asking around about the disappearances. Are you Jessie Salinas?”

Jessie, at most in her early twenties, looks confused for a moment. “Yeah, I am. Of course. Has there been another disappearance from the orphanage?”

Chase glances at Harley. “We are looking into the ones that have taken place. As far as you are aware, how many have there been?”

“Just the two I know of, oh, silly me. Would you like to come in?” Jessie opens the screen door, gesturing for Harley and Chase to enter the house.

“We’d love to,” Chase says. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Jessie leads them into a small, but cozy, living room and gestures for them to sit on the couch. “So, you are searching for the two orphans right? Jacob and Nathan?”

Chase shoots Harley a glance, a silent plea to say something, because she herself is unsure of how to proceed.

“Those are the ones. Have you been smelling any odd smells? Maybe rotten eggs?”

“Um, excuse me?” Jessie asks. “You mean around my house or around town in general? Because the old bar always smells like something went bad, but I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with those poor children.”

“Sulfur was found at the scene of the abductions. It could be an environmental clue. It could lead up to the kidnapper.”

Jessie nods. “Oh, okay. You’re only looking into the orphans, right?”

Chase nods. “Yes, though if you have knowledge about any others, we can pass it along to our partners. Have there been any other signs of sulfur that you know of?”

Jessie shakes her head, frowning. “I’m not one to ask about that. Though you could always ask the Crawfords. Their daughter went missing a couple weeks ago, but we aren’t sure if there is any connection between the two.”

“Of course. I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

“If I may ask, where did you learn that I may have any knowledge on the disappearances?”

Chase casts a long sideways glance at Harley. “Well,” she starts slowly. “We have reason to believe that another abduction might occur, and we wanted to investigate any of the younger adults in town. There seems to be an age progression with each kidnapping.”

Jessie shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure I have no reason to worry. If you’re asking around town, I’m sure you’ve heard about my, uh, situation.”

“We believe your situation may put you at higher risk.” Harley says regretfully, “Our Unsub might see it as a two for one.”

Jessie lets out a nervous laugh. 

Chase leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees, trying to seem more open and comforting. “Is there anyone you know in this town that has given you any reason to fear for yourself or your child. An ex-boyfriend. A friend. A random person that hurled an insult at you. Anything of that sort?”

Jessie shakes her head. “No. I mean, there are plenty of underhanded comments, but only what you would expect from a small town this conservative. But I don’t think I can name anyone that has threatened me.”

“Has anyone shown more interest than you would deem normal? Like, I don’t know, an old teacher or mentor. Anyone you trust based on circumstance, but wouldn’t have thought would normally reach out to help you.”

Jessie pauses. “Not really, no. The only person that I really talk to about the baby is one of the supervisors of our church. She has been great help, because she herself has had three children. Just some advice on how to take care of myself. But I don’t really talk to anyone else about it and no one else has reached out.”

“What’s her name?” Harley asks.

“Vanessa Wali.”

Chase nods, sitting back. “Well, thank you. And if you do hear anything from anyone that seems out of the ordinary, let us know.”

A phone rings from the other room. “I’m so sorry. I have to get that, it might be my doctor.” Jessie gets up and leaves the room.

“Do you want to stay with Jessie or go question Vanessa?”

“I can go do the questioning if you want to stay here. One thing I do have to wonder though. I thought the person we’re looking for is a demon, right? Jessie says she only meets up with Vanessa at the church. How is that possible?”

“Maybe the demon isn’t working alone? I don’t know. It’s our best lead so far.”

“True. That and the bar. Jessie mentioned there’s been sulfur smells there. I can check out both. I’ll call you after I meet with Vanessa, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan partner.”

***

Chase finds herself in an old Methodist church fit with everything stereotypical, from wooden pews, to a bell in the bell tower on top of the steeple. She hesitantly opens the doors, praying to the God she now knows is out there somewhere (though she isn’t sure if she should take Castiel’s certainty to heart yet) that Vanessa is there today. 

Scanning the room, she spots a pastor near the altar, shuffling papers, likely sermon notes. She approaches him cautiously, a hand in her pocket, ready to grab the knife at a moment’s notice. 

“Hi, can I ask you a question really quickly? Sorry, I don’t mean to disturb you,” Chase says, keeping her voice quiet in the mostly empty room.

“No, no, always happy to help a child of God.”

Chase flashes a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels. “I was told I could see a Vanessa Wali. Is she here today?”

“She actually isn’t. What did you need her for?”

“Oh, I was told to see her to pick up some medication for Jessie. You know, Jessie Salinas? Do you know where I can find Vanessa?”

“She should be at her house, across the lane where the cherry trees are.”

“Thank you! Have a nice day.”

“Of course!” He exclaims in a bright tone. Chase waves, taking a quick exit. She rushes over to the large house across the way, the aroma of cherries strongly taking over Chase’s senses. 

Chase immediately recognizes the sickly sweet smell of Valerian Root hidden in the cherry scent. Chase shakes her head, pinching her wrist to stay alert, hoping the Valerian Root is coincidence. Of course, when has anything in her life been purely coincidence?

A symbol scrawled hastily over the door looks like it could pass as religious, but Chase immediately recognizes it as an occult sigil. Well, shit.

Turning on her heel, Chase redirects herself from the front porch. Pulling out her phone, she hurriedly calls Harley, already booking it back to Jessie’s house. Harley’s answering machine picks up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Harley. You better be fine, or I’m going to actually kill you.”

The door is ajar when Chase rushes up the porch steps, blanching. The room smells of Valerian Root, a thickly sweet scent that makes Chase’s eyelids droop, and she curses under her breath.

“Harley, I swear to God.”

***

Harley noticed a sickly sweet smell creeping into the house and turned to Jessie. Jessie’s eyes began to droop. Harley managed to fight off sleep a little longer before collapsing. When Harley came to, Jessie was still out and they were both tied to a pole in what looked like a basement. 

“The bar,” Harley mutters under her breath, realizing the demon knocked them out with... Valerian Root? 

That doesn’t make sense. Valerian Root is more of a witchy thing. There were seven other people in the room, but only two were free. Two women were standing by a table. They were conversing over a large pewter bowl. Harley couldn’t hear them. She started undoing  the rough rope behind her.

“Hey assholes, why don’t you untie me and we’ll see how this plays out,” Harley says, pulling the witch and demon’s attention away from the ritual and onto her.

“How are you awake already?” A woman in her late thirties with short light brown hair asked, “The Valerian Root should still be affecting you?”

“I’m not exactly normal.” Harley spit out.

“My, my, you’re a fun one,” The other woman says. She was in her twenties with long black hair. Her eyes flashed black for a second. “I’ll almost miss you when you’re gone.” 

The demon crouches down to Harley’s level, “I’m Hazel. These are your new friends. Rueben, Stephanie, Evangeline, Jacob, Ray, and you’ve already met dear sweet Jessie,” Hazel listed off the names pointing to each corresponding person. “But who are you dear? Hmm?”

“What’s your pay grade? Must be pretty low if you don’t know who I am.”

“I want to hear it out of your pretty little mouth.”

“You aren’t too bad yourself. Are you the one that tied me up? I’m not opposed to bondage.”

