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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 1 year

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Nutmeg the Socially Impaired Nutcase

Meghan the "Nerd," nobody cares what you achieved at The Little Red School House. Show us the Northwestern Diploma which would prove to the world that Northwestern incorrectly printed: "Rachel Meghan Markle, candidate for a degree in Communications."

Descriptive term, often used pejoratively, indicating that a person is overly intellectual, obsessive, or socially impaired, while tending to conduct characteristic activities like computing and science

According to Online Etymology Dictionary, the word is an alteration of the 1940s term "nert " (meaning "stupid or crazy person"), which is in itself an alteration of "nut" (nutcase).[8]

How to Spot a Sociopath in 3 Steps

Bill Eddy LCSW, JD

SOCIOPATHY

It helps to know some of the warning signs of sociopaths.

KEY POINTS

The driving force for sociopaths is to dominate others. They do this for the feeling of power and control.

Because sociopaths lack a conscience, they are willing to do anything to get what they want.

To assess whether someone might be a sociopath, use The WEB Method, which refers to: their words, your emotions, and their behavior.

Whether you’re trying to spot a potential school shooter, a dangerous romantic partner, a total liar at work, a scammer on the internet, or someone pushing a bogus business deal on you, it helps to know some of the warning signs for sociopaths. As I explained in Part 1 of this two-part series, sociopaths can have some hidden and dangerous personality features.

The DSM-5 lists 10 criteria for diagnosing antisocial personality disorder1 (ASPD), but it assumes you have professional training and a lot of information about the individuals. I’m not going to teach you how to diagnose an ASPD or to distinguish them from a sociopath (or psychopath, or con artist).

This post focuses on a few of the hints that they may give you at your first or first few encounters. These hints may help you choose to keep your distance despite how appealing they may seem on the surface. Don't be a target.

The Theme of Dominance

The DSM-5 states that the essential feature is their willingness to “disregard [or violate] the rights of others.” From my experience in over 30 years dealing with legal cases, family conflicts, workplace disputes, and other situations as a high-conflict consultant, I would say that the driving force with sociopaths (and they have lots of energy) is to dominate others. This may or may not involve breaking the law. They want to dominate people in order to get things from them, such as their possessions, money, sex, business partners, homes, cars, investments, reputation, and so forth. But they also like dominating others just for the feeling of it—the feeling of power and control. Sociopaths lack a conscience, so they will do anything to get what they want.

The three-step method I recommend using to quickly size up whether someone has sociopathic traits (or any high-conflict personality pattern) is what I call The WEB Method®: Their WORDS, your EMOTIONS, and their BEHAVIOR (which involves actions 90% of people would never do). The following are several hints you may pick up from someone by using this method.

Their Words

Sociopaths are fast talkers. Their words are mostly, if not entirely false. But they use many, many words designed to cover their behavior. They may be a completely different person from who they say that they are. Watch out for extremes—big promises; big stories, about the past or the future; and big plans, with no basis for them or no experience at whatever they’re planning.

Extremely positive words. You’re the best! I can’t live without you! I will never hurt you! You deserve better! You make me a better person! We’ll be rich! You’re the most beautiful [smart, persuasive, honest, ethical, spiritual, etc.] person I ever met! I’ll take you around the world! I’ll introduce you to some really famous people! Believe me!

Extremely negative words. On the other hand, their words can be extremely negative, often after they’ve known you a little bit. They will blame you (their Target of Blame) for minor or non-existent offenses: You lied to me! (Even though you didn’t and they lie constantly to you.) I can never trust you again! No one will ever hire you! No one will ever want you! I own you! I will destroy you! Don’t tell anyone what we’re doing, or I’ll have to hurt you! You deserve to be punished after what you did! You owe me this! I have never hurt you, but look at what you’ve done to me!

THE BASICS

The switcheroo. A sociopath will often switch back and forth between extreme charm and extreme threats to get what they want, depending on what they see is or isn’t working at the time. Watch out for strong opinions, which they then drop to adopt the opposite point of view when it’s convenient. They will use whatever words they perceive as helping them dominate the situation at the moment, like an artist’s palette of colors.

They also will figure out your weak spots and vulnerabilities. They may play on them positively, with words to boost your ego: You will be incredibly successful. With my connections and your brains, we’ve got it made. Or they may play on your deepest fears: See, your body really isn’t attractive at all. No one will ever want to be intimate with you. Or no one will ever hire you. I’m the best you’ll ever get. You better be grateful. Very grateful.

Your Emotions

How do you feel around the person? It’s often your emotions that first tell you to beware because your brain wants to believe them. Many people marry sociopaths, or hire them, do business deals with them, or elect them to responsible positions, even though they saw some warning signs. They wanted to believe the person's words rather than pay attention to how they felt. Trust your feelings more than their words. If you have an uncomfortable or extreme feeling, check it out. Do a little research or ask around about what people think of so-and-so.

Fear. One common fear is that they could hurt you if they wanted to. Sociopaths can be predators, so you may naturally feel uncomfortable being alone with them. You may suddenly get the feeling that you want to get out of a situation. Go, and ask questions later. Don’t let them talk you out of your fears. Take your time and get more background information about them.

Infatuation. This is the other extreme. Because of their many extremely positive words, people can fall in love with them—especially if they are lonely, grieving or have low self-esteem at the time. (For more, see my book Dating Radar, co-authored by Megan Hunter.) This also goes for hiring. In today’s fast-paced and competitive business world, sociopaths can make themselves look like a superstar. If you feel swept off your feet by a potential business partner, employee or employer, you may be falling for a sociopath. Since they are everywhere, you have to maintain a healthy skepticism no matter where you are.

Extreme sympathy. If you find yourself feeling extremely sympathetic toward someone, you may want to check out why. Sociopaths are skilled at claiming they have been victims and tell good stories to go with it. They often take advantage of people in vulnerable or sympathetic situations (the elderly, victims of natural disasters, churchgoers, volunteers, etc.). By playing hard on your sympathy, they may be able to get you to do things you wouldn’t ordinarily do for anyone else.

Their Behavior (The 90% Rule)

A surprisingly simple way to spot a sociopath is to stay focused on their behavior and ignore their words. Pay special attention to any extreme behavior—things they do that 90% of people would not. Ask yourself, Would I ever do that? Extreme behavior is common for sociopaths, but they quickly cover it up with excuses: I was tired. I was under a lot of stress. He (or she) made me do it. I had to do it given what the other person did. It almost doesn’t matter what the behavior was; their excuses are often the same. They are always blameless and rarely apologize unless they are caught and it will make them look good.

Targets of blame. As I mentioned in Part 1, many sociopaths end up focused on Targets of Blame—people they feel justified in treating cruelly, whether in their families, at work, or in their communities. They often enjoy the suffering of other people. While they may target anyone, most people will avoid them. The ones they keep targeting or bullying are those who stay engaged with them. Either they get aggressive back with the sociopath (who can do aggressive better than almost anyone else) or they show their fear or frustration. Both approaches are unwise. It’s better to calmly disengage than to show how they affect your emotions. They will enjoy your helpless anger and/or your helpless frustration; it just confirms that they are dominating you.

Smiles, smirks, and laughter. One surprising aspect is to see how they enjoy other people’s pain and hardship. In legal cases, I have seen sociopaths smile, smirk, or outright laugh when a victim tells their story in a deposition or in open court. It gets your attention, because, again, 90% of people would never do that. They would know better and feel some empathy for the victim. If you see someone smiling, smirking, or laughing out loud as they watch another’s pain on TV, in a movie, or on the street at an accident, you may be watching a sociopath who can’t help himself or herself.

Childhood behavior history. One of the DSM-5 criteria for antisocial (sociopathic) personality disorder is that the person has signs of the disorder by age 15. This could include behaviors such as torturing or killing small animals or pets, stealing from family and strangers, fire-starting, or a serious pattern of lying. This is surprisingly common for sociopaths, so they may try to hide such a history or give excuses. The Parkland school shooter in Florida apparently had a history of harming animals. Many people knew about that but perhaps didn't realize the potential it indicated.

This is a very brief look at some of the hints that you may be dealing with a sociopath. The WEB Method® is one way to organize your thinking about people you meet and consider dating, hiring, electing, or otherwise getting involved with. It takes practice, but it’s designed to make it simple to avoid being a target, especially when quick decisions are necessary or you are under stress. For more, see my book, 5 Types of People Who Can Ruin Your Life.

References

1. American Psychiatric Association: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition. Arlington, VA, American Psychiatric Association, 2013.

About the Author: Bill Eddy, LCSW, JD, is a lawyer, therapist, mediator, Training Director of the High Conflict Institute in San Diego, and the author of several books including 5 Types of People Who Can Ruin Your Life (2018).

#megxit #prince harry #markle #queen #actress #meghan markle #narcisstic personality disorder #sociopath #revenge #tom bower #nerd #nutmeg

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biological-catastrophe · 6 months

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I need to vent. But I'm safe, everything is under the cut, I'm setting this to post awhile from when I'm typing this. I'm sorry if this comes off as attention seeking, I just need to get this off my chest.

TW included under the cut if you want to read, I guess

TW: School shootings, death references (no actual death)

On 11/6 my college got put in lockdown. Only some of my class was getting notifications. All we knew was that it wasn't a drill.

I live in America so we know that isn't good right off the bat, and I live in a state with a lot of school shootings. I was in my physics lab, and we were outside shooting some model rockets we built. We were on the outskirts of campus and after some of us got the info we were on lockdown we just.. continued launching. We didn't know what to do. I just trusted my professor. We had no idea what was happening, and its not like we could have gone in any of the buildings since it was on lockdown.

Eventually some staff came up to us like 'you know there's an active shooter right?' and.. yeah. We didn't know what was going on, but we were out in the open.

Finally we were told by the dean to drive to a nearby mall and stay there for safety. I was taking people in my car and hauling ass, it was terrifying. My friends on campus were all texting each other, I was talking with my parents because I was ready to just drive home. We hid in some nearby stores for around an hour or so, and finally I got some rumors that the incident was resolved. And I feel like I'm being so dramatic for this.

From what I know, there was an active shooter down the road.. my dorm would have been the closest building to it... and they eventually came on campus and then left. I don't know if I was on campus when they went on campus, I don't know. But god am I shaken up. I've never gone through an active shooter, I had a similar incident where in highschool a guy with a gun stole a car but I was inside and safe. This? I was out in an open field.. I was horrified. I had no idea what was going on. And just.. right as I'm finally wanting to live again this happens, I fear I'm going to get shot and die.

I don't want to die. I want to graduate college and move in with my boyfriend, get a nice job and get married and settle down. Get top surgery and get cats and just... live. I don't want to die without ever having met him.

It's not like I was actually in major danger, we found safety in a store, but I'm still very shaken up form it.

I have no right to be scared from this, to be so shaken up when others have it so much worse, I've met someone who was shot several times in a school shooting. But I'm scared of going to sleep because of nightmares, I honestly still have my door blocked up. I'm still very on edge. Why am I on edge? This wasn't even major, I was fine. Why am I so fucking dramatic? I've always been the dramatic one, why can't I just grow up for a second?

And yet here I am, making a bigger deal of this then necessary. I'm so fucking stupid. Such a fucking crybaby over nothing. Why am I so dramatic? Why can't I grow the fuck up? Get some balls and a spine for once in my life. Why was I so scared? I'm stupid.

#zee’s ooc #vents

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

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Petty Chapter 4 (Peter Parker)

Hi, hope you enjoy this chapter of Petty, I loved writing it! In this chapter, Peter Parker and Reader meet again and bring the two to a point they can’t stand each other. I don’t own this gif, credit goes to the creator.

Taglist is open!

Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: cursing and slight violence Word Count: 1.7k

You were stuck on that day, rethinking everything after your cousin had passed out. You didn’t even know what to do now, with Peter glaring at you, every chance he had. You felt guilty even more than possible, but you were trying to convince yourself not to be. It was just something you couldn’t hold back. You would tell yourself, “Peter deserves it, don’t worry” but that never worked out. You groaned at yourself, shaking your head. It all made you feel stupid now, compared to how you did that because you thought Peter was dumb.

Mandy refused to talk to you now. You were alright with it, knowing she would probably drive to your home in the middle of the night to randomly take you out to roller-skate. It was something she always did to you, whenever your actions affected her in a negative way. Whenever she did something like that to you, she’d apologize by taking you out roller skating as well. It was a fun tradition to end a feud.

Your mom was disappointed in both you and Mandy. She wouldn’t have known about it in the first place if Mandy managed to shut up. Your mom would just stare at you at dinner now, instead of talk about things, something that made you feel even worse and more uncomfortable. Your mom was one of your best friends, so it was off putting whenever she was in the same room as you now.

You scrunched your face up, remembering how she muttered his name at you before you left for school this morning. “Peter Parker…” Something you would usually scoff at but now you’d want to throw things everywhere and cry at the same time. He still pissed you off, no matter what. But that guilt was immense.

You would just pass him through the hallways. Something that was usually normal, but now intense. He’d glare at you, slam his fist into a locker, but never made any action to just talk to you. It wasn’t something you’d expect from a superhero, and it made you think. Were you his villain of high school? You cringed at the thought, but then you sighed. Were you the villain of your own story as well? Was Peter the villain? Nothing made sense, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

If you were a villain, you were at best a shitty D-list one.

You could have kept quiet about everything. Something that sounds so easy, but it just poured out of you, like you were in a Shakespearean parody. The antagonist villain is always defeated in movies now. But Peter made no play against you. Nothing to take revenge against you.

That just made you feel more guilty. If he did do something, you would somehow theorize and conclude that what you did to him was just. At the same time, you couldn’t just say “Sorry, you’re probably going to be held back.” As well as, “Sorry my cousin blackmailed you.”

By the time you reached your locker, you sighed in relief. He wasn’t here for some reason. He was usually in this hallway, just staring at you, but this morning he wasn’t. You opened your locker, glancing inside to look for your notes for history, but frowned in confusing. Nothing was there. At all, it was just completely empty.

You felt a dread of anxiety pulse through you. You needed those notes for history today, it was important. It was the pre-exam, and without those notes today, you would be fucked. Some stupid test to make sure you knew everything before the actual exam, but the teacher graded it as well. It was worth 10% and without it, you cringed at just thinking of the score.

