#There were 3 other people exactly with the same problem at the bank
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Mindfuck (Part 1/2)
Vash the Stampede x Reader
Another draft for the fanfic I wanted to try writing down. Again not edited bc I am still at work just writing down ideas. This time Imma split it in two parts tho, one focusing on exploring readers own defensiv strategies while also bonding with our beloved ex insurance worker and now reporter Meryl :3
The second part is again some fluff with Vash obviously and I might also trow in some Wolfwood and or Roberto interactions for the sake of writing them.
I still need to do more researche and draw more concepts for this fanfic to actually start so imma just bomb you with scenarious that I might or might not will later trow in the real book. Also yes I will probebly trow in isekai reader but thats just an idea for now
Enjoy!
The tension in the air was almost suffocating. The room was painfully silent aside from the faint sobbing of children and their mothers trying calm them down, voice trembling in fear.
Y/N knew this scenario more than she did like to. The bandits that held the bank hostage that she and Merly entered some hours ago were having an heated argument in back of the room while the other hostages nerves were tested at the fearful image that was infront them. The bandits had shot one of their own comrades that didn't want to share with them and now was laying dead in his own puddle of blood.
Human brains worked the same no matter which dimension they were in. It didn't matter if it was on Earth or here on Gunsmokes Criminals were always mentally scared beeings, so if stressed some tended to use the only form of problem solving they knew.
That just happened to be violance.
Back at home before she crashed the dessert here some weeks prior she was studying exactly that, using her observant nature and her deep interest in crime to become a profiler.
In a world where Guns and Violance was dominating the planet having the abilitys she possesed, analyzing heavior and seeing the patterns while also manipulating people to let her be, that was her ultimate weapon to stay alive. since the only other weapon she had was a metalic pipe and that barely worked against a fully armed bandits.
She stayed silent most of the event, looking around and calmly observing her surroundings. Originally there were three bandits. Two dominat ones and one subbmissiv guy. Right as they started this whole trouble she knew from experience some shit would eventually go down since most of the time criminals only could operate in groups with one dominat member that so happen to have submissiv sidekicks, so seeing the two man bicker over the leader role already set of the alarm bells in her mind.
Meryl meanwhile was also surprisingly calm, or at least she tried to be. The reporter wasn't used to beeing in the middle of conflict. Since she joined Roberto, Vash had always been the center of attetion which made it a bit easier for her to stay back and have less stress. But Vash wasn't here and she was stuck with the only other person on this god forsaken planet that was similar a danger magnet than the blond man himself.
But that didn't stop her from keeping herself cool. Seemingly more nervous than her partner beside her but still in a better mental state than the other hostages. For Vash for this matter, who was outside with Roberto and wolfwood. The trio hid in a alleyway near the bank, carefully watching the sheriff and the bankers wife talk about the situation. The blond man was basically a nervous wreck and blamed himself for the capture. Telling himself he should have gone with the two girls or at least get inside to save there asses. But he didn't let that get through, while his anxious side was bascially ripping his brain apart the gunslinger and rational side of him was already working on a plan.
Y/N didn't exactly know that but she predicted that he would do something like that. He cared for people too much to just let a hostage happen under his watch. But she knew as much as she wanted to, she couldn't put all the afford on getting them out on the boys. Which is why she already had an idea.
Prior to them walking off to the bank Roberto gave Meryl one of his darengers, which she thankfully had hidden so good in her coat that as the bandits demanded all weapons to be given to them they couldn't find one on her. And since she was the only one currently possesing a weapon it was her job to take out the leader while she herself took the side kick.
The screaming of the leader become loud and obnoxious enough that he had all the attetion of the room, so she could whisper to merly without anyone noticing.
"I think I got a plan" she whispered as her eyes were locked on the duo. "You think? What are we supposed to do its two armed gigants against us" she hissed silently in the (h/cs)nettes ears. Y/N hummed agreeing as answer as her eyes roamed the area. "You still have the gun Roberto gave you right" her voice dropping almost inaudible as the word gun rolled of her tongue, playing even more save no one would notice their conversation. Meryl softly nodded before Y/N spoke up again. "When I give you a signal you shoot the gun out of the bigger guys hand. Try not to aim for his fatal spots until really necessary. I take care of the second one..." she laughed air and soundless before looking at me. "He also has a gun how do you want to do that?! As soon as I hurt his boss we are swiss cheese!"
Carefully observing the smaller man as he started to nervously chew on his fingers she smirked. The gun in his hands he held firmly but his finger never was even near the trigger. He flinched every time his boss was pointing at one if the hostages when he spilled empty threats and ealier as he shoot the other bandit he couldnt even look at the corpse.
"That is gonna be childsplay trust me"
-
It didn´t take long until the argument had finally stopped and the bandits attetion was back at their hostages presence. No one dared to move. They didnt need to rope them up since all of the people were scared, scared too shitless to even try to resist. Most silently sobbed, some prayed, others sat in their corners and accepted their envidible doom and Meryl and Y/N meanwhile had gotten their hands on one of the belongings of the bankers inside.
Working in a bank all day takes a lot of time and nerves since its takes full concentration out of someone to carefully count money and take care of the safes in the back. So it wasnt surprising one of them had empty bottles laying around. Collecting laying around juck was less noticable than for example asking the staff memembers for say cigerettes and lighters. It wasnt much but it was enough to cause the bandits to panic.
The leader kicked one of the workers in the face as he held his gun to the poor mans head. “you useless fucks are even less worth than the little to no cash you have laying around in this bullshit bank! Not even the Sheriff wants to pay for your pathetic asses! Fucking useless shits!” he growled in rage as the banker cried and plead for his life. “Please..Please! I have a wife and children at home! Please do..don’t kill me” he maniged to croak out between sobs.
The Bandit puts his finger on the trigger and grinned, in a widely spread and digusting smile. His eyes were could and his eyebrows twitched in amusment. He was getting a kick out of seeing the mans fear, begging him to not pull the trigger. Y/N knew that face and she cursed silently in her head. The man didn’t care for the money anymore. After killing his teammate he started to get a kick out of it.
He started to like killing people.
“fuck it” the girl growled digusted before jumping up, carefully having moved to the blind spot carefully over the past minutes, before trowing the bottle as hard as she could at the back of the leaders head, stunning him for a second as Meryl dashed forward and shot right trough the hand that was holding the gun.
A loud and painful cut trough the silence as blood spat everywhere, leaving the mans head mangled and impaled as the reporter takled his screaming form to the ground and took his gun. Holding both the deringer and the mans own gun to his head, hissing in his hear to stay down or else he would have two more holes in his head to speak shit out from. The other robber meanwhile started to panic and point his gun at her friends head. “Get....get of....off him or else...else I will shoot!” he stuttered out. His eyes were wide and fearful but also paniced. Y/N meanwhile walked slowly between them. Having the gun of the panicking robber pressed against her forhead. As she calmly smiled.
Her calm starring made him seemingly shake more, having the finger on the trigger non stop as he blabbeled more nonsense, trying to threath her. But it was barely understandble english since his stuttering made him almost mess up every word. If she didn´t knew better he almost looked like beeing moments away from having a panic attack.
Shaking, heavy and unsteady breating, increased heartbeat and blurred vision by tears.
Yeah she knew all this systems all too well from her time back home.
Meryl seemed also to sweat, becoming more nervous for her friends safety as she carefully held the man down, recalling her words from ealier.
“childsplay? you are insane!”
She chuckled as she smiled at her “maybe you need to be a little insane to survive here. Ok listen I will stun the leader so you can get a good aim for his hand and dash to hold him down. And no matter what you hear, concentrate on holding the guy down and don’t turn around to me, ok?”
She swallowed hard as she mumbled “you are so fucked up” clenching her eyes shut as she forced herself to concentrate fully on holding the guy down, not looking if her friend would soon be silenced as a shoot would ring.
But it never came. The nervous mumbling of the bandit was interupted by a cutting, clear and cocky sounding.
“you won´t shoot me, you don’t have the guts to do soo”
The gun fell from his almost forcefully shaking hands, right before the cocky grinning Y/N grabbed him and pulled him forwards.
Punching him right in the face, covering her fist with lots of his blood, probebly breaking his nose, before his limp body hit the ground.
---
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FOP - Where Family Begins and Ends - Part 4
TW: Brief description of throwing up blood and growths
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5
Lunch had been provided by Maria, who made a point to stay out of everyone’s way, especially her children. Vesely stood in the doorway between the viewing room and the lobby, watching Jason as he and Will talked with Vivian on the couch. His two former lovers looked happier than he had ever seen them before. Alma walked up beside her brother with a sparse plate of food.
“Have you spoken with Viv before today?” Alma asked.
“No,” Vesely said shortly.
“She seems more lively today. That’s good.”
“May I ask why you and Enzo are so friendly with my old partners?”
“Because they’re better than you in every way.” Alma pointed at the trio. “Viv is the sweetest lady I’ve ever met, aside from Mother.”
“And Jason’s a literal angel,” Enzo said, walking up beside them. “A god trapped in a mortal form, that’s what Father used to say. You were a goddamn fool to give him up, Gabe.”
Vesely clenched his fist. “I was trying to bring him back.”
“By killing his son?”
He bit his tongue, still staring at Jason and his boy, the family Vesely couldn’t provide for him. Alma’s voice shot through him like a bullet.
“You are the pettiest man I know, Gabe. Things could actually go your way for once if you would just stop and consider the fact that you’re the problem.”
“Why, thank you,” he hissed. “Since you’re feeling generous enough to give me advice, perhaps you’d like to help out on this plan to pass on Father’s legacy.”
Alma glared at him, and Enzo stepped between them.
“That’s not fair, Gabe. It’s not her fault. We all tried to give him grandchildren, and it didn’t work.”
“You went to a donor bank and called it a day, and Alma could have adopted— but no, it was just too hard for either of you. Everything fell back onto me. I had to give up the man I loved to carry your weight, I had to find a solution, and that’s exactly what I did. The company works, the serums work— Father’s dream will live on, thanks to our patients. If you have a problem with our progress, you should have stepped up before I lost my daughter.”
“You’re being pathetic,” Alma said. “You can’t blame us for Paisley, or for Jason.”
Vesely rested his hands against the doorframe. “Just remember the next time you accuse me of ruining my own chances— If either of you had contributed, at all, Jason would be a Vesely.”
“Perhaps it’s best that he’s not,” Enzo said. “He seems perfectly happy without us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Don’t be delusional,” Alma snapped. “All the times we’ve seen him, not once has he ever smiled at us the way he smiles at that boy. He’s more family to Jason than we are.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! You weren’t even born into this family, to begin with!”
Enzo’s hand flew to Vesely’s throat, knocking him backwards as he tried to catch his breath. The people around them gasped and ducked for cover, fearing a fight between Sal’s most powerful children.
“You don’t get to talk,” Enzo said. “Alma’s been around more than you ever have.”
Vesely removed one of his gloves. “You know better than to fight me, brother.”
“You stopped being my brother when you killed our father.”
They charged at each other, completely ignorant of the rest of their family who watched in horror. Their fists were inches away from each other… and then, they were frozen. Both men grasped their own wrists, hearts pounding in their chests as they realized they couldn’t move. Everyone’s gaze turned to the young boy in the middle of the room, with his jacket discarded on the floor, and his sleeves rolled up to reveal the grotesque disease that lived under his skin. Will had the same sharp stare as his godfather, his blue eyes full of fury.
The longer he held them apart, the heavier he felt. His knees started to buckle, until he finally fell to the floor, but he still kept his grip on the Vesely brothers.
“Don’t you have any shame?” he hissed. “This is a funeral, and you’re about to tear each other’s throats out. Does your father mean nothing to you?”
