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mariacallous · 5 months

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When Evgenia Kara-Murza’s husband was arrested in Russia in April 2022, she immediately made it her mission to continue his work from abroad. A longtime anti-Putin dissident, her husband — Russian opposition politician Vladimir Kara-Murza — had been speaking out publicly against Moscow’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Faced with charges ranging from violating wartime censorship to high treason, Vladimir spent a year in pre-trial detention and was sentenced to 25 years in prison in April 2023. Then, in September, the prison authorities transferred him out of Moscow just days before his 42nd birthday. Kara-Murza’s lawyers managed to locate him at a maximum-security prison in the Siberian city of Omsk, where he has been placed in a punishment cell indefinitely. On the sidelines of the Halifax International Security Forum, Evgenia Kara-Murza sat down with Eilish Hart, the editor of Meduza’s The Beet newsletter, to discuss Vladimir’s experience in the Russian prison system, the possibility of a “different” Russia, and the importance of victory on Ukraine’s terms. This interview has been edited and abridged for length and clarity.

In September, your husband was transferred out of Moscow to serve a 25-year prison sentence in Siberia. But initially it was unclear where he had been sent. What were the circumstances surrounding his transfer?

In Russia, when we say that we live in a Kafkaesque reality, it is true. And not only is it Kafkaesque, but it is also a very nasty, evil reality. Vladimir was sent on a transfer two days before his birthday, because I’m sure the authorities knew how many letters of support, encouragement, and solidarity he would receive — including, of course, letters from his own kids. And that is the evil nature of the current regime: They have to break a person by depriving him or her of any means to know that they are loved, cherished, respected, and admired.

So yes, he was sent on a transfer a couple of days before his birthday and that was a very worrying period for us because in Russia, the transfer is one of the most dangerous periods in the life of a political prisoner. A transfer can take months; there is no law that defines the length of a transfer. And the way transfer happens is the person is moved from the [pre-trial] detention center to the place where he or she would be serving their sentence, passing through all these other detention centers along the way. In each of these centers, a person can spend days, or weeks, or months, and the authorities are not required by law to provide any information about a person’s whereabouts, the state of their health, or their needs, to anyone: neither lawyers nor family members. So the authorities can basically make a person disappear for a very long period of time. We know of such cases when people were just lost.

I believe it is crucial to keep the name of the person who is being transferred in the public eye and continuously demand that the authorities provide information about a person’s whereabouts. It helps, like it helped in the case of Andrey Pivovarov, who has now served over three years in prison for being affiliated with a so-called “undesirable organization,” the Open Russia Foundation, and for just wanting to run in the elections and wanting a different future for Russia, just like my husband.

It was very worrying to know that Vladimir is one-on-one with those people who tried to kill him twice in the past. We used all the means available and, thanks to the amazing work of our lawyers, we were able to locate Vladimir very quickly, and we tried right away to establish contact with him just to make sure that he’s alive.

How often are you in communication with Vladimir now? What do you know about the conditions and the treatment he’s experiencing in prison?

Upon arrival at the strict regime prison colony, he was put in a punishment cell right away. That happened on September 21 and he has not left that cell since. Moreover, he was able to let me know that the neighboring cells in the block where he’s being held were also emptied. So he’s basically being held alone, in solitary confinement, in the punishment block of a maximum-security prison colony in the middle of Siberia. A Kara-Murza can only be sentenced to a quarter of a century in Siberia, it seems; it comes with the name.

Vladimir is being held in a cell that measures three meters by one and a half meters [roughly 10 feet by five feet], with a bed that is fixed to the wall from morning till night, and a backless stool is the only piece of furniture in the cell. He has no phone call rights, no visitation rights. He still gets to see his lawyer once a week, or once every couple of weeks, so the lawyer can make sure that he’s alive and as well as can be [expected]. He gets an hour walk every day, during which he does not see anyone either. He gets an hour and a half of writing or reading a day, and when these 90 minutes are up, everything is taken from him. So if he receives any letters through the prison correspondence system, those letters are brought to him together with pen and paper. He gets to read them and respond to as many as he can in those 90 minutes and that’s it.

So if you count an hour walk, an hour and a half of writing, and eight hours of sleep, that leaves him with 13.5 hours of absolute void in that cell. No human communication, no ability to do anything. He’s just sitting between these four walls.

Is Vladimir in solitary because he’s being quarantined or because of some alleged infraction (like we’re seeing with Alexey Navalny, for example)? Is there a chance that he will be put in with a general prison population?

No, there is absolutely no such chance and that was made clear to him when he was brought to that prison colony. The authorities basically told him — it was never put on paper, of course, they would not put something like this on paper — but they let him know that they would not allow him out of solitary confinement because they didn’t want him to “contaminate” other prisoners with his views. And of course, knowing Vladimir, they were sort of right, because he would.

Of course, there were “violations” that were used as pretexts. Once it was an unbuttoned shirt, another time it was a pillow that was not put on the bed in the correct way. (I don’t know what the correct way was supposed to be.) And the last infraction was [failing to get out of bed on time]. [Then] there were these disciplinary hearings and Vladimir was designated as a “consistent violator” of the rules of [detention] and he was officially put under “SUS,” that’s strogie uslovii soderzhania [“strict conditions of detention,” in Russian].

It didn't change much in his situation: he stayed in the same cell, the only difference is he was actually allowed another book (so he has the right to hold two books at the same time now). He is still serving his sentence in this punishment block and the “strict [conditions of detention”] are indefinite. Just as the prison authorities told him, they will not allow him out of solitary confinement.

You know, when I want to illustrate why they’re afraid of him “contaminating” the minds of others, I always remember the story that Vladimir wrote to me about at the beginning of his detention in Moscow. Initially he was put in a cell with five other guys, petty criminals, and they had a TV. Prison cells [in Russia] often have TVs in them because even behind bars, people have to be under constant influence of propaganda. Otherwise, minds begin clearing up quite quickly and people begin asking questions.

So Vladimir was sitting in the cell with five other guys; the TV, with propaganda news; and he had a book by [Soviet dissident] Vladimir Bukovsky. After a few weeks in that cell, they had switched to listening to concerts by the Philharmonic Orchestra, they had all read Bukovsky memoirs, and they were discussing the war in Ukraine and repressions in Russia. The authorities realized what had happened and moved Vladimir to a different cell right away, and they kept moving him until he was left alone in his cell. And then he was transferred to the strict regime prison colony.

Your husband suffers from a nerve disorder as a result of the two poisoning attacks on him in the past. What do you know about the current state of his health?

I know that his condition is not going to get better under the circumstances. I know that polyneuropathy is on the list of medical conditions that should prevent incarceration in the first place under Russian law — and there is a reason for that. It is considered a serious medical condition that could lead to paralysis.

Following these two poisoning attacks, Vladimir sustained peripheral nerve damage and he’s losing feeling in his extremities. In order to keep these symptoms under control, he has to do physical exercises regularly. He has to have fresh air, regular walks, and he had been able to keep these symptoms under control without medication before his imprisonment because he was leading a very active lifestyle. But because of his imprisonment in those punishment cells where people do not get opportunities for fresh air, walks, and exercise, his condition will deteriorate.

These punishment cells are actually used as a method of torture by the Russian authorities today. Alexey Gorinov has been in a punishment cell and he’s suffering from a [lung] condition. Alexey Navalny has not left a punishment cell for many months and he is also a survivor of an assassination [attempt] that must have had consequences for his health. Maria Ponomarenko, a Russian journalist, has been held in a punishment cell. Nikita Uvarov, a young boy, was placed in a punishment cell without any explanation given to his parents or his lawyers as to why this happened. Alexey Moskalev—the father of Masha Moskaleva who was imprisoned for refusing to condemn his daughter for making an anti-war drawing — was also put in a punishment cell. So the only conclusion one can make is that this is done deliberately and used as a method of torture.

Do you think there’s a possibility that Vladimir could be released through a prisoner exchange?

I believe that when we talk about those political prisoners, for whom it is a matter of life and death, all methods should be used to free these people. I’ve just mentioned a few of them, but there are others. There’s also Yevgeny Bestuzhev or Alexandra Skochilenko, who was just sentenced to seven years [in prison] and suffers from many medical conditions. She should not be kept behind bars.

Not only are we talking about human lives, but this would also be a powerful message of solidarity with those Russian citizens who refuse to be complicit in the crimes committed by the regime. By standing with these people and fighting for their release, the world would send a very powerful message to both Russian civil society and the Kremlin that it sees [an alternative]. And that is an important message because if we want to see Russia [become] a democracy one day, we need to do everything in our power to make sure that those people who are the faces of that different Russia survive this, so they can be there to rebuild the country from scratch.

Unlike the other people you’ve named, your husband is a dual citizen, he holds a British passport. Have the U.K. authorities been advocating for his release?

I was very grateful to the U.K. government for imposing targeted Magnitsky sanctions against Vladimir’s persecutors. It only surprises me a little that it was not the U.K. that was the leader in this, but it was actually Canada. Vladimir has been fighting for the introduction of the Magnitsky legislation since 2010, so using Magnitsky sanctions against his perpetrators is like — not fair justice; it’s not, they should be sitting in prison — but poetic justice, let’s say.

It also took the U.K. a year and actually the sentencing to make a statement about Vladimir’s illegal detention. Again, I am grateful that it eventually happened, but I don’t understand why it didn’t happen sooner.

As for more forceful advocacy, I know that the policy of the U.K. government for a very long time has been not to engage, which in my opinion, in the 21st century, is an absolutely unacceptable approach. Because whether they engage or not, the number of political prisoners and hostages taken by terrorist organizations and dictators around the world is growing. And by not engaging, the message they send to those people is, “Bad luck — you’re on your own.” This is absolutely unacceptable because we’re talking about a democratic state that should be interested in fighting for every single bearer of the U.K. passport.

I believe they absolutely will not be able to solve the problem by pretending it does not exist. The more responsible way would be actually admitting that the problem exists and, like Ambassador [Roger D.] Carstens suggested, creating a multilateral approach involving democracies around the world. In the cases of stolen Ukrainian kids or kids kidnapped by Hamas, we’re talking about the literal future of these countries. And when we talk about political prisoners — like in the case of my husband and so many Russian citizens who are sitting behind bars today — we’re very often talking about an alternative to the existing regime. So I believe that solving existing cases is absolutely crucial for tomorrow’s world. But the ultimate goal of such cooperation should be to come up with a set of instruments to prevent such practices from being used in the first place.

Do you still feel that there’s potential for a political alternative for Russia? Because the conventional wisdom around this question seems to be that people inside Russia don’t see an alternative to Putin or that the alternative could be someone worse, in the sense that they might be even more radical.

Well, if the alternative I talked about — all those Russian citizens who understand what’s happening and are trying to oppose it — if that part of Russian civil society is destroyed, then there will be no other alternative or there will be something worse than Vladimir Putin. So everything should be done to make sure that these people survive.

I’m not just talking about those political prisoners in Russia, but also about hundreds of thousands of Russian citizens who left the country because they do not want to be complicit in those crimes. I work with the Free Russia Foundation and we do everything to support and encourage Russian civil society activities [and] initiatives, and they are actually popping up everywhere. So we know that this alternative exists. But of course, it’s very much in the interests of Vladimir Putin to create this warped image of reality in which the entire Russian population is like this monolith that stands behind him in the war.

The fact that detentions continue on a daily basis, the fact that trials are ongoing, that such harsh sentences are being imposed, that torture is being used, and punitive psychiatry has made its return again, shows that there are so many people who protest and reject everything that’s happening. Yes, we do not see mass protests in Russia. In totalitarian countries, mass protests do not happen, and when they do, they end in bloodshed. The 2020 protests in Belarus led to bloodshed and now there are no mass protests in Belarus anymore. Does this mean that these people have just disappeared into thin air? No, they’re there. But conditions in both these countries, in both Russia and Belarus, are such that people cannot go outside en masse because they don’t see any means of changing the situation.

I believe that everything should be done to weaken the [Putin] regime, both from inside and outside of the country, by supporting Russian civil society and by supporting Ukraine’s war effort and encouraging its victory — not just maintaining the status quo, but its victory. Because I believe that this would weaken the regime, like the war in Afghanistan weakened the Soviet regime in the 1980s. By supporting Russian civil society, we can create conditions that would weaken the regime and when cracks appear, I'm sure that we will see these people in the streets.

Given the degree of repressions in Russia and the fact that there is a segment of the population that supports the war and/or Putin, many people believe that political change hinges entirely upon Ukraine’s victory and Russia suffering a military defeat. As such, they argue that supporting Ukraine is the best and the most important way to promote political change in Russia. How do you respond to that argument?

I do believe that victory on Ukraine’s terms is crucial. It’s not just that the Russian army has to leave all the occupied territories, there should be accountability: I’m talking about an international tribunal to bring [to justice] all those responsible for the act of aggression against Ukraine and also for war crimes committed by the Russian army there.

I believe that this would help open the eyes of the Russian population to what was being done. But of course, in order for us to make this information available to the population, which has not had access to one single independent TV channel since 2003, propaganda needs to be fought. And I believe that only when the regime actually collapses will we be able to proceed to this very long, tedious, and difficult process of treating this nation — because it’s not a healthy nation. Not after two decades of stolen elections and propaganda influence.

Yes, there is a part of Russian civil society that understands what’s happening. But there is this huge mass of people — and we don't know how many — who have been absolutely, utterly brainwashed. And working with that, we will need those public trials. We will need some process of lustration. We will need to disband the Russian security services. We will need to bring to accountability those propagandists who were fueling hatred and disinformation in society.

Do you have the impression that the international community no longer sees the potential for a “different” Russia?

Well, there are warning signs. The fact that Ukraine is increasingly being pushed towards some sort of negotiations is one such warning sign. Because if Ukraine is forced or coerced into “donating” part of its territory to Russia, then war will not stop. Vladimir Putin will regroup, he will strengthen his power in the country, and he will attack again in just a few years — and if it’s not Ukraine, it might be Moldova, it might be one of the Baltic states. He needs war to continue staying in power.

Ukraine being forced towards negotiations is a sign that the world is prepared to negotiate with a bully and an aggressor yet again. And I think that by now it should have become clear to the free world that the war of aggression against Ukraine itself is the result of over two decades of impunity and appeasement of Vladimir Putin. So how can we even talk about appeasing him yet again?

I think it bears repeating that if we want the region to live in peace and security, the only way to achieve that is through making Russia a democracy. As long as there is some kind of [autocratic] regime there, warmongering will continue, aggression will continue, repression inside [Russia] will continue. Yes, repression inside [the country] often does not bother anyone until there is aggression outside [its borders]. But aggression outside will continue, as well.

