#later today maybe ill be able to pump one out i just need to line a few thinhs and add text | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seriouslysnape · 3 years

Note

Hi!❣️ Your writing is pretty cool, and I love the way you portray Sev, especially!

If it isn't a bother, of course... Could I make a request? Where Snape and the Reader are expecting, and go through all the nine months (like, through things like cravings, mood swings Snaddy has to endure, buying the child's stuff and decorating the room, all of that), till delivery? Only if you'd like the 'prompt', of course.

Wish you a nice day☺️

I LOVE THISSSSSS. YES DAD SEV >>>

Paternal Figure

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, Emetephobia, Sexual implications.

Word Count: 5,161

“We’re going to be one happy family.”

“How much longer?” Severus questioned, eyeing the pregnancy test that was lying face down on the bathroom counter.

You looked at your wrist watch that was secured on your trembling hand. You saw that it had been more than enough time for the pregnancy test to do its job. A quivering sigh flowed from your chest as you reached for the test with trembling fingers.

“It should be ready.” You replied.

Severus sat up straighter from where he sat on the bathroom floor, his blood pumping with eagerness and nervousness. You held the test to your chest for a second with your eyes closed and head lulled towards the ceiling.

You and Severus wanted a baby badly. After being married for a few years, the baby fever was becoming harder to resist between the two of you combined. It started out as a casual thing. Severus first briefly mentioned how there was still an empty room in the house that needed to be occupied. You assumed that he meant as an office space or maybe even a large walk in closet.

But when Severus suggested that the two of you turn that space into a nursery, you knew what he was implying. You had always wanted to have kids with Sev. In the beginning, Severus wasn’t totally sure how he felt about having a baby. He wasn’t great with younger people, and he was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good dad.

However, the longer the two of you were together and the more life you shared together, the more he wanted nothing more than to put a baby in you. He wanted to raise a child and teach it all the wonders of the wizarding world. He wanted your baby to be perfect.

The two of you sat and chatted for a long time about it, not wanting to rush into things. It was a huge deal after all; bringing a human into the world was a life changing ordeal. You talked it over, and you both happily agreed that you would start trying for a baby.

You admittedly became a little obsessed with getting pregnant in the first few months. You tracked your menstrual and ovulation cycles much more than usual, eventually memorizing everything down to the minute. You tried any wizard (and even a few Muggle) tricks in the book to increase your chances of conceiving, including basically pouncing on Severus any chance he was around.

If you had a free minute to spare, you were shoving him into bed and having sex with him. At first, Severus found it rather endearing that you were so excited to have a kid, but he became concerned as time went on. Getting pregnant isn’t always a quick process. Some women can so much as look at their husband and get results while some spend a better half of their life trying to even get a positive pregnancy test.

You were proving to be one of the harder cases.

With each negative pregnancy test, the more frantic you became. You felt like your fertility window was closing in on you rapidly, and if you didn’t get pregnant soon, it’d be too late. The first few negatives didn’t phase you much, but by the fifth or sixth, you were feeling discouraged. Severus was much more patient than you during all of this, holding you flush to him when you burst into tears of frustration.

It had become a monotonous and vicious cycle. You’d try to get pregnant, buy a pregnancy test, get a negative result, and fall into a weeping heap onto the bathroom floor. After one particularly hard let down, Severus stepped in. He was rocking your sobbing frame in his arms, hushing you and comforting you as best he could.

He suggested that the two of you take a break for a while, and that maybe you were trying too hard. The stress couldn’t have been good for you as a whole, and maybe taking a more casual approach would be best.

“Here’s what I’m thinking, my love. You and I take this step by step. We continue life as normal,” He said softly; “If you get pregnant then that’s good, and if you don’t, then we remain calm and try again. If much longer goes by, then we can go see your doctor.”

You nodded into his chest with heartbreaking sobs, agreeing that this had taken a huge toll on your body. You apologized for your crazy behavior, but Severus only gave a light laugh and kissed your head.

“No, no, my dear. Don’t be sorry. I want this just as much as you do.” He consoled, sweeping you off of the floor.

You were a bit apprehensive about Severus’ approach to this, but you were willing to try anything. Fast forward a few weeks later, and this was the first test you had taken since taking Severus’ advice.

“Sev...” You croaked out; “What if it’s negative?”

You were sitting against the door in your tiny bathroom, Severus sitting on the wall across from you. Your knees were almost touching one another’s as he replied.

“Then we accept it, take a few days, and try again. It’ll be alright, [Y/N].” He reassured, resting a hand on your knee in a loving way.

You exhaled deeply, already half expecting to be disappointed. You nodded, and quickly flipped the test so you could read it. Your heart hit your feet and bounced back into your ribcage at the sight. You were stoically silent as you stared in silence at the test.

Severus was watching with a clenched jaw, prepared to comfort you in case it wasn’t what you wanted to see. You kept looking at it for a few more seconds to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The double pink lines were as clear as day.

You were pregnant.

Tears filled your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. You turned the test so he could see it.

“It’s positive,” You said, smiling through the tears streaming your face; “We’re going to have a baby.”

Severus’ jaw fell open and stars of delight shot over his eyes. He himself gazed down at the test as if it would explode right in his hands.

“You’re pregnant...” He breathed out.

You nodded, wiping away at the tears with a genuine laugh. A blinding smile appeared on Severus’ face as he moved to pull you into a tight embrace. A few tears leaked from his eyes as well, the two of you mumbling “I love yous” to each other as you cried out the adrenaline and undeniably glee that you were feeling. It had almost been a year since you started trying, and now it seemed that it had paid off.

You were going to be parents.

The first trimester of your pregnancy was less than pleasant. While you were eternally grateful to be carrying your first child, you weren’t too thrilled about the symptoms that came with it. You were violently sick for the first few weeks, basically bringing back up anything you tried to hold down. Even something as mild as pumpkin juice was enough to make you sick just from the smell.

As disgusting as it was, Severus was by your side any time you fell ill.

“It’s okay, darling. Let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing circles onto your back as you let out another hurl.

You seemingly puked up everything you had eaten in the last ten years into the toilet bowl, a new groan escaping your chest every time you had a chance to take a breath. Severus kept your hair out of your face as best as he could, trying not to visibly grimace every time you threw up.

You closed the lid of the toilet for a minute, draping your arm over the top of it and resting your forehead on the heated skin of your forearm.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” You grumbled miserably.

He gave a chuckle, and even though you couldn’t see it, he raised his left hand to reveal his silver wedding ring.

“In sickness and in health.” He said, wrapping his long legs around your from behind, resting his head on your back.

“I think this is an exception to that vow.” You joked, hoping that the relief you were feeling was to signal the end of today’s sickness.

Severus hummed.

“I think that this is exactly what it was referring to,” He corrected, his heart fluttering when you lifted your head with a weak smile; “Just as beautiful as ever.”

You snorted at that, but you were heartwarmed.

“How did I ever deserve you?” You asked, falling into his open arms.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

When you were actually able to have an appetite, you wanted any and every food imaginable. The pregnancy cravings were insanely hard to ignore, and it was even harder to ignore the weird things you craved.

“What...is that?” Severus questioned cautiously as he entered the kitchen, catching you in the middle of biting something he couldn’t even discern.

You looked at him with wide eyes and stopped mid-chomp. You didn’t respond, not even sure how to explain this to him. His gaze averted to the open pantry, and saw that mostly everything had been raided and placed on the kitchen counter. He had noticed that satisfying your cravings had proven to be the most difficult thus far. He inspected the food item in your hand and his stomach lurched when he realized what it was.

“Is that a treacle tart with...” He trailed off, barely able to finish the thought.

You finished his sentence, rather ashamed.

“...pickles.” You confessed.

Severus was sure that his face had turned a nasty shade of green at the thought of your concoction. He shuddered and made you put it down. You had always been creative and experimental in the kitchen, but this was too far.

“Okay, I’ve been supportive of every strange food combination you’ve come up with, but I draw the line at treacle pickle tarts.” He said with a voice full of amusement.

You whined.

“I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it. Everything we have sounds good.”

He scratched the back of his head. He never liked to tell you how to live your life, but there was no way that this was good for you or the baby.

“I don’t think Little One is going to appreciate pickles and desserts.” He noted, placing a hand on your very small baby bump.

“Little One” was the nickname that he had coined for your developing child. You and Severus had decided early on that you wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise up until delivery. Severus hated to keep referring to the baby as...well, “the baby”. So he had instinctively come up with all kinds of nicknames along the way.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that Little One is the only reason I want pickles.” You snapped back.

“It’s not the pickles. It’s the pickles with the tart that I can’t stomach.” Severus explained.

You sneered at him, but Severus continued before you could snark back at him.

“I’ll tell you what, princess. How about we whip up a bunch of your favorite foods, and we’ll have a nice dinner together?” He offered.

Your belly grumbled at the sound of that. You nodded in agreement, and you and Severus prepared a heavenly meal.

On top of the all day morning sickness and the nauseating cravings, your hormones were going absolutely nuts. You had never experienced such frequent mood changes like this, and poor Severus was the victim of all your emotional outbursts. It seemed as if you were blowing up at the smallest of details.

“Damn it, Sev. How many times have I told you not to leave your socks on the floor?” You hissed, angrily picking up his dirty socks.

Severus poked his head out of the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom, a guilty look on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I left them there.” He said truthfully.

“Just like how you didn’t realize that you left the sink faucet dripping or how you forgot to put the pillows back on the bed when you got up at 10 in the morning?” You mocked, throwing his socks into his laundry basket.

He caught how aggravated you were, and exited the bathroom to talk things over. Severus didn’t want you to be upset with him, but he knew you were just going through a lot of changes and couldn’t really control your emotions well.

“I assure you that I didn’t do those things on purpose,” He said, not even an ounce of irritation in his voice; “I’ll pick up after myself.”

His light and friendly tone made you realize that you had overreacted once again. Severus had not once lost his temper with you, no matter how bad you had nagged him. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at your feet that were close to being covered by your steadily growing bump.

You felt bad for being on his ass about something 24/7. He was trying his best to help you and make your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. You yelling at him all the time wasn’t fair to him.

“I’m sorry, Sev. It’s not you.” You uttered for the hundredth time in the last three months.

He only smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Not to worry, my dear,” He mewled; “I can handle being screamed at for as long as it takes.”

The second trimester was actually easier than the first as far as symptoms goes. Your morning sickness had subsided, you had adapted to your ever changing hormones, and you weren’t tempted to eat everything in sight. While the symptoms were still there, they didn’t completely dictate your life.

You and Severus were well into the finer intricacies of planning for the arrival of your baby boy or girl. You were in the process of converting your extra bedroom into a nursery, which was a challenge for Severus. He was a shitty interior decorator, which wouldn’t be an issue if he hadn’t insisted that he decorate the baby’s room.

Severus wanted to be as involved as possible, never wanting you to think that he wasn’t there for you. You were ecstatic with the idea of him taking charge of the nursery, but you soon realized that wasn’t a good idea.

“We are not painting the baby’s room BLACK, Severus.” You protested, eyeing the cans of black paint on the floor.

Severus had gone out and bought all kinds of paint supplies. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, stencils, tape, etc. He was adamant about doing it all by hand (as opposed to using magic; a suggestion that he was horribly offended at), and had taken it upon himself to buy everything.

You had forgotten that there wasn’t much color interest in the world of Severus Snape.

“And why not? There’s black in other parts of the house.” He argued.

You put your hands on your hips, your back beginning to arch from the weight of your five month swelling belly.

“Yes, but this is a baby’s room. I don’t think he or she is going to like it,” You retorted back; “It’ll be too dark and...scary. I want Little One to be comfortable in here.”

Severus looked around. Perhaps, black was too extreme for such a small human. He looked a tad defeated and disappointed in himself. He was trying his hardest. You caught his dejected look.

“Oh, honey. I know you want it to be perfect,” You said, taking his face into your hands; “We can do it together. Maybe we can sneak a bit of black in here somewhere.”

He nodded.

“So, what color should we paint the room?” He asked.

You looked around this time, biting your lower lip in thought. You wanted to have gender neutral colors, and something that would be cozy for the baby.

“How about we paint the walls white? That way we can add pops of color wherever we see fit.” You said after a moment of thought.

Severus agreed, but was holding to your promise to have at least some black in the room. The nursery was an ongoing project, lasting about a week and a half. The crib was the last item placed in the room, and it was complete. You and Severus stood in the middle, basking in the finished nursery.

“It looks great, S.” You said, looking at the black painted changing table and the mobile above the crib.

“It does. I’m glad you helped me.” He admitted, eyeing the moving pictures on the walls.

You wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, his lips falling to your head in response.

“We’re going to be one happy family.” You announced.

Severus laughed into your hair, his heart beating with hope.

“We already are.”

You had officially made it past the halfway mark, and your due date was quickly approaching. There was still so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Your bump was already huge, and you still had another trimester to go. You were getting to the point where swollen feet and an aching lower back was crippling your ability to go out and do much.

You were laid out on the sofa with Severus rubbing your tired feet. You were fighting the aching pain in your back and legs from the unevenly distributed weight from your midsection.

“I really need to go out today.” You winced as another round of soreness flooded your body.

Severus’ careful hands continued to massage the aching muscles of your feet.

“Why, love? You can surely go on a day where you’re feeling in higher spirits.” He said.

While he wasn’t totally wrong, you were at the point where every day was the same as the last. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have a “higher spirits” day for a while.

“I suppose I could. But I need to get baby clothes, pacifiers, bottles.” You grunted, exhaling heavily.

You really needed to do this, but you just weren’t feeling up to it. Then you had an idea. Since Severus didn’t get to put all his effort into the nursery, you thought you could give him a second chance.

“Severus, could you possibly go out and buy baby stuff today?” You suddenly asked.

You were honestly expecting him to say no, considering he knew nothing about baby fashion. Instead, his face brightened and he leapt up from the couch.

“Of course! Why didn’t you just ask?” He queried, giddy with joy.

You laughed at his anticipation, giving him a few instructions.

“Alright, Sev. Don’t buy anything ridiculous or anything that’s made of uncomfortable material,” You said; “And do NOT get anything Slytherin related. As much as you would like it, we have no clue what Little One is going to be sorted into when he or she is old enough.”

Severus groaned.

“Not even a-”

“No Slytherin stuff.”

“Well, what about a-”

“No, Severus.”

He groaned again, but accepted your request. As badly as he wanted his daughter or son to be a Slytherin, there was always the chance that they wouldn’t be. He’d love them regardless of what House they were in, but it would tickle him to death if they were a Slytherin.

So Severus went out into Diagon Alley with extra pep in his step, jittery as he went from store to store getting stuff for his little girl or boy. Severus had never paid much attention to baby clothes, and now that he was looking, his heart was swelling with excitement.

There were so many cute sweaters, onesies, socks, and pajama sets that absolutely made Severus burst with joy. He would pick out about a dozen outfits to start out with, knowing that you’d have to go buy more once the baby was older. But each time he thought he had enough, he’d spot two or three more outfits that he just had to buy.

He could not WAIT to see his baby in all of this stuff. It had obviously been a while since he was a child, and he was amazed at all of the new things that had been invented to make parenting easier and childhood more fun.

He bought a pacifier for every day of the week, and enough toys that would last your kid through kindergarten. He bought blankets and stuffed animals and anything else that a baby MIGHT want. Your baby was going to be spoiled to the max.

Truth be told, Severus went a little overboard with his purchases. He came back with no less than ten bags full of baby materials. You not-so-gracefully lifted yourself from the couch when he entered, several bags hooked onto each of his arms. He had a proud smile plastered on his face.

“Oh Merlin, Severus! What all did you buy??” You questioned, eyes bugging out at all the goodies in front of you.

“Clothes, pacifiers, bottles. Everything you asked for.” Severus stated innocently, you rifled through the bags at all the baby wonders.

“And toys, blankets, and stuffed animals.” You finished his list.

You looked at Severus with an entertained smile, his cheeks glowing red.

“I just want Little One to be happy.” He shrugged meekly.

You let out a soft “awh” and captured his soft lips in a sweet kiss. He already loved this baby so much that it melted your heart.

“With you as their dad, they absolutely will be.”

You had never been happier to enter your third and final trimester. You were in the home stretch, and you were so excited to meet your baby. You were about to pop like a balloon and, quite frankly, you had enough of it. Don’t make any mistake about it, you had cherished every moment of being pregnant, but you were ready to get some somewhat decent sleep without being kicked in the ribs every 5 minutes.

Although, with a newborn around, you weren’t sure how much sleep you would get.

Over the course of your pregnancy, Severus had become more and more protective the more your baby grew. Now that your due date was only a few days out, he jumped at any sudden movement or noise. He had eyes and ears like a hawk. He came barreling into the living room, completely naked and dripping with water from where he had just stepped into the shower.

“Darling, what was that? Are you alright?” He asked frantically as if he had just heard an airstrike.

You looked up from your book, readjusting the pillow that was underneath your massive belly to support the weight.

“Severus. I sneezed.” You declared.

Relief washed over him, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Oh. Do you need anything?” He asked you for the millionth time that evening.

You laughed shortly, nodding your head.

“Yes. I’m fine,” You said; “Please try to enjoy your shower.”

Severus had been on your tail nonstop for the last three weeks. Even though most pregnancies go the full 40 weeks, your doctor said that labor could be expected once you hit 36. Sev didn’t want you out of his sights in case you went into labor early. He didn’t want to miss anything.

You had begged him to break away just for a minute, for his sake and yours. He padded back to the shower, ignoring the way his heart was thumping in his chest. You went back to your book, grinning to yourself at your anxious husband.

Once Severus was showered and somewhat calmer, you had grown tired and were ready to get in bed. Growing and carrying a baby had really tanked your energy levels, but Severus didn’t mind going to bed early. As long as he knew you and the baby were safe, he was content.

He laughed out loud when you slid into bed wearing only a pair of panties and a t-shirt that you had used a spell to stretch out. It was the only sleepwear that fit you due to your risen belly.

Getting comfortable was next to impossible, but you had gotten used to it over the last few months. You didn’t mind, because you knew it’d be back to normal soon. Severus was eyeing your tummy, looking to you with expectation once you were settled.

“Go ahead, Sev.” You giggled, knowing what he wanted.

Every single night since you had been pregnant, Severus would rub your belly and tell the human growing inside of you goodnight. Severus shimmied down to where his face was in front of your bump. He lifted the shirt up to reveal your bare belly. He left a kiss on the stretched skin, carefully placing both of his hands on you.

“Hello in there,” Severus said, smiling proudly when he felt the baby move at the sound of his voice; “Are you still kicking your mother?”

You even nodded at that, thinking about all the times that the baby had soccer kicked your ribcage or hit your bladder just right. You placed one hand over one of Severus’, and put your other in his hair as he spoke.

“I’m so ready to meet you. I love you so much already. Other than Mum, I never thought I could ever love someone this much,” Severus spoke gently; “You two are my whole world.”

You rubbed his hair as you listened. Severus had been nothing short of amazing during this process. He was more than you could ever ask for. This baby was going to be loved endlessly.

“I don’t know how great of a father I’ll be. I didn’t exactly have ideal parents. I admit that I don’t have a model to go off of. But I will love you no matter what,” He spoke; “I hope you sleep well, Little One. I can’t wait to see you.”

He pressed another kiss to the side of your belly, before returning to your side. You were misty eyed at his words, turning so you were facing him.

“Oh, Severus. You’re going to be a wonderful dad. I’ve seen the way you love this child,” You assured; “Little One is going to love you. And there’s no one else I’d rather bring a baby into this world with.”

Severus still had a modest amount of nerves, but it was drowned out with joy. He was so ready for this baby.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Sev.” You whispered back.

You leaned to kiss him, but just as your lips touched, you felt a contraction and a massive gush of fluid flushed out between your legs, soaking both of your lower halves. A startled gasp fell from your mouth, and Severus eyes grew about three times their normal size. You both knew what that meant.

Little One was about to make his/her entrance into the world.

Getting to the hospital from the time that labor began was a blind rush. Severus was positively panicked, which didn’t help your attempts to remain relaxed. He had spent 9 months preparing for this moment, and he was still caught off guard.

The hospital was busy, but you had a team of nurses and doctors ready to go. You were wheeled into a delivery room, your doctor checking to see how dilated you were. He let you know that you had one of the fastest dilations he had ever seen, because you were already at 10 centimeters. There was no time for an epidural or a spell.

It was time to push.

The nurses got your legs into delivery position, Severus taking your hand as the doctor and nurses guided you through it. You gave a hard push, screaming bloody murder and squeezing the circulation out of Severus’ hand.

“You’re doing great, my love. Keep pushing.” He praised you.

Your head fell back onto the pillow with gruff, heavy breaths. You were filled with a pain you couldn’t describe. You needed this baby out. The doctor gave you a second to rest, before instructing you to push again. You took a deep breath, every muscle in your body tensing up as you pushed. Severus scrunched his nose at how badly you were hurting his hand, but he didn’t dare say anything.

The baby’s head and shoulders were out, ear splitting cries echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Severus peeked between your legs, and you saw the way his face filled with pure love as he saw your baby for the first time.

“Oh, [Y/N]. Little One is gorgeous...” He breathed, wanting you to push again so you could be able to see; “Push again, darling. You’re almost there.”

The nurses and Severus were encouraging you as you pushed hard a few more times, your baby finally entering into the world. Severus was a little too squeamish to cut the cord, but he watched every single movement as the doctors and nurses cut the umbilical cord and got them cleaned up. You were breathing heavily, your entire body shaking from the strenuous action. You whimpered out to Severus, who had a better viewpoint than you did.

“Is the baby okay? Please tell me the baby’s okay...” You whined out, desperate to see him/her.

Severus was close to crying, but it was the happiest he had been in his entire life.

“The baby is perfect. You did so well, my love.” He said, kissing your sweaty forehead.

The chaos in the room died down, and one of the nurses had swaddled the crying baby. She gave a huge, kind smile and set the baby in your arms.

“Say hello to your baby girl.” She cooed.

Tears fell from your eyes as she was placed into your arms. Her cries dwindled out at the feeling and sound of your and Severus’ voices. She was the most stunning baby you had ever seen. Severus felt something awaken in him. A side of him that had been itching to come out.

“A girl...oh, a girl.” You cried happily.

Severus sniffed, holding back tears.

“She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.” Sev croaked.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, her small baby whimpers making his heart explode. The two of you sat in silence, raking over your baby’s perfection. After a minute, you looked up at Severus with a smile.

“I just thought of something we have to do.” You said.

Panic flashed over his face again. You had done everything he thought. What could there possible be to do?

“What is that, darling?” He acquired.

You giggled, kissing Severus’ cheek.

“We’ve got to pick a name for her.”

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus #severus snape x y/n #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #severus snape imagine #severus snape blurb #seriouslysnape

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averyhappychainsawhalloween · 4 years

Text

Reverence | Part 3

Thomas Hewitt X You

“Evening Luda Mae, I’m sorry to be so tardy but I fell asleep outside. It’s just so peaceful here.” Your smile is set firmly in place, your voice a practiced tone of girlish ease. You tried to hold onto the way the house made you feel when you woke up but it was becoming harder and harder to grip.

You had spent the rest of the afternoon pulling yourself together. You found a water pumped and washed your face to banish any puffy eyes that might hint that you had been crying. You washed the dust and blood from the cars off your hands and laid down in the grass staring up at the clouds just in case someone happened to see you and call bullshit on your story. You didn’t sleep but you did do a lot of thinking.

Right now you were in a good position. Hoyt, who had a gun and was eager to use it, thought you were too dumb to know what was happening. You had Luda Mae’s protection and Tommy’s favor. You weren’t sure where Uncle Monty stood and while you didn’t want to speak ill of the elderly you didn’t see him as much of a threat.

Hoyt had driven the strangers car to the field with the rest, taking the keys with him. None of the cars had keys in them but even if they did only a couple of them could even dream of running.

It was a near mile from the house to the road, maybe more. You could sneak out but then there just miles of highway in either direction and unless you could hitch a ride they’d be able to find you.

There was no fighting out of this. Hoyt had shot that couple without a second thought and Thomas...

Thomas was a huge man that you had severely underestimated. He’d plucked bodies off the ground like they were nothing, hooking them like they were sides of beef and not people with families with dreams and mothers and...

No there would be no brute force. You’d have to use your mind and you’d have to wait for an opening. So you carried yourself up the porch around sundown with an apologetic blush on your face as you filled into the kitchen.

“Oh honey it’s okay,” Luda Mae said with a wave of her hand.

“In the city I don’t even have a yard, so this is a dream,” you said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. It was a line you had thought of outside and it worked like a charm.

“The country has a lot of things the city don’t. Most people don’t know what they’re missing,” Luda Mae said with a small smile.

You returned the smile, making sure it reached your eyes. Stroke the ego, but not too much. Flatter but not enough to be suspicious. You shifted in your chair, biting down on your bottom lip.

“When will Thomas be done with his work for the day?” you asked. Luda Mae whipped around to look at you, almost surprised by the question. And then her face melted into a knowing smile.

“He was very busy today, it’ll probably be late,” Luda Mae said. You felt bile rise in your throat. Was Tommy downstairs butchering that couple downstairs? You thought of the odd sausage at breakfast and almost gagged. Luda Mae noticed your negative reaction but thankfully misconstrued it. “It’s okay honey, he’s not down there all the time you’ll have your time together.”

“He’ll need dinner. Could I bring it down to him?” you asked, trying to sound eager. The older woman paused, wiping her hands on a dish towel. You pushed further hoping to persuade her. “I won’t get in the way and I won’t distract from his work.”