Vesely held his free hand out. “Will, you need to calm down—”
“I’ll calm down when you both back the fuck away!”
Enzo flinched. “Just do it, Gabe!”
He begrudgingly relented, and Will finally released his grip. The recoil from his powers was immediate. His head throbbed, and a bitter taste burned his throat, drawing out cough after cough. The dark, melted remains of infected veins spilled onto the floor in droplets, as though they were simply bits of blue paint spilled on the wood. Will glared up at the Vesely siblings, his voice already hoarse from coughing as he spoke.
“You guys are ridiculous. You argue about who’s at fault, but the truth is that you’re all screwed up. If you really had a problem with your brother’s work, you would have shown up and shut it down already.” Will spit out more melted growths. “No, you’re just upset because he took your father’s power. If it weren’t for that, you’d be perfectly fine with all the kids that go missing in town for his experiments. You’d be fine with the parasite that’s eating my lungs as long as it didn’t belong to your dad.”
Enzo stared at the ground guiltily. Vesely tried to approach Will, but he was pushed back by a wave of energy that drew another cough from Will’s throat.
“William—”
“I wanted to be normal, sir. I only started fighting because you made me. I wasn’t trying to be a hero or a god… I just wanted my dad back.”
The eyes of the other guests bore into the back of his head. Now, they could see the extent of the damage that Vesely had inflicted on him, the damage caused by Sal’s vision. The Vesely household would forever be stained with this young boy’s blood.
Will’s jacket fell back on his shoulders, drawing off the chill that was starting to run through his arms. Jason stayed with him on the floor, holding a napkin to his mouth as his coughing fit subsided. He shivered from head to toe, unable to find the strength to stand again. Everything in his body felt like ice.
In one swift movement, Jason rose to his feet with Will in his arms. Lifting the boy was a painfully effortless feat. No one in the room said a word as Jason’s pale eyes fell on Vesely, filled with rage and disgust.
“We’re going home,” he said. “I hope it was worth it, dragging him out here like this, because I’m never letting you take him again.”
“Jason—”
“He’s not yours, and neither am I. The only reason I stay with you is to fix what you did to my son. You’re nothing to me, Gabe, and you’ll never have a place in my heart again.”
Jason turned to Maria, who looked at him with big sad eyes. He bowed his head to her.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Maria. I’ll try to talk to you more. Thank you for having us.”
As he walked to the door, his eyes met Vivian’s. She nodded once and opened the door for him, never uttering a word. The Vesely family watched Jason carry his son off the porch and down the sidewalk to a small black car. Will stumbled into the front seat, trying to find an angle for his head that didn’t hurt so terribly. Jason opened the glove compartment and handed something to him— his mask and medicine tank.
“I made sure to grab it when I left, just in case. I’ll sort Gabe out later for leaving it behind.”
“It’s my fault for not grabbing it—”
“You shouldn’t have been brought here, in the first place. It’s not your fault, love.”
Will relaxed his shoulders. “Thank you.”
Jason closed the door carefully and walked around the driver’s side. Will took slow, deep breaths from his mask, taking in as much air as his lungs would allow. When they were both settled, Jason pressed his head against the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and said nothing for a good minute. Will watched him as he took another breath of his medicine, over and over until the nauseous buzzing of the Infection disappeared. Jason leaned back against his seat and carefully opened his eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
Will kept the mask against his heart. “Better.”
“Good, very good.”
His grip on the steering wheel loosened. When he met Will’s gaze, a small smile started to emerge.
“I say we take the long road home,” he said. “We’ve earned ourselves something large and not at all healthy for us.”
“Like diner shakes?”
Jason grinned. “You read my mind.”
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OC characterization: 3, 12, 14, 15, foooor... Jackson!
3. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC? - well, i don't know if it's "irrational" exactly but he has some pretty intense sensory issues so certain noises will just make him SO upset. cannot stand being in the same room as other people who are eating because the sound of chewing or cutlery clinking/scraping on plates makes him want to commit murder and/or cry.
Jackson tends to get easily annoyed but also gets over it pretty quickly... he'll sulk for a few minutes and then be fine. things happening unexpectedly or mild disappointments can upset him a lot, like finding out he's unexpectedly out of his favorite cereal or something like that...
also, when he acquires his beautiful kitty Cheesecake, he WILL demand that people greet her, and he WILL get mad if they ignore her when they walk past her or she comes into the room.
also a lot of times the degree to which Laurence insists on Following The Rules Because They Are The Rules drives him up the wall. he needs things to make sense, and a lot of the stuff Laurence insists is important just does not make sense to him.
12. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors? - everything about Jackson is confusing to people who don't know him lmao. he's never seen outside without the wrap-around mirrored shades of a celebrity trying to avoid the paparazzi. his gender is ??? and his presentation ranges from "androgynous pajama casual" to "sugar baby being taken on a date to a black tie event" with no apparent rhyme or reason. his response to being spoken to by strangers is to either stare in wide-eyed silence or to immediately begin enthusiastically rambling about whatever topic happens to be on his mind at the moment and he has little to no concept of "conversational norms."
he doesn't interact much with the neighbors except for accompanying Max on his hikes and walks to reduce the chances of someone calling the cops on him for WWB, however he DOES have a number of habits that concern his partners/roommates, such as:
-creeping around in the middle of the night with all the lights off (he sees very well in the dark) to sneak food
-hiding in spaces like under the bed, in the closet, or under the coffee table to chill out and accidentally (or sometimes on purpose) jumpscaring people
-taking care of any and all illnesses or injuries on his own or with his twin's help
14. What thing did your OC’s parents do that your OC wishes they had a better explanation for? - lol. lmao.
uhhh pretty much literally everything, starting with "why did you even decide to have us in the first place?" and going from there. Laurence and Jackson were born to a single trans father who went to some length and expense to get pregnant with them using a sperm bank, and he proceeded to raise them both in the most insane way possible, keeping them incredibly isolated and trying to mold them both into his personal little ideal doll children based on his whack-a-doodle gender norms.
Jackson would especially personally like to know why he was the target of so much more outright physical violence than Laurence was, and why their dad just seemed to never really like him from the start. they were both horrifically abused, but Jackson's abuse included a degree of open sadism that was much more subtle in Laurence's, and he still doesn't really understand why he was singled out that way in particular.
also, he does NOT get why their dad divided up the chores the way he did. it seems so arbitrary! and even when Laurence (pre-coming out) WANTED to do 'boy chores', their dad wouldn't let him! absolute bullshit!
he just really wants an explanation for like... his entire life.
15. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been? - oh SUPER often. Jackson dissociates a ton, at times severely enough that he'll lose hours-long chunks of time.
the biggest problem, for the most part, is that he'll spend a while doing things and then just not remember what he did during that time, which freaks him out. sometimes he'll just kind of end up sleeping or doing nothing all day, just sort of sitting and staring or wandering vaguely around.
he's also gotten VERY lost trying to do things like go to the store or go outside on his own, where he forgets what he's doing or where he's going or why he's there or where he is and gets turned around and confused. it makes it hard for him to hold conversations because he can't remember what people just said or what he was going to say, and often struggles to really verbalize his thoughts at all (or even HAVE thoughts.)
he's hurt himself doing stuff around the house because he forgot he was holding something sharp or touched something hot or things like that. on occasion he's burned food or left a burner on or things like that, which used to get him punished when he and Laurence lived with their dad.
his memory of his own life up until his dad died and he and Laurence moved in with Max and Emmy is really fragmented and spotty. there's a lot of stuff he just doesn't remember at all, including some specific things that happened to him while Laurence was away at college that kind of suddenly come back after a couple of years which are pretty hard for him to process and deal with.
he needs a lot of reminders about what to do/house rules/where people are/what their routines are, and he often ends up leaving himself notes to tell himself what he was doing because otherwise he'll forget later. he also often will forget that someone left and need to be reassured that it's okay and they're coming back.
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3.24.24
You know what’s fucked up? I’ve always been there for you and your problems. I’ve tried to help you dig yourself out of your situation, out of your problem. I’ve given you advice to prevent yourself from digging yourself a bigger hole. At the end of the day, I know that shit went out the other ear cause you still went ahead and STILL lent your money out to other people. You’re fortunate to have some solvable problems that people can help you with. I spend all this time to think of ways to help you out, just for you to blatantly ignore me — for what?
Me on the other hand? None of my problems can be solved, but some comfort/support would’ve been greatly appreciated. Sure, it seems like nothing could be done with my grandmother’s passing. Seems like you couldn’t do anything about me getting sick for 3 days either. But the very least you could’ve done to make me feel better is to spend time with me, making sure that I’m okay. As my boyfriend, you couldn’t even fucking deliver that. I’m so fucking disappointed. I brag about you to everyone about how amazing you are, how incredibly kind and generous you are as a person. And that’s exactly how people see you. But behind the scenes???? You barely give me the time and attention that I ask for — even during this difficult week, I was shown that I wasn’t worthy of your fucking attention. It makes me feel so fucking sick to my stomach, it’s fucking insane.
Sure, you spent time with the boys because you were depressed, to distract yourself away from your problems. But remember that at the end of the day, you’re in a never-ending loop, a problem that will never fucking end because you keep handing out money like you’re the fucking bank. Remember that your problem is a problem that can be solved. Your cause to your depression can be solved. But yet, nothing can bring my grandmother back.
I don’t even ask for much. I just want your love and attention. You keep apologizing for not having the money to love me. I keep telling you that what I desire isn’t money. I don’t know how many times I have to fucking drill the same shit into your fucking head. I don’t know what’s going on up there — if you’re even comprehending anything I’m saying to you. I decided to date you because you showed to me in the beginning that you were DIFFERENT from other gamers. You showed to me that you were CAPABLE of changing and improving for the better.
At the end of the day, I just feel like I’ve been lied to. All these empty promises and apologies. We’ve been through the same arguments countless of times. How many times does it take for you to realize that if you can’t show me that you’re husband material, there is no point in any of this? Why do I keep on getting toyed with? Is this a fucking game to you? Cause I’m not a game. I’m not another body count. I just want to be treated right. Why is that so fucking hard? Deadass why am I begging for the bare minimum from someone’s son like please, I don’t want to keep on doing this. When are you going to start taking me seriously? I fucking hate my life right now. I fucking just want to end it.
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Before the Move
Preparing to study abroad in Spain was turning out to be harder than I originally thought. The visa application was relatively easy, but the interesting part was that I had to pick up my visa in person at the consulate, which is in Miami. Thankfully my extended family lives in Miami so I had a place to stay and good company. The hardest part of the relocation process was finding housing. UC3M does not have many in college residences and as a second semester student, the residences are already occupied by the full year students. UC3M has two main campuses: Leganes, for the engineering students, and Getafe for all the other students. As a biomedical engineering student my main campus is Leganes, but there was a scarce amount of rentable residences around the area. It was partially my fault for only looking for housing two months ahead of time and many residences were already filled up. I was able to find a reasonably priced residence around the area of Getafe, and the plus was that many people who lived in the same building as me were also students. Getafe is around 20 minutes away from Leganes by metro so it wasn't a terrible choice. Another problem was with banking. I again waited very late to take out a travel credit card (helps with having no foreign currency fees and gaining points to get free travel) and had to rush the card in order to get it before I left. Both of my main problems could have been prevented if I had planned more ahead and done them earlier, so I recommend not leaving these things to the last minute.
