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tillywhim · 2 years

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Well, That Didn't Last Long

Ok, first things first, I'm playing serious catch up here so you'll have to bear with me if I'm covering things that are in the dim and distant past for you all now. As you know I had one heck of a time trying to regain access to my account then, when I finally did get it back, I caught the flu so have been laid up with that for the past few days. I'm just going to go over the things that have happened as they occur to me and give you my take on them. Here goes:

Yes, no sooner had they landed back in sunny Montecito and heard the news and seen the subsequent portrait of the royal quartet, Our Lady of Perpetual Victimhood shot back with an image of herself and husband Saint Henry of the Wounded Ego taken during their soiree into Manchester for her appearance as the keynote speaker at the One Young World Charity. I'm not a computer whizz but the doctored images doing the rounds are a hoot and well worth a look. I'm sure their "friend" photographer Misan Harriman who took this and other heavily photoshopped (tree of life anyone?) images of the couple would approve. Since the release of the above portrait, it seems that the "charity" which calls itself a "global forum for young leaders" is being investigated for paying Kate Robertson and her daughter Ella McKay almost £2 million in 5 years, some of it during the lockdown periods of Covid when no summits were being held. The Charity Commission is investigating remuneration packages for senior management personnel at One Young World and, although I may be allowing bias to take precedence, looking at the pair in charge, I can only say, why didn't happen sooner. I should point out, there is no suggestion of any impropriety from the Harkles or any celebrities associated with the "charity". One Young World, Markled it would seem. However, back to the point of the photo, it was a knee-jerk reaction to release it when and how she did. It was a fuck you, we're still royal or at least one of us is and we're not going to let you forget it. What it has served to do, is to remind everyone just how bitter Ms Markle can be.

Katie "I saw Him First" Nicholl has a new book out, "The New Royals" and is desperate to plug it and get as many sales as possible. To that end, and with no context whatsoever, she "let slip" a story about Prince George supposedly telling another child at school during a bit of toing and froing "watch out, my dad's going to be king". This opines Katie, makes young George a bit of a brat. The twittersphere went crazy, tumblr went mental, social medias everywhere went into meltdown and poor old Katiekins felt the need to defend herself saying her words had been "taken out of context". Yah think Katie? Would that be because you didn't give them any context? As many of you know, Katie works for Vanity Fair, she very often seems to be a fair minded, even handed, intelligent human being. However, when her mask slips as it did in this instance, you see her for what she is, a mean girl interested only in fame and making money using someone else's name. Remind you of anyone?

Archetypes with Meghan is back *shudder* after a short break following the death of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. This time round, our girl was discussing the stereotyping (someone really should explain the meaning of both words and the differences between the 2 to her) of Asian women in film. By Asian women, Meghan was referring solely to Chinese, Korean and Japanese and possibly Thai, completely ignoring Indian, Pakistani, Israeli, Iranian, Turkish, Lebanese, Sri Lankan, Syrian, Bahrainian and Cambodian to name just some of the 48 countries not including dependencies which make up the continent of Asia. Is her racism showing again? Anyway, this time round, before her guests, Margaret Cho ( Korean-American Comedienne, Actress and Activist) and Lisa Ling (Taiwanese-American journalist, author and television presenter) were given the chance to talk about themselves (and Margaret has had a pretty interesting life, she's a survivor of familial sexual abuse, dated Quentin Tarantino and was openly bi-sexual at a time when it was frowned upon by everyone!) everyone had to endure the thrilling installment of how Doria used to take Flower to the Korean Spa and all these naked women from 9 to 90 would be wandering round waiting for their treatments. Now, all you internet detectives worked out that she had lifted this from a kids cartoon show called Big Mouth (plagiarism is as plagiarism does) but what interested me was did she say what year this was because we know that Doria dropped out of her life for at least 10 years. She did say she was hitting puberty so if our maths is correct, she was definitely with Thomas then and if rumours are to be believed, Doria was incarcerated. Even if she hadn't copied the story from a show she's probably caught one morning, things just don't add up. One minute they're saving up to go eat at a Sizzler and the next Doria is taking them both to a Korean Spa for the works? It's like Judge Judy says "if you tell the truth, you don't need to have a good memory". The best thing about all of this, they've employed a fact checker. On her show. This really tickles me. That girl is going to be so busy, she won't know if she is coming or going and I think she will have a very hard time separating the truth from fiction when it comes to Ms Markle because she has told that many different versions of "her truth" over the years.

Harry has a new Law Suit. It must be Thursday. Yep, Harry, Elton John, David Furnish, Elizabeth Hurley, Sadie Frost and, most notably, Baroness Lawrence have all filed suit against ANL with allegations including the planting of listening devices, paying officials and accessing bank accounts. The accusations listed by the Duke's solicitor's Hamlins LLP alleges the following: The hiring of private investigators to secretly place listening devices inside people’s cars and homes’; ‘The commissioning of individuals to surreptitiously listen into and record people’s live, private telephone calls whilst they were taking place’; ‘The payment of police officials, with corrupt links to private investigators, for inside, sensitive information’; ‘The impersonation of individuals to obtain medical information from private hospitals, clinics, and treatment centres by deception’; and ‘The accessing of bank accounts, credit histories and financial transactions through illicit means and manipulation.

As we all know, Harry does not handle the press well at the best of times and unlike his brother, has been unable to build any sort of working relationship with them (unlike his wife). To him, they will always be the enemy, they will always be the reason his beloved mother died. He and William were both "hacked" by the Sun newspaper group back in the day and what is happening now has echoes of that. Even if ANL is innocent of everything they are being accused of, in Harry's eyes they will always be guilty. I think this is one of the main reasons he has them in his sights as often as he does. I doubt winning the cases matters to him, he just wants to cause them as much upset and distress as he can.

On a lighter and brighter note, after their visit to Wales where they were a resounding success, the new Prince and Princess of Wales made a surprise visit to Northern Ireland.

Catherine seemed to be gifted ALL the flowers, she deserves them, she does, I just hope she had enough people on hand to help her carry them. The pair had fun competing to see who made the best cocktail in the quickest time, Catherine won (natch), I hope they got to drink them, especially Catherine after being accosted by the lady in the crowd telling her it would have been nicer if she was visiting when Ireland belonged to the Irish. Didn't she handle it well, a quick smile and then on to the next person, my message to the lady in question, wait until the politicians are in town and take it up with them. I should say they started their day at PIPS which provides crisis support for people at risk of suicide or self-harm (think they definitely earned those cocktails).

William got accosted by a pair of cocker spaniels who really, really, really wanted him to know what good boys and girls they were.

The last visit of the day was to Carrick Connect and Catherine got to hold another baby (William was smiling but was he also looking a bit worried at that gleam in her eye?)..

That's it from me. I will try to post more. I'm still battling the flu and trying to catch up with everything I've missed from everyone's blogs. Oodles of love, Tilly

#royalwatching #catching up #tilly's round-up

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dollycas · 1 year

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Fateful Words: A Scottish Bookshop Mystery by Paige Shelton #Review / #Giveaway @MinotaurBooks @AuthorPaige

Fateful Words: A Scottish Bookshop Mystery Cozy Mystery 8th in Series Setting - Scotland Minotaur Books (April 4, 2023) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 304 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1250789532 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1250789532 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B09Y45JKX5

In Fateful Words, the eighth Scottish Bookshop Mystery from beloved author Paige Shelton, bookseller Delaney Nichols stakes her reputation—and her life—when a literary tour turns deadly... When Edwin, Delaney’s boss at the Cracked Spine bookstore, leaves town on secret business, Delaney is called upon to guide his yearly literary tour around Edinburgh. But on the first night of the tour, at the inn where the tour group is staying, the inn manager falls—or is pushed—off the roof of the inn, and killed. Then, one of the tour members disappears, leaving a trail of puzzles in her wake. In a race against the clock, Delaney sets out on the expedition of her life, following clues around Edinburgh to get to the bottom of this mystery. Exploring sights from Greyfriars Bobby to the Royal Mile to the Sir Walter Scott Monument, she'll have to put the pieces together quickly, or the bookstore's survival could be on the line...as well as her own. Dollycas's Thoughts Delaney Nichols loves her job at The Cracked Spine Bookshop. Working on the "dark side" of the shop organizing owner Edwin MacAlister's many collections is like a dream come true. Right now Edwin is off on some secret business and took Hamlet with him. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, Rosie and Delaney can handle the bookstore, but this is the week of Edwin's yearly literary tour around Edinburgh and his invited guests have already arrived. Delaney has no choice but to take over the tour knowing the participants are going to be upset. Edwin's tours are legendary and while Delaney can't measure up to his fame but she will give it her all to give them the best time in Edinburgh she can. The first day of the tour went pretty well but after dinner trouble breaks out at the inn where the group is staying. The manager has fallen or was pushed off the roof, an employee has been attacked and one of the members of the group has disappeared. Delaney has another real-life mystery on her hands and she and her husband Tom team up to do their best to solve it. They soon realize both Delaney's life and the bookstore are in danger so time is most definitely of the essence. Fateful Words is the 8th book in Scottish Bookshop Mystery Series and this is my new favorite. Delaney Nichols has grown so much since she arrived in Edinburgh, a farm girl from Kansas. She is confident in her job, married a wonderful man, and has made many friends. This time she was put to the test and had to fill in for Edwin and for a newcomer she did an excellent job. I love the way she follows the clues and always shares her findings and theories with Inspector Winters although I am sure it gets to be a bit much for him at times. I really enjoyed that even though he was away in London Edwin played a major role in this story. He is a fantastic boss and truly Delaney, Hamlet, Rosie, and even Hector are his family. They have a strong bond and that is what makes this series so strong. The characters are realistic and genuine and it is very easy to get invested in their lives. Ms. Shelton takes her readers right along as Delaney escorts Edwin's guests on a tour of the city. Her descriptions paint pictures whether it be above ground or below. I felt like I was on a fabulous virtual vacation to a city I would love to travel to someday. The fact that she intertwines a couple of fantastic mysteries along the way makes it even better yet. Those mysteries have a bunch of moving parts made harder to solve by a variety of twists and turns. I was fascinated by the notion that instead of narrowing down the number of suspects the list increased as the story played out. Another change from previous stories Delaney's "book voices" were silent throughout most of the story. The twists mounted as we got closer to the end and the suspense takes a big jump. The pages were flying and I was holding my breath. Wow, what an ending. Surely one of the best books I will read this year. Fateful Words is a supreme addition to this series. A complicated mystery, with delightful characters, set in a dream locale. I was entertained from the moment I opened the book until the final page. I really have a hard time letting these characters go. Until next year Edinburgh, my virtual bags are already packed.