“You wish. You’re vermin that’s wandered into my trap. The dirt on my heel. You’re a disgusting worthless halfbreed.”

“And I’m damn good at it.” Harley sneers. She gets free of her bonds, grabs Hazel’s head, and slams it down onto her knee dazing the demon. Harley pulls her gun out and shoots at the witch hitting her in the shoulder. 

***

Chase rushes into the bar and sees Harley shoot a woman with short hair in the shoulder. Another woman straightens and goes to attack Harley from behind. Eyes widening, Chase rushes up in time to stab her short pocket knife into the back of the woman’s neck.

“Harley, the demon blade!”

Harley spins around and quickly assesses the situation, taking her demon blade and stabbing the woman in her stomach. The woman’s body collapses, the demon now gone. With a quick shot to the head, the witch is also dead. 

Chase breathes heavily, putting her gun back into its correct place in her waistband. Harley starts untying the kidnappees. Chase shortly follows suit.

“I’m hungry. Wanna head back to the diner?”

“That sounds like a great idea. Let me drop an anonymous tip to the local police and I’ll be ready to go.”

After doing just that, Harley and Chase find their way back to Brimstone Diner. 

“How is it that you manage to get kidnapped by a demon and a witch?” Chase teases, Agnes, the same woman who served them earlier, walking away with their orders. “Losing your touch?”

“That witch made a Valerian Root knockout bomb.”

“I figured. Cherries can only hide the smell so much. Honestly she should’ve known better. The Valerian mixed with the cherries just made the entire place smell like it’d been drenched with cough syrup.”

“I’m just lucky I came to when I did. Guess it’s one of the benefits of being a halfbreed.”

Chase wrinkles her nose at the word. “I suppose.”

Agnes comes back with two orders of pie, gives a smile, then walks off to serve other customers. 

Harley and Chase immediately begin to eat, the day’s efforts having made them extremely hungry. 

“You saved the seal,” A male voice says. Chase and Harley snap to attention, startled by the sudden appearance of Castiel. Castiel sits next to Chase in the booth, and stares between the two girls inquisitively. 

“Can you stop poofing everywhere. You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” Harley complains.

“I do not poof,” Castiel replies sternly.

“‘Cept you do.” Harley fires back.

Castiel just sighs knowing that it is a waste of breath to argue with her.

“Why do you sound surprised, anyway? About us saving the seal?” Chase asks.

Castiel looks at them both carefully. “I did not predict the outcome of this attempt to be successful.”

Chase looks at him, vaguely annoyed. “You sent us on a hunt you thought we’d fail? Then why even send us?”

“My brothers and sisters were busy.”

“Well next time let us grab weapons and stuff. We barely scraped by on what we had.” Harley says, annoyed.

“It was best you go immediately.”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind taking us back once we’re finished with our food, that’d be great.”

Castiel nods slowly. “Alright.”

***

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to poofing,” Chase says, disoriented after being transported back to the motel. “Also, quick question, you did tell Sam and Dean where we were, right?”

Castiel suddenly looks more uncomfortable than normal. “They were both otherwise engaged. Dean should be able to fill you two in on what happened to him.”

“And Sam?”

“Sam is an unreliable source,” Castiel says evasively. 

“How is Sam an unreliable source? We’ve known him longer than you,” Harley questions.

“Dean is about to leave to find Sam. You can catch up to him easily, since he only now left.”

“Okay, thanks. Wanna tell us where we’re going?” Chase asks.

“425 Waterman,” Castiel responds quietly. “But, I’m warning you. You won’t like what you find.”

#AngelsandAcceptance #AaA #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #chase winchester #harley pawlak #castiel #cas

[paperclipninja]

Lucifer post-ep ramble 5x01

Hi there, long time fangirl, first time Lucifan. After devouring all 4.5 seasons of this magnificent show in an impressive/alarming (all a matter of perspective) amount of time, I have very quickly found myself well and truly obsessed dedicated to all things Lucifer. And when a show grabs me like this one has, I tend to have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I can’t help but share, and so the post-ep ramble was born. It will probably contain many words, it may or may not be particularly coherent, there will definitely be over-analysing, but I thought I might indulge in re-capping the season 5 eps as I re-watch, so this is the first ramble off the rank. 

‘Really Sad Devil Guy’ (A+ ep name btw) kicks off as we’re still scrambling to pick up all our heart pieces after the season 4 finale, which is why Mr. Said Out Bitch (aka Lee Garner) being in Hell is such a cracker of an opening. Lucifer just waiting below deck on Fishizzle II (wth happened to Fishizzle I??) to greet him with his trademark ‘hello’ made me disproportionately happy, mostly because he was on my screen but also because his encounters with Mr. SOB are always great and this was no exception. Getting an insight into ‘life in Hell’, the way the characters in the Hell loops are played by Demons and Lucifer in action as the King was fab at this point in the series. And does anyone else have a visceral reaction to Lucifer stopping that bullet? I know it’s brief, I cannot explain it, it might be the command he has, the fact it’s awesome, but it makes me FEEL things. Just me? Cool.

I think what really strikes me in the way Lucifer just has to pop in on Mr. SOB upon hearing of his arrival, is the fact that he is a link to Lucifer’s life on Earth. They’ve existed in the same places there, breathed the same air, it’s a way for Lucifer to make that connection to his home more tangible. And when he realises where Mr. SOB’s hell loop has them moored, at Marina Del Ray, the way Lucifer says 'Los Angeles' with such yearning makes those heart pieces I had started cobbling back together really begin to ache. What this episode pulls off so brilliantly is the way Chloe and Lucifer remain connected despite being apart, and it’s all set up when Lucifer tells Mr. SOB, ‘You know, there's a good chance I know who's on your case. To them it's only been a few months, a blink of an eye, but here it's been much much longer’.

What’s happening ‘below deck’ in Hell (sorry...or am I?) is of course mirrored at the crime scene, where Maze is still calling Ella Ellen (never change Maze ILY) and Ella is banging on about Lucifer not responding to her DM’s and texts and it’s all so on brand and the thought of her sending Lucifer a clip of a parrot dancing to techno and him finding it funny is just too perf. Maze having Chloe’s back from the get-go and telling Ella to ‘read the room’ just shows how far this Demon has come. And of course Chloe saying that she hasn’t even really thought about Lucifer since he left...(spoiler alert: she has).

Seeing Maze and Chloe out drinking and dancing, somehow they're kinda dorky together and I love it, but it’s also really clear that they’re both leaning on each other pretty heavily and being there for one another and honestly, I love literally every combination of characters on Lucifer, you put any two together and the dynamic is 100% their own and these two are up there. It’s so weird seeing Amandiel running Lux, I big L LOVE Amenadiel but it’s just...wrong. Plus hats off to D.B. because his delivery of ‘No one sells drugs in my place...without me getting a piece of the action’, not gonna lie, I was THROWN.

So are we assuming that the number of months Lucifer has been gone = the number of times Chloe has rocked up to work with a hangover? Lol at the sunglasses but also, you do you Chloe, whatever you gotta do babe. Just like Amenadiel running Lux is like watching a slightly off AU version of the show, so is seeing Maze and Chloe as partners at work. Don’t get me wrong, Maze clearly supporting her and when they’re interrogating a lead, seeing Chloe and Maze have such a groove that they’re finishing each other's sentences and communicating without talking, I dig it. But I love that while it’s great, it still doesn’t feel right. Because that there is why this show is so clever, as an audience we crave the return to the way things were just as the characters we are watching do.

