#i used sai in the past but lost the license email

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Too Old For This - Chapter 4 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*  

'No one's going to notice if I leave early, anyway,' Leroy told himself, getting up from his seat and packing his bag.

He grabbed the insurance policy papers Clarissa had reminded him to drop off as he made a mental note to send her an email when he got on the bus stating that he was okay with the new insurance and would like to sign up.

He hoisted his bag on his shoulder, turning off the light in his small office before wandering into the main corridors.

The office was located within a bigger building that housed multiple offices that were being leased.

Leroy's company was on the fourth floor of a six-story building.

He walked past the conference room that was currently in use and then through the very small break room that had two coworkers talking to themselves in his shed voices.

Leroy was sure he heard his name somewhere but he kept walking, before making it to the front desk that was Clarissa's workspace and dropping the insurance policy document on it.

He signed out on his phone, leaving the office space and making his way down the stairs.  

Stairs were hard to get through but Leroy was forever haunted about the one time the elevator stopped working during rush hour when employees from multiple companies had packed themselves like sardines in the elevator that had a very clear weight limit.  

When he got down to the main street, he took a stroll, until he reached the bus stop at the corner.

There was a 7/11 convenience store just at the edge.

People moved behind him on the bench as he waited for his bus.

It would be there in thirty.

He'd missed the one that had left just minutes ago.

He sighed, opening up his cell-phone to scroll through his social media.

There was a new book out by his favorite author and some updates from his pathfinder group... he'd never met them online though... they'd only played in person with most of them located in the USA's Midwest and not New York like him.

They'd been a time when he had generally believed that they would be able to afford to see each other and spend some time together, he an actual physical group but those were dreams lost to the years and everyone was comfortable with only being sort of friends virtually.

Leroy guessed it worked for him too but he craved one.

He wanted friends... real in-person ones.

That was why the whole situation with Zachary has been disappointing.

Working from home on some days, not getting along with his coworkers on a personal basis and just generally having little to no social or dating life were starting to claw at him.

There had been a brief time Leroy had considered dating apps but he'd decided he didn't have much confidence to do that.

He wasn't very tall and he lived with a parent and sibling, plus, it wasn't like he could afford to take a girl out every other week and gosh, what would they think of the fact that he didn't drive?

Telling them he had a license but didn't use it wasn't going to cut it.

His thoughts went back to Zachary again and the way the man smiled at him warmly whenever he'd come over for the cats before he would look away, not saying anything. 

Leroy thought about it for a while, deciding that he couldn't exactly read Zachary's distance as a rejection.

The man seemed to like him being around.

He was probably just shy and wasn't sure what to do or how to go about things. 

'Just like me,' Leroy thought to himself, biting down on his bottom lip, as his gaze drifted from his phone to the busy street.

Yes, they were similar and both equally socially awkward.

Well, Leroy could tell that much from his first few interactions with the older man.

On top of that Leroy couldn't imagine how isolating being in Zachary's position was.

He'd sounded really lonely.

In fact, the man might just be as frustrated as Leroy was.

The young man blinked a few times before looking down at his phone.

He still had a few minutes before his bus got there, so he got up, spontaneously deciding that he would go to the 7/11 to grab a few sandwiches.  

He just hoped Zachary didn't have any food allergies because he was going to offer the man some.  

Leroy had decided that he would start a conversation today, no matter what it took... even cheap convenience store sandwiches as a bribe.

[memidgenotsofteroreasier]

A glitch

It volunteer, but arrived an hour late because I had been packing to go camping after my shift. A Karen didn't want me anywhere near her and faulted every last thing I tried to do. I left. The rest of the team is more balanced. I have been listening to the news and it is not good. Israelis and Palestinians, Republicans and Democrats, Law and disorder. Nevertheless, I had a chance to reboot and get my sort on with the papers. This is what I do. Go set up for one night, read and sort, and purge papers, pack up and return with almost as much, but a sense that I have made progress. It's a good goal.

I had agreed to this day for a my phone therapy session. I was about 10 minutes early and planned to stay by the entrance to use their hot spot. The day before, I went to the office and staff helped me with the app, so I was ready. When I presented my proof of insurance and car registration, they told me at the gate that the former wasn't there. After all the stress and rejection, I lost my shit and began slapping my head. This just made them (both Latino—irony--a couple of Latino Border Patrol Agents were walking about probing the weeds across the road for brown bodies). Abort mission to check in. Go to Plan B.

The call went through. To say I was upset would be an understatement. My purse has no tissue and my nose was dripping. She noticed! I used my sleeve after pulling a receipt out of my purse and trying to use that. You may think it's mucus, but it's snot. At 10 minutes in, the call dropped. Because the app was still open, I couldn't answer any calls. It was somewhat of a relief to be done. Poor little white girl. I'm upset about what I hear on the news on NPR, which tells me I should listen to classical music.

Israelis want aid organizations to repack loads onto pallets approved by them, then when they don't make it to the border, they have to come back and return everything to the warehouse. All their effort wasted while people die! And I'm powerless.

The solution proposed by the gate staff was to download an app from GEICO, which they (and I) tried. No soap. It was at 75% of complete when I gave up. I went back to my car and looked, and lo, there was the proof of insurance. So I drove back to the gate and told the guy to read it and weep. They asked for my driver's license, which I produced, and I was allowed in. But now I'm marked. If I see them again, they may have a grudge against me.

At my site I was unloading the car and up drives a Sheriff. He asks how I am and I tell him I've been better. I don't get out as often as I used to and it's getting harder to achieve. It's one of my dreams to camp and get organized. Death like an overflowing stream of paper!

I did have a moment of clarity that I could have been spending a very different time in a camp (with bars)! The peace was disturbed. But in my book, if people aren't alarmed by what is going on, they lack compassion. I put that in a note I handed off on my way out the gate.

A further complication: a 9a.m. Saturday meeting was planned, so I packed everything up early and arrived at the hot spot to check email a quarter past to find out it was postponed a week. The very good news: I banked 10 hours of sleep. Next time I'll position the tent differently because nights are turning cold and a heater is needed.

[scribblelegs]

Sorry this is so long but I am really upset rn and the interaction I had just now with some random photographer on Facebook stirred up a lot of emotions from my past. If you have a minute please read this and let me know what you think. Am I wrong? And am I crazy? For thinking the following:

Hey, do you guys think it’s unprofessional when a guy messages you on Facebook and says he’s a proFessional photographer and wants to work with you because you’re a SWer? (I think we all know what kind of intentions someone has when they seek people out like me or my pals & claim they want to work w you) whether it is n000d or not- I don’t want anyone taking my picture that I am not comfortable with

Doesn’t that come off kind of predatory to you? Or like they just want to see you n000d? 

Am I being harsh and thinking that it is unprofessional for someone to go about this if they own a business? Even if it is a business that’s been around for a long time, even if it is a reputable place. Which I have no idea if it is, is this a good way to go about getting clients?

If you pull in clients and you’re just messaging girls on the Internet that look like me based off the way I look how do you think that makes me feel?

When I was 18 years old I really wanted to be a

su!c!de girl. I honestly wanted to be a dancer but my family stopped me from feeling I could ever do that, I deeply regret that now. Anyway. I am I was working at a tattoo shop and professionally tattooing, a kid from high school instant messaged me on a AIM saying he knew a photographer.

And since I knew this kid I felt comfortable, so this kid goes on to say look at these pictures this guy took of this girl we went to school with. And they were beautiful, she was in a bathtub with Rose petals covering all of her body you know. Pretty tasteful and artfull looking for the time for me.

The girl did not look familiar To me, and the image could’ve very well have been stolen and this could’ve just been some scheme or plot these two cooked up? I don’t know if I’ll ever know and I don’t know if I care anymore

So I was like that’s awesome what a great opportunity, because the kid also mentioned that he pays these people up to 1 0 0 to take these photos.

So he got me in touch with the photographer, and the photographer asked me to take a few pictures for him to see basically if I met his standards.

And at the time I was still paying for my apprenticeship and working in the shop so I was so desperate for money that I was starving and could barely make ends meet. I didn’t have a car because I wrecked it and I lost my license for driving without insurance. I didn’t go to college and my family was disappointed in me so I chose to learn how to tattoo and everything sort of hit the fan around this time.

So the pictures he had me take first for just in a bikini.

And then he asked if I was comfortable enough to remove my top, and take a picture for him. And at this point in my life I have never done something like that for anyone and I wouldn’t have thought to do that for anyone. Not even my boyfriends. I was a totally different person when I was 18, and I was also a virgin until I was 18 so you can imagine that I was freaking out when he asked me to do this

So I did it, and I sent the picture. Front facing, arms to my side, t0pless, with a self time digital camera in my moms bathroom.. I snapped two pictures for this local stranger on the Internet

Sent through my Yahoo account too,

which I have since logged back into but none of my emails arent there now.

I think this was around 2007 or 2008, so I had just graduated high school about six months prior to this. I had already gotten in contact with su!c!d3 girls and was really excited but didn’t have a ride three hours south to get the pictures taken. Which would’ve been free by a female. But I have heard a lot of bad things about that site too so this time in the world was just not good for women who wanted to use their body to try to make ends meet

So after I sent the picture he replied back something like

“ i’m sorry but you’re just not what I’m looking for” 

So I mean as you can imagine I was devastated, and I was already suffering from a severe eating disorder that started at age 13 and didn’t until 22. So I thought that I was disgusting and something was wrong with me and why me why wouldn’t he pick me but he picked other girls that looked like me but. It made me feel so out of my body and mind, made me feel violated and uncomfortable and gross. I never forgot it. But I forgot who he was and for a long time I didn’t even think about this moment

So there’s a twist to the story and it’s stuck with me a long time.

I said I was working in a tattoo shop and I was working alongside one of my friends at the time and he said he met a photographer who was going to take pictures of his girlfriend and create a calendar. And he was really really excited for her and he was excited to see it and have something like that.

That’s when my heart dropped to my stomach as I tried to warn him about what I had just went through..

So he was going to tattoo this guy for the calendar for his girlfriend. And it was the same guy that I had this interaction with online, he came into the shop and he definitely knew who I was and wouldn’t stop staring at me.

he then got his tattoo I didn’t say as word I silently cried in the back room trying to draw and not panic.