Vladimir Putin has shown time and again over the years that he will not stay within his borders: He invaded Georgia, he annexed Crimea, he bombed Syria — he will not stay within his borders. So I believe that there is this danger that the world, having gotten tired of the war and of supporting Ukrainian efforts, might be compelled to negotiate with Vladimir Putin again. And I just think that it bears repeating that then it will have to pay yet again for controlling the damage caused by another war that Vladimir Putin will launch in a few years.

I’m going to ask one last question, but it’s more so out of my own curiosity. What is your husband reading in prison, do you know?

I know that he re-read [Aleksander] Solzhenitsyn. I know that he re-read Bukovsky and Natan Sharansky. I think it helps. [Vladimir] knows the story of Soviet dissidents very well because he made a documentary about them [in 2005]. He knows — and knew — many of them personally. Many of them have passed away since then, like Natalya Gorbanevskaya, Yelena Bonner, Vladimir Bukovsky, and Viktor Fainberg. But some of them are still, thank God, living and well — like Natan Sharansky or Alexander Podrabinek — and Vladimir knows them all very well. And I know that to him, the fight of Soviet dissidents is one of the most hopeful pages of our modern history. It shows that a small bunch of people, armed only with the truth and the moral courage to tell the truth, can prevail in their opposition to this absolutely atrocious and seemingly all-powerful state machine.

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bonesandthebees · 2 years

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ok sd anon with the Official Long Message Reply

ohio conceptually is so fucking weird but turns out my fifth grade best friend who moved away after a year is also here so we have been hanging out so much it’s so great she came w me to a few poetry open mics

also oh god how was covid experience i still haven’t gotten it knock on wood

fully do not understand how i have gotten bitches. how. what’s happening. i made rock candy w two other interns a few days ago and we threw a couple packs of pedialyte in there

also also ! bigger vodka person than tequila

also thank you!!!! i’m out here for an engineering internship i actually gave my final presentation to senior leadership yesterday! plant manager + every department head were there to hear the interns present abt their projects and oh my fucking god i thought questions and comments were just a formality THEY WERE NOT. my thing was a software data organizational structure to optimize pulling up relevant equipment data (eg boiler pressure) bc previously you needed a very specific code to find Anything now you can look up vague phrases and find what you want. this system is my baby. i have categorized over 1600 pieces of data and associated them to the correct equipment and system.

ANYWAYS at one point a guy was like okay so a) how is this not already implemented everywhere and b) how do we turn this into a [company] global engineering standard. i am in Shock. also i think they hired me part time over the school year to do the same kind of work i’m doing right now! did not think i would end up basically a software consultant. also i am 20 why the fuck am i getting responsibility.

how has your summer been??? i feel like i have talked in Detail about mine lmao how have the summer classes been? i’m taking a physics one online rn it’s annoying af. did you take that sf trip??? do you know what you want to do for work? also you’re in a good city for it! sd is one of the two big biochem biotech hubs aside from boston! tbh i’m probably going to end up coming back there in the end bc i’m biochem engineering

also cause the company i’m interning with takes 150 interns Total bc they said they put effort into us So they can hire us, not so they can train us to work for other people so. basically i almost certainly have a guaranteed next year internship and hopefully basically guaranteed full time job when i grad!! number one engineering internship in the country <3

yoooo open poetry mics that's so fun!!! also wild as fuck to run into your old friend like that, we love fate playing funny little games with us. so glad you guys got to reconnect!!

covid sucked but thankfully wasn't super serious. i was so feverish and out of it for the first day, then it gradually got better day by day. i'd say the only concerning thing was when i had an episode of super severe chest pain like my second night i was sick?? i mean i had the same kind of chest pain the day after i got the second dose of the vaccine, and I was fine after that so I didn't do anything about it? but yeah that was definitely a scary moment of oh god should I go to a hospital... nah i'm probably fine

pedialyte?? in rock candy???? was that good??? also i'm very happy for you for getting bitches but also i'm jealous wtf when will it be my turn i just want a girlfriend

so fair!! tbh I like vodka better than tequila too. while I like the taste of tequila in cocktails more, I like the kind of drunk I get from vodka better. it's uhh cleaner I guess? a cleaner kind of drunk if that makes sense

also holy shit that's so cool?? you sound SO smart sd anon goddamn good for you. that honestly sounds like a super useful system, and i can't believe you got a job!! that's fucking amazing!! you're doing such big things, that's so cool honestly. I'm so happy your engineering stuff seems to be working out for you <33

my summer has been good!! my uni has two rounds of summer classes, so for my first round I finished the classes and got an A in one and a B in the other so we win these :) now i'm on my second round and I had to read a super dense research paper today about synthesizing malaria drugs and one of the questions was like "use what you learned in biochemistry and molecular biology to explain the nomenclature of these mutation names" and I took both of those classes a full year ago so I just fucking blue screened

the non school parts of my summer have been alright! mostly I just hung out with my best friend whenever I was down in SD for classes, and she also drove up to LA a few times. we were trying to spend as much time as possible together because she got a job with the NIH in DC so she's moving there for 2 years. she left about a week ago and i miss her sm already, but I'm really glad we got to spend a lot of time together before she moved. she's shown me so many great bars in SD (including the one I recommended to you!), definitely gonna use that knowledge for the future

also no we did not take the sf trip it just didn't work out :(

no I don't know what I want to do for work aaaa I wanna do something writing related but idk I might just get a gig as a lab tech for a bit since I have all the qualifications for it thanks to my ~bio degree~ and my lab experience. just so i have something to do while i figure out how to break into the writing industry. (I need to figure something out though my mom desperately wants me to work for her and while the fashion industry is cool I really do not wanna work for my mother again. I did it for one summer already and that was enough) (the work itself is fine my mom is just more of a hardass on me compared to a normal employee bc I'm her kid lol)

omg biochem engineering!! another friend of mine who was also biochem engineering is moving to boston bc she got accepted to a PhD program over there right out of undergrad. I was so impressed

god im just. adulthood. please. i'm not ready fuck.

#sd anon #ask #long post

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cryptid-cubone · 9 months

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Yesterday my bosses threatened to fire me and were clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel to find any excuse to do so at this point. The best they could come up with was "you only do your work on time, or only a day or two early" which in itself is a ludicrous statement but the unspoken implications are clear: they expect martyrdom. They can't outright ask you work a bunch of un-paid overtime, but we can ask you to comply with ridiculous deadlines and nit pick at you until you knuckle under.

Just ignore the fact that they have lost 7 employees in less than two years, "we can't stop people from leaving, that's Healthcare for you" well at least 3 have cited the managers attitude specifically for their reason for leaving.

Just ignore the fact that we can't actually get replacements for those workers, and that the only reason we filled the last two slots is by hiring our intern and moving admin into case management with no experience.

No but no problems with the system or this company, clearly something is wrong with me and my work ethic.

So I quit. I put in my notice to the ceo and supervisors and told them they had a month to replace me. You'd think it would be professional to respond with at least a "thanks for letting us know" or anything but nope. Radio silence all day, except to complain about the 75 buck milage reimbursement I asked for.

Fuck them. They should be grateful I didn't leave today.

I'm so tired. I have been doing social work in some capacity since 2014/2016 and every job has been a mess of poor management, constant turnover, and insane expectation.

On top of it all, I am the one still feels like he failed. I'm the one who hates his fucked up brain for going into a detail oriented field with ADHD. I am the one feeling guilty for saying "fuck it I tried" at a job where I'm supposed to help people.

Am I selfish for wanting basic good working conditions? To not want to trade sanity and happiness to appease productivity and beaurocracy?

God I'm tired. And tired of being angry and tired.

#murray mumbles #social work

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escape-rock-bottom · 1 year

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Journal #24 - Afraid to Look Dumb?: Fearing Failure (Discomfort Challenge Journal)

I have never met a single person who actually likes feeling dumb or failing or being rejected. I have, however, witnessed the leaps and bounds a person will take to save face and uphold their intelligence. I have been that person too (What? You didn't just see me fail an across the room trash basket free throw. It was the fan that threw my aim off, bro.)

If there's one thing I can say for certain, feeling like an absolute dejected dingus is one of the most humiliating feelings a person can experience. We hate that so much that we will lie and bend rules to avoid it. We will even go as far as not even trying while touting our abilities to do it, claiming we just don't feel like it right now. The behavior varies, but there's some way you personally avoid looking dumb or being turned away.

For most people, they will procrastinate or make up an excuse. Others simply don't bother to take action. They never ask for that promotion or for that date, they never try to play a sport they find interesting but have never played themselves. They don't want to be imperfect and look like a silly little monkey because of the fear of

Personally, I'm the guy to make it out to be an intentional joke when I fail majorly. It lets me not take it to heart and internalize it as a "whoops that sucked" kind of thing. While it's a great way to manage the feelings surrounding the failure, my big problem is that I don't even bother to try until I know every little detail going in so I lessen my chance of failure. Basically, I plan my actions to avoid failure.

The shortfall with that is obvious: most things take practical practice to get to the point you don't fail miserably. Planning it out or reading every single tip and trick out there regarding it won't even give me the experience needed to get good at the thing I'm set to try. That isn't to say educating yourself to prepare yourself is a bad thing. It's a pointless thing if you don't plan to engage in the practical side of the activity.

I also really hate looking dumb. It sucks big time. I'm not a fan of failing and being laughed at or having it pointed out as if I didn't notice or the whole world really cares about it. It's a residual anxiety from a history of sucky people hammering it into my head that I had to be perfect and omniscient or risk being ridiculed in some fashion (thanks for that, people in my past. Lol)

I realized these tendencies of mine and I decided that I would set a discomfort challenge to specifically kick myself in the stern (boat pun intended) and learn to take action on things that'll potentially make me look like a big ol' doofus if I fail trying it. How could I possibly succeed at my goals if I won't even take the dive and try in the first place?

Yeah. It was difficult. I figured out a system thanks to some advice from people on how to handle the fear of failure and rejection. Once I began practicing, it got a little easier. I still don't enjoy feeling like I look like an idiot in front of people, but I hold onto my desire to learn new things which automatically comes with failure.

We are all human. Regardless of where we're from or who we identify ourselves as, we are socially driven. We tend to like approval and we love looking like we know what we're doing. The honest truth is we really are just making it up as we go along. We don't know everything, we can't do everything, we can't come up with solutions every time, and we definitely can't look flawless and well put together 24/7 year round. We're imperfect creatures who try and fail and learn, and you should embrace your humanity.

Perfection is an impossible standard to live by.

#drvn30 #fear of rejection #fear of failure #overcoming fear #self improvement

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supercorpbb · 3 years

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Are you a fan of SuperCorp or a fandom creator? Want to see more art and fics like this or take part in this kind of collaboration where artists inspire writers? Follow us! Sign ups begin soon. Everyone is welcome! Now, enjoy the story.

(Thanks @iwishicoulddrawheatherforaliving for the art and @emiliarowan for the story !)

It wasn’t entirely unusual for Kara to visit Lena at work.

What was unusual, however, was Supergirl barreling headfirst through a plate glass window into the conference room while Lena was personally welcoming the newest group of L-Corp interns.

Lena stood at the front of the conference room, heart thundering in her chest, as Kara rolled around on the floor for a long moment before standing and whipping her cape over her head.

“Whoopsie-daisy!” Supergirl exclaimed in a sing-song voice not entirely appropriate for the amount of destruction she had just caused. She looked around the room with wide eyes before her gaze landed on her wife. “Lena!”

“K— Supergirl,” Lena huffed as the Kryptonian hugged her, squeezing just a bit too tightly for Lena’s human rib cage. “Are you alright?”

“Just peachy,” Kara replied. “You smell nice.”

“Supergirl,” Lena muttered as Kara inhaled deeply into Lena’s hair. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Kara said innocently. “Ooo, what’s that?”

Lena looked up and realized that she had squeezed the laser pointer in her hand, and the small red dot was moving across the screen behind her. Kara released her from her hug and backed up, sticking her tongue out and furrowing her brow in concentration before launching herself at the wall. Lena’s wrist flicked in surprise, sending the little red dot across the wall and onto the ceiling. Kara, unrestrained by the laws of gravity, took off after the dot, and in doing so sent the projector screen to the floor with a loud crash.

“Miss Luthor?”

Lena looked away from the chaotic Kryptonian as her assistant poked her head into the room. “Jess, I’m not sure now is the time…”

“Agent Danvers is on Line One,” Jess told her, but she was watching as Kara chased the laser pointer into a corner, knocking over a potted plant in the process.

“Right,” Lena replied. She looked back at the dozen interns currently watching National City’s heroine pouncing on a red dot. “Okay, I think everyone should head to lunch a bit early. Orientation will resume at one thirty with your department heads.”

The young scientists didn’t even grumble as they shuffled out of the room.

“Here, keep her occupied,” Lena instructed, handing over the laser pointer to Jess as she stepped into the lobby to take the phone call. “Alex?”

“Heeeeey, Lena,” Alex answered, raising Lena’s suspicions. “I don’t want to alarm you, but, um, have you seen…?”

“Have I seen my wife? Yes, she crashed through the window into my conference room about three minutes ago, and now Jess is… entertaining her,” Lena replied, peering into the next room. In fact, Jess might’ve been having a bit too much fun leading Kara around the room using the laser pointer. Lena sighed and focused her attention back to the phone call.

“Oh, good, good,” Alex replied. “Does she seem a little… off?”

“If by off you mean high as a kite, then yes, I’d say she’s a little off,” Lena told her. “Care to explain?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Lena could practically hear Alex trying to formulate her response. “Well, the team got a call from the NC Botanical Gardens about this plant that somebody donated that they couldn’t identify and it turned out to be alien and while they were inspecting it, the plant shot some kind of pollen in their faces.”

“Some kind of pollen?” Lena interrupted. “Is it dangerous?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex replied. “It affected them all differently. J’onn passed out immediately— he’s fine, he’s sleeping it off in the infirmary. Brainy is acting like he’s had fifteen shots of espresso— he’s currently reprogramming the Roomba for combat. It didn’t affect Nia at all, probably because she’s half human. Kara flew off before I could really get an idea of how it was affecting her, but you say she’s… high? How so?”

Lena looked back into the other room to see that Kara was lying on her back beneath the broken potted palm, slapping playfully at the fronds and giggling. She really only had one comparison she could make.

When she was seven years old, Lionel had brought home a kitten as a pet. A little black and white fluff ball with a flat face, Lena had named her Duchess. Lena had doted on the cat until Lillian sent her away to boarding school, and she wasn’t entirely sure what became of it after that. One distinct memory of the cat came to mind now. She had given Duchess a catnip-stuffed toy, and the normally refined feline had spent hours rolling around on the toy, carrying it from room to room, pupils dilated, completely relaxed, stoned out of her mind.

That was exactly what Kara looked like now.