You shoved yourself more into the locker, just pushing your head in to see better, as if you were hallucinating. You glanced at the top of your locker, furrowing your eyebrows when you saw a paper tapped on it. You pushed yourself out, ignoring people’s looks and stares at you, ripping the paper out. You clutched it hard, slamming your locker shut, and pushed your back against it.

You opened the paper quickly, ignoring the tape falling to the floor. You squinted, reading it over again. “Music room in 10 minutes.” What the fuck? You crumpled it, shoving it deep down in your pocket, glancing down the hallway. Class started in thirty minutes, so you had time. You knew it was Parker, definitely.

The music room was huge. Last year the school decided to tear down the wall into another classroom, to expand the music room. It acted as a small assembly room sometimes, but normally it was just for music. You walked down the hall, feeling nervous as you started to turn the corner to enter the room.

People smiled at you, greeting you as they usually did in the hallway, but you didn’t respond. You were too nervous, wondering what would happen. You trembled, setting your hand on the doorknob. You shook your head at yourself, slightly scoffing. Like he would do anything on schoolgrounds right? Before you could open the door though, someone from the inside did.

You let go of the doorknob, surprised. No one walked out, so you pumped yourself up for half a second, before stepping in. You cleared your throat slightly, glancing to whoever opened the door. You knitted your eyebrows, not seeing anyone.

“You need to fix my grades.” You jumped at his voice, spinning around in panic. Peter stepped forward, and you wanted to groan at him. He was in his Spiderman costume again, something you just didn’t agree with, seeing as how he was at school, and now with people just outside the room. You tilted back, hitting the door slightly to close it.

“I can’t! And stop- you’re being dumb” You paused, waving your hands out in front of you, just more concerned that his identity would be completely revealed, “Stop that shit.” You pushed out, finishing your sentence.

Peter shook his head back at you, glancing down to his suit. He didn’t have his mask on either. He pushed out a few hours before school, doing an extra shift around the neighborhood, knowing crime rates had gone up in the past month. “I need you to change them back!” He retorted, letting his anger get to him.

He couldn’t believe you were the reason that he was failing a fucking English class. “I don’t understand why you even did it in the first place! Are you just a bad person? That enjoys seeing others like this?” He ranted again, stepping closer to you. He pushed out a plastic bag he was carrying, filled with your notes and objects from your locker. He dropped it between the two of you.

“Peter…” You trailed off, staring down at the bag. “It’s just- I thought it was dumb, that essay you wrote. I know you’re Spiderman and it’s supposed to be a secret, but when you go and write about Spiderman? No, that’s just not safe. I was just pissed off that’s all?” You ended your weirdly apologetic statement with a questioning tone.

Peter stared at you in astonishment. “It’s dumb?” He repeated, throwing his hands up in irritation and anger. You raised your eyebrows back at him, nodding. “As well as you just fucking flying into the school! You know how many times you could have been caught? And what the fuck is that name?” You ranted back, as if feeling his anger flow into you.

Peter felt himself stutter in anger back at you, as the two of you got even closer to each other. “The name? Spiderman? Fuck- I’m sorry that name bothers you to the point you illegally ruin my chances of graduating! You’re such a fucking bitch!” His words came spitting harshly at you, making you shake your head quickly.

“I’m a bitch? Please, what should my superhero name be? Dog-Girl? What’s my superpower, barking?” You scoffed back sarcastically.

You just then realized how close he was. You blinked back at him, feeling heat rush to your face from his closeness and anger. You two were close enough to just almost breathe in the other. It made you have a weird reflection, knowing you probably shouldn’t be arguing with him now. You sighed lightly, watching as Peter shivered at the feeling hitting his neck.

At the same time, you two stepped far back from each other. He glanced down at the plastic bag again, frowning at it. “Since you fucked up my grades, enjoy this fucking gift, Dog-girl.” He muttered, raising his hand to the bag, and activated his web-shooter.

In an instant he shot it out, watching as the solution sprayed itself across your items, “No!” You shouted out, watching as it melted itself into everything, attaching to the floor. You scoffed back up to Peter, rolling your eyes. You needed those notes for history, it was the only thing that could save you today.

Peter felt his heart drop at his actions. It was just a moment of anger, but he could see the pure feeling of lost on your face. Even if it was just for a history class, he felt guilty. Even the people he didn’t like, for example, Flash, wouldn’t have done that. It was just like you did to him though, he didn’t know how to feel now. The two of you stood in silence, until you spoke up.

You licked your lips, squeezing your eyes closed. “You know superheroes have an unspoken rule of hierarchy. Something everyone knows, it’s common sense. Iron-Man would be at the top, something everyone can agree on. He- he almost is seen as an angel, someone who has wings that can cover the whole world in one swoop.” You paused.

“And you? You’re nowhere near him. The only thing that might connect you two, is that your wings are the size of a chicken’s, never going to be able to fly, watching him in envy. You’re never going to amount to anything Tony Stark does.”

Peter didn’t know what to think about other than your words the rest of the day. It burned, stung into him, as if an actual spider had bit him. Even though it was funny that you compared him to a chicken and the wings, he knew that your words held a truth to them. He didn’t know if he could live up to anything of his mentor and father figure.

But at the same time, he’ll die trying.

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reddogf13 · 3 years

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Crossing fates web ch 3

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: Beverly's life had drastically changed since childhood. claws, sharp teeth, the urge to devour human meat. a aggressive clan of vampires trying to claim her forcing her to flee from LA back to Derry for a save haven. where something else has awakened to the sensation that a female deadlight had arrived. a web of coincidences from their pasts have the two questioning fate.

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language and gore

previous chap: Crossing fates web ch 2

next chap: Crossing fates web ch 4

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~ch:3 Comfort foods~

Pennywise had returned to the wagon with a torn apart rib cage in his arms. Something small and easier for her to eat around then dragging a whole corpse to eat in bed. Concerned by the den looking disturbed and the blankets hanging loosely from the bedding. Setting the meal aside he carefully folded the covers back to check on Beverly.

Surprised that she was no longer there with a twinge of pain hitting his chest. “why'd she leave? Was the den not good enough?” examining the den for any slip ups he didn't notice, however it all looked good to him. In his look over he caught the change in her scent across the bedding. It was much sweeter then before as perfectly ripened fruit in a way.

“Shes going into heat.” this making the steaks higher now in his goal to court. Beverly would be catching the attention of every male and there would be competition in courting her. He had a better chance of showing off when maybe one or two others tried courting in the down time. Without her attention torn in so many directions of a gathered crowd of suitors.

He'd have to step up his game, be more confident in what he presented to her. He also had to buckle down on his territory after the vampire incident. That's why the parasite was prowling outside his territory and first thing he did after entering was hunt down Beverly. penny wise wasn't letting any more parasites pass through his town to make more competition. After securing his borders his next step would be to get a dance with Beverly. It would jump him ahead against the rest of the competition even if it was only a little. He had to get her someplace with enough open space and no distractions to ruin it. With her not here any longer he sat at a vanity mirror desk to eat the little meal he brought. Planning where best to start the dance.

The next day Beverly got up for her class with her alarm clock blaring at her. Another cold shower followed by breakfast of pancakes. Her hunger not as aggressive as it was before. Hoping it was due to the pancakes and maybe after all these years her body realized it couldn't keep eating people to survive. In the back of her mind she knew better then to lean on that hope. Heading out the door to walk back to campus. Her car having been left in the parking lot after the fight incident. Arriving just in time to not be late when she reached the classroom door. Sitting through the boring lectures she heard before, with only a slight change to the project due to the upcoming seasons.

The lecturer showing off examples of last years designs paired with matching masks for a masquerade show. What was done best and what not to do. “your next project will be to make a dress you will present in at the schools upcoming masquerade ball. It can be fall, Halloween, or day of the dead themed. You have one week to make both dress and mask. You cannot make a cheap mask from those blank foam pieces at the craft store!” the professor warned before dismissing the class. Handing out packets summering the project on their way out.

Beverly drove straight to the craft store with her student money card for supplies. Looking over various fabrics that caught her eye. Overall making the dress a dark purple that would fade to orange with various colored autumn leaves decorating the bottom hem of the dress. Black sleeves and a black mask to stand out against her pale skin and bright red hair. Snagging new sewing equipment to replace the ones she abandoned in LA.

Driving home to start on clearing her design on paper. Fabrics trimmed to various measurements she took of her self. Getting most of the top half done and the mask completely ready. A simple design to not over shadow the dress as she wanted that to catch peoples eyes the most. Ignoring her hunger she worked for hours into the rising night. Stopping after she started attaching the longer flowing fabric of the dress to its upper half. Satisfied by how much work she had gotten through on the first day. The foundation set and then onto all the heavy detail work.

Groaning out of her chair from having been in the same position for hours. Cracking her back with a stretch of her limbs. Wanting to take a short walk before trying to eat a dinner not involving another person. Stretching further out on her nightly walk around her apartment parking lot. Taking in the cool fresh night air in their small courtyard with slim trees dotted around the grass field. Stomach disturbing the peace with a loud growl. Being out in the night reminded her too much of her hunts in LA.

She had to face it, she needed to hunt a meal at some point. “regular food doesn't cut it. Stop wasting money on something that doesn't work!” arguing to herself in thought. “i don't want to kill people for the rest of my life! Even if they do deserve it.” sighing out to mumble under her breath. “get it over with tonight and I can work without hunger.” enjoying the thought of working on a full stomach. “where to look?” thinking of checking under the bridges where drug dealers hanged out regularly.

Into the night she began her hunt without any rushing. Either she found someone or they made the mistake of finding her. Sometimes if she walked slow enough through alleys the problem would solve itself and she preferred it that way. It felt better taking those actively hunting others then one sitting around waiting. Steps approaching her from the trees catching her attention. Body locking up for the 2nd time in a row.

Pennywise had not expected Beverly to be out walking in the night. He was hunting for himself when he caught a glimpse of her under the street lights. His approach was meant to start a conversation, but instead triggered a dance to start. Caught off guard, but nothing he couldn't handle, soon as he realized. He took a step, then she did, excitement filling him as the courting dance started. He hadn't done one in ages, but had done so many long ago he knew the best tricks. There were no signals to direct a good guess to the male on where to go.

He figured out however that it was more of proper positioning then direction. Females didn't like being approached too head on. It was aggressive to them and they preferred a males approach from the side, almost out of view, but not quite. Younger males gambled on doing a zig zagging pattern in front that was 50/50 of females liking or not. He found his method worked 90% of the time. He was helped by the female not minding him, the ones that did would stare him down directly. Causing any attempts to crash and burn quickly.

Beverly started out the same, but he took his steps slow and avoided staring as he usual did. His stare having prey grow nervous around him, not wanting that effect here. Her aggressive stare back turning away to watch him from the corner of her eye. Steps between them drawing them both closer to the middle. A mere 5 steps away before he could embrace her and complete the dance. If he had a heart it would be thudding in his chest. Warmth building from his lights shaking at the excitement. Reaching out his hand to touch hers she was startled back.

The dance ruined by a loud gun shot echoing through the air. Beverly fled into the darkness like she did the first day she saw him. His chances crushed by some idiot shooting out in the dark woods. He roared at the air in defeated anger. What was he to do now? His chances of courting dropping to be last pick if he was still on her list at all. He already had a major disadvantage due to their past, he couldn't afford mistakes like this.

“what moron?!” pennywise's heartbroken fury locking onto the shooter in the woods. Twisting down into some wolf like beast running on all fours across the forest leaf litter. Snarling hot air out of his mouth glowing a fiery red. Skidding to a halt at the sight of a pack of idiots hooting and hollering over a killed deer. “red neck poachers ruined it for me?!” all the more insulted at knowing who was the cause.

He roared down the steep hill to them, charging down with paws loudly thudding against the dirt. The poachers didn't make out what was coming until it was too late. One tackled to the floor for his face to swiftly be mauled off. The others taking a few shots that didn't do anything to the beast hunting them. Ripping off limbs to eat away the meat right in front of the fallen friends. Their turns coming soon after one another leaving a gory display of mutilated corpses.

“you ruined my dance with her. Makes sense for you to help me make it up!” ripping out each of their hearts and chunks of good meat he didn't turn to shreds. Vowing to himself he'd get another chance to dance with her, somehow. Starting with all this meat to be turned into a wonderful gift shed love to wake up to the next morning. Preparing it as the sun was rising he quickly left it in her apartment. He shouldn't have invaded her space, but this gift he couldn't leave on her outside door mat.

Beverly woke to the strong scent of something that made her mouth drool. Rising up before her alarm went off to find the delicious source. Stopping in the kitchen door way at the sight of a pie strangely sitting on her small dining table. A perfectly round golden crispy pie in a golden pan to serve it in. the top middle having slits to allow the tasty steam freely flow out its top. Exposing its insides to be at least some part meat. A little crust formed to make a small decorative bow atop its over all covering. The closer she got to the pie appearing from no where the harder it was to resist.

Stomach aching to have a chunk of it, her mind skimmed over that earthly smell attached she would hate. Focusing solely on the juicy savory meat scent filling her small apartment. She grabbed a nearby knife to slice up the pie without grabbing a plate or napkin. At this point not even caring how hot the pie could be as she picked up a slice with her hand. Devouring half the slice immediately to start chewing through the meal. It was the best meat pie she had ever tasted before. Taking a quick glance at what it contained only to see finely grounded meat dripping a thick red gravy. Licking the gravy drippings from her hand before shoving down the rest of the lone slice.

She couldn't help but take a slice soon after swallowing down the last bite of the first. It was so filling unlike everything else disappearing to the void in her stomach. Everything got fuzzy before coming to on her remaining last slice. Passing through a blacked out feeding frenzy as she did after digging into a fresh kill. Pausing halfway through her last slice in questioning what was in the pie to make it so irresistible. Stomach satisfied enough that her mind ran clear again she caught that earthy scent. Stomach knotting over what that meant, yet her hunger refused to let her throw out the remaining pie. She had already eaten most of it without any ill effects or seeing anything out of the ordinary. Cautiously eating the last of it before heading back to bed. Catching her remaining few hours of sleep before the alarm officially woke her for the day.

Back to work on her dress as soon as she was up. Pushing all worry to the back of her mind was helped off the burst of energy she got. Due to that she was sure of the meat from that pie didn't come from any animal. Praying that it wasn't a child, with the only clue to it not being that was Pennywise's lack of immediate mocking. He wouldn't resist gloating that she ate children just like him. Shaking her head of the idea to keep on working without ruining the threading out of anger.

