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oceanmastertrash · 5 years

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the tides know our names- 16/?

Summary: After losing the throne to his brother Orm is working with Arthur to try to help Atlantis move forward. A few months after this Elara, part of an ancient order of prescient Atlanteans known as Tidewatchers, has a vision of Orm’s death. Predicting and reading the future through the tides of fate has never been easy but Elara is in for the challenge of a lifetime working with her former king to save his life.

Part: 16/?

Word Count: 5,182

Warnings: none.

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Author’s Note: Alright this is the last chapter for today, this one is brand new! enjoy the binge my lovelies!

“Madren messaged you,” Orm clarified, equal parts apprehensive and intrigued.

“Yep,” Elara said. “And she wants to meet you.”

Orm stared back at Elara, completely unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

According to Elara, Madren was currently running the Tidewatcher sanctuary in Guatemala. Orm would have preferred to just swim there but, also according to Elara, there were a couple obstacles to that plan. First and foremost the sanctuary was on the opposite coast of Central America than their current location in Belize. Secondly, given what Henrik had told them about the tracking method Black Manta and Dr. Shin were employing, it was in their best interest to stay on land for the time being.

Orm was apprehensive about leaving the shore entirely and fully immersing into life on the surface. The reality of tackling land travel was also something he had no experience with. Elara had some knowledge but she still had to use an internet cafe to nail down the details of their travel and acquired a cheap prepaid phone to better book their surface transportation.

She also changed out of her bloody garments so as to be less conspicuous. It did Orm better than he would like to admit to see her in her fresh clothes. Elara was not the sort to look fragile, wounded though she was, but it comforted him to see her look put back together in a sense. For her part, Elara took comfort in it, she still ached and smarted if she moved the wrong way but she felt less exposed without a literal gaping hole in her shirt.

Elara contemplated renting a car for their travels, as she did have some limited driving lessons but ultimately decided, given some of the weaving of the path, they’d be better off taking public transportation. It would be a long day and a meandering journey. Elara was certain that Orm would suffer quite a bit of frustration and annoyance from the surface dwellers but there was no way to avoid that at this point.

By now the sun was setting and they decided they would begin their journey in the morning. Elara found a motel for them. It was small and probably nowhere near the standards Orm was used to but it had two beds and he at least recognized their need for rest. Elara was exhausted and while her Atlantean healing and the meds from the clinic were helping with the pain of her injuries, she knew she needed some downtime to try to recuperate.

They stayed up a little while longer as Elara did her best to explain surface concepts like the bus system they’d be employing to get to Madren and the credit card she used for most of their purchases as well as her scant knowledge of the currencies she had. Orm thought it all more complicated than it should be but at her argument, conceded that Atlantis and all it’s kingdoms and politics would no doubt befuddle outsiders as well.

After their strenuous day, Elara fell asleep fairly quickly. Orm didn’t like the idea of them both sleeping at the same time surrounded by surface dwellers on all sides but Elara had insisted that the tides would wake her if anyone were to try anything and they should both rest while they can. Orm struggled with this idea. Letting his guard down was not anything that came easy to him, especially not considering they’d already been attacked that day by a surface dweller.

Ultimately though, fatigue won out and Orm fell asleep listening to the sound of Elara breathing. It wasn’t the most restful sleep by far but it was more than he’d expected. It was not particularly lengthy either, because before too long, they were woken by an annoying melody from the cell phone Elara had purchased. It was an alarm she’d set to ensure they would get up early enough to catch the bus. While such an alarm was useful, it was very irritating and Orm loathed it on principle.

They grabbed something to eat at a nearby cafe and then waited at the bus station. Elara had explained that the bus system they were using had many other stops on the way until it eventually stopped closer to the center of Guatemala where they would then catch a smaller bus for a short stint to the town closest to the Tidewatcher sanctuary. There weren’t as many people getting on the bus this early but Elara knew they would have a lot of contact with a lot of people by the time the day was over.

Elara had booked them on one of more luxury liners instead of what the locals referred to as ‘chicken busses’ which ran more locally and, well, had more livestock on board. Elara anticipated that they’d need to use them at some point but thought it best if they put it off for now; one thing at a time and all that.

The wait was short as those around them chatted in languages Orm didn’t understand. It was hard not to feel so very far from home in this moment. Perhaps Elara sensed this from the tides but she subtly shifted so her uninjured arm was pressed against his in a silent show of support. It was a small thing but it helped. If this had been a couple weeks ago he might have been perturbed by how well she could read him but then he supposed she wouldn’t be a very good tidewatcher if she wasn’t good at picking up things like that. She wouldn’t be able to keep them safe if she couldn’t sense something like a change in mood, that could mean everything in a surprise attack. And he had to note she’d never used this to manipulate him or use him, only to help them. He admired that about her.

He was glad to let Elara take charge in the small things like where they sat. If nothing else, he was glad that he didn’t have to reveal further how little he knew of these things though he suspected she knew anyway. They sat towards the back and not very close to any other passengers so they could talk a little freer as long as they spoke quietly. She sat with her bad side to the window. It was going to hurt all day anyway but at least this way she wouldn’t have to worry about him accidentally elbowing her tender side or scraping her arm. She was careful how she held her arm so as not to rub it the wrong way but the bandaging and the jacket she wore helped insulate it more against aggravation.

Once the bus was on its way they didn’t talk at first. While Orm acclimated to the feel of things on the road and amongst surface dwellers like this, Elara took the opportunity to get familiar with the flows of the tides for the bus and their route. As the whole bus had a hectic and chaotic atmosphere to it, she thought it best to get a feel for what patterns were normal for it so she could better spot what was irregular.

After some time had passed and nothing went wrong and no one bothered them, she could feel some of the edge had dissipated off of Orm. She figured now was a good time to try conversing with him to distract him. She’d also strategically let him take the aisle seat because she figured he’d feel more able to protect them that way even if she did not feel such actions would be necessary.

“So,” she began, turning to him, “what do you know about Madren?”

Orm resisted the urge to smirk, of course she would know he was curious about the old tidewatcher even if he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t proud of it but the idea of meeting Madren intimidated him slightly. While he’d received reports from her during his reign, he’d never met her though he’d certainly heard stories from Vulko and the other Tidewatcher elders over the years. Combine that with all he’d heard from Elara since they’d come to the surface and Madren seemed a larger than life figure to Orm and one that left a profound impression. She was regarded by many as being exceedingly eccentric which Orm had always attributed to the fact that she’d spent several decades on the surface. She wasn’t the only Tidewatcher or Atlantean to maintain an outpost up above but she’d been topside longer than any other Atlantean he’d ever heard of.

She’d acclimated to her environment in unusual ways. When he’d been king, the tidewatcher council would regularly update him on reports from Madren. She could not only sense shifts of surface dweller politics through the tides but also witness it firsthand. She was an invaluable resource but a bit of a wildcard. He’d been content enough to let her stay up here as her intelligence was always timely. He could sense at times she disapproved of his war on the surface but she never interfered which suited him just fine. The same relations between Madren and the king of Atlantis had not always been the case when his father had been on the throne. It was not a subject Orvax had been inclined to speak of which had only served to make it a subject of curiosity for Orm.

“What can you tell me about Madren and my father?” he asked calmly.

Elara raised her eyebrows. That was not the question she had been expecting. “Well you clearly know something or else you wouldn’t ask. What have you heard?”

“Oh just the standard line Orvax circulated to the courts- that he banished her to the surface for her insubordination.” Orm answered with a wry grin, “and enough from Vulko to know that no one actually banished Madren.”

Elara shared a smug grin, “That he most certainly didn’t. Anyone who’s actually met Madren would know that she is not a woman to let anything but the tides tell her what to do. And even then she’ll argue and analyze it five ways to Sunday before consenting.”

“So what really happened?”

“I suppose the diplomatic answer would be that she resented the idea of being under his thumb and subject to his tempers and scrutiny,” Elara said after consideration.

“And the non-diplomatic answer?” he pressed.

“She was tired of his bullshit,” she said straight-face.

“Sounds like she taught you well on that count,” he replied slyly.

“That she did,” Elara agreed. “But the way she tells it, Orvax was a thousand times worse than you ever were. Madren was the best tidewatcher on the council and they both knew it. Madren wasn’t afraid to call him out on his ill-conceived schemes or throw the warnings of the tides in his face if things didn’t work out for Orvax. I don’t think he would have had problems if she was skilled and humble but she was abrasive and loud about it. He knew he couldn’t properly cut off contact with her because what results he saw and liked from the tides mostly came from her leads but he couldn’t abide her publicly contradicting and undermining him.”

“No,” Orm said quietly, “he certainly couldn’t.”

Elara could sense a bitterness and a history to that statement but also that it wasn’t something he was interested in exploring in depth at the moment so she moved on as nonchalantly as she could. “Madren’s no idiot and knew something had to give. Since the tides gave her no indication that Orvax was going to change and she knew she absolutely wasn’t going to, she decided she’d relocate as a sort of truce. Orvax wasn’t wild about her training others on the surface but ultimately agreed that it was preferable to her constantly embarrassing him down below.”

Orm found himself smiling. He enjoyed the way Elara told stories. He found himself content to simply watch how her eyebrows would quirk when she found something amusing and the way she’d gesture with her hands to make a point. She was certainly more fascinating to watch than whatever was out the window at any rate.

“Everything that was said after she was gone was pure fiction made up to make Orvax sound better once Madren wasn’t in Atlantis to dispute him. All of us tidewatchers knew the truth but it didn’t really matter. Madren said the point was that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore so she was the real winner.” Elara gave an emphatic jab of her finger.

“What about after Orvax died? Why didn’t she come back then?” At this point Orm was just enjoying hearing her talk about it but he was still curious as to Madren’s continued presence on the surface.

A small part of him wondered if Madren stayed away because she didn’t think Orm had been any better of a king than Orvax had. He couldn’t be sure though, it wasn’t as if he and Madren had ever butted heads. It could be different with Tidewatchers, but two people were usually required to have met before having a feud. Orm then felt a twang of unease at the idea that Madren had stayed away because she’d seen his future sins and decided he was just as bad as his father. It wasn’t entirely unwarranted but it also wasn’t an idea he liked to entertain.

Elara sensed a pang of anxiety from Orm but rather than address it she simply continued on. “She was formally invited back for the sake of appearances but she declined. I asked her about it a few years ago and she said that as much as she loved Atlantis, she’d come to love the surface too and she wanted to instill some of that love into the next generation of Tidewatchers. She saw enough ill will between land and sea in the tides but wanted to do what she could to abate it, to remind her fellow Atlanteans that there was much to love and protect up above. She taught me well in that regard too.”

Elara nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking down at their feet. Orm was hardly about to declare war against the surface again but she knew that her affection for this world above was still an aberration among her people. While she’d argued with Orm about attacking the surface while they were still in Atlantis, she never would have dared to reveal her fondness for it back then. If she had, he would have just rolled his eyes and condescended.

He did none of those things now. In the brief glance she allowed herself to gauge his reaction, she could have sworn he smiled ruefully.

“Indeed she did,” he finally said quietly. Try as she might, she could sense no derision from the former king and that filled her with a quiet sort of gratitude.

It made sense to Orm. Elara had never shown the slightest hesitancy about coming to the surface. To being the one tasked with keeping him safe, perhaps, but she’d held no reservations for the surface. As comfortable as she was down below, there was an ease to her manner up here that some small part of him envied. He didn’t loathe it as he once had but now he was willing to admit that a lot of his discomfort stemmed from not understanding. He still hated their waste and how the people here took so much for granted but he could see hints of joy too. Though he would at least admit to himself that he might not have seen any without Elara’s influence.