“Are you telling me my sister is—“

“Basically a human-shaped cat at the moment? Mmhmm,” Lena confirmed.

Alex let out a long-suffering sigh on the other end of the phone. “Okay, we need to get her someplace safe where she can’t do any damage until the chemicals get out of her system.”

“If I can get her home, I can turn on the red sun lamps in the bedroom,” Lena replied.

“Every time I try to forget that you had those installed, you just have to remind me,” Alex grumbled. “But yeah, good idea. Take her home, make her shower to get any excess pollen off, and then just lock her in the bedroom until it wears off.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.”

Lena made her way back to the conference room where Kara was hiding behind the edge of the table, eyeing the laser pointer on the wall yet again, and Jess was smiling gleefully as she slowly moved the light in circles around on the wall.

“Okay, I hate to break up the fun, but hand over the laser pointer,” Lena said, holding her hand out expectantly.

“Awwwww,” Jess groused.

“Jessica,” Lena warned.

Jess sighed and gave her the device. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Lena told her. “I’m gonna need you to—“

“Cancel your meetings for the rest of the day and have facilities come clean up this mess and replace the window?” Jess supplied. “On it, boss.”

“Now I remember why I hired you,” Lena said with a grin. “Come on, Kara, darling, we’re going home.”

“But—“ Kara began to argue, only to stop when Lena aimed the laser pointer at the door.

Lena managed to get the pouncing Kryptonian into the elevator, downstairs, and through the lobby with minimal incident and only one bent elevator panel of destruction. What Lena hadn’t realized, however, was that once they were outside, the bright midday sunlight made the laser pointer’s dot near-impossible to see, even for Kryptonian eyes. The city itself, however, offered plenty of things to distract Kara away from the town car on the curb.

“Ooo, look, Lena!” Kara exclaimed. “Kebabs!”

Lena grabbed Kara’s cape in an attempt to stop her, but that only resulted in her being dragged across the sidewalk towards a falafel stand. Once they were at the front of the line, Lena bought several servings of kebabs and grabbed them all up before Kara could get hold of them.

“Nuh-uh,” Lena chastised. “You only get kebabs if you get in the car. Deal?”

Kara pouted, but she reluctantly cooperated. Once they were in the car, Lena instructed George to take them to her penthouse. When they reached the apartment building, however, there was an ice cream truck serendipitously stationed on the corner, and Kara pointedly refused to enter the building without getting ice cream. Lena couldn’t help but scowl as she paid for a heaping cone of Kara’s favorite chocolate swirl. Her dour mood couldn’t last, however, with Kara happily lapping at her ice cream cone as the elevator made its way to the top floor.

Once inside their apartment, it wasn’t difficult to get Kara into the bedroom, and once she was there Lena immediately hit the button that switched on the red sun lamps and locked down all of the windows and doors. The room was awash in a coppery glow, and Kara immediately sank down on the foot of the bed.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed woozily.

“You okay?” Lena asked, immediately concerned.

“Yeah, just really sleepy all of a sudden,” Kara replied, and then she yawned in further confirmation. She stretched her arms high over her head, the remainder of her ice cream cone tipping precariously.

“Easy there,” Lena warned, pulling the offending dessert back down to face-level. “Why don’t you finish that up while I get the shower going, and then after that you can take a nap. Sound good?”

“Will you nap with me?” Kara asked pitifully

“Of course,” Lena replied. After the last half hour, she certainly felt like she needed a nap herself.

Kara finished the ice cream quickly, as Lena collected towels and pajamas. She managed to get Kara out of her super suit and into the shower without using the laser pointer or bribing her with food. For a moment Lena felt quite successful— until Kara reached out and yanked Lena, fully clothed, under the spray.

“Kara!” Lena sputtered.

Kara just giggled, eyes fixated south of Lena’s face as her white blouse became more and more transparent. “Hehe… tiddies.”

Lena put her fingers underneath Kara’s chin and pushed her face up until she met her gaze. “Eyes up here, Danvers.”

By the time she got Kara out of the shower her wife was practically falling asleep standing up. Lena managed to get Kara’s blonde hair mostly dried and forced her into a t-shirt and pajama shorts before she staggered to the bed.

“Just gonna close my eyes for a bit,” Kara murmured as she cuddled into a pillow.

“You do that, darling,” Lena chuckled. Then she made her way back to the bathroom. She cleaned up the puddles of water, dried her hair, and put on her own pajamas before returning to the bedroom.

She blinked at the sight that greeted her. In the ten minutes she had taken in the bathroom, Kara had raided their closet for all of the pillows, blankets, and extra comforters, and had used those to construct a round fort on their king-size bed.

“Kara?” Lena called hesitantly, and a blonde head appeared over the top of the nest.

“Lena!” Kara exclaimed, reaching toward her with grabby hands.

Lena went willingly, climbing carefully over the blankets and into the red-tinted pillow fort Kara had created. Once she was inside, Kara tucked a blanket over her and then curled into her body, resting practically on top of her as her head found Lena’s chest for a pillow.

“Mmm, this okay?” Kara asked.

Lena sighed, moving a bit until her body fit even better against Kara’s. “This is good.”

“Yeah,” Kara sighed. “You’re so soft. Love you.”

Lena stroked her hair and let out a sigh of her own. “Love you, too.”

#supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fanart #supercorp big bang #lena luthor #kara danvers #alex danvers #supergirl

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x Reader - Your What?! Part 1/2 (Soulmate au)

A/n: So I can't believe I'm doing this but... This a soulmate au! With Kaz fucking Brekker! I'm just going to cry in the corner now... I also decided to split this into two parts, so part 2 will be out tomorrow!

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of the menagerie, mentions of death, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You and the crows are on a mission and your soulmate mark starts burning

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

Soulmates are the bane of my existence.

You can say otherwise, tell me that I live in a wonderful world to have a chance to even meet my true love or whatever. Personally, I think it's bullshit.

Come on! Most people probably don't even meet their soulmate because the whole system is stupid! Maybe it was different billions of years ago when people couldn't have the same initials but now it's not about the initials.

It's about the pain.

Knowing the initials is just a slight sign to help you along your journey. The pain where those initials are is what it really is.

When your soulmate is hurt or in danger you mark will burn. Depending on the level of how much pain or danger they will be in it could feel like a mosquito bite... Or feel like your getting stabbed multiple times.

In my opinion well really... I don't give two fucks about it. It is what it is but the worst part about soulmate marks is when the person dies.

So when your soulmate is going to die, or is VERY close to death your soulmate mark fill start to flicker. Apparently it's worse then the normal pain you face with soulmates. When the person dies though...

In the case that your soulmate dies, the mark will slowly fade away causing you excruciating pain that could last YEARS. (Dramatic I know.)

That's what I used to think anyways.

When my sister finally escaped the menagerie I was ecstatic, but then she got dragged into the whole 'ice court heist,' so that was fun. In the time that everything happened I eventually got dragged down with her when Ketterdam was on lock down looking for criminals.

Then I found my soulmate.

Kaz fucking Brekker. Or Kaz Rietveld would be more correct, I guess.

After the whole heist was finally over we decided that fine, we could bond and we did. Being us, we didn't tell anyone not to stir up trouble, (we both had enemies) and because Inej Ghafa was my sister. Her and the others would be very protective of me.

Not like they can stop me though.

"Y/n." I snapped my head to look up to Kaz and he raise's an eyebrow at me.

"Don't kill Pekka." I roll my eyes at him. Since Kaz did tell me about his past I told him if he wouldn't kill Pekka I would.

Or at least his son.

I sigh. "Fine but don't expect me to give him a fucking birthday present."

"I never said you had too." Kaz says blankly and I almost grit my teeth together at the thought of Kaz having no emotions. Wow, people really don't know him. Though I guess that's the point.

The Crows and I start walking towards the warehouse-club and Kaz walks with me step by step. That must means he's worried because most times he doesn't even look at me when we're on a job to not show weakness.

Shit.

I brush my hand quickly up against Kaz's gloved ones and I give him a nod.

A promise.

A promise to make it out alive as long as he does. I step back and lower my pace so I'm not leading with Kaz anymore and I fall into pace with Inej and Nina.

My mind goes to when Kaz found out I was his soulmate. I had found out on when he went on a mission one time and I just... Didn't tell him.

*Flashback*

The walls of the Crow club all the sudden become suffocating as I stare intently at Kaz. I spin on my heels and dash out the doors tears filling my eyes. I don't even know where I'm running, I just needed to escape out of the Crow Club.

I need to escape the disappointment.

I slide down onto the wall of the alleyway feeling like a fool. How could I have ever thought someone like Kaz could love me. Regardless of the soulmate mark he didn't even know about.

I sense a someone is in front of me and I go to lift my head up and a man has me at gun point. I go to grab my knives. Shit. I curse every saint ever in existence. They aren't there. I don't even have a gun.

Bare fists I guess it is for me.

We turn in a circle and he clicks the safety off his gun and in a split second I duck when I hear a short, boom!

I growl in pain as a bullet goes through my shoulder and he goes to shoot again and...

BANG!

The man drops dead to the floor.

I turn around and behind me is Kaz holding a gun, but his face is in pain and worry is there as well, spread across his face more plainly then I had ever seen before.

"Your my soulmate." He mutters and I barely hear it. My chest heaves and I just nod my head not being able to speak.

He come's over and pause's right in front of me, just a foot away. Slowly, he takes off his gloves and he nervously takes my hand and laces our fingers together.

Then we start walking back to the Crow Club.

To a new future. Together.

*Flashback over*

"What do you even have against Pekka Rollins anyways, Y/n?" Inej questions me as we speed-walk to the warehouse where some Dime Lions are stirring up trouble.

My brain scrabbles to put something together but I have always been a efficient liar. No offense to my sister she's fantastic at what she does, but lying had never really been her thing.

"Rollins is a barrel boss." I shrug my shoulders seemingly uncaring even though there is so much more layers to it. But I guess I'm not lying.

Yet.

"So is Kaz." Nina points out but I already planed for that response.

"And we're dregs. Pekka is a big barrel boss, he scares off people from coming to the dregs. It's a problem and it's getting on our ass's." I grumble.

"I didn't know it mattered to you that much." Inej states. I wanted to scream in her face. He killed Kaz's brother! He almost killed Kaz! He creates monsters where ever he goes and tries to control them like caged lab rats! But I couldn't do that, so furiously I snap at her.

"Well it should to me, it's my job."

Nina and my sister both look at me weirdly, oh crap. They don't know I have basically the same authority as Kaz. Fuck.

*Flashback*

"Why give me a promotion? Isn't there other people who could use it? Who would do better than me?" I ask Kaz as he goes through the papers on his desk.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it." He looks up to me and starts to get out of his desk. He goes to the door but before he can open it I grab his arm.

"I basically have the same power over the dregs that you do. I don't think that's a good thing."

Kaz just shrugs his shoulders and opens the door.

"What's a king without his queen Y/n?"

*Flashback over*

"Wait what?" Nina asks confused.

At least it goes off the topic of me hating Pekka Rollins with everything I have. Internally I sigh at my foolishness, I had only accepted Kaz's request recently, so no one really knew who was helping him out all the time.

*Flashback*

"Nemesis." The man whispers as I circle around him using the blinding light and the darkness to my advantage.

"Yes, and I get to decide if you live or die. Tell me, did you kill that little girl - Oh what was her name? Sarah was it?" I say loudly my voice confident and dangerous.

"No-no!" The sleaze ball yells and I throw one of my knives at his hand. The knife goes through his hand sticking it to the wall. The man screams out in pain.

"Liar." I hiss.

"Fine! Fine! I killed her!" He manages to scream out. "I killed her." He sobs as he says those three words again.

"Good." I say as I secretly pull a knife out behind my back into my right hand.

"I will grant you mercy." I whisper into his ear.

"Oh thank you!" The man sobs. "Thank you!"

I quickly slit his throat and he chokes on his blood for a few second and horror frames his face, before he falls to the ground.

Dead.

I hear a click of a cane and I whip my head around to face the one and only Dirtyhands.

"You know killing him was accepting my offer, right?"

"I know." I don't have to look at him to know a small smile that has become reversed for me, is sitting on his face.

Then I remember what he said to me when he first gave the offer. I turn to face him as I try to hide my smirk, and I look at him right in the eye.

"My Crow king."

And I turned and walk away.

*Flashback over*

"Well-" I start to say but I'm cut off from Jesper's very excited 'we're here!' Thank the saints though, because it gives me time to escape they're questions for now.

"You all know the plan."

Nina puts her hands on her hips. "Only the parts you deem important enough for us to know."

I nearly snort and a small smile grace's my lips. They really have no idea, well obviously some idea being that the ice court heist existed.

Kaz rolls his eyes and makes a go motion.

Inej goes to slip through the shadows but before she's totally gone I make eye contact with her before she leaves. It clearly says our conversation is not over and stay safe.

I suck in a breath, I always hate it when I have to say goodbye to anyone. Especially when that some person could die.

Running over to back of the warehouse, I pull my hood up trying to be the most concealed that I can be.

Wylan is going with Jesper to go make a distraction so they'll be going through the front doors. Nina will be going to go flirt to go get some extra info, perhaps steal some things on the way and wiggle her way into the top floor where the Dime Lions are. Matthias and Kaz will be going together with them posing as the warehouse-club guards. Inej will be going through the roof, while I'll be going through the back.

In the end everyone will get to the top floor so we can exterminate some Dime Lions, and get into the vault where a whole bunch of kruge is. Hopefully there will be enough so I can put my share's with Inej's so she can get that upgrade on her boat that she needs. It's not like I'm going to use the money to do anything useful, she deserved it and plus I intended to stay with this city.

I silently slide sneakily into the window, coming out of the other end with a knife in my hands. If I have learned one thing from living in Ketterdam, it's that you can never be too prepared.

I stay close to the wall as I see someone roll down the rope-ladder. I grin to myself,

Right on time Inej.

I climb up the ladder without fear of falling down even if the ladder was just made out of rope. I get to the top and Inej offers me a hand and I take it.

The top floor is basically empty except for some Dime Lions henchmen that are laying around, dead or knocked out.

Then, I guess there is also the vault full of kruge.

I look around the room everyone is here except for-

Kaz.

"Where's Kaz?"

Matthias looks a bit uncomfortable and guilty as he shifts nervously on his two feet.

"He said he had to take care of something and to just go."

I sigh, well I know he isn't in danger... Yet. My heart is screaming for me to go after him, but it wouldn't look good for Dirtyhands or Nemesis. Knowing Kaz he's probably fine, he would just want me to open this vault I guess.

The fact that my soulmate mark isn't burning is probably also a clear sign that he's fine.

Get yourself together Y/n.

"Can we open the vault without him?"

The others look mildly surprised at my response (excluding Nina, and my sister).