The reality of me actually going to Madrid hit me when I started to look at the timetable of classes at UC3M. Class times at UC3M are set up specifically for majors and the semester they are in. UC3M has no equivalent to Carolina Core and so students have set classes every semester for their major. UC3M recommends exchange students to stick with classes in their major and semester so that class times won’t overlap. It's hard to find a class from year 3 of your major that doesn’t overlap with a class from year 2. As a non-EU exchange student I had the option to take classes outside of my major if I wanted to, but of course it is hard to find classes that don’t overlap with the two engineering classes I needed to take. UC3M doesn’t have a program similar to Schedule Planner and so you have to go through every class in a database to look at the day and times they are offered and make sure they don’t cross with other classes. I spent a good deal of time setting up my ideal schedule and many backup schedules in case the classes I wanted filled up. Exchange students are only able to register for classes a few days before classes start, and regular students at UC3M register before. For me, my registration date is January 25th and the first day of classes is January 30th. This has caused me anxiety over thinking I won’t be able to get the classes I want. You must know exactly how to register for classes before your date to have the best chances to get the classes you want. For now, my schedule has given me Monday off and my main engineering classes are only offered late in the afternoon.
As I was getting to Madrid a week before my classes started, I researched tourist attractions in the city and tours I could do during this time. Some of the main things I found were to tour the Royal Place, go to a flamenco show, visit the Reina Sofia museum (Guernica by Pablo Picaso is housed here), relax at the Parque Retiro, and go on day trips to Toledo and Segovia. I also found an amazing company that does free tours in Spanish called Civitatis. Madrid has excellent public transport and has a seven day tourist card that allows access to all metro zones and buses. As I looked more into the public transport in Madrid, I found that anyone under 26 years of age can get a personal metrocard (worth 4€) and pay €20 monthly for full access to all metro zones and buses in Madrid. This is an amazing deal as those above the age of 26 in Madrid must pay around €113 to have access to all zones of the metro and every trip on the metro costs €1.50. To get the personal monthly metro card you must create an appointment around three to two weeks in advance. I found all this information in a website called Citylife Madrid. The website also has information about finding housing, what to know before you arrive in Madrid, opening up a Spanish bank account, how to navigate the healthcare in Madrid, and even organizes trips to places in Spain, Portugal, and Morocco for students all around Madrid. Going to Morocco with a tour guide and a group of students is an amazing way to be able to explore the country, but unfortunately they start the trips on Fridays when some students (like me) have classes.
I write all of this currently on a plane to catch my connecting flight to Madrid. I had spent the night jittery and nervous of studying in Madrid. I stayed up until 3am watching travel videos because I couldn’t sleep. Yet, as I look out at the skyline I feel more peaceful and have a sense of excitement to what is yet to come. Going in full force into something is never easy, but it can open so many opportunities just waiting for you to try out.
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Thank you!!
I'm making this post to let you know that all the help you sent will help my family for the rest of the month until the next paycheck. I will delete the post now so there's no confusion and people don't keep donating for years and years. If you can, delete your reblogs so nobody has the links circulating.
I don't think I'll be able to get my money back, so far the bank says they weren't able to but they managed to stop the loan which made me literally start crying in the middle of the bank.
The fraudulent movements are gone from my account in some places but I can see them in the history of my app and guyssss, the loan was for 385k ar pesos but i needed to pay back 1.8 MILLION pesos. (about 19k dollars). I'm glad i didn't check that or I would have died on the spot.
I will never be able to repay you, thank you all so much. I love you.
#Yani got scammed#It's not everything but I'll take it#Thank you for the support and the lovely messages#You guys made me cry quite a bit#I saved all the people who helped and I'm giving you my book when it's finished#If you sent anything on anon just drop me a message#I owe everything to you#And thank you to my friends for keeping me sane#There were 3 other people exactly with the same problem at the bank
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Pink “STOP The EARN IT Act” poster by RoadArchie.
“EARNIT? More Like BurnIt!” and “EARNITAct Moon” Poster by Enigma2Me
For more info and links to other Internet Censorship Bills like RESTRICT Act and Kids Online Safety Act, click here.
WHAT IS THE EARN IT ACT, AND WHAT DOES IT DO?
EDIT: Updated for 2023 reintroduction of EARN IT Act.
It’s an online censorship and mass surveillance act that was introduced back in 2020 ago by Senator Blumenthal and Graham, and was re-introduced in 2022 and now 2023 and is supposedly about protecting children online dealing with material that is deemed “unsafe for children”.
But various online privacy groups and human rights groups such as the ACLU and Fight For the Future have noted that it not only doesn’t protect children, it actually makes them LESS safe while being heavily aimed at attacking encryption. And it’s been re-introduced with most of the changes were extremely minor at best, with the core problems of the bill pretty much being exactly the same as it was back in 2020.
It also bears an uncanny similarity to the EU’s current attempts at the same thing with Chat Control and the Online Safety Bill, as is shown via these two links here:
(Following image credited to EDRI)
Chat Control: The End of the Privacy of Digital Correspondence
The long version is that if it passes:
1) It will ironically and MOST IMPORTANTLY for this bill’s supposed intentions not only making the internet LESS safe for kids, but also making the internet and government less able to deal with child and sexual predators. There is this false lie spread by organizations like NCOSE that platforms do nothing about CSEM online. However, platforms are already liable for child sexual exploitation under federal law. Tech companies sent more than 45 million+ instances of CSAM to the DOJ in 2019 alone, most of which they declined to investigate. This shows that platforms are actually doing everything in their power already to stop CSEM by following already existing laws.
The Earn It Act includes zero resources for proven investigation or prevention programs. If Senator Bluementhal actually cared about protecting youth, why wouldn’t he include anything to actually protect them in his shitty horrible bill? EARN IT is actually likely to make prosecuting child molesters more difficult since evidence collected this way likely violates the Fourth Amendment and would be inadmissible in court.
In other words, the exact OPPOSITE of what they claim this bill will do.
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2) Making the internet (And the United States for that matter) much less secure against hackers, who can now steal your information more easily, because to be able to enforce this act, all websites would be required to stick a backdoor into their site’s defenses for the government to have a guaranteed entry. But in doing so, if you thought people stealing your identity and accessing your accounts for online banking, online work/work at home was already a risk, this will only make things WORSE. It also gives foreign spies an easy entry point as well, thus also making this bill an impending national security nightmare for the USA on TOP of being invasive.
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3) It will put activists, refugees, and abuse survivors in serious danger. Activists and refugees rely on a strong encryption in order to be able to conceal themselves from hostile nations and oppressive regimes. And with how inter-connected the world is online, having back doors in the very websites and apps they depend on to stand against dangerous regimes would only make them far more vulnerable if those regimes manage to hack and find them. Abuse survivors also rely on encryption in order to minimize the possibility of their abusers finding them, something that could be put at serious risk if the EARN IT Act renders said encryption pointless. America has a significant chunk of the world's internet and application sites, so this reckless bill would be only helping dangerous groups harm the very victims this bill is supposedly trying to protect.
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4) LGBT, race-related, and non-EARN IT Act conforming content will likely be targeted and at high risk of being censored.. To make matters worse, this bill is being pushed by a known Hate Group called Morality in Media, a religious fundamentalist group who rebranded themselves into an anti-trafficking organization called NCOSE around 2015.
If this bill passes, they will be likely heavily involved with the commission set up to oversee this bill called NCOSEP. They’ve been noted in the past as having a very shady history, as well as heavy anti-LGBT sentiments and a religious zeal against anyone they deem as promoting any form of sexual expression, or even just MENTIONING sex (yes, that includes sex education).
And it’s being fast-tracked through the Senate as of February 2022. It’s being sent for markup sometimes between now and Thursday, May 4th 2023. We don’t know how long it’ll be until it reaches the Senate Floor, but if it does, the internet as we know it could basically cease to exist. Freedom of speech will be greatly crippled, information can be silenced and censored on a whim, LGBT and minorities will be even more vulnerable without encryption to protect them, and children will not be safe AT ALL.
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TAKE ACTION:
For more info, here is the LinkTree for “Stop EARN IT”.
Spread the Word online! Link to the various petitions and other info-dense articles about this Act below! Twitter Hashtags: #EARNITAct, #STOPTheEARNITAct, #NoEarnItAct
Contact the organizations and online personalities/journalists in this Master List. It contains a list of emails, phone numbers and fax numbers that should hopefully make this a bit easier for you, as well links to other useful information.
Contact your Senators directly. Here is the Call Script and contact numbers for the ones who might be most likely to oppose this Act, although you should still contact your regular Senators.
You Can Also Freely Fax the Call Script using FaxZero. Just remember to make changes so they don’t think it’s being sent by a legion of bots please.
Contact the organizations on these 2020 letters to get them to publicly speak out against the EARN IT Act like they did back then.
PETITIONS:
No Earn It Act
Mozilla’s “Oppose Earn It Act”
Electronic Frontier Foundation’s Take Action
https://twitter.com/fightfortheftr/status/1648331999902400513?s=20
LINKS FOR MORE IN-DEPTH INFORMATION:
https://www.tiktok.com/@kingtaku97/video/7227977176061070634
EARN IT MegaPost: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xcjeKqml8QbqiaTfDiciMQ5AnjxoVHh6T6sAMM5D2EU/edit
https://www.tumblr.com/fullhalalalchemist/715886672338878464/urgent-earn-it-act-is-back-in-the-senate
https://www.techdirt.com/2023/04/18/earn-it-act-is-back-and-its-still-terribly-destructive/
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2023 Posts:
https://twitter.com/fightfortheftr/status/1648690043962400770?s=20
https://twitter.com/evan_greer/status/1643387493402791936
https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/the-earn-it-act-will-be-introduced-to-congress-for-the-third-time-192619083.html
2020 - 2022 Posts (Still relevant mostly):
https://www.americanactionforum.org/insight/unintended-consequences-of-the-earn-it-act/
https://www.inputmag.com/tech/activists-warn-earn-it-act-hurt-lgbtq-communities-most
https://www.article19.org/resources/us-senate-must-drop-the-earn-it-act/
https://twitter.com/fightfortheftr/status/1491094890805358592
https://www.internetsociety.org/news/statements/2022/internet-society-statement-on-earn-it-act-2022/
Medium Article: How the EARNIT Act Hurts Kids
https://www.techdirt.com/2022/02/10/senator-blumenthal-after-years-denial-admits-hes-targeting-encryption-with-earn-it/
https://www.americanactionforum.org/insight/unintended-consequences-of-the-earn-it-act/
https://techfreedom.org/earn-it-act-could-hurt-kids-and-undermine-privacy-of-all-americans/
https://www.oliviawertheimersart.com/blog/earnit-act-hurts-kids
#tumblr#lgbt rights#earn it act#signal boost#lgbt#please boost#online censorship#fandoms#internet censorship#earn it act 2023#stop the earn it act 2023#stop the earn it act#fuck blumenthal#lgbtq#stop internet censorship
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Money Heist // t.h.
(a/n) it's been a while, but omg I am so excited to share this fic with you all. It's a bit different, but I hope you like it <3 and the ⇵ means change in time (so either flashback or back to the present storyline)
word count: 8.3k
warning: (fake gun) violence, cursing, alcohol, planned robberies, crime, stealing, lying (including faking trauma, sorry), assumptions of cheating, police, so slight angst but still v fluff, believe me <3
The most important moments are the ones that make you realize there’s no turning back. You’ve crossed a line, and you’re stuck on the other side now.
The day had gone exactly as you had expected. You sat in your uncomfortable chair, ignoring the cracking of your spine as you dealt with all the same-old customers. Receiving deposits and loan payments, cashing cheques, issuing savings withdrawals, getting yelled at as any of the before mentioned did not manage to work out as planned… it was hell.
The air conditioner in the building had been defective for a week now, and still, nobody had cared enough to call for a repair guy. It hadn’t been a problem at first, but it was slowly becoming that as you were trying to cool yourself down with some scraps of paper, you could find around your desk. You had already received several complaints, as if it was your fault, from people standing in line that it was too damn hot in here. Well, bad luck.