And as soon as he left I tried to explain my tattoo Friend what happened and instead of being met with understanding and empathy or compassion at all he kind of just brushed it off. Almost like it was no big deal and he still went on to have the calendar made and yeah. It all felt really unfair and it all felt like a giant scheme for this kid in high school to see me in a vulnerable state.

So that is my experience with photographers who want to take my pictures and why I will never ever ever ever ever let anyone take my pictures unless it’s someone that I am paying and it’s probably a female who knows what she’s actually doing has a degree and a business. And proof to back it. But literally if you’re just some random guy on Facebook messaging people with experience in a business, I don’t trust you. Even if your intentions are not to photograph me completely n000d- I know what you’re doing and I see straight through you and stay the F away from me

[spacelascl]

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[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

#abner krill #polka dot man #the Suicide squad #abner krill x reader #polkadot man x reader #reader #therapy #chapter one

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 1 ~Stories She Wrote~

PICTURE SOURCE

PART 2 OF  WONDERWALL SERIES

Hey guys, I'm back and thrilled to give you part 2 of WONDERWALL series, Miles Between Us. It is a continuation from my holiday ficlet, All I Want For Christmas Is You. If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you do if you wish to get an insight into Jamie and Claire’s history (Here is the link) Otherwise, this ficlet can also be read as a stand-alone.

I know All I Want For Christmas Is You ending was bittersweet, but it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a Part 2 in this series. I had to leave the story open to possibilities if it is to have a chance of growing. And besides, making this into a series allows me to take breaks from writing and refresh my brain in-between ficlets. So I hope this next part of the story will make up for leaving you hanging all these weeks.

Anyway, before you continue, I'd like to thank you for reading, commenting and giving feedback to my stories. They're all very appreciated even if I sometimes don't comment back. As a hobby writer, I always look forward to your response, and they spur me to continue writing. Without the readers, I wouldn't be here. So thank you for being part of my writing journey.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

So now everything is said, without further ado, I wish you all happy reading. ❤️

 Previously ...

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Fraser met and fell in love during the Holiday Seasons. Unfortunately for their budding relationship, after two weeks of a whirlwind romance, Claire has to return to London to finish some work commitment that could take a year to fulfil. It doesn't help matters that Jamie's PTSD condition prevents him from visiting her as loud city noises can trigger panic attacks. They are both in love with each other and are willing to find out where their relationship will head to. But can they find a compromise to bridge the gap of hundreds of miles to give their love a chance?

    After sitting on her bed most of Saturday working on her laptop, Claire Beauchamp rolled her neck and stretched her back, her arms extending above her head. She flinched when her joints cracked. 

Over the past few days, her boss, John Grey, forwarded manuscripts and drafts from the author she was working with. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach was beginning to grumble, and her eyes blurry from reading.

She'd read so much in the past hours, she was practically cross-eyed, and the bridge of her nose hurt where her specs rested. Words upon words had sifted through her brain, but now the lines were beginning to blur together.

She glanced back down on her laptop and opened a file in her document folder, her eyes scanning through lines she knew by heart. She'd been going through her own work lately wondering if she had what it takes to be a writer. Someone who would give her an honest opinion ought to read it before contemplating getting herself a literary agent if she was to start a new chapter of her life and take that leap of faith in her dream career.

A sudden urgency took over, and she needed Annalise to read her work, like right now. Which reminded Claire, her friend was away with Willie, shopping and sight-seeing. He was staying over their place for the weekend for the first time since she and Annalise left Lallybroch. After declining their invitation to join them earlier, the loved-up couple left her to her work with the promise of dinner when they returned.

She was about to reach out for her cold coffee from the bedside table when Raiders of the Lost Ark's theme song blared from her phone. At the same time, a picture of her uncle Lamb appeared on the screen. He was wearing a high-crowned, wide-brimmed, weather-beaten fedora hat and had a lopsided grin plastered to his thickly stubbled face. Rugged, she thought, just like her favourite pair of distressed leather boots, and very Indiana Jones.

Smiling, she tapped the answer button and put the phone on speaker. "Uncle Lamb! Long time no speak!" 

"Sweetheart," he started in a deep familiar voice, "how are you?"

She frowned and pushed her laptop aside. Something was off. "Oh you know, same old ...just finishing work and ..." 

"On a Saturday?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled. "You're young. You should be out. There are so many things to do in London ...especially on a Saturday. "

Claire rolled her eyes but opted to change the subject instead. She wasn't ready to give her reason for working overtime nor share her future plans nor talk about the handsome Scot she met during her holidays. Not just yet, anyway. "So ...to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice, dear uncle?"

"What?" he said gruffly, pretending to sound offended. "Can't I call my favourite girl in the world and check up on her?" 

She mentally sighed. Something must be up since her uncle never called. It was always she who usually phoned, and when he did call on a rare occasion, it was either because something had happened or he was in London. She dismissed the latter since she knew he was in Papua New Guinea. The next conclusion she landed on was his health but thought it absurd. Her uncle was strong as an ox, ate healthily, only smoked the occasional cigar and regularly went for doctor's check-up, a requirement in his job as an archaeologist travelling to remote places.

Unless. "You sound suspiciously chipper. Let me guess ...you met someone. There's a woman in your life." 

He coughed like he was choking on a drink. "No! Why would you say that?" 

Alright, he sounded repulsed by the idea enough. Or was that denial? "I don't know. You seem so ...how shall I say it ...unlike yourself. You normally skip the niceties and get to the point." 

He lets out an impatient breath. "Claire, darling, am I really that awful?"

"No," she replied, ignoring the ache in her throat. She missed their time together but tried not to make it apparent in her tone. He was a busy man, and the last thing she wanted was her uncle worrying. "You don't seem like you're rushing off to anywhere. It's rare you sound this relax."

"It's way past my bedtime already," he sighed. "And besides, work is on stand-by at the moment until we get the license to start digging on site. People here are so damn laid back, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to process the paperwork. I'm not about to hand out cash to speed things along even if bribery is rampant here."

"I see. So you're in Port Moresby then?"

"Yes. As soon as we have the license sorted out, we'll be flying to Lae first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of paperwork, I received an email from my lawyer. Your trust fund has matured, dear. I'll send you the details where to go to and who to contact, and maybe you can start planning your life. Perhaps take a sabbatical and travel with me if you wish."

Ah yes, the trust fund. 

After her parents died, everything they had owned was put into her trust fund by her uncle to secure her future. She'd already received a small lump sum when she turned eighteen, and the money had afforded her, though small and cramped, a decent rental two-bedroom apartment in London with high windows, which was premium in this expensive city. And Annalise, her best friend and roommate made enough money to help pay the ridiculous expensive utility bills. Her own wage just about covered the other expenses with almost nought left for savings, but she hadn't worried knowing there was money in place in her name. She was counting on it to support herself when she pursued her dreams of writing.

"About that, I think I'll let that sit in the bank for a while. It's not like I need the money right now, nor do I have the time to spend it."

"As you wish," her uncle replied. "And another thing I need to discuss with you ...South Lodge ..."

"What about South Lodge?" South Lodge should have been her family home if her parents hadn't died, and she knew it was a highly coveted property because of its historical significance. It was never put into the market for sale since her uncle thought it wasn't his place to decide. It was put on a twenty-year lease to a high profile politician, its payments going towards her trust fund.

"The lease is up, and the occupants will be moving out soon. Unfortunately for you, that information made it to the local news and you were mentioned as the legatee. So don't be surprised if you're bombarded with offers now that your name is out. I'm willing to bet, property investors and developers will be itching to get their hands on it."

Claire took off her specs and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hated adulting, paperwork and dealings with lawyers. Maybe she should just sell South Lodge and be done with it, so she could concentrate on her future plans. What do I need a five-bedroom house with one acre of garden in Oxford for? "I'll think about it, uncle. I just have a lot of things going on at the moment. I'm quite sure those things can wait."

"Of course dear."

"Thank you for letting me know." She thought of Jamie, and the Highlands and how much life was a lot simpler there. She really needed to double her effort to tie up loose ends in London and have a heart to heart talk with Annalise. Is her relationship with Willie serious? If not, her friend would have to eventually find a new roommate. After quickly glancing at her bedside clock, she realised they would be here soon and hopefully with a takeaway. Annalise did mention something about sorting dinner out tonight.

"And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Your upbringing hasn't been the most ideal. Enjoy the money and treat yourself. Don't spend your life doing things that don't bring you joy."

She smiled. Her uncle must have had a rude awakening of some sort to sound so philosophical. Or probably, he did meet someone special. Either way, she wasn't going to push for any answers for now. She really needed to get out of bed, do a few stretches and have a shower before Annalise, and Willie arrived. "I'll try," she finally said.

"Good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."

"Sadly, yes." She shut her laptop and got out of bed. "Take care of yourself, alright? And I'll phone you sometime next week after I've figured out our time differences." 

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Talk soon." 

"Love you, uncle Lamb." 

"Love you, too." 

She terminated the call with a swipe on her screen and rubbed her eyes. She'd been working for seven hours straight, and her eyeballs felt like they're made of sandpaper. Glancing at the corner table, she smiled when she saw Jamie's gifts. Willie had brought them with him when he arrived last night from Inverness. She knew Jamie was making up for his absence, but it couldn't be helped when there's the danger of his PTSD condition worsening in the city. To her delight and surprise, he'd sent her a leather-bound journal, a framed selfie photo of them together, driftwood bookends he made and a box of her favourite Lindt chocolate.

With a contented sigh, she made a mental note to call Jamie after dinner. And to ask her boss first thing Monday morning if she could take her work to Scotland the following weekend to surprise her boyfriend. After all, she was just taking her uncle's advice, and after the work, she'd put in the last couple of weeks, and the extra hours she planned to do the next few days, she deserved a little joy in her life.

..........

Claire leaned forward, and nervously examined her best friend's face. Annalise was hunched down, scrolling her laptop, tongue darting out as she read the paragraphs on the screen. 

What's that look for? Doesn't she like it? She couldn't tell. It was the first time she's showing her work to anyone, one of the stories she had written during her spare time before embarking a career as an editorial assistant for Dreamcatcher Publishing Company. She needed to hear her friend's opinion to know if she even had a small chance of becoming a writer.