You searched her face for your answer. If you had Thomas on your side then maybe there was a chance to leave. He was younger, bigger, and stronger than the rest of the people in the house. If he wanted to leave there would be no stopping him. If you had any chance of leaving in one piece it’d have to be with him.

“Okay, but don’t dawdle down there,” Luda Mae finally said. Her lips were in a hard line as if she didn’t entirely believe the choice she made. You jumped up from your chair pulling the woman into an embrace.

“Thank you, Luda Mae!”

You stood at the top of the chairs gripping a cracked dish loaded with potatoes and meat. While Luda Mae had agreed to let you down she still hovered by the doorway as if she might change her mind at any moment. You started down the stairs in the dim basement, hit with the strong damp smell all over again. There were still marks in your ankle from the metal cuff and while the others thought you simple you were not quick to forget.

“Thomas?” you asked as you got down to the landing. The basement was large but cluttered. There were all sorts of things but now you could see their use. Large freezers for meat, metal hooks for hanging their prey, various cutters and saws for breaking through bone.

You had been so close to that destiny and because of Thomas you were still alive. If he could break the rules once he could do it again.

You saw him further down the room under a bare bulb wrapping meat in large swatches of brown paper. With it all cut up and divided it looked like any kind of meat. If you hadn’t seen the couple that afternoon you wouldn’t have had a single idea what it was.

“Thomas?” you called again. His head jerked up and he quickly tossed his work into a freezer and slammed the lid closed. You looked up to the top of the stairs and saw Luda Mae had returned to the kitchen. The two of you were truly alone.

You moved from the end of the stairs deeper in the basement towards the giant of a man.

“I brought you dinner,” you said, your voice soft. He didn’t move to meet you so you walked the entire way over to him. He was standing beside the table you were chained too and the thought of how close you were to being tied up again resonated through your head. You tried to dismiss the thought, bringing your gaze back up to Thomas’ face. He had not seemed frightening in the basement yesterday but now that you’d seen him pierce a man with a meat hook your instincts were telling you to run. You silenced them. He was not running after you.

You pushed the plate out for him to take but Thomas made no move to take it.

“Are you not hungry?” you asked, your head tilting to the side as if you might be able to see under his mask from a different angle. He didn’t answer. You weren’t certain what to do next but Thomas soon decided for you. He gently took the plate from your hand and placed it on the table beside him. He made no move to eat it, instead he stepped forward closing the gap between you.

You held your breath, afraid that even the slightest exhale would frighten him away. Slowly, he raised his hand and carefully placed it on your upper lip tracing the scar there. You relaxed under his touch.

He moves his fingers over your mouth, feeling the flesh beneath his fingertips. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip and the blush it brought to your cheeks was all real. You took his hand in your own, and pressed a kiss to his fingers.

He made a noise, not quite a word but a quiet strangled emotion.

“I like it when you touch me,” you said barely above a whisper. It wasn’t completely a lie, you didn’t mind his fingers on your lips, but it may have been a small exaggeration.

Thomas gave another small noise and his hand lifted from your lips, hovering over your shoulders as if he wanted to pull you in close but wasn’t quite sure about it. You took his hands pressing them against your waist. His palms were warm and huge and there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that if you got on Tommy’s bad side he could break you clean in half.

His fingers dug into your sides and he pulled you closer to him as if by pure instinct alone.

“Tommy.” The voice made you both jump. Thomas’ hands stayed clutched around you as you turned your head around to see Hoyt on the staircase. He leaned against a wooden pole glaring at the two of you. “Eat your dinner. You back upstairs. Mama needs your help with the dishes.”

You swallowed back your frustrations with Hoyt and turned back to Tommy.

“I’ll see you later,” you said. Reluctantly he pried his hands off of you and went to sit on a metal stool to huddle over his dinner. You walked to the staircase and started up the steps when Hoyt grabbed your arm.

“If you’re lookin’ for a man you won’t find one down here,” he said, his voice low and his eyes roaming your body. You pushed back your feelings of disgust and let your face pinch in confusion.

“I’m sorry, sir, but what do you mean?” you asked, your voice almost childish.

“I mean-” Hoyt cut off when metal scratched the stone floor. You both turned at the noise and saw Tommy sanding up, his hand clutching a large knife from the table and glaring at where Hoyt’s fingers dug into your elbow. Hoyt’s jaw tensed for a moment and then he freed you, his hand falling to his side. He muffled a curse under his breath before waving you off. “Off with you.”

You bounced up the stairs and couldn’t keep the smile from your lips.

Your plan was already in motion. It would only be a matter of time now.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #leatherface #slashers x reader

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

CSI Rogers and Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Episode 16: Is This Thing Rolling...

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Part 1

Summary: Having figured out previously where Rumlow has taken Katie, it’s now a race against time for The 4 Avengers to reach her before it’s too late. Armed with…yeah…ok, actually, we’ll let you read that bit because frankly this entire chapter is ridiculously fun!!!

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: LONG update here guys so we split it into 2 for you to read as you wish. I know we said Episode 15 was the penultimate chapter but we had too much to cram in so…THIS is the Penultimate chapter! Episode 17 will be the last, followed by an Epilogue.

Anyway, enjoy!!!

Chapter Song: Everything by Michael Buble

CSI R&B Masterlist // Main Masterlist

You’re a falling star, you’re the getaway car, you’re the line in the sand when I go too far. You’re the swimming pool on an August day and you’re the perfect thing to see.

Almost two and a half months after the unit cracked the case of the Serious Cereal Serial killer, as Thor had coined it one morning while watching Bucky scarf down a bowl of oatmeal at such a rate that he almost choked on it, everything seemed to be fitting into place.

Rumlow and Wanda were rotting in jail. The former had been taken to a prison of maximum security in another county where he had been isolated while he waited for his trial to take place, whereas Wanda had been taken to the female wing, called Nidavellir, at the Nine Realms prison.

Katie had been back at the 99 for almost two months now and was working hand in hand with Peralta, which had given Santiago some relief as Katie was able to appease her husband’s excited and unorthodox methods. Gina had also been back at the 99 full time since another police technician, Scott Lang, previously in charge of the switchboard, had been appointed by Fury as the new Captain’s assistant at the 101st. To say he had been star-struck by the most famous police Captain in the NYPD would be an understatement, wringing Steve’s hand up and down for what felt like 5 minutes.

All in all Steve and Katie were doing well. They were in a happy domestic arrangement. She had moved in with Steve the moment Tony and Pepper had set a date for the wedding, even before she was taken by Rumlow after they had cracked the case and well before she decided to finish her secondment in DC and come back to Brooklyn permanently. And two months later she had given up pretending it was a temporary arrangement.

In fact, one Sunday morning while they were cuddling on the sofa, after an exhausting night and an invigorating breakfast, Katie had shyly asked Steve what he would think if she said she didn't want to find her own place but stay with him till they both found a place of their own. Steve had then flashed her a smile that would have lit up all of Brooklyn on a blackout night and had kissed the life out of her before commenting on how that would be everything a man could ask for. Earning another blinding smile from Katie and a groan from Bucky who, as usual, had shown up from nowhere when he was least expected and headed for the kitchen mumbling something about being fed up of mushy remarks and having to get better ear plugs to avoid having to go to therapy.

This particular Saturday morning, Katie was slumped over the breakfast bar in the kitchen, suffering from the mother of all hangovers after returning from Pepper’s bachelorette party in the small hours. And she was whimpering like a dog when Steve slid a plate of toast and an orange juice over to her.

"You need to eat something, doll."

"Trust me, I really don’t." she said, her voice muffled by the arm that was supporting her head.

Steve was trying to be sympathetic, he really was, but he was also having a hard time simply keeping himself from laughing. Frankly, the whole scene was hilarious. She had been in a right state when she had got home and he’d had to put her to bed once she had finished puking and he had arrested and cuffed her pumps for murdering her feet as per Katie’s request. So he let out a soft chuckle and she groaned as she squinted up at him.

"You know, it’s so not fair." she said blinking at the kitchen lights which felt like piercing her eyes.

"What isn’t?" Steve asked as he poured himself some coffee.

"I came home looking like a raccoon with my make-up smeared all over…and you…" she said as she waved her hand up and down his body "you still looked gorgeous even with that black eye."

"I’m surprised you can remember anything about what you or I looked like last night."

"When I go get my eyelashes done, remind me to take a photo of yours to show the beauty therapist what I want." she continued her ramblings ignoring his comment just before her head fell back on her arms.

Steve watched her and snorted.

"Don’t laugh at me." she whined, her voice once again muffled by her arms.

"I’m not. I’m trying to decide whether you’re still drunk or hungover." he said while he took a seat on the stool next to her.

"Trust me, this is 100% hangover…" she said peeking up at him. “How are you not even remotely ill?"

Steve rolled his eyes as if the answer couldn't have been any simpler. “I didn’t drink enough to be hungover. I know my limits."

"Hmmm yeah, not enough to avoid getting into a bar brawl." And just as she said it her eyes flicked to the bruise along his left cheekbone and eye socket. She sat up to trail her fingers gently over it. "You gonna tell me the full story about what happened?"

"I already told you before Doll, it was some drunken punk in a bar picking a fight. I had to put him in his place, that’s all."

"Yeah, and he put your eye in a dark place from the looks of it." she jabbed at him.

"Trust me, he ended up far worse."

Steve saw her watching him and he tried to hold her gaze as best he could, working on keeping his face straight. But it was proving hard work seeing as he was the worst of liars, he always had been. For a moment he thought she was gonna argue but she didn’t, whether she believed him or was simply too hungover to bother pulling him up on it he had no idea. He was just grateful she didn't.

"Sure he did. Anyway, what are you and your black eye doing today?" she asked.

"I’m on groomsman duty, my suit was a little short last time I tried it on so Tony wants to make sure it fits.” He replied, thankful of the change of subject, trying to sound as casual as possible, when a sudden idea came to him. “Hey, how about we head to Ma’s for lunch? I can meet you there? That is if you feel better later. You got anything else planned, baby?"

Katie reached for the orange juice before answering "Yeah, lying on the couch waiting for death to come and take me."

Steve chuckled and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her temple but he saw her flinch as Bucky made his accustomed loud entrance in the kitchen.

"Hey doll face..." he trailed off as he looked at her, taking in her appearance and then snorted."Yikes, not looking very doll face today."

"Die Barnes" she bit back at him.

"Gladly Stark, but before I leave this world remember you promised to help me find my suit for your brother’s wedding today." Bucky informed her, a side smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

Katie then stilled "That was today?" she asked with a croaky voice.

"Yup." Bucky said and headed to the fridge to fetch some milk. "And seeing as his wedding is next week we are running out of time."

"Fuck my life." Katie groaned as Bucky poured some cereal into a bowl. "Can’t you ask anyone else? My head is killing me and I can’t feel my feet thanks to being in those ridiculous heels all night…"

"Not happening." Bucky shook his head. "Sam has some reports to finish today, but says he will join us later, and I need a woman’s advice."

"Well I don’t feel like being a woman today, Buck. Have some mercy." she said in a pleading tone, earning a chuckle from Steve who was amusingly watching the interaction while he munched his breakfast.

"Maybe I would if you hadn’t sent me the video of the stripper." Bucky took the big guns out.

Suddenly Steve spluttered on his coffee "What?"

"I thought you might enjoy it." she shrugged. "Anyway, I only did that because it was that Gemini Flannagan dude you told me about."

"Gemini Flannagan…huh, no shit?" Steve said as he dried a few coffee drops that had landed on the breakfast bar with a paper towel.

"Wanna see?" Bucky asked him with a grin.

"No, why the fuck would I want to see that?" Steve frowned, visibly disgusted.

"Because in the background to all the thrusting and gyrating dearest Gemini is doing, there’s a very interesting conversation going on between your lovely girl here and Natasha where Stark is clearly saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, that his cock is nothing to write home about because yours is bigger."

At that point Katie could only groan and hide her head in her hands.

But Bucky continued as he was having a ball "... and for the record, punk, if that’s true, I don’t know how you stand up straight." And just like that he took a spoonful of cereal and watched the pair of them.

Steve was sure he was flushing, he could feel his ears and neck burning but he was also a bit smug, well ok, not a bit, he was full on smug. That most certainly was not a bad thing for his girl to be crowing about…

And then it suddenly hit him what Bucky had said.

"Hang on…he was naked? Like…did he strip?” Katie rolled her eyes and Bucky smiled at Steve's naivety "Clue's in the name…STRIPPER. Duh." she said.

“Like he was completely naked?”

“Well not completely, no.” Katie said, “He had this little leather thong pouch type thing covering his, crotch, but it was tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination.”

"You know, if you ever get tired of chasing bad guys there’s a gig there. You already have the uniform." Bucky told his friend as he munched his cereal.

Steve, who was now bright red, tilted his head at him. "Buck, just don’t."

Bucky smiled and decided to let it go but then he saw Katie looking at Steve and a wicked smile flicked across her face.

"Can you strip for me, Captain?" she asked suggestively.

Steve groaned and stood up, still flushing. "Just eat your toast and take a painkiller. I’m going for a shower."

"I love it when you put on your Captain's voice…" she purred, which did nothing to stop Steve’s blush, quite the contrary. And he rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a straight face as she continued "Are you stripping to get in the shower, Captain?"

Bucky laughed loudly as Steve sighed and looked him. "Keep her out of trouble, punk." He ordered.

"I’m not some mischief making teenager, Steve." she protested.

"Then stop acting like one." Steve said sternly, hands on his hips and it didn’t pass him by that he was really adopting his Captain stance.

"Says the man with the black eye." she glared at him and Bucky sniggered.

"I’m going for a shower now. Behave with uncle Bucky sweetheart." he said, winking an eye at her. And as he turned to leave Katie threw the toast from her plate at him but missed completely and it ended up on the kitchen's floor by the door.

"Fuck you, Rogers." she shouted in frustration.

They heard Steve's laughter die down as the bathroom door shut.

"We don’t play with food, little miss." Bucky mock scolded Katie as he picked the toast up off the floor.

"You can piss off too."

Bucky laughed, now she was being a brat. "Sorry, but you’re cute when you’re angry and hungover."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she frowned at him.

"A James Buchanan Barnes original, yes."

"Well, given how I look and feel this morning, I’ll take it." She breathed in and nodded behind him. "Pass me the Advil, will ya Buck?"

"Sure, doll face." he said as he reached into the cupboard over the sink and tossed the packet down on the breakfast bar. "Take a few, I need you at your best this morning."

"Just my luck." she said, taking the painkillers from the packet.

Bucky chuckled and poured himself a coffee. "Blame your brother, if he had chosen me as a groomsman, I’d have my suit sorted now."

Katie snorted and tossed the pills into her mouth, taking a gulp of orange juice and swallowing.

"I mean, I get why Rhodes is his best man, like they’ve been friends forever but Rogers, Wilson and Banner as ushers, really? What about me?"

Katie looked at him "You really don’t want me to answer that, do you?"

"What you trying to say?" Bucky asked, not understanding why his question was so odd.

"Brucie and Sam are his closest friends at work and Steve’s…"

"The guy fucking his sister." he cut her off.

Katie narrowed her eyes "I was gonna say his Captain, ass hole."

Bucky simply grinned at her over his coffee mug. He loved their little bickering moments.

***** Steve pulled up outside Tony’s and headed up to the door of the large brownstone terraced house. He sighed as he rang the bell. He had been sure about this but now he didn't know if he was anymore. Anyways, he was already there and he'd better roll with it.

"Oh hey Rogers, wasn’t expecting you." Tony greeted him as he opened the door.

"Hi Tony."

"Eurgh, that black eye looks worse now than it did last night. What did Katie say?" he said pointing at Steve's face

"Nothing much. I told her it was just some drunken ass hole causing a scene. She doesn’t need to know anything else." he shrugged.

Tony arched an eyebrow at him "Ooh, Captain straight lace telling lies."

"It’s not a lie, just not the whole truth." Steve explained with a smile.

He had begun to take a liking at Tony's teasing, as long as it wasn't too personal that is. But he had to concede since they had rescued Katie from Rumlow the scientist had toned down his little jabs at the Captain.

"Whatever, your funeral when she finds out." Tony brushed Steve's explanations off with a wave of his hand. "And speaking of my sister, where is she?"

"Shopping with Bucky…complete with one hell of a hangover."

"Yeah Pepper ain't much better. Made her one of my miracle beverages. Looked worse on the way back up, which is saying something…Come on in."

Tony stepped back and let Steve into the tiled hallway, shutting the door behind him. He led the way, taking him through to the kitchen and Steve caught a glimpse of the living room when they stopped at the door.

"Pepper's on the sofa... dying. Probably best we leave her to it." Tony explained when he saw Steve was looking in her direction.

Steve smiled and nodded as Tony looked at him. "So Kiddo is shopping with a hangover? Bet she loved that." he scoffed.

"Well, you know her…never one to let someone down when she’s promised something. Bucky needs a suit for the wedding so…"

"Oh, shit, yeah…er…let me warn you, I was in the middle of a thing with our wedding planner."

Steve paused and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

Tony had never been one for warnings, he just let people draw conclusions by allowing them to dive in head first. He just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

"You’ll see." Tony said before heading into the kitchen.

Steve frowned, there was not a spark of wickedness in Tony's brown eyes when he uttered those words as he would have expected. Instead Steve could feel the exasperation in his voice.

"Steve this is Grandmaster, our wedding planner. Grandmaster this is Steve Rogers, my sister’s boyfriend."

Steve looked at Tony, mouthing Grandmaster? What kind of fucking name was that? he thought. Tony didn't bother answering. Instead, he merely took out his glasses and rolled his eyes, a gesture Steve knew only too well to mean ‘don’t ask’ as it was identical to the one Katie made.

"Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers…you’re a lucky man." the man suddenly spoke.

"Sorry, I’m not…I don’t…what?" Steve was utterly confused and finished a little lamely. His brain was having a hard time registering the wedding planner's flamboyant appearance. He was wearing a sparkly golden jacket even Bucky would have sworn off in the 80s. But his greying spiky hair and blue eyeliner combination was what had Steve floundering for words. Then, what the man had said registered and he frowned. “Lucky man?”

"Your girlfriend, Tony’s sister, I met her at the dress fitting a few weeks ago. She’s an exquisite little thing." Grandmaster explained softly.

"Oh, err, yeah… yes she is. Thank you.”

Steve saw Grandmaster bat his eyelashes at him as if to acknowledge his words. He looked at Tony once more, utterly dumbfounded. Tony simply shook his head in a just roll with it gesture and Steve suddenly realised exactly why Tony had issued a warning.

He then looked at the large table which was adorned with bits of paper, one of which looked like a seating plan, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding.

"Look, if this is a bad time I can come back…"

"Oh, no, Anthony and I were just discussing the brunch…" Grandmaster explained and grinned at Tony.

"For the last time, it’s a Reception, idiot." Tony hissed.

"No, can you…you know I don’t like that word." Grandmaster shook his head, cringing.

"What? Idiot."

"No, the…why would I not like the word idiot? I mean the R word."

Steve stood there, watching the exchange between the two men, his mouth hanging open in confusion. That Greatmaster was certainly a greater piece of work than Tony, which was saying something. Or was it Grandmaster? Whatever...

Tony let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s not a brunch, it's an afternoon... you know what? Fine. The post wedding meal."

"Ok, better." Grandmaster grinned again at him.

Steve now understood why Tony had done nothing but moan about this guy for the last few months. He was clearly a fucking sandwich short of a full picnic.

"As for the seating…just do whatever. I don’t much care." Tony conceded, visibly fed up. There's only so much a man can take after all.

"Alright, seeing as Miss Potter is not available, I’ll work on this later and email it over." the man agreed.

"It’s Miss Potts." Tony practically growled and Steve could see he was about to lose it.

"She’s more open to my ideas than you are Anthony." the wedding planner observed, not in the least fazed by his client's angry tone.

Tony stared at him, blinking. His mouth hanging slightly open in a look Steve had seen only a handful of times before, when something had rendered him speechless, which was no mean feat, before the scientist took a deep sigh.

"Whatever."

And just like that Grandmaster moved graciously around the table. Steve watched him as he gathered his papers up and popped them into a leather briefcase. He then fastened it with a click and looked at Tony.

"By the way, it smells in here…burnt toast I think.”

"Yeah, well I like my bread well done." Tony's voice was deadpan and Steve snorted as Grandmaster nodded with a smile. The guy had no idea Tony was literally making fun of him to his face.

"Alright, guess I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Anthony. Nice to meet you Mr Stevenson."

Steve's brain had not quite registered the man's name mixed-up when he heard Tony hiss through gritted teeth "It’s Rogers." He was literally lost for words. So when Grandmaster left the room Tony looked at him.

"Don’t mind him, took him some time until he stopped calling me Mr Starch. That’s why I don’t rip his tongue out for calling me Anthony."

"Yeah erm…where on Earth did you find him?"

“I’m not actually sure he’s from Earth.” Tony mumbled before he shook his head. “He was some acquaintance of Banner. Thor knew him too. He runs a company called Sakaar. They deal with events planning. And orgies, apparently." Tony explained, rubbing his temples.

Steve thought Tony had aged a decade in the ten minutes he had been dealing with his wedding planner and gave them a sympathetic smile just before his brain registered the last part. "What?"

"Don’t ask." Tony said before clapping his hands together. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Cap? You want a coffee or…?

"No thanks, I’m good." Steve cleared his throat. With all the Grandmaster dude shenanigans he had forgotten the real purpose of his visit and suddenly he could feel his palms were sweaty with nerves. "I... err... wanted to talk to you alone. There’s this thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…"

Tony arched his eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes." Steve replied way too fast. "I mean, I wanted to ask you before I ask her…"

"Her? Are you talking about Katie?"

Steve lowered his head and sighed "Yes."

"Oh, I see what’s going on." Tony said leaning against the counter, folding his arms.

"You do?" Steve asked, lifting his head up and looking at him shyly.

"No thanks to you, you’re a mess Rogers." Tony said, a gentle smile curling on his lips. "Come with me."

Steve frowned before following him "Tony, I…"

"Trust me, I have something to show you." Tony stopped and turned to look at him with a soft smile.

Steve took a breath and followed him. They headed down the hall then up the stairs and into Tony's study. Once there Steve saw Tony sit on his desk chair and begin tapping on the keyboard. Just as the screen sprang to life Tony explained. "See dad had a thing for recording videos, kind of like pep talks for the future." He pressed a few buttons more and moved the mouse before continuing. "After the one he recorded for that old journalist Mr Lee, well it got me thinking there had to be more. So I started searching through his old archives and among other things, I found something I think you’ll find interesting."

Steve frowned "What do you mean?"

Tony looked at him for an instant before looking back at the screen and smiled as he selected a file. "Lets just say my dear old pop was a visionary…"

Steve looked at him, he had no idea what the fuck was going on. Tony stood up and motioned for Steve to take his place on the desk chair

"Just watch this, then you can ask me what you wanted to ask me."

He leaned over Steve to click another button and the screen suddenly displayed Howard, perched on his desk, scotch in hand. Steve felt a shiver running down his spine.

"Is this thing rolling?" Howard asked the person behind the camera as he swirled his glass around.

"Yeah, it’s on…" a voice from off screen confirmed.

"Alright…" Howard took a swig of scotch and cleared his throat. "Tony…congratulations on being the only person I know who is nosey enough and clever enough to crack into my archives…anyway, if you’re watching this it means something has happened to me before I got the chance to tell you all this in person so…."

Steve watched as Tony pressed a key to fast forward the recording a bit, he was winding to find something, before he stopped and the screen showed Howard giving a chuckle and taking another mouth of scotch.

"So yeah, there’s always a secret door." he said before taking a deep breath. "Now I want you to show this next bit to Rogers."

Steve’s eyes widened and he felt his heart start beating fast.

"Steve, you’re like a second son to me, you know that. I hope you’re doing well. I have no doubt you’ve made Captain by now, possibly even Commissioner, depending on how old this recording is. Not too old I hope. Anyway, I digress. I’m willing to bet you’ve cracked a few big cases too."

Steve gulped as he watched his old mentor continue to talk to him through the screen. He couldn't even tear his eyes from the screen to see Tony's reaction.

"Good job son. Now, onto something far more important to me. I hope you and my princess have realised by now you’re made for each other, because I already know you are."

Steve’s breath caught in his throat, his heart was now pounding.

"So if you’re watching this, and you’ve finally figured that out, then I’m giving you my blessing son. If you haven’t figured it out, then you’re a pair of dumbasses." Howard groaned at the last part and Steve gave a soft snort of laughter, shaking his head. "I’d be over the moon knowing you two have finally realised what has been in front of you for the past god knows how long."

"10 fucking years…" Tony mumbled from where he was leaning against a bookcase behind Steve, arms crossed and his right hand covering his mouth and jaw.

Howard then swallowed a little and wiped at his eye as he looked down at his feet taking a deep breath, clearly emotional, before he looked back up.

"Just look after her, treat her well and make her happy. I’m trusting you with one of my most treasured accomplishments son. And I only wish I could be there to walk her down the aisle to hand her over to the person I’d trust her with over anyone." Howard smiled and then thought about something a moment before he continued. “Just don’t try to understand her.” Howard shrugged “Because the minute you think you know what’s going on inside a woman’s head is the moment you’re goose is cooked.”

At that he sat up straight, slipping back into the Howard Steve knew all too well and looked at the camera.

"Ok, you can stop that thing now…" Steve heard him say before the screen went blank.

The room fell silent and Steve swallowed, trying to digest what he had just seen. The lump in his throat felt like a damned golf ball. Seeing his old mentor, his girl’s dad like that, in such an unguarded way had really made him emotional. When he recovered a bit he turned to look at Tony, who was in turn looking at him, and saw his eyes were misting over slightly. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

Steve chuckled "You still gonna make me say it?"