Because of this, it was also very strange to see three men walk into the bank, all dressed in thick jackets, gloves and… ski masks?
Before you could even begin to comprehend what was happening, one of them pulled out a gun from underneath his jacket. The few people around in the bank quickly scurried away into the corners of the room, a few pathetic squeals escaping them. The two other men pulled out their own weapons, and the middle one spoke up with a fake southern drawl.
“Now we aint want no trouble here, so just keep to yo’self and we will be on our way.” He locked eyes with you; at least that’s what it felt like for a second before he had made his way to you. You tried to stand still, ignoring your trembling hands and fast-beating heart. But, of course, this had to happen on a Wednesday afternoon, one of the moments where the bank was at its slowest. And without a doubt, it had to happen right after you had told your co-worker to go and have her break now, at the coffee shop a block away. You had had to convince her that it was okay, that nothing ever happened on days like this. There were four people in the bank, excluding you, so there was really nothing to be worried about.
And of course, it was the one coworker who never kept to her time. Whose 20-minute breaks somehow always ended up being over an hour-long, meaning she would stay gone for a long time.
The man strutted toward you, his shoulders broad and confident. You had just been finishing up with a client, and at the sound of the three men, the poor woman had fallen down to the ground at the side of the counter. From where you had been sitting, you could just about see the top of her perm peaking out. The man stopped his walk a few feet away from you and looked down at the woman. She had clearly gotten the sign and ran off to the other three customers, who were now huddled together in a corner, under the supervision of the two other masked men. You did notice, though, that they didn’t seem to be very bothered by the horrified venerable.
You also just noticed the duffle bags the man in front of you held, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the moment he threw it on the counter. There was glass separating you, but he was still carrying the firearm.
He leaned in, ticking his finger on the glass, telling you to lean forward.
“You gon’ open up that door for me, sweetheart?” He jerked his head toward the door at the end of the row of counters, separating the waiting space and the bank tellers’ desks… but most importantly, also the vaults.
You nodded quickly and made your way over to the door, ignoring the panic button on your way there. You weren’t panicking, after all. The door unlocked with a click, and the robber casually made his way through.
It being a small bank in a middle-of-nowhere town, where nothing ever happened, the security measures were minimal. The only cameras that worked were the ones at the main entrance, and they had the parameter of… not enough. Inside, the only security measure really was you and your supposed nerves of steel that you didn’t really hold on to.
Well, there was one more camera in the building, right at the entrance of the vault, but it was more for the show ever since it stopped working two years ago. It meant that once you were behind that door, no one could see or hear what you were doing.
“I thought you would go with an Aussie accent,” you said, opening up the vault door with your key card. The man pulled off his balaclava, storing it in his pocket and unzipped his jacket.
“Yeah, I chickened out. But you,” he pulled you close, “you did brilliantly.” And with that, he closed the gap between the two of you. There was not a doubt in your mind to kiss your boyfriend back. When you pulled away, his words still puzzled you.
“I didn’t do anything, though,”
“I wouldn’t say that, darling.” He kissed you softly again before stepping into the vault. “Do I have to remind you that you’re the brain behind this whole operation?”
⇵
A year ago, you would have never expected yourself to participate in the robbery of your own workplace, yet here you were. It had all started when Tom walked up to your counter, handing you a cheque of 6.90 dollars. The small amount made you raise your eyebrow, already wondering if you would give in and ask what the story behind this was. He could see the confusion in you and responded to the unasked question.
“It was a bet.”
You gave him an unimpressed expression, typing information from the cheque over into your computer. Of course, you wanted to know what the damn bet was, but it wouldn’t have been professional. But again, Tom could read you. He had played to your interest and curiosity, and he knew it.
“I had bet that I could get the number of the cutest person here,” he leaned on the counter, a smug grin on his face. His fingers were toying with the pen on his side of the window barrier. The little metal chain clinked as it hit the surface.
“Right, and since you can’t get your own number-”
“So you think I’m cute, love?” Oh right, he had been wearing glasses because he had looked up at you from behind them. That mischievous twinkle was always there. You could have seen it as a warning, a red flag, but instead, you saw it as a light signal. A firehouse spotlight welcoming you into an entirely new world.
“That’s not what I meant,” you tried to play it off cool, “And you know you’re really wasting everyone’s time here, people have better things to do than stand in line at the bank,” you finished off the transaction… well, almost. Right before you were about to finalise the process, you paused and looked at Tom.
“Am I correct to understand that you were supposed to get the money if I gave you my number?”
“Well, yeah…” Tom’s confident grin had subsided.
“Then, since you have not fulfilled the task, I cannot, in my good conscience, accept this cheque transaction, I’m sorry, sir,” with a polite smile, you slipped the piece of paper right back to him. He looked at it, dumbfounded, then back at you. In the background, you could hear someone laughing, but you ignored it. “Have a nice day.”
He looked at you, mouth open and eyes wide, before stepping aside. He must have not dealt with a lot of rejection in his life, you felt like. You were about to press the button to call the next client in line when he popped right back up in front of you.
“When do you get off?”
“Excuse me?”
“Off work, when do you finish? I would really like to take you out tonight if that’s alright.” His cocky facade had lifted, and you could see a softer side to him. His smirk changed into a genuine innocent smile, and he had taken off those dumb sunglasses. He was bouncing his leg up and down while waiting for your answer.
“At five,” you mumbled, angry at yourself that you had given in, “but if you make me wait-”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, bringing back that smugness, and then he was finally on his way out. As you pressed the button announcing the following number in line, you could see him walk out through the glass doors. He was with someone, probably the H. Osterfield that had signed the cheque. From your distance, you couldn’t make out much more besides the fact that he was taller than Tom.
You had just enough time to look away before Tom noticed you staring. Yeah, he had gotten you hooked.
And it only got worse after your “date”. He had taken you out to a restaurant. It was a small Italian place, where one paid more for the atmosphere than for the food (which was still good). You spent the whole night talking and laughing. He had this way about him that he made any interaction effortless. It was his charm.
Maybe because of this charm, you had no apprehension about going back to his place when he suggested it. On the other hand, maybe because of that same reason, you had easily broken your own rule not to kiss on a first date… or anything beyond that.
You weren’t sure if you had preferred it if it had only been a one-night thing. If you had woken up in his bed and there wasn’t a full breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, if you hadn’t found him standing at the stove, flipping the last pancake, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and a quirky little apron. But all of that had happened, and you had eaten your pancakes, and before leaving, you had scribbled your phone number on the whiteboard on his fridge.
He called you that afternoon, asking if you wanted to meet up again that weekend.
To dwell on old decisions didn’t do anyone well, but you still wondered if you should have said no. And if you had, where would you have ended up then? Most definitely not where you were now...
⇵
“Oh, ye-hes!” Tom clapped his hands at the sight of the money. An unimaginable amount of beautifully, evenly stacked bills. He gave you one more kiss on the cheek before he stepped inside, grabbing the first stack nearest to him. You watched him for a second, enjoying the money, which he obviously noticed.
“What?” he chuckled nervously, most likely feeling a bit self-conscious.
“Nothing, you’re just cute.”
“Not as cute as you,” he quipped back, “but c’mon, we don’t have much time.” That was true. You were working on a tight schedule. You got to your knees and got to work. You didn’t have much time, but silence always bothered both of you.
“Did you ever think I would be up for this?” you asked him, counting out a few 100 dollar bills.
“No fucking way.” Tom chuckled, stuffing some of the money in the bag.
⇵
As perfect as the beginning may have been, a few months into your relationship, you had realised something was wrong. That Tom was definitely hiding something from you. Well, you had a hunch about it. There were the secretive phone calls in the middle of the night, the meet-ups “with his friends” he wouldn’t talk to you about… of course, your mind had gone to the worst-case scenario, that he was cheating on you. A few arguments had erupted from those accusations, but it wasn’t enough of a reason for Tom to tell you what was going on.
That should have been your sign to leave. To pack up and go. Your clear exit to get off the highway. But you stayed. Not even because you believed you could forget about it and make it work. No, fuck that. Your stubbornness would not have let you leave it as it was. You needed to know what was happening.
So, one day when Tom had told you he was off to meet up with his friends, you had decided to just follow him. Not really sure what to expect. It could have been anything. You could have ended up at the outskirts of town, breaking up some weird drug deal, or you could have banged on his motel room door as he was fucking his side chick.
But none of that happened.
Instead, you had followed him outside of town to a storage facility. It was there that you found him, with his friend Harrison and his brother Harry. At first sight, it seemed like you had encountered a crime investigation. Whiteboards filled with information, red strings connecting it all. Around them, boxes with...things. Expensive looking things.
Except, it wasn’t an investigation. The whiteboards were filled with plans, plans for their own crimes.
It had taken them a moment to realise they had an audience. The three men looked at you, almost terrified, as you stared back at them with that same fear. It was too much to take in. You were stepping back in terror. You would have run away if it wasn’t for the fact that you had frozen in shock.
“Fuck, y/n,” Tom got up from his chair, got to you, and quickly pulled you away from everything.
“What, what is all this?” you tried to stay calm, but there was no way to hide the anxiety you were feeling. You had seen it all. The intel, the stolen goods, the guns. Yet there he was, Tom, standing right in front of you, holding your trembling hands. It didn’t make any sense.
“It’s not what it looks like, I promise.”
“Bullshit, Tom. Do you really think that low of me? What the fuck is all this?” Your gaze shot up to his eyes. They were filled with panic. To have gotten caught in the act, most likely. Expecting that you would rat him out now to the cops.
You stared into each other's eyes and you waited for him to explain himself. Say that it was just a joke or something, that it wasn't real, but he didn't say a word. And in a way- that's all you needed to know.
“I fucking knew it,” you said, stepping away. “I fucking knew it!”
“What?” He didn’t even attempt reaching out for your hand again.
“I knew that Rolex wasn’t a fucking inheritance.” You pointed at his wrist, where the shiny watch was wrapped around. Like a child with a stolen cookie, he hid his hand behind his back, not wanting to give you any more evidence of his wrongdoings.
“I promise, I wanted to tell you.”
You ignored his statement, asking your next question, “do you even know how to fix a car? Or was literally everything you told me a lie?” You should have known better. There was no fucking way a mechanic could afford the shit he bought sometimes. But he had always managed to tell you he had just used some of the money from his parent’s inheritance. How stupid could you have been, honestly?
“I have never lied to you. I promise.” He stepped toward you again, his words and posture conveying pure desperation for your attention. “The only reason I did not tell you, is because I was scared you would leave me. Or that it would bring you into danger. I can not lose you. I just can’t. Please believe me.”
“Well, I’m here now, so you better tell me everything or else I’m walking out that door and you’ll never see me again.” As scared as you may have been of this new revelation, you wanted to know what was going on. Maybe out of all the choices you had made in this relationship, this had been your downfall. Perhaps you should have just walked away and forgotten about Tom, about what you had seen that day, but you couldn’t. Something, possibly fear, had glued you to the cement ground of that damned storage facility.
“y/n-” He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to pull you into any of it. But it was too late for that. You had gotten caught in his web of trouble the second he spoke to you at the bank counter.
“I’m serious. You tell me what the fuck it is that you and Dumb and Dumber over there are doing right now.”
He begged you with his eyes not to make him, but you didn’t listen. So, he told you everything. How it all had started years ago, in high school. When they were just three kids off the street, getting high off the adrenaline and risk that petty theft, pickpocketing and shoplifting bought them. Then, as they got older, they had realised that they were actually good at it. That they could make some serious profit out of it. And so, the planning and the preparation came in as they started to rob bigger places. The more Tom told you, the more you began to connect the dots.
The Robinson Jewel heist… You had read about it in the papers. A jewellery store had been robbed a town over, almost everything had been stolen. The culprits were never caught.