Linda being a completely OTT mum is so fab. I could write an entire essay about my Linda love. Her adamance that ‘Charlie’s special’ and Ella’s ‘every child is special in their mum’s eyes, huh?’ sums it up perfectly. Did I mention I adore Ella? I definitely get the distinct impression Ella is doing a bit of self-reflection, her comment about being drawn to the bad boys for some reason clearly foreshadowing, but also her reflecting that she deserves a good guy for once (just not this ep when there is a bad boy/potential suspect to be hooked up with). I am curious to see the ‘darkness’ Ella has alluded to in earlier seasons being explored further and feel like this is sowing the seeds and I’m also waiting for a significant Linda/Ella D&M at some point. But clearly not this point, because 'science lesson Wednesdays...I checked your schedule and that's your day off' Linda is NOT about deep and meaningfuls (or anyone who isn’t a 2 month old baby), you need to DIAL IT DOWN friend.  I love that it takes Trixie pulling some funny faces and Dan offering some sage parenting advice as he returns the self-help books (love the irony there) for Linda to begin to chill a bit.          

So Dan has gone all new age with his oils and self improvement and you know what? I love it. And then of course we have Amenadiel needing to help make the world a safer place, he just needs to make sure for Charlie ya know and ugh my ovaries. I must say, I was relieved to realise that the club life had not in fact corrupted the delightful warrior we all love after all - it’s all a ploy to catch a REAL BIG TIME drug dealer (nooooo I can feel the second hand embarrassment already...)! Amenadiel setting up the ‘drug bust’, telling the dealer, ‘looks like gooood drugs’, oh you dear sweet naïve Angel you. We of course discover that the bust is, well, a bust, because the ‘drug lord’ is actually a kid trying to offload his mum’s pain meds *insert facepalm emoii here*. But rather than ridicule or be angry, Dan is so understanding and supportive of Amenadiel and once again offers up advice and I really am so into this friendship on every level and the care and openness it models.

Meanwhile, the genius parallel between what is happening on Earth and in Hell really takes effect as Chloe and Maze go undercover (I mean, they are a glam couple lbh) to the poker game while Lucifer is at a game hosted by the same suspect in Mr. SOB’s ‘exquisite’ Hell loop. His exclamation that it’s exquisite reflects that Lucifer and Mr. SOB are not that different, that it’s the kind of place Lucifer might manifest as well, but I also feel that Lucifer could be admiring his own Kingdom’s handiwork at creating LA with such accuracy from someone’s subconscious. He allows himself to be absorbed in it, ‘City of Angels, I’ve missed you’, and I can’t help but get the impression that hearing Lucifer call LA this for the first time is confirmation that his Heaven, or place of Angels, is in fact there with Chloe.

Chloe remains firmly in the forefront of Lucifer’s mind this entire episode, with him asking ‘what would she do?’ and wanting to replicate the life he had with her at the precinct. But of course he is soon reminded of his reality, as he tries to get more information from Mr. SOB who is being useless. Lucifer incorrectly calling him ’Detective’ shatters the illusion that he is any closer to Chloe, and this is impressively emphasised as he erases the LA cityscape to reveal the Hellscape. For a moment he’d let himself believe he was back there. Back home. His, ‘you’re not her’ making some of my heart pieces fall out once again.

But then the messenger arrives, ‘Lord Morningstar, there’s someone you should meet’ and lo and behold it’s guy who just got hit by car up on the Earth-side of this investigation and I.am. loving. it. Also, did Lucifer put out a Hell-wide memo that if ANYONE arrives from LA they are to be bought to him so he can send messages to Chloe through their bodies??? NO REALLY I'M FINE. Having a Demon possess the dead dude’s body to pass on the tip from Lucifer was just TOO MUCH. His, ‘hey is that Mazikeen?’ made me actually lol but also, look how far we’ve come! Chloe doesn’t even flinch when the dead guy wakes up possessed to pass on Lucifer’s message. I’m so proud. 

'It's safe where you stored it' caused me way more amusement than was perhaps intended, but Ella, Maze and Chloe together, trying to figure out what it meant, it's such a great moment and the comedic timing is gold. Also, the fact it actually helps the case, ugh, Chloe and Lucifer are still connected and working together even though they are not on the same plane of existence and I’m just going to need to curl up for a minute because feelings.

You know who else is having a lot of feelings in this ep? The Devil himself. After he is satisfied he has passed on the message, he’s done with Mr. SOB, sending him, ‘back to your torture. And me to mine’. Any remnants of my heart are now once again shattered all over the floor in case you’re wondering. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the fact that being away from Chloe is so painful, almost revealing more than he ever usually would when Mr. SOB asks if she’s ‘somebody important?' to which he replies, 'more than you could ever know'. 

He only just stops himself before telling Mr. SOB her name, when he realises he's trying to manipulate him. And I'm so glad, Lucifer so sparingly uses Chloe’s name, it's always significant when he does and I feel like he reserves those moments for only between them. But Mr. SOB really does sum it up when he observes, ‘you just seem like a really sad Devil guy’, BECAUSE HE IS A REALLY SAD DEVIL GUY (can we just take a moment to appreciate how not at all scared of Lucifer Mr. SOB is, he doesn’t even refer to him as THE Devil, just ‘Devil guy’. It’s kind of nice that he sees and accepts him as both Devil and human without really questioning it). 

The parallel continues as Chloe and Lucifer are talking to a sister and brother  and the way this highlights the place they're both in. It's just brilliant writing and execution. Chloe is talking to Meg about her brother’s death and both her and Lucifer's yearning for one another is palpable. At the same time, Maze telling Chloe that they don’t need Lucifer and kissing Chloe highlights Maze’s desire for connection and love. She wants it so badly and the way she shuts down when Chloe suggests they stop working together breaks my heart.

When Lucifer takes Mr. SOB to the root of his Hell loop, yes, it’s about Lucifer projecting his own guilt and lack of self worth onto him, but his assertion that, 'it is inevitable sooner or later you're going to disappoint them all over again. So you'd rather stay away for all eternity’, really feels as though it carries multiple meanings. As a self-referential comment, is Lucifer talking about Heaven or Earth? Is it his fear of disappointing and letting down Chloe and the other humans or is it his belief that he disappointed his family? And if Angels self-actualise does that mean he was never 'stuck' in Hell at all and could have returned to Heaven? I certainly feel there is some sort of realisation occurring here. Or could be completely over-analysing it. Why not have both 🤷‍♀️

You know the line that just up and got me though? ‘Whose hell is this anyway? Are you sure this is my hell? You just here torturing yourself’- Mr. SOB calling Lucifer out is A MOMENT. And I can’t help but wonder if a part of it is Lucifer wanting Mr. SOB to come to terms with his own guilt, wanting to help him because he knows he’s not evil and he is trying to reconcile his own guilt too. If he can help Mr. SOB face and let go of the guilt then he has a chance of it too. And that’s when Mr. SOB challenges Lucifer, pointing out that he missed his chance, ‘but what about you?’ 'The self-centred simplicity of you humans never ceases to amaze me...I am here out of responsibility, I had to protect humanity, I had to protect HER', the delivery of this line, the frustration of being misunderstood, of ppl thinking that he acts for himself when his very reason for being back in Hell is for others, I can feel it through the screen.