About The Author Paige Shelton is the New York Times Bestselling author of the Farmers’ Market Mysteries and the Country Cooking School Mysteries. She’s lived in lots of places but currently resides in Arizona. Find out more at www.paigeshelton.com

Coming December 5, 2023

Read the full article

#cozymystery #MinotaurBooks #NetGalley #PaigeShelton #Scotland

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fyesnatashalyonne · 4 years

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Nicky Nichols (Orange is the New Black, 2013-2019)

#in case my devotion to her in this blog wasn't apparent #i would give ms. nichols my life #i love this tiny smartass lesbian so much #nicky nichols #natasha lyonne #orange is the new black #oitnb #idol challenge #challenge #top 30 characters #wlw #my gifs #mine

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mimsyaf · 3 years

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Monday's child is fair of face - Sam

Sam remembers what it was like in the Before Times, when boys’ eyes would slide right over her as if she were invisible. When merely brushing her hair and her teeth counted as being ready to go. When she and Aisha hurled inside jokes across the hours in a schoolday like skimming pebbles across the surface of a pond. When her body was useful For Things: spinning, kicking, blocking. Now she spends an hour on her makeup every morning and boys’ eyes get stuck on her like she’s covered in flypaper.

Tuesday's child is full of grace - Demetri

“I want to try something,” says Yasmine, “close your eyes.”

“Uh,” says Demetri. Is this going to be where we give each other handjobs? he wonders, feeling a little hysterical.

Yasmine pulls his eyelids shut with two beautifully manicured fingertips, then wraps his arms around her waist. She sways her hips, the motion traveling through his hands into his wrists and up his arms, and pretty soon they are swaying together — holy shit, they’re actually dancing!

Wednesday's child is full of woe - Robby

“People with disorganized attachment oscillate from two biological drives whenever the opportunity to attach comes about in life: the need to belong (to love and connect with others) and the need to survive (to protect oneself). People with this style of attachment often feel fear and anxiety when forming intimate relationships and suffer from a negative self-image and extremely damaging self-talk, not to mention intense loneliness.”*

“Christ,” Daniel stops reading and puts his phone down, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

“It’s not your job to fix him,” Amanda says, coming up behind him and firmly resting her hands on his shoulders.

“I know,” says Daniel, turning to hide his face against the taut curve of her stomach, “but oh Mandy, me and Johnny... we made everything so much worse.”

Thursday's child has far to go - Eli/Hawk

They’d found an IQ test online when they were twelve, and of course Demetri insisted on taking it. And of course Demetri got deeply offended at testing two points below him, and launched into a diatribe about multiple intelligences, and how these tests were racist, classist, ableist and a whole bunch more -ists, which somehow eventually devolved into a heated debate about American imperialism.

If he could go back in time, before the birth of Hawk, would he? He supposes it’s a moot point, time travel being paradoxical and all. But two extra IQ points or no, he has no idea how to even begin to apologize to Demetri for the terrible things he did to him, or how to fathom why he’d done them in the first place.

Friday’s child is loving and giving - Miguel

Sam pushes her fingers into his thick black hair, tugs on it until he raises his eyes to meet hers. “Where... where did you learn to do that?” she gasps.

“You don’t want to know,” he mutters with a rueful grin — ah, of course, Tory.

“Do you like doing it... to me?” she asks, a little shy.

“I love it with you, Sam,” he replies, beaming at her like the freaking sun before sinking his head down again and oh, oh WOW.

Saturday's child works hard for a living - Tory

$43.19 in tips, not bad, but not nearly enough, not two days before they’re going to cut off the electricity. Sensei can’t exactly threaten Southern California Edison for her.

She clicks on “Payment Assistance” and is immediately overwhelmed by the options: Family Electric Rate Assistance (FERA), 1-Time Energy Assistance Fund, Low Income Home Energy Assistance Program (LIHEAP), 12-month Payment Arrangements Plan...

Tory feels a sharp prickle behind her eyelids, but tears are for losers and there are no losers in this dojo, are there, Ms. Nichols? She swallows hard and clicks “Learn More”.

And the child born on the Sabbath day,

Is bonny and blithe, good and gay - Aisha

“I thought you weren’t doing karate anymore,” Sensei says, grumpy as ever.

Aisha feels like her face might split in two, she’s smiling so hard. “I heard there was a lot riding on this year’s All Valley, and some things are worth risking parental anger for,” she says.

“Your parents don’t know you’re here?” he mutters, looking shiftily around the dojo. “Alright, but do not, DO NOT, tell Sensei LaRusso that, got it?”

———————————————————————

* much of the description of disorganized attachments I lifted from this article in Psychology Today.

This version of Aisha is from my story Aisha Gets A Life.

I wrote this based on the nursery rhyme Monday’s Child, giving each character a line from the poem and trying to provide a little glimpse of or about them in five sentences. It’s amazing how much more I like some of the kids, having written just a snippet for them. I’m even warming up to Yasmine!

#cobra kai #my fic #sam larusso #aisha robinson #demetri #yasmine #robby keene #daniel larusso #amanda larusso #eli/hawke moskowitz #miguel diaz #tory nichols #cw: teens doing sex stuff (not explicit)

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lokifantasies · 3 years

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The Trial PART 1

Summary: The long awaited trial against Evan Nichols has started, and the foundation of the case against him has been laid out.

WARNING: GRAPHIC TORTURE AND SEXUAL ABUSE EXPLAINED.

Character(s): Loki, Thor, Jade, & Evan

Read the Mischievous Life series here!

Follow Jade, Loki, and Reader!

Join the Discord here!

Taglist! (click here to join a taglist!)

Strikethrough means I can’t tag you for some reason.

@1marvelnerd3000 @agentkinghorn @angeldarkness95 @arypesanchez @chaotic-neutral-queen @donttouchmylaevateinn @emerald-alone @eyesbluelikethetitanic @fa-me @ferriswheel97 @geeky-politics-46 @holdmytesseract @iris-shihabi @itsybitchylittlewitchy @jeongadelarinia @lokistoriesblog @lougy @melianisnothere @mqrvelbvnch @mm2305 @mortallythoughtfulgurl @nms224 @prettysbliss @shraddhadeveshvikram @xoxoloverb @you-will-find-peace-someday

The trial is here. It's the day that your family has been waiting for since this whole nightmare started. Unfortunately, Loki and Jade are both adamant that you remain on bed rest for the sake of the growing baby, and you ultimately end up losing the argument when you try to force them to let you come. Loki assures you that he'll be by her side for the both of you – supporting her the entire time.

In the back of your mind, you know the stress of hearing and seeing the evidence would be too much for you, and no one wants to see anything happen to your baby. Thankfully, Thor also appears to support his niece and brother – sitting on Jade's right as Loki sits on her left.

"I don't wanna see him," Jade mutters – looking down to the floor when Evan walks into the courtroom with his parents.

The teenager looks like he's injured – his leg has a slight limp, and his eye is swollen and dark. However, the seventeen-year-old has a smug smile on his face – his ego being stroked when he sees the television cameras on him. He takes his seat in between his lawyers, and they group together to discuss something quietly. Loki, Thor, and Jade try their hardest to hear what they're saying, but they're speaking far too quietly.

"I don't understand how he could have a defense," Thor says to you and Loki. "How can anyone deny that he did what he did?"

You shrug. "I don't know, Uncle Thor. I just want this to be over with."

The prosecution begins their opening statement by laying out all the facts of the case and making it clear what Evan Nichols is being tried for. His charges are as follows:

- 1st degree aggravated kidnapping

- 1st degree sexual assault (with forcible penetration)

- 1st degree sodomy

- Conspiracy to commit a kidnapping

- Conspiracy to commit a felony

- Felony stalking

- Harassment

- Attempted murder

- False imprisonment

- Assault with a deadly weapon

The first few witnesses to testify are the first responders who saved Jade from the small space she was being held in.

"Could you please state your name for the court and how you became involved in this case?" the prosecutor, Mr. Jeff Bards, began to question the officer.

"Brian David Wilson. I'm an NYPD SWAT officer who responded to the 911 call to 4892 E Graves Road," the witness explains.

"What happened upon arriving at the address?"

The officer took a deep breath before speaking. "We, the SWAT team, forced our way inside the house, and we started searching. I began to hear some muffled pleas for help, and when I followed them, I came across the fake wall in the home's basement. After removing the fake wall, I discovered that there was a small crawl-space type room."

"Can you confirm what the photo on the screen is?" Mr. Bards asks – a photo of the tiny, dark space where Jade had been held showing up on the screen.

"Yes, that is the crawl-space," he confirms

"And where was Ms. Lokisdottir located?"

"She was located in the back corner of the crawl space. She came out from hiding when she saw me, and I pulled her out of the space," officer Wilson stops to take a deep breath and gather his thoughts – trying to push his feeling aside. "Afterward, I carried her out of the house and to the ambulance that was waiting outside."

There's silence as the officer exits the witness stand – looking towards Jade and Loki as he goes to take his seat in the rows. The other officers testify – stating similar things to what the first one did. Then, everyone hears the fateful words.

"The prosecution calls Jade Pandora Lokisdottir to the stand, please."

Loki and Thor wrap their arms around the shaking sixteen-year-old – remind her that they're right there, and if she needs to, just look at them and they'll help her.

"You can do this, my love," Loki says softly. "Just pretend you're having a conversation."

"Okay," Jade nervously breathes out.

Thor hugs his niece close before she stands up. "You are so strong, Jade...just like your parents. You got this."

Jade exhales and nods – trying to walk up to the witness stand without falling. On the way, she refuses to look at the defense's side of the courtroom – disgusted as to how anyone could defend Evan.

Oh well, everyone has a right to a defense.

For a moment, Jade looks towards Evan. A smirk appears on her face when she sees his injuries – wondering who she needs to thank for the revenge. Before Jade turns her attention away, Evan takes the chance to blow a kiss towards her – excited to watch the goddess relive the nightmare he put her through.

"Could you please state your name for the court?" the prosecutor asks – looking directly at Jade.

"Um," Jade's voice is soft against the microphone. "Jade...Pandora Lokis-Lokisdottir."

"And can you tell the court how you came to know the defendant?"

Jade takes a deep breath and exhales – looking towards Loki and Thor for support. "Ye-yes. Um, we met at the mall when my parents took me shopping before the school year started. That weekend, we went out on a date, and then we started dating."

"Were you and the defendant ever sexual?

"Not...really," Jade answers. "Um, we only ever had oral sex, but that's it. I wa-wasn't comfortable with ever going any further than that."

"So, there was never any consensual sexual intercourse?"