A companionable silence fell between them for a time and Orm found himself thinking about his father and Madren. He might have once considered their relationship a mirror of his with Elara. Both Elara and Madren being the stubborn and defiant Tidewatcher while he and Orvax stood opposite as the haughty and proud king. How things had changed. It surprised him to realize that now he felt more kinship with Elara than he did with his father.

His father might have thought he was doing what was right to make Orm the best ruler he could but that didn’t change the fact that Orvax was a cold and distant father. When he did express emotions for Orm it was more anger and frustration with occasional bursts of small pride. More proud of how he had molded Orm than of anything Orm had done for himself. And Orm had spent so long telling himself that it was alright. That Orvax knew what was best but a quiet doubt had always lingered after Orvax had ordered Atlanna’s death. Justify it as Orvax had, Orm had resented his father for robbing him of the one person whom he had known to actually love him. Altanna may have loved Arthur and missed her life on the surface but she had loved Orm fiercely and protectively. Doing her best to spare him the worst of Orvax’s wrath and raise Orm to be considerate and clever and thoughtful.

That was why Orm had never sent his commandos after Tom or Arthur before Arthur came to Atlantis. The rumors of Atlanna’s bastard had certainly plagued his rule as had the knowledge that Atllanna’s human family was what had led to her death and yet Orm had left them alone. He’d certainly been advised to silence the rumors and have the Currys killed but Orm had resisted. It was the only way he could think of to honor Atlanna’s memory. As much as he hated them for essentially taking his mother from him, he knew that Atlanna had loved Arthur and Tom so he’d left them alone.

It was only when Arthur had come to Atlantis himself and challenged Orm’s right to rule that Orm could resist no longer. He was so close to achieving everything he’d been fighting so long for and he hadn’t been able to stand by and let Arthur challenge him. Add Mera’s betrayal and Orm was stung and retaliated in kind. Orm wasn’t proud of it now, it was the actions of a petty man who was hurt and he knew now he would have regretted it if his commandos had succeeded in killing Arthur and Mera.

As ashamed as Orm felt for some of his actions, Orm realized that if he hadn’t done what he had, he would not be where he was right now. The subject of a future assassination attempt and on the surface he’d spent so long despising perhaps- but he was also sitting next to a befuddling, and bitingly clever Tidewatcher who had seen his worst mistakes and still believed in him and that wasn’t something Orm liked the idea of losing. Realizing this affected him in the most peculiar way. As soon as he thought it, he felt a rush run through him and he couldn’t help the slightest tremor that hit him.

Elara sensed it, of course she did, though he couldn’t be entirely sure if she felt it physically or through the tides. In any case, she had grown so accustomed to him that, minute as it was, she felt it and she tore her gaze from the window to meet his eyes.

Concern played across her wonderfully expressive face and he could practically feel her scanning the tides for the source of the tremor.

“You alright?” She asked quietly, unconsciously leaning closer.

He had the absurd desire to lean in as well, just to be even closer to this startlingly lovely woman, but he kept himself in check, trying to school his features in the wake of such an idea.

“I’m fine,” he answered back just as softly. Not because he was worried about any of the other passengers hearing them but because he had the foolish notion that his realization was like a small, easily frightened animal- likely to flee at any loud sound or sudden motion. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, as gently but reserved as he could manage, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Elara could sense something had changed in Orm but, as fast as her heart was beating at their closeness and distracted as her thoughts were, she just couldn’t put her finger on what that change was.

“Thank me?”

“I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for coming up here with me.” He said, even though that barely scratched the surface of what he was grateful for in this current moment.

He was right. He hadn’t thanked her but, if Elara was being honest, she hadn’t expected him to. She wasn’t sure if that was selling the prince short or not but when all of this started he wasn’t feeling any sense of appreciation at his glorified exile. His thanks were hardly some grand glorious gesture, but given where Orm had started, it meant something to Elara. He might have once taken something like this for granted or assumed that it was her duty and simply expected of her. She had begun this journey feeling like the tides were calling her to do this, so she may have once said that thanks weren’t necessary but many things had changed between them since they had left Atlantis.

“You’re welcome,” was all she said and before she could think better of it, she took his hand.

Orm was getting obnoxiously fond of holding her hand. He remembered seeing Elara and Calysa coming to meet them, holding each other’s arms and being very affectionate and he’d certainly seen such friendly physical exchanges among his citizens when visiting the regions but that type of physical familiarity was never something he’d had access to after Atlanna died.

Given all of her many gifts and deductions, Orm wasn’t sure if Elara knew that or not. Didn’t know if this was just her general way with people she was familiar with or if she was actively trying to compensate for his touch-starved youth. And while he wanted to believe he was special, he wasn’t sure how much it mattered in this exact moment. She was holding his hand because she wanted to, because he’d reached out to her and it felt nice.

They didn’t speak again for awhile and eventually she let his hand go with a tight squeeze before getting into her pack for snack bars. The rest of the day was more of the same. There were a few bathroom stops and a constant shuffle of passengers boarding and departing. Sometimes there would be other passengers all around them and paranoid as Orm was he didn’t feel like chatting much, just in case. Elara mostly respected this but sometimes engaged him in small talk about the food they ate or the areas they passed through. He didn’t feel like she was trying to placate him or appease him, but more felt like she was chatting for her own peace of mind and he did his best to help but obviously had little experience in the subject matter.

It was a baffling day but not as frustrating as it could have been if Orm had been left to navigate it alone. Confident and stubborn as he might have been, he had nothing on Elara’s unflappable calm. No matter how loud the bus got or unintelligible the bus driver, she kept her cool and guided them through. Hours passed in this almost mindless chatter. Elara encouraged him to try to get some more sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. He may not actively dislike and distrust everyone on this bus as he once had, but it was still too foreign an environment for him to get easy.

Elara, to her credit, tried to stay awake out of solidarity but she just didn’t have the same vigor she usually did. Her injury was healing well. She’d made a point to check on it before they left this morning and once at one of the bathroom stops. It would heal within a few days but it still took a lot of energy in the meantime. As there wasn’t anything pressing to distract her or keep her alert, she kept nodding off, lulled by the easy cadence of their fellow passengers and the feel of the bus rolling along down the highway.

Once she woke up abruptly when a bump in the road caused her forehead to collide with the window. Orm, who had been occupying himself counting and memorizing the other people on the bus, started at Elara’s gasp when she was woken. His warrior instincts immediately put him on edge and on the lookout for the cause. She immediately inspected the point of contact with one hand while holding the other out to him as if to give him the all clear.

“It’s fine, just a bump,” she said and instinctively tilted her head to show that no serious harm had been done.

He appeared to study it for a minute as if to make sure she wasn’t hiding any lacerations. Finally, he nodded as if agreeing with her assessment but then frowned minutely, saying almost under his breath, “this is hardly the smoothest form of transportation. It’s awfully clumsy.”

“Well it beats trekking through the jungle for days on our own.” Elara replied with her usual measure of snark and common sense as well as a signature smirk, “I know that we could handle ourselves but that would have been miserable. Just think of the mosquitoes.”

Not having much experience with the flying pests and still thinking of the realization he’d come to earlier that day, Orm wasn’t sure spending days alone with her in the jungle would be particularly miserable after all. However, he also knew she had a point and with mostly unknown adversaries out there, that would not be the wisest course of action.

“Perhaps,” was all he said in reply. He could accept these things in the name of practicality all day long, and he had, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel comfortable up here.

While passengers had left and boarded their bus for hours and no one had attacked them or even properly interacted with him or Elara besides the bus driver, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and unease. Like they were too exposed. And while Elara was the one thing that was keeping him from complete uneasiness or from complaining about this clumsy earth vehicle spewing noxious fumes, it didn’t mean that he was able to feel comfortable up here.

Even Elara’s ability to balance and calm him instinctively was foreign to him. While Elara was the most familiar thing to him for hundreds of miles, he hadn’t been aware of how much he’d come to count on and trust her until surrounded by others. He still didn’t know what to make of how he was coming to regard her- it was still so strange and new to him.

Elara, of course, being as experienced as she was in interpersonal relationships and friendships might know better how to word or contextualize how he was feeling but he didn’t even know how he could put it into words to ask. And, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if she felt any of these confusing sensations that he did. What if she simply had grown to regard him as a friend? While that wouldn’t be the worst fate he could suffer at her hands, he could feel something unlike friendship growing in him. He hadn’t had much experience with friendship to be sure but this was just unlike anything he’d ever known. Worse still, what if she still saw all this as duty? What if she was simply doing all this to fulfill the call of the tides?

She had been the one to kiss him that drunken night but she’d also been the one to leave and shut herself off from him after that. He thought it might have been repulsion at his admission but maybe it was her own way of prioritizing duty? Her way of saying that fun or feelings would always come last. He didn’t know where that left him if that was true. So while Orm had no activity to occupy him physically on their long bus ride, he certainly had much to think of.

Elara, for her part, slept for most of it. When she woke up at the stop where they’d be changing busses she was surprised to find that she had not fallen asleep against the window but with her head leaning on Orm. He was just the right height for her head to rest against his broad shoulder comfortably. As the bus fully stopped and other passengers started getting up, she almost sheepishly lifted her head off of his shoulder. She didn’t know why it struck her so odd, maybe in their tight quarters, Orm didn’t notice? Highly unlikely, but perhaps he was still offended at the crudeness of their transport and bore it to prevent her from further injury? It wasn’t the most plausible explanation but it was all Elara could figure as they gathered their things and disembarked the bus for the final time.

Elara gingerly stretched out. If she felt cramped after hours of being in those tight seats, she couldn’t imagine how Orm felt with his much longer frame. If they’d been alone or back at the cabin she’d expect him to work through some of those fighting forms he’d been so fond of but he instead he opted for more subtle stretches. After they’d both taken advantage of a bathroom and regained feeling in their limbs, she could feel him scanning the area. He hadn't been fond of the bus but after eight something hours it was at least more familiar than this little town in the middle of Guatemala.

Elara could understand that and did her best to feel through the tides for any threat, only to be surprised at a familiar thread.

“When is our next bus set to arrive?” Orm asked, looking around dubiously.

“Actually,” Elara said, feeling more confidence in her reading, taking gradual steps forward as she mentally tugged on the tide, “we aren’t taking a bus to the sanctuary.”

“We aren’t?” he asked, confusion and alarm coming off of him.

“No,” she replied as she reached the other end of the pull and pointed to the off-roads Jeep at the far end of the street.

An older woman with long gray hair pulled back under a sun hat sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes were fixed squarely on the two of them with an almost wicked smile on her face, clear to see even from where they stood.

“Is that...” Orm began but of course it was. Who else could have seen when and where their bus would stop?

“Yep,” Elara answered with admiration and fondness in her voice, “that’s Madren.”

#king orm #king orm x oc #orm marius x oc #orm marius #orm x oc #the tides know our names #tidewatcher fic #oceanmastertrash

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especially-heinous-ada · 6 years

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Mankiller, Pt. 1

Hello, Tumblr world! It is with great pleasure that I finally unveil the first chapter of my brand spanking new Hannibal Au! Focused on Dr. Chilton and a mysterious female OC. I’m so excited to share my idea with you all, and I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the story begins...