"Humour me Rogers, I like to see you squirm." Tony teased him, regaining his composure.

Steve took a deep breath before speaking, hoping his voice would come out as steady as possible given the circumstances.

"Tony, I’m gonna ask Katie to marry me. And it would mean the world to me, if I had your blessing."

Tony smiled and looked at his feet before he glanced back up "Then you got it, Steve."

Steve felt a feeling of relief wash over him, the fact he had used his name, for the first time in years, and not some stupid nickname didn’t pass him by. He smiled widely as Tony extended his hand, before he pulled him into a brotherly hug.

“Scotch?” Tony asked him as he pulled back.

Steve nodded, smiling widely. "Absolutely."

CONTINUED IN PART 2

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

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stormtrprinstilettos · 5 years

Text

“Be a good girl, now.” - Roger x Reader (filthy smut)

Here’s more of your single dad Roger, ladies! 18+ only!

{Part 1 here}

Language. Smut. (Because I can’t seem to write without either.) Age gap. Everything.

Summary: Mr. Taylor hires you to babysit his two kids. (For argument’s sake, Reader is 18/19/20... whatever you want her to be, so she’s legal – I know if I don’t clarify this someone will have something to say.)

[A/N: Guess we have a series now. This is dedicated to all the thirsty bitches out there who encourage me to write filth like this. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.]

You should have been in class, but you can never say “no” to Mr. Taylor, which is why you begged your professor to let you take the exam with the class before yours. She was a hard bitch to deal with, but luckily for you, you can be quite the convincing actress when you need to be. Feigning some mysterious illness that you needed to have tests run for wasn’t you’re proudest moment, but she bought it, and you were able to finish early and rush to the Taylor household to take care of the kids while daddy goes and practices with the band. And since it’s warm out today, you can wear that cute new sundress you bought yesterday without any ulterior motive.

Don’t kid yourself. You wore it with a single purpose in mind, and you hoped like hell it was going to work.

“She’s here!” you hear Liv yell out after you ring the doorbell. “I’m going to open the door!”

“No!” you hear Mr. Taylor – oops… Roger yell back with a laugh. “You can’t just open it without knowing who it is.” He rushes to the door and opens it. “Well what do you know,” he turns back to Liv. “It really is her,” he says as he turns back and greets you with a smile that you easily reciprocate. “Hello there.”

“Hi, Mr… Roger,” you say. “I hope I’m not late.”

He looks down at his watch then back up at you. “Nope. You’re 5 minutes early.”

“Well come in, Y/N!” Liv says, tugging at the bottom of your dress. “I need your help.” You giggle and walk in, following Liv into the kitchen. “I’m trying to make cookies.”

“Cookies?” you ask in a surprised voice, trying not to laugh as you take in the utter catastrophe that’s on the counters. “What’s the special occasion?”

“A party!” she exclaims. “Daddy said I can have a party but I can only invite princesses.” You turn back and grin at Roger and he shrugs his shoulders. “I only know two of them so I can’t invite my friends,” she says in a somewhat sad tone. “But you’re invited!” Her smile grows big and she waves you down so she can tell you a secret. “Because you’re a princess.” She giggles and gets back to mixing whatever concoction she threw together.

“Does she even know what she’s doing?” you whisper in a giggle to Roger.

“Not a clue,” he laughs. He walks into the foyer and calls for Audrey (who is still insisting on being called Birdie) so he can tell the girls goodbye before he heads out. After Birdie walks into the kitchen to complete the mess with her sister, you follow Roger to the door so you can lock up when he leaves. “Thanks again for coming,” he tells you when he steps out. “I owe you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Taylor,” you say with a cheeky grin as you lean against the door.

His eyes roam up and down, taking mental notes of the way you look, and he smirks when his eyes meet back with yours. “I shouldn’t be any later than 9, 10:00.”

“Hmm,” you smirk. “They’ll be asleep by then.”

He nods his head, the smirk never leaving his face. “Then I’ll need your help,” he says. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Mr. Taylor.” There’s a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by arguing. “I guess I better go see what that’s about,” you giggle. “Have a good practice.” He smiles and turns to walk away, and you close and lock the door before taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the obviously ensuing chaos in the kitchen.

Liv and Birdie were beside themselves with giddiness all day and you didn’t realize how unprepared you were. But you enjoyed spending more than just a few hours with them, and you did your best to make every single minute enjoyable for them. You don’t know how you did it, but you even made cleaning the kitchen fun. Maybe they willingly agreed because you promised them they could go swimming when it was finished. And after swimming they didn’t fight you when you had them take their baths and wash their hair, maybe because you promised to do their hair and makeup before dinner.

They’re sitting across from the table, whispering and giggling with each other and keep looking over at you. When they would, you’d smile and they’d start giggling again. The phone rings, so you get up to answer it. “She is a princess, Birdie!” Liv fusses. “Daddy even said so!” You chuckle to yourself as you pick up the phone.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and tell the girls goodnight,” Roger says. “Are they still awake?”

You look over at the clock. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize how late it is. Yeah, they’re here.”

He stops you before you can put the phone down. “Still wearing that dress?” he murmurs.

You giggle. “Of course I am.”

“Hmm,” he chuckles. “Can’t wait to get you out of it.”

“Oh really, Mr. Taylor?” you giggle. The girls hear you and rush over to the phone. “Here they are,” you say before you hand them the receiver and go to clear the table.

After getting the girls ready for bed, you tuck them in and start to walk out the door. “Are you really a princess, Y/N?” Birdie asks. “Because I don’t think you are.”

“She is!” Liv yells. “I told you. Daddy even says she is. He saw her with a wand and everything!”

“Yeah? How do you even know?” Birdie yells back with exorbitant sarcasm.

“Because yesterday when Uncle Brian was here I told him that she was a princess!” Liv started to explain. “And Uncle Brian asked if she had a wand and daddy told him that she’s really good with her hand on his wand!”

You start to choke on the deep breath of air you just inhaled. “Alright, girls, it’s time to sleep.” You turn out the light and start to walk out.

“Will you be here again tomorrow morning?” Birdie asks. “Like you were the last time you were here?”

“Yeah, Y/N!” Liv shouted. “Please be here in the morning!”

You giggle. “We’ll see. Now get some sleep, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow regardless.”

As soon as you get back downstairs, the phone starts to ring. You rush to answer it before the girls come running down. “Hey, it’s me,” you hear Roger say.

“Just put them in bed,” you tell him.

“I’m not calling to check up on you,” he chuckles. “I just wanted to let you know this is dragging on longer than I thought.” He starts to whisper. “I wouldn’t be opposed to coming home and seeing you completely naked in my bed.”

“You just want me to use my hand on your wand again,” you tease and hear him start to breathe worriedly. “Oh, don’t worry, silly. I just hope you don’t want to eventually have to share me with Uncle Brian. You’re clearly giving me a reputation.”

He starts to laugh before toning his voice back down to a whisper. “No, no sharing. Not with Uncle Brian. Or anyone, for that matter.” You hear someone calling him in the background and he hurries to finish the conversation. “Be a good girl, now.”

“I’m always a good girl, Mr. Taylor.”

And because you’re a good girl, you take his hint and go to his bedroom when you’re ready to sleep, take off your dress – and everything else you’re wearing – and climb under the sheet. You drift off to sleep, but you’re not sure for how long. But you do wake up, laying on your back, when you feel someone's hands running along your naked body.

You look over through your sleepy eyes and see Roger, laying on his side, his hand sliding over your breast, his thumb rubbing little circles over your erect nipple. His hand roams over your hip and caresses your thigh, smoothly and lightly. You smile at him, completely comfortable and relaxed, and here he is, touching you.

He slides his head closer to you, and you part your lips, expecting a kiss, but his kiss lands on your cheek, and another on your earlobe. His exploring hand slides back up the inside of your thigh and slightly grazes your your labia, causing you to sigh. He nudges your jaw with his nose, turning your head slightly away from him, before his lips discover the newly exposed expanse of neck. "Mmm," you moan lazily. He places his fingers over your clit and moves them in a wide, slow circle. "Oh, Roger," you breathe, so beautifully tortured.

His lips move across your neck, from right to left, as you roll your head slowly from one side to the other to allow him access. His hand between your legs continues on its lazy journey. As you start to roll your hips against it, he applies more pressure, increasing his speed.

His mouth trails down from your neck as he shifts his body to bring his head to your breasts. His other hand appears, supporting each breast in turn, massaging them as his lips and tongue run across them. He takes each nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and rolling his tongue around. Your breathing, already heavy, turns into sheer moaning. "I love the sounds you make," he whispers as his middle finger starts to glide up and down along your slit.

This elicits another longer moan. You’ve been awake only a few minutes and you’re already wet enough to drown in. He slips his finger inside, toying with you. His lips quit your tender nipples and make their way lower, kissing a line across your belly. He lays down on his stomach, legs hanging off the end of the bed, as he kisses a trail across your abdomen and down a winding path toward your cleft. He moves his finger deeper inside you as his lips find the upper folds of your labia. His tongue shoots out, tracing circles around your clit before covering it with his mouth to suckle it. Over and over he presses against it with his tongue before bringing his lips over it to kiss and suck some more.

He drags his tongue down to where his finger still curled and pumping inside you, joining them together, soaking in your juices, sliding inside with his mouth smashed against you, lapping up your nectar. He lingers here for an hour, a day, a week – you can't tell. You only know the gentle movement of his finger, his strong tongue sliding inside you, the sucking and slurping as he enjoys every single second. This is all so new to you – along with that night last week – having a man, a real man – not some boy – do everything he can to make you feel this way. To worship you. You can easily cum right now, but you don’t let yourself. You want this to last as long as possible.

He moves back to your clit, lingers there a while, taking turns sucking at your little nub and then moving back down to thrust his tongue deep inside you. You start to writhe and moan beneath his seductive torture, and start to whisper his name. "Oh, Roger, you gasp. "Oh, yes…yes, please… Roger…" Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you pump your hips, grinding yourself into his face. You hold yourself up on your elbow – you want to watch him – and your movements become wild, so he simply holds his tongue out, allowing you to fuck it, only tilting his head slightly up and down as you run your pussy over it again and again.

As you cum, he ducks his head down to lap up all the juice that’s flowing freely from you. He runs his tongue up over your lips again and again, from the bottom to the top, sucking up every drop of fluid that comes. "Oh, Roger, god, that's fucking incredible," you groan as the surge of your orgasm wells up and wrecks your body as your thighs spasm and squeeze his head between them.

You fall back, exhausted. "Fuck," you say between deep breaths. After he finishes licking you clean, he stands up, wiping at his lips with his finger and thumb and smirks at you. His cock pokes through the flap in his boxers, inviting you to play. He crawls back on the bed, hovering himself over you as he hypnotizes you with his eyes, smiling and leaning in for a kiss. Your hands reach his waist, pushing his boxers down before dragging your nails up to his back. “May I?” you ask in a whisper as your hand gently grabs hold of his already rock hard member, rubbing slowly up and down the shaft. His smirk is the only answer you need.

He lays down on his back and you position yourself between his legs, sliding your tongue up and down his thighs just a little, before moving to the base of his cock, licking his balls, slowly, kissing them, letting your lips slightly graze them. You glide your tongue up the whole length of his shaft, just once, before looking at him with a devilish grin. “Does this feel good?” you ask, keeping your hand around it, letting your tongue flick up and down just underneath the head. His cock jumps slightly and he groans, his hand finding its way to your hair. You slowly, sensually kiss the tip over and over, with little pauses in between, looking up at his eyes the whole time.

“Wow, Y/N,” he groans with a slight chuckle. “Who taught you how to do this?” You wrap your warm, wet lips over the tip and let them slide off his cock again.

“You just lay back and enjoy,” you say, giggling as you wrap your mouth back around the tip, slowly licking the precum into your mouth. You kiss up and down his cock slowly before letting mouth wrap around, tighter this time, sucking more of his cock this time, never taking your eyes from his. His hand rests on the back of your head as you bob up and down, taking as much as you can in your mouth and using your hand to take care of the rest.

“Stop,” he groans. “I want to be in you,” he says, pulling you up and laying you on your back. He hovers over you once more, leaning down to kiss you slowly, deeply, as he pushes his dick inside. “So… fucking tight,” he groans as you gasp, slowly and gently thrusting himself in and out of you until you can take every last inch of him.

“Don’t be gentle, Mr. Taylor," you tell him with a smirk as he looks down at you. You know what you want. You want to be fucked hard and fast. You’ve waited what felt like eons to get back here in his bed and you were going to enjoy this.

“You’re not such a good girl, are you Y/N?” he chuckles. You hold on for dear life, gripping the sheets as he plows into you with a force you never knew was possible. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

His voice, the sound of his raspy voice always does things to you, but hearing him talk to you like this, in this moment, is creating a new feeling. “You make me that way, Mr. Taylor,” you groan. His thrusts get harder, and you’re doing your best not to make too much noise, but with every push, your moans get louder and louder. He leans down and takes your nipple in his teeth, biting down gently before pulling away and doing the same to the other one.

He nuzzles his face in your neck, nibbling gently, and you can hear his heavy panting in your ear. “You’ve never been properly fucked, Y/N,” he groans. “I’m going to show you how you should be fucked all the time.” He leans back up and throws your legs up on his shoulders so he could get his perfect cock even deeper into your pussy. Your legs start to violently shake, and your entire body follows and you can't silence or hold back the screams that emanate from deep within your core. “Now you’re being a good girl,” he grunts. You’ve lost all control over your body. Your pussy starts to spasm in ways it never had before, your body completely part of every wave of pleasure that is coursing through you.

"Oh my god!" you scream, looking up to see his beautifully ruthless eyes. He’s enjoying doing this to you, making you scream and writhe with pleasure. He pounds into you harder and faster, making you scream even more as your back arches, every inch of your body shaking with an uncontrollable thrill. You didn’t think it could get any better than last time. You were wrong. "I can't take any more!" you shout out, begging him to stop.

"Yes, you can Y/N,” he growls. “I thought you were a good girl."

"I am, but..." He doesn't let you finish. He fucks you even harder until you scream again, your body twisting, trying to get away from him. The pleasure is so intense it’s almost too much. You’ve never experienced such a torturous pleasure. "Fuck! Fuck! Stop!"

"Good girl needs a break?" he laughs as he stops and lays your legs back down to the bed.

"Fuck! Yes. I'm weak," you giggle. He pulls out of you and laughs as he looks at you laying in a naked heap on the bed, panting like a dog. He already destroyed you and it’s only just begun.

"How about a new position?" he asks. You slowly nod your head. "Get on your hands and knees. I want to see that ass.”

"Like this?" you giggle, wagging your ass at him, tauntingly.

"Mmm.. That is a fantastic ass." He gets into position behind you, gives you a playful grab and slide his cock into you again. He leans down and whispers into your ear. "You feel so good. I could fuck you like this every day."

"I couldn’t handle this every day,” you giggle. “It's too much.”

"I thought you were a good girl. Where’s my good girl?" he asks as he slams his cock into you. You make a wounded whimper as his cock hits the tenderest part inside of you. But he doesn't stop, instead he keeps slamming into you with the kind of force a good girl like you enjoys.

Your body responds, instantly cumming all over his meat. He grips your shoulders, pulling you closer to his dick so he can slam into you even deeper. You stop trying to fight it, letting him pull your hair as he pounds you. You scream again, hoping like hell the girls don’t hear you. You sound like you’re being wounded and destroyed. You sound like someone else right now, but you’re completely in the moment, loving the painful pleasure that he’s giving you. No one else can fuck you this hard. No one else can make you feel the things that he’s making you feel right now.

As amazing as he is at fucking, you know that he probably fucked like this with every girl that he’s been with. You aren't special to him. You know that he’s every girl's favorite and of course, he’s yours. It doesn't mean you’re his favorite. It meant that he’s the best fuck in the world and you don't know why you’re even thinking about this right now. He’s ravishing you right now. You need to relax and enjoy it.

You cum again. You’ve cum more times with him in the time he’s been fucking you than you had in the past two years with other guys. He smacks your ass hard a few times and this only makes you cum harder. The pleasure is too much, way past your threshold yet you force yourself to take more of it, to cum as many times as he can make you.

"There's my Y/N,” he groans. “Take my cock like a good girl. There you go. Cum on my dick. You're so fucking sexy." You scream incomprehensible gibberish as you cum yet again, and then again. There was no stopping him. You’re losing your damn mind, unable to comprehend how much you’ve cum when he finally leans down and whispers into your ear with a commanding tone. "You're mine. This pussy is mine. Do you hear me?”

"Yes, it's yours!" you scream, and you mean it. If you could cum like this all the time with him, you will. You’ll give him your pussy. You’ll give him everything he wanted because you know no one will ever make you feel the way he does.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming, Y/N." He leans over you as he finishes himself off inside you. The sounds he makes as he ejaculated – half moan and half scream? There’s no sexier man on the planet than Roger at this very moment. You can feel him go limp as he slides out of you and falls to the bed, exhausted.

“Aww, Mr. Taylor needs a break?” you giggle, rubbing his back and kissing him on his shoulder. He turns his head to face you, greeting you with a beaming smile. “That was…”

“Phenomenal.”

“I was going to say incredible, but that works too.”

“Come here,” he groans, rolling on his side and pulling you to him. He holds you tight and you both start to drift off to sleep.

You know you’re in trouble. You know you can't say no to him. You’d let him do anything he wanted to your body and you know it won't be long until he catches on that you’d do anything for him. What man wouldn't take advantage of this situation? Then again, what girl wouldn’t?

Permatags: @clogwearingspacepoodle @briansfatbottomgirl @culturefiendtrashqueen @jennyggggrrr @shutup-sorry @dontstopmemeow @letmelivetaylor @tommyleeownsme @ziggymay @drowseoftaylor @mariekuuuuuh @biscuit-barrel @givemequeen @luvborhap

People who said they wanted this filth: @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @dankgreens @capan-devereaux @langdonzvoid @woaholland @maggieroseevans

#single dad rog #roger taylor #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor x fem reader #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fanfic #i am going to hell #but that’s okay

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k-drabblings · 5 years

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only then (pt. 5)

KIM JIWON (BOBBY) X READER Type | Genre: badboy au | fluff/angst Word Count: 1663 A/N: I thought this was much longer than 1.6k words... Guess not. Also I do update very very slow, I know. It’s mostly because I have no idea what to write next, and I don’t want to write nonsense. So thank you for your patience. I hope this doesn’t disappoint! To be honest, it feels a little weird to write about Hanbin after the huge scandal, but it felt weirder leaving him out of the story after including him in the beginning.

Also wtf happened to line breaks? Why is that not an option anymore? This sucks.

part one two three four

Jiwon looked at the well healed scar on his arm fondly, running his finger along the raised ridge. His smile couldn’t help but widen as his phone buzzed.

[23:22] y/n: i can’t sleep [23:22] jiwon: y? [23:22] jiwon: cause ur too excited to be talking to me? [23:23] y/n: ... zzz ... [23:23] y/n: o look i fell asleep

He chuckled. Within a matter of days, teasing had already become part of their regular banter. So cute.

[23:23] jiwon: ... [23:23] jiwon: do u think ur funny or something bc let me tell u rn that u r not [23:23] jiwon: boooooooo [23:24] y/n: if im so unfunny then y r u texting me hmm HMM??? [23:24] jiwon: cause i pity u [23:24] y/n: ... [23:24] y/n: GOODNIGHT

Even though he knew was joking, his fingers still quickly scrambled to reply.

[23:24] jiwon: im just kidding!! [23:24] jiwon: ur funny sometimes [23:24] jiwon: a little bit [23:24] jiwon: real little [23:25] y/n: then go talk to ur other super exciting and funny friends y dont u [23:25] jiwon: now dont be jealous [23:25] jiwon: the more time u spend with me the more exciting and fun u become [23:25] y/n: ive only seen u like 3x [23:25] jiwon: thats y ur so not funny

His finger hovered over the keyboard, wondering if he should type out the next line. He knew it was probably a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself. Fuck it. He firmly pressed the upward arrow.

[23:26] jiwon: so i guess we’ve come to the logical conclusion that we should hang out more [23:26] y/n: i guess we have

You felt bold as you sent that last message. Was this considered flirting? You hadn’t known that your heart rate could increase so much within a mere 4 minutes. The past few nights had consisted of increasingly witty and teasing messages - messages that got your heart racing, your face flushing, and your imagination going a little crazy. Nothing even close to romantic had happened between you and him, and yet your ridiculous mind was coming up with possible scenarios that could maybe (just maaaybe) happen in the nearby future. You felt like an silly high schooler again, getting too easily excited over someone you barely knew. You didn’t even know how exactly how old he was or what he did for living.

But all those unanswered questions just made you more excited - kind of like a good mystery book you just didn’t want to put down.

[23:27]: jiwon: ok so whens ur next day off

Your breath hitched. You were off the upcoming Thursday, which was in 2 days. You hadn’t expected the next time you were going to see Jiwon to come so soon. You were used to seeing him like twice a month. You knew you could simply lie and give him your next day off, which was in a week or so, but you knew you didn’t want to wait that long.

[23:28] y/n: thursday [23:28] jiwon: ok cool so ill see u then [23:28] jiwon: and if ur busy... [23:28] jiwon: make yourself unbusy thanks

Your lips curled into a smile. How could someone this cute possibly be bad news?

“You’re distracted, Hyung.” Donghyuk mumbled quietly so Hanbin wouldn’t hear.

“Hm?” Jiwon murmured. “Nah, I’m good.”

Donghyuk’s eyes narrowed as he carefully tried to peer over Jiwon’s shoulder to see what was keeping him so preoccupied. A girl’s name. He rolled his eyes. He was more than willing to bet that this was the same girl that had so nicely bandaged Jiwon up that rainy night. “Let’s keep outsiders... outsiders, okay, Hyung?” Donghyuk warned in a hushed tone.

Jiwon immediately shut off his phone screen and gave his younger friend a long hard stare. “I’m not fucking stupid, okay?”

And of course, despite Donghyuk’s words, he still went to see her on Thursday. They met up later in the afternoon, mainly because he slept in well into the afternoon. Since he did his work mainly at night, his sleeping schedule tended to be slightly off. When he woke up, you were getting some errands done - groceries and such. That gave him some time to get dressed and ready - he wanted to look good for the first date. This is a date right? He hadn’t made it explicitly clear, but he was hoping you were on the same page as he was.

He recalled the the other day that you had said you wanted to try this restaurant that you had seen on some celebrities eating on TV. And since it was on the other side of Seoul Station, they could walk along Seoullo 7017 along the way. He supposed that would be a good, somewhat nice way to start the date.

And you were delightfully surprised at how much Jiwon had actually planned out. You wouldn’t say it aloud, but you had been expecting somewhat of a haphazard schedule of activities that randomly popped up into his mind.

“You look cute.” You jokingly scowled. “Are you saying I wasn’t cute before?” He rolled his eyes and laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He put his hands up defensively when he earned a playful punch to the arm. “Hey, you gotta appreciate my honesty, right?” He grinned. “No, but seriously. You should wear dresses more often.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled shyly, having always been slightly awkward at accepting compliments. You glanced down at your outfit. It was a pretty plain dress, but this was the most dressed up he had ever seen you.

“Where’s the scar from - if you don’t mind me asking?” He asked, pointing to the mark on your forearm. If it hadn’t been for that scar, he probably would have never recognized you. “Nothing cool,” you responded. “Got it while I was helping out at the bakery a while ago. Hot stuff can do that to you sometimes, you know.” He laughed. “See? You’re already getting funnier - thanks to me.” You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly but couldn’t help but join him in laughter.

You were sure he had a fair share of scars all over his body, and also exciting stories behind them. But you were reluctant to ask, afraid that it could ruin the lighthearted mood.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur - partially because Jiwon had convinced you to share a bottle of soju with him during dinner. ‘You can’t enjoy pork belly without soju!’ he had insisted. You had initially refused, being worried that you might end up blabbering and saying something stupid or embarrassing. But Jiwon was one convincing young man.

But luckily the only embarrassing thing that slipped out was a, “Fine, you’re kinda cute, okay?” after he had pestered you about what you thought about him. And boy, did he enjoy that answer.

You were partially disappointed when the date ended with a simple hug. You probably would have thought he were moving too fast if he had gone in for a kiss, but by no means would you have refused. In fact, as much as you hated to admit it, you'd immediately have shut your eyes and puckered your lips. But a long, warm hug was what you got tonight. And you weren’t complaining. "Thanks. Today was really fun,” you said with a warm smile. “Okay, so when can we have fun again?”

All of a sudden, you had something to look forward to every week. Every date with Jiwon was exciting. You got to experience thrilling things like ziplining, but even just sitting at a cafe and chatting got your heart pumping. You felt like your life had been recharged. You had even bravely kissed him on the cheek when he had dropped you off at your door tonight.

As Jiwon walked over to work after dropping you off, he heard a familiar voice calling his name. “Jiwon Hyung! Hyung!” Junhoe shouted from down the block. "Where’re you coming from?” He asked, frowning. Wherever Jiwon was coming from, it wasn’t from the direction of his home. Jiwon played it off vaguely. “Just was doing something. Don’t worry about it.” “Come on, tell me!” Junhoe whined. “Why’s it a secret, huh?” Jiwon pressed his fingers against his tall friend’s forehead and gave it a good shove. “Have you ever heard of a personal space? Look it up.” He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had made him so easily excited, and he wasn’t willing to part with you now.