"No."

"How long were you and the defendant dating?"

"Four months."

"During that time, did the defendant act inappropriately towards you in any sort of way?"

Jade exhales. "Yes. The last night we hung out together, he tried to force himself on me, but he ran away and drove off when I yelled for my dad."

"Ms. Lokisdottir, can you walks us through the day of September 3rd?"

Jade shakes her head and exhales nervously – looking towards Loki and Thor for their support. This is the first time she's ever spoken about what happened to her, and hopefully, it'll be the last.

"I was...at school, and Evan told me he wanted to speak with me privately, so I followed him out into the parking lot to smoke marijuana and talk in his car. When we got to his car, though, he locked the doors, and he took off from the parking lot." Jade swallows hard before continuing. "Um...I begged for him to stop and turn around – just let me go back to school, and I wouldn't tell anyone. But he didn't. He kept driving – pulling a knife from under his driver's seat and holding it to my throat. I tried to do as he said – hoping that he'd let me go, but he never calmed down. When we arrived at his house, no one was home. H-he led me into the basement and pulled a dresser away from the wall. It was a secret room behind the wall, and he made me...uh...he made me take all of my clothes off, so I was completely nude. He put a collar around my neck, and he connected it to a bolt in the floor so that I couldn't move much. He left for, I guess a couple hours, and he left me in the dark room. I remember how cold it was. It was freezing...especially since I didn't have any clothes. When he came back, he started to...do things."

"Could you explain what things were done to you by the defendant?"

Jade's eyes begin to tear up – her breathing becoming staggered as she thinks about how to word the horrific abuse she had been put through. The looks of support from Loki and Thor, however, give her a strength that she didn't know she had.

"There was...a metal bar," Jade begins quietly – biting her bottom lip to keep her thoughts going. "He had a long lighter with him, and he started to heat the bar up. He was laughing when he pressed the hot metal to my thigh – smiling at me while I screamed in pain as my skin started to burn. There's still a burn scar on my left thigh. When the bar finally cooled down, he threw it to the side. He grabbed me by the chain leash and forced me down to my knees. With his other hand, he...took his penis out of his pants and pried by mouth open. He grabbed the back of my head and used my mouth to get himself off. No matter how much I cried, and begged, and pleaded, he didn't stop. He found it entertaining. It turned him on." Jade looks out to see Loki and Thor becoming angrier by the second, but they're trying their best to remain calm for Jade's sake – knowing that they need to be her support. "After he was...finished, he uh, forced me to lie on the dirty floor. I tried to keep my legs closed, but he punched me in the face, which caused me to jump. Before I could try to close my legs again, Evan had them spread, and he began to...force his mouth...on me. I felt his teeth bite me, and I knew I was bleeding, but it seemed to turn him on even more. H-h-he reached over and grabbed the metal rod again, and h...I'm sorry...can I just...a moment?"

"Take your time," the prosecutor assures Jade – maintaining a professional composure.

Jade exhales deeply – closing her eyes and trying to gather her courage to continue.

"H-he began to use the metal rod to...assault me. He shoved it inside me – giving me cuts and bruises. I was bleeding, but he continued to thrust it in and out of me until he was satisfied. I thought he would finally be done, and I thought he'd take me home, but then I felt him begin to...insert himself...his...penis...into me. I tried to kick him off, but he held my legs as tight as he could to stop me from moving. It...I'm pretty sure he was trying to cause me pain. Finally, I stopped fighting – wanting him to just hurry up and let me go. I tried to stop crying because I didn't want him to be anymore satisfied with himself, but when I felt his fingers start to go into...the other side, I started fighting again. He pulled me up by the chain, and he forced me to look into his eyes. I remember he said that I was now his slut, and he was going to break me until I learned to love it. After a couple of minutes...he...ejaculated into me, which later resulted in a pregnancy. Evan was still wanting more though, so he turned me over and held my face to the floor as he entered my backside. Again, ignoring my cries and screams for him to stop. I lost track of how many times he did this...I think I may have blacked out or something, or maybe my brain made me forget in order to protect me from the memory, but the next thing I remember was being alone, redressed, and I heard the police officers calling out for me."

"Thank you, Ms. Lokisdottir," the prosecutor says with a proud smile.

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fandom #dad!loki #loki x reader #loki x you #mischievous life #ongoing series #requests open #send requests #jade lokisdottir #loki family

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

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(all I wanna do) is grow old with you

A probably-too-long Peraltiago soulmate AU where your body stops ageing until you’ve met the one you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with. Inspired by this post, and encouraged by @fezzle because her mind is amazing and we both fell down the rabbit hole on this one 😅

You can find the rest on AO3, because it’s waay too long to post on Tumblr. 🍕

(all I wanna do) is grow old with you

Amy’s breath fogs up the glass of the mirror she’s facing as she lets out a heavy sigh, eyes taking one more scrutinising look over her appearance. Same olive coloured skin, same dark brown hair. Same smile, same shrug of her shoulders. Once again, nothing had changed.

She had been five years old when her mother had explained the Rule of Life as they knew it - that once you reached your 30th birthday, your body simply stopped ageing, and the only way to kick it back into gear, was to meet your soulmate.

To a young and idealistic Amy, it had seemed like the Ultimate Romantic Notion - that you couldn’t possibly grow old until you’d found the right person to grow old with. And in her early twenties, when appearances and vanities paid more value than they should, she had been in no hurry to find The One. Until she’d reached her Age Limit of 30, and realised that beauty lay within those who had found their other half. Wrinkles and streaks of grey in heads of hair were enviable, not feared. The lucky ones would walk the streets with pride, unable to bridle their joy as they gripped their partner’s hand with their own.

Watching her family and friends grow older while she remained stagnant never seemed to get easier for Amy. Standing in the sidelines as the next phase of their life would begin, she couldn’t deny that it stung a little when her youngest of brothers, Luis, had salt and pepper flecks of colour in his previously jet black hair at the last Santiago family gathering. Or that her best friend Kylie now tried her best to conceal the crows feet that had begun to appear around her eyes, sunglasses framing her face whenever she and Amy met up for lunch.

Try as they might to hide the changes in their appearance - which she knew was out of love for her, to not rub in that they had found what she hadn’t - the only thing that the people surrounding her couldn’t conceal was the overwhelming exuberance that radiated from each and every one of them. That sense of completion - the elation that finally, the rest of their life can begin.

Amy turns her head in profile one last time, a discerning eye tracing her hairline before giving up with a shake of her head. Last night she had been on a date with a man named Gabe (a match from an online dating app that she’s definitely going to delete), and at the end of the night she honestly had felt as though things could be … kind of promising. He was handsome, with similar interests to her, and while he spoke about investment banking maybe a little more than Amy would have liked, he certainly seemed like a worthy option when it came to her soulmate. And so, with the freshly risen daylight’s sunbeams streaking through the windows of her apartment, and her alarm buzzing incessantly beside her, Amy had jumped out of bed, making a beeline for the mirror.

However, it would appear Gabe was not a match. Her appearance had not changed in the slightest. And today was just going to be another day, like all the others, without Amy knowing her soulmate.

She gets ready for work with the clocklike precision that only a life uninterrupted can bring, casting one last downcast glance at her reflection as she turns to leave. Perhaps the universe had a point - Gabe was definitely not the one for her. But … he had to be out there, somewhere.

It’s another ten hours before Amy is shuffling into her apartment again, finally home after what can only be described as a less than mediocre day.

As a detective for the 99th precinct, she and her partner Rosa had developed a finely tuned friendship that had resulted in an impressively high arrest rate. And today, they had been given the case of a jewellery store robbery - a robbery that had unfortunately turned rather high profile, as one of Brooklyn’s most well known residents, a celebrity chef named Cadi Nicholls, had been robbed in broad daylight, from the inside of a jewellery store.

Ms Nicholls had, despite several requests from various officers, been overly vocal about her ‘traumatic’ experience on social media, and in an effort to have the case closed before things turned ridiculous, Captain Holt had put his best two detectives on the case.

They had been so confident they would catch the thief. Until they watched the security footage.

The perp appeared as if from nowhere, sliding Nicholls' diamond tennis bracelet right off her wrist without her even knowing, before yanking the sapphire ring she had just purchased out of her hand and running like hell.

Frustratingly (or conveniently, depending on who’s perspective you looked at it from), the security cameras outside had been out of order for days leading up to the robbery, so when it came to the getaway car the two women had absolutely no clues.

Instead, they had spent the entire day interviewing countless witnesses, knocking on apartment door after apartment door until they tracked them all down. All of which felt like a reprieve after finally escaping their interview with the chef herself; an hour long ordeal that she had insisted on live-streaming to her ‘concerned followers’.

By late afternoon they had returned to the precinct, feet throbbing in protest, spreading out the case file over Amy’s desk as they re-examined all of the information. The witness statements had been vague at best, and until they found a different camera that might have caught the getaway car they were officially out of leads.

Exhausted, she had been on her way to Rosa’s desk to see if her partner wanted to get a drink of commiseration after their shift ended, when she noticed something that stopped her in her tracks. Rosa Diaz was not a vain woman by any means, but right at that moment she had ducked her head down on the monitor, carefully shifting the strands of her hair into a specific position. And as she moved them into place, Amy saw what Rosa had been trying to hide.

She had greys. Only a few, and still ashy enough that it wasn’t immediately noticeable.

But she had greys. Which meant that she was ageing. Which also meant that she had found her soulmate.

Her partner had looked up, eyes turning apologetic as she noticed Amy watching her, and began to explain. “Her name is Jocelyn. I didn’t expect to - ” Amy raised her hand, halting the conversation as she plastered a smile onto her face.

“It’s fine, Rosa. Great, actually. I’m really happy for you.”

And she was happy. Honestly. Detective Diaz was a hard nut to crack, but underneath the leather-bound exterior was a kind, caring soul who genuinely deserved the best. And obviously, this Jocelyn was it for her. So Amy was happy for her partner.

And also a little bit jealous. Kinda defeated. And almost certain that her soulmate simply didn’t exist.

But mainly, happy.

Now that she is home, Amy dumps her bag onto its respective hook, kicking off her shoes near the doorway and shedding her blazer before heading towards the kitchen. She’s desperate for a glass of wine to take the edge off her less than average day, and had a Bordeaux stashed away in her cupboard laying in wait for the night that she could finally raise a toast to the person she is meant to spend the rest of her life with. Clearly, that was never going to happen to her (and tonight was as good a night as any to enjoy a glass of red), and once she finally yanks out the cork with her cheap corkscrew, she abandons the tool on the counter, sauntering over to her couch with the bottle in one, and a glass in the other.