As with all my other posts, please feel free to holler at me in the comments. I read them all, and always appreciate them! If you’re shy (I totally get it!) but still want to holler at me, hit up my asks as an anon. I love hearing your thoughts. Thank you to everyone for supporting my writing! Let me know if you enjoyed the first chapter and would like to read more.

Click, clack. Click, clack.

The hallway was as dark and quiet as it was empty. It had an almost eerie quality to it.

Drama queens. Always have to create ‘ambience.’ She scoffed as she drew ever-nearer to her destination.

Click, clack. Click, Clack. Her steps echoed through the halls as her stilettos struck the cold, stone tile. Her flowing dress billowed behind her as she moved swiftly, like a woman on a mission.

She reached the end of the hallway, where she pushed open a set of black double doors. They groaned loudly, announcing her arrival to the room’s occupants. At a massive, wooden table sat three men in suits.

“Hmph.” She pulled out a chair and slunk into it gracefully, alone at the far end of the table.

“Wouldn’t you rather come closer?” Called one of the men from across the table. “You look awfully lonely down there, Mankiller.” She rolled her eyes.

“I actually prefer being alone, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Frigid bitch.” He called back. The man seated in the center waved him down. His face was familiar. He was the one always present whenever she received an assignment. They called him Jay.

“We’ve done this song and dance plenty of times before, so I won’t bother with the pandering formalities. The government has utilized your…services…many times over the years. I understand, now, that you are looking to get out of the business? Slip into the darkness and not be bothered?”

She sighed loudly, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.

“That is what I told your boss, yes. So why exactly am I here?”

“Same reason as always. There’s a threat, and we need it eliminated.”

“Boring. And you can’t just order your lackeys to do it, becaaaause….?”

“He’s murdered everyone who’s tried. Anyone who comes close to discovering his identity mysteriously disappears, only to reappear with pieces missing. So they’re bringing in the big guns for one last mission.”

She sat up straight in her chair, uncrossing her legs. He’d piqued her interest—it was obvious by her reaction. Now that he had her attention, he continued.

“These pieces… they’re internal organs, mostly. Not just a foot, or an arm—and not just a simple disemboweling where he takes everything out. No. He’s taking the time and effort to cut them open and remove certain, particular pieces.”

“You’re thinking he’s a cannibal.”

“Precisely. He’s operating out of a very specific region. He never goes too far, so he must be rooted in the community somewhere. There’s an FBI investigator on the case, but they can’t seem to crack it.”

“Oh, no. How shocking!” She snarked. Jay ignored her, used to the attitude by now.

“They’ve got a special detective working with them—some weirdo named Will Graham. He’s given some good insight, but we don’t have any solid leads, so they’re just ideas floating around in space.” He slid a file across the table.

“Every lead turns out to be a dead end, so they have no idea of his true identity. That’s where the legendary Mankiller comes in.”

“You want me to figure out who he is, then eliminate him.”

“Precisely.” She raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at the file, not bothering to open it.

“This freak got a name?”

“They’re calling him the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“A bit melodramatic.”

“You haven’t seen the crime scene photos. He’s causing mass hysteria.”

She scoffed.

“What do you say, Mankiller? One last mission?”

“If I do this, will you finally leave me alone? I’m sick of playing cleanup crew after the government’s sloppy work.” She said caustically, folding her arms as she met his gaze.

“If you do this, you can have anything you want. Just name it.”

Some goddamn peace and quiet would be nice. She thought before standing.

“Fine. I’ll do it. You owe me big for this one. I expect a big, fat retirement bonus at the end of this.” She said, grabbing the file off the table before turning and sweeping out of the room.

Click, clack. Click, clack. She set off down the cold hallway once again, opening up the file to peruse its contents, looking for a starting point.

Where to begin? She thought, quickly thumbing through pages of documents. She stopped when she saw a picture stapled to the top of what appeared to be a psychiatric report.

“The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. That’s a mouthful.” She let out a single chuckle. The document purported to be an analyzation of the Chesapeake Ripper’s psychological condition. Uninterested in the pretentious psychobabble splayed across the pages, she continued to flip through to find the author.

“Dr. Frederick Chilton. Never heard of him…Why don’t I start by paying the good doctor a visit?” She suspected he knew more than he was letting on in his rather brief report. Snapping the file shut, she strode down the hall. As annoying as it was to deal with the government’s favorite meatheads, she had to admit: the Mankiller always felt best when on an assignment. The more dangerous, the better. She smiled, feeling the rush of the hunt return once more. It’d been almost a year since she’d taken an assignment and she’d nearly forgotten the thrill of it all.

“Look out, Ripper. Here I come.”

************************

-The Next Day- The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane

As she stepped into the hospital, the Mankiller felt uneasy. She was never a fan of hospitals, or psychiatric wards. She suspected that if they could, Jay’s higher-ups might try to throw her in a place like this. Not that they could, of course. They needed her too much. Not to mention the fact that when they first started begging her to take assignments, she’d cleverly insisted they grant her immunity for all crimes—future, present and past. She smiled.

Sometimes, I even impress myself.

As she strode up to the front desk, she found two men conversing behind it. One wore a plan white dress shirt, no tie. He had plain, black hair buzzed short, and wore an unremarkable pair of plastic, black-rimmed glasses. A subordinate.

The other man was much more ostentatious, both in dress and manner. He wore an impressively stylish double-breasted suit, which she surmised must have cost a rather pretty penny. His hair was also dark, but longer, and gelled into a fashionable style. He wore a full beard, but it was meticulously groomed. It was obvious he cared very much about appearances.

Of the two, she deduced it would be most beneficial to approach the more flamboyant man. It was clear to her that he must be some sort of supervisor. That, combined with his overt attempts to appear attractive and successful made him a much easier target to manipulate, when compared to his subordinate, who’d be much too concerned about following rules or losing his minimum wage job.

“Hello.” She greeted pleasantly. The two kept talking, and she sighed. It looked like she was going to have to bring out the big guns. She leaned over the top of the desk, making her cleavage prominently visible, then cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, would one of you handsome men be able to help me?” She smiled. At that, the men turned to face her, finally breaking from their conversation. They seemed irritated at first, but quickly changed their tune after they had a moment to observe her.

“Certainly, I can help you with whatever you need; I am General Administrator of this facility.” The well-dressed man boasted, as predicted. “What can I do for you?”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Administrator.” The Mankiller smiled. “You see, I’m looking for someone here.”

“A doctor, or a patient?” The man asked curiously.

“Doctor.”

“Which doctor? Do you have an appointment?” The assistant butted in. The Administrator waved him down with an annoyed look.

“I’m looking for a Dr. Chilton?” The Administrator smiled spryly.

“Well, you’ve found him.” He replied, motioning to himself. “What did you need?”

“Actually, I’d really just like to speak to you, if that’s alright? Um, privately?” She was really laying it on thick now; giving the sexy voice, shooting him the steamy bedroom eyes, looking him up and down, the works. She was only partially acting; he was actually quite attractive, especially for a man in this line of work. She’d been expecting a grey-haired old fogey.

His eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow rocketed upward to his forehead. He stuttered for a moment before managing a coherent response.

“Well, I don’t have any appointments scheduled until this afternoon… I suppose that would be alright. Follow me.”

Worked like a charm. Sure, seducing men with some cleavage and eye batting was cliché, but it was that way for a reason—it worked. Every. Damn. Time. Dr. Chilton should be thankful that he’s not my target, or he’d have just signed his own death warrant...with his penis.

She found the thought amusing and stifled a chuckle as Dr. Chilton stopped in front of a black wooden door with gold accents. He reached in his pocket to pull out his key and unlocked it, swinging it open and motioning for her to go inside. She thanked him and stepped in in front of him. He followed, carefully closing the door behind them.

“Feel free to have a seat wherever you’d—oh.” He’d turned to find her sitting, with her legs crossed, on top of his desk.

“Sorry, is this inappropriate?” She smiled salaciously.

“Perhaps. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, if you won’t.” He winked.

I’ve got him now. She scooted back on his desk, dangling her legs off the side, and threw her head back, letting him look her over without being watched.

“What exactly are you here for?” Dr. Chilton asked, approaching the mysterious woman. She looked so sensual sitting there on top of his desk; her mere act of existing was turning him on. Why was she here? How did she know him? Was she a fan? Did he even have fans? If he did, he hoped they all looked like this.

Her long, tanned legs dangled off the edge of his desk, crossed delicately. On her feet were a pair of black stilettos whose heels looked positively deadly. Her dress was rather short and exposed the majority of her perfect legs. If it rode up any further, not much would be left to the imagination. The flowy fabric clung to all the right places, accentuating her ample curves. It took all the strength he had within him simply to prevent himself from displaying his arousal as she turned her gaze upon him.

“I’m here because I need you.” She responded, sounding purposely suggestive.

“Need me for what?” Chilton pressed, swallowing hard.

“I think you can figure that out.” She winked.

“…But you didn’t even know what I looked like when you showed up.” He said, frowning. Damn, he’s got me there.

“I…need some information.”

“About?”

“The Chesapeake Ripper.” She admitted, deciding to be direct. He scoffed.

“After the last person came knocking about the Ripper, I elect to pretend he doesn’t exist with new callers.” Maybe he wasn’t as much of a pushover as she’d originally thought. This might require her to fight dirty.

“Fair enough. If you don’t want to talk, well…I came here to pick your brain, but once I got a look at the rest of you…I knew I wanted to play with more than just your mind.” She stood, drawing closer to him. As she grew nearer, Chilton found himself holding his breath. It was like seeing a majestic, mythical creature up close.

She grabbed him by his suit jacket and backed up, returning to the desk and bringing him with her. She sat down on the edge of the desk once more, legs spread, pulling his full body against her. One hand left his jacket and pulled him in by his tie. She pressed her lips against his.

Oh, my god. Am I dreaming? Chilton wondered to himself. Indeed, he’d had dreams like this before, but this was much too real. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume, like cotton candy. He could feel the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her body pressed against him. He kissed back fervently. If this was a dream, he hoped he’d never wake up.

Oh, my god. She thought as Chilton began to kiss her back. He’s actually a really good kisser. She hadn’t counted on that. She felt him raise his hand, intertwining his fingers with her hair.

Holy shit. This is actually really hot…but I’m on a mission, she reasoned.

She felt herself moan into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Well, I suppose there’s no harm in having a little fun?

She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against him, arousing a small groan from him. He leaned forward into her, pushing her back onto the desk. She threw caution to the wind and let her hands roam over his body, exploring him, when suddenly his intercom buzzed.

She came back to her senses, pulling away from his kisses. She glanced up from his lips to his eyes. They were a beautiful green-tinted hazel, and she found herself wishing she hadn’t noticed as she averted her gaze.

“As fun as this has been, I have to go. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” She said, sliding off the desk from underneath him, thoroughly embarrassed at her lapse in focus. She made toward the door, wanting to escape as quickly as possible.

“Wait!” Chilton called after her, wincing to himself after he did. Was he making this decision with the head on his shoulders, or the one she had just so thoroughly excited? She froze just before reaching the door, turning to face him. She wore a blank expression, hiding her feelings—not wanting to let her guard down again.

“If you go to dinner with me, I’ll tell you everything I know about the Ripper.” A tiny little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before disappearing so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Deal.” She responded. “I’ll call you to make arrangements.”

“You don’t know my number.”

“I’ll call here.”

“How will I know it’s you, and I should answer? I don’t even know your name.” He reasoned.

“Uh, Sylvia.” She answered, feeling flustered. “I really do have to go now.” She lied, pushing the door open and power-walking down the hall.

What the hell was that?!?! She screamed internally.