Annalise took her sweet time, and Claire wasn't sure if her inscrutable expression was a deliberate act to prolong the suspense, or if she genuinely had no reaction to what she's reading. If it was the latter, Claire would definitely kiss her dream of being a writer goodbye. If it's the former, she's going to strangle her friend for making her suffer. 

She heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sound of keys jangling and heavy footfalls, announcing the arrival of Willie. He'd stopped by to order some food at a local Indian takeaway while Annalise headed straight home to prepare the table for dinner. Instead of calling out to him, she held her breath for Annalise's response. 

Just when Claire was starting to accept her hope of being a writer would never amount to anything other than a pipe dream, she saw the reaction she impatiently waited for. Annalise's mouth formed a comical O, followed by her eyes' widening and random shallow sighs. 

Yessssssss! 

This was massive. Despite Annalise having seen works from established authors Claire had edited for, she'd never witnessed her friend looked this excited. Annalise simply couldn't hide her gobsmacked expression, even if she tried.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered, her gaze flicking to Claire and then back to the screen. "Why didn't you tell me you had this? I knew you wanted to be a writer, but this ..."

"So?" 

Annalise took a massive deep breath, her fingers almost shaking. "Oh my God, Claire." 

"Oh my God, wot? Oh my God good or oh my God, bad?" Claire asked, even though she already knew deep in her bones, what the answer was. But she desperately needed to hear the words.

"This is bloody good," she said, as she went back to a previous page, and reread it all over again. After a couple of minutes more, a slow smile started to spread across her face, as she stole a few cheeky glances over at Claire.

Claire knew she could rely on her friend to tell her the truth. If her work had been bad, friend or not, Annalise would have been forthright and told her the hard facts. Nevertheless, she tamped down her own growing excitement. "The question is though ...is it good enough for the mass?" 

Without hesitation, Annalise nodded vigorously, her blue eyes big as saucers. "Oh, Claire, are you kidding me? You really have no idea, have you? Of course, it is! I need to read the rest. Please tell me it's finished." 

Claire relaxed for the first time and slumped back against the headboard of her bed, relief soothing her wild heartbeat. "It's finished."

Annalise let out a whoop as she gripped the laptop tightly. "Oh my God! Give me everything ...I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't read at least one more chapter of this story." 

"I've got ten more finished materials."

"Oh my God, oh my God! You're killing me. I want it all."

Willie poked his head by the frame of the doorway to her bedroom and eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure what he expected to find, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Annalise's flushed face. 

"What are ye both up to?" he asked, frowning. "Ye sound like ye're looking at porn on the internet." 

Annalise grinned and motioned him over. "Sort of." 

Willie hesitantly entered the room. "Sorry?"

"In actual fact, much better than porn ..." Annalise announced, smirking at Claire.

"Annalise!" Claire wheezed when it dawned on her, her friend must have been reading the sex scene part.

Annalise reached out and reassuringly squeezed Claire's hand whilst looking at Willie. "Take a look at this. Claire wrote it."

Annalise handed the laptop to Willie, and both of them earnestly watched his face to gauge his reaction. As he sat down on the edge of the bed and read, Claire knew he would be the real test. Willie being a bloke, she didn't expect him to have the same reaction as Annalise, but she hoped he would appreciate the storyline and plot. Claire already understood, if her story was going to be good enough to be published, its success would be based on women's purchasing power. If he liked her style of writing even a smidgen, then she would be laughing. 

Claire held her breath in anxious anticipation, and approximately a minute and a half later, she got her response. 

His eyes bulged out, and then the tips of his ears glowed with red. In all sort of ways, he was so similar to Jamie but yet so different. But there's no mistaking how vibrantly their ears always lit up when they're embarrassed. Or moved. 

"Kind of explicit," he commented hoarsely, before tucking a tongue into his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. "But it is an intriguing story with great flow and interesting characters. It's no' the genre I would typically read, but the first few paragraphs of what I've seen so far are riveting. It makes me want to read more."

Annalise, enthusiastically nodded in agreement and waved a hand in the air. "There it is." 

"Ye have a gift, Claire," Willie added, eyes still fixed on the screen and working overtime as his focus became more intense. "The dose of mystery ye've woven into the lines is remarkable and intelligent."

She felt herself beaming in vindication. "Thank you." 

He briefly glanced up at her. "Now that I remember, Jamie did vaguely mention ye wanted to be a writer."

"That's the plan," she beamed.

"Good. Because if ye can produce something like this, then yer talent is wasted on editing other people's work."

"She's got ten more finished stories," Annalise piped in.

Willie arched an eyebrow at Claire and continued reading, and when he finished, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Is Jamie the inspiration for this story?"

Her face heated. "I ...ah ...wrote that years ago. And ...um, I've revised and edited it a million times in the past. I wanted Annalise to read it first and find out if it's good enough to be published."

Annalise grinned at Willie, still looking a little flush like she was having a physical reaction to the few lines she'd read earlier. "So what do you think?"

Willie didn't miss Annalise's excited reaction to the story. "It's verra good but I didnae realised graphic scenes affected ye so much. Ye're beet red!" 

"Only when it's very well written," Annalise smirked, taking the laptop from his hands and moving towards him to sit on his lap. 

Willie pulled Annalise closer and kissed her, and Claire sighed. It's both beautiful and terrible being in the presence of people, so in love. While she's ecstatic to see her best friend smitten and happy, it made her sad that Jamie couldn't be here with her. She missed him terribly, and it's only been a fortnight since she had last seen him.

After a few seconds of watching them unashamedly snogged in front of her, Claire clapped her hands, and they both immediately pulled away. "Right, that's enough you two. So, where's the dinner I was promised?"

Suddenly looking self-conscious, Willie promptly lifted Annalise from his lap, plonked her down onto the bed and jumped up, and Claire couldn't help but grin at him.

"Right on it," he muttered, before disappearing from her bedroom.

Annalise laughed and playfully shoved her shoulder. "Passion killer."

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved. 

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too. Who knew, maybe, after reading it, he would be as fired up as Willie and Annalise. 

After hearing the whoosh of the email sent, Claire launched herself off the bed to join her friends, looking forward to Jamie's reaction later and daydreaming of a future in Scotland with her love.

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

[teaprose]

cw: anxiety, depression, medication, crappy therapists

I don’t know why I’m writing all this. Perhaps as a bit of a journaling device. This has been a difficult few months for me and due to the situation described below I really haven’t had anyone to talk to about it.

Tl/dr; Don’t suffer in silence. If you are on the same medication for years with no progress: it’s time to change up the medication. And also, you may have multiple therapists that just aren’t the right fit. Don’t be afraid to say so and get a new one.

Just started a new type of anti-depressant. I had been on my last one for over two years with varying doses. I have no idea if this one will work, I only just started it, but at least it’s something new.

Currently having the lovely side effects of extreme drowsiness and dry mouth. Gross.

Anyway... why am I telling you this?

Because please, please, don’t suffer in silence.

I was on my previous medication for over TWO. YEARS. while also going to therapy for the last four. My first therapist I saw for about two years for my anxiety and depression and she was a complete waste of time. She spent more time telling me about her adopted son and his issues than my own. I had never been in therapy before and didn’t realize how wrong this was. I was paying her weekly to help me through trauma and instead I would leave barely getting a word in with no actual treatment plan in place.

My second therapist, we’ll get to in a bit....

The point is... If you’re not seeing improvement after being on a medication for over two years it’s time to try something new. If your therapist isn’t working with your best interests at heart, get a new therapist.

Now medication: Every brain works differently. For some Lexapro will work, for others Prozac, for someone else something else. And then there are the doses! You get 5mg, you get 10mg, we’ll start with 5 and make our way up to 20!

Medication is not one size fits all.

Anyway, since last year I had been trying to get in to see a psychiatrist with the help of my therapist. My medical doctor can only prescribe anxiety and anti-depressant medication up to a certain dosage. For anything else you need to see a psychiatrist. Well, great! So let’s set up an appointment with the clinic psychiatrist. Easy peasy.

That was almost a year ago. Therapist kept saying “oh yeah, I’ll reach out to them” over and over and over. I should have spoken up then. After all, it took me months to get the results of my ADHD and BPD assessments back and she admitted she hadn’t sent them to her supervisor in a timely manner. 

(P.S. Assessments are meant to be done with 0 bias. They should not be completed by your main practioner except in extreme cases. My case is that she was the only one licensed to perform these specific assessments at the clinic and it got approved by her clinic supervisor).

Then, in May, roughly eight months since suggesting I see a psychiatrist and that she’d get me an appointment... my therapist ghosted me.

But me, being me, and my mental health, being it, just stayed silent. She said she was going through some things, including a family death, and she needed to take a month off.

Okay. A month. I could go a month without therapy. And so there I sat a month later waiting for her text or her call or her email. Well... one month became two. And then three. And now almost four. I eventually reached out at the end of month three and asked if I’d be seeing her again. She said she was on sabbatical. 

She said I could no longer meet with the psychiatrist on staff because I was not actively being seen by someone at the clinic. 

She said she’d get me reassigned to a new therapist. That was a month ago. I never heard from her again or anyone at the clinic.

Based on previous experiences I doubt she ever reached out to them.

So.

I lost my chance to see a psychiatrist and be put on proper medication because my therapist “went on sabbatical” and didn’t think to reach out to her clients and get them reassigned. And I didn’t reach out because I didn’t want to be a bother. Because my therapist was going through something and I didn’t want to make things more difficult for her.

I have my MSW. I know that you don’t go into therapy without a reason. But when that reason starts to interfere with your therapeutic work you are supposed to have the training and the supervision to help you. Your personal issues should never effect your clients who are already going through their own personal issues. Issues they are trusting (and paying) you to guide them through.

Now to the good news!

Fortunately my husband is also in therapy and he mentioned to his therapist how I hadn’t been to therapy in about four months. (She works in the same office).

I ended up meeting with her twice and within two weeks I had 

a psychiatrist appointment lined up (I met with her this past Saturday)

a new therapist whom I will meet tomorrow

And when I met with my husband’s therapist she told me that there is no need to suffer in silence. I had come to the clinic looking for help and been abandoned. And to have been left on the same medication for over two years when it obviously wasn’t doing anything, was just taking time away from trying something new where I could have been getting better.