His friends had also noticed that he was constantly in a good mood these past few weeks. Donghyuk wasn’t too happy about it, but the others seemed to enjoy having a less moody Jiwon around. He wondered if Hanbin knew what Jiwon was getting himself into outside of work. But he didn’t want to tick off Jiwon, so he kept his mouth shut. A pissed off Jiwon was one scary man.

“How long do u plan on keeping this up, Hyung? It’s going to serve as a distraction to you and a danger to her. She doesn’t even know what you really do. If you tell her, do you think she’ll stay?” Donghyuk hissed. “Yeah, right.” “I know. I know.” Jiwon mumbled. This was like the fifth time he had approached him about this issue. He was thankful that Donghyuk hadn’t blabbed to the rest of the guys, but it was a disturbing reminder every time. Why was it so wrong to enjoy it while it lasted?

#jiwon #kim jiwon #bobby kim #bobby #ikon #ikon bobby #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfics #jiwon x reader #bobby x reader #ikon scenarios #kpop imagines

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naegiriweek · 4 years

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Day One: Ill

A/N: Here's my first submission for Naegiri Week 2019. This is set in the "Danganronpa Gaiden" Universe I have been writing on AO3; more specifically between the events of Trigger Happy Havoc and Ultra Despair Girls. Anyone interested can find me under the username WiiFan2009. I recommend starting with my novelization of Trigger Happy Havoc: "The Ultimate Detective and the Ultimate Hope: Surviving the First Killing Game." Anyways, now that the Author's Note is out of the way, enjoy the fic below!

Naegiri Week 2019 Day One: Ill

The Ultimate Detective and the Ultimate Hope Gaiden: Kyoko’s Collapse! Makoto Returns a Favor!

“Alright then. Byakuya, give us the summary of your financial statement.”

Nodding to his boss, the former Ultimate Affluent Progeny distributed sheets of paper to the other members of the 14th Division, stating “Very well. I’ll make sure to use small words, so even certain commoners can follow along.”

Makoto and Kyoko rolled their eyes, used to Byakuya’s jabs, while Hiro objected “Hey!” at the obvious knock on his intelligence.

As Byakuya droned on and on, Kyoko felt the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling a tightness in her nostrils. This caused Makoto to look in her direction in concern. He quickly scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it over to Kyoko, who discreetly read Makoto’s remarks.

Are you alright?

Smiling at Makoto’s concern, she wrote underneath it and passed the paper scrap back to him.

I’m fine. It’s nothing that can’t wait until after our meeting ends.

Makoto frowned but nodded, and both parties returned their attention back to Byakuya’s report. As Byakuya continued to explain the 14th Division’s expenditures and expected revenue, Kyoko felt her condition start to worsen; she started to feel clammy in her Future Foundation business suit. She wiped her hand on her forehead and looked at her glove; it had become covered in droplets of sweat. She discreetly wiped it on her calf, but not quick enough to skip Makoto’s line of sight. His concern growing, Makoto scribbled some more on his sheet of paper, then passed it to Kyoko who read it.

Kirigiri-san, are you sure you’re alright? You look like –

That was all she was able to read before the paper was snatched out of her line of vision; grasped in the hand of an irritated Byakuya.

“I wonder what’s so interesting that you two would rather pass notes back and forth like we’re still in middle school than listen to my report. It disgusts me to say it, but even Hiro is being a better student than you.”

Makoto looked down sheepishly as Byakuya began to read the note exchange. Scrutinizing Kyoko, he noticed the sweat on Kyoko’s brow and narrowed his eyes.

“I have better things to do than waste my breath on an oration to an audience who is clearly too ill to appreciate it. Go to bed, Kirigiri, and maybe we can reschedule this meeting to a time when everyone can pay attention.”

Not offended by Byakuya’s backhanded way of expressing concern for her health, Kyoko shook her head and explained “As I was trying to tell Makoto, I’m fine. I’m probably just a little tired from having to pull a few all-nighters getting crucial paperwork done. I’ll take it easy after the meeting, I promise, but I assure you I have been following along with your report. Now, shall we continue?”

Byakuya scrutinized her face, looking for any possible tells that indicated fibbing, while Makoto continued to look at Kyoko with concern.

She pulled…several all-nighters?

“Alright. I’ll give you a quick quiz to see if you’ve been paying attention, and if you can answer correctly, I’ll overlook this and continue with my report. Are we in agreement?”

Nodding her acceptance to Byakuya’s challenge, Kyoko tried to focus as he asked her about the total expenditures listed on his report. But to Kyoko, he may as well have been speaking gibberish; his words blended until the young woman unable to differentiate them. Soon her vision followed suit; colors mixed and swirled, and she was no longer able to make out individual people or objects.

“Kirigiri-san! Are you alright?”

Unable to make out Makoto’s voice, Kyoko shakily stood up, her legs wobbling as she slammed her left hand on the table to steady herself while laying her right on her face, trying to relieve some of the tension she was feeling.

“Woozy…what’s…where…”

She then lost her last grip on her ability to stay conscious, eyes closing as the blend of colors was replaced by pure black. Her hand slipping, she started to fall backwards. Time seemed to slow down for everyone else as they saw just how ill their leader was. Makoto’s face morphed into one of horror as he spontaneously rushed to catch her. His arms wrapped protectively around her belly he fell with the momentum on his rear, Kyoko’s head resting on his lap.

“Kirigiri-san? Kirigiri-san!”

As Makoto unwrapped one arm to move his hand to shake her shoulder, Byakuya took charge; he pointed at Hiro and ordered “Yasuhiro! Inform Yukizome that Kirigiri has passed out and bring her here at once!”

Still in shock, Hiro only nodded before racing out the door to find Chisa. Byakuya turned his attention back to Makoto who was till trying to shake Kyoko awake.

“Kiri? Kiri?”

Before long, Hiro raced back in the door with Chisa in tow, only to be greeted by the sight of a tearful and crying Makoto, who had grabbed Kyoko’s other shoulder as well and was shaking her violently in a desperate attempt to wake her up.

“Kyoko! Kyoko!!!”

XXX

Chisa had luckily been able to persuade Makoto to let her carry the unconscious Kyoko to her dorm where she would perform a brief checkup to ascertain the cause of Kyoko’s illness. Word of Kyoko’s collapse had even managed to reach the 13th Division, and Hina immediately raced in after being given permission from her boss to go to Kyoko’s side.

And there all the survivors of the 78th Class stood, huddled around Kyoko’s bed waiting for Chisa to finish her examination. Makoto cried into Hina’s shirt, still overwhelmed with fear and anxiety at Kyoko’s condition, leaving the former Ultimate Swimming Pro to awkwardly embrace the young Ultimate Hope, trying to offer reassurances but feeling completely inadequate, relying solely on her memories of comforting her younger brother Yuta. Toko and Hiro bore distressed expressions while Byakuya merely stared with a neutral, business-like expression.

“Okay!”

As Chisa clapped her hands, everyone else stood at attention, Makoto letting go of Hina before wiping his eyes on his wrist.

“The good news is that Kyoko doesn’t have anything remotely life-threatening, so all she needs is some time on bedrest and she’ll be as good as new.”

Byakuya retained his neutral expression while Toko settled into a matching neutral expression. Hina, Hiro, and Makoto beamed wide smiles with relief, thrilled that their friend was going to make it just fine.

“That being said…” Chisa suddenly put her ands on her hips and glared at the Hope’s Peak survivors before lecturing “I took her temperature and it spiked at 102 degrees! Her arms and legs were slightly swollen from overuse. And her eyes were slightly bloodshot! It’s obvious that the poor girl overworked herself to the bone, and it weakened her immune system until it reached the breaking point that you see before you. You’re all a bunch of rotten oranges for letting her get this ill!”

Overworked? Why…why didn’t I notice earlier? It was then that Makoto finally chose to speak, revealing timidly “She said…just today…that she had been pulling some all-nighters to finish paperwork…when I had asked her if she was alright…”

As Makoto kicked himself for being obliviousness to Kyoko’s physical state, Chisa’s eyes softened before she sighed and acquiesced “…What’s done is done. Not much we can do about it now. But one of you should stay by her bedside for the next day or so to tend to her and help her recover. Any volunteers?”

Before anyone could voice why they could or couldn’t, Makoto piped up “I’ll do it!” At Chisa’s surprised expression, Makoto explained “Like you said, Yukizome-san, it’s kind of my fault that this happened. I wasn’t observant enough about her health until it was too late. Plus…there was a time at Hope’s Peak when I was sick, and she tended to me until I got better. So…” Makoto bowed and declared “I want to return the favor! I want to help to take care of her now that she’s ill. And I promise, I won’t abandon her. So please…let me stay be her side!”

Nobody could have gone unmoved by Makoto’s speech; even Byakuya and Toko softly smiled at Makoto’s devotion, while Hina and Hiro gave tearful smiles at his display.

Chisa smiled and patted Makoto’s head before she squealed “There’s hope for you yet, my little rotten orange!”

Does she have to call us rotten oranges?

The survivors sweatdropped as she repeated her kind-of-insult for them. She put her hand on Makoto’s shoulder and said “Alright, Makoto; we’ll leave Kyoko’s care in your capable hands! Remember, you promised to never abandon her!”

Nodding violently, Makoto grabbed a chair as he dragged it to Kyoko’s bedside, plopping himself down and focusing his eyes on his boss.

As he was leaving the room, Byakuya said “I’ll assume leadership as Acting Head until Kirigiri recovers. Until then, our status meeting is hereby postponed pending her full recovery.”

As Hiro and Toko followed him out, Hina pumped her fists and enthusiastically encouraged “You can do it Makoto! I’ll drop off some super special, handmade donuts to help her recover afterwards!”

…Wouldn’t soup be better for this kind of occasion?

Makoto shook his head in amusement at Hina’s well-intentioned enthusiasm before adopting a more serious expression and turning his gaze back to his patient.

XXX

Kyoko unconsciously sighed as Makoto placed a wet hand towel on her forehead, the cool, damp texture soothing her fever for the time being. As Makoto later removed the towel and placed it next to the bucket of water on her dresser, his brow furrowed with worry and guilt.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? And why didn’t you tell me you had so much paperwork that you didn’t even sleep? I would have helped you, Kyoko!”

Of course, Kyoko couldn’t hear him in her delirious state, and to Makoto it was just as well. He sighed and sat back down, Hina’s box of “Get Well“ donuts sitting on Kyoko’s dresser. Makoto reached from where he was sitting and wrapped his hand around her own, giving it a momentary squeeze.

“Please get better soon, Kyoko. We need you!” …I need you…

It was then that Kyoko groaned, alerting Makoto and making him drop her hand as he sprang up and leaned over the bed.

“Kyoko?”

Gingerly opening her eyes, the ill detective slowly raised her head off her pillow, her vision coming into focus.

“Ma…Mako…Makoto?”

“Shh! Don’t talk, Kyoko! You need to save your energy.”

Kyoko continued to groan as she started to sweat and utter “Hot…So hot…”

“You’re hot? Don’t worry, Kyoko; I’ll get you a wet towel and you’ll be cooled off in no time!”

Before he could run off, Kyoko grabbed his wrist and shook her head, making Makoto confused.

“Gloves…off…take them off.”

Her gloves are making her hands feel hot? Gulping, Makoto asked “Are you sure, Kyoko?”

Nodding as vigorously as she could, Kyoko gave her consent. Makoto sighed and nervously got to work, removing her gloves off of her hands. Although Kyoko had removed her gloves in front of him in the past, removing them himself while she was still sick made him worry about whether or not this counted as consent. After her scarred hands were exposed, Makoto walked over to the dresser and placed her gloves on it, then soaked the hand towel he had used prior. Before walking over to her, he briefly locked the door to her room so that nobody would accidentally see the well-guarded secret of her exposed hands. Once he sat back down, Makoto gently washed her hands free of sweat with the towel, making Kyoko sigh in comfort.

It wasn’t long though until Kyoko started to squirm under the blankets again as she groaned “Hot…still hot…”

Makoto quickly placed the still-damp towel on her forehead to try and cool her down, but Kyoko shook her head and groaned “Shirt…Skirt…take them off!”

Makoto blushed deep red as he realized Yukizome-san must not have removed them when she examined Kyoko!

Extremely hesitant to be the one to undress her, Makoto’s resistance was broken with one final groan “Take them off…please…”

Sighing in surrender, Makoto slipped his hands under the blankets, trying to feel for the buttons on Kyoko’s shirt.

Do not peek. DO NOT PEEK!

Makoto repeated his silent mantra as he got her shirt unfastened, sliding the fabric down her arms and throwing it next to him. Still as red as a tomato, he slid his hands down her sides until he felt the fabric of her belt. Quickly unlocking it, he quickly slid her lavender business skirt down her lags and quickly threw them in the same pile as the shirt.

Sighing with relief, Makoto looked back to Kyoko’s face, his blush starting to disappear now that she was starting to settle down. However, the sense of calm was short-lived; Kyoko wrapped her hand around his own and started to yank him out of his chair.

“Whoa, Kyoko!”

Kyoko uncharacteristically giggled and slurred “Koto, come to bed, sweetie. It’s all cold and lonely without you!”

Koto? What’s with the nickname? And what’s going on?

Kyoko gave an uncharacteristically loving smile that only creeped Makoto out as she rubbed her cheek on his palm.

“Come on, my darling. Quit being shy and hop in already!”

Feeling her still-burning face, Makoto realized The fever must be making her delirious. She won’t listen to reason, so I’m gonna need to play along with her delusion if I’m gonna get out of this! His face still as red as a tomato, Makoto coughed and began awkwardly “Kyoko…honey…you’re still sick. I need to stay awake so I can keep taking care of you…” Not a total lie; hopefully it’ll be enough to dissuade her.

Kyoko pouted and whined “…It’s not fair! You always work hard, and now you have to take care of my sniffles when you should be getting a good night’s sleep.”

Sighing in frustration, Makoto tried one more line to attempt to get her to stop her delirium-fueled romantic fantasy.

“Sweetie…please just go to sleep. I promise, once you’re better, I’ll sleep by your side as long as you want…” Which will probably be never once you’re back to your senses…

Yawning, Kyoko surrendered, murmuring “You’d better…” before closing her eyes and falling back into slumber. Once he was sure that Kyoko was out like a light, Makoto ran in a panic into Kyoko’s bathroom, violently turning on the faucet and splashing his face with cold water, attempting to make his blushing crimson face go back to normal while trying to process his interaction with Kyoko.

“What…was…that???”

XXX

Kyoko groaned as she opened her eyes, holding her forehead in her palm as she started to sit up, clutching the blanket to her body.

“My…my room? How…”

“Ah, Kyoko!”

Makoto rushed over and sat down in the chair he had been taking up, placing his hand on her cheek. The former Detective blushed before removing her hand from her forehead to look at Makoto. She frowned to see his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags under them.

Did he…pull an all-nighter? But what…

“Well, you don’t feel hot. Hopefully your fever broke while you were sleeping.”

Feeling especially confused, Kyoko asked “Makoto, what happened? I remember sitting in our status meeting, but everything after that’s a blur. So how did we end up in my room?”

Feeling his whirlwind of emotions from the other day rise back up, Makoto started to explain “You collapsed during our meeting. I caught you and tried to shake you awake, bur…but you wouldn’t wake up. We got Yukizome-san to help, and after examining you…told us that you had been working yourself to death, Kyoko. You were pulling so many all-nighters; your muscles were sore and your eyes were bloodshot. Not to mention your fever and congestion! So then I…I volunteered to …to take care of you while you recovered. I…” Makoto started to cry as he continued “I was so scared, Kyoko! I thought I wasn’t ever going to see you again!” He then demanded “Why didn’t you tell me you had so much on your plate? I would’ve…I would’ve helped you, Kyoko. I would’ve taken on some of your paperwork or…or SOMETHING so that you could actually get a good night’s sleep!”

Kyoko looked up at Makoto’s tearful face, shellshocked at how much her overworking had terrified the boy.

Looking away from him, Kyoko murmured “Makoto…I…apologize for worrying you. If it makes you feel better, I promise once I recover to teach you how to fill out some of the more monotonous paperwork.”

Beaming at Kyoko’s concession, Makoto wiped his eyes of tears. Kyoko smiled, then let her gaze wander until she spotted her pile of clothes on the ground next to Makoto’s feet.

Wasn’t that the business suit I wore yesterday? If that’s on the floor, then…

Kyoko discreetly palmed her body underneath the blankets to feel only the texture of her lacy black bra and panties against her smooth skin.

“…Makoto…why am I only wearing my underwear under these blankets?”

Makoto blushed before hanging his head and explaining frantically “You…when you first woke up last night, you kept complaining that it was too hot, and you…you asked me to…disrobe you…I think your fever might have made you delirious…I’m sorry…But I promise you, I never took a peek, and I never touched you anywhere inappropriate!”

As Kyoko saw the tears fall from Makoto’s hung head, she knew he was telling the truth. The peeping incident at Hope’s Peak notwithstanding, she knew that Makoto wasn’t the type to violate the privacy of his friends. Not to mention that she had heard the honest passion in his voice when he explained how ill she had become and the fact that he had tended to her every need.

Suddenly, all of the memories of her delirium came flooding back to her, making her blush at just how brazen and out-of-character she had acted.

“…I’m not mad at you, Makoto.”

Gasping, Makoto looked at her incredulously and confirmed “You’re not? But I…”

Kyoko shook her head and continued “I clearly wasn’t myself, and technically I did ask you to do those things. I can’t hold it against you for acting in your capacity as my caretaker.”

Beaming, Makoto wiped his eyes, before glancing over to the dresser and informed her “I put your gloves over on the dresser during your delirium. Would you like me to get them for you?”

Rather than answer him with words, Kyoko decided to move her legs off the bed, getting up as she strolled over to her dresser and slipped on her gloves. Makoto yelped and covered his eyes with his palms, his face blushing again.

Smirking teasingly, Kyoko asked “Makoto, you’ve seen me in nothing but a towel. You’re really gonna blush over seeing me in my bra and panties?”

Gulping Makoto yelped “I wasn’t thinking straight back then. Besides, I never said I didn’t blush when I saw you back then…”

Chuckling, Kyoko rolled her eyes and pulled out a nightgown, slipping it over her head before announcing “There, I’m decent. Happy?”

Peeking from behind his hands, Makoto sighed in relief, lowering his hands from his face. Both were content to smile at the other, enjoying the peace after the storm. However, their moment was interrupted by the growl of Kyoko’s stomach.

She blushed in embarrassment before admitting “…I guess it’s been a while since I had something to eat…”

Smiling, Makoto started to walk behind her and gently nudge her in the direction of the bed.

“I’ll go make you some nice hot soup. Just get back in bed and relax, alright? I’ll be back in a jiff, promise!”

Shaking her head in amusement, Kyoko acquiesced “Alright, Makoto. Since I’ve been ill for the past day, I’ll let you pamper me this once.”

“Awesome! Be right back!”

As the door closed gently behind him, Kyoko laid back and nestled into her pillow, taking the opportunity to nap while reflecting on her recent coming on to Makoto, and the possible implications it had towards her own feelings for the boy.

“Do I…really …want Makoto…like that?”

XXX

“Kyoko! Soup’s ready!”

Kyoko sat up, leaning against the wall that her bed was up against as she took in the sight that made her mouth twitch in an urge to giggle. Makoto was precariously carrying a bowl of steaming hot soup, all the while garbed in a stereotypical chef’s hat and white apron. As Makoto placed the bowl and spoon into her waiting hands, the aroma reached her nose, the sensational overload of the food causing her to involuntarily sigh in pleasure.

“Smells delicious!”

Smiling, Makoto replied “Thanks; it’s a Naegi family recipe.” Scratching his cheek, he explained “My mom made it for me and Komaru whenever we were sick, and when I was old enough to cook, she taught me how to make it for Komaru. I just hope I cooked it as well as mom did…”

Given how just smelling it elicited a reaction from me, I’d say you succeeded…

Kyoko took a spoonful of the yellow broth and slid it into her mouth, letting it run over her tongue and down her throat. Her eyes widened after sensing the taste, its flavor overcoming her as she started to shovel spoonfuls of broth, ramen noodles, chicken, and vegetables into her mouth in reckless abandon, unwilling to spend a single second without the taste of “Naegi Soup” covering her taste buds.

Makoto sweatdropped, chuckling as he remarked “…Yeah, that’s pretty much how Komaru and I were as kids whenever we got to taste mom’s soup.”

In no time at all, the bowl was completely empty, drained of all its contents by its recipient. Passing the bowl back to Makoto, Kyoko sighed and patted her belly contentedly.

“That was the greatest meal I’ve ever tasted. You’ve obviously inherited your mother’s talent for cooking.”

Blushing slightly at the praise, Makoto smiled back at her, happy that his attempt to recreate his mom’s signature recipe was so successful. Kyoko smiled back at him but frowned noticing his bloodshot eyes.

“Makoto…why don’t you go get some rest in your own bed? You’re obviously exhausted, and you took care of me so diligently all night. Besides, I don’t think I’m sick anymore, so you don’t have to continue being sleep-deprived for my sake.”

Despite his fatigue, Makoto shook his head in denial of Kyoko’s request.

“Kyoko…you’re only just on the mend, and we don’t know if you might have a relapse. Besides, I promised when I volunteered for this that I wouldn’t abandon you. So please…let me stay and look after you…just for one more night so we can definitively say that you’re in the clear!”

Blushing, Kyoko flashed back to their time at Hope’s Peak between Mondo and Celeste’s executions, when Makoto stubbornly insisted on being her friend and letting him help her in her investigations.

That stubborn determination broke down my walls, so there’s no way I can say no when he’s this focused… Sighing in surrender, Kyoko ruefully smiled and acquiesced “Alright, you can stay for one more night. But after I resume my duties in the 14th Division, I’m ordering you as my employee to take a 24-hour sabbatical, during which you will spend the entire day sleeping in your own bed. After all, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill from fatigue and force me to return the favor.”

Makoto nodded in acceptance of Kyoko’s compromise, making Kyoko happy that he agreed to take it easy and recover from the burden of caring for her. The two spent the rest of the day chatting, even deciding to share in Hina’s “Get Well” Donuts that she had dropped off the other day.

They’re good, but they don’t hold a candle to Naegi Soup…

Regardless, she made a mental note to thank Hina later for the treat once she had recovered. As time flew by and it became time for bed, she found herself easily falling into slumber under Makoto’s watchful and protective gaze. Makoto smiled, unable to resist thinking that she looked cute while sleeping. It was then that he reached for her hand that was hanging off of the side of the bed, threading his fingers with her own and squeezing her hand. He felt a reflexive squeeze in return and smiled after seeing Kyoko’s lips unconsciously twitch upwards in a peaceful smile. Her falling ill terrified him to be sure, but he was grateful that it ended up strengthening the bond between them.

…I really am lucky, aren’t I?

#Fanfic #submission #naegiri2019 #day 1

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bgn846 · 4 years

Text

The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 11

The last thing any of them expected was Noct’s sheepish reaction at being told the news of Luna’s departure. Gladio had assumed the prince would yell and demand they go after her. Instead, Noct didn’t utter a word. He stayed glued to his seat and stared at the floor. Shit, they’d missed something in translation here; Noct should have been railing to rally the troops.

After several long minutes of terrible silence, Ignis took a guess as to what was going on. “Highness, did you help them leave?” he asked with a knowing look. Leave it to Ignis to crack the case. The look on Noct’s face spoke volumes, he still refused to make eye contact, but it was clear he’d done just as Ignis had suggested.

Groaning in frustration, Gladio wished they’d waited to have their ‘planning meeting’ so it would have included Iggy. They’d wasted time trying to think ahead only to be thrown right back to square one. “Noct, where are they going?”

This time the prince had something to say, “I dunno,” he spat out. “Away from here and away from the empire, that’s all I know.”

The next hour was fraught with emotion as they all tried to figure out where Luna and Ravus had gone. It became obvious that Noct was telling the truth, he didn’t know and didn’t want to. Gladio supposed Noct’s reasoning had been if he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell no matter how hard he was questioned. Stepping out of the room for a moment Gladio tried to clear his head. If they were seeking safety from the empire, where would they go? No place came to mind. In an act of sheer frustration, he pulled out his phone and texted Ravus.

Gladiolus Amicitia 7:39pm: I’ll never forgive myself if you or Luna dies. You got me involved and now you think you can just run away. That’s a shitty move.”

Without re-reading his message Gladio hit send in a fit of rage. He was angry at having missed the signs last night and again, not being able to do a damn thing to help. Why was he constantly being thrust into situations where he had no control over anything? What kind of special punishment was this?

“Gladio, is everything alright?” A voice asked from behind.

Turning revealed Ignis standing just outside the doorway to the meeting room with a concerned look. “I’m just pissed, we can’t seem to catch a break,” he growled.

“Perhaps if we regrouped and --.”

“We’ve regrouped already, and it didn’t help, Iggy. Noct isn’t even on our side, which is screwed up when you think about it.”

“Now, now, there is no need to question Noct’s part in this, he was only doing what he felt was right.”

“Helping them leave? How is that a good thing, how does that help? They could get captured by the empire and be killed!” Gladio exclaimed. He could feel his blood pumping faster just thinking about that scenario. “They tried to turn me into a daemon, what do you think they’ll do to them if they get caught?”

“Love, calm down, I know you’re frustrated but this isn’t going to solve matters,” Ignis tried as he walked closer.

“Nothing I’ve done has helped!” he bellowed. “I got captured like an idiot and set off a chain of events that has resulted in this clusterfuck. Gods, why the hell am I so freaking useless?!” After the words left his mouth Gladio shut down. He didn’t want to talk anymore, there was nothing else left to do. Stepping back and away from Ignis he shook his head, enough was enough.