In all her years as an assassin, never once had she felt even an inkling of emotion for a man she’d seduced on the job. Now here was this smug doctor, making her heart pitter patter like she was a virginal schoolgirl. He’d even gotten her flustered enough to blurt out her real name. She hadn’t answered to anything other than Mankiller in years, and that was how she liked it; she’d erased any trace of her real identity long ago.

Perhaps this last assignment would be more difficult than anticipated, she feared as she began to wonder how she should handle her next encounter with Dr. Chilton. Perhaps this time, she’d bitten off more than even she could chew.

Back in his office, Dr. Chilton sighed heavily before answering the intercom’s sixth buzz.

“What is it, Johnathan? This better be good.”

“Sir, Jack Crawford is here to see you, and he brought Will Graham.” With a groan, he pressed the intercom button once more to respond.

“Send them in.”

As Sylvia hurried toward he hospital exit, she happened to notice a familiar face.

Oh, no. What’s he doing here? She tried to hide her face, but there was no denying he’d seen her. Why the hell was Jack Crawford here? At this precise moment?

��Well, well. What brings you here?” He said suspiciously. Jack was one of only a handful of men alive today who knew the Mankiller’s true identity.

“I assure you, Jack, it is absolutely none of your business.” Sylvia smiled pleasantly, though she allowed her irritation to seep into her words as a warning. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

“Dr. Chilton will see you now.” The assistant from earlier announced. Jack closed his mouth in a frown before walking away, electing not to say anything at all. Sylvia smirked as she made her exit, though she knew she hadn’t seen the last of Jack Crawford.

I’ve only been here one day, and yet, what a web I’ve spun for myself. This is shaping up to be my most entertaining assignment yet.

#hannibal #au #chilton #mankiller #part 1 #my oc

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freefallingforfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Super Strange Things

Chapter Three: I Don’t Give A Damn ‘Bout My Bad Reputation

Pairing: Eventual Johnathan Byers x Reader

Overall Summary: Y/N Winchester, middle child of John and Mary Winchester, arrives in Hawking’s with her family to investigate a series of disappearances and hearsay of a strange, faceless monster, along with a girl who can supposedly move things with her mind.

This Chapter: Y/N and Jonathan receive a less than fun visit from Steve and his crew.

Warning: Warped time line (like music and birthdates of certain characters).

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @bands-and-shietz

Authors Note: Friendly suggestion to turn off Tumblr’s “Best Stuff First” in your dash board settings as it is hurting smaller blogs and lessening the material you see.

One of the disadvantages of being below the average height was that it made everything harder to reach, harder to see. Your brothers, it had seemed, had stolen every single height gene that either side of your family had to offer, and you would by ling if you said you weren’t just the slightest bit bitter about it.

This reason alone would be why you were currently standing atop the bench of one of the outdoor tables, your right hand shielding the bright sunlight from your E/C irises as you looked for your new found friend, Jonathan.

He had said to meet him outside after school so that the two of you could head to his house so he could teach you how to take proper photos in the daylight. It had been a long time since you were this excited, you were practically vibrating with energy atop that table with the passing students giving you strange glances, but you didn’t really care. You were focused on finding Jonathan, and when you finally spotted him, he leaning against a pole, trying to be subtle about looking for you. But you could see his head slowly turning as his gaze raked over the school yard.

With a satisfied smile, you jumped from the picnic table and started to make your way over to him, slinging your school bag over your shoulder, as you had plopped it down while you were searching.

“Hello,” you chirped, causing Jonathan to jump slightly.

“Hey,” he greeted, shifting his shoulders awkwardly. The vast majority of his mannerisms seemed to be laced with ineptness, which you found oddly endearing. “You wanna get going?”

“Sure,” you replied, linking you flannel covered arm through his jacketed one. Jonathan stiffened at your action, but you ignored his stiffness and began to walk towards his old, beat up car. He eased into his position along the way, and you found yourself smiling lightly as you walked, enjoying the feeling of your new friend on your arm, that is, until you saw a few figures perched up against Jonathan’s car, watching the two of you approach. You felt Jonathan go rigid, and you quirked your head to the side.

“Whose that leaning on your car?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“Trouble,” Jonathan muttered as he began to walk towards the car, breaking from your hold as he put himself in front of you, as the two of you approached the group of students leering at him. You followed behind closely, watching the group of kids blatantly, a strut in your step that you always seemed to acquire when confrontation arose.

“Hey man,” a boy with large hair stepped forward, his words were friendly, but his eyes and stance said otherwise.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked, his voice small.

The boy who had first spoken, Steve maybe? You were pretty sure you had heard things about him around school. One of the popular kids, maybe. You were going to call him Steve either way. Steve stared at Jonathan accusingly, “Nicole here was just telling us about your work.”

Nicole, you assumed, was the red head with longer hair, who perked up at the mention of herself.

“We heard great things,” Carol, an obnoxious girl from you biology class, said. Her voice was a little too cheery for your liking.

“Yea,” a guy with a face plastered full of freckles said, “Sounds real cool.”

“We’d just love to take a look,” Steve said, looking down at Jonathan, “You know, being connoisseurs of art.”

You had come to a halt beside Jonathan, crossing your arms and cocking your right up out, your intense E/C gaze sweeping over the group of students, the two girls stared back at you, but dared not say a word. You were very intimidating when mad, even despite your smaller stature, and you damn well knew it.

What the fuck is going on here? You wondered to yourself.

But as you stared at the accusing faces the group of students were giving you, it hit you, what the group was talking about. “We don’t want to stumble into Steve’s yard.” This must have been the people that were outside last night around the pool. They were talking about the pictures you had taken of them the night before when Jonathan was trying to teach you to use his camera.

“Ohhhh,” you grinned, the wheels in your heading turning quickly in hopes of diffusing the situation. You unzipped Jonathan’s backpack and stuffed your hand inside, fishing around for the binder that he kept his photos in. When you found it, you drew it out and opened it up, flipping through Jonathan’s pristine shots until your eyes landed on the out of focus photos you had undoubtedly taken the night before.

“Here, you must be talking about these things I took last night.”

Jonatan shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off as you focused on Steve.

“Last night Jon and I ran into each other in the woods where the police department found Will’s bike. Jon was looking for clues, I was looking for something my dad had dropped earlier that day, he’s the FBI agent on the case you see,”

Steve watched you with his arms crossed over his chest, he had the pictures clutched in his right hand but had yet to look at them, opting to watch you re tell the vents that had occurred last night. You figured by now he would have figured out Dean, who had established himself a popular playboy in just one short day, was your older brother. And it only took a few interactions with your elder brother to understand that he would fuck up anyone’s world if they tried something funny with you or Sammy. He was playing it safe. A smart move on his behalf.

“I asked Jonathan if he could teach me to take pictures like him, I’d always want to learn, but we never stayed in once place long enough to, not that my dad would ever buy me a camera anyway but, long story short. He agreed to teach me, and we were taking some other photos of things around the site when we heard a scream, which we ran to investigate. When we saw it was just you guys partying, Jon wanted to leave. But there’s was a lot of light right there, so I could see what I was doing, so I just wanted to snap a few and see what I needed improving on,” you paused and shrugged your shoulders.

“Jon had to develop them while I was in lit class, and we were just heading to his house to go over them, then trash them. I’ll be honest, I never really thought about how weird it was until now.”

“She’s just trying to cover for him,” the freckled boy in the back accused.

“Yea, no.” You replied with a roll of your E/C eyes. “Just telling the truth, if you look at the ones I just handed, Steve, I think? Is that your name? That’s what I’ve decided to call you, anyway, if you look at the photos I’ve handed Steve you will see that those photos are armature hour, while these are, quite frankly, gallery worthy.” You held up Jonathan’s binder, showing off a few of his faultless photos to the group.

Steve analyzed the two examples carefully, frowning as he looked at your photos.

“You could try not to look so disappointed, Steve. I am still new at that,” you grumbled sarcastically.

Carol peeked over his shoulder, her face scrunching up as she took some of the photos from Steve. “This isn’t creepy at all,” she said, looking at the photos in disgust.

“Oh please, you can’t even make out who you are in most of these,” you snapped.

“You do realize this is called stalking?” Steve asked, looking at Jonathan.

“Hey,” you said, snapping your fingers to avert Steve’s outrage back onto you, “Your issue is with me, not with him. Eyes over here.”

“And fist of all, stalking is an unwanted obsession by an individual over an elongated period of time. So, going by that definition, I am not a stalker, as I’ve only been in town for under a week and have no clue as to who any of you are,” you paused, then pointed at Carol, “Except for her, she’s the annoying girl in my bio class. Other than that, I don’t even know who the fuck you are. You never even told me if your name is actually Steve,”

“Yes,” the boy nearly shouted in frustration, “My name is Steve!”

“Finally,” you smirked, “Some answers.”

“You’re not the ones asking questions here,” the other boy chimed in. You ignored him.

“Also, don’t flatter yourselves. You’re not important enough, or good looking enough for me to stalk. Especially you, human freckle, wipe that grin off your face.” You snapped at the chuckling boy.

“So that’s it then,” Steve asked, “You just took a couple of photos of us as photography classes?”

“Yea, that’s literally it.” You said as you uncrossed your arms and put them on your hips.

“What’s going on?” a small voice asked. You turned your head slowly and scanned the new arrival over. You weren’t sure what her name was, but you had seen her in a few of your classes yesterday, along with her red headed friend. This girl was much shorter than her best friend, with pretty, long wavy brown hair, but her face, though beautiful, was contorted with worry.

“The star of the show,” Carol greeted with her hands gesturing to the upcoming girl, “These creeps were spying on us.”

“Literally not spying.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand. You were ignored, however, as Steve squared up with Jonathan, fixated on the boy for some reason.

“He was probably gonna save this one for later,” Carol said as she handed the new girl a photo from the stack. Your face contorted in confusion at wat the insufferable girl could be talking about.

“Hey,” you yelled at Steve. “What did I tell you? Your issue is with me, leave Jon alone!”

“Oh shut up,” Steve snapped. “We know your covering for him.”

Steve rounded on Jonathan once more while you fumed silently, to angry to form a coherent sentence as you shook in place. Steve poked Jonathan in the chest, and Jonathan just shrank into himself, taking the abuse.

“I don’t know why you’re covering for him though, because, look at him, he knows he did wrong. But that’s the thing about perverts, it’s hardwired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”

Steve began to rip the photos up in front of you, not that it bothered you. You could always take new photos, of things you’d rather photograph anyway, however what bother you was the way he was talking to Jonathan.

“How can we help?” the boy with the freckles asked.

“We take away his toy,” Steve said.

“No!” You and Jonathan cried out simultaneously.

“No it’s not his fault, leave his camera alone! It was me, it was me!” you screamed, lunging forward to grab a hold of Steve as he grabbed Jonathans backpack from off of the boys shoulder, shoving him back a few steps for resisting. But the freckled boy grabbed a hold of you from behind and hugged you to his chest.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you screamed, thrashing around in the boys arms. You used the back of your head to head butt the boy, but he only grunted and held you tighter.

“Hey, its ok, it’s ok,” Steve told the boy, motioning for him to release you.

“Here you go man,” Steve said, holding out the camera for Jonathan to take. He lunged forward, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch it when Steve suddenly dropped it. It hit the cemented parking lot with a loud crack, causing you to flinch.

“Opps,” Steve said as he looked down at the camera.

Jonathan trembled as he bent down to gather up the broken pieces of his beloved possession, his lip quivered as the people surrounding you laughed, and the sight of your new friend, on the ground like that, threw you into a rage.