I know, I KNOW, how hard it is to find your voice in moments like this. We don’t want to be a bother. We don’t want to cause trouble. We don’t know if they’ll believe us when we’re hurting. We don’t want to hurt their feelings if we want a different therapist. There are so many reasons we don’t speak up.

But please.

Don’t suffer in silence.

Find your voice and advocate for yourself.

You are worth it.

#tea text #please don't reblog #maybe i'll write something more rebloggable if people are interested #anxiety cw #depression cw #medication cw #therapy cw

[ohdaim]

april fool's day oneshot

hi guys, i wrote this today in one sitting, and it's lazily edited:) i'm recovering from an oral surgery and on strong medication, so i hope this makes as much sense as i think it does.

Ship: Ignis Scientia/female reader Summary: You are a Citadel valet working the night shift, frequently attending to Ignis' car. You have no idea how to talk to him. He has no idea how to ask for your number. Words: 1849 idk if this is considered fluff or just mutual pining but with like,, idiots

__

Stir together bread crumbs, garlic, parsley…

You scanned the rest of the newest recipe on your favorite cooking blog, Feeding The Fussy. As always, it looked delicious. As always, you rated it five stars and typed out a comment.

I followed the recipe exactly, but I left out the bread crumbs and cheese. I used shrimp and bacon grease instead. Terrible recipe. Won’t make again.

Putting your phone away, you came to attention when someone stepped out of a Citadel elevator across the lobby. You worked night shift as a palace valet and hardly saw anyone but for a few regular night owls. One of them approached now, and gods, you were nervous all of a sudden.

Ignis was your favorite regular. He was polite, tipped well, and made small talk so you wouldn't have to. You didn’t know what he did in the Citadel or why he so often left at four in the morning. You just knew you had a big crush on him and, for that reason, could never carry a full conversation without getting sweaty palms.

“Good morning.” He greeted you first. “Quiet night?”

You nodded, entering the info you needed to check his vehicle out of the system. You wanted to say something, anything. Nerves got the best of you, and you excused yourself into the back room to get his car keys. On your way out, you held them up. “I’ll have your car here momentarily.”

Ignis didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at you. His attention was on his phone, a corner of his mouth curled upward.

You paused, taking in the smirk with shy curiosity. That was a new look. What was he smirking at? When he seemed to remember himself, he schooled the look and met your eyes. Startling, you repeated yourself quietly and went through the doors leading to the parking garage.

Ignis’ car consistently smelled like coffee wrapped in leather. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you buckled in. Because you wanted to linger in the nice scent--was this extremely weird? Yes, of course--you checked to see what the buzzing was about.

An email. You’d gotten a reply from the Feeding The Fussy chef. They’d liked your comments in the past but hadn’t addressed your obvious jokes. You stared at the subject line for a beat, then opened the message.

Thank you for the review. Almost as insightful as last week’s eight hundred word description of your current diet and how my recipes conflict. Do you have any suggestions on how to improve this one?

Your nervousness grew so heavy, it burst in bright red over your face, a flame in your chest. The chef was talking to you. You’d chalked it up to luck that they understood your sense of humor and the intent of your comments. Never had you thought they’d give more than a like. You typed a response before getting back to work.

Pro tip: Using a microwave is faster than the oven. Also, I’ve begun a new diet (details to follow), so is there any way to make this recipe without the ingredients?

Ignis’ car was fancy but less so than most others in the garage. You always felt a pinch of regret when pulling it up to the lobby entrance. Driving a car like his just to see how fast it could go, it wasn’t something you’d ever get to do. You didn’t own one yourself, and truthfully, you'd only gotten a driving license to be qualified for this job. Getting out, you waved at Ignis and extended an arm toward the open driver’s seat.

Tip passing from his hand to your own, you bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. He thanked you, getting into his car. You waited for him to drive away, likely the last person you’d see this shift.

“Ah, pardon me,” Ignis startled you by climbing back out, the car door hanging open. He held something out to you. “I believe you dropped this.”

You looked at your phone in his hand, your eyes wide, nervousness becoming embarrassment. Quickly grabbing it, you bowed again. “Sorry.”

Ignis chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Good thing I noticed when I did.”

Nodding emphatically, you wished he’d just go before you humiliated yourself further.

Clearly not reading your mind, he lingered a moment longer. “In truth, I--”

“Have a good day, sir.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him and hadn’t expected him to say more.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Same to you.” Thanking you again, by name this time, he left.

Back in the quiet lobby, you put his tip with the rest you’d made that night. You sat behind the desk and buried your face in your hands. The sting of feeling stupid in front of Ignis was abated by the underlying excitement that came from talking to the chef you admired.

They specialized in meals for picky eaters, which you were. They used clear directions, so they could be followed by an amateur chef, which you really were. They sometimes added personal anecdotes spiced with sarcasm and dry jokes to the recipe’s background, which made you feel safe to comment. You refrained from checking your inbox, content to wait until you were home to see if they’d replied yet.

Two attendants arrived for the day shift, and as you hitched the strap of your bag over a shoulder, readying to leave, one of them told you to wait.

“You should pick up a new nametag before your next shift.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you remembered you’d lost yours several days ago. “Oh, right. I will.”

You stepped into an elevator, pressing the button for the metro station level. New nametag. Dumb. You had your work badge but still required a tag. How else would the Citadel inhabitants know who to thank for fetching their expensive cars? You rolled your eyes at the thought, already annoyed. You’d have to come to work early to pick it up. Was it too soon to quit and attend culinary school? You needed to make a bit more money first. Ignis tipped large bills, but still, it’d take years of picking his car up every morning before you could afford tuition.

Grinning to yourself, you weaved through the incoming morning crowds and boarded a train home. It had felt nice, hearing Ignis say your name on his way out. He was the only person who ever addressed you, so maybe getting a new tag was worth it for that alone. Ignis was just-- He truly-- You really liked when he came down, that was all.

It didn’t strike you for another several hours, as you filled out the online request for a new Citadel employee nametag, that Ignis must’ve remembered your name. You supposed a great memory was probably just another part of his polite demeanor. That’s what you told yourself, at least, to keep your crush from growing. You didn’t even know the man.

You attempted the chef’s latest recipe, and as it cooled, you--very casually and not nervously at all--checked to see if they’d replied.

I’ll keep that tip in mind. As for your question, I recommend the following replacement recipe: brew a cup of coffee or tea, sit somewhere comfortable, and enjoy the beverage knowing your comments haunt me whenever I cook.

You read and reread the message, then laughed into a hand. Worth the wait. You ate a bite directly from the dish on your counter, huffing through the fresh heat with mild regret. They deserved a genuine review after such honesty, but it seemed you were doing little more than burning the roof of your mouth. So you took a picture of the food, offering a thumbs up with one hand in frame, and sent it as a reply.

The next night you worked, Ignis arrived much earlier than expected--before midnight, no less. He was coming in rather than going out. Another man was with him, someone blonde and unfamiliar. Ignis opened the back to retrieve something, turning you down when you offered to get it for him. The blonde man, his smile sincere but awkward, complimented your shoes.

“Thanks.” You didn’t really know what to say. People chatting with you was uncommon.

“They match your uniform’s tie… thing.” The blonde man was red in the face. Someone needed to tell him he didn’t have to make small talk. You were just a valet. He persisted, his smile broad. “It’s nice, y’know. You’re, like, coordinated and stuff.”

“Prompto.” Ignis closed the back and proffered a piece of luggage toward the other man. “Leave her be.” When the man took the bag from him, Ignis gave you the car keys. “I apologize for my friend. He can’t contain himself around beautiful women. Add inebriation, and he’s a lost cause.”

You gripped the keys tightly, taking in everything with a slow nod. Yes, of course, right. All of that made sense. Ignis was bringing a drunk friend into the palace. Normal Ignis stuff.

“Do you think Cor’s gonna be mad at me?” the blonde asked Ignis, walking backwards from the car toward the lobby doors. “Iggy, what if Cor gets mad at me?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, a hand checking his inner jacket. “A tad late to worry about that. Go directly to the barracks and try to sleep it off.”

“Where are the barracks again?”

Ignis’ chest broadened with a sigh, and he left the guy hanging. Withdrawing a money clip, he held it out to you. “For your trouble.”

You hesitated taking it. The outer bill appeared to be 1,000 yen, and it was several notes thick… More than the usual tip. You took it slowly, fingertips brushing his leather covered palm, and murmured a quiet thanks.

Ignis remained, his hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn’t as put together as you were used to. Your eyes trailed downward, now noticing the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Huh.

He cleared his throat and began, “There’s something I--”

“C’mon, Iggy!” The blonde man held one of the entrance doors wide open. “If I knew Cor was gonna be mad anyway, I would’ve stayed at Noct’s.”

Ignis gave you a hasty farewell, already walking away to push the blonde man through the door. They disappeared inside, leaving an awkward wake of silence. You settled into Ignis’ coffee-and-leather scented car, a realization hitting you late, as they tended to do. Had Ignis implied you were beautiful? You didn’t entertain the thought for long. Ignis was a professional, royal something-or-other. He would never. You were reading too much into it. Surely.

On the walk from Ignis’ parking spot back to the lobby, you checked for the latest message from the chef. You’d boldly given them your number in a DM when the comment thread became unbearably long. You hadn’t held out hope of receiving a message and read their initial text at least ten times in disbelief before responding and saving the number.

Was this a new friendship? You hoped so.

#ignis scientia/reader #ignis scientia #ffxv fanfiction #daim writes #lmao do recipe sites even have direct messaging idk #this thing doesn't have a title #it was supposed to be about a prank but i am in fact the fool #anyway i love you guys please take this #i'm going to rest now aaaaaaaaaaaa

[intersex-ionality]

lol 8tracks died the moment they made their platform harder to use for anybody outside the US or Canada.

I mean yes. Yes it did.

It began hemorraghing users, and revenue. Combined with the refusal to get a decent legal adviser on the team and begin adequate licensing negotiations for their North American users either, this was always a matter of time.