Without any further explanation he turned and left, he needed to escape this nightmare. Ignis called after him but he ignored it. Everyone else had been allowed to run from their problems, now it was his turn.

However, his defiant streak didn’t last long. In the time it took Gladio to walk outside, to a quiet corner of the gardens, the guilt at having behaved like a child caught up to him. Today sucked so badly, he should’ve stayed home. Sighing in defeat at his own foolishness Gladio dug out his phone. He could at least call Ignis and apologize for leaving.

Ignis answered but didn’t immediately talk to him, “Yes, it’s Gladio, hold on one moment.” He uttered before his voice got louder. “Please tell me you’ve not skipped town as well.” Ignis chided.

“No, sorry, I’m acting like an asshole.” Gladio supplied before slipping into silence once more.

“We are all stressed, might you be willing to come back so we can continue?”

“I can’t, I – I need some time. It’s not like we can do anything else about Luna and Ravus. They’re gone.”

Ignis was silent for a beat, “You make it sound as if they are already dead.”

“They might as well be! We can’t protect them now.” Gladio sputtered.

“You don’t know that.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.” Humming thoughtfully in response Ignis took a deep breath but remained quiet. Gladio could tell he was stressing the advisor out. “Sorry, I know you don’t need me actin’ like a fool on top of everything else right now.”

“As I said before, we are all stressed. Perhaps, I could come to sit with you?”

“I think I’d be shitty company, but I’m in our spot in the gardens.”

“Very good, I’ll be there shortly,” Ignis said before hanging up.

Left again with his own destructive thoughts, Gladio couldn’t help but worry about Luna and Ravus. After everything they’d been through, he owed it to them to secure their wellbeing.

Plopping down on the grass Gladio leaned forward cradling his head in his hands. He had to calm down and think. Being a big mope wasn’t going to solve anything. A buzzing noise caught his attention a second later, thinking it was Ignis calling Gladio pulled his phone out. The caller id was blocked. A small part of his brain desperately hoped it was either Ravus or Luna but he knew that was too good to be true.

Answering the call quickly Gladio almost fumbled the phone out of his shaking fingers and into the grass. “Hello?”

“Are you always in the habit of sending rude text messages?” Ravus clipped voice asked.

“Are you two alright?!” Gladio blurted. He knew Ravus wouldn’t tell him shit so he could at least make sure they were safe.

“Same as we were last night.”

“Thank the six,” he breathed.

“What? That’s it, you send me a nasty text and then thank the astrals we’re not in ill health?” Ravus questioned gruffly.

“Like I could say anything that would make you come back,” Gladio scoffed. “I may miss some things Ravus, but not I’m not that stupid.”

“To my knowledge you’ve not missed anything Gladiolus.”

“Damn, full name status. Guess us Lucians screwed up real bad this time.”

“Stop acting like a child,” Ravus huffed. “I’m traveling with one already,” he added in a hushed tone.

“Sorry, I shoulda tried to talk to her but I thought I had more time,” Gladio lamented.

“It’s not your job to help my sister understand my viewpoint on things. I’m not sure she’d ever believe you anyway.”

“I’m pissed at Noct cause of you,” Gladio threw in for good measure.

“Oh don’t blame me for that one; my lovely sister handled our escape.”

“Seriously?! You were okay staying?”

“I can’t say I especially liked it, but I do feel like it was a safer choice.”

Gladio was about to respond when he heard Luna shouting in the background. Well, it was more like whining but she still wasn’t happy. “Did I just get you in trouble?”

“Nonsense, I’ve always been in trouble. Don’t worry yourself about that one.”

“We’re both a right pair of idiots, aren’t we?” Gladio sighed.

“Now, I’m not following you, why are you an idiot?” Ravus questioned.

“I’ve screwed everything up since day one, I got captured, turned the empire against you, lost the oracle, should I continue?”

Ravus took a deep breath over the phone and cleared his throat before replying. “Gladiolus, you got captured because you saved your prince. The empire turned against me because I made the choice to leave them,” he paused and sighed heavily. “Luna does what she wants, so please don’t think that us leaving is any reflection on you.”

Luna, again, made a noise in the background, but this time she came close enough to be heard clearly. “What does he think?” she asked with concern.

“He feels responsible for you running away,” Ravus explained calmly.

“No, no, no, that’s not true at all, give me the phone.” After a brief pause, Luna’s voice was crystal clear. “Gladio, you can’t think any of this is your fault. I needed to get away to protect you all.”

That wasn’t what Gladio was expecting to hear. “What do you mean protect us? We’re supposed to be watching over you.”

“No, there’s more to this than just the armies and the emperor. There is another evil at play that we’ve not accounted for.”

Distracted for a moment when Ignis suddenly appeared by his side Gladio motioned for the man to sit as he pointed to his phone. Pulling Ignis close cued him in that Gladio wanted him to listen as well. Nervous to put the phone on speaker in case it spooked Luna, Gladio continued. “What do you mean another evil? That sounds ominous.”

“It is, I’m afraid Niflheim has discovered an ancient power.”

“What? We need to research this so we can figure out how to beat it.”

“No, you don’t understand Gladio, it’s not what it’s a who.” Luna corrected.

“One man can’t be that difficult to beat, who is it?” Gladio asked nervously.

“I have reason to believe Niflheim has discovered adagium.”

Gladio had no idea what Luna was talking about, but Ignis flinched and had gone pale. “Luna, this doesn’t sound good at all, please come back so we come up with a plan of attack.”

“Trust me, this is the best way.”

“Luna I don’t thin--.” Gladio’s words died into thin air as the phone line disconnected. “Luna! No!” he shouted. Dammit, why was he always left trying to pick up the pieces? “Who the hell is adagium?!” he demanded reaching out and grabbing Ignis’ arm.

Ignis still looked rattled and was trying to come up with something to say. “I believe we may need to speak with the king. What little I do know has never been told to me directly.”

That confused Gladio even more. “Come on, let’s get Noct as well.”

“Aren’t you still mad at him?”

“Yeah I’m pissed but we got a lead, this is more than we’ve had since I got back. We need to figure out who this dude is and see if we can find Luna.”

Gladio wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anymore. How the heck had this been forgotten? A crazy man had stormed Insomnia nearly twenty years ago and no one knew?! The ensuing calamity and minor destruction had ended up in the history books, but it’d simply been attributed to Ifrit going rogue. The truth behind the tale was shocking and hard to believe.

However, the thing that was even harder to swallow was the reason why the king had lied about the attack in the first place. Gladio felt like his world was falling apart. He wasn’t mad at Noct anymore, far from it. He wished he could take away his friend's pain, but there was nothing he could do. Noct had a prophecy to fulfill, a fairly grim one from what Gladio could gather.

Though, Gladio still didn’t know the details, as he’d been asked to leave along with everyone else so Regis could talk with his son. Remembering his father’s adamant declaration that Regis wouldn’t be happy to send Noct out of the city again, Gladio wondered if that was why. No wonder he’d gotten so upset earlier.

Now, as he sat outside the king’s office waiting for any kind of update Gladio felt truly lost. Things had gotten so out of hand. The sound of footsteps approached caused him to look up. Aranea and Loqi were coming and they didn’t look happy.

“We heard something bad had happened, how can we help?” Aranea announced as they came to a halt in front Clarus.

“I’m not sure what you could do at this point. The prince is with his father at the moment and I’m not going to interrupt that meeting.” Clarus supplied.

“What about Ravus and Luna? Can we go get them? I’ve got my drop ship at the ready.” Aranea offered.

“I’m afraid you’d be wasting gas, we’ve no idea where they headed off to.”

“I put a tracker in Ravus’ sword, I can find him.” Aranea supplied like it was nothing.

“When did you do that?!” Gladio growled before his father could respond.

“Ages ago, when I didn’t know where his loyalties lied.”

“And you think he’s not discovered it yet?” Clarus asked in disbelief.

“He’s smart but I’m smarter, so I’ll ask again. Do you want me to go get him?”

“Yes!” Gladio blurted, “They’re not safe and Luna’s rambling about evil people and Noct’s--,” Gladio trailed off not willing to say anything more. The news that his friend and prince had to die to save them all was not an easy pill to swallow. There had to be something they could do to stop all of this.

Aranea looked a little shocked at the outburst but remained silent. It seemed she was looking between Clarus and him waiting for a more direct answer.

“I can’t stop you should you decide to go look for them,” Clarus added a second later.

“You can’t stop me taking Loqi with me either, can you?”

Clarus simply shook his head, but he didn’t look the least bit angry about it.

“I’m going with you!” Gladio huffed as he stood quickly. “I can’t let you two go out there alone without backup.”

“Who are we keeping an eye out for?” Loqi asked with concern.

“From what I’ve gathered, it’s a man named Ardyn Izunia or Ardyn Lucis Caelum.” Clarus announced somberly.

“I knew that idiot was bad news!” Aranea angrily spit out. “He always gave me the creeps.”

“Ardyn is the bad guy?” Loqi scoffed. “He’s just one of the emperor's puppets from what I could tell.”

“I think you may have that backward sweetie. Remember, no one ever knew where he came from. Plus, the fact that he hung out with Versteal so much was always a red flag. We gotta get a move on if he’s involved.”

Gladio moved to follow Aranea and Clarus held out his hand. “Whoa there, aren’t you forgetting your duties?”

“Rescuing me got Luna caught up in all this, I need to see this through.”

“You have an oath to uphold to Noctis if I’m not mistaken.”

“If I don’t help put a stop to this now, Noct won’t be alive for me protect, dad,” Gladio replied sadly. That comment seemed to halt Clarus in his tracks. He waivered and lowered his hand after taking a long breath.

“I need more time to think on this.”

“I’m leaving in thirty minutes, whoever shows up gets to come along,” Aranea announced before walking away with Loqi by her side.

“Dad, I have to help. If we can bring Luna and Ravus back we can talk more about how to beat this Ardyn guy.” Clarus barely imperceptible head nod was all Gladio needed to see to know he’d succeeded.

“I’ll keep watch over the king and Noctis. I have a feeling Regis isn’t going to want to part ways with his son anytime soon.”

“I’ll let you know when we’ve found them and are on our way back.” Gladio sighed in relief, thankful that he’d been given the go-ahead to proceed. Turning to his boyfriend Gladio tried to think of what he could say. He’d only just come back and now he was leaving again. “Iggy – I –I.”

“You two can talk more on the ride in the dropship.” Clarus cut in as he began to herd them down the hall together.

“What?”

“I’m not letting you go out there alone!” Clarus all but yelled. “Ignis do what you can and I expect a full report when you get back.” His father pulled him into a tight embrace. When they pulled apart Gladio was greeted with a watery smile. “I have faith you in son.” He added before turning to go back into Regis’ office.

“I need to grab some things from the training room,” Ignis cut in quietly. “We’d best hurry.”

“Yeah, for sure, uh--,” Gladio stalled out not knowing what else to say. Ignis reassuring grip on his arm was the only thing that got him moving a second later. They had a mission to do. Find Ravus and Luna and bring them back.

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#ffxv #fanfic #gladio

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pinksweatergettingbetter · 6 years

Text

warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.

Okay folks. this is it. part 1 of the final chapter

here we go.

trial day 2?? oh yeah i forgot they split this game up in the worst, uneven way possible

wow that cutscene was

something alright

wow datz actually managed to hold onto the snow globe. kudos?

what the fuck

i think i heard it wrong but Dhurke’s objection sounds like an old man

I'm pretty sure i heard it wrong

missed the bass

who was that no– oh Garananana

i guess she's gonna be the final boss instead huh

im so tired i cant even snark properly

“is that kosher?”

i like it

oh god

what.... what is she wearing

i mean

fuckin

TALK about madonna-whore complex. oh yeah, time to turn super evil?? bear your midriff! show off dem tiddies!

look, SOJ. theres only one bad bitch in ace attorney who can pull off floaty tendril hair, and its NOT ga’ran.

i cant believe i have to look at this train wreck for the rest of the trial

“heh heh heh. its all coming back now. the feel of my blood pumping through my veins”

this is perhaps because youre actually moving now, your eminence.

can we just dispense with the trial and have a good old fashioned anime fight? cmon apollo, spike up that hair and grab your BFS.

“meep”

WHATS WITH THE MEEPING

BONNY DID THAT TOO

SOJ ITS 2016 ...ACTUALLY ITS 2028 YOU HOLES

everyone in the court: :O what??? whats wrong with rayfa??? why is she sad???

oh i dunno maybe because her fucking Father just got brutally murdered?? maybe??

what the fuck is up with SOJ characters being dumb as a bag of bricks when it comes to other peoples’ feelings regarding death of loved ones???

phoenix: shits fucked, thats why?? apollo: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“seems like she's worse off today than she was yesterday”

hey game you'd better not be implying any shit

“discipline”

soj

alright, back after another longass break. i can do this.

( That’s oddly compassionate of him, all things considered )

I was about to defend Nahyuta because what kind of person wouldn’t try to spare a child from witnessing that kind of trauma... but then again, this is the Sadmad who purposefully tried to trigger someone into losing a trial so

(shrug emoji)

grana’s gone into full HORHORHOR BITCH MODE

partially I'm totally numb because i dont have any stakes in her newfound ebilness, and partially I'm tired of this weird new trend of child abuse in the new games

“Barbed head.”

oh my god

the first person she goes to after realizing that her caretaker is gone is fucking Phoenix

im gonna cry

“ive been reduced to “royal robe remover”” NO NICK YOU’VE BEEN UPGRADED TO DAD BY SOMEONE WHO’S NOT YOU

( ‘It’s like she’s grooming Mr. Wright to be Nayna’s replacement’)

I know this game is all about confusing bullshit for heartwarming moments and vice versa but guys

good lord

my heart

i really needed that

(sigh) they really couldn’t get someone who sounded like a fucking 14 year old to do her voice?? really???

rayfa: (looks like she's going to die and collapses)

apollo: this is not good...

gee apollo you really think so?

wait a fuking second

we went through the whole dance cutscene and we’re not even going to see the pool??? does that mean the priestess has to be conscious and present for the images to be visible? ...and how does that work, anyway?

i just realized, a medium could use a pool to see the dead, but how the hell could they project it for others to see?? does she literally open a portal to hell???

(sigh) i just regret sitting through that cutscene again

“cabal of traitorous lawyers”

i love that

(Seriously Dhurke? This is no laughing matter.)

this basically sums up Dhurke’s entire personality

...yknow, i know what they were trying to do with his character– i really do. i know he’s supposed to come off as a dashing, cavalier rebel who laughs in the face of danger.

but they overshot endearingly irreverent and ploughed straight into fuckwaddome. if you want a character to be charming, they need softer moments too. Dhurke isn’t a bad person, but he’s kind of an asshole when you get right down to it, and nothing so far is proving otherwise.

ok ive heard Dhurke’s Objection again and it doesn't sound like an old man– it just sounds about as overblown and ridiculous as Manfred von Karma’s (not to mention about as deep)

LET DHURKE SAY BITCH

... i guess

another perfect example of Dhurke being kind of a fuckwad: he keeps needling the queen and baiting her in ways that could get himself killed, which would be all fine and dandy if he were the brave resistance leader being tortured for information in the bowels of a dungeon.

...but here’s the thing.

IF YOU DIE, DHURKE, APOLLO AND PHOENIX DIE TOO. DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THE GODDAMN DC ACT? ITS NOT JUST YOUR DEAD ASS ON THE LINE HERE SO SHUT YOUR SASSY TRAP AND THINK ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN YOUR *AMAZING WIT* FOR ONCE.

you’ve got 2 extra lives on the line here.

...3 if my suspicions are correct.

stop calling him son please you abandoned him in an orphanage and didnt contact him for 14 years.

...and if he can’t call you ‘dad’ you have no right to call him ‘son’

coming back to this after ghost trick has convinced me that one of ga’ran’s lackeys miiiiiight be related to Cabanela, baby

“Wright... I can see we are kindred spirits, you and I! Hah-ha ha ha ha ha!!”

FUCK YOU DHURKE

“It’s pretty easy to spot the difference between a soulless man and the soulless shell of a man”

ok that did get a laugh out of me, good job dhurke.

apollo: pls dont get us killed dhurke: mmmm ok ill try but I'm not promising anything lol

://///

“But remember, son, if you truly believe in me, you should be able to prove my innocence.”

do i even have to list how many reasons thats wrong and a shitty thing to say

“Such Insolence”

You’ve been beat out, Not So Fast

Ga’ran used Gust!

Apollo flinched and couldn’t move!

“I could behead you at any time”

she's got a point; she’s a fucking despot, there’s no reason to actually hold a trial. i mean i guess she wants to shut up the rebels but just killing them would be a lot easier and its not like she has any qualms about murder

“Aw shoot, ya got me.”

again, not an appropriate reaction for whats going on buddy

lol get fucked kjudge

DGFUFUS OH COOL

WE GOT GUILTY (excited cheers from the audience)

the applause and the shots of everyone with :O faces is making me feel like i just won a gameshow

wheres my cheesy jingle

also i love how Dhurke’s like “oh shit!! my assholishness has directly resulted in my son’s death!!! did NOT see that coming!!!!!!!!!”

again the sound mixing is drowning out the background music (sigh)

“your benevolence? I’d be happy to lend an ear if you’d like to talk!”

>this is it, this is why he leaves the series guys. Apollo is too good for these sinful games.

DAMNIT DHURKE, YOUR SHIT MOUTH IS RUBBING OFF ON YOUR SON

hmm

we’ve got an april may here

“Rayfa, I shall buy you a new servant”

so Kooraheen practices slavery..? I mean, she.... she said ‘buy’, not hire.

“she would have left shoeprints”

do you know what evaporation is your malevolence

wait wait wait

that doesn't make any sense

the only prints leading out are from Inga, but the prints inside the building are from Nayna? how did she avoid leaving prints leading inside, then?? did she just long-jump over the dirt path???

the guards are not fanboying, apollo, they’re toadying. there’s a difference.

apollo: maybe the place he was stabbed and the place he died were different��

(the game only continues after you carefully explain what dying of blood loss is three years later)

to be completely fair, there are actually stories of people who were unaware of being stabbed

furthermore, when you get stabbed, you’re not going to be the most rational human being on earth.

phoenix, don’t give sadmad that point, especially when he’s currently assaulting your protege

now, as i was saying, Apollo’s suggestion that Inga was stabbed in the back and then ran into the temple is perfectly plausible; running to shelter from an attacker is probably the first thing you’d want to do when injured, and the tomb was a pretty safe place, i’d wager.

tbh i really don’t know why they’re arguing about him feeling the pain as that wouldn’t really impair his movement considering he was stabbed in a place that wouldn’t affect his ability to walk???

but yeah apparently he was doped up to shit so

...i highly doubt back pain medication is strong enough to negate a stab wound. on the other hand, if it is and your back pain is THAT intense, Inga, you need to see a fucking doctor pronto.

...yeah shots straight into the spine is one step away from surgery; not to be an asshole but I'm not sure Inga was doing so well anyway before he went

huh. are they really gonna give us an actual choosable choice to abandon Dhurke and save our own skin? Cause that would be interesting; a lot like the old games where you could “”choose”” to defend a client or not.

to be clear here, though, i wouldn't choose “no” even as much as i dislike dhurke. we know (sigh) that he’s innocent, and even if i dont like him it’s our duty to defend his shitty ass

OH HOLY FUCK

THERES THE CHOICE

wow. y’know SOJ, i dont much like you, but you fuckin Did That. well done.

also thank you for the Justice pun it is much appreciated.

“And while I can’t say I’m used to it, this isn’t exactly my first rodeo”

FWHAT

>game flashes back to the Ahlbi case

DSKJFLS THIS IS LITERALLY THE “at second rodeo: this isn't my first rodeo” POST

YES OK WE’VE SEEN THIS CUTSCENE TWICE NOW ALREADY

WE GET IT, RAYFAS GOT COLD FEET ABOUT BEING QUEEN

MAYAS IN THE GAME

phoenix: allow me to mansplain how rayfa is feeling despite how fucking obvious it is. after all, we know our players have the mental and emotional capacity of goldfish!

oh hey mansplain is a legit word in the dictionary

cool!

why are they building this up?? just fucking tell Rayfa to do her stupid dance again and get on with it; we already did this at the beginning of the trial

“Hmm... Indeed. It would be problematic.”

ohohoooohohohhhihgjhgo

oh her nails are actually tiny pen

thats neat

thank goodness Kooraheeneese is an up-and-down written language– otherwise they’d have to make a whole new animation for the english game teehee

“....................But... Horn Head needs my help”

oh my heart

dan she just straight up begone’d her

see the one thing that falls flat here is that, during a regular trial, the prosecution saying “oh, ok, have it your way; you can try to prove your theory” holds up a little more since they... you know. don’t have absolute power.

where as, with Garananana, its more like she's just a huge posturing pushover. especially since every other minute she's saying “ok, I'm gonna kill you for REAL now.”

rayfa: b but if i fail you'll be killed!!! i dont get it...

apollo: i literally just finished explaining that I'm 100% ready to die for my shitty job that was like 5 minutes ago

it is sweet to see that he’s cheering her on though. good big bro

I'm finding small solace in this beautiful moment of “your foreign dad and bro are here for you babe reach for the stars”

Athena’s probably flashing a double thumbs up from the gallery too

“But... I finally know now. I know in what I can trust”

Bobby, from the afterlife: YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE

Garan: What??? my tiny 14 year old daughter is going to do a thing i don’t want her to??? fuck there’s no way i can shut her up. not even with all of my large adult man guards who could easily just escort her out of the courtroom without any resistance because they’re my fucking royal guards and I'm the Queen

oh shit she took off her own cape

im so glad i muted the game so her awful voice actress couldn’t ruin this cool moment

and now as this long ass cutscene plays out again, i simply cannot help but wonder about the poor choir and how long they’ve been on standby

where do they keep the choir during trials

whats it like singing the dance of devotion song every trial

oh finally here we go. alright, lets see what the magic party pool has in store for us this time

...o ...ok then

OH! OH SHIT

Inga’s face blind?!

Y’know I did have a few thoughts about that when we discovered his notebook but I didn’t think they’d actually go that route... though, thinking about it now, it is pretty convenient.

...ok everyone’s freaking out. maybe they’ve never heard of face-blindness? ...or maybe its not face blindness after all

im pretty sure it is though

i dont know why but everyone being like FUCK ITS GOD and phoenix being like “whoops shits trippy now” made me laugh pretty hard

ok i gotta say I'm actually a little invested now, even if its just because i think face-blindness is an interesting thing to incorporate into a murder case. again, a convenient thing, but an interesting thing all the same.

ahh fuck i keep forgetting how the stupid seance works

welp, there goes one of my souls... (sigh)

..apollo you dont need to show her the picture of her dead father to say “he had a cell phone”.

the voice was coming from INSIDE THE PHONE

RAYFA HAS A PET FROG????

WHAT

SHOW US THE FROG SOJ

SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG!

...why would Rayfa interpret the sound of the warbaa’d (something she’s familiar with) with a lion’s roar (something she’s unfamiliar with) ??

oh i see thats why Vore Machine is an idiot

for plot convenience

Datz Are’bal, a man who throws fire crackers at children.

...sounds like an are’bal guy.

bahdum-tshh

“The joker who got a kick out of startling Ahlbi with his Dragon Snot Snaps”

...something tells me that if Datz found out about Youtube, he’d be one of those “””prank””” channels.

also WHY ARE THEY CALLED SNOT SNAPS

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

“happy-go-lucky”

i think you mean vaguely sociopathic

(sigh) ive finally been worn down to the point where i need a walkthrough. ive... been beaten...

boy ahlbi’s just a font of knowledge isn't he

DID SHE JUST BREAK HER NAILS OFF

PLEASE SAY THOSE WERE STICK ONS

HOL SHIT

MMMM LAY IT ON ME NICK

face blindness

... i mean theyre not calling it that but thats what it is

yeah yeah channeling blah blah come on! youre in the LAND of channeling !

shduhjahdjk

I'm picturing Inga running into his own dead body and flipping his shit

oh man. thats the end of Trail 2 part 1.

guess i’ll see you guys on the other side... heheh.

#soj spoilers #sulking over SOJ #ooc #its a LONG one]

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heartsofstrangers · 4 years

Photo

What has been one of the most challenging things you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“One of the most challenging things that I’ve ever experienced was the death of my parents. I lost my dad when I was twenty-one. He wasn’t always in my daily life, so it didn’t hit me as hard, but he was an admirable person I would have liked to have gotten to know. He was in the Vietnam War, had a few Purple Hearts, met the president, and was one of their first-class snipers, but due to that, he had mental issues by the time I grew up. He had severe PTSD and dementia in his later life. My life was more like visitation with him and my sister, Sarah. As I got older and started realizing how to understand mental illness, when I was in high school, I visited him at the nursing home where he was. It was kind of expected after a while. Just watching the mind deteriorate through dementia was pretty hard. When he passed, what hurt most was wishing I got to know him more and wishing he knew the person I would become.

“It’s going to be a year now, I was twenty-three years old, in August, my mom passed away. She was the most loving, happy, social female I’ve ever known, but she struggled with alcoholism in the closet (I would say). She wouldn’t really show it much, but if you knew, you knew. I think she just had too much love to give and that made her really sad, and she always said that her soulmate was my father. Although they never really worked out, they still had a strong relationship, and all of her relationships since him never really panned out. They were like the Bonnie and Clyde of their era. He was African American and she was white, so they hid their relationship from their parents growing up, and dealt with all the race issues in the community by raising my sister and me. One story I remember my mom told me was when she woke up and the lawn was on fire in North Haven because the neighbors didn’t like that they were together. Crazy things like that. I think my dad’s dead really affected my mom.