You clutched onto the silver necklace he gave you for your birthday. It must have been only a few weeks after that robbery.
“I’m sorry, okay. I understand if you want to leave.” He said as he finished his story. The regret was evident in him, which you appreciated, but it wasn’t enough. Your grip on your necklace got tighter as you tugged at it. The clasp dug itself into the back of your neck, but it stayed put.
“I can’t do this.”
⇵
“Woah, wait,” you stopped Tom as he was about to put one of the currency straps in a bag, “that’s a dye pack.”
“How do you-”
“There is a little discrepancy here, see?” you pointed out the little sign of the money hiding an explosive packet of blue dye. Tom looked at it, then threw it aside before reaching out to kiss you passionately.
“You know, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled with his lips barely leaving yours. Your only reply was a half-smile and a kiss in return.
⇵
To this day, you could never be sure what made you walk up and knock on his door all those weeks later.
It had been tough ever since you decided to walk away from the storage unit, walk away from Tom. You hadn’t even turned back around, and it was probably for the better. Otherwise, you would have seen him standing there, under the bright lights in the narrow corridor. His shoulders slumped in defeat. What you did hear, though, as you were nearing the exit, was the echoed scream of frustration and the banging of what could have only been a fist against a metal lock-up.
You had tried to go back to normal as if this had been like any other of your previous breakups. But none of your previous exes had been career criminals. And none of them had been Tom. You had never felt the same way about them as you did for him. He was different, in good as well as bad ways.
Maybe because of this, you had felt so horrible. Days seemed to be never-ending. Working at the bank had become unbearable. Your manager, who had already been a disgusting pig, only seemed to get worse. It was that day that you had seen him basically harass your coworker, that you were done with it.
And so, when Tom opened his door that afternoon, he saw the last thing he ever expected to see at his doorstep again- you.
“Rob me,” you said, your heart beating a million miles an hour. He looked stunned, his mouth twitching, eager to speak up, but he was speechless.
“Rob my bank.” You told him again.
“What?” You were still standing at his threshold, the street outside empty, but you could never be too safe, so he let you step inside. “Are you serious?”
“I’m done with it. The place is a shithole and my manager is a perv. Go rob it. I can help.” You had no idea what made you decide on this, why nothing in your brain tried to stop you from approaching Tom again, suggesting this idea, or leaning in to kiss him passionately.
After that reunion, you spend the entire night in bed, scheming. You were coming up with ideas on how to successfully perform the heist while Tom brushed his fingers through your hair.
“You know, this is going to be dangerous, you could get into some serious trouble,” he murmured against your neck before kissing your sweet spot. You nodded with a mumble. It was late, and you were both tired, about to fall asleep. But the last kick of adrenaline was still running through your veins. That adrenaline that you always felt when you were with him. That feeling that made “right” and “wrong” just one big blur.
“I don’t care.” You said, assured of your words.
Just like that, everything changed.
⇵
And two months later, you were in the vault, picking dollar bills out of the packs to stuff into a bag. Tom checked his watch, pushing the last few bills down to fit inside. With a sigh, he got up, and you followed him, a surprisingly light duffel bag in each hand. He held the vault door open for you.
Once you had reached the entrance to the main room of the bank, he put his mask back on and pushed his fake gun into the small of your back. You tried to get into the mindset, giving the few innocent bystanders in the room a show. Trying to think what it would be like if this was a really dangerous situation for you, you tried to get your heart rate up a bit, look scared and clammy, shaking all over.
Tom opened the door and made you walk in first. He pushed the door hard, slamming it against the wall. You could see the lady, the one who had been at your desk earlier, jump up at the loud sound. A part of you felt a bit bad to put these people through all this stress and chaos, but you knew they were safe and nothing was going to happen to them. It was fine.
“And now, throw the bags to the front,” Tom was back in his role and dug the pistol into you, and you did as he said, trying to make the bags look heavier than they were. You bend over and threw them onto the floor, making them slide through the room. Harrison picked one up, Harry another.
Tom passed you and slapped your ass firmly. You jumped up with a shriek, not having expected that little stunt from him.
As Tom grabbed the remaining bags, Harrison and Harry ran off, and you finally ran to the hidden panic button. It was no fancy system. The doors didn’t automatically lock. The only thing that happened was that the police would receive a transmission, telling them to show up. The officers weren’t the fastest in the town, so it would take them at least ten minutes to get to the street. By that time, there would be no sign of the boys. Nothing they didn’t want to leave behind anyway.
You could see the group of terrified people push their bodies further into the wall as Tom walked by them. He didn’t even glance at them. Just like his accomplices, he ran off into the street. No one in the building moved. In silence, everyone waited for the sirens to boom through the city, a melancholy of screeches accompanied by red and blue lights.
As you waited for the police cars to arrive, you tried to calm down a bit, preparing for the upcoming part of the heist. The part where you were needed to lie your ass off.
⇵
“You know what,” Tom laughed, a slice of pizza in his hand, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this kind of turns you on.” You were at his place, just eating take out on a random evening, doing what you usually did when there was nothing on tv- working on your elaborate heist plans. Tom had, for sure, never expected you to be so involved in any of it. And he couldn’t deny that it was bringing a lot of joy out in him, seeing you like that.
“You wish,” you burst out in a fit of giggles, trying to not choke on the bite of pizza you had taken moments before.
“To say I don’t would be lie,” he winked and took another bite. You finally swallowed down your own piece of dough. You took one more deep breath, making sure you were stable, before speaking up.
“I mean, sure, the idea that my boyfriend is a hot-shot criminal is pretty hot. And have I had weird Bonnie and Clyde fantasies? Maybe-”
“Really?” Tom shot up straight in his seat, his eyes basically bulging with curiosity. “Fantasies, like… dirty stuff?”
“I was joking, you dumbass,” you threw a piece of the crust at him, which he caught in his mouth. You couldn’t even pretend- that was impressive. He enjoyed eating the nicely baked dough, but you could see the disappointment written on his face.
“Do you have any…” you raised an eyebrow at him, curiously, “you know, fantasies?” It never hurt to ask.
⇵
The police arrived faster than expected. All 40 seconds earlier. The traffic lights two blocks away must have been on green. Lucky bastards. But it didn’t matter, for the culprits, to their knowledge, were far and long gone.
You were still standing behind your counter, staring ahead at the “exit” sign, trying not to blink, making it look as if you were in shock. Then, an officer walked up to you. He was lanky and young-looking. His moustache, or the poor excuse of one, counted barely five hairs.
“Ma’am?” he asked. You blinked slowly and looked at him. “Can you step out from behind the counter, please?”
You nodded your head, a bit shakily, and slowly made your way to the door. The police officer did not bother to meet you at that door, making you walk up to him.
“I will ask you a few questions now, if that’s alright?”
You nodded again, wrapping your arms around yourself. The officer, whose name tag said “Jones”, looked down. “Would you like a blanket maybe, ma’am?”
“No, thank you,” you spoke in your weakest voice possible, “I just- uhm, I think I need to sit down.”
“Of course, of course,” Jones took you by the elbow, a gesture you despised but didn’t comment on considering the circumstances, and then he led you to the row of chairs in the waiting area of the room. You sat down, and Jones sat down next to you, keeping a chair of space between you. He leaned with his arms on his knees as he spoke to you. He had a soft voice, very soothing, making you understand why he was the one on the job to talk to you: "the traumatised bank teller".
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Yes, yes. Of course.” You blinked, pretending to think for a moment as if you had not prepared this speech weeks in advance. “I was working the counter, uhm making a deposit for Mrs. Deller.” You turned around, looking for the old woman, “that’s her.” Jones followed your hand, taking a mental note of the lady. She, like everyone else, was being questioned by a different officer. You couldn’t help but notice that Mrs Deller’s officer was much better looking than Jones.
“So I was helping her with the deposit and suddenly these people walk in- three of them.”
“What did they look like?”
“Uhm, well, they were wearing masks, so I don’t know, but they were pretty tall. And they were all wearing those kinds of jackets- I can’t really explain it but they looked pretty heavy and uhhh- oh god, what was it, shit!” You slammed your hands on the two chairs at your sides in frustration.
“Let’s come back the jackets later, maybe,” Jones tried to calm you down, which you appreciated, “what happened next?”
“Oh, so they walked in,” you coughed, “and one of them walked up to me. The other two I guess were taking care of everyone else in the room, I’m not sure, I was kind of panicking when I saw the guns.”
“Guns?” Jones asked.
“Mhm, I don’t what they were but they were pretty big,” you showed an average size with your hands. “So the guy, I think it was a guy, at least he sounded like a guy but these days you never know, it could be someone with just a very deep voice or some kind of technology-”
“The individual.” Jones interrupted you, trying to get you back on track.
“Right, so he, they, whatever, walked up and made me open the door for him.”
“Did you press the panic button?”
“I mean, I wanted to but he was looking right at me and he had a gun- oh god, I’m so fired,” you leaned down, covering your face with your hands and let out a heaving cry.
“Ma’am, it’s ok, calm down.” Jones was doing his best, you could tell, which did make this all a bit harder, but you were far too deep in it to stop or turn back. Instead, you took a few deep breaths, trying to “calm down” as Jones suggested and continued telling your story. The best thing about being the only one with access to the vault and having no other kind of evidence as to what might have happened behind those doors was that you could make up any kind of shit that you wanted.
You coughed again. “I led him to the vault. He had his gun in my back, telling me to hurry up or he’d shoot me. At one point, I actually heard a click-” you reached for Jones’ arm, “officer, what if he comes back to kill me?” You looked at him with panic-stricken eyes, or at least what you hoped would look like panic-stricken eyes.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, ma’am. You’re safe now, but please, you need to tell me what happened. Did he make you pack the money?”
You were thankful for his suggestive tone because it let you just go along with what he already thought happened. So, you nodded, pursing your lips as if attempting not to burst into tears, giving these self-entitled men the illusion as if you were trying to stay strong for their sake or some kind of bullshit like that.
“I had to put it in loose, into all these, what do you call them, duffel bags.”
“How many bags were there?”
“Four, I think, but at one point he might have started packing one as well, I’m not sure, I tried not to look him in the eyes.”
You kept talking, making up more random things as you went on when another officer walked in through the glass doors, four duffle bags in his hands. Everyone in the bank looked at him, confused. Finally, the officer walked up to the captain, who had been standing in the corner, not really doing anything.
The two men whispered, looking at and in the bags as if suddenly sixty thousand dollars would magically appear in them.
“Why does it smell like that?” you heard the captain say.
“I found it in a trash container sit, they must have tried to get rid of them.” The officer explained. Then, they turned and walked up to you.
“Ma’am, are these the bags you had to pack?”
“Uhm,” you stammered, looking at the bags, “y-yes. I recognise that rip in this one.” You pointed at the rip that you had made yourself some time ago. It was pulling the handle almost apart in two even pieces. The officers looked at each other, speechless.
“Officer?” you asked, as innocently as you could manage, “what does this mean? Where’s the money?” You looked at Jones, hoping for some kind of answer. He hesitated, looking at his superiors, but eventually decided to tell you.
“It seems that the perps repacked the money? And left these bags behind, ending their trail, possibly.” You could hear his unsure tone. It was just a bleak theory. It wasn’t entirely wrong, though.
“What? So is the money lost now? Are they gonna get away with it?” You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to get some tears to come out. It was almost working, but you didn’t need it to be exceptionally believably. Just the teary look of the corners of your eyes was enough to fool them.
“We’ll get them, don’t worry.” The captain told you. You smiled weakly in response, letting your arms wrap around yourself again tightly. The men towered over you, talking and mumbling to each other. Evidently, you had been dismissed with nowhere to go. So, you looked straight ahead, at the counter. The glass separator mirrored the entrance of the bank. You could see more police officers walking around, talking to the other four witnesses. They were all wearing identical trauma blankets, even though the heat had not subsided one bit in the room.