It was quiet for the whole week, at least for Beverly. Keeping her self mainly indoors to only leave for more supplies. While Pennywise was heavily patrolling his town for those leeches scrambling around his boarders. They weren't leaving despite him having killed their leader. “what are they waiting for? Still after Beverly?” he snorted toward the air with a laugh. “they wont have a chance.”

watching out for Beverly between his territorial inspections. Tempted to get her more food, but he couldn't keep invading her space to deliver it. He had to wait until she was out for longer then 10 minutes to personally give it. Sighing at when ever that would be. “what is she doing inside all day? Nesting? Nesting wouldn't take that long and not with those crummy fabrics for bedding.” he watched and waited until one day she left her apartment in the night. wearing a lovely flowing fall themed dress for something that must be important.

“was she going to a date?” worrying that some male had slipped by to court her. He forgot that she had a phone and could have been talking with someone this entire time. He followed the short drive to her collage where he figured out why such fancy dress up. The campus having a large “masquerade fall ball” banner hanging over the building entree way. Seeing her put on a mask gave him a grand idea on how to get close. Sneaking in with his own special disguise of dark dress ware far more old fashion and in tune to when balls were held in the olden days. Not his normal Victorian silver clown costume, nor even his clown face. One more human covered by a mask that he found a bit funny in layering on top.

Beverly and her class were called onto the stage for judging. Giving mini report cards afterwards with ratings and judge comments. She beamed at the high remarks under a large A+ on her card. Free to party the ball went on to start dances on the floor or group conversations. Hooked into a small group of classmates talking about their grades and dresses. A few girls she was getting close with to being friends. Talking over hanging out after the ball to do things around Derry for some fun. At one point Beverly wanted to grab another bottle of cola. Separating off from her new friend group in passing through the crowd. Annoyed the place was treated more like a rave with darkness aside from bright lights forming various patterns all over the place.

The corner of her eyes catching a small orange light that stood out from all the cold colors swirling around. A glance paying more attention catching them as a pair of bright golden eyes locking onto her through the dark crowd. She froze and so did he. Surprised she readied for a dance at all in such a cramped area full of distractions. She was certainly a strange one for their species, but her creation wasn't exactly normal in comparison. You were either born as dead lights, or like him, you were one of the originals first created by the other. A cluster of star dust and ever changing energy's crushed together to build a intelligent form.

He was more cautious this round between all the distractions winding between them. Heading toward her more aggressively to keep her focus on him at all times. Reaching a mere few feet away his lights shook in fearful excitement it'd be ruined all over again. When his hand touched her arm he went for the full grab to pull her into him. Hugging her close against him in a gentle warm embrace. Sensing her tense at first then relax into him. Beverly wasn't sure why she did all that, yet something felt right about it.

Something inside telling her to relax around him. Wrapping her arms around him to start into a bit more of a slow dance together. Taking in the large man gracefully dancing with her for what felt like the first time. Picking up that she blanked out again on how the two of them started dancing. Alarm bells going off in her mind she looked over him more though roughly. He was very tall, almost 7 feet with wide shoulders on a muscular build. Bright red hair like hers, pale smooth skin, grey silver eyes … but that wasn't right. His eyes weren't grey the entire time, they were bright like- taking a deep inhale she caught the scent of IT.

The glare he received from her told him he had done something wrong.

Shoved back by her, she bared her teeth at him. “get away from me!” running away again out of the large party room.

He didn't know what he did, however he couldn't let her run away again. They needed to come face to face at some point in order to communicate on anything. It wasn't best to chase her, yet he did through the crowded halls. Shedding his human form to track her easier without restraint. One mistake on her part cornering herself in a large coat closet she thought would be a stair case. Claws out and teeth bared at him shutting the door behind for privacy. He stood back in giving her all the space of the small coat room.

She snapped first. “what do you want?!”

“to speak with you.” he answered boldly. Spotting her condition still not doing well even after that small pie he gave. Did she eat anything at all? “do you want food?”

“not from you.” his answer making her angrier.

“are you having trouble hunting? I could feed you.”

“I AM NOT EATING ANYONE!”

he adjusted his posture to be very lax under her anger. He didn't want to fight her, unfortunately her anger was increasing. “you have to hunt someone. Your deadlights are dim, they'll starve and you'll die at this rate.”

mentioning that she had deadlights catching her attention. Enough to put her claws away that he mistook it a sign he could get closer to speak. “nothing else is working, correct? You have to-” stepping far too close for her liking.

“I AM NOT EATING CHILDREN LIKE YOU!” fully bearing her sharpened teeth in a snarl as she clawed into him for a fight. He bared his teeth right back out of reflex. Not wanting to hurt her he submitted under her aggression. Putting his teeth away as she slammed him into the ground. Pinning him by straddling him while her hands held his head down. Her growling at him dying down as he laid limply under her control. Losing the want to fight against one laying so submissively. She watched him as she stayed where she was in confusion. Tired after all the anger drained from her and unknowing how to proceed in getting off him to run away again.

Thoughts passing through her mind. “Why isn't he doing anything? He said I had deadlights, why, how? Did he do all of this?” starting to shiver off all the Adrenalin draining from her starved body. “no! I cant do this right now! I have to run.” panicking that she had no more energy to fight with.

Her glance toward the door had him bolting up to grab her. Holding her in another tight gentle hug she struggled against before giving in to the comforting surroundings he was providing. He didn't want her fleeing so soon on such negative terms. Soft rubbings along her arms calming her down enough to stop shaking. He moved to show minor amounts of affection. kissing her face to down along her neck to lightly lick across her delicate skin.

The feeling of what he was doing not as gross as she first thought. Giving into the long warm licks leaving behind a trail of heat. His scent sticking to her the longer she was kept in his embrace. That warmth across her skin pooling down to settle at her hips. Relaxing back onto his hips to feel something hard rub her back. That burning ache wanting to feel more of what was beyond the fabric. She shut her eyes in wincing at the need to slam herself down onto something. Mind pushing her to let him taking control. He could do exactly what she needed to cure this wanting ache between her legs. Even that long tongue wrapping around her would do. Imagining that twisting around inside to rub at her walls.

Even the clown under her was tempted to push somewhere more intimate. The scent of her heat churning a fire from his lungs down to his hips. Instead he kept himself under control with all his attention kept to her neck. The more he cared for her the more likely she was to accept his presence being around all the time. His attention giving shut down by her panicking in the shifting mood. Her claws scratching his face having him back down for her to freely be let go. Her attack not as aggressive this time, more flustered by the over attention. Leaving light markings that would heal in seconds.

He didn't chase her this time, being satisfied. He got to complete his dance with her, had her calm in his grasp long enough to not feel threatened. as well as seeing first hand he could arouse her in such a way. He was still a possibility on her list of selections to allow all of that. Tomorrow he would collect more food to present to her. Since she didn't like hunting, he'd hunt for her and prove he would be the best provider.

Unaware, to Pennywise and Beverly, outside of Derry was infested with the vampire clan fighting over who would rule next. One coming out on top after slaughtering all his challengers. A ruthless male lining up his new followers under his fresh position of clan leader. Grinning proudly to himself in satisfaction as he addressed the crowd.

“i told you that old fool would get himself killed. Now I am in charge and unlike him I'll get that female hiding in the beasts territory.” gesturing a hand toward the Derry border. “she'll be mine and we'll be the most powerful pair. All our future children will rule above all the clans! My dear marauders we will grow in ranks from my lead! Go out and hunt freely until we can make the next step.” sending the gathering clan to infest the woods like a plague. No visitors were going to make it into Derry now nor could anyone leave.

The safety of the new morning sun being the only mercy the small town would get from now on. Yet even that now had two predators searching for food. All the stress left Beverly feeling starved in class. Fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, caused by that burning cycle rising to make her on edge. It was a miracle she was able to get notes down for her class, even if it took some deciphering of her shaky chicken scratch. Heading off campus during lunch break to take in the fresh air of the surrounding pine tree forest. Standing under the shade of one tall pine by the slow flowing river. The sounds of running water and its refreshing scent covering the approach of a stranger.

Beverly's attention snagged by the male speaking. A thuggish looking dude with a white wife beater, sleeveless denim jacket. Ripped black pants a greasy mullet and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. “didn't expect such a lovely girl hiding in the forest.”

Beverly subtly let her anger slip through a deep growl. Not in the mood to deal with some creep when she clearly wanted to be alone. “i am trying to get some fresh air. Leave before I decide to fill your shoes with barf.” lightly threatening him, although she wasn't sure if she had anything to throw up.

“your probably sick from hanging out in these woods. Getting attacked from mosquitoes and all the creepy crawlies out here. Ain't safe for a little girl to be in the dark woods. We can go to my place and hang out their with a couple of drinks.” stepping too close for comfort.

“not interested.” Beverly growled again, feeling her teeth shifting to a sharper threat.

“come on.” its not far, grabbing her hand.

Beverly snarled as she lashed out with her claws. God, she hated when morons thought it was perfectly fine to touch her. She could be the rudest person on earth and they still wouldn't take the hint she wouldn't just stand there passively as they felt her up. All of them before him learned their lesson quick, and now was his turn. The memorable feeling of her claws shredding through meat so easily. Like waving a hand through the water, easy with minor push back. Coated in liquid that dripped from the tips of her fingers. The powerful smell most would explain as bitter copper, but not her. For her it was something mouth watering as a juicy hunk of meat finely grilling, covered in rich spices for flavor.

The man, still on his feet with bleeding gashes across his chest let out multiple curses. His words a blur to Beverly as she pounced on him. Ripping a chunk free of his neck to quickly swallow down. Her vision twisting red to a desperate hunger with a single goal, to feed.

Disturbed by a sharp pain to her stomach forcing her to back up. Looking down at a knife wound the man caused before fleeing away between the trees. This was a little surprise for Beverly that wasn't going to slow her hunt in the long run. Chasing after him for another aggressive bite leading into a viscous mauling. Ripping chunk after chunk of meat of the screaming man. Taking even more after he fell silent from the severe wounds he suffered.

Blood dripping from her jaws to stain the collar of her shirt. Sleeves suffering the same fate as her hands dug into her fresh kill. Chewing one mouthful the red vision left her to calm down on a full stomach. Stuck chewing a bit of her meal while not feeling to great. She hated when this happened and rather have full control of her self when doing this. Swallowing down the bite as she looked over the corpse before her. Wanting to take more of her meal, but having her appetite lost. Taking another moment of the surrounding fresh air she caught wind of a scent almost similar to the pines. That underlying brewed coffee snapping her attention toward the source. That clown crouching, similar to her, in the nearby brush. Giving her space around her fresh kill.

“why don't you finish it?” he asked curiously with his usual smile. Receiving aggressively bared teeth in return from her. “you took him down a lot quicker then I expected. How long have you been hunting?” further questions building her agitation.

“go away.” she snapped, about ready to maul him the same as the meal below her claws.

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh

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alastairsqueen · 4 years

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I just finished season 4 of 13 Reasons Why and I have a few things I need to get off my chest.

First of all, the lock down episode was beyond ridiculous. I could understand having a drill at a school for an active shooter situation, but to the extent this school went to? Absolutely not. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a school doing such a thing, and if they have, I can’t imagine parents taking it lightly. Look what happened to Clay. Those students were traumatized. And the bleeding dummies in an earlier episode? Wtf?

Winston seemed kind of pointless. I get he wanted the truth to come out about Bryce because it would clear Monty’s name, but he barely knew Monty, the same guy who beat the living shit out of him at one point. Having sex with someone a couple of times doesn’t equal love. Honestly, I think that whole plot would have been better if Winston and Alex had stayed together, Alex started to trust Winston, and then Alex told him the truth. They already loved one another, basically, so it could have worked out. Learning the truth but also being in love with Alex, I feel like he would have let it go. Both outcomes are the same, but the story progression would have been a lot better. Hate to say it, but I also feel like Alex had a lot better chemistry with Winston in those first few episodes than he did with Charlie. Charlie was super sweet and nice, but I didn’t feel like he meshed well with Alex as much. It was cute how they won prom king and queen, but Charlie had to try way too hard. I guess he figured he had to prove Alex was worth it, but Winston never had to try that hard. That’s why I feel like the chemistry was better and it didn’t feel forced on us.

Also a small shout out to the Zalex kiss. I want to point out that it was obvious for awhile Alex was really gay. Hannah and Jessica joked about it back in season 1, which okay, was just a joke, but in season 2, he said a lot of really inappropriate things to Zach that I don’t feel like most guys would tell their friends, like about how he finally had an erection, and all these other things. We were all shipping Alex and Zach for awhile now because of their close connection, so the kiss did seem like they were baiting us with absolutely no follow through. However, I guess I can’t be terribly upset about it. Zach was weirded out when Alex said inappropriate things in the past, but he let it slide because they were friends. As much as I would have preferred these two to be endgame, I’m still alright with them being really good friends who love one another. And I’m glad that Alex got a happy ending with someone, at least.

Totally glad Ani and Clay did not end up together in the end. From what I saw of comments after last season, most people disliked Ani immensely. Her screen time was even limited this season so I feel like that was kind of their way of pushing her more to the back burner. However, I do appreciate the conversation she had with Clay at prom, how both of them said they don’t know what love is, and that they don’t know how to be in relationships. I think that is probably one of the most accurate, grown up depictions in this entire show.

I sadly think this is one of those seasons that actually would have benefited from the 13 episode length season. With all the stuff we had going on with Clay, especially, and then everything else, I think things needed to be drawn out a little bit more. I still think Clay’s mental illness could have been handled a lot better. I’m glad he finally got therapy, but if someone was at risk of hurting themselves, they hold that person for at least 24-48 hours. When he escaped, he would have been brought right back. And even then, when his therapist said he wasn’t at risk for hurting himself anymore, I didn’t buy it for a second. And some of the things Clay did and didn’t remember seemed kind of strange, imo. I could see the spraypaint as he helped cover up the Monty thing, or even the email, but some of it like the video cameras and torturing his own friends in the woods? I know sometimes things don’t make sense when mental illness is concerned, but it just seemed very poorly written, like they wanted us to think everything was being done by someone else, even though most of it was Clay. Also hated the throw away line in the last eppie when he says that he doesn’t actually see people, that he just imagines conversations he would have with them in his head. What a total cop out. On more than one occasion people caught him talking out loud like someone was there, and they made that such a huge focus after Hannah died. Ugh. It kind of felt like a slap in the face to fans who commented on it.