The dead guy we saw get shot in the kitchen appearing at that moment with news about ‘the Detective’ and then cutting straight back to the shoot up in the house, file under: how to brilliantly edit. “Lucifer” appearing; the whistle, the casually strolling in, the ‘hello bad guys’ = I was FOOLED. I mean you have to admit, the ‘thought I'd give you a hand' pun was well played, classic Lucifer, very convincing.  My shipper heart was SO FULL for the split second Lucifer and the Detective kissed, until Chloe realised that something was off and her open eyes told us something was up. The cut back to Hell and seeing Lucifer still standing there with Mr. SOB...you may have heard my ‘noooooooo’ from wherever you are. ‘She’ll be just fine without me’...said every Devil who has a dick twin brother who’s going to try and destroy, nay STEAL, his life and love of his life ever.

Michael, you're an evil bastard but damn you nailed that villainous smirk over-the-shoulder pose in the final shot. Whatever you have in store, I will no doubt revel in your awfulness and be confused about whether or not I hate you. 

#lucifer #lucifans #lucifer 5x01 #ramble #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #ella lopez #dan espinoza #amenadiel #deckerstar #recap

[sunlitneon]

The Ultimate End to Junk Mail

I am no longer my nearby place's best patron yet they continue to send me direct mail. I'm not inquisitive about double glazing,  Custom Made Jewellery splendor packages or my new regions pizza parlour. Yet I become with coupon offers for own family sized pizza offers and spray tan programs.

It doesn't count how an awful lot green manipulate you have got at the inside of your house, unsolicited mail will discover its way to you.

Don't worry, you may considerably lessen it.

(To highlight you can't a hundred% forestall direct mail and I'll give an explanation for why further down.)

Firstly, you are probable thinking why I am talking approximately direct mail right?

In a nutshell, forests are reduce down and worked right into a water pulp mixture that when manipulation, creates the lovely factor we name paper.

The paper is then shipped to companies who print on it after which ship it to you.

Did you already know that Junk mail produces extra greenhouse fuel emissions than nine million vehicles?

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING JUNK MAIL

We all understand the significance that bushes should maintain our ecosystems and international temperature. If we forestall the call for for direct mail, we will lessen further environmental effect.

It is so smooth to pick out up the undesirable mail and throw it straight into the recycling bin.

Yes, it'll be recycled however the company who despatched the mail would not recognise you probably did no longer need to obtain it. And if they may be never advised their ability customers do now not want to acquire their mail, they may hold to ship it and retain to purpose environmental destruction.

First, you want to pick out the 2 sorts of direct mail you could receive, named and non-named.

Named mail is what comes thru your door addressed to a person in your own home.

And non-named, yes, you guessed it, are the letters that are not addressed to all people.

They likely kingdom something along the traces of 'To the Owner', 'To the brand new proprietor of a exceptional brief net company.'

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING NAMED MAIL

*Opt out of advertising lists

If you sign on for whatever that asks for your own home deal with, make sure you're taking out a magnifying glass and search for any statistics that explains the advertising phrases.

Usually, with out you confirming so, agencies and companies will upload you to their marketing mailing lists unless you country in any other case.

If you don't opt-out for advertising and marketing records, to procure your self a massive heap of direct mail. Imagine it like the scene from Harry Potter... "NO POST ON SUNDAYS."

*Register without cost with MPS (UK simplest)

MPS will get rid of your call and deal with from the UK enterprise lists of income promotions, marketing and direct advertising.

Take notice, it is able to absorb to 4 months till you note a discount in any undesirable named mail.

*Contact your nearby electoral roll register office

Ask you nearby register workplace to take away you from the open check in.

The open sign up includes your complete name and deal with and can be purchased by using a member of the public, businesses and advertising administrators.

*Swap all of your paper billing to online

A simple piece of recommendation, however you will be surprised at how often that is neglected.

*Contact the sender at once

Contact the sender through e-mail or cellphone and inform them you want to now not obtain any mail from them with on the spot effect.

*Return the junk mail without delay to the sender

Cross out your cope with and write 'junk mail, please return to sender' on the envelope.

You don't ought to pay any postage for the return, but the sender might get hold of a return price.

The return fee makes it much more likely that motion will be taken to dispose of you from their advertising and marketing listing.

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING NON-NAMED MAIL

Have you ever puzzled how direct mail not addressed to anyone in your home falls through your letterbox?

E.G Domino's commercials and your local window glazing enterprise?

*Notify Royal Mail

Thanks to Royal mail, they have got the job of delivering leaflets to every residence.

You can opt out via sending them an e-mail that informs them you no longer want to get hold of advertising mail.

They will send you a letter which you need to sign and ship again to them.

Take word, it could take in to 6 weeks before you noticed a discount within the marketing non-named mail and the opt-out carrier simplest lasts for 2 years.

*Make a signal or a poster

Get innovative and make a poster that states you do not need to receive junk mail.

Stick it in your letterbox, make sure it's especially close to the doorway of the letter container. (Not everyone will notice the sign inside the backside nook of a window.)

*State precisely what mail you do not want to acquire.

Not all people will think their commercials for their newly opened beauty salon is taken into consideration junk mail to your household.

Remember- Try to make your own poster earlier than you print one.

*Contact the sender directly

Contact the sender by way of electronic mail or phone, inform them you wish to no longer receive any mail from them with on the spot effect.

*Return the unsolicited mail immediately to the sender

Cross out your address and write 'direct mail, please return to sender' at the envelope.

You do not should pay any postage for the go back, however the sender would acquire a go back fee.

The go back charge makes it much more likely that motion may be taken to do away with you from their advertising and marketing listing.

BUT, I'M STILL GETTING JUNK MAIL?

Okay, so let's consider you're nevertheless getting junk mail.

Unfortunately, humans (especially those who are spreading the phrase approximately their nearby commercial enterprise) will forget about your no direct mail poster.

Don't worry, there are approaches to reuse your unsolicited mail earlier than you positioned it on your recycling bin.

Here are some thoughts to get your brain juice going.

Note-paper - Use the returned of direct mail letters as word paper

Card layout - Reuse the designs to make Celebration playing cards and gift tags

Compost - Add brown envelopes and white non-glossy paper in your compost pile.

Remove - Any plastic home windows and tacky glue strips first

Recycle - Add the paper to your recycling bin

Stuff things with it - You could make draught excluders and pin cushions in case you package the paper tightly and overlay a thick cloth

Animal bedding - Hamsters and gerbils need bedding, save yourself a few pennies by means of shredding your junk mail

Paper mache - Get innovative and build structures along with your kids of for yourself

Paper baskets - You can fold and coil paper strips to make baskets or any length you fancy

Jewellery - Just as above, you may coil the paper into any form you need and put on it as an excellent looking piece of jewellery.

Seed pots - You can make a container and use that as an opportunity to plastic plant pots. Better yet, the self-made seed pot can be positioned immediately into the floor.