“Now that they’re both not here, I think my challenge is being the person that I want to be without parental guidance underneath me, telling me ‘keep going, you got it, keep pushing, you’re meant to be something great,’ all those things your parents tell you. You can hear it from your boyfriend or your best friend, but it’s not the same. So I think that’s the challenge I’m forever going to cope with, to be where I feel like I need to be, but not have that support underneath you.”

How did you lose your mother?

“It was kind of a freak accident. There are many things that went wrong that could have gone right. She actually—spooky, she was here. She was in a fight with her current boyfriend and she didn’t want to have an argument or confrontation at my grandmother’s house. So she walked and met him here. I guess they had been drinking; she had alcohol in her system. Her car was broken, so she was borrowing my uncle’s truck in which the gas gage was broken, so in order to know when you needed gas, you needed to know precisely how many miles you had driven since your last gas pump. She left this park and she was driving home on I-91, and the car broke down. She hit the guardrail after losing steering, her phone was dead—my uncle’s truck didn’t have a phone charger—she went to walk across the highway to get off exit 13, and she got hit.

“So many things could have gone right. If she was in her own vehicle, she would have had a phone charger and she probably would have had gas. If she wasn’t fighting with her boyfriend at the time, she wouldn’t have been so upset. I live right off exit 13, so I’m thinking ‘was she trying to get to my house? Where was she going?’ That was a really, really weird day because when she was messaging me about how emotionally upset she was, she was also just diagnosed with cancer. She was telling me how scared she was to go to chemo the next day. She didn’t tell me or my sister that she had cancer for months. I guess she was diagnosed in March, but she had just opened up to the family about it. That day, hours before, she was telling me that she was so scared, praying to God, praying to my dad, and said she felt like she was going to die. It was really interesting foreshadowing that she was casting on her life, like really manifested that.

“The whole day was weird. I’m assuming when she was at the park, I was in the middle of a workout, and I cut my workout short because I was feeling so sick at the gym. I was avidly working out at that time, so it wasn’t anything new. I was hydrated and it was my normal routine, but I was so sick. My friend said, ‘Let’s go for a drive,’ and we went for a drive around Wallingford, but I told her to just bring me home because I didn’t feel good. I texted my mom and told her I loved her and I was here for her. By the time of the sequence of events, she never got the message because I sent it around 10 pm and her passing was about 9:45 pm when the car accident happened. It was just a weird day all in all. To this day, I won’t upgrade my phone because I have our message thread there, and I can’t let go of that in the event that the technology doesn’t work in transferring all of my info.

“That was pretty rough and now I worry, just like with anyone who passes away, that I’ll forget, and not that you’ll forget someone you love. Every day, after her passing, I couldn’t function, I was crying at home, on the way to work, every time I thought about her, when I stalked her Facebook page for the first time. Now, I’m not crying anymore. I can cry, if I’ve had a couple of drinks and my emotions are in my face. You miss the routine so much at first, and then you get used to someone not being there because you’re used to your new routine. It’s just like a breakup, and I think that’s what kind of sucks. I still have my whole life to live, I’m not even thirty years old. How do I begin to tell my kids about the wonderful people that my parents were and really transfer my memories onto them? It’s really difficult.”

You mentioned that you kind of knew that you were losing your father, seeing that coming. Did he end up dying of dementia?

“Yes. He had a few strokes within a short period of time. It was actually his dementia. Then he caught pneumonia. He had a weak system and was hospitalized. They let us know he didn’t have much time, and he refused to have a tube put into his stomach to feed him and whatever he needed. That was what really told us he was going to go soon. So I drove home from college. I was here for a couple of days. We all sat by his bed, played music from the 1960s, and then waited for that call. The call came the next morning at 6 am to go see him because he’s passed. That was sad, but I really had to collect the memories I had of being a child. That one I didn’t take so hard, even when we saw his body. My mom wanted to hold his hand. I don’t know if it’s a disassociation—once someone has passed, I know their soul isn’t there anymore. Our souls are in our bodies just as a host, in my opinion, that’s all it is. I can’t hold your hand, you’re a cold body, but you’re gone.”

It’s just your shell.

“Yeah, that’s all it is. With my mom, they had a closed casket, although the option of an open casket could have been there after they fixed her up at the morgue. I absolutely refused to see her because I thought there was just no point. My sister and I showed up late to the service, maybe twenty to thirty minutes, and gave my uncles and grandmother time to see her and do whatever they had to do. It was interesting because my mom thought she wasn’t loved sometimes, but her service was from 6 to 10 pm, and I was shaking hands from 6 pm to 12 am. They had to start kicking people out and telling people they couldn’t say their good-byes. The funeral home was packed; there were lines out the building, down the street. It was huge. If only she knew. People were telling me crazy stories about elementary school. It was such a shame.”

What was it like growing up with her? I’m assuming you lived with her growing up.

“Yes. When my mom and dad divorced, I was about seven, but I still vividly remember my childhood with them together in comparison to my sister. She doesn’t really remember a lot and she’s older than me, which is interesting. They divorced and then my mom remarried, and that’s when I moved to Wallingford. My stepfather, Bob, is a great person, very reserved, but we grew up with him from when I was in fourth grade until I went to college. We had one room, that’s where my boyfriends would come over with my family, my mom, my stepdad, and my sister. Just the four of us in one house, and it was great. My stepfather was very strict. He’s Russian and the rules were unbelievable. It probably shaped me into how I am with my household rules today. My mom never remarried after she divorced my stepfather, although she had boyfriends. It was always my sister, me, and my mom; it was always the three of us. Regardless of her marrying my stepfather or whatever boyfriends she had dated, if they didn’t like my sister and me, not that they wouldn’t have, we were a package deal. She raised us, telling us ‘it’s the three of us or nothing.’ It was a strong support. She put us through dance school. We were very close. She put us through all the sports we wanted to do. She came to all the family meetings and conferences. Any time she would see somebody in the community, she would say ‘these are my daughters.’ We were always with her. When I went to college, she came up nearly twice a month or would constantly pick me up from Albany, New York, two and a half hours away, just to drive me back down so I could spend the weekend with my boyfriend in Connecticut, and then drive me back and forth to and from Albany on Sunday. I feel so bad now that I look back because she was always going to Albany. She was awesome.

“As I grew older, I was able to open my eyes and see that she was hurting inside and realized she was not the happy person I thought she was when I was a child. It’s really hard, especially when it’s your parent. My uncles would tell me, ‘Shay, she’s always been this way.’ She wasn’t depressed in a way where she would stay in bed all day or find an addiction, it wasn’t really like that. She was really social and smiley, and everyone loved her who met her. Towards her passing, she would cry every day. It was so sad.

“After she divorced my stepfather, that was right when I went to college, in 2012. In 2014, she started dating this new guy, and he was pretty cool. He really loved Kyle, the guy I’m dating now. My mom and her boyfriend got a house together in West Haven, and I lived there for a couple of years. It was another great family dynamic, but then their relationship took a turn for the worse because there were a lot of trust issues. He was pretty promiscuous. There was a lot of devious behavior, manipulation, lies, and no trust. That really broke my mom down, then my father ended up passing through all of this. Not knowing who she could trust and who was there for her was really the butterfly effect for her for her future relationships. She only dated one person after that West Haven relationship, and there was no trust anywhere to be found. She didn’t trust herself, and her self-esteem was down. She would cry every day, and it got to a point where I was life coaching my mom so often. I would be the one to raise her and give her the confidence she needed, because I was in a pretty stable position and she wasn’t. Not that I don’t believe it, but when people say ‘they’re in a better place now, blah, blah, blah,’ I hope she is, because she was pretty upset and miserable at the end of her days. It’s so sad when you see someone so sad. You want to help, but you can’t help them. You want to pick them right up, but everyone has their own demons. It’s rough when your child sees that in a parent. That’s probably why I’m working in mental health.”

It's inspired you in some ways to move towards a career path or life’s purpose.

“Yeah. I think it sparked when I started learning more about my father. I still would like to work with the Department of Veterans Affairs because all of the mental health systems are broken. Even if it comes down to just being that one conversation a day that makes someone smile, put off whatever their plans are for another day, whether it’s harming themselves, suicidal ideation, or one more depressive thought, that’s all I want to be here for. It just comes so effortlessly when you approach people, have a conversation, and share a couple of laughs and smiles. It doesn’t have to be so much pressure, it’s just be you.”

Where do you think your mother’s sadness stemmed from? Do you know anything about her childhood?

“I was predominantly raised on my mother’s side, so I know all about her childhood. She grew up a couple of houses down from this park. She was born in New Haven and, when she was seven, they moved here and then her whole life was here. She has three brothers, my three uncles, who are such strong figures in my life, between helping me with my car or whatever needs to be done. They’re there for my sister and me. Her parents, my grandmother is Italian and my grandfather is Irish. It was an interesting household, but it was a lot of love. I still hear all of the stories about their childhood, and my mom was definitely a daddy’s girl, seeing as she didn’t have any sisters and it was all brothers. My mom and grandfather had a really, really strong connection all through growing up. Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away in 2004, and I think that was really the trigger for my mom. I really think so, because that’s when she married my stepfather in 2004, when I was in fourth grade. She was able to put together this beautiful video. She hired this videographer who put home video clips together and then for their wedding they had a projector come down and played this video for the wedding audience. It was so beautiful because he had passed just months prior. She had even considered moving her wedding date so that he could be there. I really think that was the trigger, because all the years after, she always talked to her dad: ‘Hey, Dad, I’m here; I’m struggling.’ Any pennies she would pick up from the ground she said were pennies from heaven. She really still held him so close. My uncles aren’t as open-minded with spirituality, so they would probably call her crazy, but she had a connection with him; she really did. It’s the people who don’t understand who can pass judgment unless you really understand someone who can open up spiritually, and that was my mom. She wasn’t too spiritual with crystals and all that stuff, but she felt when someone was around. She was really guided by the messages from her high power, like my grandfather, even when my father passed away.”

Tell me about the grieving process that you mentioned, that period when you got the news about your mother and you were crying and had a hard time functioning. What has that journey through grief looked and felt like for you?

“I would mainly always talk to my mom when I was driving to work. She’d be on the way to work, I’d be on the way to work, I’d give her a quick call, and we’d laugh or whatever. Or there were those good morning text messages in the group chat with my sister and me. After she passed, it was really hard to get out of bed and I knew that I had to go to work, and it would be a condition to call or talk to her before I start my day. There have been many times before parking on Edgewood, I would have to fix my make-up because I had been crying on my way to work because she wasn’t there. That slowed down a little and now I can get my thoughts together without being too emotional, but then there’s always something that hits me. It wasn’t up until recently that I was thinking of her and wanted to go on her Facebook and find a picture of her that I had, and I was sitting at work, I was so thankful that I was alone because I could not stop the tears from falling out of my eyes. It was so hard. I had to shut the office door and do my thing because they wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t memories rushing through my head. I couldn’t even scroll. I had to put my phone down, as my emotions were there and demanded to be found, and I had to let it happen.

“It was rough at first getting back into my social life because my mom was a mom to all my friends. She was always there. We have group pictures with my friends and my mom in the middle. If we would go out to a bar or something with my mom and uncles, I would tell all my friends to come. We were always all together, and they loved her. She was the mom they never had. Even growing up in Wallingford with my neighborhood friends, my mom would always be the one to bring out snacks or tell them to come in because it was cold. I’ve had friends for over fifteen years who have known her because I’ve been so close with them. Entering my social life after her passing was hard because mainly if it’s a weekend, I would have a couple of drinks and once the alcohol is in my system, one thought goes through my head, and I would be crying in the kitchen or locking myself in the bathroom. It was always dependent on how much I had to drink, but it was pretty hard putting on a face of being happy and socializing because I felt so empty. Nothing else mattered. But life is for the living, and you have to move on.

“Another really hard part of the grieving process was when we lived in West Haven, we got a puppy. We got two, but one of them was my sister’s. But this one was a Labrador retriever, and we got him as a little baby. I watched him grow into the dog he is now. After she broke up with the boyfriend in West Haven, she kept the dog. When she broke-up with him, she ended up getting an apartment and, whatever she was doing, the dog was by her side, 24/7. She brought him to my grandma’s and she brought him to my house where my dogs would be mad that there was another dog there. She brought him to the gas station. She brought him everywhere. He was this big, white and golden retriever, he might be a Labrador. He was really obedient, such a cuddler, and a very, very, very good dog. He was in the car when she pulled the car over and he watched her get hit by the car. When we got the call, or my uncles got the call or whatever, the police came to the scene, and animal control came and brought him to the pound.

“The next day, my only concern was to get this dog out of the pound. I ended up getting him out of the pound. It was pretty hard for me because my current boyfriend has a dog, and we lived with my sister, Sarah, and she had a dog. Sarah recently moved out. We had two dogs, Sarah and I both worked full-time jobs, and Kyle didn’t want to take in a third dog, especially if Sarah and I were never home. Going through everything I had with my mom, this is within a couple of weeks, my biggest problem was what do I do with this dog because I want to keep the dog. He was my mom’s and I’ve known the dog since he was a puppy. I lived with him for years. He was with my mom, every day, all day. Now, if my current boyfriend doesn’t want the dog, do I care? Should I move out and get my own apartment with the dog? Then, that brings in finances. Can I afford my own apartment? Can I afford the dog? Is it right for the dog to be in a cage all day when I’m working? That was actually the most difficult part of the grieving process, because I didn’t know what to do with this sweet animal who just lost my mom, who’s known me for years, and really to evaluate and everything came to making a decision. A decision needed to be made about everything. Am I breaking up with my boyfriend? Am I moving out? Am I taking this dog? Am I giving the dog away? What would mom want? What do I do with her things? What are we doing with her apartment? When are we packing this up? Where are we bringing it?

“All of those decisions to make between my sister and me because we don’t have a dad. Thankfully, my uncles helped us out with everything. They were able to pay for the funeral and really help us out with the finances. Everywhere you turned, there was a decision that had to be made, and I’m young. I didn’t have to go through all that with my dad because my mom was there. They divorced a while ago and his property and stuff wasn’t as hard because we weren’t so connected and intertwined. I was eating, living, breathing, and sleeping my mom. She was, and still is, my life. The detachment was hard. We ended up giving the dog to a distant family member and I still see him monthly. Once a month, I give him his flea and tick medicine because he gets a rash if he gets fleas. She’s a stay-at-home mom because she has three kids, a beautiful house, a yard, and he’s happy over there. That really wasn’t easy.

“Here I am today and August 15th will make a year. I’m doing better and the grieving is not as intense and not as demanding as it used to be, but I think about her all the time. I wonder if she hears me when I’m calling, what happens after death, maybe it’s a comfort that we humans find, saying ‘maybe they are listening,’ but maybe that’s just a comfort we need.”

You touched upon something really important that often people who are experiencing grief don’t touch upon: the dynamics through this period of emotional grieving and loss, this burden and responsibility of making decisions and having to participate and function. From some people that I’ve spoken to about this, it’s almost like your mental state switches to autopilot and you delay emotional feelings and processing to get through the decision-making process, to go through the motions, to appease everyone else around you who’s grieving and offering condolences and, after that subsides, comes in the real emotional weight of the actual loss. Did you experience an influx of support and condolences, and did that eventually subside, and how did that feel?

“Whether in person, social media, or whatever the interactions might have been, I think the majority of people who wanted to say something were the ones who attended her service. That was a smack in the face, everyone at once, and it was really hard to take in. If it was social media, and I said ‘thinking of you’ or something sweet, I would get ‘my heart is still with you’ and the support from people I really never spoke to, even in high school. My mom would bring us together, whether we hung out or not, ‘you lost your mom—my heart is with you’ kind of thing. Friends I wouldn’t see for a long time, then I would see them, and the first thing they would say is ‘hey, I’m real sorry about your mom,’ that whole thing. That really calmed down as the months went on and then it was a thing of the past.

“I still feel I have the support, and I think that’s really the bond I have with Kyle. After my father passed away, when I was 21, the next year, Kyle’s father passed away. Kyle and his father, Tim, were the way I was with my mom. They grew up together. Kyle was his only son; he has all sisters. It was one of the strongest father-son relationships I’ve seen in my life, and then he got sick and passed away. Kyle was there to support me with my father’s death and then his father died within the year, so I was there helping him with that, and then my mom died. That support and bond that I have with Kyle—we went through some trauma together, and it was the same trauma. We lost our parents, and now I don’t have any and his mom isn’t too stable right now. We really have support for each other because it’s a shared understanding. I think that my cousins and I and my sister we’ve gotten closer. Even with my uncles, in a situation like death, I think a person matures a lot, depending on the age.”

It changes you, definitely.

“Yes, definitely. I still really feel the support from everyone around me, especially the ones who knew her. That way it’s not me describing her to the best of my ability because I’m never going to get it right. You just had to know her, and then you know what I mean. I never feel there’s a lack of support, but it definitely dwindled as time went on. I think that’s the same situation, unless you’re famous like Martin Luther King or Michael Jackson, but time is going to go on. When forty years go by, there are going to be new problems that arise or whatever the case may be, but I think it’s just living in the memory.”

What has gotten you through some of the darker times during those periods? I know you mentioned your relationship with Kyle being a pillar in that process. What has given you hope, a scrap of light, or motivation to keep going when you felt overwhelmed?

“Hmm. That’s a good question. Honestly, I think it might be my thoughts and personality. My perception of life is ‘it is what it is.’ My uncle told me that life is for the living, and that really stuck with me. Life has to go on and I don’t think that I’ve gone through really depressive symptoms because everyone deals with it differently. I could have easily still been in bed, taking Xanax, and trying to figure out how to ease my anxiety. I really think it’s a mind over matter situation. Just knowing that I can talk to whoever I need to or support someone that isn’t doing so well with it. Now that it’s hitting the summer holiday, July 4th, and the one-year anniversary, my grandmother’s not doing so well. She’s having panic attacks and anxiety, and her doctors are putting her on all these medications. I’m telling her to try CBD oil, something more natural. She has identified one of her triggers as my mom no longer being here. She was her only daughter. Never mind losing your parent, but a parent that loses a child; that’s hard, especially because you don’t want your kids to die before you. That’s not the way the circle of life should work. I think supporting others that need support has really helped me get me through my dark times.

“When my sister would text me ‘I miss Mom,’ I would say ‘let’s talk about her;’ never mind just ‘me too.’ Whether we were talking or texting, I would ask her what’s your favorite memory? or what were you thinking about? Or, I’d say ‘remember this time’; and we’d laugh. Or, I’d say ‘this reminds me of mom when she ….’ When I’m thinking about her, I’ll tell whoever I’m with that I’m thinking about my mother right now, and then share a memory or two, smile, and carry on or cry if I need to cry. I do not suppress the emotion, but do tell myself that I need to keep moving forward. My mom would always tell me that she was put on this earth to put me and Sarah on this earth. She would say ‘I was born to raise you girls and to develop you into the strong individuals that you are, and you need to do that; that’s your life-fulfilling prophecy.’ Just listening to her, moving on, and trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be and where I’m supposed to be. I guess I have some peace of mind, thinking that she’s still somewhere listening to me, even if I can’t find a sign or whatever. I think that really helps me in my dark times.”

It sounds like a few things stood out from what you just said. One was feeling your way through it, not trying to repress or medicate it, but to actually feel your way through the emotions and honor them. The other was empathy. Empathizing with others who are going through something similar kind of gets you outside of yourself and you recognize that you’re not alone, and that’s very healing. The other thing is it sounds like that you absorbed a lot of her energy and everything that she instilled in you, even if you don’t see a trace of her outside of yourself, inside of you she exists.

“I hope. She was a really, really strong part of my life. I lived to make her laugh and vice versa. I would hope that for my kids one day, to teach them the positive views on life, how to rise up when you’re down, how to treat others, and how to keep smiling. My mom really helped me through college papers, and that was a really hard time for me. Showing your kid how to push forward, even though in that moment and what you’re going through seems like you’re going to die, the worse moment ever. My mom would tell me ‘Shay, look you’re already in your junior year of college, you can get through this paper. You can write this 30-page paper on Neanderthals, it’s fine.’ I think it’s the optimism that she always provided for me to keep moving forward. I want to instill that in, honestly, anyone, even my clients at work. I tell them - look at how far you’ve come, keep pushing forward, you’re talented in many ways, you’ve touched the lives around you, people care about you, and you owe that to yourself. Maybe I got that from my mom.”

What has this journey of loss, grief, and resilience taught you about yourself or life?

“I think that it’s taught me that life is going to always change, even when you’re very comfortable where you are. Anything unexpected can happen, but self-care is important through these hard times, and that’s how you grow. You kind of owe it to yourself to think about the situation over and over and over and over again because you’re probably going to be overthinking. I’m thinking about when my first boyfriend in high school broke up with me. He broke my heart, really broke my heart. I was going through an identity crisis and a small amount of self- harm. I didn’t know who I was or where I was. Looking back, if I had known that I was going to get my master’s degree, I wouldn’t be stressing that at sixteen. That’s growth. That’s life. You’re going to replay the situation a million times in your head of what could have gone differently, what you could have done, and maybe the solution you thought would have been the perfect one at that moment didn’t work out. Maybe in a few years from then, after you’ve grown, you’ll see that it was the best for you when you were young. I think life does have a plan. I think through trauma, change, and going through something that really hurts may bring you a couple of steps back, but you just have to trust the process, and that’s pretty comforting.”

It sounds like faith in the process, if not some sort of higher power or energy, and also the courage to keep going, regardless of whether it feels or seems bad, but that there’s potentially something beyond that, that you can’t see yet or have access to, the process is going to justify your pain and suffering eventually?

“Yes. I’m sure if you look back from where you are now, there has to have been some traumatic thing you’ve been through and felt that is the end all, this is it, rock, rock bottom. That’s what I would try to tell my mom, ‘you don’t know where you’re going to be next month, and this seems terrible right now, and it’s really hard for you.’ When you were in first grade, your ABCs and writing the alphabet were probably really hard for you. It was hard for you for where you were at that time and look at how much you’ve grown. You learned it, you accomplished it, and you conquered it. You can take something away every time you move forward, and you can use that to fight your next battle.”

I like that analogy, and I often use something similar. I’m not a gamer myself, but in videogames, usually you have to get to the end of whatever phase it is or whatever kind of level it is and conquer something to acquire a tool or weapon that’s going to be useful in the next level. I think life is like that as well. If you don’t conquer whatever that thing is and get that tool, you have to go back to the beginning and try again to get that because it’s almost like a key that unlocks the door to more knowledge, more capability, and more empowerment.

“I think you can easily get discouraged when you’re making the same mistakes over and over and over again because you haven’t learned that lesson or you weren’t able to figure out why you’re making the same mistake over and over again. If you keep trying and understand more or take new information per time you made the mistake, then you’re probably able to gather all of the information that you can to conquer that and move forward to learn why you’re making the same mistake, to make a different decision, and to go a different path.”

Yeah, and I think that’s important because we have a culture or belief system that says mistakes are failure, and we become self-deprecating and super critical of ourselves to the point where we’re too afraid to take chances or risks. But every mistake is an opportunity for learning and growth, like ‘oh, that didn’t work, let me try this instead.’ If we can approach it like that, we may continue to move forward, rather than isolate ourselves in a little cage. So what would you have said to your younger self when she was struggling at some of those moments, having the wisdom and knowledge you have now?

“What would I have said to my younger self?”

If she was sitting beside you right now with her baggage, her wows, and limited perspective.

“That’s creepy . . . Believe in your potential and do this for your future self. It’s okay to cry and it’s okay to be confused and angry, but talk about it or believe that it will get better. It’s not easy, but it becomes easier. Time after time after time, your life is worth living so keep pushing forward and you have all of these goals you want to achieve, so do that. Move forward with no regrets. Why you’re hurting is a piece of you. Don’t hate the boyfriend that broke up with you in ninth grade because he cheated on you. He’s taught you that you’re not going to take any bullshit from any other guy. Or, maybe you’re in a fight with your best friend, but this has taught you how to treat others or how to learn more about your best friend and why this person was so hurt, the words that you said, or the effect that you have on people. Try to learn something from each experience and keep pushing forward to be your better self.”

If your mother were here, sitting beside you, what would you want her to hear and know?

“That I miss her and I hope she’s here. I don’t know . . . the guidance that sometimes I feel I don’t have. When I feel lost, I hope she’s here with me, and I’m trying to communicate with her and show my parents that I’m the person that they want in a daughter, all of the lessons that they taught me. I want to show them that I can do it and support my sister throughout the way, be kind to people, make a change in the world, and they really inspired me, and I hope they’re together as soulmates.”

Do you think it’s possible that she received that message, on some level, that you sent?

“I think so. I have family members that have gone to mediums and they would say that my mom came through, but it’s always skeptical. My sister went to a medium and she didn’t like what she heard and it wasn’t what she expected. I think it depends on who you go to and the messages that you receive. Lately, I’ve learned a lot about synchronicities and then it’s easy to realize that things aren’t just coincidences. I’ve had a couple of occasions when I’ve felt like I was just saying something out loud or was trying to talk to my mom about this one thing and then it unfolds right in front of me. I think it’s about being patient and not saying ‘Mom, if you’re here, give me a sign,’ and then sit in silence for forty-five minutes. I think it’s waiting, for example, when you fall asleep, she comes in your dreams and tells you the message that you want to hear, even if not her, but she’s able to bring a thought into your dream that you wouldn’t have thought of when you were conscious, busy with your everyday life. It could be anything. It could be me talking to my mom, vocalizing a problem that I have, then I fall asleep and think of something new because she told me. If it were me being conscious and she said, ‘Shay, you could do this’ and I would say ‘no that’s not the best decision’ because I’m so indecisive and I wouldn’t trust myself. But, if it were my mom coming to me in a dream telling me, maybe that’s how I would trust it. I think on some level, she can hear the messages because we were so close and connected compared to reaching out to my dad, but I hope. I always think that this could be something that us humans use just to get us through, which isn’t too depressing either. Whatever helps you cope and whatever helps you get by. It is what it is. If that’s it, then so be it. Let it comfort me, thinking of my mom, hoping that she’s here because I’m not ready to let go. If she is here, that’s great.