“What the FUCK dude?” you yelled, lunging forward to snatch Steve up. However, the boy behind you grabbed you again, only this time, you brought your foot up to connect with his groin. He let out a strangled cry as he went to cup his injury, but you gave him little time to do so, as you elbowed him in the nose sending him falling backwards on his butt.

“Come here you,” you roared, you stalked forward as caught Steve by the collar of his pretty boy shirt and drug him down to your height.

“Why the actual fuck would you do that?” you seethed, looking into the freighted eyes of the older boy. “I told you it was me you idiot, what is your vendetta against Johnathan?”

“He’s a creep,” Steve spat at you, “That’s my problem.”

“He is not a creep you egotistical piece of-” you words were cut off as someone grabbed two fistfuls of your flannel and threw you backwards. Your head hit the ground, but not hard enough to keep you down.

“Y/N!” you heard Jonathan cry, but you were already hauling yourself up off the ground, your E/C irises flashing dangerously as you swept your H/L locks from your face, the loose braid you had them in had come undone during your fight.

You laughed dangerously, “Come here you little bastard,” you snarled as you rounded on the freckled boy, you brought your fist up in the air, ready to deck the boy, when a strong voice boomed over the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean yelled as he stalked towards you. His fists were clenched at his sides, his jacket flapped in the wind as he made his way over to you with a grim face.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Your sister is fucking crazy,” the freckled kid said, wiping some of the blood oozing from his nose off with his lower arm.

“Fuck you,” you growled.

“Y/N, it’s alright,” Jonathan said from behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t noticed the boy creeping up behind you in an attempt to grab and sooth your anger.

“No,” you swallowed, “It’s not alright. They can’t just treat you like that,” you protested.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder, “I’m use to it.”

“But you shouldn’t be,” you whispered back.

“Y/N,” Dean boomed, “What happed?”

“What happened is your sister and her friend are fucking creeps,” the freckled boy said.

“Shut your cake hole, human freckle!” Dean rounded on the boy.

“Does bad name calling run in the family?” you heard the boy mutter.

“Y/N?” Dean asked again as he turned back to look at you.

You quickly ran through the situation, and Dean listened with his arms crossed over his chest. When one of Steve’s crew tried to throw in their version of the story, he would shut them up real quick. At the end of the story, Dean rounded on the crew and raised a finger to point at them.

“If I ever catch one of you putting your hands on my baby sister again, even looking at her the wrong way, I will put you in an early grave, do you understand that?”

All heads in the party were eager to nod.

“I don’t wanna hear another damn word on this situation, you were all idiots, we clear?”

You all nodded.

“Good, now you six, get out of my face.”

Dismissed, Steve and company began to walk off, save for the quite girl who walked over to you last, who stayed to gather the ripped photos on the ground, shoving them into her back pack hastily when Steve called for her.

“Y/N, you coming home?” Dean asked as he raised a single brow.

“Not right now,” you said, looking back at Jonathan, “I’m gonna hang out with Jon for a bit, if that’s cool with him?”

“Yea,” Jonathan muttered, “Of course.”

“Ok,” Dean nodded, “Call the house when you need to be picked up.”

“I’ll bring her home,” Jonathan muttered.

Dean gave him the once over before he nodded, deciding that he would allow it.

“Safely,” Dean commanded, giving Jon a stern look before he turned and stalked off toward the Impala.

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lovebunnie · 6 years

Text

nick carraway and jay gatsby are both gay and heres why

its 11:30 at night and i have class tomorrow but ive been itching to make this post for about a week so im gonna do it. this wont be centered as much around jay and nick being in LOVE, since id have to read and analyze it a bit more to make honest to god claims and opinions for that, but these r some of the reasons that point to both of these characters being completely gay. also, im going to be issuing some points from others sources, but ill include links to the original texts which i recommend reading!

so the great gatsby was written in 1925, a time full of alcohol, financial bliss, and parties like u would not believe. many of these themes are prevalent in the novel, making themselves known all throughout. even the term ‘gatsby-like’ is extremely well known. needless to say, this book is extremely well known in every front. one of the ones i saw the most was calling the great gatsby ‘the greatest love story ever written.’ and before i read the novel myself, i wouldnt have been able to tell u any different. but when u read it, and really, how u analyze it, really shapes how u see the characters. to some people, it really could be an amazing love story. but to me, this story is written about someone obsessed with a facade, denying himself who he is, and a man who watches his downfall and can do nothing to stop him.

one very important thing to acknowledge is how this novel is told: its told completely in nicks perspective. we only know how he feels, we only know these characters based on how nick sees them. it is immediately biased towards nick. and what he does is describe a hell of a lot of people. but it is very distinctive in the way he does it; men and women are very differently described.

nick describes daisy in her voice and the power it has over people. all of nicks flowery language goes into daisys speech, but not in great length about what daisy looked like. with jordan, nick does a bit more describing in the way she is ‘small-breasted’ and had the ‘shoulders of a young cadet.’ these traits are masculine, and we know from the novel that nick does enjoy jordans company and he does say he ‘enjoys looking at her.’ hell, even the name ‘jordan’ is traditionally masculine. nick sees jordan leaning more towards masculinity than femininity. but even still, the flowery language is not as grand as it could be, not as we know nick can get.

its when nick is describing men that things get bold and expressive. even while describing tom does nick go into great and intimate length with him; ‘ He had changed since his Haven years. Now he was a sturdy straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding boots could hide the enormous power of that body he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing, and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage -- a cruel body’ the author of this paper literally said this passage ‘pulses with sexual energy,’ and this is for a character nick doesnt even like. it obviously means more in the way nick describes him, has more heart and passion put into it.

and now gatsby, who nick, in the final chapters, dwells on even more. we know gatsby is attractive, that much we can tell without nick even really having to describe him. but even in a single paragraph about his smile does it provoke more feeling than anything else about daisy or jordan; ‘ He smiled understandingly-- much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you might come across four or five times in your life. It faced --or seemed to face-- the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.’

like. damn nick. this is only about gatsbys smile. this was no accident or cruel twist of fate; nick is enamored with jay and obviously finds him attractive and also enjoys looking at him, like jordan. nick sees men and women differently. this could be chocked up to ‘it was the olden days’ and ‘sexism,’ but nick isnt rude to these women, nick is simply not interested in them, at all.

but how do we know nick is gay? wheres the textual proof? its written out word for word, you just have to know where to look. and where to look is at the very end of chapter 2.

so chapter 2 does a lot for the plot; it basically introduces nick to the life these people live and makes him see how unappealing it is. we meet a large cast of characters and expand on others, like myrtle, her sister, and most importantly to the subject of nicks sexuality, mr. mckee.

mr. mckee is described as a ‘pale feminine man’ and nick offhandedly describes the smudge of shaving cream on his cheek. weird right? later in the night, nick describes himself as ‘ Taking out my handkerchief I wiped from his cheek the remains of the spot of dried lather that had worried me all the afternoon.’ nick has been LOOKING at this married man all night and cleaned him up when he was messy like come ON. plus, a ‘pale feminine man’ could very easily be a stereotype of a gay man, especially in the 1920s.

but then comes the most important part about nicks sexuality in the entire book: the ellipses.

the great gatsby is relatively short, only about 200 pages or so, give or take. fitzgerald would not include anything he wouldnt need, as he is also an expert in metaphors and making things seem as they are not. everything is masterfully placed and paced, making it seem to flow like water.

the scene in question describes mr. mckee and nick on an elevator, leaving the party. mr. mckee walked out, leaving his wife, and nick decided to follow. heres the scene:

Come to lunch some day,” he suggested, as we groaned down in the elevator.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

“Keep your hands off the lever,” snapped the elevator boy.

“I beg your pardon,” said Mr. McKee with dignity, “I didn’t know I was touching it.”

“All right,” I agreed, “I’ll be glad to.”

. . . I was standing beside his bed and he was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with a great portfolio in his hands.

“Beauty and the Beast . . . Loneliness . . . Old Grocery Horse . . . Brook’n Bridge. . . . ”

Then I was lying half asleep in the cold lower level of the Pennsylvania Station, staring at the morning Tribune, and waiting for the four o’clock train.

LIKE. WHAT.

those ellipses separate the time between nick and mr. mckee on the elevator and nick and mckee at his home, with one in underwear and then nick leaving for the train at 4am. there is a large gap of time missing from this, and nick decided to leave it out while fitzgerald decided to keep it in. it means something, and the use of ellipses gives the audience enough to know what is happening without explicitly telling them. it is the authors ‘wink wink nudge nudge’ to the audience. think of the environment nick was in; tom was cheating with myrtle, the heavy metaphor of the eyes watching over the sins we think no one can see. this party was full of mischief and nick fucked a married man.

mckee does not seem intoxicated, he invites nick out to lunch while gripping the elevator handle, which are always objects shaped like dicks. plus in the novel, the scene does feel somewhat out of place; nick does not spend too much time discussing the interactions between mckee and himself, it seems thrown in. i get the impression that nick almost didnt want to include it it his writing, and put it in last minute. however, nick is fictional and i dont have much to go on off from an almost 100 year old book. its open to personal interpretation, but it seems like nick and mckee had sex and nick left on the 4am train, leaving mckee in his underwear at his own home looking through his pictures.

even at the beginning of the novel, nick is planning on living in a house with another man before the plan falls through and he goes to washington dc. could this be a failed boyfriend? we cant say. but it is a possibility.

nick carraway ends the novel mourning his friend jay gatsby, moving back to the midwest alone and away from the glitz and glam of new york. his ending does not involve getting married and having kids and riding off into the sunset, which seems bittersweet for our narrator. however, given the way things planned out for other characters, this is the best ending we could hope for for nick, one away from the destruction and one where he can at least begin to to to be happy again.

and now we move onto jay.

ill admit, this has little to do with textual evidence; i cant point out a place where jay fucks a dude or describe the way jay sees men and women; with nick being our narrator, again, he only know his perspective. but we do hear things about jay from other characters, how he acts and acted before nick and the type of man he is.

wolfshiem describes jay as ‘ very careful about women. He would never so much as look at a friend’s wife.’ this means that jay knows women and knows when to back off, never advancing on someone he had no claim to. this is very important to me for several reasons.