Less than an hour later, Amy has changed into her cosiest clothes and is perched on the couch, tipping the bottle upside down and frowning as no more wine seems to come out.

Damnit. Somebody’s been drinking my wine. She cranes her neck, surveying the room with narrowed eyes as she searches for suspects, only to come up dry.

Clearly, the perp has already fled the scene.

Her stomach growls as it protests at the lack of food - and abundance of wine - it had been given. With only a slightly steady hand, Amy pulls out her phone from it’s position amongst the couch cushions, opening up a webpage to search for delicious food near me + quick delivery. She had only moved into this apartment three months ago, after saving her hard earned money for far too long, and was still slightly unfamiliar (and yes, perhaps a little too drunk) to know what takeout options were nearby.

The swirling symbol of a loading webpage disappears in a blink, the flashing logo of Sal’s Pizza taking its place. She nods enthusiastically, because pizza is great and she doesn’t eat it enough, scrolling her way through the options before settling on the perfect combination and adding to cart.

When this story gets told in the years to come, Amy will blame the empty bottle of wine for making her do this, but in the comment section of the order, she remembers a meme that her niece had recently shown her and types: send your cutest delivery boy. Giggling loudly, she presses send before another thought could be made, and as the digital countdown comes onto her screen she stumbles into the kitchen, in search of another bottle.

Jake Peralta rolls his shoulders against the stainless steel panels attached to the kitchen wall, legs feeling heavy as they dangle off the counter he’s perched on.

It was nearly at the end of his shift at Sal’s Pizza, and the later hours of the evening always seemed to drag, but he’s thankful for a moment of peace.

Sharing the delivery role with two other guys that he only knew as Scully and Hitchcock, he had spent the better part of the dinner rush covering their jobs as well as his own, both men claiming that they had gotten lost in the supposedly complicated streets of Brooklyn before returning to the restaurant several hours later, the pizza sauce stains still obvious on their chins. Jake’s responding eye roll had been poorly concealed, and he had retreated to the familiar company of his buddy Charles, the chef, in the kitchen before he ended up saying something regretful.

That in itself had turned out to be a risky move, having to instead listen to Charles talk on and on (and on) about his recently discovered soulmate, Genevieve.

And he’s happy for his best friend - really, he is. But every single mention of their chance encounter, sparked by mixing up their specially ordered local delicacies at their nearby deli (his octopus ring pâté, hers rare eyeball soup, both horrifying) was just another reminder that Jake himself was no step closer to finding his. Not that he’s even sure he wants to find his, but … still.

(Also, he was one more TMI conversation about their subsequent love making from taking the handle of both spatulas in the utensil jar and jamming them into his ears.)

The computer in the corner lets out an obnoxious ding! as an online order comes through, the attached printer grunting as it spits out a faded version for the chef. Jake shuffles along the counter, butt squeaking against the steel as he rips the paper free, sneakers hitting the tiled floor with a slap as he slides it into place. “Chet’s up, Charles.”

“It’s a chit, Jake.” Charles looks up from his position on the counter opposite, hands concealed as he kneads out a heavy pile of dough. “Do me a favour, read it out for me? I’m a little tied up here. Not as much as Genevieve was tied up last night, but still - ”

“One large deep pan, extra cheese, extra salsa!” Jake cries out quickly, desperate to drown out the sound of whatever Charles was about to describe. His friend nods in response, dusting off the extra flour from his hands as he heads over to another bench, the process of putting together a Sals Pizza so familiar it has become second nature.

He glances back up at Jake, right hand mixing in the hot sauce. “Any special requests on it?”

Right. The special requests option, a relatively new addition, had been the catalyst for some truly strange demands. After the horrifying command last week for the delivery boy to sing out the ingredients like a show tune upon arrival, Jake had been doing his best to avoid ‘special requests’ altogether. With a hesitant glance, he narrows his eyes at the bottom of the receipt before letting out a laugh. “Charles my good man, I believe I have been summoned.”

“Huh?”

Jake pulls the receipt off it’s holder with a flick of his wrist, brandishing it high in the air as he turns towards his friend with a smile. “Says so right here. Send your cutest delivery boy. Clearly, that’s me. I’m adorable.”

His friend gasps, spinning around to read the chit himself before turning to Jake in glee. “Jakey! This isn’t just any order. This is fate!”

Tipping his head to the side, Jake scratches the side of his cheek as he studies Charles’ reaction. “Fate has come in the form of a deep pan pizza? Honestly, I’m not surprised … but I think I always imagined it would be meat supreme?”

Charles’ hands freeze on top of the pie, a few shards of grated cheese slipping from his fingers as he shakes his head at Jake. “No, silly. The person who’s ordered the pizza is your fate. Not the pizza itself. Your soulmate is on the other end of this delivery. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh come on. That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know if this is for a person, or a company, or even some kind of robot that’s managed to gain sentience ..”

The chef’s head appears suddenly over Jake’s shoulder, peering at the details printed along the bottom of the receipt before giving him a solid side-eye. “Says right here, Amy Santiago. Sounds like a pretty great name for a soulmate, if you ask me.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake walks towards the oven, picking up the pizza peel from it’s holding place and lifting the next order into the grill. “I keep telling you, Charles. Not everybody is going to end up with their soulmate. The whole thing is flawed. It didn’t exactly work out for my parents, did it?”

“You’ve just gotta have faith, Jake! The universe has greater plans than you or I could ever imagine, and sometimes you just have to let the signs guide the way.” Charles countered, ripping the receipt from the order holder and shoving it into Jake’s shirt pocket, pointing towards the oven once his hand is free. “Order will be up in eight minutes, Mr. Cutest Delivery Boy. Don’t be late, destiny is waiting.”

It’s close to twenty minutes later before Jake is standing in the hallway of an unfamiliar apartment building, double checking the address on the receipt before raising his hand to knock (people are very willing to accept pizza when it is delivered, even if they haven’t ordered any - a fact he had to learn the hard way). The pizza box in his hand keeps sending wafts of deliciousness in his direction, reminding himself that he’d unintentionally skipped dinner this evening, and he makes a deal with his stomach to fill up after this delivery.

There’s a muffled sound of the Jeopardy theme song playing through the doorway when Jake knocks, and he hears the clank of glass against a surface before the door begins to swing open. Twenty bucks says this is some nerdy professor, Jake thinks to himself, drawing on his biggest smile, ready to play the role of Cutest Delivery Boy to a tee.

And then, his heart stops in his chest.

The woman that answers the door is crazy beautiful. Beautifully warm toned skin with the most expressive eyes, her dark hair scraping her shoulders as she opens the door a little wider.

“Heyyyyy, the pizza guy is here!” The mystery woman smiles, leaning heavily against her doorframe as she gasps, pointing. “And he brought PIZZA!”

If this was what nerdy professors looked like, I DEFINITELY would have paid more attention in class, Jake thinks to himself as he continues to smile, handing over the pizza to the woman’s outstretched hands. “One deep pan, extra cheese, extra salsa.” His voice switches into automatic pilot, reciting the line that had been forced into his memory, hands landing on his hips in the signature pose as he forces a too-wide smile onto his face. “I hope we managed to fulfil your special request, ma’am, and it’s a good evening now that you’ve got a Sal’s Pizza.”

Her dark eyes blink dazedly for a moment before a deep blush rushes over her cheeks. “Oh right, my uh … special request.” They travel down Jake’s frame before heading upwards again, holding his gaze until she bites her lip. “Yeah, I’d say you did, Pizza Guy.”

Now it’s Jake’s turn to blush, sweaty hands dropping from his waist and dangling uselessly by his side. He’s always been a connoisseur of the Art of Flirtation, but tonight he finds himself more than a little tongue tied. Inconveniently, Charles’ voice creeps into Jake’s mind. Your soulmate is on the other end of this delivery. She giggles at his obviously embarrassed reaction, shoulders bouncing as a squeaky hiccup escapes.

Shuffling his feet, Jake’s brain switches into overdrive as he frantically tries to think of the perfect pickup line to make, but before anything incredible can be formed he begins to really take in his client’s appearance. Her glazed over eyes, the vice like grip of her hand on the doorframe …. “Uhh, I’m always up for a bit of flattery, but … I think you might be a little intoxicated. Do you know how much you’ve had to drink?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly as he watches the woman sway.

She shrugs, turning the movement into a dorky little side-to-side boogie as the ads begin playing on the TV in the background, an annoyingly catchy song about paper towels taking centre stage. “Only a couple of glasses.”

Jake looks past her, taking in the incriminating evidence of two empty wine bottles sitting on the table next to the couch. “Just a couple, huh?”

She follows his gaze, swinging her head back to him as a giggle escapes. “Well, I mean … the bottles are made of glass, right?”

He can’t help but laugh, nodding at her observation. “Yes. Yes, they are.”

“See?” She laughs along with him, holding onto the pizza box with one hand as she begins stepping backwards, moving her feet into what he thinks is an attempt at the moonwalk. Her feet, which may actually both be left, are dangerously close to tripping over each other, and just as he reaches out a hand in warning the two lefts connect - pizza box flying out of her hands as her arms begin to flail about, desperately searching for something to grab onto as she begins to fall.

Jake’s feet can’t move fast enough, and she hits her head on a small side table, landing on the ground with a thud before he can get to her. She stays still, head twisted to the side and moaning loudly as he kneels down on the ground, paying special attention to her extremities in case she’s actually hurt herself. “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asks. Her receipt is still in his pocket, and he really wants to grab it out right now to remember her name, but it’s way too late for that now. Damn my goldfish memory!

“I’m … I’m fine.” She swings out an arm, letting it slap against the hardwood floor near Jake’s crouched position as she turns to look at him. “The floor is just a little spinny, that’s all.”

He stifles a grin as he looks at her determined face, already knowing that there was no point in explaining to this woman that the floor was, in fact, not spinning (or ‘spinny’, as it were). Instead, he responds with “Yeah, spinny floors are the worst.”

She smiles at him, and his heart skips a beat just like the first time, and he kinda really wants to know her name. “He gets it! Thisguygetsit.” She slurs, pointing an intoxicated finger at Jake. And he knows that she’s drunk … and he knows that she probably doesn’t have any idea what she’s saying … but tiny little butterflies begin to flutter in Jake’s stomach, gaining traction the longer she lays there, pointing her finger at him. She’s adorable, he thinks to himself.

But, she might also be injured, and so he offers her a hand up, pretending not to notice the tingling sensation when her palm meets his. She groans as he helps her up, right hand clapping onto her scalp, wrinkling her face and looking at him accusingly. “How did I end up on the floor, anyway?”