“I have a best friend, and we’ve been friends since eighth grade, ever since I told her that she has the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen, we really kicked it off. She was really close with my mom, as well. We were recently at my grandmother’s house because my grandmother wanted to clear all of my mom’s things out before the fourth of July when we were having our family party. I left to go upstairs and Mya was in the basement, where the pool table is. Mya told me that something was there with her and she said that she told my mom, ‘Sharon, don’t show yourself right now, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t take it.’ I think Maya absorbs a lot of energy and it comes from her family tree; her mom is like that, as well. They’re 100 percent Polish. They’re always telling me about superstitions like ‘put something red on your suitcase’ or ‘if someone’s mean or showing you negative energy that you can’t take, take their picture and put it facing a mirror so that it will go back to them.’ All interesting kind of prophecies, per say. She said, ‘Shay, I’m hoping it was your mom, but I felt something when you left that basement, I was not alone.’ It’s small things, like maybe she’s coming through to other people if I can’t get to her or if my aura is too cloudy because I have too many conspiracies, I don’t know if that’s the right word, but you know what I mean.”

Yeah, if we’re all made of energy, right? Everything is energy. Energy can’t be destroyed or recreated, so it’s possible that it kind of changes form, but it’s still here in some way. Over the years you spend with somebody, you absorb those memories, experiences, and energy and, if you’re part of their DNA, you share a cellular structure.

“You can really tell. When I was looking at my dad when he was laying there after he passed, I’ll never forget the feeling . . . a shell was a perfect, perfect word to use for that. It’s not just a dead body lying there. It’s empty inside. It’s completely empty. His soul must have gone somewhere because he left whatever it was laying in that bed.”

Yes, you used the word host, which I also like. A spirit, a soul, it’s a host, our bodies are kind of our vehicles, in a sense, to do our work while we’re here.

“I remember when Kyle’s dad passed away, and we were at Yale for days, every day, making sure that we didn’t miss it. He was transferred over to Masonicare. He also passed away from pneumonia. He had esophageal cancer and was really deteriorating. When he passed away, we were in a dead sleep and my sister’s room, before she moved out, because we live in an apartment complex, her room was right by where you park the cars, and our bedroom and our window faces the back yard. I guess Kyle’s sisters were banging on the door early in the morning and my sister heard them and let them in. I woke up by his sister’s barging our door open, saying ‘Kyle, Shay, you need to get up now, you need to go to the hospital.’ This isn’t a common thing, you wouldn’t wake up like that.

“When my mom died, it was the same story. My sister came into my room early in the night and she said ‘Shay, you need to meet me downstairs right now. I need you to come here, get your clothes on, and let’s go.’ I was sleeping with Kyle so I got out of bed quietly. My uncles were there in the living room, and we sat on the couch and they said ‘your mom passed away this morning’ and it was around 3 am. All I can think about was I was so mad at myself for not tidying up the living room. You know when you go to bed, you kind of want to tidy your house a little bit. My uncles are pretty clean and I look around my living room, and it was such a mess and my uncles had never been there before. I had thought ‘if I had just tidied up before bed’ I wouldn’t be thinking this.

“Last night was the same situation, but not as upsetting. I was sleeping, my friends had gone out, Kyle included, and I stayed home with the puppy. All of a sudden, I’m being woken up, there’s two shadows in my room, one of which is my best friend, Mya, and I didn’t know, and now I know, it was my friend, Megan, Kyle was still not home, and it was 2 am. I just saw their black figures. Mya was rubbing my foot and saying ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, Shay’ and I say ‘What? What’s going on? How did you get in my house?’ She said that she just wanted to say hi, she had been drinking, and she wanted to see me, she missed me, and wanted to say hi. I kicked them out and, as I’m brushing my teeth this morning, I thought ‘wow, I haven’t been woken up out of a dead sleep since the last two times and it was horrific news coming my way.’ Wake up, wake up, you need to get up right now. It was so funny, because I thought about that this morning, and that was really interesting.”

Do you have a mantra, a quote, a song lyric, or something that someone has said to you that resonates with you that you’d like to share?

“Hmmm. I don’t know. I think ‘trust the process’ is something I really hold onto, and someone shared that with me when I was really concerned about where I was moving with my career. It was an old associate I worked with at Foot Locker when I was a kid. I wasn’t expecting to hold onto something like that, but now it really drives me sometimes. That’s definitely one of them. I’m sure I have so many.”

When you tap into your mother’s voice and memory of her, is there a particular message or something that’s resounding in your mind?

“Yeah. I think about how she told me I was made to be a strong, powerful, influential person. One of our clients we currently have one time told me that I have the ability to move mountains. I think about that, and it’s such a powerful message. I think that being able to tell someone that or having someone hear that from you really reminds me of my mom. I think that is so powerful because it can be interpreted in so many different ways. I think that’s something I like to deliver and pass on. Even telling it to yourself—you have the ability to move mountains, so you keep moving forward.”

For those who are reading or listening to this, who can relate to any number of thoughts, feelings, or experiences you’ve expressed, what would you want them to take away from this sharing?

“I would want them to take away that life can really knock you upside-down, but you deserve to go through your emotions. I feel like it’s easy to be conditioned to say don’t be angry, don’t yell, don’t scream, don’t punch a wall, don’t cry, you’re weak, especially to the males out there, but you are a human and deserve to go through your emotions, whether you’re male or female. If you want to drive to a field and scream, scream. If you want to be sad for four days, be sad for four days. If you want to cry, cry to your favorite song. But know that you deserve to be happy and you deserve to pick yourself back up. You have that ability, and do that for yourself. Allow yourself to be angry, but know that you will pick yourself back up, and it’s just as important as any of your emotions. Happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, confusion—you deserve all of them. I feel people can get mad at themselves when they’re confused or get mad at themselves when they can’t stop crying. They think ‘I’m sad, I’m supposed to be happy, I don’t want to be around these people, I’m sad, I’m sad.’ It’s okay: be sad. You can be sad. You can 100 percent be sad, cry, not want to open up to people, or open up. You also deserve very much to be happy and to keep moving forward. I think you owe that to yourself, remember that, and pick yourself back up when it’s time.”

Thank you very much for saying that. I think more and more, in the culture that we live in, we’re receiving this messaging that there’s a limited range of emotions that are cool to feel and are human. We are diagnosing, casting out, medicating, and censoring away the more difficult emotions that are also a part of the human experience that deserve just as much attention and honoring presence in our life as happiness and joy; the whole spectrum. Being an artist, you need both light and dark to create contrast and texture, interest and depth. If we were just to have light, happiness, and joy we would not have any comparison to appreciate those moments. There’s a whole range of human emotions.

“A whole range. You got to feel them. You’re human.”

Yes. Thank you for saying that. How has it felt to share these thoughts, feelings, and experiences with me today?

“Kind of like a weight lifted off my shoulders, I think. After something traumatic happens, it’s easy to keep it locked away, maybe in fear that you don’t want to re-experience the emotions that you went through. Time goes on, time to forget, time to keep going. I don’t want to feel that hurt and pain anymore, but I think the more that you share and allow yourself to revisit what you went through in the past, it opens for more healing and you can adapt and learn something more about yourself when you share it with others. Even just talking about it, even though the moment has passed; let’s talk about it. It was a significant part of your life that you went through and you were able to move forward, even if it may have taken a little while. I think sharing it today on this beautiful, hot, windy day—it felt good. It felt good to talk about my mom and my dad. They are who I am and they were great people, really great people. I was brought up with a lot of love, a lot of love, and inspiration to be the best person I can be. Thank you for helping me realize that.”

You’re welcome. Do you think it’s possible that by sharing your thoughts, experiences, and feelings with me today and knowing that this will reach a public audience, whether it’s through a book, a blog, or podcast, someone on the receiving end could benefit or gain hope or inspiration that they’re not alone?

“Yes. One hundred percent, people across all ages, including adolescents who don’t have parents or maybe have parents who aren’t supporting them or just not in their life. I hope that what someone can take away from this is believing in themselves, not overanalyzing all the relationships in their life and trying to help build a bridge or understand another person in your relationship as what it is. How you can make it grow, or how you can heal, or how you can come to peace with your hurting with relationships with other people, if that’s the case, whether they’ve passed on or you want to improve the relationship. I think it starts in you; it really does. Loving yourself, believing in yourself, knowing that you have a purpose, and letting whatever it is grow. You know?”

Right on. Thank you.

“You’re welcome.”

#death #grief #selfconfidence #selfesteem #motivation #emotionalwellness

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beekeepercain · 7 years

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if you were still doing prompts, maybe teen trans girl Sam putting on makeup and dressing up while dean and John are out on a hunt, just being able to be herself and do things she wants and just be happy?

Trans prompts for TDOV?

It’s too gloomy to go outside. Rain’s coming down in curtains: it washes across the parking lot and the street in a wave-like formation, then tones back down to a steady drizzle. Sam’s sitting on the table; Dean and Dad are gone, so there’s no one to tell her otherwise.

Her.

Yeah.

The word is starting to feel more and more right with every time she tries it on.

So, the library’s off limits today - but maybe there’s something else to be done. Sam’s eyes catch the sight of the shopping mall next door. It’s just a quick sprint away. She’s got the legs to make it quick, the only good thing to come out of puberty so far. The downsides are trickier. Maybe she won’t get wet, but what about when she gets there? How can she muster up the courage to go to the stores she wants to see, and worse yet, if she finds something discount - can she buy it? Does she have what it takes to walk up to the cashier with whatever she’s found and actually, really buy it?

She shivers, casting a look back towards the empty box of hot chocolate on the table. A grimace later, she’s off the table: she’s got to go buy groceries anyway. Might as well see about the rest once she’s there.

The rain barely catches her on the way across the street. She picks up the groceries first, stuffing a pack of cereals, some oatmeal and more hot chocolate inside her bag, and then, on the way back, she takes the longer route through the clothes stores. A thick swallow passes through her throat as she stops before one. It’s now or never, right?

She’s never been one to back off.

An employee gives her a smile in greeting: they nod at each other, with Sam’s stomach buzzing and filling with nervous energy. She can feel her body tensing and then relaxing once she’s out of view, behind the racks of clothes on display. She runs her hands over the fabrics, breathes in a shaky breath full of the scent of the store, and lets herself wander around for a while as if she’s just looking around and not heading for the discount section at all - like she isn’t intending to buy. Especially not for her.

“Can I help you?” a voice jumps him from behind.

Another employee, a woman in her thirties, stands behind her. Of course - she’s a teenage boy in a women’s clothes store. Probably looking to dress up her girlfriend.

A good idea, when Sam thinks about it for a moment. She gives the employee a nervous smile and nods.

“Hey,” she greets her, “I’m - looking for some clothes for my cousin. She’s turning 17 and she’s, well, around my size, a bit thicker I guess? I don’t know if I should, I don’t know, try something on myself or if that’s not a good way to measure whether they’ll fit her, too. I feel kinda ridiculous, to be honest.”

She’s been trained in lying since she was born. The employee smiles sympathetically and nods at her.

“Well, your cousin might have wider hips than you do, especially if she’s on the heavier side.”

“It’s not necessarily that she’s heavy, I think - I don’t know - she’s borrowed my jeans before, and those fit her, right?”

“That’s a good indicator. If she’s borrowed your clothes before and they fit, then you’re approximately the same size, and - if the clothes don’t fit, just keep the receipt and she can come exchange them for a better size.”

Sam nods, her smile more relieved now.“Alright, so, if I find a pair of jeans or something, I can - I can go try them on, right? Or is that weird?”

“Not at all! I’ll be right here if you need help choosing something for her.”

“Thanks,” Sam tells her, and she nods at her again before moving a little further to give her space.

Suddenly feeling like she’s bursting with excitement, Sam digs into the discount clothes. She’s only got some sixty bucks saved up, but it turns out to be enough for a nice grey shirt with a wide collar and loose sleeves, and a pair of more form-fitting soft jeans. Throwing Dean’s old red flannel over that... she should look just fine. No, better than fine - she should look good. As if it’s the first time she’s ever had that chance, she makes her way into the dressing room.

She can’t say she’s not nervous when she picks up the first grey shirt and tries it on. It’s a little too small, hugging her bony, toned structure too closely for comfort, so she picks up another one, just a single size up, and finds it falling over her form perfectly. It’s just baggy enough to hide her masculine shape, just long enough to cover up her toned arms and cascade over her narrow hips in a manner that almost seems to make them grow wider, and... God. It’s good. It’s really, really good. She leaves it on to try on the jeans. Again, the first pair is a little too tight - this time from the crotch area, which doesn’t surprise her at all but makes her stomach twist painfully regardless - but the next one, while a little loose around her waist, doesn’t make her feel bad about herself at all. Just to try it, she pulls off the belt from her old jeans and wraps it around the new ones to make sure they don’t crunch up or turn baggy around the hips once tied down, and they don’t: the overall looks so good she has to crouch on the floor in front of the mirror and just breathe into her hands for a little while to not scream. There’s a very strange sensation inside her, like an expanding balloon inside her belly that pushes her heart up into her throat and makes it pump hard and fast out of sheer joy. There’s no reason for it, but she just feels so good and so right in these clothes that not buying them isn’t a damn option anymore.

Quietly, she changes back into her old clothes, returns the ill-fitting ones to the discount section and brings the rest up to the cashier. She’s the same woman who helped her before, and maybe she notices the excited blush on Sam’s face or maybe she doesn’t, but Sam feels like she’s now somehow a part of a conspiracy with her - she’s been there, helping her pick out her first real clothes. It’s then that she notices the eyeliner pencils in a cup on the counter, 8 bucks each. Swallowing, she picks up one and adds it on the clothes.

“These run out quickly, right?” she asks nervously, and the cashier smiles at her and runs it up.

“She’ll love it, I’m sure,” she tells her as she bags the clothes and the pencil up before handing them to her.

Sam nearly flies out of the store. Her feet take her through the mall like she’s gliding, and the rain doesn’t even begin to bother her when she crosses the street and the parking lot again. She makes a small hop through the doorway and returns to the motel room’s silent privacy, and she’s so damn happy, there’s nothing she’s ever felt before that quite compares to it - quickly, she sheds her old, now slightly moist, clothes off of her body and dresses up in the new ones. Like she planned, she picks up Dean’s red flannel and throws it over her shoulders, unbuttoned, leaving the loose grey shirt visible: she’s trembling when she microwaves a mug of milk to mix into hot chocolate, holding back from looking at herself in the mirror until it’s done. Then, with her mug in hand, she walks not to the mirror, but to the table: she hops up on it again and scoots up until her legs are dangling down from the edge, but the rest of her is nearly smushed up against the window. With the scenery outside so bleak and dark, it’s easy to see her own image reflecting from the window in the light of the motel room’s warm yellow glow, and she watches both her own self and the scenery behind mixing together as she carefully lines up her eyes with the pencil, feeling like for once she’s a part of this world - like for once, she’s real, and she belongs somewhere.

Maybe it’s not on top of this particular motel room table. Maybe it’s not in this motel, or this town, but she’s sure she has a place in this world. And a few years from now? With the grades she’s getting, the work she’s putting in? Who knows, maybe one day she can start a new life at Stanford. Nobody needs to know.

#nonny #trans!Sam #Sam Winchester #Supernatural #SPN #fanfiction #prompts

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milquetoast-on-acid · 7 years

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Bastille Day, A Reactionary Post

Battlestar Galactica S.1 E.3, Episode Review

Tigh as a functioning alcoholic The episode opens up with Tigh starting off his day with a couple of shots. And just how easily it is for him to function on a normal level with that alcohol running through his veins.

It's interesting to note that despite finding water in Water they are down again or hadn't found enough water. This is a nice and wonderful contrast to a little known sci-fi show that RDM previously worked on called Star Trek Voyager. In which they never ran out of torpedos, food, water and had a endless supply of scuttle crafts. Just ask Chakotay about that last one.

Solving the water crisis...with criminals I love Laura here. She takes charge here as President. There still is a power struggle here between her and Bill. And she doesn't back down, nor does she defer to him here. Even though things are better between them and they have started to bond and find some common interests. It is vitally important for her to maintain power. That she can and will.

Also her response to Billy suggesting Anastasia go with the crew to the prison ship. Mary McDonnell is a master in reactions. Later her teasing Billy is just too adorable.

Laura's hair

Looks like they are still trying to figure out a good hairstyle for Laura. It's better than the mini but looks very farrah fawcett circa 1970's. Not my favorite style for Laura. That'd be season 2 "Laura is dying so she doesn't give too much attention to her hair" so it looks pretty natural.

Choosing sides: Lee, who do you want to be? A Battlestar Commander like Daddy or the President like Mommy?

Lee is a young man who really doesn't know what he wants to do. He has a strong set of morals but I think at this point he doesn't really know who he is. And here he finds himself torn between his father and Laura.

Honestly I'm not quite sure why Bill has such a big bug up his ass about Lee being Laura's representative. Maybe it's a bit of Bill not wanting to lose Lee to politics. Despite having both of his sons follow him into the service, one is dead and the other one seems to be contemplating what he wants out of life. And that just may not be a commander on the battlestar.

Although maybe Bill's point of choosing sides may have to be that Lee will have to pick on whether he wants to be a pilot or a politician. He can't be both. Which of course I agree with Bill on that he can't. But for now Lee will do a bit of both before he has to ultimately decide on who he wants to be.

"If they volunteer but these men are not slaves and I will not have them treated as such."

Also knowing what I now know about Lee. It’s not hard to see Lee being swayed by Laura. She’s very much for democratic rights at this stage in the show and that’s something that’s very much at the core of what makes Lee tick. So she’s someone for him to look up to verses his father’s rigid stance on democracy (he really doesn’t believe in it) especially when he lives in world where taking and giving orders is life. In that world there is no room for democracy.

I am Tom Zarek and today is the first day of the new era I remember when I was first watched the show last year. There was such a big deal with Zarek's introduction scene that I knew he had to be someone but he wasn't any kind of actor that I had recognized. If you had watched the original BSG then you'd recognize him as the original Apollo.

Apollo verse Apollo

I could never get a handle on what exactly Zarek wanted. Here he pumps Lee for information on any weaknesses between Roslin and Adama. He appeals to Lee's strong morals to sway him towards his agenda. I suppose my assumption would be that Zarek wants power and to gain control of the fleet. Although why, I'm not exactly sure. To have power? Because he's power hungry?

The thing about Zarek is that he always brings up some really great points about the current political situations whenever he pops up. He's got a point that Laura was never elected and that there should be elections. However, he's waaaay over dramatic about it and he is completely wrong that her presidency is illegitimate. Laura's assent into the presidency was in fact legal with her being the next in line for the presidency and there for legitimate.

The thing about Zarek is his way of going about things to prove his point. He more often than not uses violence to force change and for what reason? For Power?

Boomer and the Chief: a forbidden love story

It's only obvious to everyone that Boomer and the chief are hitting the sheets or rather hitting the deck plates. Their illicit affair is having consequences.

“Your his superior officer, we're at war this is a combat unit and your his superior officer. Put a stop to it. That's an order."

Tigh is finally putting his foot down and as we later learn Adama knew about their affair and let it go on. Another way that Tigh and Adama differ. Tigh doesn't let anyone get away with their shit. Adama is a softie at heart and really just wants people to be happy. And if that means giving them more room to do their thing than they should then so be it. Also the Irony of what is being said here to what happens in season 4.

Caprica City, Caprica I have to wonder if Caprica is so yellow due to the radiation from the bombings or is Caprica naturally that bright and yellow.

“He's your son.” “He's your advisor.”

Mom and Dad fighting over their kid already. You send the kid in to deal with the situation and what does he come back with? Not the solution that you had in mind. Much like a later episode (which is considered the worst episode of BSG, and you know what I'm talking about) Lee's solution to the problem is not to actually resolve the problem. Instead of dealing with the prisoners he decides oh. Let's let them go and be free men. Even if none of them have earned it. Even if some (lets face it probably all) of them are dangerous.

Lee's compromise is that they are dependent on the rest of the fleet for food and fuel. Yes that's true but what's stopping them from hijacking a transport to their ship and wreaking having on the rest of the fleet. Nothing.

I will give him that yes, I agree. They should eventually have an election once the remainder of Adar's term is up. But on the downside of this...actions have consequences and the result of Lee's actions means that ultimately Gaius Baltar becomes president. And in a strange twist of fate New Caprica and this shit that happened there is precipitated by Lee.

Kara and Tigh and the water that was not booze. I love Kara here and her little fake out. By giving Tigh water out of a flask and everyone (including Tigh) thinking that it's booze. This is really Kara's way of coming to common ground with him. Not necessarily resolving their issues but at least they are in a better place than before.

Laura and Lee,

“The truth is I have cancer.” “I’m going to fight this but there is a great need for secrecy. Whether or not I survive this illness it is a great importance to me that there is a future for the people. And I fear that knowledge of my illness will erode hope. So this has to stay between you and me.” - Laura

“You can count on me.” - Lee

irony...oh Lee.

Love that dialog "Stay Frosty, there Billy." I feel like that was a saying back in the day. Stay frosty. I love it even if I don't know what it means. Stay cool maybe? Don't let shit get to your head?

"Where's your mommy?" - Saul "Dead. Where's yours?" - Useless kid who I forget his name, oh yeah it’s Boxey. What the hell kind of name is that!?

- I swear this kid is so useless except for giving awesome one liners and thank goodness he's gone from the show after this episode.

"Zeus is calling." The first time that Adama is called Zeus, god of Olympus and god of the gods. A pretty fitting title since this show loves mythology and religious references. Adama is the father of humanity (Olympus) and father to those under his command (god of the gods). And the man with (along with Laura) holds the power.

The Sad Bill segment

why so sad?

What I liked about this episode? I was never the biggest fan of Apollo's character but after seeing the whole entire series. I do think I like this episode better than the first time I saw it. We also get introduced to a wonderfully slippery Zarek. Who we always know has nefarious motivations but does bring up excellent points. He's power hungry and able to read people.

What I didn't like about this episode? Wasn't much that I didn't like except maybe the focus on a character that I don't care for all that much. Meaning whiny Lee.

#bsg a reactionary post #bsg season 1 a reactionary post #bsg #battlestar galactica #lee adama #boomer and the chief #Bastille Day #saul tigh #laura roslin #bill adama #tom zarek

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federalcontractor · 4 years

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30-Day Challenge: Help Someone Other Than Yourself

Today, I recorded a special edition podcast inviting all of you to do a challenge called “30-day Challenge: Help Someone other than Yourself”. While we are waiting for this pandemic to end, I believe that we can do something more than sitting at home and watching Neflix. I’ll share to you five ways that I believe can make a difference today. It’s best if you share your own thoughts and ideas too. Let us know!

1. Volunteer

Help two people other than yourself. Simple things like making coffee or sending donuts and pizza. Give away your extra Christmas cards. What good are they to you right now, anyway? Give it to our police, firefighters, or nurses. Let them order take-outs for their teams. One beautiful example is our church, Miami Vineyard, sent Little Caesar’s pizza over to a nurses station. We all have the ability to wipe down stuff. Can you wipe down baskets at Walmart or your neighborhood grocery store or maybe even the gas station pumps. I know it may seem a little bit weird, but you’d be surprised when others see people helping out.

Just think, what can I do to take the pressure off of others? Why do we not have a “COVID-19: How can you Help” website with the list of activities that people can come to do in and around their communities? Why has someone not built that yet? Maybe you should be the one to build it. It’s so easy to focus on the news, blaming others, pointing fingers rather than all these media outlets come together and build solutions. Pump gas for someone who’s 60 and up, help them offload their groceries, packages, et cetera. I have four more ideas below.

2. Find Solutions

Work on putting out little fires, not just big ones. What are things in and around your community that need solving? There’s more to serving the first responders. What can you do for the

mailman, delivery drivers, truckers, maybe your programmer. Could you help a local business build a delivery service or help them connect with DoorDash, Uber Eats, Postmates so that they can keep their doors open. With everything closed, now is the perfect time to integrate offline with online high-tech with low tech.

Once you start looking for inventive ways to serve, the more they will come to your head. Be an idea machine. Like my brother James Altucher says, write down 10 things that you’re good at, maybe even profession and write down 10 things that are desperately needed and see if there’s any intersection. For example, let’s take your carpenter. Maybe you can build planter boxes for people who want to now start growing their own gardens. More and more people are now wanting to plant their own crops. Maybe you’re doing something for your immediate family.

Here’s an idea and one of the things that came to my mind while I was out walking today. How about capturing the stories of your grandparents? How about you grab a recording device, call grandma, grandpa and just start asking questions. “Grandma, what was it like when you were six years old? 10 years old, 15 years old. Were boys mean to you?” “Grandpa. Did you go to school with other races of people? Grandpa. What age did you meet grandma? Did you have someone special in your life before you met her?” Same thing for grandma. “Grandma, do you remember when you first laid eyes on grandpa and by the way, what were your parents like? When did your parents pass away?” I think that grabbing these stories and sending them on a computer for history will do wonders for your family and generations to come.