1. it implies jay is not a cheater

2. it implies jay has been around enough women to know who is who

3. it shows jay is respectful

this also says to me that jay is not bi; he only has eyes for daisy, and not other woman. and those eyes for daisy are questionable.

we know daisy and jay had last seen each other 5 years prior to the events of the novel. in that time, jay had collected numerous things about daisy, built a house just so he could see her, and blew thousands of dollars every weekend for parties in hope that daisy would show up, even obtaining money illegally just to impress daisy.

jay gatsby is obsessed with daisy.

this is obvious from the text, the behaviors he puts forward are strange and creepy in pursuit of daisy. gatsby stares longingly out the window, cant hold a conversation with nick, and flat out bolts out of a restaurant to avoid embarrassment. he is an awkward guy, no doubt. and he lives his life as trying to be someone else, specifically, the man he thinks daisy wants from 5 years ago. when the car crashes with myrtle, all gatsby cares about is how daisy feels; when hes literally about to get ganked all he thinks about is daisy, daisy daisy daisy.

this isnt love, and i think deep down, jay knows it. this is the equivalent of dudebros who go above and beyond to prove they arent gay but end up the most gay of them all. gatsby is compensating for his feelings and trying to push the limit to deny himself more and hide back into the closet. he wants to seem the most manly he can get and basically say ‘wow i love women! i love women so much! look what i did for this woman! look at how much i love her!’

daisy is the first person jay felt he could be himself around, could begin to feel happy. and when he went to war, he no longer had something to push all his feelings onto. plus he was surrounded by other men, and for someone so in denial about their own sexuality, it probably drives them to pretty bad places. pretty obsessive places. he needs daisy, not because he loves her, but because he needs to security blanket. he needs to feel validated.

those glaces and stares out at nick feel like cracks of the real jay poking through, one who likes men but cannot admit it to himself. after all, as a man so attached and desperate for the ‘american dream,’ back in the 1920s, that did not include marrying a man. jay lives with internalized homophobia and tries to calm his nerves with his pretend love of daisy.

i could go on and on about this forever but its 12:30 and i have class.

if u take nothing from this, let me leave u with these main bullets:

TL;DR

nick fucked a dude

nick describes men erotically while he describes women very dully

nick almost lived with another man

jay is obsessed with daisy to repress his emotions

the separation and wartime made things worse for him

his internalized homophobia causes the plot

his longing stares out the window at nick are cracks in his facade

ty and goodnight

#space.txt #the great gatsby #natsby #jay gatsby #nick carraway #I SPENT AN HOUR ON THIS #YALL #idc if no one reads this i had fun writing it #ut yeah nick fucked a dude confirmed

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sudanhelp53-blog · 5 years

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What We Read in 2018

It’s the end of the year and we’re going to round up all the books Team LCK and beyond read in 2018! If you are looking for an eclectic list of new and old books to add to your reading list, scroll down!

2018 Reading List

I am excited to round up our 2018 reading list filled with the books we’ve read, and loved, in 2018! We’ve rounded up an eclectic list of books by including reading list from myself, Kelli (a member of the LCK team), my husband Mike and my brother Adam. Everybody has such different books lists! It’s safe to say there is a bit of something for everyone here!

P.S. Did you know we have a virtual book club? We started it this year in 2018, and basically we read a book and chat in the Facebook group on a specific date about it! Interested? Join the Facebook group here.

Lexi’s Top Book Picks of 2018:

So many of these books were real page-turners that I couldn’t put down. I highly recommend them all! They are largely fiction books.

The Light We Lost: I could not put this book down! “Lucy is faced with a life-altering choice. But before she can make her decision, she must start her story—their story—at the very beginning.” This book keeping me up wanting to read more and more of it. A really unique, beautiful story.

The Silent Wife: Another quick, suspenseful read.

The Perfect Stranger: I LOVED this book. It has twist and turns, makes you second guess characters, and was a quick, great read.

The Marsh Kings Daughter: Totally suspenseful. “Helena has a secret: she is the product of an abduction. Her mother was kidnapped as a teenager by her father and kept in a remote cabin in the marshlands of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Helena, born two years after the abduction, loved her home in nature–fishing, tracking, hunting. And despite her father’s odd temperament and sometimes brutal behavior, she loved him, too … until she learned precisely how savage a person he could be.” I couldn’t put this one down.

The Great Alone: A must read. Takes place in Alaska and really is a unique book that shows you life in a totally different way. I really loved this book!

The Last Mrs. Parrish: It took me a bit to get into this book because I really didn’t like one of the characters, but once I got into it, I couldn’t put it down.

The Woman In The Window: I was deep into this story from the beginning. What you assume is totally not the case, and worth the read.

The Wife Between Us: The title is not what you think! Twist and turns that will keep you guessing the whole time. I loved this book. A total page turner.

Still Me: If you’ve read Me Before You and After You, read this last sequel. I really enjoyed it to tie together the story.

Behind Closed Doors: Dark! Totally suspenseful. I read this in two days flat. If you love a good dark page-turner, grab this book!

Little Fires Everywhere: I really liked this book, but it took me a bit to get into. It’s not in my top 5, but I think it’s worth a read!

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F—: A great book for some life perspective!

The Power of Vulnerability (Audiobook): A great listen. If you love Brene Brown, you’ll love this listen.

Currently reading (on the beach):

Kelli’s top picks that she read this year:

These are largely non-fiction books, with a bend toward women in the work place and parenting.

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown: All of Brene Brown’s books are really fantastic if you are interested in understanding yourself and other humans a bit more empathetically and honestly, and this one is no different. Daring Greatly means leaning in to the hard and heavy stuff in your life to live more whole-heartedly. I found the section on raising kids also really game changing and self-affirming as well. Pick this one up if you’d like to be a better human.

How to Get Sh*t Done by Erin Falconer: This book isn’t about adding more items to your t0-do list, it’s actually about how to reduce what is on your to do list so you can truly get more (and meaningful) stuff done in your life. It is geared towards woman in the working world but also is just a great manifesto for woman living in this current day and age.

Know Your Value by Mike Brzezinski: If you are a woman living in 2018, you should read this book. This book talks about everyday struggles that woman living now face, especially in the working world, and how to know your value and overcome them. This is a large statement but I would say this book was probably the most pivotal book I’ve read in my adult life.

Peaceful Parents, Happy Kids by Laura Markham: This book I’ve slowly been reading for about a year and during the rough cycles of parenting two toddlers I reread old chapters to remind myself of what is important. It’s a nice handbook to have to help have peaceful interactions in your home, without being preachy. And it offers great advice on how to truly connect with your children and empathize with them in a meaningful way.

How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish: This book should be given out to all parents when their children are born. It offers extremely practically advice on how to respect your children as whole beings that really creates a positive meaningful relationship with your children. If you are struggling with how to talk with your kids, or are in need of some behavioral changes at home this is definitely a must read for all ages of kids. We all want to do better as parents and this is such a practical book to help you get there.

Currently Reading:

Adam’s top picks that he read this year:

My brother Adam Kornblum is one of the most interesting, creative, intellectual, hard-working guys I know! I’m not just saying that because he’s my brother! Learn more about him through his LinkedIn here! His books reflect him so perfectly with a mix of history, education, psychology and more.

The Laws of Human Nature by Robert Greene: This author (famous for The 48 Laws of Power, 33 Strategies of War and more) offers real insight into human behavior, and provides interesting historical stories to show you how he derived at the insight, and then provides action steps to utilize each law. You can read the book in a linear fashion or through individual chapters. Both are utterly rewarding.

Principles by Ray Dalio: Ray Dalio is the founder of Bridgewater, one of the largest financial hedgefunds in the world. He shares the principles that helped him succeed both personally and professionally. One of the differentiators of his business principles is his “radical transparency” environment. In short, everything is recorded and feedback is swift and brutally honest. It’s not for everyone but it certainly is an interesting concept. You can also follow Ray on social media—he provides the key points of each of his Principles.

A Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume: If you ever had thoughts on why people behave the way they do but feel you just can’t articulate how to say it, read David Hume. He’s an 18th century philosopher and truly deciphers human nature in an easy-to-digest way. Hume defines laws of human nature, specially analyzing what governs human behavior—concluding that passion trumps reason. It has been said that Hume is responsible for cognitive science and is one of the most influential figures in the history of philosophy.

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie is a must-read for me every year! Some of what Carnegie shares are things which you know but truly need to be reminded of. For example, simply remembering someone’s name or legitimately caring about what others care about makes the difference. In the end, you’ll realize influencing people happens when you care. And, when you care, you find yourself winning friends which builds prosperous relationships. When both parties win in a relationship, it’s less about influencing by itself.

Ogilvy on Advertising in the Digital Age by Miles Young: Ogilvy is one of the largest advertising agencies in the world and I’m proud to have worked there for six and half years. Miles Young, Ogilvy’s former Chairman & CEO, and now the Warden of New College, picks up where the great David Ogilvy left off [in his book Ogilvy on Advertising]. Young shares key marketing principles in the digital age highlighting some of the best marketing and communications work in the last decade. He explains digital marketing easily and very clearly.

Re-reading Influence by Robert Cialdini: In college I read Philosophical Explanation by Robert Nozick, that breaks down the difference between coercion and influence. It read as if he viewed the world in black and white. You are either influencing to convince people or coercing (or failing at both, of course). Coercing someone is as bad as it sounds which led me on a quest to understand what influencing behavior actually means. Robert Cialdini’s Influence doesn’t solely tell you why people react like they do, but he advises you to look out for the tricks so you don’t fall for them yourself. I also recommend Cialdini’s sequel Pre-Suasion, too. When I started my career, I created a game and was able to sell it to Hasbro. Having no knowledge of the business world, I relied heavily on this book, as well as others, to help me avoid a few traps. I re-read Influence every year.

Walt Disney by Neil Gabler: Walt Disney had a lot of struggles from when he started his career as an animator to the early days of The Walt Disney Company. Disney proves that with intense focus, a strive for pure excellence, and to act with the utmost conviction whether you’re right or wrong are keys to success and purpose in life.

Republic by Plato: What I love about philosophy is despite reading this book at least 20 times, I discover something new each time. As another Greek philosopher once closely remarked, No person ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he/she not the same person. If you only read one excerpt, you should read The Allegory of the Cave (VII). The movie The Matrix’s illustrates the meaning. Both the passage and the movie ask the same metaphysical question around ‘what is real?’

And lastly my husband Mike’s top picks he read this year:

Mike’s list, much like Adam, reflects a varied range of non-fiction, spirituality and history!

Sapiens and Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari: Unbelievable perspectives of understanding out history as a human species and where we may be going in the future. Sapiens should is a must read for anyone.

Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins: A no-nonsense book about cutting through the bullshit of your mind that says you can’t do something. Also an incredibly moving memoir of someone who has experience incredibly deep struggle in their life.

A Theory of Everything by Ken Wilbur: An introduction to Integral theory, which is an incredible way of understanding the world. If you often listen to opposing perspectives and think they are both right, this book is for you.

Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism by Chogyam Trungpa: Embarking on a spiritual path can always lead to you thinking that you are a “spiritual person” This ends up being a massive pitfall. This book is the best antidote to that.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi: An incredibly emotional and eyeopening memoir about the medical system.

Atomic Habits by James Clear: The best and most complete advice for creating habits and properly sticking to them.

Lexi’s Reading List for 2019:

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark

Then She Was Gone

YOU

The Kind Worth Killing

Into the Water

The Perfect Nanny

Tempting Fate

Ghosted

Educated, A Memoir

Into the Darkest Corner

The Good Girl

Everything We Left Behind

A Stranger in the House

One Day in December

All We Ever Wanted

Our Kind 0f Cruelty

Before We Were Yours

Recommended by you (via Instagram!):

The Four Agreements

Michelle Obama’s Becoming

The Dinner List

Calypso

Verity

When Life Gives you Lululemons

Girl’s Night Out

The Story Ends with Us

Crazy Rich Asians

The Simple Favor

Homegoing

Eight Hundred Grapes

The Perfect Couple

The Nightingale (read this)

The Help (read this)

P.S. This post may contain affiliate links. By shopping through these links, we make a (very small) percentage of your sale. You don’t pay any more! This helps support the growth of LCK and our team, so thank you in advance! All our love!

What books did you read this year that you loved?

Source: https://lexiscleankitchen.com/2018-books/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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myladyladybug · 7 years

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Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place - Chapter 1

Summary: A week after Marinette and Adrien's identities are revealed, Adrien is looking for any and all opportunities to talk to his Lady, and she is looking for any and all opportunities to run away from him and their problems. Here I am, as an author, forcing the two of them into a corner to talk about their feelings.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2075

Chapter: 1/3

FF.net Ao3

Disclaimer: Hide-and-seek in the dark is a game I’ve played with friends. I do not come from Paris and would not be surprised if they didn’t have this or play this. My knowledge of games there is more than limited. So, if helps, just imagine they’re Canadian/American for this one.