The thing is, the way it’s happening in a disgusting mess. A travesty. They’ve given just enough time (a single holiday weekend, when most people will have plans they cannot change, obligations they cannot skip, questionable or no internet access, and a general inability to recover any of this content), that they can say “well, we didn’t close without warning. We warned everyone.”

Except, first of all, a great many people still have not gotten their emails. They were still accepting subscription payments after the closure announcement. They are still allowing uploads right now, with a scant 24 hours until shutdown. Bot crawling to discover the scale of the archival task--not even to begin it, but to figure out how much time and resources it would take--has been destroyed. The export tools don’t work properly, and certainly not for the scale of the task. Even when they do work, the export tools fail to actually export relevant information, such as--for example--the notes and tags on tracklistings that actually explain what the theme and intention of the playlist was. There are, as I keep mentioning, quite literally thousands of original tracks uploaded to 8tracks by fan artists who have since closed shop and deleted their own archives, meaning those tracks exist only on 8tracks, and there is no way to to get copies of them. Not even if you were the original uploader. There are images, illustrations, and entire fictions written in notes and cover art that exist only on 8tracks and nowhere else, and there’s no way to save those things, except to manually copy paste them yourself.

8tracks has made backing up this unique content that does not exist anywhere else impossible, as in genuinely it cannot be done. As in, even the web archive group, the people who run the wayback machine, don’t know what to do.

This is a massive fucking catastrophe, and I think a lot of people don’t understand the scale of the issue.

Because people see a website that lost most of its users in like 2015, and think, “oh well, nothing much there. Just some lists of songs that I can listen to elsewhere.”

But no.

There’s art, fiction, music that is unique to 8tracks, and not only is there not enough time to save it.

There’s not even enough time to find out how much there is that needs to be saved.

It’s easy to look at this closure and laugh it off, especially if you never used 8tracks yourself, but it’s not a small thing.

This is catastrophic destruction of such a massive amount of art that we literally do not and cannot know how much we’re losing.

And it’s all just being treated as a joke.

This is destruction on a scale that not only is not being recognized by the people making light of it, but that we literally cannot calculate because we’ve been denied the tools to do so.

#8tracks #Anonymous

[lightsintheskye]

Ahhh I have a lot of messages in my inbox right now (over like ...2000; ) but this one just jumped out at me from yesterday and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m sorry if this is a long long response (l’ll screenshot it as a textpost so it doesn’t clog someones feed) but I just, with how hypercritical social media makes us about ourselves and others its important to acknowledge bullying and how exposed we are to it. If anyone reading this is also struggling with this topic right now please read below. Remember I’m not a licensed therapist but I’ve had a lot of experience with bullying so read below if you like-

For the most part, the big two are finding a positive support network and focusing on things that make me happy. I’m not unscathed, I have clinically diagnosed MDD, Anxiety, and PSTD, but I’ve learned to manage these things. If you need to take a break from social media, do it- do your best to be your own curator of positivity. If social media is one of your few solaces, create a special account for yourself that just follows what you love. Remember that YOU are the one in control of your social media feed and are responsible for what you see.

1. Support Network:

Find a group that you can trust, and do you best to talk about your feelings and experiences in a constructive way(see no 5). That being said respect your support network, always ask if it’s ok to vent to them and don’t treat others as emotional dumping grounds. I know trusting people is incredibly hard, I still struggle with it (my own support network is literally two people but I also practice a lot of behavioral therapy since a lot of medications unfortunately don’t work for me) but you can not go through life second guessing every action (fuck you, anxiety). If your situation is such that you don’t think you have friends you can talk to, your college might have a therapist you can talk to for free. There are also online sites and hotlines that offer the same free services. Sometimes it takes a few therapists to find one that works for you, but sometimes its easier to talk to a friend rather a stranger- and therapy might not always be available to everyone. Google is your friend for finding constructive options.I know it’s hypocritical since this is a tumblr post, but do research on your own from reputable sites and sources for healthy coping.

2. Don’t bottle it up: I used to be incredibly quiet about any sort of stress or bullying I received in the past. I used to lie about never being bullied or harassed after middle school, but the only person that ended up hurting is myself. I don’t think I’ll ever be perfectly fine, but talking about it helps more than you think. I’m not saying to blast it out to everyone exactly how you’re feeling 24/7 but take time to trade woes with a close friend every week or so. Just don’t forget to celebrate the good when and where you can- this world has so much that makes it suck, but there’s also a lot that we can enjoy- too.

3. Bullies seriously suck, but don’t become one:

In my experience, very few bullies ‘grow up’ if they’re still bullying people in college, they just kinda get better at hiding it. This usually manifests behind passive aggressive comments, and or just talking behind someones back and hiding behind a screen to say things. Even in grad school I’ve witnessed "adults” being shitty to each other twitter, on insta, on discord, on tumblr, on A03- you name it. Bullies can come from anywhere, and be anyone, and bully for any reason. People who were bullied sometimes become bullies themselves in a way to gain back sense of power- but their own abuse doesn’t make abusing others right. In the past I’ve had comments and emails telling me everything from childish bullying to literally telling me to kill myself. Negative comments about my appearance, the way I talk, the way I draw, my hobbies,my choice of schooling (which ??????),  harassment about my choice of friends and the people I associate myself with. People who seek negativity will find any reason to slight another. But know that harassment is harassment regardless of why, so even if you’re angry bullying someone back really wont change much. I can think of nothing more toxic than willingly engaging with your bullies in order to find ways to ‘get back’ at them. The beauty of being online is that you can just leave a site, hit a block button, and even make a new name for yourself. Do your best to limit interaction with them. Do not put yourself in situations that involve them. Do not cyber stalk them (yes, repeatedly checking their tumblr/fb/instagram to criticize and mock their every post, or find every person they talk to “whistle-blow” on them is a form of defamation of character and cyber-stalking). Doing this will only invite negative emotions and make you start to hyper fixate. It’s an easy two way street that will invite people to do the same to you- and unless you’re the next coming of Christ someone will inevitably find out something negative about you. Do not hold people to standards that you yourself cannot achieve. You may be more morally inclined than your bully but no one one is perfect. You will never be able to please everyone. It is not your job to do so. 

4. Report, Put Away, Ignore: If these people are saying things to you that can be documented and reported to your school (assuming these are classmates that you can prove have done things) then take a screenshot if possible and report it. It’s a gamble to have anything done about it, some schools are shit about bullying, but some schools aren’t. Recently in my case, in grad school there was a bullying incident and we were incredibly afraid of what the bullies would do if they found out who exactly reported them, but thankfully I had friends help us report it- so multiple reports from anonymous sources made it hard for them to pin point it was someone finally standing up. Some colleges will take defamation of character (which, as an adult, is really what a lot of bullying is) very seriously and amazingly- that bully completely changed. I would not call them a friend, but for now their apology seems sincere and they’ve worked towards being a better person. So, if you choose to report it, after reporting, put that shit away and don’t keep looking at it, find a way to make it really hard to look at over and over. Put it in a folder within a folder within seven folders if you have to BECAUSE- 5. You HAVE to work towards moving ON or it will consume you.

Way, way easier said than done. I’m not saying so much ‘be the better person’ as to just ...seriously remove yourself from that shit as fast as you can. You owe nothing to the people that hurt you, but giving them more of your time over and over if you have the option not to is only going to end in you getting angrier or more upset yourself. The first time something hurts you, put a warning label on it, if it continues to hurt you, do not engage.

The internet can be so toxic- a lot of bullying is masked as “call-out culture” from minor things that happened years ago, it validates the worst forms of “coping” possible. It creates such a bad system of alarm fatigue for when real issues are happening, and creates a hive mind of abuse and hyper criticism where everyone is looking for the next target. There’s an extreme difference if a “bully” disagrees with your favorite ship or show and harasses you about it, or if someone is literally harassing you as an individual by telling you to self harm or worse. Treat your emotional scars like an actual wound; if you keep picking at it and ripping off the band aid to see if its still there its never going to heal. The scars might still be there and will still be visible on some days, but you’ll no longer be bleeding at the slightest brush. Learn to grow, learn to let others grow. Learn to trust again, and learn to try and be happy with who you are and who your friends are as you know them.  A big reason why I stepped away form the internet is that I found myself looking to validation in terms of popularity. And when i finally had it- I realized how toxic it ended up being for my health. I’d spend hours just to make a comic even at the cost of sleep or food, and 100 positive comments couldn’t stop my brain from fixating on ten that were negative or downright harassment. Even as I step back on the internet, I’m doing it from a much better place internally. It’s so so important not to get lost in numbers and online “validation.” Please just know eventually things will get better, and those that matter will stick around to be there to see your growth. People will always find something to give you shit about, but only you can determine how much it affects you. Recognize your emotions, process them, and take responsibility for them. Let your self-worth be determined by your own actions and words, not the actions or words of others.

#long post but #i think this is really important sorry

[seasonofthegeek]

Not a Date

The next drabble on my list for the fanfic trope mash-ups was requested on ko-fi by @staylostinstereo for the prompts “not a date” and “first time” with Adrien and Marinette. Thanks so much for the request!

Adrien and Marinette have retired from their superhero lives and are reuniting in Paris for dinner. 

___

“This isn’t a date,” Marinette said for the third time since she’d met Adrien outside the train station. They walked side by side along the warmly lit shop fronts as dusk settled around them.

“Not a date,” he agreed but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Just two old friends seeing each other again after a few years apart.”

“Exactly.”

“And definitely not two retired superheroes reigniting the old flame.”

“Adrien,” she warned.

He flashed her a Chat Noir-worthy smile but held up his hands in surrender. “I said ‘not’.”

“Mmmm. Besides, there’s no old flame to reignite.”

“Maybe not for you, my Lady.” He meant it to be funny, but he saw the way her eyes tightened around the edges and quickly moved on with another topic. “Hey, were you able to get a spot in that fashion show you emailed me about a few months back? New York, right?” They stopped in front of the small cafe they’d agreed on earlier and Adrien held the door open for her.

“Ah, that. No, I didn’t get in. I think I’m actually going to take a break from the fashion scene for a while.” Marinette led them to a small table and didn’t make a fuss when Adrien pulled out her chair for her. 