3. Be A Sounding Board

Mental illness plagues millions of people each year. Let’s start using our phones for their original intent, their design of talking to others. With all this extra time on our hands, let’s ask people how they are feeling and mean it.

We all have those friends that are difficult to talk to, but maybe what we should build is a call exchange service where you can talk to a stranger in need. No therapists, no specialists, just a conversation. How about something like this? Remember those old phone sex lines? Yeah, I know. We never tried it, but we always saw advertisements before the internet, similar in nature, but instead helping people in need.

How about we have a switchboard that connects colors based on their needs like weight gain, suicide, depression, death, divorce, terminal illness, and separation anxiety. Now you can choose which calls to answer so you can handle only the calls that you’re comfortable hearing. We can take it even a step further and separate it by English, Spanish, male, female, and again, if someone builds it out, now we have a platform to solve large problems, easy to build, and cheap to maintain.

The network effect grows itself to infinite scale. No reason to rush off the call. It’s not like you have any appointments to go to anyways.

4. Donate

Donate to others. I know people who are couponers, hoarders that have piles of extra stuff. Talk to them about giving away some of this stuff to a nonprofit or others in need. Don’t force our elderly into the stores to get goods. We need our seniors. Before this happened, I knew a lady that converted a bedroom to a storage facility for all for couponing stuff, pre-COVID. I called my coupon-hoarder friends and said, “Hey, some of the people out there need that stuff. They need help. Let’s do it together.” What sense is it and looking at all this stuff in your house while people are going without. Find a couponer on IG, social media and ask them to help. Sometimes people just need the idea planted in their minds.

5. Entertain Others

I’m sure we can all use a break from the 24-hour news cycle. My parents loved Tyler Perry movies. In fact, it’s the only thing that we could collectively watch as a family today. I was on Instagram with a person who’s a chef and he’s out of work. I told him, why not start a YouTube channel cooking show from your home? I even offered to feature him on my channel as a way to build some tracks in the very beginning. Bartenders can make videos of your favorite cocktails and share it with the world. We all need a smile in the community, a release from the horrors of what is happening around us.

What about hosting virtual karaoke parties at your house on Instagram, thinking won’t pick up steam? Ha! During the last hurricane here we had in Florida, we were all stuck at a shelter in the middle school. Everyone was hot, frustrated, no decent meals, we’re eating cafeteria food, nowhere to go, stuck waiting out the next mega storm. Amidst it all, I decided that maybe a little bit of entertainment would just help out. So during the midst of all this chaos, I spoke with someone who was a DJ and had a karaoke machine, and I asked him if he would kindly go out to his home and bring it to the gymnasium where we were at. 60 minutes later, we were setting up a karaoke machine and an hour from there, the whole crowd was joining in. Everybody from different races and ethnic groups were singing all types of music, mariachi, crown. I mean, it was just WOW. The crowd loved it and we had so much fun. During the midst of all this chaos. It was my first shot at entertaining people during the middle of a disaster, and it worked.

Do not let this downtime turn into wasted time. Use it as a way to showcase your gifts, talents, skills. Most of us complained about never being able to do our dreams, follow our paths, our journeys because we’re stuck at work and having to pay bills. Well, now is your time. What are you going to do with it? Thanks for reading! Stay safe, praying for the wellbeing of your families. May God bless you all.

Check and visit GOVCON GIANTS for more information.

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jodounzebulon · 5 years

Text

My Real Deer Story

By Jedi Foun Sive

----- Any and all names and locations have been changed or screened out. If you happen to know who I am please keep it to yourself. Thank you. -----

I had been riding a bicycle to and from work all year. An eight-mile round trip, opening the store around 4 A.M. five-six days a week. After a hot and humid summer, the ride had gotten to be a breeze even over all the hills. On Oct. 13th while leisurely riding along I made the four-mile ride to work in roughly 12 minutes, and thought to myself, “Oh damn, I wasn’t even trying, I could probably make that ride in 10 minutes!”, I then spent the rest of the day bragging about my time and how I was going to beat it! I had to stay late so I just rode home at my normal pace, 12 hours on my feet had left me exhausted. As I got to my home hill I hopped off my bike and walked it to the top sweating, and eager for a shower.

2:45 AM Oct 14th, 2014

I go through my morning rituals but leave all the haste out of my actions. “If I can leave just a little late today that’s all the more motivation to make this ride in just ten minutes”, I tell myself as I futz around for a bit longer. Several minutes before I must leave, I grab my backpack, and march down stairs to get my bike from the garage. I remember I’d gotten in trouble several days before with my grandmother. She was worried because I’d ride through the early morning darkness without a light of any kind. It had never been anything I’d been worried about, but I bought a light for my bikes handle bars and I’d remembered to grab my blaze orange hunting beanie which also had a light. Affixing and turning them both on let me light up my drive way with its trees claustrophobically reaching from my left and the open yard to my right.

Wheeling out onto the road, I steadied myself for a hard ride. I checked my watch, 3:48 A.M., it was time. I started powering downhill with all my might. It was exceptionally steep with a slight hump around the middle and over a quarter mile long. It ended with a sharp turn south at its base to get to my work. I could knock off a whole quarter mile easy by just pushing as hard as I could to get it out of the way. I could feel the wind stinging my eyes at the corners, and my legs pumping below me. I’m unsure of how fast I managed to go, but I am a pretty big guy, and I had been riding all year, whatever speed I was going it was too much for me to react more than a slight jerking of the handle bars to the left, as I reached the bottom of the hill and a Deer came careening into my right side.

I remember quite vividly his head went under my leg and I was thrown leftwards, the bike ripped out of my hand as it traveled away from me. I wasn’t aware of my spinning, but my right hip hit the ground first dragging on the road. With the next roll my forehead slammed the asphalt and grew warm, I pulled my arms up defensively and with the next roll my major joints began taking the remaining hits and slowing me down. As I came to a stop I thought, “Are You F@#$!ng Kidding Me!”, then the pain washed over me. The lights on my bike and beanie had gone out. I lay in the dark swearing for several moments, screaming obscenities into the night, until I heard something breathing over my left shoulder. It was right there next to me. I’d seen the videos and pictures, I knew what kind of damage those hooves could do. I would be damned if I’d be on the ground when he got up!

I rolled onto my stomach, everything in me protesting any movement at all. Pushing myself to my feet I realized I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg. It didn’t matter, if he got up, I was going to be ready, I pulled out my pocket knife. My eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the darkness as I began backing away from the grey form on the road. I was lucky that morning, when the deer began making a sound I’d only heard when they had been hit by cars. Hearing that grotesque flopping and scraping sound of the deer struggling to get up for about a minute set my mind at ease and killed the flow of adrenaline pumping through me. The pain renewed as I placed my knife back in my pocket and realized I’m no longer wearing my backpack. Limping in the dark I managed to find it and retrieve my phone. I dial my then roommate.

Ringing... answered.

<Me> Ted... (pained breathing)

<Ted> (barely audible mumble) What.

<Me> I need you to come and get me from the bottom... of the hill... (more pained breathing, and scrabbling sounds)

<Ted> Okay –Click-

-Several minutes later-

As I see the lights at the top of the hill pull out of our driveway, they flash down the hill and the deer began desperately dragging itself to the tree line, the truck approaches much too quickly down the hill and comes to a screeching halt as Ted swings open his door exclaiming, “What the hell was that!”. Seeing me awash in the headlights covered in road rash, blood, and dirt, disheveled and limping towards the truck with my back pack clutched in one hand my phone in the other. Ted steps to the edge of the road to get a better look at the deer now laying in the brush exhausted from trying to escape after our collision and now dragging itself into the woods about 15 feet. “Did you hit a deer?!?!”, he asks, I pull myself into the passenger seat of the truck as Ted spots my bike a ways down the road, he returns with it and places it into the bed of the truck. Hopping into the driver's seat he asks, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”, I replied with a shaky, “yeah”, and we made our way back up the hill to wake my sleeping niece since she couldn’t be left home alone. As we descend the hill on the way to the hospital Ted suggests I let my boss know I won't be coming in to work today.

Ringing... answered.

<Boss> (barely audible mumble) hello

<Me> (pained breathing) Boss you have to open the store I got hit by a deer and I'm going to the hospital.

<Boss> (still not really understanding) You what? Ok, I’ll head in then.

<Me> Thanks Boss. -Click

Thankfully a new hospital had been built not too far from our home just a couple years earlier, and the ride was short, “Do you need any help in?” Ted asked. Feeling a little more in control of my faculties and able to grit my teeth to the pain I said, “Nah I got it, but we may want to call the wardens and check out that deer, it may have broken it’s neck.” I open the door and ease myself onto the sidewalk of the emergency entrance. After I close the door Ted drives away and I limp into the hospital where the woman behind the counter was seemingly unconcerned by my appearance and posture. Looking up from her reading material for a moment she pointed and said, “Take one of those and fill it out someone will be with you shortly”, she then returned to her magazine. Filling out the card I sat down and had a moment to come to grips with the situation. I began drilling myself for memory to be sure I hadn’t sustained a concussion in the fall.

After several hours of doctors and nurses poking and prodding me and finding and treating the sore spots and road rash. I was sent into a room to get some images of my knee which was pained with each movement. While I was laying on the table, I found myself explaining my circumstances for the first time at length to someone that morning. He reacted differently, more human. He said, “So maybe not today or tomorrow, but give it about a week and this’ll be about the funniest story you’ve ever told!”, and right then I cracked up. I love a good joke and I take life's hits as they come, and I remembered the humor to be found in such a ludicrous situation. I found out not long after that Ted had called the wardens and they determined that the deer would not have survived due to its injuries. To save it a slow death by exposure he terminated it, and let Ted keep the animal. It was gutted and at the butchers by the time I made it home a couple hours later.

I’ve told this story countless times since then. There is a little more I’m leaving out for another time. It has been added to my repertoire of stories I can tell of my life that no one else can say they have done, I became known as the Deer Slayer after that, and most hear the tale and think I’m full of it. I really couldn’t care less what they believe. I was there I felt the road, the pain. I was approached several days later by a neighbor on that road who had cleaned away my blood, so the kids wouldn’t get curious, or worse some coyotes or something coming to our neck of the woods sniffing for trouble. This is the story I chose to start this off. I hope to add more regularly, as I have lived an eventful 28 years. Given the nature of human memory I will never say that my recollections are 100% accurate, but I will try to recall them as accurately as I am able.

May the Force Be with You.

#truestory #storytelling

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healthandfitnessrecipes-blog · 6 years

Text

A Decade of Living With RA

https://healthandfitnessrecipes.com/?p=6945

I've been so busy recently that it would have been really easy to let this anniversary slip by unnoticed - maybe part of me even wanted to. But I am now 35 years old and I have officially been living with RA for ten years.

I've also been blogging about RA for a decade - and I've come a long way in that time. Some of you have been with me almost since day one, some of you found me years later, or maybe you just discovered this blog recently. But, for anyone who wants to remember or learn what the last ten years have been like for me, you can take the trip down memory lane that I just took myself:

Year 1

Year 2

Year 3

Year 4

Year 5

Year 6

Year 7

Year 8

Year 9

I have to admit, re-reading the first few years after my diagnosis was rather difficult for me to look back on. While I've certainly accepted RA as a part of my life at this point - and I know it has even helped me identify new passion and a career helping others who live with chronic illnesses - reading the words I wrote ten years ago reminded me about who I was back then. And how unbelievably hard it was to watch my life change so drastically. How monumentally frustrating it was to live in a body I felt I couldn't control. How scary it was to look in the future and feel like I had no idea where I was going and what my life might be like. But I've come a long way since then.

Today my career as a freelance health writer has continued to expand. This year I wrote for RhuematoidArthritis.net, Rheumatology Network, Women Magazine, NewLifeOutlook RA, Arthritis Today magazine, and Rheumatology Nurse Practice. I was interviewed by Healthline, did a Healthline video interview, was featured in the U.S. Pain Foundation's INvisible Project, was included in a list of health advocates to follow by HealthCentral and another list by Everyday Health, and I had the opportunity to share my voice a few times in Arthritis Today. I've now been listed as one of Healthline's Best Rheumatoid Arthritis Blogs for seven years in a row.

Over the course of my tenth year with RA I volunteered at JA Camp and traveled to conferences and advisory boards in Dallas, New York, San Diego, Phoenix, Austin, and Chicago. I launched into public speaking a bit more this year too - something I hope to continue doing going forward.

My Facing Forward series finally came to a close after interviewing over 100 individuals living with invisible chronic illnesses, representing more than 110 different diseases and and conditions. My Mamas Facing Forward Facebook group has grown to 900+ members from all over the world and continues to grow. I was very excited to receive a grant to launch mamasfacingforward.com - which will hopefully be up and very running soon!

Most important of all, we welcomed a baby girl to our family in January!

We had a bit of a rough start - as I had to be re-hospitalized for three days when mZL was less than two weeks old, and she had to spend a night at the Children's Hospital at four weeks - but at least my third pregnancy was significantly easier than my first two.

It is absolutely amazing to see how much the research has changed between my first baby and my third. With OZL, I struggled through pregnancy essentially untreated and stopped nursing him at three months to start taking Enbrel again. With CZL, I struggled through most of my pregnancy untreated until things got so bad that I was forced to re-start Enbrel during my third trimester, even though the safety data wasn't as good at the time as it is now. I breastfed him while taking Enbrel, but I think my RA had gotten so out of control during pregnancy that it still wasn't enough, and I weaned him at three months also.

With mZL I switched from Ritixan to Cimzia prior to trying to conceive. I stayed on Cimzia all through my pregnancy and I'm still taking it today. mZL is now five months old and we are still breastfeeding. I've had to add a bit of prednisone (my favorite!) to the Cimzia to keep me functional, but for the most part I am actually doing quite well physically. I think this is primarily thanks to being able to actually treat my RA while going through pregnancy and while breastfeeding postpartum.

I am so glad that moms and moms-to-be today have many more options for actually controlling their diseases while pregnant and breastfeeding, and I truly hope things continue to improve for mamas going forward. This quick advance in data is in large part due to women being willing to participate in studies. I participated in two - one for Enbrel, one for Cimzia - through Mother to Baby, and if you are considering pregnancy with a chronic illness I highly encourage you to do the same! You might even end up helping yourself down the line!

While I am doing pretty well physically, those of you who follow me on Instagram may know that I've been struggling a bit emotionally. Between the needs of three kids during summer vacation and breastfeeding longer than ever before (which is both wonderful and challenging!) and trying to keep up with my work despite very little summer childcare and the never-ending housework I think it's easy to see how I've been a bit overwhelmed lately!

I retreated to the mountains alone this weekend (which is how I found time to write this post in the first place!) and I know after this break I'll feel a bit better about being home this evening. (I'll certainly be happy to ditch the pump in favor of my baby girl!) I have to admit, while August 15 seemed ridiculously early for the school year to start, now I'm sort of feeling like it can't come soon enough! Jokes aside, I do think things will calm down and settle into a good routine once school starts again. I'll have more time to focus on my work and myself, and that will be very good. And we all love baby mZL to bits so I couldn't possibly have it any other way.

Here's to the next decade! From This Point. Forward.

Credits: Original Content Source

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fmlfpl · 6 years

Photo

Lineup Lamentations - GW22 - Happy New Year Edition

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week.

Extra long lambs this week because it’s a podless GW and I guess we have many things to say as well as many doubts. Ok here we go :)

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Lukaku GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY TEAM, Paul, and RLC

IN (For -4 points): Quaner, Alli, and Eriksen

The Jesus injury gave me some pause over the plan to go heavy on Spurs attack for the double but in the end decided meh fuck it. I can always go for Aguero after he plays Liverpool if it seems a prime thing to do. A little bit worried about City scoring for fun without Dilva and possibly without Kevin. My team would still have the same problem of being thin if I did go for Aguero in for Lukaku so am gonna restructure and get in there with a big move this week for the double.

Alli was automatic as I've been feeling how he's been looking lately. Eriksen v Son was a close one for me. Son explosive, but has the slight shout of being rested whereas Eriksen seems pretty nailed regardless. Going to go for the minutes play here. Little bit of nostalgia for me as well getting in Alli and Eriksen who were in my GW1 squad and did me well back in the day.

I am a bit worried about Quaner playing this GW but at this point I just want to get the cheapest guy possible and he seems a good first choice lad. Also feel like Huddy aren't the hugest shout to significantly reinforce in the transfer window in attack so hopefully he keeps it up.

I'm keeping Stephens over RLC for the simple reason that RLC could be knocked and miss out. Points this GW feels enough of a reason to keep Stephens over RLC. RLC looks like a really bad FPL pick with Benteke in and him playing in a more reserved role anyway so he's off. Had a couple of tidy returns for me so thanks bro but see you later.

GK:

Adrian goes. Woah. First non-Pope time at GK for me for a long fucking time. Feels weird but also good. DGW keeper always a good guy to have and WBA at home seems as good a clean shout as you can have at this moment. If he gets 8 or so points it would be very nice.

DEF:

Five at the back again for me. Triple Chelsea defense are in as per....Christensen, Azpil, and Moses....which much to my fucking nightmare was only 1 Chelsea defender in GW21 after Conte subbed Moses before 60'.... it’s their first difficult on paper fixture since I've gone with the treble. But, looking at how fucking shit Arsenal have been a clean doesn't seem that insane here.

Phil Jones god and legend of the baps is the most auto thing of life. Preached patience with United defense on the last pod and it came in straight away which was tidy. Everton are the worst attack possible so fuck them. Clean seems likely.

Last guy is the Dunk of Lewishire. Dunk and BHA defense has been a massive unheralded star of the FPL season for me and any of you who have been rotating a BHA defender for some time. They welcome the completely rudderless and injured to fuck Bournemouth side. Get in Lew my absolute son.

MID:

New old friends Alli the middle fingering diving cunt is back in alongside Eriksen. Not sure how long I'll keep, or who will get fucked off first, but Coutinho will be coming in soon for one of these lads. Just bought lottery tickets in Spurs attack and if they are able to put in between 5-7 goals over the two games I'll be absolutely BUOOZZINNNNN and also probably flying. Kill to fly, fly to kill.

Salah looks like he's a little bit dead, but since I bought him at 9m removing him was not even a small consideration. Will just have to rely on the bench if he doesn't go.

Finally, Raz is in and looks a dead cert for a start after not featuring today. Good guy Raz.

FWD:

Just the solitary Harold this GW. Standard 541 here at FMLFPL HQ nothing to see lads.

BENCH ORDER:

Quaner, Stephens, Niasse.

Bunch of lads. Who knows who will play and who will not play but I have three guys on the bench so getting a full team out looks very likely. Good job by me.

CAP:

TRIPLE CAP Kane.

It's time for me. I want to use the chip on Kane and the fixtures are as good as you can hope for. No assurances that Spurs will have another DGW and even though there is 1 day off between I am willing to take the risk using the chip this GW. It will allow me to pump the WC the week OF a future DGW instead of the week before which is pretty tidy and honestly I think we overrate the chips a LOT. Sure they are good, but it's not the end all be all of life.

I think illness whatever is dumb and I'm willing to risk that he will make it for both games. He's on fucking form and has just had a nice rest. Harry will Harry, triple cap will triple cap. Let's go Kane drink the nectar of the hat trick gods and keep pumping the goal with your jizzum.

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Richarlison my love and Lejeune the fuck

IN (For my second -4 of the season): Arnie and Ogbonna

Are you not supposed to have a bevy around a recovering alcoholic? I’d imagine not. Or smoke fags around someone trying to quit? Probably poor form, that. But here we are. I’ve been enabled... :)

I took a hit, my first hit of the season last week, and it resulted in a net +6 points (including the -4) and a nice green arrow. MY BLOOD IS PUMPING IN THIS MOMENT!!!!!!!

Hit #2 quickly followed today and oo baby I’m feeling nice... My hands were shaking and I had the cold sweats with a beautiful woman in the nude calling out to me... but I slighted her and instead looked up West Ham defensive statistics and compared Arnie to Lanzini for a couple of hours and took the -4; the only thing that’s real...........!!!

Richar my beautiful Brazilian lover our fling has flung. Obrigado for the points mate but you have City and there’s a double gameweek on the cards. Two fixtures, albeit one of them bad vs. Spuds, and I just had to go for Arnie.

Lejeune being dead in what will be the most heavily rotated GW of the season with Salah already ruled out and RLC probably missing out lead me to the second transfer and the -4; I just needed some fucking guys. The upside is there to make up the -4 so I’m tagging along with everybody else and it leaves me with four doublers for the DGW which feels pretty nice. So let us go.

GK:

DDG and United up against the Eve feels like as easy a cleansheet fixture as you can get. Tidy 7 pointer from him last GW and faith restored.

DEF:

Kicking off with Jones up against the same blues of Eve should be easy workings. And you know he’s Phil Jones king of the fucking BONES. 9 pointer what else is new. Good to have you back Philip.

Otamendi straight the fuck in last week with an 8 pointer as he seems to do every week. Took the shittiest ass pen from Milivojevic but I will happily cash those points in. Ota such a great pick - maybe a double up on the way soon with Stoner. Would make a lot of sense to not keep clean here with like a Richarlison brace or something since I transferred him out but ya know, whatever.

Christensen I have starting but who knows if Conte will follow suit. No one knows a thing about Christensen our Chelsea darling boy and if he can find a way into the 11 but we can hope. He’s top quality but blah - it’s concerning - getting another Chelsea defensive asset is at least 1 million away so it’s fucking hard to do. Come on BOD get in there bro. I don’t care it’s Arsecast, you start Chelsea defenders confidently in all fixtures. That’s how they do it.

Lastly new lad Ogbanzo beans should go twice for me. If they clean against West Brom will just be suuuuuch a huge boost of life. If he’s on 2 or less points going into Spurs will feel sad and bad. Meh. Never know. Two bites of the apple get me something Oggy.

MID:

Gonna start with the man the myth the Egyptian fucking god legend Momo Salah. He’s in - of course he’s in would be foolish and disrespectful to bench him - but Klopp has ruled him out for 2ish weeks which is a bummer. So he’ll probably be back for Man. City but we’ll get more autosubs in this week. At the end of Lambs we’ll each post our benches too since it’s going to be rotational hell.

Raz goes straight in Home Watford sexual fixture on the table - didn’t start earlier today so should be in vs. Watford and hauling as usual. Although we’ll see how good/bad City’s attack looks with no Kev and no Daveed (who knows with Daveed).

SUON my Korean boo, my differential treater, been a huge part of my run of greens these Heung-Min points. Got a double fixture on the cards for this GW and I’m just hoping for a combined more then 90 minutes - that’s all we can realistically hope for. And he’s been fantastic. Love him. Should bring in some points.

And Arnie the new guy in the squad. Scary to transfer in a guy who you might want to transfer out very very soon - never feels quite right - but he’s got a double this week and is bang on form starting OOP up top. Lots of shots and big chances and creating shit and touches in the box - TIT ME ARNOLD ARNAUTOVIC!

FWD:

Two guys leading the line in this moment. Alvy Morata the absolute shit-house I don’t know how fucking hungover he must’ve been to not get anything in a 5-0 thrashing but fucking hell. At least I didn’t cap him and avoid that nightmare but I still rate him - but it’s troubling. He might have to go soon. For now I’m just chilling he’s still a good pick and nailed and whatever. Arsecast can’t defend much.

The other guy is Lord Harold of Kane. He’s an absolute must this week - the most must of any guy in any week that I can remember. He was sick a few days ago he’s probably fucking fine. Maybe I’ll be awake until 5-6am and see some sort of additional news but even without the news I think Kane is fine. I expect somewhere around 150 minutes from him this GW and with those fucking fixtures that is pretty insane to think that he will not at least double return... I mean no one is guaranteed points but fucking hell Harold is a great horse to bet on.

BENCH ORDER:

I’m sat on Duffy, Quaner, RLC in this moment.

RLC is a problem and think he should be third on most benches. Duffy good shout at a clean probably coming in for Mo and then Quaner likely to get some minutes even he doesn’t start for a one point cameo if anyone else is rested/rotated in my team. Feels fine.

CAP:

DON’T YOU MEAN..... TRIPLE CAP!?!?!!?!??!?! OOKKKKKKKK LET’S FUCKKKKKKKK IT’S ON BABABYBABBBABABABY!!!!!!!

You already fucking know. Kane the most nailed cap of any life but Triple Cap - I’m going there - fuck it. I’m here I’m there...

Earlier today I really wasn’t feeling good about the triple cap - mostly just apprehension that everything is coming too fast and I’m gonna fuck something up. It’s been a crazy festive period and I’m just like ok, I need to chill, the green arrows are flowing, I just need to fucking chill.... But fuck that shit.

I struggle to come up with any STRONG arguments to NOT triple cap Kane and that’s where we’re left. The only two arguments to not triple cap Kane are:

1. Only one day off between fixtures - can he really play significant minutes in both with one day off.

2. Illness gate / yellow flag / no news.

But those are fucking REEEAAAALLLY weak arguments for me. Illness gate I mean that was a few days ago now. He’s probably fucking fine and not sick anymore like an asshole - and he has Monday off as well to rest up. And speaking of rest up I think he’ll just have to play 70ish in both (maybe more if they’re not winning) and tough it out because he’s not a fucking baby he’s a fucking man. And he’s resting now and he’ll rest after.

The arguments FOR triple capping him in my opinion are pretty overwhelming. Best guy, check, incredible form, check, most important player for the team, check, on pens, check, exceptional fixtures, check... What more do you want? Goal involvement, check, mouth breather, check, childhood GOONA, check, one season wonder, check, golden boot merchant, check.

LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

#FML FPL #FMLFPL #FPL #Fantasy Premier League #Lineup Lamentations

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