The pen at the counter had fallen, now hanging off its chain pathetically, still swinging a bit. You let your eyes focus on it, zoning out, ignoring everything else that was happening around you.
Or so you made them think. In your hazed state, the officers didn’t bother to keep their voices down as they strategised.
“They must have repacked the money in something, taken off in a car? I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a getaway around the corner, now trying to get as far away from here as possible. We should probably contact other stations, just in case.” You knew for a fact that that was wrong. Harry had to get back to work, so maybe he had taken a car to make the drive across town, but he probably walked. Harrison was supposed to take the line 5 bus, planning to go to the gym still, and Tom was- right outside?
You saw his reflection in the glass, and your head shot up. What the hell was he doing here? His long black coat was now, of course, gone, and he was wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt. His curly hair was slightly messy.
He was standing outside, arguing with an officer that stood on the lookout at the door. You could hear him shouting.
“What’s going on?” He looked inside through the glass doors. “Y/n!? y/n!”
You got up, trying to turn your frustrations for him into a look of worry or relief. When he saw you, he very courageously and stupidly, pushed by the officer and walked inside quickly. As he stepped in, he bumped against poor Mrs Deller, apologising.
“Sir,” Jones stopped him quickly, “I need to ask you to step outside.”
“Like hell, I will,” Tom was really a moron, but you loved him for it. His attention was only on you.
You walked up to him. He hugged you tightly, bringing his hand up to brush through your hair. “What are you doing here?” You asked.
“We were supposed to get lunch, remember? I was coming to pick you up, and I saw the police cars- are you alright?” He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” To this, he smiled lightly. For an outsider, it might look like a smile of relief, a boyfriend just happy to know his girlfriend is safe, but you knew better. It was that mischievous smile you had fallen for. The knowing look that your plan was working.
He hugged you again.
“Sir,” it was the captain speaking now, “you are trespassing on a crime scene! I need you to leave immediately.”
“Fine, fine.” He let go of you, and with a theatrical sigh, he said to you: “I’ll see you later, ok, love?”
“Actually, I’d really like to go home now, please, if there aren’t any more questions?” You directed the question to Jones, who nodded.
“We will contact you if there are, miss.”
You nodded to his response, and holding Tom’s hand, walked out of the bank.
“You just can not stop being a show off, can you?” You laughed when you turned the corner where Tom’s car stood parked. He took his keys, and the old Toyota clicked open.
“Whatever do you mean?” He said innocently, opening the car for you. When you stepped inside, you could see that the guys’ jackets, masks and fake guns were lying on your foot mat. You kicked the things around to make space and pulled at your seatbelt.
“I mean, you’re a complete idiot for coming back. And bumping into Mrs Deller! What were you thinking? What if she recognised you?!”
“But did she?” Tom shrugged nonchalantly, checking his mirror. “Oh c’mon, y/n, it was just a bit of fun, it’s fine.”
“Idiot,” you just huffed out, crossing your arms. Tom started the engine.
“Yeah, yeah, you said that already. Now, come on, let’s go get lunch. Wanna get some pasta?”
“You know I do.” You leaned over the gearshift to kiss his cheek, and Tom, with his shit-eating grin still plastered over his face, drove off.
⇵
The police spend the rest of the day talking to possible witnesses. Speaking to the other individuals who had been at the bank did very little. In a state of panic, none of them could remember anything. Mrs Deller, a seventy-year-old woman, could barely make a word come out of her mouth.
The bank was located near Main Street, where many businesses were located, with plenty of people walking around any day of time. There were hundreds of windows pointed at the bank, and yet, at the end of the day, after conducting hundreds of interviews with people who had been shopping or having lunch in the vicinity, or had just possibly been walking by the bank, nobody had seen the three suspects walking in or out of the bank.
The CCTV cameras were merely pointed at the door, showing an area no wider than a few feet right at the entrance, not giving any intel on what direction the culprits might have come from or runoff in. Inside the bank, there was nothing to go off of either. The timestamp of the vault showed it had been opened twice during the day, a few minutes before opening hours and during the heist. According to the automatic log, it had been then closed about 15 minutes later. There were no working cameras in the building.
It was official. Miss y/n, the bank teller, was the only witness who could give any helpful information about what had happened that day. And unfortunately, it was not enough to pursue or even find any leads.
But one thing in particular unsettled the cops. The bank teller had explicitly told them that she packed the money into duffel bags and unpacked it from their wrapping. Meaning that sixty thousand dollars in separate bills had been stuffed into those bags, and yet, they were found, probably not much more than fifteen minutes later, half pushed into a trash receptacle. Besides a few loose one-dollar bills, completely empty.
The reasoning was pretty simple. Distraction and diversion. Duffel bags were not exactly the most inconspicuous items. So the perps must have repacked them into something less obvious.
But how did they manage to repack them so quickly?
⇵
The next day you were woken up by a door slamming shut. It didn’t bother you too much since you had gotten used to it ever since you started staying over at Tom’s place more often. His brothers and Harrison often treated the apartment as theirs, coming and going as they pleased.
“Wakey wakey,” Harrison slammed his hand on the door of the bedroom, “eggs and 60 grand.”
“That doesn’t even rhyme,” you said, still half asleep. You sat up straight, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Tom was, with his limbs splayed out in every direction, still sound asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth every now and then. You patted his chest lightly but to no effect.
“Tommy, get up,” you shook him at his shoulder now. He looked so peaceful, a bit messy, but certainly, he did not look like a person who had robbed a bank at gunpoint just one day ago. Sure, the gun he pointed was fake and could do no damage, but the mindset was there. A mindset you two now shared, in a way. You were just as eager that previous morning to go to work and get it rolling.
Tom had, on several occasions, asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. Unofficially and indirectly trying to get you out of trouble before it was too late. But you didn’t care. You had found a side of yourself you never knew existed. The planning, the scheming, it was exciting. It gave you a high like nothing else. And now it was over, and it was done, and you were lying in bed with him like nothing ever happened.
Harrison banged on the door, and the noise finally woke Tom up. He jumped up startled, his hair poking out in every which way.
“I’m up, I’m up!” he shouted at his friend.
“So get your ass out here, then!” Harrison shouted back. You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just past eleven. You had spent the entire night celebrating and drinking and only went to bed around 3, so it was a pretty good night’s rest.
Tom found his underwear, and you found a clean shirt (of Tom’s) to pull over your head, and wrapped in each other’s arms, you walked out into the living room.
There, where one day, so long ago, you had stumbled in to see Tom flipping pancakes in his boxers and an apron, you were now met with the view of Harrison, standing at the kitchen counter, in dark green overalls, three black trash bags left on the counter in front of him. Harry was sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping on his morning tea.
“Well, let’s see it then,” Tom said enthusiastically.
“I thought I’d let the lady to the honors.”
You didn’t need to hear it twice. Quickly, you untangled yourself from Tom’s embrace and walked over to the counter. The smell was not the freshest, but it didn’t matter.
“Are you sure you took the right ones?” Tom quipped.
“Fuck off," Harrison slapped the back of Tom's head, "next time you can get up at five in the morning to pick up trash.”
You opened the bag nearest to you and stuck your hand inside, and Harrison shut up. Harry put down his mug, and all three men looked at you in anticipation. When you pulled it back out, your fist was filled with hundred dollar banknotes. The four of you erupted in a choir of elated cheers.
⇵
The plan was pretty simple. Tom would walk in with you to the vault, four empty duffel bags in hand. Well, almost empty, because there was a role of trashbags inside one of them.
Once in the vault, the two of you quickly stuffed as much money as you could in the trash bags, besides some of the smaller banknotes, to tuck into the duffels. Afterwards, instead of heading immediately back to the front room of the bank, you turned right, heading to the back exit. It was barely ever used since it led to a small alley filled with trash containers shared with a Chinese restaurant.
The container was full, but you stuffed the money-filled bags behind it, ensuring it wasn’t visible to anyone who didn’t care to look for them. While you did that, Tom filled up the duffel bags with some of the less gross looking waste that had been thrown out.
“This is actually disgusting,” he groaned, closing up the bags. “I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of this smell.”
“I know, but you can buy yourself the fanciest of shower gels once we have this money.”
“Remind me why we need to do this? Why not just go with the money in the bags and run for it?”
“Because the police, while incompetent, are not complete morons and anyone will notice three guys carrying giant duffel bags around town.” You explained to him. He knew this very well, of course, but just needed to hear the motivation to not hurl at the smell of the rotting Kung Pao Chicken.
Once that was done, you headed back into the bank. The boys ran out with the trash while you pressed the panic button. As you waited for the police to arrive, your accomplices ran to the next alley to take off their masks and jackets. Tom took them and stuffed them into his car, which was parked not far away, while Harry and Harrison emptied the trash out of the bags into another container, leaving the bags, and the remaining money somewhat visible from a distance. Once satisfied with their job, they walked out of the alley, taking their separate ways. Harry was crossing the street as a police car turned the corner. He even shouted out at the driving officer for not looking out.
The money behind the trash container between the bank and the Chinese restaurant remained there, untouched but by far not forgotten, until the following day.
At five am, still a bit drunk, Harrison got up and made the drive over to the headquarters of the Sanitation Department. A friend of his, Biggy Q, let him borrow his truck, knowing better not to ask questions when it came to Haz. Besides, Harrison promised him to complete the first half of his shift, so he could not be bothered what he needed the damn garbage truck for.
Harrison didn’t have an official uniform, but a basic green overall was pretty easy to obtain, and at five in the morning, not a lot of people would be bothered about it. He drove through the city, picking up garbage bag after bag until he reached the alley behind the bank. There, just like y/n had told him, was the jackpot. He took it with him into the cockpit, dumped the rest of the trash into the bag and drove off. He met up with Biggy Q a few minutes later, giving him back his truck. Q definitely gave his friend a few strange looks when he saw Harrison take out three bags from the front of the truck, but again, he knew better than to ask questions.
⇵
Even though it wasn’t even noon yet, the champagne was taken out of the fridge, and it popped open with a bang. The cork flew out into the ceiling, almost hitting the light, but none of you cared. You didn’t even bother bringing out glasses to drink from. Tom took a large sip right from the bottle, most of it spilling over his chin. He then handed it to you, and on an empty stomach, you knew it would immediately go straight to your head.
Harrison almost drank half the bottle, but having done what he had done that morning, you all decided it was well deserved. Especially since Harry then poured his part of the champagne over Harrison’s head. Instead of cursing out, the blonde leaned his head back, letting the alcohol pour straight into his open mouth.
You had done it. You had actually done it. There were sixty thousand dollars on your kitchen counter, just sitting there, waiting to be spent. Nobody but the four of you knew where the money could have gone or what had happened to the perpetrators. The heist would become a mystery that ghosted the town in rumours.
The following week you had to still play a pretty intense role, pretending that the events of the heist had had an impact on you. The people working around you had to believe that what had happened that Wednesday afternoon traumatised you to the core, giving you a perfect excuse to quit your job and file for generous compensation.
On your final day, Tom was there to pick you up. Still behind the wheel of his trusty grey Toyota. The 60 grand was safely stored in several international deposits, ready to be used on a rainy day.
“How does it feel to be a free woman?” He joked before pecking your lips in a sweet kiss.
“Makes me want to do something really bad.” You replied, kissing him right back, this time with more fervour.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking about those little fantasies you had, that you told me about, I was thinking of making them come true.” You smirked, sitting back in your chair.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Tom’s eyes widened, his cheeks heating up visibly in a tone of pink. He pushed the gas pedal and drove. You laughed, pleased with the effect you had on him. As he drove, he let his hand wander to your thigh, and you happily let your fingers tangle with his.