"You might be able to do it, your one of the best lock pickers there is. Only second to Brekker." Nina states.

I bit my lip and start to walk over to the vault. I let my hand fall over the lock. I let it feel the certain gears and the parts that make up the lock.

The shank of the lock would be easy enough to undo with some man strength to help pull that open. Though that would be the last step - I need to stop thinking too far ahead.

It's a very simple lock that any petty thief could probably do in 32 seconds flat. Besides the fact that it was absolutely ginormous to fit over a fucking vault.

"Inej I'm going to need some help!" I yell across the room to my sister who is in the shadows on a look out, to make sure no ones coming here.

She comes and strolls over to stand beside me. I put my hand up the lock, and I grab one bar and I move it to the side but I hold it there with my hands.

"Can you find the bar to the left and pull it up once?"

Inej does and I hear a huge click! ring through the room.

"We should wait for Kaz till we open it." Inej states and I nod my head in agreement.

"So while we wait." Nina start's talking... Oh no, that can't be good. "We should maybe share the fact that Y/n is Kaz's second hand!"

Angry courses of what! come throughout the room.

"The fuck does Kaz think with putting you in all that danger!" Jesper yells and I see Matthias nod along with him.

"I'm already in danger most of the times I'm Inej's sister!"

"You should have told us!" Nina shoots back.

"You guys are really talking about this while were on a heist!" I shoot back.

My soulmate mark starts to tingle a bit but I ignore it, being that this conversation will most likely take a lot of energy.

"It still puts you in unnecessary danger." Inej and Wylan point out.

Fury rakes through my body. Who are they to tell me that's it's 'dangerous'?! I live in fucking Ketterdam!

"I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I'm not a doll! I can take care of myself! And you can't say anything because 60% percent of you guys don't even fucki- Ahhh!" A string of curse leave my mouth as I collapse against the vault.

"Y/n!"

To be continued...

Words 2480

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace

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forthehpfanboys · 3 years

Text

Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame.

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead.

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit.

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling.

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours.

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily.

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead.

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny.

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry.

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.”

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers.

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him.

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back.

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

#Ron Weasley #ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #hp x male reader #x male reader #male reader #ron weasley smut #hp imagine #hp fic #punk!ron weasley

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vergess · 3 years

Text

@autismserenity said: Your tags are the most American thing I’ve ever read, we are truly so screwed here

May I interest you in a more complete, and more excruciating, explanation of what I spent the last 18 months doing?

It is, I need to emphasize, fucking nasty. Don’t feel obligated, especiallly if you’ve already had A Day(tm).

There’s a lot of disease, a lot of worker abuse including sexual and racial abuse, a fine portion of letting people die for not being white enough for real medical care, all leading to homelessness.

For NDA reasons, because my former employer was just as vile as any tech company has ever been, I cannot be super specific about who I worked for. However, I can say that we handled the records and patient contact for all COVID testing for several states, as well as 2 of the 5 largest metros in the US, and several dozen smaller ones ranging from the approximate population of San Francisco, down to little towns, as well as the testing for several public school systems and at least two government agencies that I am not at liberty to disclose.

I tell you this for a sense of scale. When I say shit like, “my boss was more than happy to let thousands or hundreds of thousands die” I am not exagerrating for effect. We handled hundreds of thousands of tests a week.

Again, I need to emphasize, government agencies. Ones you would know if I named them. Ones everyone in the country knows.

And we were in charge of getting their test results from the already over swamped labs back to the patients, who often were not allowed to quarantine while awaiting results.

The fastest we got our turnaround time to on any consistent basis was about 30 hours. Often it ballooned well into weeks.

There were a number of factors for this, but the big one was always understaffing.

The staff we did have were treated like trash. One of the big selling points of this company is how “trans friendly” it is to work there. That is a lie. Every trans employee on payroll had their dead name displayed to all other staff, and until I personally changed the system setup on my arrival, patient facing trans people’s dead names were displayed to patients.

Remember that thing about “hundreds of thousands of tests a week”?

I was able to change the way patient-facing names were displayed. I was not allowed or able to alter the way internal systems displayed trans people’s names. But I was assured that it’s fine, because once you get a legal name change, you’ll be given new system accounts with your new name!

Your old accounts with your dead name would still be displayed and associated with the new ones though.

This is the “trans friendly” working environment. We were allowed to be out of the closet, as long as we were willing to put up with that. And any attempts to get it altered were the result of those nasty little transgender ingrates not being thankful enough.

Meaning that by asking to use our own fucking names we were already in the disciplinary shitter.

Another big selling point is the ~racial diversity~. The CEO was a man of colour, and so were like four other people on staff!! Wow!!!!!!!

This, too, was laughable.

Once numbers started coming in about the care gap for COVID between English and Spanish speakers, and our Southwestern US service area began to have a separate and brutal backlog just of Spanish speaking patients, my employer encouraged me to interview potential hires who speak spanish.

Fair enough! We all wanted to do our part to help close the already massive mortality gap.

So, I found candidates, did interviews, hired them, trained them, etc. But I don’t speak Spanish. As a result, I appointed 2 assistant managers who do speak Spanish to assist me in managing, you know, like the job name.

So when my super contacted them directly, completely skipping me on the chain of command, and told them to stop all of our Spanish speakers from translating helpful simple messages to send to patients, and instead start translating medical and legal documents, they very reasonably assumed I was in the know and went ahead with it.

TO BE CLEAR, that could have ended my life, theirs, basically everyone involved. Everyone in the company would have been completely fucked. At that point, my subordinates, the people for whom I am wholly responsible, were doing everything from practicing medicine without licenses, to encouraging spanish speaking patients to enter contracts that no one on the fucking executive tier could even read.

The moment I found that out, I and the A.M.s immediately started trying to get actual medical translation services to do our documents. We collected them in a neat folder. We queried translation services. We got quotes. We contacted my super and the CEO, about this over and over again for months. In the late autumn, we received approval for one of the translation services.

The CEO decided at the last minute that having people with no medical or legal training draft medical and legal forms was fine and good actually, and refused to sign the contract or send the documents for translation.

The excuse I received was that the COVID emergency HIPAA relaxations would protect us.

That’s not how that works.

Throughout all of this, Spanish speaking employees were told to either keep doing medical and legal translation work, or lose their jobs.

Oh, did I mention everyone was working between 30 and 80 hours a week, and all of us were marked as “contractors” so the employer could tax evade? Don’t worry, we filed complaints with the labour bureau.

So the entire department was let go, and “rehired” as temps through a temp agency, which because it was a temp agency could keep them marked as contractors regardless of the facts.

This change was presented to all of us, myself included, as the company getting a new accountant to handle payroll.

So if you’re keeping score, we’ve covered racism, queerphobia, medical negligence, fraud, and a frankly uncountable number of deaths.

Let’s talk about the sheer negligence towards employees ourselves. If you’ve worked in near-death medical care before, or any number of emergency services really, you know that the standard benefit suite includes either a dedicated therapist for your staff, or access to peer support groups with other emergency and medical servants through your employer’s benefits program.

Do you know what our mental health benefits were for this company?

The CEO got on a fucking zoom call with us all one (1) time, and said that if we were feeling suicidal or traumatized by the work, to talk to him about it, and he would be our therapist.

Do you know how many people per fucking day we had to contact only to be told they had already died because our understaffing delays killed them? He doesn’t. He never listened when we told him.

But let me put the cherry on the “Oh baby, you can talk to me, oooh” sundae.

Anyone who “looked” or “sounded” female, regardless of actual or assigned gender, was subject to constant flirtations and slimy, overly personal compliments about our appearances. Fortunately, at 3 levels removed from the CEO (Executives > Department heads > Managers > Employees), most of the people under my management had relatively little contact with him.

I was not nearly so lucky.

The CEO of this company has a watersports (urination) fetish. I know this, because he told me so and attempted to get me to join him in it. I have no idea how many other people in the company he did this to. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do, risk losing my job to find out? I have a fucking family to support, people.

Not that it mattered.

Eventually, all of these abuses became too much for my subordinates. Productivity fell off a cliff. Delays were getting worse and worse. In a medical emergency like this, delays=deaths.

So, like a fucking idiot, when the department heads reached out to me to ask what they could do to improve productivity, I shot down their frankly insulting suggestion of raffling a $20 amazon gift card to patient facing employees, and instead suggested a very simple, “enroll us with a peer support group, every single person in this department has PTSD from working in this pandemic.”

They were confused by my assertion of PTSD. I was asked to compile a document of complaints, concerns, and weaknesses in our patient facing services.

I and the A.M.s did so. It was roughly 40 pages long, with each page given a known problem, the reasons why it was a problem, and some potential solutions that might inspire further solutions or be able to be implemented. We submitted it. There was no response.

A week passed.

I had been working 80 hour weeks for most of a year. I hadn’t even been able to take weekends. I took my first sick day, in a company with “unlimited vacation days.”

I received a call at 3PM.

I had been fired for “differences in communitcation.” If you’ve ever seen that “Problem Women of Color in the workplace” chart? Yeah.

So had most of my department, including every transgender member of the department, and several of our extremely limited in supply Spanish speakers, who were presumed to be “on my side.”

Some of them, I barely even knew beyond the formalities of the job, and they were punished anyway.

I lost my insurance, and as a result I lost access to my medications.

But the real problem? I lost my house. And not due to lack of payment.

I lost my house, because when I got the job we waited 6 months for stability’s sake, and then readied to move out of the area. I got a mortgage on the basis of my employer’s written guarantee to the bank that I would continue to be employed for the next year at a minimum.

With the mortgage approval in hand, we entered a sales contract on our existing home.

We got and accepted an offer just days before I was fired. To keep our house meant paying a 25,000 dollar broken contract fine. We didn’t have that. We had a 10% down payment for a modest fucking place in a cheaper area, which is less than half that.

But without a job, my mortgage approval was also voided, meaning we couldn’t buy a house either.

All of a sudden, we were homeless during the plague, because my employer wrote and signed a letter to a bank guaranteeing my future employ, and then changed his mind when too many people died due to his own negligence.

Oh yeah, one last thing: the job paid less than Pandemic unemployment Assistance.

...After that, well, it’s homelessness until just last month. I... if you’ve never been homeless it’s.

It blurs. Everything is happening constantly, except for all the ways in which you are endlessly, mind breakingly bored. Bored, overloaded, and always uncomfortable.

Obviously my health would have declined regardless. Malnutrition, stress, everything.

But I was also unmedicated.

It was hell. I was in hell. I don’t know if I can recover from it, to be honest.

I bounced back from being homeless as a child. Children are as resilient as they are stupid, and the monstrosity of homelessness was little more than a vaguely remembered loathing and a panicky fear that it would ever happen again.

A child who is dying is worthy of sympathy, even if it is meaningless coos from passers by. If they have family, they may be able to rely on them too.

An adult with the indignity to die homeless and crippled, according to the average passer by, is worthy only of disgust and perhaps even punishment for being such a worthless waste.

My reward for nearly killing myself in a desperate bid to help stem the tide of COVID was the destruction of not only my life, not only my entire family’s lives, but the lives of every single family of every single employee who worked with me.

And you know what’s worse?

Each one of us still did more to limit the lethal impact of COVID than the entire united states government.

It breaks something in you, going through that.

It makes you realize that hope is a fool’s game.

But, I have ever been a fool, and so, I continue to play.

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daily-dose-of-sweets · 3 years

Text

Sweets’ Scars

Based on S4E21

Lance Sweets X Reader

Summary: You and Sweets have been in a relationship for a year now, but it isn’t until a case involving a certain metal band that you realize there might be something he’s not telling you. Something about his past. You don’t want to press, but you can’t help but worry.

Words: 3331

Warnings: Scars, and very short mention of abuse

---

As soon as you step foot into the venue, the blaring metal music floods in around you. You wince and quickly cover your ears to dull the screaming voices and screeching guitars. The music reverberates through your ribcage, pounding and ragged. Why do people listen to this kind of stuff? You can barely make out the mass of moving bodies ahead of you because of the flashing lights and flickering fires that practically blind you. It’s all so much, too much. You’ve never liked crowds, but this is a whole different level, and the urge to escape grips your chest.

You jump when a hand rests against your shoulder and you whip around only to see Doctor Brennan peering at you worriedly. “We won’t be here long,” she assures you, though she has to scream for you to hear her.

You nod, eyes darting back to the crowd of people, all covered in leather and heavy makeup. The two of you stick out like sore thumbs in your normal clothes, which was never something you thought would be possible. You huddle closer to your mentor, swallowing your nerves and twisting your fingers into your sweater.

“I’m going to call Booth!” She shouts out again.

You don’t respond this time, not that it really matters in the situation. You doubt you could get loud enough to overcome the noise.

Why did you have to come on this excursion? Why couldn’t Clark come? He was your senior after all. You had just recently started working at the Jeffersonian, and you were currently the youngest intern on the team. You figured it would be a calm job, just working with your people and maybe a few witnesses every once and a while. This...This was not what you were thinking of.

“I’m disturbed that despite my extensive training as an anthropologist, all these bands sound alike and appear to share identical belief systems and morals.” You hear Doctor Brennan shouting into her phone, to who is most likely Booth. She pauses, listening to his response before speaking up again, “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes scanning the dark crowd again before landing on the stage, where the band ‘Zorch’ was performing. That’s why you were there, to question them about the remains.

“Are you guys ready?”

You shy away when a man comes into your space, pressing a hand to your back. With wide eyes, you look to Doctor Brennan, begging silently for help. She stares at the man with her brow furrowed, and then recognition floods her eyes.

“Sweets?”

What? You look back up at the man’s painted face, eyes narrowing as you take in his features. Then it hits you, just as quickly as it hit the anthropologist. It is Sweets! You couldn’t recognize him with the makeup and slicked back hair.

“Wait, is that really you?” You question, stepping closer to him. He casts a look down at you, lips pulling into a small smile that makes your heart stutter.

“Yeah, I had to meld to get information. What do you think?” Sweets holds his arms up, looking mighty pleased with his metal getup.

Your eyes slowly trace over his figure, and you can’t help but notice how well his sleeveless black shirt fits him, or how it shows off his arms. Heat comes rushing to your face, turning your cheeks rosy. Thank goodness the venue is so poorly lit, or else he’d probably notice. Your eyes lingers on the choker strapped around his neck. Part of you wants to grab the ring on it and drag him close for a kiss, which only serves to darken your blush.

“You look good,” you manage to squeak out before quickly turning to Doctor Brennan, completely missing the small smirk that replaces Sweet’s smile (he definitely noticed your flushed face).

“What information have you gathered?” The anthropologist asks him, completely oblivious to how flustered you just grew.