“That surprises me.”

“I’m just tired,” she admitted. “I work and work and work and don’t feel like I really get anywhere. It’s just...not what I was expecting, I think. I don’t know if it’s for me.” She frowned slightly as she looked down at her menu. “Does that sound as pathetic as it feels?”

His expression turned fond and understanding. “If anyone knows how hard you’ve worked, it’s me. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting an easy life after everything we’ve been through.”

“Easy for you to say. Did I see that you spent a long vacation living it up on a yacht with Prince Ali?”

Adrien blushed but grinned in reply. “Who am I to deny a request from royalty?”

They both paused to give their orders to the server and Adrien chuckled uncomfortably once they were alone at their table again.

“Actually, that trip is part of why I reached out to you. I saw a few headlines calling me a rich playboy and, I don’t know, it just bothered me. I used to make a difference in people’s lives, help them, and now I just... get tan on the deck of a fancy boat and drink too much because one of my friends wanted me to join him on a trip.”

“Apparently it’s unhealthy to feel selfish to be doing something for ourselves now. We may both suffer from a hero complex,” Marinette replied dryly. “At least, that’s what my therapist says.”

He shook his head.“I still can’t believe Alix is licensed to help people work through their issues. It’s a little scary.”

“She’s actually pretty great at it if you need the tough love deal, which I do.” She tapped her fingers against the handles of the flatware laid out on a napkin. “It’s nice to hear you say that though. I’ve been feeling the same way, though I haven’t been tanning and drinking.” She winked to take the sting out of her jab and was relieved to see Adrien smile in return.

“I thought I should be taking some time for myself but it felt hollow.” His mouth twisted in irritation. “Which is frustrating because we fought for so long and it seems like we should enjoy getting to live our lives now without worrying about what’s around the next corner.”

“Not so easy though.”

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”

“And you enjoyed being a hero.”

“So did you,” he countered. “Just for different reasons, I think.”

“Is that one of the reasons why you left the city?”

He smiled wryly. “Isn’t it why you did?”

Marinette sighed. “We could play this game all night. Yeah, I guess. It was hard to be in Paris and not be her, to not remember some of the things I should know.”

“I know what you mean.” He winced. “A bit, anyway.”

She let his comment pass without any addition. They each had their own burdens of the past to bear. “But I missed it here too. I’ve been visiting my parents for a few weeks and I’m tempted to stay.”

“I have to say I was glad you wanted to meet here. I haven’t been back since...” He paused and sipped on his water, glancing around the small cafe. It wasn’t overly crowded but there were a decent amount of tables filled. 

Marinette didn’t press him to finish his thought. She knew he hadn’t been back since they took down Hawk Moth and Mayura. Losing two of the main adult figures in his life had been hard on Adrien and no one blamed him for disappearing after the trials. She missed him though. She didn’t realize just how much until now.

Deciding she wanted to banish the darkness edging into his eyes, she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. He blinked up in surprise. “Stay with me,” she said. She meant the words to be teasing and warm but her tone had been too soft.

“I would,” he replied as quietly. 

Marinette felt an old panic rear up inside her and she snatched her hand back with a flustered laugh. “Oh! I meant, um, you know, like, mentally.”

His lashes swept downward to hide his eyes but a smile played at his lips. “I know what you meant, Marinette. Don’t worry.” He looked up at her with the not quite a smile. “This isn’t a date. I remember.”

She cleared her throat and awkwardness settled between them where warm comfort had been only moments before. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Adrien eyed her warily as if she was leading him into a trap. “Not exclusively, no.”

“But that means you are seeing someone, or someones?” She raised an eyebrow and tried to look nonchalant.

He shrugged and did another look around the room. “There are a few people I meet up with when I travel different places. There isn’t anyone serious though. What about you?”

“I stay too busy to date.” She brushed off the thoughts that bubbled up with the statement. “I tired a few times but I always ended up choosing work.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem now though, not if you stay here.” Adrien leaned away from the table when the server appeared and set their plates in front of them.

“I suppose not.” Marinette pursed her lips and found that she’d lost her appetite. Tonight was supposed to be easy and comfortable and the way it used to be, the way it felt when they were emailing, but it seemed her relationship with Adrien had gone the way of so many others. History could only do so much.

They began to eat in silence.

“Do you miss being up high?”

Marinette swallowed the bite she’d just taken and nodded. “Sometimes.”

“I really miss it. There’s just no other feeling like it.” Adrien cut into his chicken without looking up at her. “I’ve tried a few things like skydiving and extreme parkour but nothing feels the same. I guess it was part of the magic.”

“I doubt I’d be able to keep up these days.”

“You look like you could.” His cheeks darkened and he dropped his eyes as quickly as he lifted them. “I just mean...you look like you’re still in shape.”

“You’re a sweet liar.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not lying.”

“Mmm.” She liked the pink that was spreading across his cheeks. “You still look like you’re in shape too.”

“Oh, I know.” He flashed her a smug smile and she tossed a cherry tomato at him. “We’re in public! Show some respect,” he teased, lobbing it back to her plate.

“So rude.”

Their laughter quieted but the smiles remained. 

“Have you ever been back to the Tower?”

“Since we gave them up?”

Adrien nodded and took a bite of chicken.

“Not up it. I went one day and thought I could go up, but it just didn’t feel right.”

“Do you think we could tonight? I know it won’t be the same and we’ll be tourists, but...”

She felt warmth fill her. “But it’d be as close to old times as we can get.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d love to.”

___

Marinette couldn’t ignore the sting of tears as she looked out over the city. They’d gone as high up as people were allowed to but it wasn’t nearly enough. Her knuckles mottled from her grip on the railing and she blinked against the wetness coating her eyelashes.

“I know,” Adrien whispered, and he covered her hand with his. 

They stood beside each other until they were instructed to leave and they did so hand in hand.

“I don’t think I can say goodbye.” Marinette swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I knew it would be wonderful and agonizing to see you again and now I don’t want it to end.”

“I can stay in town,” he offered. “I don’t want to leave you either.”

“You can’t do that. We have different lives now.”

“We don’t have to.”

She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Only because you aren’t willing to give it a try.” Adrien stepped closer.  “Marinette, for the first time in your life, just do this without overthinking it. Give us a chance.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then.”

He gave her half a smile. “Neither am I. We can learn each other all over again.”

“This seems too crazy.”

“Oh, it is.” He nodded. “We’re practically strangers but I still think you know me better than anyone else in the whole world.” He dared to reach up and brush his knuckles gently against her cheek. “And I think I know you just as well.”

So for the first time, without overthinking it or planning it or worrying herself about it, Marinette closed the space between them and kissed Adrien the way she wished she had all those years ago because for the first time, she really felt like she could.

And, of course, he kissed her back.

Buy me a cherry coke?

#adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug

[corie-the-writer]

Lost & Found

 Featuring Detective Loki

"It's going to be a late night." Detective Loki wrapped his arms around Y/N, his girlfriend of nearly three years as she stood at the kitchen counter, making a cup of coffee for the both of them. 

Y/N turned around and wrapped her arms around Loki's neck and gave him a soft smile, "If I told you to behave, would you?" Y/N questioned, knowing that the man in front of her, often butted heads with his boss causing Loki to let out a little chuckle.

"Probably not." 

Y/N grinned from ear to ear at her boyfriend, knowing that he was always one hundred percent honest with her. Whenever she had first met Loki, she knew that he had a rough childhood growing up, was an extreme trouble maker, went to an all boys school, and ended up turning his life around. Y/N couldn't have been prouder of how far Loki has came, especially in his career. He worked his ass off day in and day out to make sure that he was able to solve every single one of his cases that he was given. 

"What are you smiling about?" Loki questioned leaning forward to kiss Y/N's forehead. 

"Just how lucky I am to have you in my life, and how proud I am of you for how far you've come." Y/N commented, causing Loki to cup the curve of her neck and leaned forward to give her a kiss. 

"I love you too Y/N." Loki kissed her again for a moment giving Y/N enough time to deepen the kiss causing Loki to wrap an arm around her lower back, pulling her closer, "Fuck, as much as I would love to continue this, I'm going to be late." Loki sighed, pulling his lips away and resting his forehead onto Y/N's, "Maybe we can meet up for lunch or dinner?" Loki questioned causing Y/N to give a nod. Y/N turned around, pouring Loki's coffee into a travel mug and giving the cup over to the Detective, and walked him to the front door. With one final kiss, Loki walked towards his car and got himself situated before driving himself to the station. 

[X]

Detective Loki's morning was filled with interviewing the parents of two missing girls, and he had to admit that he was having a hard time with the case. It's not that he didn't question if he could find the girls, but he had a hard time with the idea of two little children missing out of thin air. These sort of cases hit hard for him ever since he had met Y/N. She had changed his whole view on life. 

There were certain cases that caused him to think about his relationship with Y/N, especially children. He had thought about what it would be like to have children with her, and when cases of missing children came up, Loki started to get a nervous tick and his anger slowly started to surface thinking if it were his children. Then there were cases of domestic violence, or anything to do with women Y/N's age. 

Loki had finally headed back to the police station, his mind heavy from seeing one of the girl's mothers breaking down, along with the father, which was completely understandable. He had to silently admit to himself that he would be a lot worse than the Dover's and Birch's, he couldn't imagine what Y/N would do if she were the one being interviewed. 

Sitting at his desk, Loki pulled out his cell phone to see the wallpaper screen of his beautiful girlfriend, and decided to send her a text to see if they could meet for a late lunch. 

For anyone who knew Loki, knew that he came off as an asshole, eccentric, even completely emotionally unavailable, but Y/N saw past all of that. She was the one that he could open up to about tough cases, about the things from his childhood that had made him shut down, he was able to talk to her about anything and everything. He cherished her, more than he could ever put into words. He let out a sight of relief when he had gotten a text from Y/N saying that she would meet him when he was ready. Shooting a quick text of the restaurant location, Loki grabbed his jacket and headed out of the station. 

[X]

Y/N had been sitting in her car waiting for Loki to arrive at the little Chinese restaurant, playing around on her phone, answering a few work emails, completely missing the large white van with tinted windows parked a few spaces down that followed her from the home they shared together. 