Jake grins at the woman, pointing with his free hand towards the discarded pizza box, explaining - “You were dancing away with the pizza, and tripped over your two left feet.”

Her eyes look at the box warily, looking to Jake, then back to the pizza. “That makes sense. I am left handed, after all.” She nods, a movement quickly thwarted as her head obviously throbs in protest.

Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he watches her clutch her hand to her head, and as she moves towards the couch, he clears his throat. “Uhh, listen - I’m no expert, but I think you might be in danger of having a concussion. Is there somebody else here, who can watch over you tonight?”

The woman’s head drops as she shakes her head slightly. “No. I live alone. All alone.” Realising the gravity of what she’s just said to this stranger, her head shoots up quickly, and Jake pretends not to notice her reactive wince. “But I’m a cop. A badass cop, in fact. And I could kick your butt from here to next Sunday, Pizza Guy, so don’t you go trying anything.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa there, officer. My intentions are honourable, I swear. I just think you might have hurt yourself a little bit, and you shouldn’t go to sleep until someone has made sure you’re okay.” Pausing, Jake lowers his hands a little as the woman’s gaze turns less accusing. “Is there somebody you can call?”

She shrugs. “Rosa, I guess.” Picking up an empty bottle, she shakes it, willing more wine to appear. “Yeah. Call Rosa. Tell her to bring booze.” She giggles, her face dropping just as quickly. “Probably won’t come, though. Too busy with her soulmate or whatever.”

There’s an odd mix of sadness and hope that comes from this woman speaking of her friend’s soulmate. It was hard not to hear her bitterness, and Jake could feel himself beginning to reconsider his own opinions. If someone as sweet as this woman is hasn’t found her match, maybe this whole soulmate thing wasn’t as ridiculous as it seems. Clearing his throat, he twists his mouth to the side slightly before speaking. “I’m sure if she knows you’re hurt, she’ll come over.”

Another shrug, the light from a nearby lamp catching onto her hair and making it shimmer a little. You’re falling, Peralta. “Maybe.”

He waits for a pause, and she looks up at him expectantly. “Um, I … I don’t have Rosa’s number.” His tone is apologetic, which is crazy, because if anything it would’ve been weirder if he had known this Rosa’s number. He wipes a hand across his face, trying to push some sense into his brain, and as he rubs his eyes the woman begins fishing around her couch cushions, pulling up throw pillows until she thrusts her phone into the air in triumph.

“I do! I have Rosa’s number.” She unlocks the screen, handing the device over to Jake without hesitation. He takes grip of it, watching with confused eyes as the woman shouts an answer to the game show host still on her screen before grabbing the remote control on the coffee table, fumbling at buttons until the TV switches to mute. Turning her attention back to Jake, the woman’s eyes light up when she realises he’s still holding her phone in his hand. “Hey! I’ve got a great idea. Let’s call Rosa!”

If this had been anybody else, Jake is pretty sure by now he would have given up and left this crazy client to their own devices. But there was something so wholesome about her vulnerability, so open to the complete stranger that he was, that he really wanted to make sure she had someone take watch over her tonight. So with a grin taking over his face, he scrolls through her contacts until he finds (thankfully, only one) titled Rosa, pressing the call button before handing the phone back to the giggling beauty covered in crumpled sweats on the couch.

She takes it from him with a smile, a surprised gasp escaping when the line connects and she calls out “Heyyyyy, Rosa!”

His heart squeezes a little as her face crumples into confusion, shaking her head in a futile response to the voice on the other end of the phone. This woman is adorable.

“Whaaat? Noooo I’m not mad I’m not - I just got pizza and hit my head with it and now Pizza Guy thinks I shouldn’t go to bed and I know you can fix it so canyoufixitRosa?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jake takes a quick glance around the room while the conversation continues. It was a stark contrast to his own hole in the wall apartment, to say the least. But oddly, he felt comfortable here, with the warm coloured tone painted on the walls, plush couches with ample throw pillows and the sweet smell of vanilla coming from … well, coming from somewhere.

“Honestly, I’m fone - I mean, I’m fine. It’s just … this pizza has stars on it and the couch won’t stop spinning and okay maybe I hurt myself?” Jake watches as she drops her head into her free hand, voice lowering slightly as she mumbles, “Bring Joss .. Joz … Jocelyn over too if you want. You totally should. I’m fine. Really.”

As though suddenly remembering Jake’s presence, the woman looks up and gives him a thumbs up, smiling in victory. “You’re the besssst, Rosa! I totally owe yo-” stopping abruptly, she looks at the phone in her hand with another giggle. “She hung up.”

He laughs along with her, watching as she flips open the lid to the pizza box and digs out a slice, taking a step back towards the doorway, suddenly very aware that he’s been standing in a relative strangers living room for longer than normal. “Well, as long as somebody is coming, I should leave you to enjoy your pizza ma’am.”

Her hand pauses mid-way from her mouth, several ropes of cheese forming a bridge between pie and human as she turns her attention towards Jake. The words are masked by a mouth full of pizza, but he makes out the words thank you, Pizza Guy! as he turns to leave.

And even though there is still a part of Jake that thinks this whole ‘waiting for your soulmate before your life can begin’ is a little ridiculous, he still sits in his car near the front of the woman’s apartment, waiting until a leather clad figure with dark curly hair appears, stomping up the staircase and slamming her finger on the same apartment number that he had half an hour ago before being buzzed into the building. He tells himself that he’s just being a good person, making sure that a patron of his employer was safe, but there’s a tiny part of him that already knows that he cares more for this mysterious woman than he should.

** this thing is 16k long, so find the rest on AO3! **

#my 30th fic y'all!#my first soulmate au #b99 fanfic #sleuth sisters #Jake x Amy fic #Rosa and Amy working together to solve a case #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fic #I know that AUs aren't everybody's jam #but I dig them #inspired by tumblr

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edarrelpeloquin · 2 years

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diyarlight · 6 years

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together forever (part 2)

part 1

Spencer was with Prentiss and Rossi when he gets the call. “Hello?”He answered.

“Spencer,” JJ said, and he can feel his heart stop when he can hear the dread and fear in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Its… it's (Y/N).”

“What about her?”

“(Y/N) found Nichols’ body and she got infected, Spence. But she took Cipro so she’ll be fine right?” JJ asked, her voice shaking at the end.

Prentiss and Rossi watched as Reid went extremely pale. “I am going over there right now,” His voice shook when he spoke, and quickly put his phone away.

“What’s wrong?” Rossi cautiously asked.

“(Y/N) is infected. I am going there now,” Spencer informed them, and didn’t wait as he rushed off without another word. All he could think was you and dying and that was not going to happen. He was not going to lose you.

….

“Morgan, how’s Y/N?” Hotch asked as he walked with the general.

“There’s white powder in the room and the air was blasting,” Morgan answered. The general quickly gave orders just as when Spencer pulled over.

“How the hell did this happen?” He demanded, his eyes blazed with anger. He turned to Morgan, his brown eyes accusing him. “Why weren’t you there with her?”

“Reid, calm down,” Hotch warned the young agent. “We need you to focus so that we can save Y/N.”

“Calm down?” Spencer shouted. “Hotch if it was Hayley in there-“

“If you don’t calm down right now I will take you off the case.”

“You wouldn’t,” Spencer narrowed his eyes on his boss, but he wasn’t sure if he was lying.

“We all are worried right now, but we need to focus on the case if we want to save Y/N,” Hotch tells his agents. “Morgan, what do we know?”

Morgan hesitates, glancing at Reid before answering. “Nichols is dead. Blunt force trauma to his head.Y/N is certain that he has been dead for 2-3 days, so she thinks that he isn’t responsible for the attack. Y/N took Cipro today so she’ll be fine right?”

“We didn’t test the drug on this particular strain on a Cipro-ready subject, so we aren’t sure about it,” the General answered.

“It’s not helping the patients at the hospital,” Spencer mumbled, his eyes on the house as he tried to dial a number. He looked at Hotch’s phone ringing and watched with dread as his boss put it on speaker.

“(Y/N)?” Hotch answered.

“Hotch I really messed up this time.”

“Yes you did,” Spencer interrupted. “(Y/N) why the hell did you go in without backup?”

“Doesn’t matter now. We are sending in people so that they can take you to the hospital," Hotch ordered.

"No I won't," She answer back. "I can work the case here since I am already infected."

"Don't be stupid Y/N," Spencer cut in, and she could hear the anger in his voice.

"Look, I have a better chance at profiling who is responsible. There is evidence that Dr. Nichols had an assistant of some sort," Y/N countered back. Hotch resisted the urge to sigh and looked at Spencer with resigned eyes. "What do you have?" He asks, ignoring the sputtering from Spencer.

"He knew Dr. Nichols, there are two desks here. One is really messy and distorted while the other is clean and organized. There are also two sets of handwriting on the papers. There are instructions of basic lab techniques here so that means-"

"Dr. Nichols would already know that," the general interrupts, looking at Hotch with wide eyes. "He had a partner," Hotch confirms and the general leaves calling someone.

"There are papers with markings on it and it looks like it's a proposal of some sort,” Y/N starts to cough, and she pulls away from the phone. "Dr. Nichols is a paranoid because of his career, but he would open up for educational purpose right? However he wouldn't trust him enough to give him the cure, so it must be hidden somewhere here."

"Okay, we are sending people in Y/N so that you can go to the hospital," Hotch tries to order but she cuts in.

"Until we find the cure. It would be useless to go to the hospital anyway right now.”

“But-“

“My best chances of surviving is being here and finding the cure. I’ll go when we find the cure. I promise," She tries to assure them, but the coughing spree she has only agitated the men.

“Fine,” Hotch reluctantly agrees, and he cuts the call.

Spencer looks determined at Hotch. “I am going in," he tells with fire in his eyes. "I'll help them find the cure and find out who killed Dr. Nichols.”

"No," Hotch firmly stated. "We are already down one agent and we need all to focus on the profile right now. We will go back to the bureau and work there until we can get any leads."

"Hotch-" Morgan tries to say but Spencer beats to him.

"I am not leaving her right now!" Spencer yells and standing straight even with Hotch's glare.

“Hotch someone needs to be here with Y/N right now,” Morgan said, keeping a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. He shares a look with the older agent, nodding to show that Spencer won’t be much use if he will be back at the office. It’ll be better to keep him here, he thinks to himself.

“Fine,” Hotch reluctantly agrees. “Morgan and I will go back while you stay here and update us, Reid.” His eyes soften as he watches the young agent’s eyes are filled with fear. He can understand, after all, if he was in that position he probably would have done the same thing. With a pat on a shoulder, he walks to the car.