“Zorch’s lead singer is Murderbreath,” Sweets begins, gesturing to the stage just as the man blows out a puff of fire, “Look at that. Who does he think he is, the guy with the tongue from KISS?”

You laugh at the jest. You used to listen to that band, back in your rebellious teen phase that everyone goes through.

Sweets explains how the feud of the two bands has progressed, though your eyes stay focused on the band, looking for anything that might help with the case somehow. That when you notice the lead singer pull out a large knife, thrusting into the air for all to see and drawing chants from the crowd.

“Guys, he has a knife,” you worry aloud to your colleagues.

Sweets gently draws you closer to him in a somewhat subconscious way, “No, don’t worry, it’s totally fake.”

A shudder passes through you when the singer drags the blade along his throat, blood immediately dripping down his painted skin. He thrusts the crimson knife back into the air victoriously, before gripping his neck with his other hand. Blood seeps out from between his fingers, coating his gloves. You gasp when the man convulses and drops to his knees, fingers still wrapped around his throat.

“That’s...not fake,” Bones murmurs, “Murderbreath slit his own throat!”

Before you have time to even process what’s happening, you’re dashing forward, easily weaving through the throngs of fans. The screeching music fades into the background, overcome by the pounding of your pulse in your ears. The flashing lights blur together and all you can focus on is the man crumpled on the ground. The people part around you as you jump onto the stage, quickly followed by Doctor Brennan and Sweets.

You dive down next to the singer, pressing two fingers to his pulsepoint and covering his hand with your own.

“We need something to stop the bleeding,” you urge, panic swelling in your chest.

Brennan looks around quickly, “A compress, we need a compress!” Her eyes lock on Sweets before she darts up, ripping his shirt right off of him despite his complaints.

She drops back down, pressing the wadded fabric to the man’s neck. It’s only then that the music comes to a halting stop. The band goes silent, glancing between each other and towards their lead. You shake your head, lips pursed in irritation. Now they take it seriously.

“Hold this against the wound,” Brennan directs Lance before shouting into her phone, “Booth, can you call it in?” You assume his answer isn’t what she wants, because she shuts the phone with an irritated huff and begins dialing a new number.

Glancing around, you feel anger rise to replace your panic when you see how many people have their phones out to film the spectacle. Without hesitation, you jump up in front of the group, shoving some people back and blocking their cameras. Who, in their right mind, would record something like this?

“Stand back, please!” you cry out, taking a step back as the crowd pushes forward in retaliation, “Please! Get back, we need space to work! Move back!” Do these people have no respect? Or just basic decency?!

You take a glance back at your colleagues to check on what’s happening, but your eyes land on something that knocks the very breath from your lungs. Your chest tightens painfully at the sight of the scars running along Lance’s shoulders. The dancing lights glaze over them, catching on the raised skin like little criss-crossing lightning bolts. A burning sensation fills your throat, spreading to your eyes, but you blink rapidly, determined to not let it get the best of you right now. There are more important things to focus on! You turn back to the crowd, arms spread wide to keep the stage clear.

Soon enough, paramedics and police come rushing into the venue. Everything else comes as a blur. The sirens, the gurney, rushing out to the ambulance, it all swirls together in your mind like a chaotic storm. It leaves you dizzy when things calm down and Murderbreath is on his way to the hospital. You, Sweets, and Doctor Brennan are left standing outside the venue, and it’s then you notice Sweets is still shirtless.

“We need to get you a coat before you catch a cold,” you murmur worriedly, trying your hardest to shove the images of his scarred shoulders out of your mind.

“I have one in my car,” he tells you with that familiar gentle smile, but now it carries a different weight to it. Is that just you, though? Could you be overthinking this all?

You let out a heavy sigh and aggressively rub at your eyes as Sweets walks away. Why hadn’t he told you about it? You could guess the cause, not many wounds left marks like those, plus, in your field of work you are exposed to all kinds of scars. Did he not want you to know? Why wouldn’t he want you to know?

“Are you okay?”

You look over to Doctor Brennan, the heavy weight in your chest growing almost impossible as you blurt out, “Lance has scars on his back.”

“Scars? What kind of scars?” She peers at you with that perplexed expression of hers.

“Almost like he’d been…” You pause and flex your fingers to keep your nails from digging into your palms, “Like he’d been whipped. They were old.”

“Has he not talked to you about it before?”

“No, do you think that means something?”

She tilts her head, almost like a dog, not that you’d ever say that out loud, “I am not sure what you mean.”

“Well, I mean, we’ve been dating for a year now, don’t you think, I don’t know, don’t you think he would have told me something like that?” You bite down harshly on your lip, “Does he not trust me with his past?”

“It is best to not assume what Sweets might be thinking,” Doctor Brennan murmurs in that ever present, logical tone.

It’s not much, but it’s enough to placate you a little. She’s right after all. You have to gather the evidence before making any inferences. It’s possible Lance just wants to forget whatever happened to him, which you can understand. Horrible things are sometimes best left in the past. Taking a deep breath, you roll your shoulders and give your hands a good shake.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yep!” You squeak and turn back around to face Lance, who at some point snuck up behind you, “Peachy! Just fine! Is everything- Is everything okay with you? Not cold anymore?”

“I’m warming up,” he replies with a lecherous grin, “Though I could use some help.”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks when Sweets spreads his arms wide for a hug. The slight twinge of self consciousness doesn’t stop you from tucking in close though, fingers linking together at the small of his back.

He rests his chin on top of your head gently, “Is everything really okay?”

Of course he’d notice. You weren’t being the most subtle you guess.

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” You promise quietly and hide your face in his coat.

“Okay.”

“I suppose we should head back now. Booth will want to question Murderbreath if he’s well enough,” Brennan calls out to you as she heads to her car, “Will you be driving back with Sweets, (Y/n)?”

“Sure! If he’s okay with it!” You turn your eyes up to him questioningly.

“Of course.”

And just like the gentleman he is, Lance takes you back to the lab, leaving you with the promise to talk after work. You do your job with as much attention as usual, but in the back of your head, you can’t stop thinking about how on earth you're going to broach the subject.

How do you ask someone about something you probably weren’t meant to see? You know he probably won’t get angry, Lance has always been patient and oh so sweet (his name really did fit him). You just don’t want to cross any boundaries. Should you wait? Should you ask Booth about it first? No, no that’s a terrible idea, he would just get all awkward. You groan and set down the tibia you're currently looking at. It’s all so frustrating!

You’ll just have to do it. Lance always says communication is the most important part of any relationship. Even if you don’t know how to start it, you're sure he’ll know how to direct the conversation!

With that in mind, you wrap up quickly and wish Doctor Saroyan goodbye as you head out of the lab. Lance is waiting just outside for you, leaning back against his car’s hood. All the makeup from before has been cleaned off and his hair is back to its normal fluffiness.

“Well hello there handsome,” you chirp, leaning up to peck to his cheek, “Good to see you back to normal.”

Lance laughs softly, “Was it really that bad?”

You purse your lips for a second, glancing away when you think back to his outfit. The makeup was a bit much, but the rest of it…

“Oh, maybe not, huh?”

Oh gosh, are you blushing again? You quickly bury your face in his chest, which is rumbling with his laughter. How embarrassing! Could your face go just a minute without lighting up today? It felt like every second, there was something that made your cheeks flush. It’s a wonder how you haven’t just turned into a tomato yet.

“Shut up,” is all you end up grumbling, “Will you take me home now?”

“Sure.” He gives you a small squeeze, “Hop in.”

You practically dive into the passenger seat to avoid anymore discussion of your embarrassment. Knowing Lance, he’d use this to tease you for quite a while. You just hope he’ll go easy on you, especially around your colleagues. You’d probably die if he brought this up around Doctor Brennan or Doctor Saroyan. Or even Hodgins, because goodness knows how he’d make fun of you for the rest of time.

During the drive back to your apartment, Lance intertwines his fingers with yours and rests them in his lap, thumb tracing over your knuckles. It’s enough to calm the jitters vibrating in your chest. It’s like the embarrassment and anxiety over your upcoming conversation have swirled together in a chaotic rush.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you now?” Lance breaks the silence of the car, though he keeps his voice soft.

You take a deep breath. Everything in your head has led up to this, you can do it.

“I...I saw the scars...on your back…”

His hand stiffens in yours, not much, but just enough for you to notice.

Things fall quiet for a few seconds. You watch Lance’s face nervously. His eyebrows synch down just the slightest bit and his lips press into a thin line. You can practically see him thinking the whole thing out in his head. The gears turning, the conflict, the small flash of pain. It makes your heart ache.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Lance,” you reassure him softly, “It’s okay.”

Those honey orbs glance at you before locking back on the road. You really wish you weren’t in the car right now, so that he didn’t have to split his focus like this. Whatever this is, it can’t be a light topic.

“I’m okay,” Lance finally says, “It’s okay. This is something I’ve worked through, we can, we can talk about it.”

Good, that’s good. You weren’t going to push it if he didn’t want to talk about it, but it lifts the weight in your chest to know he’s open to it.

“Can we wait until we get to your place though?”

“Of course, of course!”

You settle back into your seat, though your hand stays firmly in Sweets’. It’s a comfort to you both. The rest of the drive goes by fast, thankfully, and before you know it, you’re right outside your apartment building. Even as you walk up to your place, Lance trailing behind you, your fingers stay linked.

“Want anything to drink?” You ask as you toss your jacket on a hook and slip off your shoes.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbles and slips into the living space.

You pace about your small kitchen in an attempt to keep yourself busy, but find nothing to do, so you slip onto the couch next to the psychologist. You sit close enough for your knee to brush his, but hopefully not close enough to crowd him.

Lance scratches the back of his neck with a sigh and starts, “So, you know how I grew up in the foster system for a bit?”

“We’ve talked about it, yeah.”

“Well,” his voice comes out a little shaky so he pauses. You scoot closer to rest a hand on his knee, to ground him. His hand covers yours and he sends you a grateful smile before starting again, “Well, when I was young, I ended up in a bad foster home, and um, and the foster dad-” another heavy pause, “-he would beat me.”

Your heart absolutely sinks at those words, at how meek he sounds now, compared to your usually self-assured, outspoken boyfriend. How could this happen to someone like him? Someone so wonderful and gentle, someone who does everything he can to help others? No wonder he never told you about it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Lance,” you murmur in a gentle tone.

He draws his shoulders back a bit with a deep breath. It’s like he’s letting the weight slowly slip from them as he leans back into the couch. You watch his face as it subtly shifts through several emotions, someone bad, some good, some just thoughtful. Eventually, he raises an arm, a silent signal for you, to which you curl into his side. His fingers trace along your arm before settling on your elbow and giving it a small squeeze.

“Don’t be sorry. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I didn’t go through that,” he reminisces, voice still quiet, “I might not have joined the FBI, might not have...met you.”

You look up at him, touched yet worried at the same time.

“I might not have had the best childhood, but I’m living a good life now. If I can stop it from happening to someone else, then it’s all been worth it,” he says, the brightest, most genuine smile lighting up his lips.

The awe that hits you almost sucks the breath from your lungs. You can’t help but just sit there and stare up at Sweets adoringly. It’s like his heart is made of pure gold, something that can’t be touched or soiled by the hardships of his past. He’s your greatest treasure, holding more value to you than anything you could ever hold, touch, even be near. He’s...absolutely amazing.

“I love you, Lance.” You can’t help it when the words slip off your tongue.

Those eyes are once again set on you, swimming with unbridled content, peace. They sweep you away into their depths, and all you can do is to wrap your arms around him to keep yourself anchored. He pulls you close, lips pressing oh so softly against your forehead.

“I love you too, (Y/n).”

*Bonus*

“You want me to wear it again?”

“Maybe…”

“Really?” His tone comes out teasing, eyebrow perched high as he gazes down at you.

“You’re so mean,” you huff, not even bothering to hide your blush this time.

Lance only laughs and bows down to press his lips to yours briefly, though it’s enough to set your heart racing.

“I’ll go change now, if you’d like,” he hums, throwing you a little wink as he steps out of the room.

“Jerk,” you grumble under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

I hope you enjoyed this story! It was a tad longer than usual, but it’s something I’ve been wanting to write for a while! This is one of my favorite episodes :)

As always, if you have any requests, don’t be afraid to ask! I’ll write for Sweets, Aubrey, and most of the interns! Love y’all!

#Bones #bones reader insert #bonestv #lance sweets #Dr Lance Sweets #dr lance sweets x reader #lance sweets x reader #sweets #sweets x reader #Temperance Brennan #reader #reader insert #x reader #Self Insert

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chaeiimimi · 3 years

Text

How I Met Your Mother

Timeskip!Kuroo x Fem!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: None

it was a fine afternoon, the sunlight illuminated your whole house, the noise from the tv in the background and Kuroo was on the coffee table catching up with some of his paper works he failed to finish during the weekend, he casted a quick glance at your five- year-old son who was reading a science encyclopedia, Tetsuya was basically his carbon copy, from his feline eyes, to his raven black bed hair not to mention the same love for science and hyena laugh, they would pass as twins. You were out with your friends (Yaku’s and Kai’s wife), therefore he was in charge of the house for the day.

Kuroo went back to his task when he saw his son immersed in his encyclopedia. Not even five minutes have gone by and his son was walking towards him dragging along his Brontosaurus plushie his Uncle Kei got him, his son tugged on his shirt and he tears his eyes away from his computer to look at his son

“hey buddy, you want a snack?” he lovingly ruffled his son’s hair

Tetsuya nod “want dino nuggies daddy” man literally had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from screeching at how adorable his son is

“alright, daddy’s gonna make you dino nuggies” he says taking off his reading glasses and going to the kitchen while his son trailed behind him like a lost puppy

He sat Tatsuya on the counter’s chair while he brings out the dino nuggies and some ingredients for a sandwich and lemonade as well

“daddy?” his son called out to him and he answered with a hum while taking the nuggets out of their container

“how did you and mom meet?” he looked at his son who was looking at him with the most curious eyes

There was an instant tug on the corner of his lips as he remembered that day, internally slapping his face for feeling like a giddy teenager again

He went back with his work on the chicken nuggets and started

“well…”

Aside from the sound of the chalk screeching against the board and the voice of his Literature teacher, it was a rather quiet afternoon.