A longer season would have also given us some really sweet moments and interactions between more of the characters. One of the biggest problems with this show is the personal moments. I felt like this season they were stretched thin, and it just felt like drama, drama, drama and doom and gloom the whole time. Every time these kids have even the happiest of moments, it’s ruined by something.

We get a really sweet prom episode and then it’s just ruined by the ending. The final episode also should have been two separate ones. Having a major death, a graduation, and burying the tapes seemed like a bit much to put in one episode. I get they want to drive home the point that high school is hell, but really?

And as far as Justin goes, the whole back and forth with him getting better, then relapsing makes sense as he’s an addict and it will always be a struggle, but then he gets AIDS and dies? Also, they said he likely contracted it when he was homeless and sold himself, but typically it can take HIV 8 to 10 years before it turns into AIDS, so unless I’m missing something, it progressed really quick? In the show he was homeless at the end of the first season when he ran off and then into the start of season 2, so that’s only a couple of years at the most. Did they mean from another time he was homeless? Like it just didn’t add up. I know everyone is different, and he continued to use drugs, but they could have just had him overdose. I think they wanted to go for more tragic though, really make the audience feel it with all the sad goodbyes. To me it felt more like one of those things they toss in to try and bring ‘awareness’ to a topic, but failed miserably.

Also, the part that got me thinking was how Clay had pot in his system. He lost track of time frequently, but like......Charlie had those cookies on the camping trip, and no one really seemed high, but what if Clay ate one because we later see Charlie with the pot cookies at the party with Alex. Otherwise, they never really explained how he had pot in his system. We just saw him smoke it at the party later on.

The last thing I want to comment on is a couple of moments in the show that really made me go wtf. The first time was with Clay and the passed out girl at the frat house. He goes into the room and the excuse he gives to Bryce in his head is just.........wtf? And he later tells his therapist he was thinking about sex and he was hard. We know that he went in there because he thought the guy was going to rape her and then he saw Bryce, but like.........when he made that comment to his therapist I was just like nope. Later it happens again with Zach and the female escort he brought to prom in the bathroom. These are two characters who have been known to stick up for women, so it’s just like really? I feel like I kind of get what they were trying to go for with the show, like this concept that if you’re fucked up and not in your right frame of mind, on drugs, etc, people are capable of anything, even something terrible, but it just doesn’t work. It was beyond creepy, and I hated it.

I will say I’m glad they actually did a Prom and Graduation episode though. One of the things that annoyed me most about Teen Wolf was we never got any glimpses of them being happy either. It was always plot and drama, never them being teens, so yeah. I’m glad they buried Hannah’s tapes, but like, I really didn’t care about Courtney or Ryan coming back to help bury them as they hadn’t even been apart of most of what happened in later seasons since they apparently graduated. I noticed Sheri wasn’t there either.

I’m sure I could add more, but this is already really long. Basically I have a lot of mixed feelings about the final season.

#13 reasons why #spoilers #thoughts

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queenlists · 4 years

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What-A-Case. #1

A/N: This will have to be in parts. It was becoming too long to be one. This is a special little mashup between Supernatural and American Horror Story. I love the two and thought I should just mash them together! The reader will be the youngest Winchester and no wincest is involved, but the youngest Winchester is a typical Winchester so unprotected SMUT WARNING! The situations with Violet and Viviene are mentioned. Y/m/n means your middle name and Y/n/n means your nickname. I hope you all enjoy this. Thank you for all of the support ✌

Post date: 11/29/2019

"Sammy, time to pack up. We have a case." Dean threw a shirt at a sleeping Sam. "Two, actually." I corrected, zipping up my bag. "Huh? Where?" Sam stretched and squirmed in the creaky motel bed. "Somewhere called Murder House in LA and a hotel. Hotel Cortez." Dean read off on the crumbled notepad paper that he scribbled on. I shrieked in excitement earning glances from my two brothers "I actually read up on both places and I'm so excited! Every family that moves into the Murder House either move immediately out or disappears. How creepy is that?" "Very." Sam scoffed, shaking his head "Any idea of what we might be dealing with?" "Ghosts!" I squealed out on excitement, jumping up and down. "You're way too excited." Dean took a long drink of his coffee.

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First, Murder House.

The drive was exhaustingly long, but eventually we made it. The house was huge and had a personality all on its own. I smiled at the sight of such a beauty. It was an eerie black outside, but it made it easy for us to break inside. Even before we stepped in, the EMF meter was going berserk. Berserk to the point, we all agreed this house had a lot of invisible guests roaming around. As we stepped inside, the house wasn't dark at all. On the outside, the house looked just like any unlived in home. Dark without a sign of life. On the inside, however, the lights were on. There was a silent still in the air, but I could tell this house was alive and loud. I've gone on plenty of hunts before, but none got to me like this one. I was scared. I was very scared.

"(Y/n/n) and Sammy, go upstairs. I'll check out around here." Dean started cautiously moving forward, leaving Sam and I behind. "There is a basement!" I yelled out behind Dean. "We'll hit that together. Go upstairs now!" Dean loudly demanded from the other end of the house. Sam and I glanced at each other, rolling our eyes before heading upstairs. "This house is beautiful." I complimented, peeking into each room. "Right." Sam agreed. I stopped at one room. I didn't stop on my own. Something was blocking me from moving forward. Something was holding me there in place. "(Y/n), you okay?" Sam put his hand on my shoulder causing me to jump out of my skin. I nodded in response. Soon, I was able to move forward down the hall, checking every room.

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"I don't get it. There is a lot of activity, but we have nothing." I sighed. "They don't want us to see them." Sam rubbed my shoulder as we made our way down the stairs. "Oh god!" We heard Dean groan out. "That's coming from the kitchen!" I gasped out. Sam and I ran to the kitchen. I could hear panting getting louder as we neared the kitchen, but didn't think anything of it. Before I could enter, Sam pushed me back. Sam looked disgusted. "Sam, what's going on?" I cocked an eyebrow at my older brother. Before Sam could answer, Dean came out pushing past Sam, zipping up his pants, looking down ashamed. "What was that?" Sam motioned to the kitchen. Dean looked at me and put my hands on my ears before turning back to Sam "We are definitely dealing with ghosts. I may have...you know with one" Dean clenched his jaw before looking back down. "You're a pig!" I gasped before gagging at the thought. Sam rolled his eyes "We're on a case!" "Yeah, I know. Come on, Sammy. She was hot and very ready!" Dean defended. "You can't be serious!" The two started arguing, but my attention was elsewhere. I heard faint footsteps walking up the stairs. I looked back at my bickering brothers before going off on my own. Tiptoeing into the distance, I looked around, following the sound of the footsteps.

Back up the stairs, I went. The footsteps led me back to that door. The door that held me in place for a minute. I heard sniffling coming from the other side of the door. I braced myself before pushing the cracked door open slowly. I saw a teen with his head in his hands. I cautiously moved forward. The floor creaking underneath my feet. The teen snapped his head up before wiping the tears from his face "Who are you guys?" I knew who he was almost immediately. Tate Langdon, school shooter. He was shot dead right here. Right in this room. "I'm (Y/n) Winchester. The other two are my big brothers, Dean and Sam. You're Tate. Tate Langdon." I stared into the teen's red, puffy eyes. Even knowing what he did and what pain he caused, I couldn't help, but feel bad for him. "How do you know me?" Tate sniffled, never breaking eye contact. "I read about you. I know what you did." I bit my lip as Tate looked down. A tear falling down his cheek. I instinctively wiped the tear away, keeping my hand on his cheek. For being dead, he was warm. "I thought I was helping them." Tate sobbed, more tears falling down his swollen face. "You didn't know any better. You were lost." I consoled him, biting at my lip. He sniffled, looking at me smiling a little bit. I felt myself smile along with him. I felt disgusted with him when I read about him and was glad he was dead, but that Tate isn't this Tate. It can't be.

I felt myself leaning in. I don't know why, but it felt right. It all felt right. Tate hesitantly followed my lead, leaning in and soon pressing his lips against mine. I moaned into the kiss. Tate laid me down on his bed, straddling me while undressing himself. I ripped my clothes off as well, pulling him down for another hungry kiss. Tate pulled away "Are you sure about this?" I yanked him back down to me, roughly pressing my lips against his, nodding my permission. Tate leveled himself up with my entrance, not breaking the kiss and didn't hesitate to slam into me roughly again and again. Over and over. I screamed out in pleasure, scratching at his skin and pulling at his long, shaggy hair. He had a lot more stamina than anyone I've ever been with. My eyes rolled back as I moaned out his name. Tate groaned in response. I knew my brothers noticed my absence by now and were probably searching the house up and down to find me, but I didn't care. I didn't care if they heard. I didn't care if they came in. Tate was filling a void inside of me, literally.

"You feel so good." Tate groaned out, biting his lip. I arched my back, sucking in air as Tate picked up the pace. The bed creaked and scratched at the floor. My heart was going a mile a minute, my toes were curled, and I was gasping loudly for air. I watched as Tate bit at his lip and gasped out. I screamed out Tate's name as I reached my high. Tate finished inside of me, panting. Tate didn't stop pushing his seed deeper inside of me until his body slowed down to a stop on its own. Tate leaned down, giving me a long kiss on the forehead before pulling out and getting dressed.

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"Her name's Violet. I love her, no offense." Tate played with the hole in his jeans. "None taken. What we did was pure fun. No strings attached!" I laughed out. Tate smiled at me before looking back to the floor "She found out what I did and things were never quite the same after that. She ended up killing herself. I didn't want to tell her, so I had helped hiding her body. I just wanted her to be happy." I listened as Tate poured his heart out to me. "She found out and began hating me. She doesn't speak to me anymore. She passes by me like I'm not even there. Yeah, I did bad things, but I wish she'd forgive me." Tate started to sob. I held him in my arms as he cried, promising I'd do my best in getting Violet back in his arms.

-------

I skipped down the steps, laughing at myself about what I had just done. I met my two very angry brothers at the bottom of the stairs. "Where have you been? We looked everywhere! You don't leave by yourself especially on a case. You know that!" Dean roared. I rolled my eyes, sighing "I was upstairs. I met one of the forever residents. We need to find Violet." I pushed past my brothers "Violet! I need to talk to you!" I repeatedly yelled out in the open. My brothers were hot on my trail as I kept calling out for Violet. "(Y/n) (Y/m/n) Winchester!" Dean warned as I ignored him, continuing to call out for Violet. "Right here." I snapped my head towards the voice to see a girl that I knew must be Violet. "I have to talk to you about Tate. Hear me out." I began walking towards her. Violet rolled her eyes "About what? About how he wants me back after getting my mom pregnant and hiding my dead body or about how good you felt in bed with him upstairs?" I narrowed my eyes at the amused teen as my brothers began to gasp and grumble. I bit my lip, hesitantly facing my fuming brothers. "You did what upstairs?" Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean crossed his arms across his chest, completely red in the face, nostrils flared huffing and puffing like a bull that was geared up to charge at any given moment.

This case is going to be the death of me.

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realiodelio · 5 years

Text

The Race for Our Lives

Ight y'all it's Ted Talk time.

Calling in a threat isn't funny. It's not a part of your freedom of speech. What it is is terrifying. It's scary.

On Friday, Sept. 27th, around 3:45 p.m, I had just strapped my watch to the handle of an elliptical. A few minutes ago, I had been doing warm ups when one of my cross country coaches told me to go reserve a machine now if I planned to use it later. I left my water bottle in my locker with my things.

I don't know what time anything else happens after this, but here's the main order of events...

I had just gotten back in the line for warm ups, and was trying to catch up to everyone else. I was mentally questioning the freshmen boys who were jokingly fighting. Such a normal thing that even as I type it I'm wondering how it all went so sideways. The upperclassmen boys were joking around with them, but had told them to get back into their warm ups.

Maybe a minute has passed.

Suddenly, my coach comes in. "Everybody outside!" There's confusion. Shock. We were just told a few minutes ago that we were warming up inside today, because of the rain. What was going on? "Don't question it just go. Go, go, GO!"

Everyone got the sick feeling that something was wrong. It was only confirmed when we made it to the stairwell; through the clear glass panels that surrounded us, we could see cars, police cars, right outside the door. "Go, get as far away as you can." My friend and teammate, sobbing as she was struggling down the stairs in her crutches. "Watch out for her!" I remember hearing my coach say. "Don't slow down." I urged the boys around the two of us, before speeding past.

At this point in my mind, I was thinking "bomb threat". Just past the soccer fields I could see people slowing down, and then continuing onwards with a coach leading them. I was running as fast as I could.

My best friend was ahead of me, but I caught up to him in almost no time at all, then passed him. In the back I heard "Keep going!" From his teammate. "I'm not going without my brother!" Had been the response. Maybe calm anger to anyone who didn't know him, but if I had ever heard fear in his voice it was then.

I wasn't leaving without my best friend. Next to me, a boy I was crushing on had smiled and cracked a lame joke "Not like we don't do this every day during practice." I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't want to cry.

I slowed down to cross the road and get onto the trail behind the school. The car I had crossed behind was an off-white color. There were two boys in it looking as terrified as I had felt. My best friend wasn't behind me, at least not directly, and I practically stopped to wait for him and his brother. I needed to know he was OK- that they were okay.

At the end of the back road, my coach stood between the railroad tracks. Near the end of the school day, an announcement had been made saying they were closed. The red warning lights were still blinking, but we paid little heed. "Just keep going that way." The head coach gestured. "Just keep going."

Where? Where to? We had probably all been wondering. Perhaps the park, was my thought, maybe the library? I followed the crowd.

On the way, one of my teammates had slowed to a walk, texting someone. Crying. She's a year younger than I am. "Keep going" I told her. "Keep going. There's nothing you can do right now" I told her. "My foot hurts." She had been injured, I remember. One of many, not including myself. "Just keep going, you can do it." I didn't part from her for the rest of the run.

Several blocks down, an ex-classmate was in a company driveway with her mom. Her car was a vibrant red, like her hair. I gave her a hug "never been happier to see you" and "same here". She offered me and the group a ride, but we denied. We were instructed to cut through the backyard, get somewhere safe.

Maybe 8 meters later, me, my teammate, my best friend, and his brother got past the treeline. The coach who had earlier instructed me to reserve an elliptical was there, directing people to what I recognized as the District Office, or D.O for short.

"Final stretch," I remember joking. The Race for Our Lives.

I made it up the stairs and through the doorway. I needed to see my team. "Too many turns" I thought. "What the fuck. I just want my team."