“Call us kid,” Morgan tells him. “We’ll get through this. Y/N is strong.”

Spencer doesn’t respond verbally but gives a tense nod and walks away. Morgan stays for a moment, conflicted and worried, before taking a deep breath and walking towards Hotch.

They all needed to do their jobs. Even at the cost of one of their own.

….

Y/N knew that she was getting worse. She kept on having coughing fits that left breathless, and she couldn’t have that because she had a hard time breathing. Sweat soaked her clothes, her hair damp and sticking out at odd places, and she felt drained. It was getting harder to focus and to breathe, yet she refused the narcotics when Dr. Kimura arrived in her red suit followed by her team.

“I feel fine. I want to hold off until we find the cure,” she lied. “Dr. Nichols was paranoid, so that means that he hid the cure somewhere only he would know. So check for personal items or anything that doesn’t stand out as a place to hide something.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any narcotics?” Dr. Kimura gently asks, her voice pinched in worry.

“I am fine,” she repeats, even though she feels like she is going to fall down and her lungs will burst any moment. She looks away when her phone rings, and with a nod to the doctor she turns her back to answer the call.

“Hello.”

“Y/N,” it was Spencer, and she had never heard him so desperate. She clears her throat in an attempt to not coughing and tries to blink away the tears.

"Hey," She answered back, her voice soft.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked, his eyes tearing up.

“Not bad,” She lied she knew it was useless.

“Y/N,” He tried to reprimand, but his voice shook.

“Is anyone with you?”

“Yeah, Rossi and Prentiss are here with me.”

“Good. I am so sorry Spence. I am so sorry to do this to you,” Y/N said, tears streaming down by now. Her legs gave out and she collapsed. Her coughs started to get worse and she couldn’t a response to Spencer’s worried calls.

“I am fine,” Y/N instinctively said.

“No, you are not.”

“I am going to die Spence.”

“No you are not,” Spencer forcefully said, his hands shaking. He wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t let that happen.

“Spencer, can you do me a favor?” Y/N asks, and when he doesn’t the response she continues anyway. She needs to tell this. “Can you tell my parents that I am sorry and I love them? I know that we can never tell anyone about this case, but tell my parents that I am sorry for every single missed call and for not meeting them as much as I could. Tell them that thank you for everything and I love them so much. Can you please do that?"

“I won’t need to because you’ll do that when we get out,“ Spencer said, his voice tight as tears poured down his face.

“Please, Spencer. Please.”

“Okay. Fine I will.”

"Can you promise me another thing?"

"Anything."

"Promise me that you won't shut yourself from others. You'll talk to Derek or someone if you are going through tough times okay? And I won't be there-"

"Stop. You'll be fine. We'll find the unsub and the cure and you'll be fine and everything is going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen alright?"

"But you need to know that you are one of the best parts of my life. I didn't think it was possible for me to fall in love with someone until I met you. You make me feel safe and you have shown me what love truly feels like. Thank you, Spencer, for everything. I love you so much-"

"Stop. This feels like a goodbye, which it shouldn't be. You are going to be fine, I'll yell at you later for putting yourself in such danger, and then we'll go somewhere for vacation."

"Yeah?” Her voice is soft. Too soft. “Where will we go?"

"Somewhere far away from here at least. Maybe for a week, but definitely for a weekend. We'll go to the beach or we'll go to Disneyland. We both never been there so it'll be new and exciting."

"That does sound great,” She tells him, her mind already imaging a fantasy.

"Yes, it does. No cases and no interruptions, and we'll switch off our phones if we have to. We’ll sleep the entire time if you want, or just sit in the bed and eat everything. Whatever you want, but it will just you and me."

“Ms. Y/N,” Dr. Kimura calls her with an inhaler in hand. “You said something personal item that wouldn’t stand out, so what about his inhaler?”

“That would make sense,” Y/N tries to stand up, but her legs gave out the second she tried. Dr. Kimura rushes to hold the falling woman and her eyes get wide when she notices the slow breathing. She hears someone shouting and notices the phone on the floor. She instinctively notices the cut on Y/N’s hand and with an urgency, she barks to her team to bring in a stretcher, and quickly they are able to wheel her out of the house.

Spencer notices the sudden urgency in the air and runs when he sees the stretcher being taken in. He is blocked by the security to keep distance for his safety but he couldn’t hear anything when he saw Y/N on the stretcher. She looked pale, the bags under her eyes looked distinctly worse and her beautiful hair was dull.

She looked like she was dead, and he knew that it would haunt him forever.

“Y/N,” Spencer screamed and resisted the guards who were pushing him back.

“Dr. Reid,” the urgency in Dr. Kimura’s voice brings his attention to her. “We are taking her to the hospital and we think we found the cure.”

“Reid,” Prentiss gently called out, and Spencer had forgotten that she was even there with Rossi. He turns to her, and her heart breaks at his lost and confused look. “Let’s go to the hospital okay?”

He doesn’t say much as Rossi gently nudges him along with Prentiss to their car, both worried at how non-responsive the genius was.

As soon as they get to reach the hospital, however, they get called to be somewhere immediately. So with regretful words and hesitate steps, they leave Spencer in the waiting room while they both are worried about their fellow teammate.

Spencer is barely listening to Rossi as he explained what’s been happening, all he could think about was Y/N’s still body. He doesn’t even realize he’s been crying when he feels someone brushing his cheek. He snaps to his right to see JJ sitting beside him, her eyes red and lips trembling.

“I can’t lose her JJ,” He whispers, the walls breaking as he sobs onto her shoulder. After everything he’s been through, he had thought that having Y/N in his life was too good to be true. He lost so many people before; his dad, his mom to schizophrenia, Gideon, Elle. He can’t lose Y/N now.

…

Y/N walks up to the sound of a beep and something on her hand. It only takes her a second to realize that the beep was the heart monitor. She slowly opens her eyes, the lights making her squint. She turns to her side and sees someone holding her hand, and with a small smile, she realizes that it is Spencer.

“I see that you are awake.”

Dr. Kimura is standing beside the bed and was looking at her with a genuine smile. Beside her, Morgan was standing, a cup in his hand. His face showed the relief that he was feeling, his smile wide across his cheeks.

“What happened?” Y/N groggily asked, blinking sleep away.

“The cure was in the inhaler, we got the unsub, the remaining victims survived and you are going to be okay,” Morgan revealed with a smile.

“You were asleep for two days, and the results of your tests show that you are fine. We’ll like to keep you here for few more days to be sure, but otherwise everything is looking great,” Dr. Kimura also added.

Y/N sighed in relief until she realized something. “I slept for two days?”

“And pretty boy over there was with you for every second,” Morgan said teasingly. Y/N didn’t mind though, turning her eyes to the sleeping man. She slightly tightened her hold, but something that Dr. Kimura said made her think.

“Two days? What happened with the unsub?”

“That’s been taken care. You don’t need to be worried about that now,” Dr. Kimura assured her. “All you should be thinking about is resting. Your body has gone through a lot.”

“And I don’t even think about getting out the bed now,” a voice said. They all turned to see Spencer awake now, but his eyes were on Y/N. Anyone could see the relief and gratitude in his eyes, to see Y/N smiling at him.

“Hey love,” Y/N whispered, her smile growing wider when he kisses her hand and takes it in both of his hands. They both don’t notice that Morgan and Dr. Kimura had silently left, leaving the two in the room by themselves.

Spencer’s eyes tear up when he sees how tired Y/N looks. “I am okay,” Y/N said, knowing what he is thinking.

“I know,” he whispered back, resting her hand on his cheek. “I did mean what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“We’ll go somewhere, just us. I’ll talk to Hotch; I am sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Really? We’ll go to the beach?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

“We will,” He promises. The ring in his pocket feels lighter than ever.

#my work #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds AU #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #Penelope Garcia #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi

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fyesnatashalyonne · 5 years

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my S7 hopes, dreams, wildest expectations:

-justice for taystee 😭

-release for blanca- this season is going to hit closer to home than ever and I already know imma cry so much. Fuck ICE

-isn’t ms Claudette supposed to be in MAX?! we hear about the nun & even Stella’s disappearance is mentioned but not ms Claudette?!

-Suzanne NEEDS to clear up how everything went down. Daya got life for killing Humps but Suzanne knows it was Maureen (who is dead anyway right so why not give her up? Also would love to know what Maureen was in for that had caputo so intrigued). Suzanne could also give testimony as a witness to corroborate with Cindy that Taystee didn’t kill Piscatella since she saw the guilty AF stormtroopers bring him down there

-I know aleida is a shit show but I want her to get her kids back

-Alex to clear up Lolly’s sentence - they were in self defense and I guess it’s too late but I wish they had just told someone what happened right away. The cell phone linked him to kubra so wouldn’t that have given them evidence?

-Justice for poussey: they got all these nonviolent women locked up but trigger happy bayley is still out there... I don’t care that it was an accident, he needs to serve penance for what happened. Even he knows it.

-Closure w/ bennet like I don’t really need him to come back but I’d like a peak at what he’s doing???

-duh of course I want to see Maritza & boo and the other girls in Ohio. Shouldn’t the girls who had guards locked up and the nazi ones get extra time instead of red maybe...?

-screen time for Selenis leyva she blew me away the last couple seasons & I need more Gloria

-where is Danny Pearson did the writers forget about him or ... ?

-MOST IMPORTANTLY OF COURSE: Happiness for Nicky Nichols. With Lorna or not, I don’t care, just let my baby be happy pleeeeease

Season 7 in reality:

-based on the trailer we know they will be plenty of vauseman ok so no need to worry about that

-angst all around (just an educated guess here ok I don’t know any spoilers)

-and as for closure on any of these things ummmm

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winterwriter8845 · 7 years

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I Can Kiss Away the Pain: Chapter 9

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

***Italics is when she’s in the coma***

Raven's POV

Bucky was holding my hand, stroking it with his thumb.

"Bucky?"

He didn't hear me. Oh, how I wanted out of this coma. I knew I was the one who brought it upon myself, but I didn't realize I had a family until the first day I was in the coma. I wanted to tell them why I did it, but they can't hear me. I just want to be with Bucky again.

"Raven, fight it," a voice I recognized said. It was Valerie. "You have so much to experience. You have a family here with the Avengers. You have someone who loves you a lot, who will someday become the love of your life. You have to fight it, for Bucky. Please stop grieving over me. I'm happy now. It's not smart to dwell on the past. I know my brother hasn't contacted you in over a year, but he'll come through one day. Please, move on."

"But I don't want to! You were my best friend."

Her voice was fading. "Please, move on. You will be happy that way." She faded all the way, forcing me to wake up.