Time seems to be going by slowly for Kuroo, he was uncontrollably tapping his feet and drumming his fingers on his desk, he was eager to get out of this class which was the last class for the day, he was eager to practice, the pressure of the upcoming nationals weighed heavy on his shoulders, his mind was filled with volleyball and classes and college applications that he was barely eating and sleeping

When the resounding bell that marked the end of the class, he immediately got out of his seat and hurriedly walked towards the door only to be blocked by the class president

“where do you think you’re going Kuroo-san? You’re on plant duty today”

He inwardly groaned, how could he forget? Today was Friday

He dragged his feet back inside, placed his bag on his chair and proceeded to look for the water can

He found it on its usual place and walked outside to fill it up, once done, he went to the classroom’s backyard and saw you with gloves on, your hair on a clip as you patiently pull out weeds

Kuroo swears his heart skipped a beat when you looked at his way and gave him a small awkward smile

He walked over beside you, took the gloves in his pocket, put it on, and started pulling some of the weeds as well

“so, which class are you from?” he asked nervously trying to strike up a conversation

“the same class as you, see?” he looked up and saw that you were pointing at the sign with your class on it

A million thoughts were running in his head like, “how come I never saw her before?” “Has she always been in our class?” “Did I come out as rude?”

Until he heard a chuckle coming from you

“don’t worry, I get that a lot” you say as you continue to pull out weed

“I’m L/N Y/N by the way, Ayumi-chan is sick that’s why you’re stuck with me for now” you said and gave him another smile

‘I don’t mind’ he wanted to say that but he decided to just nod

“the nationals, it’s next week right?” you asked still not looking at him

“yeah” he answers

“well, good luck to you and your team, I’m the only one in the class who hasn’t wished you luck yet” you said as you started digging some holes to put your new seeds in

“thanks, I need a whole lot of that stuff” he chuckled nervously

“well, I never thought I’d see the great Kuroo Tetsuro get nervous” it was true, Kuroo always appeared composed and confident, the total opposite of you who was shy and demure

“I’m still human you know?” you watch him as he pulls out a particularly large weed

You chuckled and nodded

“you look like you need a break” you say and went back to your own work

It was now his turn to look at you and tilt his head in confusion

You looked at him and pointed your finger to his face

“the bags under your eyes are telling me you haven’t had a goodnight sleep in these past few weeks, your cheeks has slightly deflated implying that you haven’t been eating much, plus you don’t laugh at Tadashi-Sensei’s stupid science jokes anymore, meaning you’re not really having fun or something’s wrong”

You put your finger down after voicing out your long observation and went back to your task

Kuroo was stunned to say the least, he thought he was putting up a good façade, boy was he wrong

While realization was just hitting you and your eyes widen

“PLEASE DON’T TAKE THAT IN A CREEPY WAY, PEOPLE RARELY TALK TO ME SO I LIKE OBSERVING THEM FROM AFAR!” you immediately blurted out

There was a long deafening silence before a hyena-laugh broke out

“its fine its fine” he said in between laughter while you stood there with a flushed face

“It’s just that you were the last person I expected to hear that from” he said after laughing

You gave him a small shrug

“I just don’t like to see people losing interest in something they’re passionate about” you look at him and smiled

“if you envision the ideal outcome of what you’re doing and it doesn’t spark you joy, then there’s no point of doing it” your words dug its way into Kuroo

You went back to your work and continued “I think that you are very passionate about volleyball and I can see that school is important for you as well, you just need to take a step back, look at the bigger picture and tackle every situation one by one, you can’t experience the dream you had for three years with that depressed look in your eyes”

He freezes on the spot, everything you said digging its way to his system, a flash of relief spreading throughout his body, he felt his vision slowly widening, and for the first time in two weeks he felt tired and hungry

The birds chirping, and the sound of water trickling from the water can were the only things that were heard, the setting sun illuminated your skin as it perfectly glowed and you happily planting the new seeds into the dirt will always be engraved in his mind and heart as one of his most peaceful memory

“hey, I’m getting food after this, do you wanna come?” he asked his eyes pleading you to say yes

You were taken aback but you eventually nodded with a small “sure”

and so you spent the rest of the day eating at a ramen store with Kuroo (man was hungry he literally finished three bowls) and went to an ice cream parlor for dessert

After walking you home, Kuroo laid in his bed his hair wet from the shower as he sends a chat to the volleyball team apologizing for skipping practice

“good thing you did, you looked like you were falling apart”- Yaku

“you looked like a zombie from the house of the dead”- Kenma

“you badly needed it man”- Kai

He shook his head as he opens another chat box, his bright smile turning into a soft one

“hey, thanks for today, I had fun”- Kuroo

“i don’t even know what I did but you’re welcome? Thanks for the treat”- Y/N

“… and that’s how I met your mother, we went hung out very often after that and I asked her out after the Nationals” he said as he placed the food in front of Tetsuya, the giddy smile still plastered across his face

“Mom talked a lot to cheer you up even though she’s shy” he says as he takes a bite of his dino nuggies

“well she did confess to me that she liked me since the first year of junior high on our wedding night” he says with a smug look on his face

“you could’ve just leave that part out” both of the boys turn their heads toward you

your son immediately got off his chair and ran towards you as you lift him up and hugged him tight, he started talking to talk about everything he discovered while reading and you listening to every word he says, with a mother smile plastered on your face.

your husband stood there, staring at you, eyes filled with love and adoration. He was pretty sure he was a hero who died for his country in his past life. There was no other explanation on how he got this lucky, how he managed to get the most perfect wife the world could offer and how he was given the most perfect son he could ever ask for.

staring at you as you smile gently to your son, he didn’t know it was still possible to fall even harder even after being together for fourteen years.

omg this is my first ever post, It’s kind of a mess but please bare with me I am still learning.

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #timeskip!kurooxreader haikyuu x y/n

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studyingsobriety · 3 years

Text

Relapsing

Relapsing. For non-addicts, “addiction” is the big and scary word. For recovering addicts, “relapse” is the real big and scary word.

So let’s start with the basics. What is a relapse?

If you’re not familiar with the word, I suggest doing a little researching on the topic, but here is a link to a basic definition and explanation of a relapse.

As the article mentions, relapsing is totally normal for recovering addicts. Trying to quit an old habit and be totally done it with it forever is scary, and very hard needless to say. Plus, for lots of recovering addicts, including myself, the relapsing process is a huge growth experience.

That being said, I am not at all condoning, suggesting, or recommending ANYONE to relapse. Experiencing a relapse is not fun, which I will get into here in a moment. If you feel perfectly fine being sober, don’t try a relapse just on a whim. I promise you, you will regret it. But what if you are feeling like relapsing?

Before I get too into what it’s like experiencing a relapse or how handle a relapse, let me tell you something that may blow your mind: A relapse begins weeks or even months before the action of using again happens. It’s crazy, right? So let’s say right now, you’re experiencing high cravings and you’re really thinking about giving in. Your relapse process has already started...probably days or weeks before you even started getting the cravings.

A relapse is a process that happens over months or weeks. A process full of occasional triggers (external and internal, like emotions) and behaviors that feed into your cravings.

Here is how the process works in 10 stages (they don’t always have to happen in this order):

1. Denial - You’re concerned about your wellbeing, but you’re in denial of that concern.

2. Avoidance & Defensive Behaviors - You may start worrying about others more than yourself. You may also experience impulsive or compulsive behaviors.

3. Crisis Building - You may experience tunnel vision due to anxiety and/or depression. You’ll start to lack in planning things out, and when you do try to plan things out, you fail to do them.

4. Immobilization - You may find yourself “checking out” a lot or daydreaming.

5. Confusion and Overreaction - You feel confused about how you’re feeling and may also feel irritated.

6. Depression - You’ll experience a lack of routine and poor eating and sleeping habits.

7. Behavioral Loss of Control - You’ll start rejecting help from anyone. If you’re in a support group or recovery program, you may stop attending meetings.

8. Recognition of Loss of Control - You’ll realize you’ve lost control of your behavior. You’ll isolate yourself, pity yourself, and possibly lie to others saying you’re fine.

9. Option Reduction - You may stop getting help or treatment. You’ll resent sobriety. You’ll tell yourself the only ways out of this is by suicide or using again.

10. Relapse Episode - The relapse episode is when you finally use, causing bio-psycho-socio damage to your nervous system.

Here are some signs the you or a recovering addict is slipping into the relapse process:

- expressing doubt

- depression or anxiety

- anti-social

- surrounding yourself with substance use

- saying you have it “under control”

- experiencing unfamiliar emotions

- all or nothing thinking (for example: well I already took a small sip, one glass wouldn’t hurt)

- change in attitude about sobriety (for example: it’s not worth staying sober)

- constant stress and lack of healthy coping mechanisms

- change in routine

Here are some behaviors that may feed into your cravings:

- poor diet

- excessive caffeine or nicotine

- lack of exercise

- poor stress management

- euphoric recalls of usage

- awfulizing abstinence

- magical thinking about using

- empowering cravings (giving it more power and control over yourself; too hard to resist)

- denial and evasion (denying the recovery programs are helpful)

- social conflicts

- lack of communication

Now that we’ve talked some about what can lead up to a relapse, here’s the real question: How do I stop myself from relapsing?

- BE AWARE OF YOUR EMOTIONS!!!

- recognize your triggers

- again, be aware of your emotions(!!!) and identify your behaviors. Are you feeling extra anxious or depressed? Are you no longer following through with your plans or routine?

- get busy! Fill your time with things that are proactive, things that will trigger the happy chemicals in your brain. Play with your pet, exercise, cook something, paint something (even if it’s ugly), do something!

- self care--PUT YOURSELF FIRST! You simply cannot take care of others as well as you could if you’re taking care of yourself! Drink water, get enough sleep, do things you enjoy, read a book!

- keep working toward your sobriety, even if you don’t want to

- maintain sober relationships. When you’re feeling anti-social, FORCE YOURSELF to reach out!

- know and avoid these setup behaviors I mentioned earlier

- when you get that euphoric recall, dismantle it. Yes, it may have felt amazing, but think about all the damage it’s caused.

- when you get a craving, wait it out. Cravings usually don’t last for longer than 30 minutes. Talk it out with a friend. Distract yourself by doing something else.

- finally, don’t shame yourself for getting a craving. Cravings are normal, no matter how long you’ve been sober. Accept your craving as normal, then go do something else!

Now that we’ve talked about what builds up to a relapse and how to prevent it from happening, what if you’ve already relapsed?

If you’re anything like me, or most addicts who relapse, you’re probably feeling very guilty and shameful. Whether your relapse happened just last night or it happened a month ago and you’ve been hiding your everyday usage from everyone...what you’re going through mentally and emotionally (and probably physically too) is a lot.

The hardest part of a relapse is being honest about it, especially if you’ve been using for some time and have been hiding it. I once lied to my friends, family, support group, and therapists about my days sober for 2 weeks straight until it broke me. But something someone in my group said stuck with me: “Secrets keep us sick.” It’s true. After lying to everyone about my sobriety for those two weeks, the thought of lying one more time turned my stomach upside down. And I was killing myself with shame, guilt, and drugs more and more and more.

The saddest part of a relapse are the reactions you’ll get when you are honest. You’ll get lots of “thank you for being honest with me” and “I know it took a lot of courage to come out and say that.” But you’ll lose a lot of trust in some people as well. People who don’t get it will blow up on you. Some people may be so upset they’ll say they can’t trust you anymore. What those people don’t know is that those aren’t the reactions we need at the moment. If you’re coming out about a relapse, you’re probably feeling loads of shame and guilt, and it’s hard not to continue to feel that way when others feed into it. You may even start to feel like losing hope.

But please don’t do that. The BIGGEST thing to know if you’ve just relapsed, is that it’s perfectly normal, that you can’t change what you’ve done in the past so there’s no point on dwelling on it, and that all you can do is move forward from here. What does that look like to you? Moving forward? It’s different for everyone, but it’s a question you should ask yourself. I’ll tell you this, it’s going to require lots of patience and hard work to stay sober. You’re going to have to really prove yourself to some people to regain that trust back. And it’s going to take lots of time, some longer than for others. Patience. It’s a growing process, you’re just experiencing the growing pains. Just keep doing your best. Your best is enough. :)

#sobriety #recovery #recovering addict #addiction #addict #drug addict #alcoholism #sober #support #motivation #relapse #relapsing #relapse prevention #relapse education #addiction education

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hardcasey · 3 years

Text

Soft Hands, Soft Hearts

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 1

Pairing: Wooley x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Wooley have been pining for each other for a while, but after a few drinks at 79′s, you gain the courage to make the first move.

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating/Warnings: G, this is just pure fluff 🥺

A/N: Okay, so I had the idea to make a series devoted to giving the background clones the love they deserve. I have ideas for a bunch of different clones, but if their are any specific boys you are interested in, please let me know! I started with Wooley because I was feeling soft and he is baby (sorry, I don’t make the rules) 😤 This installment is fluffy af, but I have some ideas for a smutty follow-up if there is any interest.

Also, a HUGE thank you to @delusionsxfgrandeur for both proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post it in the first place 💕

It had been months, but the 212th had finally returned to Coruscant after a particularly grueling campaign. The men, having received a week of well-earned shore leave, had barely gotten their feet on the ground before making a beeline to 79’s. Which is where you now sat, drunk off your ass amidst a sea of white and orange.

You were an information officer attached to the 212th and had quickly befriended many of its members, a feat you accomplished just by treating them with the most basic level of respect and consideration. All it took was you remembering their names and sneaking them in a few treats before they were all following you around like a pack of lost puppies. It made you very protective over them, they all were such good, soft boys who deserved the world. Especially Wooley, the clone currently sitting next to you in the booth you had all squeezed into.

He was younger then some of the other troopers like Waxer and Boil, still too shiny to have earned his colors yet. He was soft-spoken and somewhat shy, which only endeared him to you more. And he also had the softest, fluffiest looking hair you had ever seen, which he wore in an undercut that just accentuated the look for maximum poof.

The only thought in your head right now was how much you wanted to run your hair through it. I bet it feels like a cloud, you thought drunkenly as you stared at him unabashedly, no doubt grinning like an idiot. You had your chin resting in your hand and started to loll your head back and forth, basking in the pleasant buzz of the alcohol coursing through your system. Evidently, it had started to affect your fine motor skills since your chin slipped from your palm and you bumped your nose hard against the rim of your glass.

“Ow,” you winced as you rubbed your face, shooting a dirty look at Waxer as he snickered at you from across the table, drawing the attention of others.

“Had enough?” Cody asked, cocking up his eyebrow at you with a smile, an expression he had no doubt picked up from General Kenobi.

“Mmmh, I think this’ll be my last drink,” you replied, motioning to the half finished drink in front of you. You had reached the perfect level of drunkenness, just enough to leave you feeling carefree and happy without becoming too messy. The last thing you wanted was for one of the boys to have to drag your drunk ass back to your room, especially on their first night of leave.

Wooley caught your eyes as you settled back down, and you shot him a broad smile that made his heart beat faster. He could feel his cheeks heat up slightly and he smiled timidly back at you before you turned back to Cody, the two of you falling into a playful back and forth.