“What are you smiling like that for?” Tom said when he glanced your way. You hadn’t even noticed you were grinning as you were.
“I love you,” was all you said.
“I love you too.” Tom smiled back.
All your life, you had heard that love made people do stupid things, but would that include armed bank robbery? Could that hold up in court? Probably not, but you really could not care less.
The End
thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it. please let me know what you thought of it :) and please please reblog! it would mean so much to me.
lmao i really hope that this all made sense. i had a 'vision' of how i wanted this fic to look like and i hope i succeeded haha <3
> masterlist link in bio
>taglist link in bio (tagging people in reblog)
#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fic#tom holland imagine#tom holland au#au#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#imagine#fluff
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What, exactly, kills people on the banks of the Mississippi River?
I think about St. James Parish in 2020 during pandemic, and the nearly-$10-billion chemical facility currently being installed over a mass slave burial ground and multiple nineteenth century sugarcane plantation estates because parish administrators, hiding their actions, altered rules to accommodate the toxic-benzene-emitting industrial plant without the knowledge of their black neighborhoods. I also think about how St. Gabriel experienced something very similar in the 1990s. Of the top 25 US counties with the highest death rate from covid, 10 are in Louisiana’s chemical industry corridor, including the US’s highest death rate in St. John the Baptist Parish, which is also the same site as the US’s highest risk of cancer from airborne sources. Just how obvious and egregious can environmental racism be?
Recent headlines:
Good question.
Here’s a map of covid death rates and airborne carcinogens to consider:
St. James is among the top 20 counties in the US with the highest death rate from covid. Ignoring the major hint in the term “Cancer Alley,” epidemiologists working for the US federal government have “answered” this question when asked by local media. In recent releases, these doctors, along with chemical company PR representatives, say that “obesity and hypertension” might explain high death rates of black communities in Louisiana. Since 2015, as emissions in the US generally decreased, carcinogenic emissions in Louisiana have steadily increased, and many major new chemical facilities have been permitted to build. Recently, especially since around 2014, administrators and officials of St. James Parish tried to hide what they were doing when they quietly rezoned residential neighborhoods as “residential/future industrial” zones to allow the leasing of land for Form*osa’s $9.4-billion major new petrochemical project which will include about 15 new facilities on 2,300 acres of land, built directly over a slave mass burial ground and two separate nineteenth century sugarcane plantations. The Form*osa site will be allowed to emit over 73,000 pounds of benzene into the air each year (the highest of any location in the US with the sole exception of Shell Norco’s facilities). Form*osa is expected to emit between 1.6 to 3.5 million pounds of airborne emissions each year, and Louisiana regulators are expected to issue the corporation permits which would allow them to double the amount of airborne carcinogenic emissions in the parish when the facilities open in 2022.
This brings to mind something that’s been happening in nearby St. Gabriel since about 1994, involving similar weaponization of zoning regulations against black neighborhoods in Cancer Alley. St. Gabriel chose to incorporate itself as a city so that it could limit chemical facilities. But that didn’t stop the chemical companies. When parish administrators and state regulators really want to make some cash and appease chemical industries, they find ways to subvert local neighborhoods and organizers.
As carcinogenic airborne emissions generally decline in the US, here is the increase in emissions in Louisiana:
Both US government epidemiologists and major chemical companies operating in Cancer Alley, when interviewed by local and major international media publishers since the virus outbreak, have been asked variations of this question: “Do you think that there might be a connection, that people living at these sites with extreme amounts of airborne carcinogens happen to have a disproportionately high risk of death from a virus that attacks the lungs?” And repeatedly, US government-employed epidemiologists and chemical companies have answered by suggesting that “there’s not enough evidence” or “possibly, but who can say?” And instead, they propose that “Cancer Alley has high rates of diabetes, obesity, and hypetension” that “are especially high among minority communities” for some reason, and therefore these “co-morbidities” are to blame.
“Hypertension.”
Source:
More “hypertension”:
Location of St. James, St. Gabriel, St. John the Baptist, and major chemical facilities between New Orleans and Baton Rouge [from Pro/Publica and the Times-Picayune]:
So, what happened in St. Gabriel? In 1994, the unincorporated town of St. Gabriel, along the southern edge of Baton Rouge, north of St. James, voted to become a formal city, apparently so that it could have the power to prevent industrial chemical companies from brutalizing their community. But chemical companies and their allies and enablers in Louisiana state institutions didn’t like that.
In a major report in October 2019, Pro/Publica made some notes. To paraphrase:
St. Gabriel is able to stop chemical companies from expanding within technical city limits, but the Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality still lets major companies build right on the edge of the city, such that, as of 2019, the risk of cancer from airborne emissions is still worse in St. Gabriel than in 99% of the US, and the BCP facility in St. Gabriel is ranked among the top 10 worst emitters of airborne carcinogens in the US.
Back to St. James, the site of Form*osa. In St. James Parish, about 15% of land is already owned by chemical companies, and over 40% of the parish consists of wetlands. In 2014, the parish administrators passed an ordinance allowing chemical companies to expand in the “predominantly black” 5th district, at the same time that the administrators banned chemical companies Petroplex and Wolverine from building near affluent white neighborhoods. At least 3 other major chemical plants are also being developed in the parish. Maps from Pro/Publica and the Times-Picayune:
From Ramirez’s article, for Grist, on covid and chemical facilities, 4 May 2020:
But the company has a head start. In 2014, the St. James Parish Council had quietly changed the land use plan for Lavigne’s district from “residential” to “residential/future industrial,” welcoming new industry with little public input. Then, this January, the Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality (LDEQ) approved permits for the Taiwanese plastics manufacturer Formosa to build a $9.4 billion petrochemical complex in St. James Parish. [...] Formosa’s own models show that it could emit more of the carcinogenic compound ethylene oxide than just about any other facility in the country. These levels would exceed the benchmark that the EPA uses to determine if exposure poses cancer risks. [...] The gargantuan facility will consist of 14 separate plastics plants, two of which are ethylene glycol plants. [...] The Formosa spokesperson wrote to Grist that “officials have not suggested there to be any link between industrial emissions and COVID-19.” The company instead pointed to Louisiana’s elevated rates of diabetes, obesity, and hypertension, which “are especially high among minority communities.” Adding insult to injury for the predominantly black residents who live near the proposed facility in Lavigne’s district, Formosa’s chosen location sits on two former 19th century sugarcane plantations and a slave burial ground. Although Formosa did not initially disclose this information, a public records request by RISE showed that the company knew that formerly enslaved people were buried beneath the land during its obligatory land survey in 2018. [...] [End.]
Map of St. James, from The Advocate, Baton Rouge:
Graphic is from earlier in April 2020, but still:
--
Hypertension is real, and it is a burden, and it does kill, so I don’t mean to diminish the experience of people with these difficult conditions and covid-related co-morbidities (I have hypertension and type 1 diabetes myself). But blaming these conditions without acknowledging environmental racism isn’t satisfactory.
Of the top 25 counties in the US counties (with a population over 5,000) with the highest death rate from covid, 10 are in Louisiana, including St. James Parish, which sits right in the geographic center of Cancer Alley. And St. James Parish sits immediately adjacent to and shares a border with another notable site: St. John the Baptist Parish, which is the US county with the highest death rate from covid and also the site of the US’s highest risk of cancer from airborne sources and also the site of the only chemical facility in the US that releases carcinogenic chloroprene. St. James Parish also shares a border with Ascension Parish, which has the highest amount of toxic airborne emissions in Louisiana, at over 12.5 million pounds emitted each year.
From the Grist article, May 2020:
“So many people here have died of cancer. 2014 was a real awakening for me, because I lost five people that were very close to me,” Felton told Grist. “My sister-in-law died first of cancer in February, then my brother-in-law the next month, then my husband, he died of respiratory problems. If that’s not a red light going on telling me something is wrong, then what is?” Outside her window, she can already see two chemical facilities on the horizon, and if it wasn’t for the pandemic, she said dark smog would usually obscure her view of the facilities. She worries about what will happen when Formosa’s operations begin. “Somebody needs to do something.”
But don’t forget: The US government, its doctors, and major chemical companies say that it’s the “hypertension” which kills people.
#absurd#that final quote ....#not to diminish the seriousness of hypertension because it is a significant burden and does kill
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NNT Frozen AU pt.3
okay so i do have an explanation, i lost a bit of motivation for writing this cuz this part was a bit boring to write and i also got distracted by making other au’s, but now I'm back doing this now, so yay! You guys are just gonna have to bully me to stop me from procrastinating on this lol
Zeldris yelps in fear and excitement, holding onto his new hat tightly as the sleigh zoomed past various trees on the snowy banks. Gelda side eyes him smirking before turning her eyes back to the snowy path, “sorry about that, but me and Wild like to go fast.”
Zeldris lays back putting his feet up on the dash, “that’s fine with me, I like fast-hey!“ Almost immediately his feet were knocked by Gelda’s forceful hand.
“Hey, this fine polished oak!” He looked at her incredulously as she furiously wiped the place where his feet were, “what were you, raised in a barn?!” Gelda then proceeded to spit on the wood, presumably to effectively wipe off the dirt, some of it landing on Zeldris’s cheek causing him to cringe in disgust, cuz ewewewewewewew-
“Ugh, actually I was raised in a castle.” Gelda ignored him in favour of looking satisfied with her handy cleaning work.
They were silent for a while, so long that Zeldris started to sweat a little despite the cold.
what was he supposed to say?
was he supposed to say something?
was he supposed to say nothing at all?!
Gelda cleared her throat, “sooo, what exactly made the king go all darkness and destruction?”
...she couldn’t have phrased that more bluntly, Zeldris sighed. “it’s my fault, he was pissed that I had gotten engaged to someone I had just met that day-“
“What-“
“-but then he wouldn’t bless the marriage and-“
“Woah, woah woah! Woah- please tell that you did not just get engaged to someone you just met-“
“Yeah, pay attention, then of course I got angry and then he got angry and tried to leave so I grabbed his glove to get his attention. I mean yeah it’s not strange for him to wear gloves with formal wear but he wore them all the time so I thought he just had some problem with dirt! So-“
“You can’t just marry someone you just met!!!” Zeldris scowled at that, “ugh you sound like my brother.”
“yeah, and you’re brother’s right! what the fuck?!!”
this went back and forward for a while, Wild would stop them but this was just too entertaining for him not to listen to.
“-and then tried to ask the king of all people for his blessing, why on earth would you think that he’d listen to you even if you hadn’t just met your fiancé?!”
Zeldris rolled his eyes, “well, when you get engaged it is customary to ask your parents for their blessing, but their kinda, ya know, dead, so I the only other person I could ask was my brother. I didn’t think that he’d cover the land in darkness because of it!”
Hold on, Gelda was still trying to wrap her head around all this, “wait, repeat?”
“The only person I could ask to bless the marriage was my older brother, but he ended up covering the land in darkness?”
“…you mean the king.”
Zeldris looked at her annoyed, “yes, do you know anyone else with crazy powers around here?”
“…You’re brother’s King Meliodas.”
Zeldris pauses and then surveys Gelda’s expression, raising an eyebrow at her flat tone of voice.“...you sound surprised, why do you sound surprised?”
“You’re... older brother... is King Meliodas?!!!”
“I mean I did tell you that right?”
“No?! you forgot to mention that little detail. I just thought you were some noble!!!!”
“I thought it was obvious, after the official ceremony he was brought in front of the cathedral in front of all the kingdom's citizens! I was standing right there next to him!!!”
The taller girl scoffed, “and that was supposed to be a clue that you’re second in line to throne?”