Hearing the car door open up, Y/N jumped in surprise, her heart beat quickening for a moment and then relaxed seeing Loki. With a hand over her heart, Y/N smacked at Loki's arm causing him to let out a small smirk. 

"I've missed you." Loki commented lowly, reaching over to wrap an arm around Y/N the best he could, and took in the familiar smell.

"You okay baby?" Y/N questioned, feeling how tense he was and felt him shake his head no, causing her to frown, "Talk to me handsome." 

Loki moved to pull away, kissing her cheek in the process, then leaning back in the seat and running a hand over his face, "This case..." Loki started with a sigh, "Two little girls are missing, their parents, are heartbroken." Loki added, "Obviously they have the right to be, but there's this suspect, he has the IQ of a ten year old, and one of the girls father's, I think he's going to go off the rail with this kid." Loki explained, "Then I keep thinking if this was our kid, I know I wouldn't stop for anything to find our baby." 

Y/N listened intently, "That's rough baby." Y/N thought for a moment, "This kid, the suspect, do you think he's involved?" 

"Honestly, I don't know." Loki admitted, "We checked the RV the girls were playing on, there were no traces, not even where he stays." Loki added, "I just...this is too close to home for me." Loki admitted, "When I see these parents, I can't help but to think of us." 

Y/N reached for Loki's hand and gave it a squeeze, "I wish I knew the right thing to say right now, but I don't." Y/N started, "I do know that every single case you've gotten, you were able to solve. Even though it feels like there are no leads, you will be able to find something soon." Y/N added, "You just have to have hope. You need to stop thinking about what we do in that sort of situation, because it's clouding your judgement with the case. That's something we can discuss once this case is solved and you're able to bring these little girls back home." 

Loki couldn't help but to lean over to cup Y/N's cheeks and give her a passionate kiss, "I don't know what I would do without you." Loki smiled causing Y/N to let out a little laugh, "Let's go inside." Loki added, gesturing to the restaurant. Once Y/N and Loki finished their meals, Loki walked Y/N back to her car, and kissed her good bye, watching as she backed out of the parking space with a bright smile, causing Loki's heart to swell. 

[X]

It was nearly three o'clock in the morning when Loki arrived home. He had ended up staying later than he realized to go over a few different leads, and then began to look back at the interview tapes. 

Parking his car next to Y/N's, Loki headed straight for the front door with his keys out, and stopped in his tracks seeing the front door slightly cracked. He was immediately on high alert, knowing that Y/N would never forget to close the door, so he quickly pulled his gun out, and stepped into his home. 

Clearing the living room, and kitchen, Loki made his way to the spare bedroom, clearing that room and the closet, and then cleared the bathroom. Panic began to set in with no sign of Y/N, as he began to walk towards the master bedroom. 

"Y/N?" Loki called out walking into the bedroom, and seeing it empty, and then checking the second bathroom.

Putting his gun away after the entire house was clear, Loki searched the house for any signs and then called the station to have someone come take a report. 

Y/N was missing. 

Out of thin air.

Loki felt like he couldn't breath noticing a small pool of blood on the living room floor now that the lights were on, and felt himself running outside, and began to dry heave, with his hands on his knees, trying to control his thoughts. 

[X]

5 days. 120 hours. 7,200 minutes. 432,000 seconds. 

That is how long Y/N had been missing. 

Loki had been spiraling into a dark place with the love of his life missing. He had almost zero leads, aside from back tracking to surveillance cameras from the places he and Y/N had went to over the past few days. He had been trying to see if there was anything out of the ordinary, but he was having a hard time focusing on the computer screen in front of him. 

Pulling out his cell phone to see the familiar picture, Loki found himself breaking down. He trashed his entire desk, nearly ripping the computer out of the wall, and flinging the papers that scattered his desk onto the ground. 

"I think I got something." 

Loki dropped into his chair, a hand going over his face for a moment, so he could control his emotions while he was at work, and wiped his hand down his face and then looked to a fellow detective. 

"What?" 

"There has been a white van seen parked several houses down by your place." The detective explained, "The same white van was seen at the Chinese restaurant the day Y/N went missing." 

"Any licenses number?" 

"No, but we are searching for security cameras from the opposite angle." Loki gave a nod, looking at the pictures of the white van, seeing if he could see something the fellow detective couldn't. 

[X]

Y/N knew that she had to remain calm, especially since there were two little girls sitting close to her, trying to find comfort with her presence. Y/N knew that Loki would figure out where she was, if not her, the girls, and knew that they would be saved. 

It was just a waiting game. 

The only thing that Y/N couldn't figure out is why she was taken in the middle of the night while she was asleep. Obviously the person had to have been following her to know where she lived. She felt incredibly stupid for not watching her surroundings, something Loki had instructed her to do on several occasions. 

"Joy, Anna.." Y/N spoke quietly, causing the little girls to lift their heads, "I know you guys are scared, but can you guys be brave for me just a little bit longer?" Y/N questioned quietly, and watched as the little girls nodded their heads.

Both little girls leaned on Y/N, and she tried to give them as much comfort as she could with her hands tied together in her lap. Y/N remembered a song that her parents had sung to her when she was scared to sleep at night, so she began to hum quietly to help ease the girls to rest. 

Y/N looked around as she hummed and tried to see if she could find some sort of exit, but she quickly realized that they were ungrounded. Y/N knew that she would do whatever it took to make sure the girls, and herself got home safely as she found herself leaning her head back against the dirt wall, praying Loki would find them sooner rather than later. 

[X]

Loki could feel it in his bones that he was getting closer with leads. He also knew that he was on extremely thin ice with his boss after roughing up a suspect because of Y/N missing. He was thankful that his boss had turned the other cheek given the circumstances. But he was given a final warning after slamming the suspects face into the table, causing his nose to shatter, and the suspect shooting himself in the head. 

There was a part of Loki that felt like he was failing you, since you had been missing for so long. He had tried to think of something that you would tell him, but he knew that he could never give words of encouragement like you. He had to admit a part of him wanting to hand the case over so he could just go rogue, but he knew that he didn't trust anyone else with this case, especially since you were involved. 

"Loki, we got a problem." His boss spoke up behind him, causing Loki to roll his eyes and turned around, "Dover is missing." 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Loki cursed under his breath because Keller Dover was the biggest pain in the ass when it came to this case. He had caused a slew of issues with the investigation, and also knew that Alex Jones was missing as well. 

"This isn't a coincidence." Loki spoke up with his boss agreeing, "Now the question is, where exactly are they." 

"Did we check the aunt's house?" 

Loki gave a nod and realized something wasn't adding up, and turned back to his desk to look at the photos he had splattered across the floor, and the drawing of a maze the suspect who had shot himself started to draw. 

"Holy shit..." Loki breathed out, grabbing the papers of the map and the necklace from the dead body the father was hiding in his basement, "This is a map to the bodies." Loki stated, "But where is the rest..." Loki mostly questioned to himself, and then decided to head back to the suspects house. 

[X]

Y/N had been jolted awake by the sounds of a cellar door opening, causing her to try to shield the girls as much as she could. Y/N stood up, seeing the older woman approaching, and Y/N was trying to figure out how she could take this old woman down with her hands tied. 

"Well look who's awake..." The woman stated cooly, and Y/N took a moment to see if she was armed and saw that her hands were clear, and decided to take a step forward, realizing the woman must have thought they were still drugged.

"Stay back girls." Y/N stated, not taking her eyes off of the woman in front of her, "You are one sick twisted bitch." Y/N stated and knew that she was going to have to fight like hell to get her and the girls out of this hell hole. 

Y/N thought back of the self defense moves Loki had taught her over the course of their relationship, and knew that she had to be a lot stronger than the woman in front of her, and without a second thought, Y/N charged at her causing the girls to gasp. Y/N was able to connect her elbow to the woman's face, "Girls, run!" Y/N shouted to them, as she threw another elbow into the woman's stomach, and watched as the girls ran past them and scurried up the stairs that led to the night light. 

Joy and Anna ran out of the yard and towards a house a few places down and began to bang on the door shouting for help. 

[X]

Loki had just about called it a night, he hadn't been to his home, the home he shared with you since you had went missing, and he knew that he needed to grab more clothes, since he had taken a few different outfits when he had left the house the night you vanished. 

Just as he logged off his computer for the evening and stood up to put his jacket on, his boss came rushing into his office, causing him to turn around. 

"The girls, they showed up." The boss breathed out, "They...they said that a woman named Y/N helped them escape, she is still with the person who took them." Loki was sprinting out the door before he could get the address, thankful that his boss was right on his tail, and they both jumped into his car. 

Loki's hand was gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he sped through the streets to get to Holly Jones house. 

[X]

The Detective barely put his car in park before he jumped out of the car, noticing the ambulances and other police cars surrounding the Jones residence. His cool blue eyes noticed a stretcher and a body bag and his heart stopped in his chest and he rushed towards the EMT's pushing the body. 

"Y/N..." Loki nearly choked out, expecting the worst as he unzipped the bag. 

"Sir, Y/N is still in..." The EMT tried to speak but the moment Loki realized that the body was Holly Jones, he rushed towards the back yard where cops and other EMT's were standing.

"Y/N!?" Loki shouted, pushing past the police offers, and climbing down the ladder, looking around for the familiar set of eyes. Once Loki spotted Y/N sitting on the ground, her beautiful face starting to bruise, a cut on her forehead with blood falling down her face, he rushed to her, "baby..." Loki breathed out, kneeling in front of her. 

Y/N blinked her eyes open to see Loki staring at her, and she swore that it was a dream due to the drugs in her system, tears started to build in her eyes, and she found herself shutting her eyes as Loki reached out to cup her cheek. 

"Open those eyes Y/N..." Loki pleaded.

"She's been heavily drugged, she's coming down from.." The EMT began to explain as Y/N opened her eyes back up, realizing that Loki was in fact right in front of her, causing her to launch herself into her boyfriends arms. 

"You're safe.." Loki held her tightly, his hand going to the back of hers, feeling the blood, "We're going to have to get you to the hospital to get checked out." Loki spoke lowly, feeling Y/N nod against him.