"Just keep going this way, you'll be safe." Some administration person had told me. I was vaugly aware that I had been mad. At the number of turns? At her? At the shooter? I don't know. Maybe I'll never find out.

Everything after that was a wild blur in which time didn't exist.

Inside the safe zone, I met a heartbreaking sight. The freshmen girls were mostly gathered at one table, all crying. The boys were milling about, mostly on my right. My best friend was nearby- immediately, he got a hug. Girls gathered together, crying and comforting each other, telling their fears and their loves, and frantically apologizing to girls who they had thought there was tension with.

Hugs. Everyone on my team I needed to hug. To touch, to know and see and feel that They Are Safe, My Girls Are Safe. A number of freshmen and sophomores "Oh God, you're okay, I'm so glad you're okay, I was so scared for you. I was so scared." My response had been a surprised "Scared for me? How come? Look, I'm fine!!"

The sentence "I wasn't even worried for myself." Had been a commonality. Most of us worried for those in crutches or boots- later we discovered that they had safely made it into cars, and gotten away. Most people around me were in tears. I wasn't crying. I was laughing nervously, relieved.

Every girl I could hug, I hugged. I hugged my coaches. I hugged my best friend, maybe five times. Cell phones were being passed around, people were using the D.O phone, a phone I had looked at curiously when I came in, wishing I knew the extension number.

I asked my best friend to borrow his phone- I needed to call my mom before word got out. He didn't hesitate to tell me yes.

Three calls. No response. I sent a text explaining the situation, saying I was safe.

I never more regretted not having another phone number memorized.

I was lucky. There was a computer next to the D.O phone where I could sign into my school account and access my emergency contact list. The first person I called was my sister a quick run down of the situation, beginning with "I'm safe". Then I called my aunt, never more grateful she worked from home "Hey. It's me, your neice." I explained the situation and told her the address of the D.O. She said she would come to pick me up

After that was taken care of I continued making my way around the room, talking with people. Administration brought in water and snacks.

I stayed with my best friend until my aunt came to pick me up. Two of my little cousins had come along, glad I was safe and overall nervous about the situation with a giddy curiosity of relief that only kids could have- all the questions they could possibly ask, they did. My aunt offered to buy me dinner from the local restaurant. I acquiesced after the kids had assured me they wouldn't complain.

When we were pulling into the restaurant drive-up, I checked the time again. 5:26 p.m. Only an hour and 41 minutes had passed.

There are a number of details that are hard to place into this story, like me telling my best friend to text his girlfriend- casually reminding him that he doesn't need to have a phone number memorized when apps like Instagram and Snapchat exist. Or how I had told people while crossing the main street that if the cars have stopped, there's no point in waiting, just GO. People had come in several times giving us news updates- there's no active shooter, there's no live threat, they didn't find anyone with a gun in the building. A few mentionings of this getting into national television, but I voiced my extreme doubts about it. There's all the details of apologies I heard and the randomly shared personal facts. There's how I had friends who weren't athletes, other kids who had missed the bus, all in someone's house- some athlete whose mom was an officer, he lived in the neighborhood just across the road. People crowded in bedrooms and sitting on couches and tables and floors. All unsure of what to do, of what to say.

Those are unforgettable details.

We, as a team, were questioning what else would happen. Was there still a team dinner tonight? (Yes, but hardly anyone went) Were we going to race tomorrow? (yes, and we had 14 season Season Records, along with another 14 Personal Records). When we got onto the bus that Saturday morning, nothing was spoken about who had been missing. A silent but mutual understanding ran through the team.

Learning that it had been an anonymous and fake tip off had most people questioning things, especially during the moments we were waiting to get picked up to go home. Even still, people are wondering how such a thing could happen. Both scenarios are despicable. We had all feared the worst, and now we all fear still "What if this was real? What if it happens again, only it's not fake?"

It's sick that kids are going to spend possibly the rest of their educational careers wondering if school is safe. It's sick that this is oddly normal in America. It's sick that we had thought we were running for our lives. It's sick that someone called in a fake report- or even more terrifying, someone called in a report that could have been real.

It was terrifying, and that fear may never leave any of us students. We need to change something about this. I wish that I could have some type of solution, but I don't. I just don't.

That's all for now. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#writing #real life #reality #real talk #thanks for coming to my ted talk #news #local news #high school #scary #teammates #teachers #coaches #back to school #school #school safety #school sucks #school shooting #(thank God it wasn't real)

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yobaba30 · 5 years

Quote

While you're still horrified by the mosque shooting, I'm going to share something I don't normally share. Because tomorrow, it won't be so fresh, and that feeling you have right now, where even a small, kindhearted country like NZ isn't safe won't be filling your heart the way it is right now. That feeling? That fear? That is the feeling that many of us feel every time we set foot in a Mosque. I used to attend one of the larger Mosques in San Diego. It was beautiful and was one of the few places I felt at peace. I took my young niece every week, and she couldn't wait for us to don our hijabs and drive to the Mosque for Friday services, community, and a meal many of us would share together. Then the hate started. I won't share everything that happened, but one day, someone duct taped firecrackers two the underside of several cars while we all prayed. Luckily, they didn't cause the cars to explode, but it changed everything. More things happened, forcing us to hire security guards around the clock to keep us safe. Things began to happen to me outside the Mosque, and one day, someone saw me driving with my hijab on and ran me off the road with a toddler in the backseat. I realized that exercising my freedom of religion and practicing a religion I had practiced in rural KY without issue was putting my family in danger. I stopped wearing hijab and I started parking really far from the Mosque and walking down the winding streets, stopping to cover my head just before I entered because I was so scared. Not for myself, but for my family. As time went on, things only got worse, and there came a point where I couldn't listen to the Khutbah any longer without watching the door, and wondering if today was going to be the day that they would stop trying to get us in our cars and attack us when we were sitting ducks. I moved to Texas, and the haters were even more vocal here. My middle child came home crying because the World Cultures teacher told the class that all Muslims were terrorists no matter what we said to try to hide who we were. My children were bullied for who I was, and I withdrew even more. Then the shootings and the fires started. Nowhere was safe. Not school, not houses of worship, not my own car. It took a while to find a Mosque here. They're not as bold here, tucked away in small communities. I have been to the Mosque here. It is beautiful, and the people are friendly. But every time I step foot in the Mosque, my anxiety skyrockets and I feel like I'm going to die. I've been in two active shooter situations in my life. I have been spit on, shoved and cursed out. And once, a man with a gun on his hip turned to me and said something that made my blood run cold because in his mind, he was the good guy with the gun, despite his t-shirt that clearly proclaimed to "shoot 'em all, and let God decide" with the dead bodies obvious Muslims. Nowhere is safe. And this feeling that you have right now, this is how some of us feel every time we leave our homes. Because every Friday prayer could be our last. Today, families went into Mosques in NZ, ready to sit with loved ones and pray and they were slaughtered. The current climate allowed this. This isn't about some unhinged loner in his parents' basement. When Islamaphobia is normalized, this could be anyone. Because people are afraid to stand up, or if it doesn't affect them, maybe they "mind their own business". Anytime you hear Islamaphobic remarks (and antisemitic remarks because Jewish Americans are not safe, in this climate, either) and you say nothing, you are letting them know that their words mean nothing. You cannot be an ally if you shy away from confrontation. When your family members and friends joke about stereotypes and you avoid conflict, you feed the beast. We need you all to speak out. We can't be the only ones to stand up to the hate. This is the time when allies make a marked difference. We need you to stand up. To say that there is no such thing as a harmless joke or a funny stereotype. Don't say that your father/brother/ grandmother/boss didn't mean "regular Muslims". You can't just let this stuff go, because it grows and it builds up until there is nowhere safe for anyone to worship. Or live. Or breathe. My daughter deserves a world where my heart doesn't skip a beat every time she comes out of school wearing a hijab she snuck in her backpack. On holidays when the kids can come to Khutbah, I shouldn't wonder if "Thanksgiving Massacre at [name] Mosque" is going to be the next headline. To be forgotten a week later. This is our daily life. When the headline is replaced with another tragedy & memories of today fade, we will still be in danger in our homes, spit on, yelled out, our Mosques burned, vandalized, and our women unsafe because of a piece of cloth. Don't just speak up today. Don't think a hashtag dedicated to the victims makes you an ally. Speaking up anytime you see something, boycotting celebrities who spread antisemitism & Islamaphobia, & educating your family is how you show your 'allyship'. We need you. Your voice matters. Please, speak up and don't stop until this world is safe for us all.

Vianna Goodwin, Twitter

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jeanjauthor · 5 years

Text

I post things that are well-said because I admire language that reaches in, clasps your heart, and either massages it...or crushes it.

Today...this is heart-crushing, heart-wrenching.

I am going to post Vianna’s thread in essay form, because the impact of her words, of her daily experience, should not be broken up by character limits.

This message has the right to impact us all.

https://twitter.com/GoodwinVianna/status/1106412865408385024

That feeling? That fear? That is the feeling that many of us feel every time we set foot in a Mosque. I used to attend one of the larger Mosques in San Diego. It was beautiful and was one of the few places I felt at peace. I took my young niece every week, and she couldn't wait for us to don our hijabs and drive to the Mosque for Friday services, community, and a meal many of us would share together.

Then the hate started. I won't share everything that happened, but one day, someone duct taped firecrackers two the underside of several cars while we all prayed. Luckily, they didn't cause the cars to explode, but it changed everything. More things happened, forcing us to hire security guards around the clock to keep us safe. Things began to happen to me outside the Mosque, and One day, someone saw me driving with my hijab on and ran me off the road with a toddler in the backseat. I realized that exercising my freedom of religion and practicing a religion I had practiced in rural KY without issue was putting my family in danger.

I stopped wearing hijab and I started parking really far from the Mosque and walking down the winding streets, stopping to cover my head just before I entered because I was so scared. Not for myself, but for my family. As time went on, things only got worse, and there came a point where I couldn't listen to the Khutbah any longer without watching the door, and wondering if today was going to be the day that they would stop trying to get us in our cars and attack us when we were sitting ducks.

I moved to Texas, and the haters were even more vocal here. My middle child came home crying because the World Cultures teacher told the class that all Muslims were terrorists no matter what we said to try to hide who we were. My children were bullied for who I was, and I withdrew even more. Then the shootings and the fires started. Nowhere was safe. Not school, not houses of worship, not my own car.

It took a while to find a Mosque here. They're not as bold here, tucked away in small communities. I have been to the Mosque here. It is beautiful, and the people are friendly. But every time I step foot In the Mosque, my anxiety skyrockets and I feel like I'm going to die.

I've been in two active shooter situations in my life. I have been spit on, shoved and cursed out. And once, a man with a gun on his hip turned to me and said something that made my blood run cold. Because in his mind, he was the good guy with the gun, despite his t-shirt that clearly proclaimed to "shoot 'em all, and let G-d decide" with the dead bodies obvious Muslims. Nowhere is safe.

And this feeling that you have right now, this is how some of us feel every time we leave our homes. Because every Friday prayer could be our last. Today, families went into Mosques in NZ, ready to sit with loved ones and pray and they were slaughtered. The current climate allowed this.

This isn't about some unhinged loner in his parents' basement. When Islamaphobia is normalized, this could be anyone. Because people are afraid to stand up, or if it doesn't affect them, maybe they "mind their own business". Anytime you hear Islamaphobic remarks (and antisemitic remarks because Jewish Americans are not safe, in this climate, either) and you say nothing, you are letting them know that their words mean nothing. You cannot be an ally if you shy away from confrontation. When your family members and friends joke about stereotypes and you avoid conflict, you feed the beast.

We need you all to speak out. We can't be the only ones to stand up to the hate. This is the time when allies make a marked difference. We need you to stand up. To say that there is no such thing as a harmless joke or a funny stereotype. Don't say that your father/brother/ grandmother/boss didn't mean "regular Muslims". You can't just let this stuff go, because it grows and it builds up until there is nowhere safe for anyone to worship. Or live. Or breathe.

My daughter deserves a world where my heart doesn't skip a beat every time she comes out of school wearing a hijab she snuck in her backpack. On holidays when the kids can come to Khutbah, I shouldn't wonder if "Thanksgiving Massacre at [name] Mosque" is going to be the next headline. To be forgotten a week later.

This is our daily life.

When the headline Is replaced with another tragedy & memories of today fade, we will still be in danger in our homes, spit on, yelled out, our Mosques burned, vandalized, and our women unsafe because of a piece of cloth.

Don't just speak up today.

Don't think a hashtag dedicated to the victims makes you an ally.

Speaking up anytime you see something, boycotting celebrities who spread antisemitism & Islamaphobia, & educating your family is how you show your allyship.

We need you.

Your voice matters.

Please, speak up and don't stop until this world is safe for us all.

...~twitter@goodwinvianna

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indecisive-asexual-space-dork · 5 years

Text

Losing the Stars

The house was quiet that morning, sunlight streaming in through the shutters of their bedroom window. Patton awoke with a smile, leaning over to kiss his husband. “Good morning starshine.” he whispered, brushing Logans messy curls out of his face and handing him his glasses. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Mmmm. Good morning, My Love.” Logan greeted, pulling his glasses onto his face. He smiled at Patton, affection clear in his green eyes. “Happy anniversary.” he whispered, nuzzling more into Patton's solid chest. He checked the time and groaned, pulling the blanket up over his head in clear discontent. “Can’t the youths educate themselves?” he asked, muffled by Pattons skin. Pouting as his husband laughed. He stood and began to get dressed, glancing momentarily at the picture beside his computer. The two of them on their first date, smiling lovesick at each other.

“No, unfortunately not.” Patton chuckled, smoothing his husbands curly hair back. He scooped up the tiny man, carrying him into the kitchen and dropping him into a chair. He set to work making breakfast for the two and their son, smiling as Elliott made his way into the room. The teen kissed both of his dads on the cheek, looking a bit troubled. “Whats up Kiddo?” Patton chirped, dropping a kiss to his sons hair.

“Nothing, just Mikey being dramatic again.” Elliott assured, seeing Logan frown. The nerdy man did not approve of his sons boyfriend, a common point of contention in their household. Logan got a bad feeling from the young man, citing it as being a similar feeling as he had with his own ex boyfriend who had abused Logan for years, though he had never mentioned that bit to their son. Patton tugged on one of Logan's curls, setting his plate down in front of him. “No fighting today Starshine. Its our anniversary.” He decreed, sitting down to eat with his two favorite boys.