I opened my eyes and was greeted by a white light blinding me. Then my vision focused, and I was in an infirmary. There was someone holding my hand, and I looked over to see Bucky. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had been crying.

I squeezed his hand. "Bucky?"

His teary eyes shot up to look at mine, and they were filled with joy. He started to cry again, but this time it was out of joy, and I started to cry with him. "Dr. Cho! She's awake!"

An Asian doctor, I assume was Dr. Cho, walked over with a clip board. She checked to see if I was stable enough to get up go back to my room, and I was. My hand was bandaged, and I wasn't in my clothes; I was in a hospital gown. There was a pair of clothes folded up on the table beside me. I looked around. There was a bouquet of different colored roses in a vase on the table, there were healing gifts that didn't look like they were of this world, and there were balloons and stuffed animals and a frick ton of cards that sat on near the table in a group.

"It's good to have you back," Dr. Cho said, smiling at me.

Bucky let go of my hand and grabbed my clothes off the table. I swung my legs over the bed and got up. I took the clothes from him, and he turned around to give some privacy to let me change. I slipped on the clothes, a pair of black skinny jeans and a white, long sleeve sweater with a black heart in the middle of the chest, and the tip of it reached down to just above my belly button. I recognized the clothes because this was an outfit Bucky had picked out for me.

I grabbed his hand once I was done, and he turned around. He kept his arm around me as we walked to my room. We sat down on the bed, and he pulled me down with him. I snuggled into his chest as tears came to my eyes. He tilted my chin up to make me look at him. He wiped a few tears away with his thumb.

"It's okay. You're awake and safe."

"But it's not okay. I almost didn't wake from it. I was planning to give up from the beginning until you talked to me. You pulled me, with the help of Valerie, out from it."

He sniffled and wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me closer. "It's okay now. Just don't pull a stunt like that again."

"I won't ever. In fact, I'm not going to drink anymore. I mean I might drink a sip of beer or wine or a shot once in awhile, but nothing as strong as Polish vodka."

He nodded in relief. "I was so worried that you wouldn't wake up. I never left your side. When Tony woke me and told me that you were in a coma, I ran to you, and I broke down when I saw you."

I took his hands in mine, stroking them with my thumb. "I know. I heard and saw everything. When I was in the coma, Valerie came to me and told to fight it, to wake up, because I had a family here and someone who loves me. And she told me to move on from her. So I woke up, and she was the last thing I saw when I was in it."

"And she's right; you do have a family here. Stark was torn up about it, we all were. I've never seen him like this, and I'm pretty sure he's never seen me like this before. And you do have people who love you. We're all you need. We'll protect you, especially me, from everything."

Then I remember back to when he was talking to me. "So you love me?" I grinned at him.

"I..uh.." He kept stuttering then came out. "Yes."

I smiled at him. "Good, because I didn't know how you felt about me. I've had feelings for you since the day you took me to get my stuff at my apartment. That's what Tony was talking about when he said I was going to come back and tell you myself that I love you. Before I slipped into the coma, I told Tony to tell you that I love you. I'm just afraid to fall in love with someone because everyone that I've ever loved has hurt me in some way."

"Well, I promise I'll never hurt you. I would never think of it in a thousand years." He leaned down until our lips met. At first, it was just a peck, then my lips parted, begging for entrance, and he complied. Our lips moved in sync, and he tangled his hand in my hand. I wrapped my hand around his neck. After about a minute, he pulled back, gasping for breath, as was I. He leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. "I think we should wait to tell the gang that we're a thing until Stark figures it out. Then he'll go crazy." He opened his eyes, his ice blue eyes full of life.

I got up, remembering something, and walked to my bookbag. I opened a pocket and pulled out my two blood stained razors. I held them in my hand as I walked back over to him. "Here." I placed them in his hand. "I don't need these. I don't want to ever see them again. Get rid of them for all I care. In fact, I hope you do. I thought they were my friends when I didn't have any, but all they do is cause pain for you and I."

He stared at them for a moment then looked up at me with a smile. "Thank you, Raven. I'll get rid of them. I'm happy you've started a clean slate for yourself. And when I saw the cuts and scars, it pained me to see you like that." He slid them into his pocket.

I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around him, curling into him. He kissed me, just a peck before I got up. "I need to go check my emails," I said. I walked out of the room, with Bucky following, and walked down the hall to the elevator. The tile floor was cold against my bare feet. I reached the study/ computer lab level, and my feet were greeted by soft, red carpet. I walked over to a computer and sat down at it. Bucky sat down next to me. I turned it on and logged into my Gmail. I scrolled through my emails and noticed there was one from the school board. I clicked on it. It read:

Dear Ms. Nichols,

It has come to our notice that you have been absent from school in a week and a half. We were notified by a friend of your's that you've been through some unfortunate events. And to our knowledge, you have an exceptional performance in your school work. If you can keep up your grades, make up your missing work, and attend some online class videos, then we will allow you to graduate. I hope you consider this opportunity.

Sincerely,

Jude West, the Leader of the New York City Board of Education

I looked at the Bucky, smile in my lips. "Did you do this?"

He shook his head. "Well, I knew about it, but it was Stark's idea."

"I'll be back." I got out of the chair and ran to the elevator. "Jarvis, where's Tony?"

"He's in the lab with Mr. Banner and Mr. Rogers, Miss. And it's good to see you up and well."

"Thank you, Jarvis. Can you take me to Tony?"

"It'd be my pleasure."

A minute later, the doors opened, and I walked out into the lab. Tony was holding a metal baton up, talking to Steve and Bruce. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him. "Thank you, Tony, for talking to the school board."

He sat the baton down on the table and wrapped his arms around me. "Anything for you, kiddo. It's so good to see you up." He looked at me. "Have you been crying?" He asked me. He must've noticed my puffy, red eyes.

I nodded. "It's kind of emotional when you wake up from a coma and find out the Winter Soldier is in love with you."

"Wait. WHAA????" Tony was bewildered. "Do you love him? Please tell me you do because Racky needs to happen."

I laughed. "I don't know," I lied. "I've been thinking about it. I'm just afraid to fall in love with someone again because I've ever only been hurt by the people I love."

"Well, he'll never hurt you," Steve said.

"He was a wreck when you were in the coma. He never left your side," Bruce said.

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

"He loves you more than you'll ever know," Steve said.

Oh, trust me, I know. "Well, I'll leave you guys back to whatever you were doing before." I walked out of the lab and into the elevator. I returned to the computer lab and sat down back at the computer.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #fanfiction #love #marvel #avengers #writers on tumblr

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fathersonholygore · 7 years

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A&E’s Bates Motel Season 5, Episode 6: “Marion” Directed by Phil Abraham Written by Carlton Cuse & Kerry Ehrin

* For a recap & review of the previous episode, “Dreams Die First” – click here * For a recap & review of the next episode, “Inseparable” – click here Marion Crane (Rihanna) is just pulling in to the Bates Motel, where Sam Loomis (Austin Nichols) once took her. And waiting, as always, is Norman Bates (Freddie Highmore). We’re in prime Hitchcock-Bloch Psycho territory now! In checks Marion to a quaint room, and Norman, he seems to recognise her, or something about her. He puts her right in Room 1, too. Y’know, to keep an eye on her real close, through his nifty little peephole. But Marion’s also hungry. And so we’re set up for that classic Janet Leigh and Anthony Perkins sandwich scene, just slightly different. One of the reasons I love the series, the adaptation is so snappy. Always familiar yet also fresh. Problem is that mother (Vera Farmiga) comes around, criticising, trying to make all of Norman’s choices. He’s accepted, as much as he can, that he is “insane” and forgets things, he dissociates from himself. He and mother are at odds, after he discovered her supposed secret. So, he’s accepted his insanity. He knows she isn’t there, but… she is, sort of. He still sees her because of Marion’s arrival. Mother disapproves of attractive women traipsing around her son. What we’re seeing here is a devastatingly sad plea from the inner part of Norman, the part that doesn’t want to be crazy. He insists on proving that mother isn’t real, which is only going to bring Norma out in worse, more full force. Norman: “But the world is full of mad people who function, many of whom are heads of state, so I think I can manage running a motel.” Emma (Olivia Cooke) reveals to Dylan (Max Thieriot) she found out Norma died, an apparent suicide. However, her estranged son doesn’t believe it. Despite her troubles Norma was a fighter, against all odds. It doesn’t surprise me that others would be suspicious. At the motel, Norman brings Marion a sandwich. They sit in the back of his office, with the retro decor and the taxidermy. They talk a little, about the taxidermy; he explains it’s a way to honour the animals. Creepy, no matter how you cut it, Norman. Then eventually they come to talk of family. He says he lives with his mother. She lost her mother early on, her father didn’t want to keep her. A life on her own, essentially. He ruminates on love, caring for others – are the ones you love really the people you think they are, deep down? Norman: “It‘s hard to be lonely, but it‘s also hard to love people.” Sam can’t get away, unable to tell Marion he’s married to Madeleine (Isabelle McNally). But he has other problems. His wife, in spite of being angry with Norman for his intrusion on their marriage, isn’t happy that he’s been stepping out. And Marion’s still left in that motel.

Tsk, tsk, Norman. Naughty boy. Using that peephole to spy on his guest as she undresses. Mother’s not going to like this, not one bit. His internal struggle is so disturbingly realised visually, audibly, as he tries not to go insane listening to mother whisper in his ear. All the while Marion steps into the shower. Uh oh. But there’s no Bernard Herrmann score, no stabbing. Marion decides to go to reception, she wants to see the registry. To find Sam. Now, Norman knows where he’s seen her before – right there at the motel with her clandestine boyfriend. Likewise she finds out about the dude’s wife, even if she doesn’t want to believe it right away. Then Norman gives up the address, and she sees for herself. An interesting, exciting twist to the Hitchcock plot we know so well. Marion’s pissed. She smashes up Sam’s car for good measure before heading out, which puts Sam on the bad side of both his wife and mistress. Serves him right. I wonder where this mess is headed. That night Dylan calls Norman, they argue over what happened to Norma. “You never knew her that well,” the younger brother scolds. I can see Dylan eventually coming back to White Pine Bay, he knows something isn’t right. In the meantime, Norman’s still got mother kicking around making his mind a tough place to be. Rather than let mother make supper, he makes his own. He tries his hardest to deny her presence. She throws the place into disarray until he admits she’s real. He’s lost ultimate control, and I don’t think there’s any going back. Not at this juncture in his psychosis.