[X]

Y/N laid in the hospital bed, her head stitched up, her elbow broken from the amount of hits she had given the woman who had kidnapped her and the girls. Her face swelling slightly from the punches she had received, and extremely groggy from the drugs she was forced to take. 

"Did she say why the woman took her?" Loki's boss questioned to Loki who hadn't left Y/N's side, and Loki gave a nod. 

"She said that she was wanting someone to carry on the legacy that she and her husband created and what better way that to have that be the girlfriend of a detective." Loki commented, "How are the girls? Y/N will want to know when she wakes up." 

"They're okay, they're getting better. They want to see Y/N when she is awake." He stated, "If it wasn't for Y/N, they would be a lot worse. Y/N took most of the drugs from what the little girls said." 

Loki gave a nod in understanding, turning his attention back to Y/N who began to stir in her hospital bed. He was aware that his boss had quietly left the room and shut the door behind him as Y/N began to open her eyes. 

"It's okay baby..." Loki whispered quietly, his hand squeezing hers, letting her know that she was safe, "You're safe." 

"Loki..." Y/N breathed out tears building in her eyes, and Loki leaned closer to her, being mindful of the cuts and bruises. 

"I know baby, I know." Loki moved to sit on the bed to hold his girlfriend, "I thought I was gonna never see you again." Loki admitted as he kissed the top of her head, "I hope you realize, you're never leaving my sight again." "I'm completely okay with that." 

Part 2 Anyone?

#detective loki #detective loki x reader #jake gyllenhaal #detective loki imagine #anon request

[rinnnyxr]

-

About my day | Bold what is also true for you :

I woke up around 8AM.

I woke up without an alarm. I woke up nude.

I woke up and drank water immediately.

I checked my phone right when I woke up. I checked my TikTok notifications.

I checked my Facebook notifications.

I then checked my email.

I then went downstairs. I got dressed to go out.

I was in the passenger seat of the car today.

I wore a hat today.

I put concealer on.

I put foundation on.

I put on powder.

I used a beauty blender.

I didn’t brush my hair today.

I wore ugg boots.

I wore jeans.

I wore a zip-up.

I went out to breakfast.

I had 3 cups of coffee.

I had a glass of ice water.

I had pancakes.

I had a bagel.

^ with cream cheese.

I saw friends today.

I saw my boyfriend today.

I saw my goddaughter today.

I gave someone a hug.

I gave someone a kiss.

I pet a cat today.

I uploaded video.

I took a photo today.

I updated that photo to Instagram.

I’m currently listening to music. I’m currently on my laptop.

I’m currently in PJ’s. I’m currently surprisingly comfortable.

I took a shower.

I took a shower but not alone ;)

I have the heat on currently. I wore a bracelet today.

I wore a ring today.

I listened to the radio.

I listened to music on Apple Music.

I didn’t post a Facebook status today. I checked the fridge and saw nothing appetizing. I washed my face.

I used rose water spray on my face.

I used a face moisturizer.

I googled a celebrity. I had cheese and crackers.

I may take a nap soon.

I saw my mom today. I saw my sister today.

I thought about calling my dad today.

I’m not currently wearing socks.

I’m not alone in the room currently.

It’s windy out today. It hailed out today.

I’m really thirsty.

I’m too lazy to get up and get myself a drink right now.

I paid for something with cash today.

I thought about cleaning my room but didn’t…

I listened to God’s Plan by Drake today.

I didn’t blow-dry my hair today. I’m gonna play video games soon.

I’m going to take some more surveys after this. I drank something out of the carton today.

I’m not leaving the house for the rest of the day.

I can see my pet from where I am currently.

There is a TV to my right.

There are headphones to my left.

It’s Sunday today.

I have work tomorrow.

I got in a small argument today.

I told someone I loved them today.

-

1. had sex? 2. bought condoms? 3. gotten pregnant? 4. failed a class? 5. kissed a boy? 6. kissed a girl? 7. used a little paper bag for lunch? 8. had a job? 9. slipped on ice? 10. missed the school bus? 11. left the house without my wallet? 12. bullied someone on the internet? 13. sexted? 14. had sex in public? 15. played on a sports team? 16. smoked weed? 17. smoked cigarettes? 18. smoked a cigar? 19. drank alcohol? . 20. watched “The Breakfast Club”? 21. been overweight? 22. been underweight? 23. had an eating disorder? 24. been to a wedding? 25. made fun of someone for being fat? 26. been on the computer for 5 hours straight? 27. watched tv for 5 hours straight? 28. been late for work? 29. been late for school? 30. kissed in the rain? 31. showered with someone else? 32. failed my drivers test? 33. ran a mile in less than 10 minutes? 34. been outside my home country? 35. been on a road trip longer than 5 hours? 36. had lice? 37. gotten my heart broken? 38. had a credit card? 39. been to a professional sports game? 40. broken a bone? 41. been unhappy about my weight? 42. won a trophy? 43. cut myself? 44. had an STD? 45. got engaged? 46. been on a diet? 47. tried out to be on a tv show? 48. rode in a taxi? 49. been to prom? 50. played a drinking game? 51. stayed up for 24 hours or more? 52. been to a concert? 53. had a three-some? 54. had a crush on someone of the same sex? 55. been in a car accident? 56. had braces? 57. learned another language? 58. killed an animal?  59. been at a yard sale? 60. been to a Japanese steakhouse? 61. wore make up? 62. talked to someone via webcam? 63. lost my virginity before I was 16? 64. had my wisdom teeth taken out? 65. kissed someone a different race than myself? 66. snuck out of the house? 67. bought porn? 68. had a virus on my computer? 69. had oral sex? 70. dyed my hair? 71. gone skinny dipping? 72. graduated from college? 73. wore someone else’s clothes? 74. voted in a presidential election? 75. rode in an ambulance? 76. rode in a helicopter? 77. caught the stove on fire? 78. got in a verbal fight? 79. met someone famous? 80. been on vacation? 81. been on a boat? 82. been on an airplane? 83. broken something expensive? 84. had surgery? 85. kissed someone before I was 14? 86. beat a video game? 87. found something valuable on the ground? 88. made a survey? 89. stalked someone on a social network? 90. prank called someone? 91. spent over $100 shopping in one day? 92. been to a library outside of school? 93. cut my hair and hated it? 94. peed outside? 95. went fishing? 96. helped with charity? 97. taken a pregnancy test? 98. been rejected by a crush? 99. been suspended from school? 100.broken a mirror?

-

2008 was a horrible year for me. Actually, it was the best. I’ve been on a cruise before. I like chemistry more than biology. I like taking surveys more than making them. I absolutely despise the color pink. I don’t have a significant other. I get all four seasons where I live. I only shop when I absolutely have the need to. I have an older brother. I have my driver’s license. I don’t want to have kids someday. I wear more jeans than skirts. I’d rather wear sneakers than high heels. I don’t go to church. I don’t like having my fringe in my face. I’m very much into heavy metal music. I own like, a hundred hoodies. I couldn’t draw to save my life. I’m a very good cook. I always have to look at the keyboard when I type. I’ve had surgery before. I don’t mind getting shots all that much. I’m not afraid of bugs. I love hot, hot weather! I have huge eyes and long lashes. I’m naturally very pale. I’m usually not very picky at all when it comes to food. My parents are divorced. I don’t like doing surveys, but I find myself doing them anyway. I’m addicted to Tumblr. I don’t have a Facebook account. I have perfect vision and don’t need glasses or contacts. I don’t wear makeup when I go out. I hate stores like Forever 21. I’m very much into sports. I don’t see what the big deal about photography is. Or fashion design. I don’t really appreciate art that much. Horror movies are my favorite. I don’t care if people cut in line in front of me. I don’t even remember the last time I put on a piece of jewelry. My hair is naturally straight. I support gay marriage. I have more friends online than I do in real life. My siblings are all older than I am. My significant other is younger than I am. I curse in almost every sentence I speak. I always get straight A’s in exams. I don’t know how to play any instrument. I only know how to speak one language. I don’t have my own personal blog. I’m allergic to something. I’ve been stung by a bee at least once in my life. This is the last survey I’m doing today. I have seen someone propose in public before. And they got rejected, poor bloke. I wonder if I will ever get proposed in public. Heck I don’t even know if I’ll ever get married. I know what a sake bomb is. I’ve tried it before. I’ve watched ‘Paris Hilton’s My New BFF’. ^ Ew, sad much? I think Paris Hilton is a brainless bitch. I celebrate Chinese New Year. I’m not Chinese or a tiny bit Asian at all. I have a step-sibling. I have a weak tolerance of alcohol. Are you kidding me? I can drink all night long! I want a new cell phone. I have my own bathroom. I sleep on a single bed. Nah, I have a King/Queen size bed! I think one night stands are no biggie. ^ Slut ^Prude I’ve been on a helicopter before. I’m actually afraid of heights. My date rented a limo to take me to prom. Pfft, I wish I had a date. I haven’t had my prom yet. I like clicking on advertisements. Pop-up ads are so old school. I recently took a bath. I never bother, I just take showers. My Christmas holidays were the bomb! Ugh, mine sucked like hell. I’d love to go to Japan one day. I’ve seen a ghost before. ^ I’d pee in my pants if I did. ^ No, I’d run and scream. I can write lyrics! I can, but I’m not very good at it. I would like to become a musician one day. I love finding things in sofa cracks. I know someone that’s trying very hard to fit in a stereotype. Every cup of water I drink equals to a trip to the toilet. I recently received my exam results. They were quite good! Nope, failed it all. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today. He never gives me gifts. He buries me with them. I wish I had a boyfriend that actually spends money on me! I love him very much. The Beatles rock my world. Actually, a lot of classic rock bands rock my world. It takes me a really long while to get to sleep. I’m a personality quiz fiend. I am and have always been a night owl. I love reading Sarah Dessen books. My earphones are in my ears practically 24/7. I am an only child and that’s not because of any death. I hate school and everything else connected to it. I’ve never been in any romantic relationship. I have a lot of favorite names. And I plan to use those names on my kids. I’m reading a comic book right now. I’m listening to music right now. I memorize lyrics really easily. But memorizing stuff for school isn’t easy at all. Math is my worst enemy. I love bolding surveys. Nice and easy. I pick Guitar Hero over Rock Band. I really don’t mind being all alone.