Wooley’s eyes fell to his hands, looking sheepish, and Boil chose that moment to kick him under the table. Wooley made an indignant noise at his vod’s antics, and was about to protest when Boil started darting his eyes at you repeatedly and mouthed ‘Talk to her’.

His brothers could read the hesitation on his face because Waxer swooped in and said lowly, “She’s been staring at you all night, vod. She likes you!”

Both Waxer and Boil knew of his giant crush on you, and had launched a campaign to get the two of you together, much to Wooley’s embarrassment. The two of them were not subtle and the last thing he wanted was the two of them making a scene in front of you. He took a long drink of whatever alcohol was in front of him, hoping to quell his nervousness.

With Wooley’s attention momentarily elsewhere, he missed the moment when Boil caught Cody’s eye and gave him a small nod. The Commander was also privy to their plans and masterfully steered the two of you’s conversation to Wooley’s recent accomplishments on the battlefield.

“You should have seen it, he jumped right on top of the spider spider droid and took it out faster than I could blink, isn’t that right Wooley?”

Wooley froze as you turned to look at him expectantly, barely managing not to choke on his drink. “Uhh, yeah,” was all he managed to come up with in response and he wanted to smack himself. Kriff, why was he so bad at this?

You rattled off a couple more questions at him, which he answered in similar fashion, though if you were bothered by it you didn’t show it. He nervously ran a hand through his hair as he desperately wracked his brain for something, anything to say.

Luckily, he was saved when you blurted out, “Can I touch your hair?” Apparently being drunk made you just say anything, huh, you chided yourself, hoping the booth would swallow you up whole.

You were completely surprised when he stuttered out, “S-sure,” and scooted closer to give you better access. Reaching up and running your fingers through his thick curls, you found that it was in fact softer than a cloud, a thought which made you start to giggle uncontrollably. Your laughter was infectious because soon enough, Wooley was laughing too.

You kept slowly playing with his hair, your hand sometimes wandering to the sides to feel the short hairs there. A shiver ran through his body at the sensation “That tickles,” he told you, eyes half lidded and words slightly slurred, though you couldn’t be sure if it was from the alcohol or something else.

Your fingers paused. “Oh, sorry. I can stop if you want.”

You started to pull your hand away but he caught you around the wrist gently. “No!” he said, maybe a little too loudly. He winced slightly and then much more softly he said “I like it,” before placing your hand back on his head.

You smiled and told him, “C’mere,” pulling him closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. “My arm was getting tired. This is much more comfy.”

“Mmm,” he agreed as he shifted to settle against you. His cheeks were still pink but he seemed much more relaxed now.

“So it sounds like you’ll be getting to paint your armor orange soon, huh?”

His eyes brightened at that and your heart clenched at the proud look that washed over his face. “Yeah! I have a few ideas of how I’m gonna paint it, but I haven’t decided on a final design yet.”

“What are some of them? I’ll help you make up your mind.”

~~~

By the time you all left the bar it was early in the morning, but the streets of Coruscant were still packed with people, all hoping to enjoy the first day of the weekend. You and the rest of your group weaved through the throngs of people as you made your way back to the barracks. Being short, you had a harder time pushing your way through the people and almost got separated from the group before someone grabbed your wrist and tugged you back into the group.

You stumbled towards whoever had rescued you, looking up to see it was Wooley. “Don’t wanna lose you,” he said gently and you felt your heart do a backflip. He had no business being this cute! None at all!

He hadn’t released your wrist yet, and maybe it was the alcohol making you braver than normal, but you decided to slip your hand into his. When he realized what you had done, he looked down at your joined hands and smiled up at you before the two of you raced to catch up with the rest of your group.

When you finally arrived at the barracks, you were about to reluctantly pull your hand away when Cody said, “Wooley, why don’t you walk her back to her room, just to make sure she gets back safely. We don’t want to lose our favorite information officer.”

“Uh, yes sir!” Wooley said with a salute, though he misjudged the force of his hand somewhat and thwacked himself in the eye instead. He was just thankful he had the alcohol as an excuse for his mistake, instead of the real reason, which was the look in Cody’s eyes that said ‘If you don’t ask her out tonight, you’ll be on latrine duty for a week.’

Without further ado, you bid the rest of the boys goodnight and started off towards your room, still hand in hand. Even though it was calloused, his hand was still so warm and nice against yours, and you never ever wanted this to end. You squeezed his hand lightly and your heart soared when you felt him squeeze back.

The walk to your room was about a thousand hours too short and you quickly found yourself standing in front of the door.

There was a beat of silence where the two of you just started at each other, both unsure of what to say. Wooley was racking his mind for a way to ask you out on a date, desperately hoping you couldn’t feel how sweaty his palm was.

You beat him to it, though, and asked, “Do you have any plans for this week?” If you don’t I was thinking we could, um, do something together tomorrow.” Your bravery faltered somewhat halfway through, but it didn’t matter because his eyes lit up and he nodded back vigorously.

“That sounds great!”

“Okay! I’ll think of some places we can go and text you in the morning so we can decide.”

“Great!”

There was another beat while you had an internal debate with yourself. Did you kiss him? Should you ask or just do it? Should you wait to see if he kissed you?! Little did you know that Wooley was having the exact same debate in his head, only about 100 times more panicked.

You decided that you had no more bravery left tonight and settled on running your hand up his arm and giving his bicep a little squeeze. “Goodnight! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” was all he could come up with as his brain short circuited. He watched with an awestruck expression as you went into your room, staring at the metal door in a daze for much longer than he’d like to admit. He realized he would look like a creep if he just hovered outside your room all night and quickly made his way back to the barracks with the biggest smile on his face.

The door to the barracks slid open and he paused as he came face to face with all of his vode, who all turned to look at him as he walked through the door. Even Cody had yet to retire to his personal quarters.

“Well, how’d it go?” Boil was the first one to break the silence and ask what everyone wanted to know.

“She asked me out!” Wooley told them, still smiling broadly.

The room was filled with cheers as all his brothers crowded around to congratulate him, patting him on the back and ruffling his hair affectionately. Despite all the attention, Wooley couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed.

~~~

“Try the other jacket,” Boil said from his perch on the top bunk.

Wooley shucked off the jacket he was wearing and quickly slipped his arms through the jacket Cody held out to him. “How do I look?”

“Hmm, let me see the first one again.” Boil’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he contemplated Wooley’s current outfit. They had been at this for the last twenty minutes, trying to figure out the best outfit for his date, which was happening in less than an hour.

“There are only two jacket options! And you’ve worn both of them multiple times, Boil!” Wooley moaned. The clones didn’t have much access to civilian clothes and the few they had managed to commandeer - mostly from the Lost and Found in the Coruscant Guards’ office - were shared between the lot of them. There was even a clothes economy of sorts that had developed between the various squads. In fact, the jacket he was currently wearing had been Cody’s prize for beating Rex at a game of Sabacc a few cycles past.

Wooley sighed before shooting Boil an apologetic look. He didn’t mean to sound unappreciative, after all his brothers had awoken early just to help him prepare, despite the hangovers they were undoubtedly nursing. He was just starting to feel nervousTM again.

Cody put his hand on Wooley’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking it, vod. Remember, she asked you out. She wants to spend time with you.”

“Who asked who out, now?” came a voice from behind them. They spun around to find General Kenobi leaning against the doorway, a steaming cup of caf in one hand.

“Wooley has a date today!” Waxer blurted out, smiling smugly as his younger brother shot him a look before turning back to address the general.

“They are, uh, trying to help me pick out an outfit to wear.”

“We can’t decide on a jacket, though,” Cody chimed in, holding the other option up for Obi-Wan to see. “What do you think, sir?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered back and forth, rubbing at his beard absentmindedly as he considered. “Actually, I have something in my quarters that’ll go well with the whole look. You can borrow it if you want, Wooley.”

“Oh no, sir, I couldn’t poss-” Wooley started, but the general ignored his protests, already starting to drag him towards his room.

Wooley stood ramrod straight in the middle of General Kenobi’s bedroom as the jedi rummaged around in his closet to search for the jacket in question. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act in this scenario, they had never covered it in training. Though he had learned that there were many things involving General Kenobi that he had been totally unprepared for.

“I know it’s in here somewhere.” Obi-Wan’s voice was muffled from behind the wall of clothing. “Ah, here it is!” He exclaimed before making his way back to Wooley. He blinked owlishly at the poor trooper in front of him, who looked so stressed out he was beginning to wonder if he’d need to call a medic.

“Is this your first time going on a date?” He asked gently as he helped Wooley into the jacket, spinning him around to fuss with the collar a bit.

“Is it that obvious?” Wooley asked with a shy smile.

“Everyone is nervous on their first date, don’t worry. I remember the first time I went out with someone. My hands were shaking so much I ended up accidentally spilling water all over them. Trust me, it gets easier,” he finished with a warm laugh.

Wooley was included to believe him. General Kenobi seemed to have a lot of experience in the romance department. Or at least it seemed that way, what with all the people who fawned over him. Maybe he would have some good advice for the question that had been plaguing his every thought since last night.

“Um, general, if I could ask… how do you go about, uh, kissing someone for the first time. I asked some of the others for tips and they all had different ideas, which just made everything more confusing.”

“Honestly, my best advice is to just ask them if you can kiss them. Many people find that really romantic. Wait for a moment that feels right, like a lull in the conversation when you two are close together. But most importantly, don’t stress yourself out about it. If it happens it happens, and if not just wait for another chance,” Obi-Wan patted Wooley on the head affectionately. “Now you should probably get going, you’re meeting them in twenty minutes.”

“How do you know-” He didn’t even get the question out.

“Cody.” Obi-Wan’s commander had come to him this morning seeking advice to give his little brother.