Later Patton would wish that he had encouraged Logan to stay home.

❧❧❧

Five hours later and Patton Sanders was awfully bored. He was waiting for his husband to return home so that they could celebrate their five year anniversary. He put the finishing touches on the cake he had baked, smiling in satisfaction. Patton finished setting up the table, glancing at the clock. Logan was due in a few hours. His husband had been staying after school to help the Academic Decathlon students prep for their competition. He had promised to be home early tonight though and Patton was almost shaking with excitement. He had promised to drop off their son Elliott at Romans earlier so the poor kid wouldn't have to be privy to their…. Activities later.

Patton glanced at the clock once more, nibbling at his lip. Logan had promised to be home by four, the clock was ticking past two thirty. Patton flipped on the radio to hopefully calm his nerves. He later wished he had called his husband and checked up. He heard his text alert go off, checking his phone.

Starlight: I love you Patton.

Patton smiled, returning the sentiment. He tuned back into the radio, phone falling out of his hand, screen shattering on the tile floor. “This just in, there are reports of an active shooter at Foley high school. There is no word on casualties just yet, but stay tuned.” The overly-cheery voice of the reporter chirped, Pattons blood running cold. He grabbed his keys from the dish on the table, practically sprinting to his car. He felt tears running down his face as he drove. They had chose their house thanks to his proximity to the school where they both worked, but now all Patton could think about was how someone could enter their neighborhood and do harm to his son. He thought about Logan and his throat tightened. Emile needed his Father, Patton needed his husband. He pulled up to the school, emergency personnel swarming around him.

Patton exited the vehicle, catching Thomas, one of his favorite students, into a hug. “Its okay kiddo. You're safe.” He promised, feeling his racing heart. He turned the boy over to Virgil, Romans husband and the schools senior english teacher. He fought his way through the crowd, pushing people aside in an attempt to spot his husbands trademark tie and polo. A “Bang” broke through the air as the double doors swung open. Patton made eye contact with the manic looking young man as he was escorted out by police. Mitchell, Elliotts boyfriend. Pattons heart stopped at the sight of the boy his son loved. He looked past them into the school, breaking through the crowd and rushing into the science wing of the school towards the history hallway in search of his husband.

Patton felt bile rise up in his throat as he caught the sharp, metallic smell of blood in the air. He heard sobbing coming from the hallway next to him, ignoring it in favor of finding the love of his life. He tripped over something, glancing back and almost losing his lunch. Remy, Logans aide, heterochromatic eyes glassy with lifelessness. His token sunglasses crushed under someone's foot. “Oh kiddo No.” he sobbed, feeling for any sort of pulse. He was too late. He brushed Remy's curls form the boys face, shedding a tear for the snarky boy.

Patton stood shakily and made his way past all of his kids, chest shaking with sobs for these children, some still alive and reaching out for help. His eyes found a black polo, chest tightening at the crimson blood pooled around his husbands body. “Logan baby?” He asked, cupping his face. Logans eyes slid over to Patton's face, body wracked with a cough that splattered warm blood across Patton's freckled cheeks. “P-Patton?” he asked weakly, hand coming up to Pattons cheeks. “Why are you crying? Its our anniversary remember?” He joked with a weak smile. This just caused Patton to sob harder, clutching his husband to his chest. They had so much planned. They had a son! Logan couldn’t be dying. He just couldn’t! He combed his fingers through Logans hair, careful not to disturb the bullet hole through his stomach. “I love you starshine.” he whispered, needing logan to hear it before he…. Patton shook off that thought, hearing paramedics surround them. They loaded Logan onto a stretcher, letting Patton into the ambulance with them, much to his gratitude.

“Logan, baby. Stay with me.” Patton begged, seeing his husbands eyes begin to close. “Please baby. I can’t lose you. Not now. W-We have so much planned, remember? We were going to take Elli on his driving test tomorrow, and we have that trip to Nasa this summer? I can’t do any of that without you. I can’t do anything without you. I need you right here with me. I want to argue with you about sweets, or about whether or not to get another dog. Don’t leave me alone. You promised Logan!” he sobbed into Logans chest, hearing his heartbeat beginning to slow.

“Patton. I-I Love you.” Logan whispered, grip weak on his husbands hand. He had to tell Patton. It always helped when Patton was crying, Logan hated seeing Patton cry. He didn't want to die without seeing Patton's smile one last time. He loved Patton's smile. It could light up the entire world. Logans eyebrows furrowed as his words just made Patton cry more. Logan squeezed his hand. “Patton. It’s okay. I promise.” he insisted. Patton just shook his head, the grip on his hand growing too weak. “I love you.” Logan whispered once more, eyes falling shut for the last time.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital, though it was too late. A cardigan wearing man sobbed as he clutched the love of his life. “You promised Logan. Y-You promised that you wouldn't leave me. Remember? Logan wake up! You promised! Logan Torres wake up!” he begged, shaking like a leaf. “Please.” Patton took in Logan's face. Always so beautiful. “Starshine. Please. I can’t do this without you.” He sobbed as he was dragged away. Later the doctor would come by and offer apologies, stating that “They did all they could.” which did nothing to help the sobbing man.

❧❧❧

It was sunny on the day of Logan's funeral, which Patton found unfair. Logan Torres was dead, nothing should be bright. No birds should sing today. He stood beside their son, in his itchy black suit and watched as a preacher who had never met Logan talked about him. The past few days had been… difficult to say the least. Patton saw him everywhere. At home he still waited before going to bed, hoping beyond hope to be joined by the pale man. He ordered his fries without salt because Logan preferred them that way. Patton saw him in the hallways, a flash of the black polo, a streak of those gorgeous eyes, but those glimpses were of memories from a better time. All the students would look up hopefully when the door opened, waiting for the nerdy teacher that threw candy when they got answers right. He was overworking himself, logically he knew that, he wasn't sleeping, barely eating and hadn't showered in more than two weeks. The only problem was that he was unable to force himself to leave the desk where he sat, writing their love story. Logan would have chastised him but he was gone. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

#logan sanders #logicality #patton sanders #angst #school #death tw

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sturdy-nerdy-stitchery · 5 years

Text

Marking myself safe

I'm sure a lot of you are seeing it on the news or seeing it shared on Facebook... But I live a 2-minute drive or a 15 minute walk away from where we just had an active shooter incident at a factory building by my house... I've seen this Factory building in the past when I would go for walks to get exercise...

The shooter has been apprehended... However I first heard of something going on when about four or five or six emergency vehicles sped past my house and then my friend texted me saying to stay in my house because she was hearing rumors of an active shooter situation

And then my neighbor was messaging me saying the same thing

And then Facebook blew up and they're alive news feeds on ABC news and NBC news and CBS news and WGN...

I can still hear some of the news helicopters circling in the sky and there is a Catholic School just 7 blocks from my house that is probably only three blocks from the building that this happened at...and last spring I would take my daughter for a walk and we go to the playground to play and some of these children would be coming out for recess and I remember some of their faces... And I never talked to any of these children personally but a few would come up because Amelia was so cute at being her toddler self prepaid. And so I think about these kids who were on hard lockdown until the shooter was apprehended and that their parents couldn't pick them up

I'm not going to lie when this whole situation was going down I was extremely scared and I had my doors locked and my blinds closed and the plan was that if I heard any update that it had escalated or if I started hearing gunfire then I was going to wake my toddler from her nap and her and myself and the dog were going to go into the basement to stay safe

and I'm sure my husband was equally worried because he works 30 minutes away and he probably has to wonder if I'm okay until he can hear updates from me which thankfully I was updating him as often as I could from watching the news

But it is just so damn scary... And it makes me so angry that this happened and it makes me think about gun laws and how the government isn't doing anything about it and how this keeps happening as an issue and I still know people who tell me that common Sense gun laws aren't going to do anything or that they have a right to bear arms and all about the second amendment

I just want to go to these people and scream in their faces about how scared I was and how it was so close to home and that I would be ten times more terrified the moment I heard gunfire outside of my house...I just want to go to these people and scream in their faces about how none of this would have ever happened or the risk of it happening would have been so severely minimal if we had had proper gun control laws in our country...maybe the still would have happened it's hard to say but it just makes me think and it makes me angry

and the press secretary has been informed and the president has been informed and they're going to keep an eye on the situation but that makes me angry to because it's not like he's going to care

the news has reported that there are several casualties as well as many injuries and let my neighbor just said that her cousin works at that particular building and that she knew someone who got shot

And police officers have gotten shot and I believe a police officer or two may have been killed

I'm just feeling so many emotions about this right now and I am just so glad and so thankful that I'm safe and that it didn't escalate outside of the building and it's just so scary that it happened 2 minutes away... I can hear the helicopter circling and I could see the medevac helicopter lifting up from the park that is just three blocks away

and I don't care that this is not stitching related because this was very important that I share and it was very scary and I just urge people to advocate to make this country safer...

Oh hey! I'm watching live Air helicopter news coverage and I think I just saw my house!

#news #breaking news #latest news #active shooter #gunfire

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sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years

Text

Mutate

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers + X-Men - Peter Parker/Spider-Man, Tony Stark/Iron Man + Charles Xavier/Professor X

Rating: PG

Original Idea: I was cleaning my grampa’s house while my imagination was off in La La Land (not the movie, I mean daydreaming) and this just kind of appeared.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) HUGE thanks to the NerdSync YouTube channel for informing me on the difference (in the Marvel world) between a mutant and a mutate. (Also this one is LOOOONG!)

^^^^^

“Knock-knock,” a British voice piped up from the doorway. I turned around, setting the duster down. I’d been dusting under the gazillion knick-knacks in the X-Mansion as one of my chores.

“Hey Professor,” I greeted.

“Good morning Miss Marble. May I have a word with you?”

“Of course.”

There was a brief pause. “Alone?” Professor Xavier pressed.

I glanced around at the empty parlor. “… We are alone,” I pointed out, confused.

“Yes. But I mean, downstairs.”

Realization dawned. My face went slack. “Oh. Oh!”

Downstairs. Under the mansion—in the X-Men base. While I’d been attending the Academy as a student, rather than a part-time teacher, Professor X asking the teachers to meet him downstairs ASAP meant that official X-Men business was happening.

I followed him down into the rounded corridors, looking around in awe. I’d been teaching since I was eighteen—so three years ago—and yet had only been downstairs once before. And I’d been unconscious in the infirmary for most of it so I didn’t really remember it well.

“So what’s going on? I assume I’m not graduating the Academy again and not becoming an official X-Man—or Woman, whatever,” I asked.

Professor Xavier’s wheelchair stopped. “Do you remember the saliva sample you gave me and Hank the other week?”

“Yeah.”

“We ran your genetic code,” he informed me. “And the results might… improve your life.”

“How so?”

“Well, with no sugarcoating: you’re not a mutant.”

I blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?” I stammered. “Not—not a mutant? How?”

“There is no trace of the X-gene in your DNA. You were not born with your powers. You are what’s known as a mutate, not a mutant,” Professor Xavier explained. “Now the outside world has no reason to hate you as they do most mutants. I don’t know how you got your powers, young one, but you weren’t born with them. Your powers lie somewhere else in your DNA and that’s what makes you different and special.”

As he spoke, I backed up, my hand feeling behind me. There was no chair in the corridors to sit in so I hit the wall with my back and slid down it, landing heavily on the floor. I stared into the middle distance blankly. “Not a mutant,” I whispered.

“No. Some other part of your genetic code was mutated to give you your powers. We’re not sure what, but it’s not the mutant gene.”

“What do I—what do I—what do I do?” I stammered again, trying to gain my thoughts. “I can’t stay here. I don’t belong. Once the kids find out I’m not actually one of them there’s no way they’ll accept me. I… I have to leave. But I have nowhere else to go. I’ve known nothing but this school since I was ten-years-old.” I was rambling, thinking out loud with no direction.

“You don’t have to go,” Professor Xavier remarked. “You’re always welcome here.”

“No. No. This isn’t the place for me. This is a safe zone for mutants. And I’m not one. I need to leave. I’ll finish out the semester but once summer hits I need to find something else. I can’t… I can’t be here. The kids despise mutates—they’re celebrated for the same powers mutants are hated for.”

“That’s not true. They don’t despise mutates.”

“You don’t hear them talk after-hours.”

“No, but I do hear them think. People’s minds are a lot more honest than their mouths.” He sighed. “I knew you’d react like this, young lady. So I’ve already placed a call to a facility upstate. The manager is a friend of mine. I told him about the situation and he said he’d be happy to accept you into his operation. You’d be safe to stay there.”

“A facility upstate? What random manager would let a random, superpowered twenty-one-year-old into whatever it is they do there? Who is he?”

Professor X smiled. “His name is Tony Stark,” he replied.

My mouth dropped open. “Iron Man?” I breathed in awe.

“Yes. He agreed to take you in and let you train as an Avenger. He expects you at the semester’s end.”

I slouched against the rounded wall with a sigh. “An Avenger… wow. Uh… okay. Thank you, Professor.”

^^^^^

I rang the gate’s intercom. There was a twenty-foot wall around the entire compound.

There was a loud buzz—that made me jump—and the gates opened.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I scooped up my suitcase and strolled up the path. Logan honked the horn of the car and waved at me before driving away. I waved back as the gate closed, shutting me in and the world out.

When I made it to the front door, I pressed the doorbell. The front door was glass—in fact, almost everything was glass. I’d never seen an exterior with so many windows before—except that one time I went to New York City with Ororo when I was like seventeen as something of a field trip with a couple other students.

A young man about my age was strolling by with a half-eaten donut in one hand. He came over and opened the door. His hair was curly and brown, as were his eyes—without the curly bit.

The young man looked me up and down, taking a bite out of his donut. I returned the gesture, sweeping him with my eyes. He had on a T-shirt that had the Periodic Table of the Elements on it and a font that looked like handwriting across the chest reading, How often do I wear this shirt? Periodically. I couldn’t help but snort slightly.

He looked over his shoulder to shout into the building with his mouth full, “Tony! There’s a really cute girl at the door. Are we expecting her or do I need to kick her out?!” His tone was joking but also curious.

I turned bright red. A really cute girl? How flattering.

Another figure appeared in the doorway. A bit taller than the first and a lot older. He gave me a wide smile. “You must be Miss Marble—the mutate who didn’t belong,” he greeted, extending a hand. I took it and shook it.