ADRIEN

One could probably call this “destiny”. Adrien would much rather refer to is as “uncomfortable”. A great discomfort. A particular pressure that had found a way to affect both his breathing and his heart rate. What was simultaneously a gift and a hindrance. He couldn’t decide whether or not he was okay with the situation. But most certainly, above all else, it was all embarrassing.

He didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. It was something he couldn’t control, however hard he tried. And he tried very, very, hard.

Hide-and-seek-in-the-dark was supposed to be fun, and he wanted it to be fun. It was usually fun. This – where he was, and the state he was in – was not something he would have described as “fun”. There were probably some other words he could have used, some more inappropriate than others, but “fun” definitely was not one of them.

To make matters more awkward, he liked her. And this was not the way he had planned to show her how much he liked her. It might have worked a little better if she had perhaps been his girlfriend. The gesture might even have been endearing. But alas, he hadn’t exactly made it that far quite yet.

Last week, some interesting circumstances had unfolded. Long story short, they both found out about each others’ identities. If it had not been a matter of life and death, it would have never happened. But it was. And it had.

He knew she hadn’t wanted to tell him. She didn’t want anyone to know, least of all, for him to know. They had been partners for nearly four years, and she seemed no more trusting of him in that regard than ever. Of course, she had trusted him with her life, but by no means her identity. She only wanted him to be safe. Or, so she continued to tell him. Her intentions were pure; he did not suspect malice. But there were days when he wished she hadn’t taken their identities as seriously as she did.

On the other hand, he was elated to know it was Marinette. She was a lovely girl and sweeter than anyone he’d ever known. If Ladybug hadn’t been such a strong feature of his life, it would have been Marinette. And now, he didn’t have to choose between the two. If not for the awkward atmosphere that promptly ensued their reveal, he would have professed his love for her right then and there.

That wasn’t the case however, and the atmosphere was still weird. Marinette hardly spoke to him, and at every opportunity he found to talk, she found some excuse to leave. Clearly, he was being avoided.

Actually, he had the intention to confront her at Nino’s surprise party. He had had a speech all planned out about how he didn’t want things between them to go bad just because they hadn’t revealed their identities the way they had hoped to. He wanted to go over what should have been said the day they had found out. He wanted to clear the air. At the very least, he wanted things to go back to the way they were. At most, he wanted to kiss her.

To his eternal shock, Adrien’s father had permitted him to hold a small party for his best friend at their home. There were obviously some restrictions, but it was more than he had hoped for.

Nino finished with his cake and presents, and Adrien couldn’t recall who had insisted on the game. He hadn’t recalled much of anything that happened that day once Marinette had entered his home.

Something in him seemed to stall and freeze up. Such involuntary actions had become more and more common since having learned of her identity. Nothing appeared to change for her though. At least, not beyond her blatant avoidance of him.

Nino was It, having the benison of being the birthday boy. For thirty seconds, they scrambled for places to hide. The Agreste Manor was a fairly large space, even as they were banned from many areas of the house, which was made known to the group the second they entered it.

Adrien managed to secure himself a space between two walls that was made available for decorative purposes. He had explored this house countless times as a younger child and, and had the opportunity to really get to know the space he had been confined to for most of his life. He could slide into the two foot gap sideways and lean against the wall until he was found. Years ago, he could crawl in backwards and forwards with ease. When his mother had been around, they themselves would play some hide-and-seek. He would always win, and she would always pretend not to see him. He missed it.

The birthday boy was almost finished counting. Only 5 seconds remained.

26…

27…

28…

“Eek!”

Adrien’s small hiding spot had suddenly become smaller. Marinette slipped into the crawl space in the last couple of seconds in a state of panic. It took another half of a second to realize who had been there before her. In that very moment, Adrien watched as her panicked expression became that of pure and utter shock and regret. The blood appeared to simultaneously drain from her face, and flush it. She looked like an adorable mess. He, on the other hand, handled shock a little differently. His throat seized and any words that could have possibly escaped his mouth were thwarted. This likely resulted in a loose jaw and unblinking eyes. He probably looked like a fish.

“Adrien!” she exclaimed, nearly revealing their hiding spot. He put a finger over his lips and glanced out from the opening, attempting to appear preoccupied and focused. All this, to mask his actual fixation on breathing normally and regulating his heart rate.

“Hi,” he replied, the wind feeling like it had just been knocked from his lungs. It was a strained reply. It sounded bad. He was not off to a great start. She immediately made a move to back out of area and halted when they heard Nino’s voice.

“Ready or not! Here I come!” Shit.

“I…I can leave,” Marinette stammered, leaning as far away from him as possible. Adrien grabbed at her hand, stopping her. It wasn’t the smart thing to do. He should have let her leave. She wasn’t comfortable and she wanted to leave. And he shouldn’t have stopped her. But he had.

“I’ll leave. I have another spot in mind already,” he said, trying to mend his ridiculous instinct. “If you leave, it’d take too long to find a new spot, and you’d get caught early, and that wouldn’t be very fun.” He gave her his best model smile, not trusting himself with a genuine one at the moment. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and talk to her, like he had planned. But it wasn’t the right moment, and she didn’t want to be there. She was uncomfortable, and that was the last thing he wanted for her to feel, especially at his expense. He would leave.

Adrien analyzed the amount space he had to maneuver himself around her. Carefully, he stepped a foot between her legs, hoping to be strategic about the task. This, he quickly discovered, was his first mistake.

As he stood, Marinette’s body was now pressed up against his own. Her hands and chest pressed up against his torso. He realized that he must have jerked upward at some point, because upon glancing down to check on his partner’s reaction to his slightly inappropriate action, he noticed a very prominently adjusted bosom before him. Her slim fit, low cut, t-shirt was almost unfair; like the universe was making fun of him; like they were enjoying his suffering.

To add insult to injury, there was the alternative issue of her leg. She hadn’t appeared to notice, but her leg was touching him in a way that was not helping the situation.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Things were not developing well. He had to think of something else. Anything else. Sad things. Gross things. Other things. Other things needed to be thought of. Anything other than the fact that Marinette was pressed up against him. This was a bad spot for him to be in. He should have known better than to believe that they would both be able to fit. There was only about two feet of space. Any speculation he could have had should have been considered a delusion. And now it probably looked deliberate. It was his house for Pete’s sake!

Adrien’s face was flooding with blood almost as quickly as his pants were. He moved his fist to nearly slam the wall next to Marinette’s head, and his other hand grasped desperately to the wall behind him. Sweat formed on his forehead, his neck, and nearly everywhere else. Bracing the walls helped to ground him, even if it only helped a little bit. Something had to help. Adrien forced himself to close his eyes and concentrate on distracting himself and directing everything in his body away from where it currently was.

In his new position, he had frozen, for he knew that just one more bit of movement would put him over the edge.

He forgot how attractive he found her. He seriously underestimated how attractive he found her. This grave miscalculation was about to cost him his sanity, his reputation as a human being, and any potential relationship he could have possibly had with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All of that was gone now. He might as well had given up. All was lost. The wall could just swallow him up for all he cared. It would have been a saving grace if the world had exploded right then and there.

“Uhm… Adrien?” Marinette whispered. “Are… are you okay?” He looked down at her concerned face, regretting the move immediately. Imagery was a whole different ball game in comparison to seeing her flushed face in the flesh. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking off to the side. And her face was probably approaching the same shade as his. She was looking away because she was embarrassed. Oh God. She knew.

“Yea!” he lied, “I’m fine. E-everything’s fine. I’m just, a little, stuck. So. Maybe we should just, wait for Nino, or someone, to find us.” He could barely choke the words out. Adrien noted Marinette’s stiff shoulders as she chose to relax them and slide down against the wall, and his torso. Everything was bad.

“R-right,” she mumbled. They stood in silence for a moment, his panicked thoughts filling the empty air. It was a short while before Marinette became visibly uncomfortable again. A look of determination, which he had more commonly seen on the face of Ladybug, suddenly flared into her eyes. It was only allowed a brief entrance however, as she became more acutely aware of their situation and appeared to require some revaluation. “I could try to, like…” As she spoke, Marinette moved the limb he had regretted putting in between his legs. A quick shot of adrenalin rushed down his spine and he clenched his teeth to stop any, and all of the sounds that threatened to emerge, from escaping.

“No!” Adrien whimpered. Despite his best efforts, he could barely utter the word without creating unnecessary noise. He nearly screamed it, in fact. It had been the nature of the utterance. “Uh, no,” he attempted to rectify. “It’s okay. Please, don’t move.” It occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to wait for someone to find them. The position was compromising to say the least, what with both of their faces colored with blood, and his… well, he shouldn’t be seen. There had to be something else they could do. “I’m… I’m going to try… something.”

“Okay.”

Second Disclaimer: I’m demisexual with zero sexual experience. Any and all sexual yearning described in this story was experienced purely through the reading of other people’s fics. Sorry for any inaccuracies!

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous ladybug fan fiction #ml fanfic #myladyladybug writes

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givencontext · 5 years

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Self Help Fest

In the first half of this year, I read 27 books. Twelve of those were non-fiction books that I think qualify as “self help.” Maybe a better way of describing these books is to say they are for my personal or professional development, but isn’t that just trying to put a spin on the fact that I am, in fact, trying to help my Self. I have always enjoyed this type of book ever since I read I’m Okay, You’re Okay in high school. I have seriously considered joining or starting a Self Help book club. Here are the books and how much they helped me. (All book title headers in this post are links!)

Sabbatical from YES by Christi Daniels

This book is written by my dear friend Christi. She’s an amazing woman who has found her calling helping other women tap into their own amazingness. I have worked with Christi’s coaching before and I feel like I am pretty good at saying NO, so I wondered how much more I could gain from reading her book. Lots! This is a workshop in book form and it will be as helpful as you let it be by taking her advice and trying out her suggestions. Will your family think you are crazy if they walk in while you are practicing your power pose? Just explain that they should try it too! One of my favorite sections is when she contrasts synthetic vs true pleasure. I believe her when she says we all need an infusion of vitamin P (pleasure.) She says,”It is our right and duty to soak up as much real and sacred pleasure as we can.” Yes, please! Sometimes in life we just need a reminder or “permission.” Granted! So many yummy tidbits in this book. Get it, do the work, see for yourself!

You Are a Badass Every Day by Jen Sincero

This book is meant to be a daily reader that you peruse and ponder, but I got it from the library, so I only had 14 days to read it. This is the third Jen Sincero book that I’ve read in the past year-ish. Last year I read both You Are a Badass and You Are a Badass at Making Money I think the money one was my favorite, because it had less rehashing of some of the same “positive vibe” stuff that I get from a lot of sources. It’s always good to have those positive vibes reinforced, but there does tend to be a lot of overlap in this genre. The money making perspective was a refreshing change. And we have to change the way that we as women think and talk about money. I can’t recall if Sincero gives the old “latte” advise or not, but at least she’s a woman talking about money. #props The Every Day book is nice short snippets and my favorite piece of advice involves driving away from civilization, rolling up your car windows, and screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs for three whole minutes. Try it.