[in-tua-deep]

How do you think things would have changed if Five has come back even younger than in canon? Like if he came back as 7 or 8 or even younger? Also, I love your writing. You’re an amazing writer and I love reading your stuff.

first of all that would be hilarious because as much as media has tricked you into thinking older child actors (who are easier to work with) are younger (I mean case in point, Five is supposed to be thirteen but the actor is fifteen and those two years can make a big difference at that age) or animated movies can’t decide on a size for their character, but for real seven-year-olds in real life are BABIES

that’s like. the equivalent of a second grader?? I think i was about to go into year three living in the netherlands. I thought the year six kids were ancient. I didn’t care about bodily harm and would just hurl myself into cartwheels and handstands (nowadays not so much)

That was about the age I was losing teeth for the Very First Time and also the age I almost gave myself a concussion playing on the playground equipment (I blacked out and woke up in the nurses office lmao) and I thought the singing talents of Sandy from Hamtaro were the greatest in the world (the twirling ribbon song was formative for me)

seven was also the age for me that i realized that romance was The Worst because my best friend george decided that the pulling pigtails version of bugging me was a sure fire way to get my attention or something like that. but like,, george and me had chicken pox together. we pretended we were cheetahs in our treetop bunkbed nest together (we had a very loose grasp of the difference between cheetahs and jaguars and other big cats, admittedly). He was my best friend he didn’t need to pull my hair or anything rip

like can you even IMAGINE if five came back as a second grader?? yeah like maybe someone would serve thirteen-year-old Five black coffee but no one is going to just hand this baby child anything with caffeine are you kidding me

his feet wouldn’t even be able to reach the peDALS OF THE CAR

wow this would inconvenience him so much

i can’t even find a picture of my brother that young smh but here’s him and me when he was? probably about nine or ten and I was actually probably about six and smiling with a closed mouth to hide the fact that i was missing teeth or something smh

that is TWO WHOLE BABIES right there i’m just genuinely dying at the thought of Five popping out and he’s just. a gradeschooler. that suit would have been swimming on him and he’s got little chubby cheeks built to absorb shock and whatever atrocious child haircut he had at that age 

(i have posted before about my genuine shock that five was ten in the comics. ten!! that’s a whole baby! a child! W H A T)

but?? does he pop up from jumping through his portal and look in the mirror and find that he’s missing some teeth? Can he whistle air through the gaps? i’m just picturing seven-year-old five getting socked in the face and losing some teeth or something and diego is right there to patronizingly tell him that it’s okay they’re probably just baby teeth and five is about to punch diego’s teeth out in a second if he keeps that up by jove

imagine five jumping and standing on the counter and he still can’t reach the marshmallows because they’re on the top shelf of the cupboard do you know how angry that would make him?? he would have about 60% less time for his siblings bullshit than normal because his small stature can only hold so much emotion at any one time and he has decided to go with seething rage for the foreseeable future

can you imagine how difficult that would be for Allison though?? Five at thirteen was bad but Five-at-around-Claire’s-age??? a billion times worse and she’s probably going to either be super avoidant because it’s painful or full on protective mama bear

it would definitely change a lot of plot stuff because i mean. no one’s going to let this tiny child drive. he can’t reach the pedals, duh. however, he might persuade one of the siblings (diego and klaus, probably) to drive him to griddy’s instead? Because with the options being “so help me i will walk there myself. alone. at night. as a small and innocent looking child” and driving him and keeping him company i think the latter wins out

(i’d nix griddy’s altogether but i’m way too invested in hazel and agnes getting together tbh)

hey wait does being that young mean that five doesn’t have his umbrella tattoo?? huh. well regardless if diego and klaus accompany him then the plot point of agnes telling the assassin squad about the tattoo can still happen so i guess it’s a moot point

but honestly the drama of having this tiny child just. completely annihilate the hit squad is hilarious to me, and it would also hit home the fact that hey! five might be telling the truth about everything and isn’t messed up by time travel! i mean whomst the fuck else would walk into a room and zero in on the seven-year-old no one else knows exists or is assumed dead by literally the whole ass world (and even if they didn’t he’s supposed to be 29) and demand he come with them and shit like man

Klaus: hey five what do you have

Five, stabbing his own arm to take the tracking device out: a knife

Diego: NO

other fun points include: the siblings bodily picking five up and five behaving like a very aggressive small breed of dog while simultaneously being super touch-starved and secretly appreciating being carried but would never admit it (whilst sober that is)

either they kept the old uniforms and five wears that or they have to scrounge up whatever they can find which means that five is dressed in some of claire’s clothes allison found stuffed in the bottom of her suitcase until they can go shopping and i’m not sure which is better tbh

hazel and cha-cha assuming that five is actually either diego or klaus bc those were the two adults in the coffee shop with the umbrella tattoo and eventually being confronted with the fact that their legendary adversary is a gradeschooler

five just being. so tired. all the time. my bedtime at seven years old was probably like. 8:30PM. kids need a lot of sleep!! so just five trying to keep himself awake because he has important stuff to do!! but doing the nod and bob because he can’t keep his eyes open

the trying-to-be-helpful but mildly-condescending strangers who stop five or talk down to him increase by tenfold. Teenagers out an about on the street along? eh. a seven-year-old? five is going to get so many concerns “where are your parents, sweetheart?” that he IS going to snap and kill a well meaning middle aged woman in the middle of the street

in a similar note the number of people who assume that he is the child of whatever sibling he happens to be in proximity to also increases tenfold and five does Not Appreciate This (and neither do half the siblings tbh bc now they have to pretend that they are responsible for this tiny feral child)

“FUCK” five says, loudly, prompting gasps from the delicate natured passerbys. 

“you can’t fucking say that, dude, you’re like. a baby.” klaus says, equally loudly and making everyone in earshot 70% more scandalized

“I am not associated with them” diego informs the masses with an edge of desperation

luther is just. so massive next to this tiny version of five. he could hold him in like, one hand. and maybe luther at one point was really good with kids but with his new body he’s awkward and it’s very sad

no one bats an eye at child Five toting an Entire Half of a Mannequin that is probably as big as he is around. Billy’s kid is currently emotionally attached to a brick he found in the alley behind his school. Gertie’s granddaughter refuses to leave the house without an old sock filled with pebbles tucked under her arm. Gary’s stepkid found a piece of driftwood on the beach and now it’s in their bed every night. Kids are weird and at least Five’s has a face for him to talk to i guess??