“We look exactly alike!!!!” What?! no they…don’t?
Gelda gets closer to Zeldris’s face in order for her to properly examine his facial features, now that she was actually looking at him, he did have a lot similarities to the king, similar face shape, same nose, same eye shape, she was noticing that he had freckles on his nose.
and apart from Zeldris’s eye colour’s were different, his black eye was practically soulless, no glint of light just an empty black void. his other eye was a different story, it was a bright green, reminding her of bright summer fields, definitely brighter than his older brother’s...
“u-uhm G-Gelda???” Zeldris’s face was almost as red as his hat. Gelda immediately backs out of the prince’s personal and focuses her eyes on the road, her cheeks dusted a light pink, she coughs into her hand, “um, I now see the resemblance...”
“right...” Silence.
“Doesn’t mean you should marry a stranger.”
“oh you little-”
Then they are attacked by wolves, they’re both pretty badass, Wild jumps over a gorge and all three of them survived but Gelda’s sleigh that she had just paid off... did not. Zeldris thanks Gelda for her help getting him this far and promises to replace the sleigh and everything in it, and says that he’ll understand if she doesn’t wanna continue the journey anymore he goes on up ahead and starts trying to figure out which direction he’s going in.
Gelda after a short conversation with Wild, reluctantly decides to join Zeldris because he will die if he continues on his own (this guy hasn’t been outside a day in his life) and that if he’s dead she won’t get her sleigh.
“so we’re going that way right?” Zel asks pointing at a path through a bunch of trees, aw how cute, Gelda chuckles a little.
“more like that way.” she lightly tilts his arm upwards a considerable amount, Zeldris paled at that, wow. the north mountain was way bigger than he thought it was, like way bigger. but Zeldris steels his nerves and takes a deep breath, remember Zel, you’re doing this for your people, just remember whatever you feel about Meliodas you have to put it aside because everyone is counting on you.
“Okay, let’s go then.”
Meanwhile in the kingdom of purgatory:
It was... a shit show, there was a large bonfire in the middle of the town square, everyone was freezing, people were fighting, fear was everywhere and it was basically not a good time for anyone.
Thankfully Fraudrin had opened the gates to the castle as a shelter, with lots of warm clothes and food to give out. Ludociel was very not okay with this cuz he’s an asshole that no one likes and the only thing he’s thinking about is how Fraudrin is giving away Purgatory’s trade-able goods willy-nilly.
Then Zeldris’s horse comes back panicked and without Zeldris. Fraudrin immediately calls for a search party to find his fiancé and King Meliodas and Ludociel volunteers his two body guards, Sariel and Tarmiel, to join.
“When you find the King…you are to put a stop to this darkness, is that understood?”
Meanwhile miles away, in the dark castle on top of the north mountain Meliodas sneezes.
“Huh, seems like someone was talking about me… not that it’s surprising after what happened. They’re probably on their way to kill me right now!” The darkness around him start to get more spiked and dangerous as he laughs a bit hysterically
“-And maybe even mount my head on a- no, no, Meliodas breathe, no one knows your up here, no one’s going to look for you. No one’s gonna get hurt because of you, because no one is coming.”
He takes a deep calming breath and the spikes went back into the walls.
“Okay, now just focus on trying to perfect your bar area…”
Yeah he was doing some interior decorating, turns out the darkness he creates can have any consistency he wanted it to have, could be as soft as pillow, hard as rock or fragile like glass.
It was only after he finished the bar area that he realised that he had no booze.
Tragic.
#nnt#nanatsu no taizai#seven deadly sins#sds#sds anime#zeldris#meliodas#nnt frozen au#gelda nnt#geldris#I will be delving into Zeldris’s trauma later
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guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.
For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell
fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one
i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft
that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you
tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again
as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams
jason: don't you dare put on weird shit
tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)
hear me out hear me out,
red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans
t h i g h s
holy shit yes.
SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe
superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'
does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom
it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.
I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?
as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)
somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.
and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!
babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence
babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to
JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT
again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song
The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian
oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag
soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"
i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage
Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?
don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)
What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk
stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.
This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it
This is canon now @nctxrejects
lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out
idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family
bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another
I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.
yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.
Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings
smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn
Duke was adopted by Bruce?
not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?
True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live
true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?
apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome
ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.
ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut
lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash
oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man
while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.
dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie
magnum hot take
hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth
thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)
why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???
what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones
oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no
I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked
yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends
"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years
i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.
BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them
lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.
I am in love with your posts your honour thank you
omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?
The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST:
1) clark
2) lois
3) oliver
4) dinah
5) john
Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian
yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.
tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.
and what about it?
when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST
oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat
Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes
lmao i do too
I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it
he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.
you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank
babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)
ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something
that's a very good vocabulary upgrade
somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”
steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.
Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you.
Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious
babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks
In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97
lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)
You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.
bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers
How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?
horrible, next question.
I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid
yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'
I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.
superman: so what do you do in your free time?
batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time
bruce and oliver be like
boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)
lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)
Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje
he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'
I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??
i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way
SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed
'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'
i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam
fair enough
#this is only like half of it#but at least you can get like a few answers#yanno fuck it#bataranswers#ask#asks#anon
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Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning
[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]
Masterlist
Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.
Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]
Summary:
Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?
[Photos are my own]
You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.
The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.
Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;
10/10/2000
Leon,
Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.
Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.
You have the information that you need, please make haste.
A friend.
Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;
A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…
Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;
‘Y/N I am going to be out of
town for a while, something has
come up. Please don’t worry,
will explain soon. Leon. X
P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in
your mail box, play you again
when I get back! :] ’
And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.
You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.
You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?
‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.
You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.
And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.
“What…”
Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.
You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.
It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.
Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.
Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.
You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.
After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.
“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.
Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins
#resident evil#resident evil fanfic#resident evil smut#resident evil 8#resident evil 2#resident evil village#leon kennedy#Karl Heisenberg#mother miranda#resident evil heisenberg#karl heisenberg fanfic#karl heisenberg fluff
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Amoreena | Chapter fourteen
Chapter fourteen
main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.
Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.
Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...
word count: 4k
from the beginning <3
Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.
She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.
It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.
They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.
“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.
“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”
His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”
“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.
“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.
Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.
“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.
“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”
“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”
With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)
He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.
On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.
“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.
“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.
He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.
He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.
“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”
She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.
“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.
“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”
“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”
Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”
She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.
When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.
“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.
“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.
“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.
“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.
“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.
“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.
“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”
“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”
“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”
Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.
“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.
“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.
"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.
It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”
She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”
“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”
“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.
“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”
She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”
He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.
“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.
“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.
“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.
“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.
“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.
Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.
Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”
Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”
“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.
Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.
“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”
She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”
“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.
“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.
“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”
“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“
“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.
Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.
“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.
Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.
—
They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.
Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.
“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.
Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.
He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.
She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.
Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.
Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”
“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”
“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.
“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.
“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.
“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.
He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.
“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”
“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.
“No one, quite the opposite actually—“
“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.
“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.
“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”
“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”
“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”
“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”
There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”
“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Where are you right now?”
“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”
“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"
“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”
“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”
“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.
“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”
“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.
“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.
He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.
tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187
@k-k0129
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#amoreena
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8 Anti LO Asks
1. the thing is like even the poets we draw from get critiqued too. a lot of people thought hesiod was an evangelist with an agenda to push, homer (if they existed) was often lampooned for contradicting lines and spending too much time making lists than developing the story, aeschylus and euripides were both seen as biased and cynical and were often mocked, along with many more, and yet LO fans think their kiwi tumblr fave is somehow above all of them and shouldn't be critiqued? Get over yourselves
2. the problem with the 'make your own story" argument is that, assuming you try to retell hxp at least, youll have LO fans attacking you for "stealing" from rachel, who in turn never promotes or supports other retellings unless it adheres to her worldview (such as OSP). say what you will on punderworld or ficlets, but they always prop up lesser known creators with their platforms, meanwhile rachel when tasked with helping others (like Lets Play) she made it about herself. that speaks volumes.
3. a lot of LO fans think antis are just randomly haters but that's not true. Most of us were once devoted fans who couldn't ignore all the issues anymore and who still remember when it had promise and effort put into it, not the rushed husk it is now. It isnt just blindly hating it, it's being annoyed & disappointed of what could have been and how much the comic has declined and how the fans refuse to acknowledge its faults. How would we know how badly its gone down if we weren't fans once?
4. idk man i wouldnt tell people who dislike lo to make their own comics because those end up being way better. reylos did the same thing to disney over how badly they hated the last star wars movie and now their fanfics are becoming NYT bestsellers. just saying.
5. Maybe I'm dating myself here but one of the funniest parts of fandom used to be the most devoted fans calling out the bad stuff in what we liked and discussing it, because it was fan to pick it apart and clown on it. IDK why now LO fans and people like them are so convinced they can only mindlessly praise with no dissent and all critique is invalid. It's basic critical thinking skills that one can like something and still acknowledge the flaws. It's a bad look to admit you can't do so IMHO.
6. lo fans really need to get off this high horse that lo is perfect and therefore can never be criticized. even the best pieces of work ever have actual things to critique within them, and lo is not somehow better than all of them to not be critiqued as well. its an ever growing list of issues lo keeps adding up because of who is behind. sorry, rachel, if you want sole credit for the writing and art, you have to own all the critiques too, and the fans needs to accept it.
7. sorry, LO fans, but we are allowed to critique a work that gets so much privleges that even other webtoon creators dont get (seriously, the majority stull have to live off commission work while working on a full time comic) meanwhile rachel gets away with bad writing, cliffhangers that aren’t resolved for years, worsening art, and her bad and entitled attitude all while the company constantly promotes her while the majority of their catalog doesn’t, she has a full team rushing work for her while she at best does sketches and the occasional banner art, and gets her a bunch of media deals that the rest won’t ever get even a scrap of, all while already being a well off, privileged white woman who cries to her thousands of fans when her ego is bruised because more and more people are noticing her shitty politics and morals put into her work and are rightfully calling it out. at the very least you’d think someone in such a high rank at one of the worlds biggest media houses would actually put in the effort to make the best product she can and respect the people and culture she’s making bank off of, but she’s not and frankly does not seem like she ever will. She quite literally said it’s HER story and she’s allowed to do what she wants with it, and has spoken over Greeks time and time again that their input doesn’t matter over her personal feelings and thoughts. you don’t see other people in her position who also made bank (such as Rick Riordan or Madeline Miller) treat Greece and it’s people so awfully as her, her fans, and her product do, yet she gets all the excuses in the world while the above mentioned and others work on their mistakes and try to always put their best products out there, all while respecting Greece and it’s stories and even giving platforms to the underrepresented, meanwhile Rachel herself can’t even keep colors in line or keep designs on model while her writing gets more and more nonsensical, with her status only going to enrich herself and her ego while the rest are clinging to survive. God willing, maybe another mythology webtoon will be picked up to give her some competition and actually force her to put in the work for the rewards she earned off the backs of others, and that can’t happen soon enough.
8. NGL, kinda funny that LO Stan defends it by claiming people who dislike it are just “hacks like the woman behind 50 shades” like … uh … you know LO is ripped off from 50 shades, right? Like quite literally, it’s almost point for point exactly the same as 50 shades, down to the CEO with mommy issues and BDSM mixed with weird obsessions over a college girl’s virginity and a jealous ex who is into it versus the pure MC. Rachel is literally the hack ripping off 50 shades that that stan is claiming antis are. Wild stuff.
Anyway both the 50 shades woman and Rachel owe Stephanie Meyers a lot of money Bc they both in turn just ripped off Twilight anyway lol
Based on this post:
https://alatismeni-theitsa.tumblr.com/post/663420719494053888/why-not-write-a-take-of-your-own-on-the-myths
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