Better Than Before by Gretchen Rubin

This is another of my annual re-reads. This book had a profound effect on my life a few years ago and put me in the right frame of mind to start Bright Line Eating. Understanding myself as a Rebel help me feel less frustration with myself. BTB also introduces a lot of either/or scenarios that help me understand more about myself and others. For instance, did you know we aren’t all morning people? Did you know it’s easier for some people to abstain from something entirely (like sugar) than it is for them to moderate their intake? I’ve been through this book 3 or 4 times now, but I always benefit from listening to it again.

The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin

This is a newer book where Gretchen takes a deep dive into each of her Four Tendencies. You get further details on the strengths and weaknesses of each tendency, and explanations of how those two are usually the same thing. There are also great tips on how your tendency typically interacts with others in certain relationships. For instance, my spouse is also a Rebel… I gained some valuable insight there! This one really begs to be owned as a sort of reference manual. You will want this at your fingertips for when you are trying to figure people out. Rubin is good about reminding us that this is only one aspect of a person’s personality, but it covers a lot of ground. Start with Better Than Before, then this one. You can thank me later.

Dark Horse by Todd Rose and Ogi Ogas

Dark Horse was recommended to me because of my aforementioned Rebel tendency. This book is about people who work around the “standardization covenant” to pursue fulfillment and thereby gain their own version of “success.” I loved it, but one time through is not going to be enough. Originally, I got DH from the library, but soon I was downloading it from Audible so I can listen on repeat until it all sinks in. This is a different paradigm and there are a lot of deep-seated ideas that are hard to overcome, even if they are making us miserable. I am one of those people who has no idea what my purpose in life is, so I need to spend a lot more time on that chapter about micro-motives. If you are unhappy with the daily grind, I highly recommend this one for you.

Get Your Sh*t Together by Sarah Knight

The best thing about this book was that it really made me feel like I have my sh*t together. I think the target audience for this book is slightly younger than I am. Obviously I chose this book because I felt like I needed to get it together, but much of the advice was stuff I could put a check mark next to because I am already doing it. My least favorite part was probably the section giving weight loss advice from someone who hasn’t had a real struggle in this area. The “all things in moderation” advice is out of date. Sarah Knight needs to read Better Than Before and recognize that people are different and what works for some people won’t work for all people. She also gives the “skip the latte” line around money and goes into great detail about how this will get you where you want to go. F that! She doesn’t claim to be an expert in nutrition or finance, so these sections are basically the same-old-same-old regurgitation of the same old advice that hasn’t helped you yet if you are reading a book looking for advice on those things… I do think there is some good stuff in here, especially for people who are able to separate the wheat from the chaff and decide which tips will get them closer to their personal goals. My favorite take-away was the What/Why method… and feeling much better about how together I am. Thank you, Sarah.

The Power of Style by Bobbie Thomas

When I was at the library (one of my happy places) to work on my First Quarter Goal Review, I was pulling books off the shelves that had images that inspire me and reinforce those goals. While I was looking for books on design, architecture, art, and beauty this book called out to me. I took it to the table where I opened and arranged various books while filling out my planner then when it was time to go home I took this book with me. I do not consider myself a stylish person. Having lived nearly all of my adult life overweight, my style has always been if-it-fits-and-it’s-cheap-buy-it. I did have some fun experimenting when I subscribed to Gwynnie Bee for several years, but as soon as I cancelled that I quickly went into “black pants” mode. Bobbie Thomas promised to help me with that, and I like her approach. We often hear that we should dress for the job we want to have, but Bobbie proposes that we dress as the person we want to be. My only problem is that I seldom want to be the same person two days in a row. This book made me think about my style, but I did not become anyone’s favorite style icon overnight. Baby steps, right? I am thinking of investing in some florals. Stay tuned.

Radical Candor by Kim Scott

I mostly skimmed this one, and I never do that with a book. I would suggest getting the Cliffs Notes version of this one. If you like podcasts, they have one. I felt like I didn’t need so many examples. There’s some good stuff in here, but some people will need personality transplants to make it happen. I might be one of those people. I have to admit that this book sparks my perfectionist tendencies and makes me want to analyze every word I say to everyone at work. That’s no way to live.

Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson

This one might not really be a self help book, but Lawson does give some advice for how to live a happy life. Some of the stories are just hilarious. I appreciate Jenny’s candidness about her struggles with mental illness. That is what drew me to this book. That being said, there were at least two things in the book that I think I would have kept to myself if I were her. She didn’t. She lays it all out. I think my favorite take-away from this book was not something of Jenny’s but something that she shares that Neil Gaiman said to her. Of course I’m dreadfully jealous that she gets to say “my friend, Neil” but when she was freaked out and feeling inadequate to the task of reading her own audiobook, he told her to “pretend you’re good at it.” Brilliant!

For other references to Neil Gaiman, who I have talked about in my blog more times than Oscar Wilde, so I should probably change my answer on that “favorite author” thing… I mention him in posts here, here, and here, so far. Sadly, my only reference to Oscar Wilde was here.

Authentic Happiness by Martin E. P. Seligman, Ph.D.

I don’t remember many details about this book, but I gave it four stars on Goodreads, so I must have liked it. Seligman is a big name in positive psychology, so he’s a good resource for this kind of stuff. I think he is so often referenced that I had heard most of his main points before, which may be why I have trouble recalling them now. It can’t hurt to have a refresher on how to actively pursue happiness. I might have to give this one another go.

Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill

I talked about this book in my post about Audiobooks I Solemnly Swear to Listen to Once Each Year and I started the year with it. I know this book is a little dated, but it has been the go-to resource for everyone who writes books about money, so this gets straight to the source material. My current employer is also one of the great American success stories, so I totally geek out on that part every time. Perhaps my favorite thing about this book is that Hill acknowledges that there’s very little relationship between hard work and monetary reward. I subscribe to the “everything doesn’t always have to be hard” and “flowers don’t *try* to bloom” philosophies. I still think this book is worth repeating until I finally get that mental shift he prescribes. Old ways of thinking die hard.

Dare to Lead by Brene Brown

I like what Brene does, and this book takes some of her best stuff and applies it where it is sorely needed – the workplace. She talks about shifts that need to happen in workplace/corporate culture to make it more conducive to courage and vulnerability. She doesn’t say it, but can we just admit that she’s talking about doing away with toxic masculinity and having a more inclusive culture? Yes, please, thank you. There is also some really good stuff in here about what leadership means and that you do not have to be in a position of authority to be a leader. Years ago when I was a supervisor, I went through a frustrated phase at work. Somehow I got the idea to tell myself every day when I got in the car: I’m not going to work, I’m going to lead. It changed how I viewed my daily responsibilities and was very quickly reflected in my attitude and performance.

Brene also suggests thinking about your core values and narrowing them to just two main ones to focus on. If you read this post, you know that I already have mine narrowed to three. Call me a Rebel, (a la, The Four Tendencies mentioned above,) but I am going to keep all three of mine. It is a good reminder to have a couple (or a few) things to use as filters for what gets into your life. This leads us to BOUNDARIES. When you know your core values and keep them simple, it’s easier to set boundaries and hold yourself and others accountable to maintaining them. This is a fantastic book for an office book club. Highly recommend.

Leave a comment to let me know your favorite self help book or a recent one you have read.

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cognitive-psych-ls-blog · 7 years

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Book Blog Report

My name is Lily Schlicht and I am in my second year at Saddleback. I have always had an interest in psychology but after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality disorder my interest in cognitive psychology grew. I wanted to understand which parts of my diagnosis where manifested to do my environment and which if any where manifested due to biological or brain structure. This interest in how specific disorders manifest pointed me toward neuropsychology. I want to see if brain structure or functioning impacts whether or not someone gets diagnosed with certain diagnosis such as Anorexia Verses Binge Eating Disorder. The Cognitive Psychology book I chose is called Blink the Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell. I chose Blink mainly because I already had it but also because I am interested in what causes impulsivity to most often result in negative out comes. Personally I use to have a very difficult time with impulsivity but since learning how to slow down and pay attention to details I have been able to be less impulsive.

The author, Malcolm Gladwell was born in England but resides in Canada as a journalist and author. Malcolm Gladwell is known for writing The Tipping Point, Blink, Outliers, What the Dog Saw: and Other Adventures, David and Goliath; Underdogs, Misfits and The Art of Battling Giants. Just like every author he has been both praised and cotticed. Gladwell's book The Tipping Point was named as one of the best books of the decade. On the other hand, both his books and his approaches have been criticized. Maureen Tkucik and Steven Pinker both challenged Gladwell on his focus of anecdotal evidence instead of research. Anecdotal evidence is described as casually collecting evidence, usually by getting personal testimony. Among verbal praise and criticism, he also received many awards and honors. Some of his awards and honors include being named one of the Times 100 influential people in 2005, in 2007 he received an honorary degree from the University of Waterloo and the first Award for Excellence in the reporting of Social Issues from the American Sociological Association.

In Blink Gladwell's main focus is to support people in understanding how their subconscious is highly sensitive to external stimuli. He explores the psychological process of both intuition and instinct. As well as intuition and instinct he talks about snap judgment and how it can be important in situations of like or death. The book argues that we should learn to appreciate judgments based on limited information. In the beginning of the book he tells a story of a statue called a koura. This koura was presented to the Getty Museum as an authentic piece. Houghton, Harrison, and George Despinis all felt or thought something that promoted them to believe this koura was in fact a fake. In chapter one Gladwell introduces the idea of "thin-slicing". Thin slicing is the ability for the unconscious mind to find pattern and meaning in short experiences and first impressions. In simple terms he talks about the ability of being able to look as small sections of a situation and act on what we know. In chapter two he goes on to talk about priming. Priming is when a person experiences behavior changes due to external factors. This person may or may not be aware of the changes in their behavior. Going onto chapter three he talks about the dark side of slicing. The dark side of slicing is when our unconscious minds are prejudice which then influences our conscious decisions.

In chapter four he talks about how in Western culture we tend to focus on analytical decision making instead of intuitive decision making. Van Riper was an example Gladwell gave as someone who believed in intuitive decision making, especially on the battlefield. In chapter five Gladwell goes into detail about how thin slicing can be an important aspect of marketing. He also talks about how when products are surveyed they usually do better with the marketing team than the public. In the last chapter he talks about how thin-slicing can go wrong. The example he gives is the shooting of Amadou Diallo. In recent years thin-slicing going wrong has been common in police departments with shootings of African American men and women.

For this paragraph and for the analyzation of Blink I am going to focus on one aspect, thin slicing. As I said before thin slicing is the ability for the unconscious mind to pick up pattern and meaning in short instances. One of the studies I found was a study focusing on decision making in children and adolescents. The study talks about how a child or adolescent can make risky decisions due to developmental trajectory. The study measured decision making in children and adolescents ranging in age from eight to seventeen years old. To measure decision making abilities they used the Iowa Gambling Task created by Bechara in 2007. They used a computerized version of the IGT, the Wechster Abbreviated Scale of Intelligence, the WCST, the TMT-B, the self-ordered pointing task, and the connect continuous performance test. At the time the book was released like I said early Gladwell was criticized for his choice in how he conducted his study’s. He did not rely on research.

I enjoyed reading this book and when I got it I was excited to read it. What surprised me was that when I found out the way he conducts research is mainly through people’s testimonies I was shocked. From what we learned in class about memory and testimonies I was surprised to see a well known author in psychology or cognitive neuropsychology. This book caused me to think about how I use to be impulsive but once I started focusing on what I was doing I became less and less impulsive. I would suggest this book to people who are interested in psychology, especially cognitive psychology or neuroscience. Over all I thought this was a great learning opportunity.

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