instead of luther threatening dolores he just looks at five with this gun that is way too big for him to have a hold of really and just. reaches out and scoops five up under his armpits and he’s just furiously wiggling and growling and luther is like “nope not putting you down until we agree that murder is not a solution”

every interaction with the handler is probably about 112% more creepy honestly but also what about the job?? either five a) gets an appropriately child sized desk like the ones you find in an actual gradeschool or b) he gets some kind of boosterseat for his chair and just has to sit at this desk that is comically oversized for him

the squad go to a restaurant and the server brings over the menus and hands five a children’s menu. without a word klaus just plucks it from five’s hands and substitutes it for his own because they have been kicked out of six whole restaurants and he is willing to eat the children’s chicken nugget meal if he had to god damn it

the apocalypse doesn’t happen because vanya is literally incapable of hurting a grade schooler right in front of her regardless of how pissed off at her family in general she is. that is a whole child. vanya works with children for her job. she can’t hurt an entire child in front of her?? like she can destroy the world and all the abstract children but this one child right in front of her? who is also her long lost brother and former sole confidant as children who wasn’t there for any of the general bullshit she just went through?? not so much

but like. even after the stop the apocalypse there’s still the issue of what to do with this entire child. like at least as a teenager five would be able to be somewhat independent but seven-year-old five can’t reach the sink to wash his hands without a step stool 

just the squad coming together to look after five without quite letting five know that’s what they’re doing because they don’t want to wake up to a knife in their chest or anything smh

five and claire meet and become an unstoppable duo of terror. patrick is an actually competent parent who is so exhausted 24/7 from raising his daughter that he just accepts five immediately because?? his brother-in-law being a time travelling 58-year-old in the body of a grade schooler who is partially feral from over forty years alone and probably has untreated ptsd? okay might as well happen

patrick “i didn’t trust allison with a child and yet i still trust her way more than the rest of you so i’m going to schedule five a doctor’s appointment or something because god knows he’s probably not up to date on his vaccinations and he’s hanging around claire and i doubt any of y’all even thought about that” hargreeves

the hargreeves all go to an amusement park as a family bonding activity. the mistake becomes clear when it’s revealed that five is too short to go on half the rides. the resulting meltdown gets them all kicked out and Diego just has five tossed over his shoulder still hurling insults at the ride attendant as they hoof it out of there

the family has to figure out everywhere they can go within walking distance because there’s still a cold war going on between allison and five over whether he has to be in a booster seat for any car rides or not

it’s basically just shenanigans with the family and five trying to figure out how to coexist and compromise and also look after one another when it’s been every man for themself pretty much all their lives

#this post is a mess tbh #far tua long #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #i think seven might have been the age i learned to ride a bike without training wheels #but i also had one of those little seats on my mum's bike for when we actually had to go somewhere at some speed #to be fair i lived in the netherlands which is like the bike capital of the world or something #i rambled so much but like #seven is a CHILD #i feel like movies and tv shows and animated stuff messed up our perceptions on how child a child is but here we go

[yashalex]

Relationship: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant Chapters: 1/? Summary: Eliott Demaury is a driver, but also he’s a spy... well, sort of. Somehow it’s become his job to look after troubled children of rich businessmen. But Lucas Lallemant is a real problem that Eliott never really saw coming. AO3

Chapter 1 Eliott gets a job as the driver of Lucas Lallemant

Eliott Demaurywasn't the one who believed in such term as an «a stroke of luck». Everything he had ever achieved was the result of his right and not so right choices, which he had no other choice but to make through his whole life. His first correct decision was to help a seventh-year-old girl to walk home after her severe fall from the pink bike with a big purple bow on the handlebar. His next wise move was to keep in touch with her. He was a poor child, and she was rich. The perfect scenario created itself without any efforts of Eliott’s side. A couple of kind words in the accompaniment of one of his charming smiles and the girl saw her knight in shining armour in his face. Eliott’s mistake was to let her feeling of affection towards him grow without any particular necessity. He made his way into her home, he earned the respect of her father, and he even got a job, but still, the guy wasn't ready to give her what she wanted. Eliott Demaurydidn't love Lucille Amateur.

"Philippe and I are very good friends, you know." Valentine Lallemant's piercing blue eyes were looking at the young guy, who was standing right in front of him.  Probably he was trying to see what was so special about him that his dear friend advised the boy's service instead of the specialized agency that at least had a reputation. It was a shame that they failed to help him before, though.

Eliott could see doubts and questions running through the businessman's head. That was obvious from the way he was frowning.

"I suppose that's the reason why I'm here right now," he said with careful politeness. Valentin Lallemantwasn't a joke to anyone. Especially to somebody, who meant as little as Eliott.

"Yeah, that and the fact that you somehow made him respect you and that, believe me, is a very hard thing to achieve," Valentine murmured thoughtfully, not leaving his eyes off Eliott.

Valentine Lallemant and Philippe Amateur were one of the most famous duets in the whole of France. The one was an owner of a hotel empire; another one was an owner of the chain of the auto salons all over Europe. Both built their empires from scratch and became the faces of any motivation-related story about how you can achieve everything if you only try.  What a bullshit! Only a moron would have believed that their businesses were clean and that they were pure and innocent as newborn babies. There was something dark happening behind the closed doors of their offices, but they haven't been caught yet, and perhaps that was the only thing that mattered. Moreover, that aspect of their lives wasn't something Eliott was interested in. The fact that they had a good business and personal relationship was enough for him to close his eyes on everything else, as long as it was playing into his hands.

"I also can't but approve your reasoning behind your leaving the Amateur's house. I know you had a good life there." MrLallemant straightened up in the chair and crossed his arms around the chest. Despite him being in a lower position, as Eliott was still standing, the young man could feel that the man was looking down on him. And he had every right on that, of course.

"I did what was right," Eliott gave a simple answer, but something in Valentine's smirk made him suspect that it wasn't something he was ready to buy so quickly. He was a smart man after all.

"Yeah, for you and your future," Valentine agreed, being perfectly aware that it wasn't the idea Eliott tried to sell to him. Though Eliott didn't argue, he let him continue. "Philippe's sure that you left because of your dignity and respect for him and his family, but we both know that the situation could have gotten only worse if only you decided to take advantage of pure Lucille. You were wise enough to leave and to earn even more of his respect even."

"Am I supposed to answer that?" Eliott asked, and that made Valentine scoff satisfied.

The situation with Lucille got out of the hand pretty quickly. That was an omission on Eliott's part. He used to consider her infatuation with him as something temporary and not so serious. He was sure it was just a phase. The guy expected it to be over at any moment and for her to find some new love interest, but that didn't happen. Her gaze was stopping at him for far too long, her embraces became too tight and intimate, and she stopped following what she was saying in front of him and the company of others, so she practically became a problem. It was never an option for him to reciprocate to her feelings as he had none of them, and pretending wasn't his style. But he wanted to keep his connection with Mr Amateur, so he spent hours to make up the perfect solution, and he did well. His final decision had a success, which led him straight to the office of MrLallemant.

"My son is a problem," suddenly Valentine changed the topic, and Eliott knew that since that moment he needed to absorb every word that would come out of the man's mouth. Lucas Lallemant was his real concern at this job, and he was a problematic kid.

Lucas Lallemant was a star of the all gutter press. A young boy of eighteen years old, who's brought nothing but shame on the name of his powerful father. This little spoiled and arrogant brat was attracting too much unwelcome attention to the family. Constant parties, uncontrollable use of alcohol, dirty fights and big scandals. That was everything that needed any journalist for a couple of juicy and successful stories. Eliott had no particular opinion on the boy as it didn’t matter to him, but he’s heard some stories about him from Lucile that made him despise the junior Lallemant. He had everything Eliott was ready to kill for, and he had no idea how to value that. And that was not surprising and not that big of a secret that Valentine didn’t even try to get along with his son. Probably, he wasn’t worth it. But the man’s reputation was a lot to lose it just because of one silly boy, and that’s how Eliott turned out to be standing in his office.