At the motel Marion’s distressed, and Norman goes to see her. He tries comforting her what little he can. She’s double fucked because her boyfriend is a piece of shit, plus she also stole from her boss(/his client). Maybe triple fucked. Considering she’s sitting on a bed next to Norman; not the rebound man she’d like to get involved with, ideally. And unfortunately for her, in the predicament between Sam and her embezzlement, she’s like a perfect victim for psycho Norman. But the good part left in him, he tries to rush her away. He knows mother is lurking. Then off into the night goes Ms. Crane. And Sam comes looking at the motel, to find an empty room. She even tossed her cell out the window off the highway, so he can’t reach her. In the back of the office, Norma talks to Norman about his father, and then they get real. As psychosis to psycho. Mother was a tough front against things he “couldn‘t stand to feel.” But she says that now, he must feel those things. Knowledge is a double-edged sword. After she indoctrinates him to the truth of his life, Norman is convinced that Sam Loomis is a bad, bad man. Just like his father. Norma: “We are two parts of the same person. Both are very real.”

Well, looks like we’ve found our new shower scene. Norman goes into Room 1 while Sam showers. And while Roy Orbison’s “Crying” plays, rather than the iconic Herrmann score, a semi-lucid Norman stabs him to death. Blood spraying. Roy wailing in the background. Sam pulls the shower curtain down, too. What a magnificent, sick adaptation! Wow. Norman: “Oh, mother. What have I done?”

This is now my second favourite episode of the series. Downright fantastic stuff! I keep saying the adapted writing is spectacular. Ehrin and Cuse pull out all stops here. Truly great work, all around. Love how we thought Marion was going to die as she did in the film, then they switched it up perfectly. I can’t get over it, honestly. Excited for “Inseparable” next week. Bates Motel – Season 5, Episode 6: “Marion” A&E's Bates Motel Season 5, Episode 6: "Marion" Directed by Phil Abraham Written by Carlton Cuse & Kerry Ehrin…

#Bates Motel #Bernard Herrmann #Freddie Highmore #Marion Crane #Norman Bates #Rihanna #Roy Orbison #Sam Loomis #Season 5 #Shower #Vera Farmiga

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maxwellyjordan · 6 years

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Thursday round-up

Court-watchers did not take a holiday yesterday from the Supreme Court nomination drama. For the Associated Press, Catherine Lucey and others report that President Donald Trump has now spoken with seven candidates for Justice Anthony Kennedy’s soon-to-be-vacant seat and that “Vice President Mike Pence has met with some of the contenders” as well. For The Wall Street Journal, Peter Nicholas and Louise Radnofsky report that “[f]ollowing a brisk round of interviews Monday and Tuesday, the three front-runners at this late stage in the president’s search are all U.S. appeals court judges: Brett Kavanaugh of Maryland, of the D.C. Circuit; Raymond Kethledge of Michigan, of the Sixth Circuit; and Amy Coney Barrett of Indiana, of the Seventh Circuit.” For The Hill, Brett Samuels reports that Trump “on Tuesday night promised a ‘home run’ pick for his Supreme Court nominee after continuing interviews with potential candidates earlier in the day.” At Balkinization, Mark Tushnet questions the value of the presidential interview to the selection process.

The Center for Public Integrity tracks financial-disclosure forms for the nominee’s on the president’s list. At Empirical SCOTUS, Adam Feldman offers relevant statistics about five front-runners. At Keen News Service, Lisa Keen looks at where the five “stand on LGBT-related concerns.” At the Yale Journal on Regulation’s Notice & Comment blog, Chris Walker collects “thoughtful blog posts” analyzing the top five’s views on administrative-law. The magic number is six at The Daily Signal, where Elizabeth Slattery and John Malcolm highlight a sextet of top candidates, who “all would be great additions to the Supreme Court.”

In an op-ed at RealClear Politics, Scott Jennings declares Judge Amul Thapar to be “a dream choice” for conservatives. My profile of Thapar for this blog is here.

Fantasy Scotus gives the edge to Judge Amy Barrett. Amy Howe profiles Barrett for this blog. At Balkinization, Mark Tushnet considers the article about judging by Catholics that was so controversial at Barrett’s confirmation hearings. At Slate, Ruth Graham looks at People of Praise, the religious group to which Barrett belongs. In an op-ed for The Washington Post, Ruth Marcus argues that out of all the prospective candidates, Barrett is “the one who seems most inclined to undo Kennedy’s work and overturn Roe as completely and quickly as possible.”

For The Washington Post, Robert Costa and Josh Dawsey report that “[a]n intensifying debate over Judge Brett M. Kavanaugh, a front-runner in President Trump’s search for a Supreme Court nominee, gripped Republicans on Tuesday, with conservative critics highlighting past rulings and his links to GOP leaders while his allies — including inside the White House — forcefully defended him.” At the Election Law Blog, Rick Hasen suggests that “a Justice Kavanaugh could well vote with a new SCOTUS majority to hold that laws effectively limiting foreign influence in our elections violate the First Amendment.” For The New York Times, Adam Liptak remarks that “the stark contrast” between Kavanaugh and Barrett “reflects the division on the right between the conservative legal establishment, which is hostile to government regulation and the administrative state, and social conservatives, who are focused on issues like abortion and religious freedom.”

For The Washington Post, Michael Scherer reports that “[l]iberal political strategists hope to block President Trump’s next Supreme Court nominee” by focusing on two Republican senators, Sen. Lisa Murkowski of Alaska and Sen. Susan Collins of Maine. For Politico, Elana Schor reports that “[g]rass-roots groups on the left are planning a massive mobilization next week against President Donald Trump’s Supreme Court nominee — pressing senators to oppose the pick as soon as it’s announced.” At The Nation, John Nichols identifies a “calculus for blocking Trump’s Court pick.” At The Hill, Lydia Wheeler reports that “[s]tare decisis, the Latin term that means courts should ‘stand by things decided,’ has jumped to the forefront of the Senate debate over President Trump’s next pick to the Supreme Court.” At CNN, Joan Biskupic identifies two other themes that have already emerged in the confirmation process “[e]ven without a choice yet from President Donald Trump”: “Russia and Roe.” But in an op-ed for The Hill, Jonathan Turley pushes back against the suggestion that the Russia investigation is relevant, maintaining that “[w]hoever Trump’s nominee may be, it is the nominee, not the nominating president, who should be the focus of a confirmation vote.”

At Slate, Hasen assesses the effect of replacing Kennedy on voting-rights cases, predicting that “issues from voting rights to campaign finance [will] get far worse.” Also at Slate, Dahlia Lithwick and Mark Joseph Stern write that “[p]rogressives worried about losing Supreme Court protections for voting rights, reproductive rights, LGBTQ equality, affirmative action, and a whole lot more are now turning hopeful eyes to Susan Collins,” but they consider any faith in her misplaced. And in an op-ed for The New York Times, Linda Greenhouse asks, “If hostility to the Supreme Court’s 1973 precedent is a deal-breaker for Ms. Collins, how will she learn what the nominee really thinks? How will we the people know?”

At the Brennan Center for Justice, John Kowal observes that “replacing a very conservative justice with an even more conservative one won’t change the outcome in most cases.” But for The New York Times, Liam Stack and Elizabeth Dias report that, although much reaction to the Kennedy retirement has focused on the future of Roe v. Wade, “[t]he prospect of a more conservative justice, though, has L.G.B.T. rights groups worried about legal challenges from conservative groups that oppose gay marriage, who may see an opportunity to challenge rulings that have established its legality.”

At FiveThirtyEight, Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux looks at Kennedy’s jurisprudence, concluding that his “sweeping rhetoric on gay rights, combined with a handful of key votes with the liberals in controversial cases, overshadows his track record of conservative rulings on a wide range of other questions.” At Slate, Mark Joseph Stern maintains that “[p]rogressives who are surprised by Kennedy’s retirement bought into the myth that the justice, who occasionally swung left on key controversies like abortion and gay rights, was a moderate who dabbled in liberalism,” but that “[p]ut simply, Kennedy retired under Trump because he’s happy to leave his legacy in Trump’s hands.”

In an op-ed for The Orange County Register, Elizabeth Slattery argues that in National Institute of Family and Life Advocates v. Becerra, in which the court held that California’s Reproductive FACT Act, which requires crisis pregnancy centers to make disclosures, including about the availability of abortions, likely violates the First Amendment, “the court made clear that so-called ‘professional’ speech is simply that – speech – and it must be accorded the same level of respect granted to other protected activities.” At ThinkProgress, Zack Ford maintains that conservatives hope NIFLA “will be their key to overturning the laws in 13 states banning conversion therapy for minors.” Additional commentary on NIFLA comes from Jay Hobbs at CNS News.

Briefly:

In an episode of Bloomberg Law’s Cases and Controversies podcast, Kimberly Robinson and Jordan Rubin “discuss this term’s divisive nature, and what’s likely to come next.”

At Medium, Nick Lum points out that the South Dakota attorney general, who represented the state in South Dakota v. Wayfair, which cleared the way for states to tax internet purchases, admitted in an interview that he “has not been following the existing law by paying tax on his internet purchases.” [Disclosure: Goldstein & Russell, P.C., whose attorneys contribute to this blog in various capacities, is among the counsel to the petitioner in this case.]

Commentary on Masterpiece Cakeshop v. Colorado Civil Rights Commission, in which the court ruled in favor of a baker who refused on religious grounds to make a cake for a same-sex wedding, comes from Jeremy Tedesco at Colorado Politics.

In an op-ed for The Gospel Coalition, Barronelle Stutzman, a florist who declined on religious grounds to design flowers for a same-sex wedding, and whose case the Supreme Court sent back for reconsideration in light of Masterpiece Cakeshop, asserts that “[i]f the government can require us to create art and participate in sacred events, or take all we own and destroy us for declining to submit to its demands, then we aren’t really free.”

At ThinkProgress, Ian Millhiser is less than thrilled to find that “Justice Clarence Thomas is the most important legal thinker of his generation, and the most significant judicial appointment of the last forty years.”

In an op-ed for The Washington Post, Katrina vanden Heuvel argues that Janus v. American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees, Council 31, in which the court held that an Illinois law allowing public-sector unions to charge nonmembers for collective-bargaining activities violates the First Amendment, is “part of a multifaceted, unrelenting assault on unions to weaken a central pillar of progressive reform.” [Disclosure: Goldstein & Russell, P.C., whose attorneys contribute to this blog in various capacities, is among the counsel on an amicus brief in support of the respondents in this case.]

At The George Washington Law Review’s On the Docket blog, Richard Pierce discusses the implications of Lucia v. Securities and Exchange Commission, in which the court held that SEC administrative law judges are ‘officers of the United States’ within the meaning of the appointments clause, who have to be appointed by the president, a court or a department head.

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