“That’s me,” I replied.

“I’m Tony. This is Peter. Excuse his social skills,” Tony remarked, sort of kidding.

I shook Peter’s hand when Tony passed my hand to Peter’s. “Charmed,” I offered.

“Mutual,” Peter agreed.

Tony clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. “Well, kids, normally I’d give the newbie the grand tour, but Peter, I think you’re her age so I’m going to let you do it instead.” He gave me a toothy smile and strolled into the building. I watched him disappear with arched eyebrows. Peter’s cheeks were slightly pink when he looked back at me.

He cleared his throat. “He’s, uh… a bit eccentric,” he commented.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I retorted sarcastically.

“Here. Let me get your bag. I’ll, uh, show you to your room.”

“I can get it. I’m a strong girl.”

“Well I understand that, but see, I’m trying to be a gentleman and make a good first impression. It’s not every day a pretty girl turns up at the door.” He smiled cheekily. “How old are you, anyway? Tony’s not the best judge of age.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

Peter arched his eyebrows. “Really? Wow. We are the same age. Okay then.” He took my bag handle from my grip and gestured for me to come into the facility. I crossed the threshold.

Nothing would ever be the same again. I wasn’t a mutant. I could become an Avenger.

The facility was high-tech, with the Avengers logo emblazoned on everything. Well, almost. It felt like it was. I followed Peter up some stairs and down a couple corridors to a long hallway with lots of doors. “This is the main living area with all the rooms. At the end of the hall is the huge common area—there are about a dozen couches with various activities and stuff and a kitchen nearby. Downstairs is the lap pool, the screening room—which is Tony’s phrase for ‘home theater’—also the gym and a couple other things. I’ll show you those when we get there. But for now… your room. Pretty sure it’s the one next to mine since Tony recently had it renovated,” he explained.

“Oooookay,” I agreed, not entirely following everything he said.

“But it’s the one on the opposite side of mine from Vision’s. Be careful with him—he’s not too big on doors or walls. He can and will probably walk in on you straight through the wall in any kind of awkward situation. Like, I ended up upside down in a tangle of webs after trying to fix a malfunction in my web-shooter and he strolled right in, not even realizing anything was abnormal. Though, to be fair to him, when you live in a building full of superpowered people, nothing really is abnormal. The crazy is the usual.”

“So, then, you’re Spider-Man,” I stated.

He swore under his breath and then sighed. “Welp. Guess you would’ve found out sooner or later… Yeah. Yeah I am,” he admitted. He took me down the hallway and into a room.

The bedroom was, if possible, even nicer than the one I occupied as a teacher at the X-Mansion. It was more modern, to be sure, but it was bigger and the bed looked so comfortable it made me sleepy just to look at it.

I smiled at Peter as he set my bag down in front of the closet. “This is really nice,” I decided.

“Glad you think so, Miss Marble,” a disembodied Irish lady’s voice agreed from nowhere. I jumped and looked around frantically.

Peter chuckled. “That’s just FRIDAY. She’s Tony’s natural-language-user-interface. A voice-command computer program. Kinda like Siri—if Siri ever actually functioned properly. She runs through the whole facility. Makes everything a lot easier—though, sometimes a little scary when you’re not expecting her,” he explained.

I nodded. “Okay,” I muttered. I lifted my voice. “Hi there, FRIDAY.”

“Hello Miss Marble. A pleasure to have you with us. I look forward to working with you.”

“Uh… thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Peter smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get settled in. If you need anything, feel free to let me know. FRIDAY can send me a message or find me so you can talk face-to-face. Whatever’s comfortable for you. It’s nice to have someone my age around here. Won’t make me feel like the others baby me.”

I snickered. “Well, I look forward to getting to know you better,” I offered.

Peter blushed. “You too.” He slipped out my door—and then quickly returned. “Hey, so, when you’re done unpacking, let me know and I’ll come get you and take you on a tour.”

“Sounds good.”

“And, uh, maybe I could take you out to lunch somewhere? There’s a nice local diner in the nearby town that we all like. I’m sure you’re tired from travelling but food lifts everyone’s spirits. If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I know we just met but I’d really like to get to know you if you’re going to be here for a while and it doesn’t have to be a date—” He spoke so quickly I almost didn’t understand what he was saying, but I laughed and cut him off.

“Peter. It’s fine. I’d love to join you. Best to get to know people right off the bat, right?”

He flushed red. “A-absolutely!” he exclaimed with a bit of a stutter of nerves. “Um… right. Call me when you want the tour.”

I grinned. “I will.”

He ducked out of my room again. I chuckled and fell onto the bed. He was right about many things, but in particular, that I was tired from travelling. Even just the drive upstate made me want to take a nap.

But I had work to do. I had to become an Avenger. And I couldn’t do that if I didn’t unpack and meet the other Avengers.

I got off the bed, set my hands on my hips, and set to work.

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hellogoodbye741 · 6 years

Note

A very young but badass Clint Barton with the avengers

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, IT’S HARD DOING THINGS ON TUMBLR WITH JUST MY CELL PHONE. THIS FIC RAN AWAY FROM ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!

Read it here at:G is for Grounded or under the cut below!

“So how come he can be an Avenger, but I can’t?”

Clint pushed at Peter’s shoulder, “Because you’re smarter than me and need to stay in school.”

“Unfair!!!!”

Clint raised an eyebrow, “You want to drop out of school?”

Peter looked down at the ground and kicked his foot back and forth, “Maybe.”

“No you don’t. Besides, you still get all the cool powers - just without all the Avengers bureaucracy bullshit.”

“But why don’t they force you to go to school?”

Clint shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m not smart enough. Now, get going before your Aunt May has a conniption fit. We’ll hang out later, okay?”

Peter sighed, but didn’t argue.

*******

Clint jumped off the building right as it exploded, his rappel arrow already flying towards the closest solid, non-falling, object.

“Don’t go through the window. Don’t go through the window. DON’T GO THROUGH THE WINDOW” Clint screeched as his body propelled him through the flimsiest glass he had ever had the pleasure of going through.

“Fuck me” He gasped as he lay on the floor.

“Language!” Tony screeched as he flew past the building.

“Jesus Stark, let the kid curse. Didn’t you read the science article that said cursing helps you get through pain?” Steve said over the comms with a laugh.

“Don’t you try and argue science with me, Steven. The children aren’t allowed to curse.”

Clint groaned and stood up. “Hey Tony?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.”

Tony gasped in mock horror.

Clint rolled his eyes, “I’ll be on the ground in 5. The building exploding should have taken care of most of the whatever the fucks we’re fighting.”

“Be careful!” Tony yelled over the comms.

“I’ll be sure to trip down every flight of stairs for you Stark.”

“You’re a terrible child. You’re killing me Clint. You’re killing your father.”

Clint snorted and made his way down the stairs. “Not my father. You can’t just adopt every teenagerthat shows Avengers potential my dude.”

“I can try!!!”

“Can we please keep the chatter to a minimum gentlemen? Some of us are actually doing our jobs.”

“Sorry Tasha”

*******

“What are thoooooooose!!!!”

Clint looked over at Peter, then down at his shoes. “…My converse?”

“But what the hell did you do to them?”

“Jesus, they’re just purple and blue. It’s not like I put a face and clown nose on them.”

Peter sighed and shook his head, “If you weren’t my friend I would roast the fuck out of you.”

Clint tipped his head, “You’d do what now?”

“Roast you.”

“Cook me? What the fuck Parker??”

Peter shook his head. “You were in the circus for too long, you don’t know any memes do you?”

“Any what?”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Come on, we’re gonna go skype Shuri.”

Clint frowned and followed behind Peter, very confused about what was going on.

*******

Clint stood in front of the mirror in the gym and looked at his reflection. A scarred body with an exhausted look to it stared back at him. The boy in the mirror was only 17, but he looked much older.

Clint had seen a lot in his short life, and a lot of it showed if you looked close enough. Shaking his head, Clint turned away from the mirror and walked over to his weapons cabinet. Once there, Clint opened up a secret compartment and pulled out his broadsword.

It was three in the morning, he should be in bed like everyone else, but he just couldn’t.

Every time he closed his eyes his past would flash by his eyelids. It was driving him insane.

He knew his best course of action would be to train himself to exhaustion.

He would usually go for his bow, but today he just knew that wouldn’t be enough.

No one knew that he had ever been trained on the broadsword. No one knew what he used to have to do with this weapon.

Though, in their defense, they didn’t know a lot about Clint period.

Taking the sword from its sheath, Clintswung it back and forth a few times before facing his imaginary opponent.

Taking a deep breath, Clint got himself into position.

Clint put his sword away an hour and a half later, finally ready to go to bed.

“Avengers Assemble!!!”

Clint groaned. “Shit”

*******

Peter looked over at Clint. “Are you dead?”

Clint groaned from his prone position on the floor of Peter’s bedroom. “No. Unfortunately.”

Ned looked over at Peter, before switching his gaze back to Clint. “Should I like… Call an ambulance?”

“No, I’m good. Just needed a nap where no one could find me.”

“Cool. Ned and I are gonna work on some homework, we’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you!”

Clint closed his eyes again and curled into a tight ball. Right as he was drifting off he could swear he heard Ned whisper to Peter. “Holy shit that’s Hawkeye!!!”

“I told you I knew him!”

“That’s so fucking cool.”

Clint walked out of Peter’s bedroom two hours later with a yawn. “Thanks Peter”

Peter waved a hand. “It’s cool. You gonna head back to the tower?”

Clint shrugged. “Maybe. Not much to do there to be honest.”

“What wouldn’t there be to do? It’s the Avengers tower!”

Clint laughed at Ned and sat down next to him at Peter’s kitchen table. “Sure, if you want to watch TV or go to the gym for sixteen hours of your day. Everyone is a lot older than me and has their own problems and issues. Not much time to hang out with a teenager, you know? Sometimes I feel like I only exist when there’s a call for service.”

“That’s how I feel too! At least you’re actually an Avenger.” Peter grimaced. “I’m just the friendly, neighborhood Spiderman.”

Ned nodded. “Which is totally cool, not gonna lie Pete. But like, you’re an Avenger dude!”

Clint nodded. “Yeah I know, I know. But just because I am an Avenger, doesn’t mean the Avenger is me. Sometimes Clint wants to go to the mall and hang. But I’m not really allowed to go out without one of the Avengers with me.”

“Oh wow… That sucks.”

Clint sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Peter and Ned looked at each other.

“So… How about you play hooky a little longer and hang with us for a bit?” Peter asked.

Clint smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

*******

“In latest news, heroes Hawkeye and Spiderman were seen helping civilians in the latest home grown terrorist attack. While out at the park yesterday evening, an active shooter began to open fire on the unsuspecting public. Within minutes you can see that both the heroes were on the scene and were actively fighting the shooter. It seems that in the crossfire, Hawkeye has been injured. Unknown what his injuries are at present. There were no other causalities and only minor injuries thanks to their timely presence. More at eight. Thank you”

“What in the HELL did you think you were doing?!”

Clint winced and looked up at Natasha, “Helping?”

“Helping? Helping?! You could have been killed!”

Clint looked over at the rest of the team for help. “Isn’t that what we do all the time?”

Steve shook his head. “Clint, in those settings you have an entire team to watch your back. You didn’t even call us. You and Peter both could have been killed after that little stunt. You should both know better.”

“Jesus it was just two armed gun men. They weren’t even that hard to fight. I only got hurt because the gun exploded in the guy’s hand.”

“Only got hurt. You ONLY got hurt…. Clint, I’m gonna murder you.”

“But wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of lecturing me?”

Natasha glared at him. “You’re right. You’re grounded.”

“What.”

“G-r-o-u-n-d-e-d. Grounded. Do you want me to give you a definition?“

Clint tipped his head. “But…. I’m 17!”

Steve smiled. “That’s not 18. Technically you’re still our kid, which means we can ground you.”

Clint’s mouth dropped open, and he turned his head over to Tony.

“Don’t look at me kid, I’m all for it. In fact, I’m talking with May to make sure Peter is grounded too.”

“… This is some shit.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe kiddo.”

*******

Clint sat on the couch, arms crossed, pouting.

“Hey…. It could be worse?”

Clint looked over at Peter, “They put an ankle monitor on us Pete. An ankle monitor!!!”

Peter shrugged, “We could have to clean the toilets?”

Clint groaned and flopped over to the side.

#Clint Barton #Hawkeye #Peter Parker #Spiderman #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Natasha Romanova #Black Widow #Shuri #Ned #Aunt May #Prompt #Ao3 #Fan Fic #HawkyBarton

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mikegranich87 · 3 years

Text

Pixel 5a review: The 4a 5G wasn't broken, so Google didn't fix it

youtube

The Pixel 6 is just around the corner. But before Google brings it and its Tensor mobile chip to market, the company is updating its entry level offering with the $449 Pixel 5a. The whole point of the “a” family is to offer the basics at a reasonable price without sacrificing too much of the Pixel experience in the process. That means a relatively clean version of Android with a bunch of AI tricks and a heavy focus on photography.

But apparently Google feels like it more or less nailed that formula with the Pixel 4a 5G because the 5a is basically the same phone. (Note: The Pixel 5a is not a direct successor to the 4a, which was a much smaller device.) There are some differences — notably the addition of IP67 waterproofing — but most of the tweaks are extremely minor. Even the processor and RAM haven’t changed. So, if we said you could do better way back in October of 2020, what does that mean for the 5a in the fall of 2021?

Well, it makes the Pixel 5a about as unexciting as a phone can be, for one. But look, boring isn’t necessarily bad. Especially when you’re talking about the mid and lower tiers of the smartphone market. For one, keeping things staid allows Google to focus its efforts on battery life and performance optimization. And just like the last generation of Pixels, the 5a feels pretty responsive despite the aging Snapdragon 765G inside. That said, the 765G wasn’t exactly top of the line last year, and it’s starting to show its limits. While scrolling through the UI and doing simple things like reading email and sending text messages, the 5a is indistinguishable from any flagship device. It even handles most mobile games without a hiccup. I spent some time playing The Elder Scrolls: Blades and Wild Castle and the phone barely broke a sweat.

But, I did notice it stutter a few times while navigating YouTube, editing photos and jotting down my thoughts for this review in Evernote. The latter I could easily chalk up to Evernote’s questionable development over the last few years, but the pauses while switching to fullscreen in YouTube and swapping filters in Google Photos are a bit more concerning.