“I need a driver for him as he can’t drive, and he can’t be trusted to move about the city alone. And the driver needs to be young to become his friend,” Valentine continued, having closed a fat folder in front him and having put it aside. He leaned on his table, giving all his attention to the guy, who was listening to him attentively. “This boy can be a real snake. We changed four drivers in the last half of the year. However, I suppose it was a mistake from my side. I chose people of my age for them to understand me, while I needed someone who would understand him. Or at least would pretend that he understands. And it seems that you’re good at that.”

For everyone, Eliott was Lucille’s driver. For the girl, he was a driver and a friend. For her father, he was a spy. Not officially of course, but that was an unspoken agreement between them right from the start. He gave him a job, but he was paying the guy for the information. It turned out that if you have enough money, and you care about your child (or reputation), you can forget about all the moral code just to protect the things that matter to you. Eliott couldn’t say that he approved that kind of behaviour, but he could easily turn his blind eye on that for a good price. And the price was really good. In no time Mr Amateur knew all about his daughters’ friends, boyfriends, parties and even addictions. Whenever she went, the man knew about it straight away. Eliott was smart and careful, never letting her doubt him. He gained her full trust just to win her father’s trust, and he left just before it all could crash down on him. Now he still had Mr Amateur’s respect, Lucille’s admiration and a good perspective on the new job.

“I need you to be close enough for him to consider you as his friend. He’s difficult, but he’s lonely. He has no real friends, so you can use it,” Valentine said coldly as if he was talking about some stranger from the street and not about his flesh and blood. And Eliott would have been surprised by it if only he hadn't already known that all the fathers sucked. “I need you to be everywhere where he is. I need to know about his whereabouts all the time. You need to know who he’s meeting with, when, where and why. Any sign of the pettiest scandal and I need to know about it. We’ve made an arrangement with him, so he’ll be using your service constantly, but you need to find a way to go further than that. He had to trust you. You’re obviously a bright kid, but still… do you think you could do that?” The man was glaring at him, and Eliott did not doubt that it was the task right for him. But he had questions.

“You sound as if I need to be next to him 24/7. That’s not how I was working with Lucille,” he didn't but pointed out to the fact. MrLallemant nodded and wrote down something on the piece of paper. When he finished, he handed it to the younger guy.

“I know, and that’s why you will be living in our house.”

Eliott took a note from the man and saw not only an address but also a big figure written on it. That was twice bigger than he’s ever gotten working on Phillippe.

“It isn’t going to a problem, right?” Valentine gave the guy time to look at the paper. Oh, he certainly knew what he was doing. Working on the previous conditions, Eliott would have refused to live under the same roof as Lucille, but that was another family, and the price was very tempting, so it would be stupid to say “no”.

“Not a problem at all,” Eliott replied and put the note in his pocket. MrLallemantgrinned, satisfied, but in a second, that smile disappeared from his face as he clearly remembered about something.

“But there is one detail about my son…” he said, and Eliott could see how the man was trying to find the right words to express his thought. Funnily enough, Eliott’s already figured what it probably was about, but it would be wiser of him to keep it shut on the topic. “My son has one peculiarity…” he stopped once again and cleared his throat. Valentine was so obviously ashamed of what he was about to say. “Sometimes he thinks that he likes boys,” he almost hissed, and Eliott hardly held a smirk at the thought that the man couldn’t have made himself to say the word "gay".

“And you don’t want it to be a piece of common knowledge?” Eliott suggested something he’s already known.

“He’s a confused and spoiled boy, so it isn’t worth of hassle,” the man was avoiding Eliott’s eyes, and that was hilarious seeing such reaction from a well-respected businessman. “I don’t need these fool journalists to talk trash about my family again.”

Eliott knew that the man’s already faced the problem like that before. Over a year ago, somebody released a photo of the Lallemant junior kissing another boy right in front of some posh nightclub. And that wasn’t just a perk in the cheek, but a real kiss with tongues and stuff. Lucas was clearly off his face, so as his partner. Another wild night turned Valentine’s life into a nightmare, as the photo took a front page of the most serious and solid newspapers and magazines. And it was all over the Internet, of course. The next morning Lucas gave an interview, where he admitted that he was just too drunk and that was nothing but a silly attempt to laugh at journalists, who follow his every step. He said that he had a girlfriend that he loved very much just to erase any suspicion of his sexual orientation. But the damage was already done, and Eliott’s heard that Valentine lost a couple of conservative clients because of this stunt, so it was no wonder that he was trying to hide the reality so hard. And there was no doubt that the man didn't have to know about Eliott’s bisexuality. He needed this opportunity too much just to lose it because if someone’s ignorance.

Valentine finally managed to get a grip as he straightened up again, looking serious. “At first your main task is to follow him everywhere outside, help him avoid cameras and save him from the troubles on the public. In the school, house and places he’s going to there are always my people, so they will look after him there but…”

“I need to do my best to become close to him and have a chance to know about his every move and his every thought. I get it,” Eliott finished the man’s sentence, and he nodded pleased. “Still, I’m not a bodyguard,” Eliott reminded. He kept in mind that Valentine Lallemant lived in a dangerous world, and maybe Demaury was a good spy, but he never was a fighter.

“Nobody asks you to be him,” Valentine replied, and that was enough for Eliott. “So if you have no questions, you can move in tomorrow. The room will be ready for you. I’ll also bring a contract and discuss with you all the details. Your services will be needed until the end of the school year, after that, I’ll send Lucas to London. You’ll have a chance to walk away whatever you’ll want to. I prefer people working on me by choice and not by pressure. So do we have a deal?” The man stood up and extended his hand toward Eliott.

“Yes, we do,” Eliott answered with a polite smile, and they shook their hands.

If there was something Eliott’s learned during that meeting, that was that sometimes reputation was so much more thicker than blood.

“Are you sure that it’s a really good idea? I’ve heard a lot of stuff about that Valentine, and he’s certainly the man I would have avoided.”

Idriss was standing in the doorway of Eliott’s room. He’s just heard the news, and he wasn’t pleased with them at all. Eliott’s best friend didn’t like a lot of details of that deal. The first one was that he didn’t want him to move out, leaving him alone with their other neighbour, Mika. The second reason for his attitude was that he has absolutely no trust in the Lallemant family. And that was wise. Eliott didn’t trust these people either. But that wasn’t what he was paid for, right? He was joining the family’s house just because of his job. And that was Idriss’ last concern. The man never hid the fact that he considered Eliott’s idea of working instead of studying stupid. And when Eliott’s friend was nagging him about that, Demaury was ready to kill him in cold blood.

“I’m going to spend most of the time with his son and not him.”

Eliott looked around to check if he’s put in his bag everything that he needed. He didn’t have in plans to move out completely, he’s already paid rent for a year ahead, and he liked to have a place he always could return to. So he decided to take only the things that were really necessary for him in Lallemant’s house. A couple of boxers, trousers, T-shirts, shirts and all the little stuff. Eliott knew for sure that he would come back in the flat in a week just to see his mates, and then he would grab all the other stuff he wanted to.

“As if his son is anywhere better,” Idriss sighed and sat on the sofa. Eliott joined him. “He seems like the right trouble. Yeah, Lucille wasn’t the angel, but this one is another level. Have you heard that he trashed the car, told the press that his driver took drugs from Valentine and then did it himself? It's not normal behaviour!”

Eliott let out a laugh, having remembered another scandal out of the life of Lallemants. Yeah, that was a big one too. It was the first driver Valentine hired and, judging by the way the things ended, he didn’t get on with Lallemant junior at all. In a week he was sacked and accused of using drugs. Yeah, in one evening Lucas told about it every journalist he could only get hold of, proving it with photos of the car the man allegedly crashed. And maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t call his own father a dealer. But still, it wasn’t even the weirdest thing. To Eliott’s amusement, the boy was sober when he was doing it. How did he know that? He was there together with Lucille when all the mess’ started. Lucas didn’t just gather the journalists, but also all his rich friends for them to spread the rumours. Yeah, that was quite a show. But Eliott preferred to keep silent about his not so significant involvement in the act. All the more, Lucas apologised in a few days, having blamed it all on a stupid bet with his friend. And knowing the nature of the boy, everyone believed it. But not Eliott. He saw the look on the boy’s face that evening and there was something intriguing there. Maybe now he would have a chance to find some answers. And as they say, there is no smoke without fire.

“Valentine could have just hired the guy a babysitter. Why exactly does he need a driver?” Idriss questioned.

“He can’t drive, apparently,” Eliott shrugged. “But, yeah, I guess he’s just impressed with the things Mr Amateur told him about me. And I’m no way complaining. I can be even Valentines’ babysitter if he keeps giving me the money he promises to.”

Idriss gave him a disappointed look but didn’t say anything. His friend had both things Eliott was always deprived of. He had a loving family and money. No, he wasn’t as rich as Lallemants, but he always had enough to go by. So there was no way for him to understand Eliott and his motivation. AndDemaury didn’t ask him to actually.

Eliott’s phone vibrated, and he saw one new message.

[Lucille]:

is it truth? you replaced me with lucas lallemant? wtf???

“You didn’t tell her?” Idriss asked surprised, having looked at the screen over Eliott’s shoulder.

“We decided that it’d be better like that,” he replied and put away his phone. Well, it wasn’t actually his decision not even say goodbye but her father’s. Despite Lucille’s stupid crush oh him that messed things up, he liked that girl. They knew each other long enough for Eliott to bond with her in some way. He didn’t feel anything deep and physical towards Lucille, but he was sincerely upset when he figured what her feelings were. After all, the guy didn’t have that many friends to lose another one.

“You know, you just could fuck her from times to times and be happy,” Idriss said, and Eliott knew that he meant it as a joke.

“Or he could fuck Lucas Lallemant and be even happier,” Mika came waltzing in the room.

“Or be killed!” Idriss answered back, and Mika waved his hand on him, settling in the chair opposite them.

“This guy is super cute and rich, so I would jump this ship too, for sure!” He winked at Eliott.

“Was it even officially confirmed that he’s gay? I saw his photos with some girl the other day,” Idriss commented.

“It’s just him trying to conceal the obvious. Everyone knows with whom he’s spending his nights with, photos or no photos,” Mika stated. “But still I want to know all the gossips. I bet their family has a lot of dark and juicy secrets,” the guy smiled slyly, looking at Eliott.

“My job is to keep him from such people as you, so forget about it,” Eliott smirked, and Mika scoffed displeased.

“You are still so boring!” He complained.

“But it’s just until the end of the year, right?” Idriss asked. It was obvious that the idea still worried him.

“If everything goes right then yeah. After that, Valentine’s sending him to London,” Eliott put a cigarette between his lips and lit it. Idriss looked at him disappointed. He hated when the friend was smoking right in the flat. But they were sitting in his room, so he had no right to say something against it. Smoking was a bad habit, Eliott didn’t deny the fact, but he was a child when he tried it the first time and now it’s become a part of him. Cigarettes let him relax a little, and that was something he needed in his life a lot.

“You knew that he had to finish school last year, but suddenly disappeared, so he’s attending it now?” Mika was looking at his phone. He’s already googled the boy’s name to gain more information. Eliott though to do the same, but he never got around it. “Interesting, why did he have to miss the whole year?”

“I won’t be surprised if Valentine sent him to some religious camp for them to kill gay inside him,” Eliott shared, having remembered the shame in the man’s eyes when he was talking about his son’s preferences.

“It must be tough to have a father like that,” Mika said compassionately.

“And what’s the deal with his mum? Don’t think I’ve seen her face in the news recently,” Idriss noted, and Mika looked at his phone again, tapping something. In a few minutes, he gave the answer.

“Well, there was no official statement, but there are gossips that she went mad, and she’s at the clinic now. But Valentine isn’t commenting on the situation and neither so his son.”

“If it’s true, I feel bad for the boy,” Idriss said, and Milan nodded. Eliott’s took another drag.

“He’s just another rich snob, who cares about nothing but himself. I’ve met him a couple of times before, so believe me, he’s not worth feeling sorry for him,” he declared and stood up.

“You’re full of prejudices, you need to meet the boy first just to make such strong assumptions!” Mika confronted him, but Eliott just rolled his eyes at the neighbour and came to his table. There were two things he hadn’t packed yet. Two photos. One of his mother and another of his grandparents. He hated both of them, but these probably were the only things in his life he couldn’t leave behind.

Living with Idriss and Mika for three years Eliott got used to meeting Mika’s hook-ups in the morning in the kitchen not to ever see their faces ever again. Or in the late evenings when he didn’t even know that they had visitors. And Mika loved organizing surprise parties. Or that could be Idriss’ sister Imane with her boyfriends and Idriss and Eliott’s friend Sofiane. Their flat’s became their second home. They probably were spending more time here than in their own apartment. So at any time, someone could have come, and they wouldn't have even been surprised.

“Not me,” Idriss answered.

“Me neither, but I’ll go and look.” Milan stood and went to the door.

“I hope it’s not another boyfriend he’s forgotten about,” Idriss joked, and Eliott laughed back.

In a few seconds, Mika came back with a sly smile, looking at Eliott.

“Honey, you have a guest,” he said cunningly. By the look on his face Eliott’sknown that it was something the guy was really excited about. And he seriously couldn’t even suggest who it could have been. His first thought was Lucille. Sometimes she knew no boundaries, and when he ignored her like he did today, she could just turn up at their doorways. But it wouldn’t have explained Mika’s enthusiasm. He hated the girl.

“Do you know who is there?” Idriss asked with interest.

“Do I look like I know?” Eliott replied a little bit irritated.

He went to the door, feeling Mika’s eyes on his back. He’s heard how the guy hissed something to Idriss, but he didn’t hear what exactly he said. Or he preferred to ignore that. Most of the things Mika was saying usually didn't worth the time of listening to him.

“Finally!”

Eliott’s heard a mumble of the person, standing at the door. The second he saw who exactly it was, he froze.

“So I’ve heard I’m your new boss,” said the boy in the black shirt with long sleeves and black jeans. He was leaning against the doorframe, and there was a bottle of champagne in his right hand. And though there were sunglasses on his eyes, there was no problem for Eliott to identify the guest.

Lucas Lallemant was standing right in front of him.

#skam france #my fics #elu fics #hell of a ride #agh I'm super excited about starting this story now