Terrence O'Brien / Engadget

The plus side of going with something a bit older and lower-powered (not to mention with an integrated 5G modem) is power efficiency. The 4a 5G was already something of a beast, lasting over 17 hours in our battery drain test before our reviews editor Cherlynn Low simply gave up and moved on with her life. That device had a 3,885mAh battery. The 5a has a 4,680mAh cell. It took 22 hours and 56 of playing a video on loop at 50-brightness before it finally powered down.

After 24 hour of heavy usage — playing games, repeatedly running 5G speed tests, installing apps, watching videos on YouTube and even letting it play sleep sounds overnight — the battery was still at 40 percent. It didn’t finally crap out until almost 2AM on day two. And if you turn on Extreme Battery Saver, things could get even more absurd. I’m fairly confident that under normal use you could get a full 48 hours out of the Pixel 5a before needing to find an outlet.

Battery life isn’t the only difference between the 5a and 4a 5G: The new phone is also IP67 rated for water and dust resistance. At a time when many smartphones have at least some form of water resistance the Pixel 4a 5G was sort of a disappointment. In fact, the lack of waterproofing was one of the big cons called out in our review. But the Pixel 5a should easily survive getting caught in the rain or if you drop it in a toilet. It can withstand being submerged in water up to one meter deep for 30 minutes, but I wouldn’t push this to its limits. Definitely don’t go swimming with it in your pocket.

Terrence O'Brien / Engadget

The last difference between the Pixel 5a and the 4a 5G is in the size and construction, but it’s subtle. The 5a has a metal unibody as opposed to a polycarbonate one. The texture is still matte and similar to the softtouch of the previous models, though, and the upgrade to Gorilla Glass 6 from Gorilla Glass 3 is notable, but you’ll never notice the difference in daily use. The 5a comes in one finish: Mostly Black. Some might find the look a little dull, and it’s certainly on the utilitarian side, but I quite liked the feel of the phone. The finish is a nice contrast to the seemingly endless sea of smooth glassy surfaces and the heft is just right, too.

The 5a is ever so slightly larger and heavier, but you’re talking about a few millimeters and grams. Even if you had a Pixel 4a 5G in one hand and a Pixel 5a in the other you’d be hard pressed to figure out which is which.

The change in size mostly comes down to the slightly larger screen. The OLED panel on the 5a is 6.34 inches, versus 6.2 inches on the 4a 5G. Otherwise, though, the screens are basically the same. The increased resolution of 2,400 x 1,080 makes up for the size difference so they both have a density of 413 ppi. Both also sport a contrast ratio of 100,000:1 and support HDR and are stuck at now outdated 60Hz. And both are just bright enough to use in direct sunlight, though high brightness mode is definitely a necessity if you’re watching a video outdoors.

Even the holepunch for the front-facing camera is in the same place. That said, I appreciated Google’s “for fun” wallpapers that camouflage the hole by incorporating it into the design. My favorite is the record player where the camera becomes the hole at the center of an LP.

That 8-megapixel front-facing camera, by the way, is one of the weak points of the 5a. It does the job in perfect lighting and for video calls. But details can be a bit soft, in low light it gets noisy and portrait mode is hit or miss. Overall, I found Google’s portrait feature to be a bit too aggressive even on the main camera. You can easily adjust the blur and depth after the fact, but the default settings could stand to be more subtle.

The selfie cam, though, is the same one found on the Pixel 4a 5G, so none of this is a surprise. In fact, all of the cameras are the same. The two sensors around the rear, however, are much better than the one on the front. There’s a 12.2-megapixel main shooter with optical image stabilization and a 16-megapixel ultra-wide-angle lens. They have a somewhat “moody” vibe when compared to shots from an iPhone or a Galaxy device, but they’re not obviously inferior. And even though images taken with the wide-angle lens can get a little fuzzy if you start zooming in on details, Google’s processing does an admirable job of minimizing barrel distortion. Google isn’t at the top of the smartphone camera heap anymore, but it’s not far off and photography is still an undeniable strong suit of the Pixel family.

Terrence O'Brien / Engadget

There’s nothing new to report, though. It’s the same set of excellent photography features that you got last year: Portrait lighting can help clean up and add some contrast to photos of people (but sadly not pets — the option only appears if a human face is detected). Night Sight turns on automatically in dim lighting and at times produces mind-blowing results. And the video stabilization modes are excellent. Cinematic Pan, which combines slow motion with super smooth movement, is especially fun.

Also, just like every other “a” model Pixel, this one has a headphone jack. All I can say is: That’s great, now please bring the headphone jack back to flagship phones. I know I’m not the only person clamoring for it. And it drives me nuts that the only way to get an old-school 3.5mm jack on my phone is to go down market.

Terrence O'Brien / Engadget

One last thing to mention: The actual full name of the phone is the Pixel 5a with 5G. So, guess what, it supports 5G connectivity. That’s not really surprising since the Snapdragon 765G has an integrated 5G modem. Unlike the Pixel 4a 5G, however, there is no mmWave variant of the 5a. And, although technically it’s capable of C-Band support, it’s currently not enabled and Google wouldn’t commit to adding support in the future. That’s not a huge deal at the moment since there are no active C-Band networks in the US yet. But it might irk some when AT&T and Verizon start flipping the switch, likely sometime later this year. That said, full C-Band rollout isn’t expected to happen until at least late 2023.

Those caveats out of the way, 5G still seems stuck in a state of arrested development. I tested the Pixel 5a using Google Fi, which essentially means I was on T-Mobile’s network and speeds were all over the place. In my home, it was often slower than Verizon’s LTE network, averaging around 35mbps down. (Note: Verizon is Engadget’s parent company… for now.) But two and half miles up the road at a local Subaru dealership I was routinely getting over 300mbps down, topping out at 370mbps.

Terrence O'Brien / Engadget

Of course, 5G and excellent cameras aren’t a rarity at this price any more. Mid-tier phones have come a long way over the last few years. The problem for Google is, it no longer clearly “owns the midrange.” Part of that is down to price. While the 5a is $50 cheaper than the 4a 5G, it’s not the obvious bargain that the 4a was at $350. If it was even just $50 cheaper still, the 5a would be a much easier sell at $399.

The Samsung A52 5G is slightly more expensive at $500 (though regularly on sale for less) and has a slower Snapdragon 750G SoC. But, its Super AMOLED screen clearly outclasses the Pixel’s and has a 120Hz refresh rate. Plus, its camera system is much sharper and feature-packed (but that doesn’t necessarily mean “better”). In addition to a primary camera and ultra-wide shooter, there’s a macro lens and a depth sensor that helps with portrait mode. While both the A52 and 5a ship with 128GB of storage, the Samsung has an advantage in that it has a microSD card slot.

Then there’s the OnePlus Nord N2 5G. It has a trio of cameras around the back, including a 50-megapixel primary sensor, an AMOLED screen with a 90Hz refresh rate, and up to 12GB of RAM. Then again, it has a MediaTek processor, which you rarely see in phones in the US and with good reason: They’re not exactly known for their high-end performance. But perhaps more importantly, you’re highly unlikely to be making a choice between the Nord N2 and the Pixel 5a since the former isn’t available in the US, and the later is only available in the US and Japan.

Of course, if you’re more of an iOS fan, the obvious comparison would seem to be the iPhone SE. It’s the same price as the Pixel 5a for a 128GB model, but it does feel quite a bit dated. It still uses the old iPhone 8 form factor with a Touch ID home button instead of Face ID, it's positively miniscule at 4.7 inches and doesn’t support 5G. Frankly, if you’re dead set on iOS, I might suggest saving your pennies and springing for the $699 iPhone 12 mini.

So, no, Google doesn’t “own the midrange” any more. The Pixel 5a is almost aggressively boring, but it’s not bad. If you want the Pixel experience and don’t want to break the bank, this is the way to go. But if you’re just looking for the best bang for your buck, the choice is far less clear.

from Mike Granich https://www.engadget.com/google-pixel-5-a-review-android-midrange-5g-smartphone-160051630.html?src=rss

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globalrecon · 6 years

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Sniper Dialogue: A Special Missions Sniper

This article is written by my friend Dave Nielsen. Dave served in the Ranger Regiment and then became a Special Missions Operator. He also served as a Sniper.

Foreword: In sniper training, the dialogue between sniper team members – the shooter and spotter – is formatted and purposeful. The spotter, usually the senior of the two, has held the job of shooter. He is the team leader, makes decisions, provides security for the shooter who is occupied, and maintains communication with the others. The others, the rest of the platoon may be on the next hilltop over; they could be hours away by helicopter. It doesn’t matter; the sniper team is alone for days at a time. Sniper Dialogue is the two-way exchange of vital information between teammates. It is the spotter walking the shooter onto a target maybe a mile away. It is the shooter reporting observations (for hours or days at a time) to the spotter, up to the others. Sometimes, though, it’s just banter between brothers. Necessary but not reported, the chat can get philosophical, bickering, tragi-comic, or just hilarious. Below is just one of many such dialogues.

Act I Scene I

Jessica Lynch mission, Iraq 2003 S1: So much for a good fight; what’d we each shoot, once? No other positions shot that I heard. S2: I drilled that guy in the window though. He was shooting and then disappeared right when I shot. You think I hit him? S1: Do you think you hit him? S2: My crosshairs were on his upper chest, I pulled clean on the trigger. It’s not even 200 meters. I wonder if I hit him, he disappeared right after the round cracked. My night vision to scope mount is boogered up again. I couldn’t miss at this range, right? S1: I think he’s dead. Oh my God, what is that smell? (sound of men throwing up at the base of building the snipers are on top of). Radio traffic: PC secure, moving to exfill LZ. All elements prepare to evacuate. Roger. BREAK BREAK BREAK. Gravesites located, all elements remain on target. Air elements push out to FARP. Translation: Assault force has Lynch, let’s leave. Everyone move back to the vehicle you came in on or helicopter landing zone briefed in the plan. WAIT A MINUTE- EVERYONE SHUT UP – we found the 9 Americans that went missing with Lynch and are Missing in Action. We’re going to dig them up. Helicopters move to refueling point and await call to pick us up. S2: Whoa, they found the bodies.

S1: Whoa. Radio traffic: (an hour into the recovery. Radio etiquette and protocol gone) Roger sir, we’re almost done. We need to rotate guys out sir, my guys are sick and most of our E-tools (collapsible military shovels) are broken. Have them drink water and take a break Sergeant Fader. Sir we’ve done that and BLAAAAAAEECH. We’ve done that sir HUUUUUPH. Spit. We’re all throwing up sir, can we rotate our guys out? I thought you said they were shallow graves Sergeant Fader. Roger sir. Then what’s the problem, can you finish up? We have to get out of here. Sir we.. FUCK sir we need more E-tools, they’re all broken. Everyone is throwing up. Understood Sergeant Fader. You have 9 bodies, correct? How many are bagged and ready for exfil? I’d say... I think... 7, wait.. 8 heads or heads with upper bodies. Their eyes are coming out sir... Sergeant Fader? We have 9 heads and torsos now and most of the parts. Just get us some fucking shovels. Please. Sir. Sergeant Fader how close to recovery complete, over... Sergeant Fader how close to recovery complete, over... S2: They’re crawling around on the ground throwing up. I want to go give them my water ok? Fader’s the man. BLAAAACH. Spit. S1: Go. Help em dig too, then come switch out with me. Fader is the fucking man. BLAAACH. Spit. Fader, are you done yet Fader. Fader, I need to know when you’ll be done. Did you get the shovels? How about when we’re fucking done Sir. How about we leave when we’re done. BLAAACH. Spit. No we didn’t get the shovels. The guys are digging with their hands.

We’re almost done. We’re getting everything we can but guts are spilling out. Limbs fall off when we try to pull them out of the graves. Scene 2 S1 is retired, working in the civilian world and speaking with a friend. S2 still active duty. A decade of war and hundreds of missions later, the sniper dialogue has become the unconscious: the repeating dream. It’s the voice in the head; the sniper dialogue takes its directors chair deep in the soul. CIVILIAN FRIEND: Jessica Lynch; was that even a thing? Did it even happen? I heard it was nothing but a media event. None of our force were killed on that mission right? S1: None of us were killed on the mission. FRIEND: Wow. What a cover-up. The media says they feel duped, that it wasn’t a real rescue mission. S1: Wow. FRIEND: Wow what? S1: Nothing. It’s not a cover-up; forget it. The more I try to explain this stuff the worse it gets. But I have to try, or this will drive me insane. Do you remember when Greg was killed in our senior year of high school? FRIEND: Of course bro. What’s that got to do with Jessica Lynch? S1: Nothing. And everything. Remember Greg’s parents for the week it took to find his body? FRIEND: Oh God. They were hysterical. Inconsolable. S1: Remember his parents after they found him and buried him? FRIEND: Sad but at peace. Yeah, what a difference – all the difference in the world. But Jessica Lynch lived, right? What am I missing? S1: The 9 dead soldiers we brought home. Their missing bodies. We recovered them. FRIEND: WHAT?! S1: The 9 dead soldiers we brought..

FRIEND: I heard you, but I didn’t hear about this. All the media talked about was how the military made it out to be a heroic rescue mission, but that it was overhyped. How did you recover the bodies?! How long had they been dead? Who were they? Why don’t people know about this?? S1: Let me start from the end. This dude named Fader was in charge of the Ranger platoon my sniper team was supporting. We were in a HUM-V driving back from the mission; broad daylight, hot desert sun and we’re right behind the 5 ton flatbed truck carrying the 9 bodies in body bags. They weren’t shaped like bodies anymore man; each bag looked more like a hockey bag stuffed with equipment. It didn’t make sense to the human eye... <S1 spits> Then the bags started leaking. Sloshing around. The smell.. oh man the smell. Guys were throwing up, dry heaving while we drove, until we crashed. The driver fell asleep, we’d been up for 3 days and nights. What a mess. FRIEND: Dude.. wait.. wow. Body bags sloshing around looking like gym bags. How long were they dead? S1: about 10 days buried in shallow graves. In April, in the desert. It’s well over 110 degrees in April. FRIEND: How did you dig up the bodies? S1: We used shovels and our hands to dig them up. FRIEND: How many people have you told? S1: Just you. FRIEND: Why me? S1: You’re the first one to ask.

#Snipers #Rangers #Army Rangers #Special Missions #SMU #Operator #Counter Terrorism #Jessica Lynch #Hostage Rescue #Dialogue #Dave Nielsen

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