“Cody,” Wooley smiled fondly. He’d have to thank his commander later.

~~~

You were waiting on the sidewalk in front of the barracks, shuffling your feet awkwardly as your planned meetup time drew nearer. The two of you had decided earlier to spend time walking around one of the huge seasonal markets that was in town for a few days. You hadn’t gone on many dates before now and this morning had been a whole debacle, your roommate helping you pick out the perfect outfit for the occasion. You had eventually settled on something casual but still cute, and sighed with relief when you saw that Wooley had a similar idea. You were starting to worry that maybe you had gone too casual.

All of your nerves melted away once you saw him, looking like an absolute snack in that leather jacket. You decided to tell him as much as you offered him your hand.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you out of your armor. You look handsome. Love the jacket.”

Thank the Maker for Obi-Wan, Wooley thought as he took your hand and squeezed it fondly. “You look really great too!” He told you as the two of you made your way to the taxi stand, both pointedly ignoring the eyes of Wooley’s brothers trying and failing to be discrete as they started at you through one of the windows.

You two made your way downtown to the market, which was a place where people from every corner of the galaxy would come to sell their wares. It seemed to span multiple city blocks and was absolutely packed with people. The two of you flitted from one booth to the next, marvelling at the exotic wares in each one. As you shopped, you both ended up finding little trinkets and buying them for each other as a way to remember the day.

Before you knew it it was lunchtime and stopped to grab some food from one of the many vendors. The two of you found a place to eat nearby a troupe of street performers, snuggling up to each other as you ate and watched the show. When you got up, Wooley kept his arm around your waist and you were so happy that you were pretty sure you could leap twenty feet in the air like you had seen some of the Jedi do.

You passed by a stand selling cotton candy and could’t pass up the opportunity to see Wooley’s face when he tried it for the first time. You ripped off a big piece and held it out for him to try.

“It dissolved!” He said excitedly and you were pretty sure there were actual stars in his eyes.

As you and Wooley split the cotton candy, he thought back to what Obi-Wan told him and wondered if this was one of the moments he was talking about. You two were so close to each other and your lips were glistening pink with sugar and, Maker, he wanted to kiss you so badly right now.

He had just opened his mouth to ask you when a nearby animal bleated loudly. Your head whipped in the direction of the noise and from between people’s legs you spotted a small white animal that looked so incredibly fluffy.

“Oh stars,” you whispered, “It’s so cute. C’mon Wooley let’s get a better look!”

Without waiting for an answer, you started to tug him in the direction of the ball of fluff masquerading as an animal. He was briefly disappointed at the missed opportunity but was quickly distracted by the adorable animal in front of him. It was some sort of sheep-looking thing, only neither of you had seen one so fluffy. It’s fur was so thick that you could barely make out its face, making it look like a cotton ball with four nubby legs sticking out of the bottom.

Your head darted around looking for the owner because you had to pet it NOW. Your eyes landed on an elderly Ugnaught woman settled in a rocking chair. She was working on a knitting project, her knitting needles moving a mile a minute, and the displays around her were filled with bundles of plush looking yarn.

You waved your hand to get her attention. “Hi! Is this your sheep? Can we pet it?”

The old woman pushed the pair of thick, round glasses she wore higher up her nose as she spoke. “Of course, dearie. I have some food here if you’d like to feed her. Just cup your hands out like this and she’ll come right over.”

The woman poured some pellets into your outstretched hands and you quickly knelt down to offer it to the sheep. It let out another little bleat as it approached before promptly gobbling up everything with fervor. You giggled at her antics, her soft little tongue tickling your palms.

“Baaaaaa,” she whined up at you once she had finished, and the old lady scolded the little animal for acting like she was starving when she had just eaten an hour ago.

You turned to Wooley, who had been watching your interaction from off to the side. “Do you want to try feeding her too?”

“I-I’ve never fed an animal before…” He said hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy. I can help you if you want.” When he nodded you told him to cup his hands and the woman poured some more food for him to give the sheep. You had him kneel down next to you and helped him hold his palm out, cupping your hand under his. When you felt him trembling slightly, you ran your thumb soothingly across his wrist. He turned to look at you and, oh maker he was so close, you could just lean in an inch and kiss him. But no, you couldn’t get distracted right now, you had a hungry little sheep to feed.

You both turned back to the matter at hand and Wooley made a little noise in the back of his throat when the sheep came up to him, but he kept his hand out and the little animal started inhaling the food. “Ahh, it tickles!” Wooley gasped, a huge smile on his face.

Once you were done giving her treats, the three of you settled down on the floor of the little tent, the sheep moving between your laps as you took turns cuddling it. You both ended up taking pictures of each other with the sheep and the old woman even offered to take a picture of both of you with the sheep. You sat there for a while, chatting with the old lady, who had lived quite the life and had many interesting stories as a result. The conversation trailed off and you sat with your head on Wooley’s shoulder, the only sounds around you were the din of the market and the clacking of the woman’s knitting needles.

You peaked up at Wooley only to find him staring down at you. There was a beat before he suddenly asked, “Can I kiss you?”

He was about to start berating himself internally for asking so awkwardly, but all his thoughts stopped when you breathed out a soft, “Please.” And then you were cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against his, and nothing mattered anymore. You let out a contented sigh against his mouth and he moved his hand to rest on your hip.

You were both reluctant to separate, but a tug at your hair made you gasp and pull away, only to find the sheep chewing on a lock of your hair. Behind you, you heard a chuckle and you both turned to see the old woman looking at you both with a knowing twinkle in her eye. Both of your faces heated up as you realized you had just started kissing right in the middle of her store. The two of you started to apologize but she brushed it off with another laugh.

“You know, there is a tree in a park a few blocks from here. They call it the Lover’s Tree. My husband and I used to sneak off there for a bit of privacy,” she told you with a wink.

You thanked the woman profusely and even ended up buying some yarn as a thank you. Before you left, you both gave the sheep one more pat on the head before taking off and running towards the tree hand in hand.

#clone trooper wooley #wooley #wooley x reader #clone trooper wooley x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #i tried to think of soft things t\for them to do on their date... so cotton candy and petting sheep #also i imagine the sheep thing to look like the pokemon wooloo because wooley would DEF have one if he was a pokemon trainer

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extemely-thoughtful-person · 3 years

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50 followers special theory!!! (Prepare for a brain rot!!!)

Even MORE Chapter 6 Predictions: the Olympus Tech Company, RSA vs NRC details, and mini theory regarding the release date.

Now, your probably all getting impatient about Chapter six's release date. The events are something to look forward to, but it just doesn't answer what happens next in the main story line. But because of impatience, I would like to say something: it could be worse.

Seriously, I was (and still am) a fan of RWBY, and let me tell you. Their yearly hiatus is pure torture. Their release dates are in late October to early November, with their volumes ending anywhere around the end of February to early April. This leaves a time span of anywhere from 8 to 10 months between each volume. And the writing for that show isn't even close to as good as Twisted Wonderland's.

So I'm taking a second to appreciate not just the quality, but the speed of the writing and development of each chapter. Along with the effort that goes into each event, repair and update. Your doing great TWST crew! Keep up the good work!💕♥️

So, with that said, let's get to a few issues I've been thinking about for a while now.

The Olympus Tech Company

What We Know So Far

The Olympus Tech Company is one of the best tech companies in Twisted Wonderland. They sponsored the VDC voting system, and are a pretty big deal in the world. Upon receiving an invitation for an internship from the company, we learn from Ortho's reaction that getting something like this is a huge deal. It's probably a very rare occurrence for the company to undertake interns.

Idia got the intern easley enough, most likely due to his skill, and not social status. But, instead of accepting the invitation, he tossed it in the trash. Along with the rest of his invitations to work for other smaller companies.

Many people have been asking the very fair questions: Why would you throw away a great opportunity like that? What kind of past events would lead a person to toss away something that thousands of people would jump at the chance to do?

These kinds of questions are good, but this is the questions I've been asking: Did Idia make the right choice by throwing a valuable invite in the trash? Will his choice come back to bite him in the rear later on?

The reason why I ask these kinds of questions is because we don't know anything else about the Olympus Tech Company (OTC). For all we know they could premote enslavement there. (They obviously don't, but we don't really know that)

So because we know so little about the company, I decided to consult the next most accurate source besides the game, the Hercules movie. More specifically, mount Olympus, and it's residents. And I gotta say, some of the stuff I found at the beginning of the film was more than enough to make an educated guess as to what kind of company the OTC is really like.

And it's not as good as the universe makes it out to be.

My Research and Opinions regarding Olympus

Before I formally begin, allow me to cast some light on a very important factor that will change your whole output on the movie. Remember the first song that's preformed by the Muses, the Gospel truth right? This song is preformed throughout the film in smaller parts, but the whole concept of the song is very disturbing if you think about it like this. Although the title Gospel refers to the type of music used in the song, it is also a reference to something else: the perspective of the whole story. Gospel means "good message" or " good word" but it is also referred to as "the word of God".

And in this case, the word of the gods of Olympus. Or even Zeus himself. But do you realize what that means? This story is told from the perspective of the Olympians. But what about any input from a neutral party? Or even a question or two from Hades himself about the situation from his point of view?

Nope. It's just the Olympian's perspective. That's probably why Hades is depicted with more monstrous features, because they saw him as the villain.

Keep this Gospel detail in mind, because it comes in as a very important factor later on.

Now, where to begin?

The Titans

From what I could gather the titans are the primal monsters of this whole movie. They're mindless powerhouses that walk the face of the earth until Zeus comes along and traps them under the ocean. The only way to free them is to wait for the planets in the solar system to align perfectly, which in turn should cut a path through the waters and, with the help of a god, free them.

And right off the bat, there are several things that I'm questioning. Like, If Zeus put them down there in the first place, then what's to stop him from doing it again? Why is Hercules the only one who can beat the titans in round two? And despite the almighty power of the Olympian counsel, how did dozens, if not hundreds of gods lose to the titans when Zeus defeated them by himself in the first place? And how in Hade's name did Hercules beat them all? And he's lesser than all the gods at this point! How?! HOW?!??!!!

Besides that, there's not to much else to say about them. But they could be important...

Olympus

Okay, there's a lot of things I've noticed about Olympus itself. Btw, I'm not talking about the gods of Olympus, just the place itself.

Firstly, everything is made of clouds. If something gets destroyed, then it automatically repairs itself. But I think that the cloud structures of the buildings isn't just a callback to the heavens, but it reminds me of a place that seems unreal. Like, something like this isn't supposed to exist. "It's too good to be true" kinda place. It looks like a paradise, like a perfect place to live, like a place everyone would want to live.

Which brings me to my next observation: the gates to Olympus are closed. I feel like this detail is more important than you may realize. It could mean that only the gods and goddesses are allowed up here, it could mean that you need to earn your ticket there as well. One things for sure, not just anyone can waltz up there like they own the place, there's a certain type of person that's allowed up here. If you don't fit the status quo, then you aren't welcome.

Besides the gates being closed, anyone who can go over or are authorized can and do go in. But don't expect to get there without a ticket.

The gods

This is where things get dark.

The gods and goddesses of Olympus are very chill up close the first time we see them. They seem like nice people, just hanging out in heaven enjoying a paradise. They got invited to a party to celebrate a reasonable event that anyone should enjoy. Nothing seems to be wrong about this, right?

Well, when Hades enters the picture for the first time the atmosphere gets dark. It's because it's a very rare occurrence for the god of the underworld to be in Paradise. Even the other gods are wary of his presence. But Zeus did invite him because they're brothers, right? Family inviting family for a nice reunion? Hades is just being ungrateful, he's killing the mood and it's his fault, right?

No. It isn't Hades fault for anything. Mostly.

Remember what I said about the Gospel truth? How the story it told from the prospective of the Olympians? This is where that prospective comes into play.

Hades is just terrible from the olympian point of view. Is he actually bad though? No. I think that Hades is better than all the gods on Olympus combined. And the interactions tell us a lot, and give us information to back this up.

For one Hades says that most of what the gods actually do is just...well... nothing. They just hang out on Olympus partying and enacted what they call "divine justice" on the mortals. They just cash royalty sacrifices from their temples on earth, get human worship, and laze around while they do next to nothing. We even see this later in the movie.

Hades on the other hand has the full time job of ruling the underworld, which I might add is a huge responsibility. You gotta make sure that the dead come to the underworld, make sure they get the proper judgement, and you need to make sure they don't try to escape into the living world. This job takes up most of Hade's time, but like I mentioned in a previous post about Ignihyde being about adapting, Hades manages to make the job doable by only one person keeping the underworld in order. But even with the shortcuts involved, it's still a pretty hard job.

And get this, Zeus gave...no forced this job on to Hades. The poor guy didn't even get a say in the matter. He didn't get to choose, but instead a cosmic rando of a brother just walked up to him and said " Hey, bro! Imma gonna give you a job away from home that's gonna be a bit tough, but don't worry! All you gotta do is keep an entire realm that is just as big if not bigger than Olympus under control. Make sure the dead don't come up to the surface to start a zombie apocalypse! Okay? Okay! Love ya! Thanks!"

And Zeus doesn't even bother to help Hades in anyway. So basically, while the gods just sit on cloud cushions doing next to nothing, Hades is down in the underworld doing an important, thankless job just because his younger brother gave him that responsibility without his input.

I did say Olympus was full of nice people, I never said they were good.

And what Zeus did to Hades? It's disgusting because Hades did nothing to deserve this treatment. And wanna know something else? Inviting Hades to a party on Olympus is just a huge insult rather than a nice reunion. Because Zeus is basically saying, " Hey bro! Welcome back to the paradise we practically kicked you out of! It's such a nice party we're having, reminding you of everything your missing out on! Isn't my son adorable? It's so nice that he was born into a place like this, and loved by everyone just because his father is the king. Btw, no one finds your jokes funny because, if we're being honest, you don't really belong here!" And Zeus even has the audacity to tell Hades to stay longer. Wanna know why he does that? It's because if Zeus just told Hades to leave then it would make Zeus look bad, telling his own brother to go. In reality, it would be nicer to Hades to just tell him he's not wanted than making yourself look better by keeping him in a place that's out of his league.

So I'm asking the question, is Hades right to try and take Olympus?

In many cases, yes. However the way he goes about it isn't that great. But honestly, I don't blame him for wanting to tear his deadbeat family apart.

Another question that I ask myself: If Hades was allowed to stay in and rule Olympus, would he do a better job?

Actually, yes. I believe he would, because even though Hades would enjoy himself up there, he has a productive personality. He managed to make running the underworld easier for himself, so it would be cake for Hades to be in charge of Olympus. Not only that, but he could do so much better because he would not just find ways to cut corners with quality work, his presence would make things farer for everyone else.

Remember what I said earlier about the status quo? That only the gods are allowed on Olympus? Hades may be a god, but it's made clear from his first appearance and the Olympian's reactions that he doesn't fit the status quo. Monsters, and other creatures don't fit the mold either, and are gazed upon as, well, monsters. But, if Hades was in charge, then I'm willing to bet he would try and find a use for the cast outs. After all, in the underworld, he has Cerberus guarding the dead, Pain and Panic working as minions carrying out smaller jobs for the god, and the Fates, who are informants giving Hades accurate information. All of the characters above don't fit the status quo, and yet, Hades still relies on them to lend a hand and trusts they'll do their jobs. (They don't always, but at least they try.)

If I'm being honest here, I don't think that Hades isn't worthy of Olympus, I think Olympus isn't worthy of Hades. Because as far as we've seen, none of the gods even come close to doing something as important or as difficult as Hades.

The Olympus Tech Company And what it might be like

So, taken all this information about Olympus, what do we think the OTC is like?

The answer is a garbage company.

Its probably just like any mega corporation that hires underpaid workers who work in poor conditions while the higher-ups do next to nothing, living a life of luxury while certain people below them are working hard to earn a living.

That's the basic gist of the company. They probably don't let anyone move up the ranks unless that person is appealing in some way. Basically if you fit their status quo, then you get a raise, maybe a better position. Who knows? Maybe they steal ideas from their lower employees. They don't actually care about any of them though.

And the stuff they program and produce is probably something like today's corporations would be able to produce. Their company is modern, but not advanced, though they probably think it's advanced compared to lesser companies. The type of technology their company produces is most likely the equivalent to our modern day tablets, phones, and computers. Just stamp a brand on it and OMG you've got the latest tech from the OTC. They probably also care about quantity over quality, meaning that they're willing to sell more of their products rather than products of good condition. Unless you wanna pay more for quality.

What about interns? What sort of treatment do they get?

Idia got an invitation to become an intern during his fourth year, and that's supposed to be a big deal, given how rare they are. But if we're right about the company being garbage, would they show that to interns? Probably not because that could cause a dent in their reputation. As for treatment of the interns, they would get treated well enough, definitely better than the factory workers who have been in the company way longer.

So comparing the OTC to Ignihyde, The OTC would definitely have more respect (which they do not deserve) and Ignihyde would be more advanced (but they're not too big on credit).

Olympus and OTC comparison

What do both places and people have in common?

Both have Lazy higher-ups who take all the credit

Both have a class in the company who don't fit the status quo

While the Olympians do nothing, the OTC's technology refects the higher-ups lazy attitudes

Both the highest don't care about the people below them

Both will use whatever means necessary to secure their reputation, wealthe, and possition

Hades and Idia comparison

Both do important jobs that they had no say in getting ( they didn't ask for this, guys)

Both feel left out, but have gotten used to it overtime

Both are good at finding shortcuts and making good use of resources

Both can change their strategy when the situation calls for it

Both don't fit the status quo

Both disapprove of the normal people ( Idia thinks they're just NPCs while Hades thinks the dead are boring)

Both hate people, and they both probably have bad blood within their families

So basically Idia's reaction if he ever got to see the OTC up close? He'd either nope the heck outa there, or if he ever took the opportunity and made it big in the company, he'd turn it on it's head and completely reform it.

OTC vs Ignihyde

So what kinda conflict is gonna strike between these two very different places?

Well, to start off, I wasn't sure what kind of conflict would strike out between an NRC dorm and an entire company. So, again I looked at Hercules and picked out the first big enemy. So, let's look at the threat at the beginning of the movie, the Titans.

I said they would be important somehow, and at first, I wasn't sure. I tried thinking of something that could fit as a titanic threat. Maybe an unstable invention, a nuclear weapon, or perhaps a powerful discovered Magical artifact? All things considered, no matter what is was, it was going to be imprisoned by the CEO of the Olympus Tech Company for not just safety reasons, but for research purposes. The problem was coming up with what exactly.

And then, the realization hit me with the force of Ares's chariot.

Ortho Shroud is based off of the Titans from the movie.

Yes, yes, I know. Outrageous claim. But there is a lot of evidence to support this Theory.

Firstly, the Titans were seen as huge primal monsters causing endless natural disasters such as hurricanes, volcanoes, and earthquakes. They were left unchecked until Zeus imprisoned them all.

Taking a look at Ortho, we've seen time and time again that he's capable of causing mass destruction as well. His archetype gear fired a powerful beam of magic that destroyed a tree, his star gazer gear is capable of punching through storm clouds (which, btw are huge) tearing up the sports field in the process, and he almost leveled the entire college during the Ghost marriage event. And these are only a handful of times we've seen him ready to use violence and destruction as the solution to the problems at hand. Basically, Idia is good at designing destructive weapons, and Ortho's outfits are perfect examples of this. Not to mention there was more than one Titan and Ortho has several different outfits each one capable of causing a different kind of mass destruction.

The next, and probably the most important tie these two groups have in common is this: lightning.

Zeus imprisoned the Titans with his thunderbolts, and they hold a grudge against him because of it. They don't like lightning.

Well, guess what? Ortho doesn't like lightning either. Now, we don't know exactly why. There a number of different reasons, and here are a few guesses:

Lightning killed the original Ortho

He can malfunction due to a lightning strike

It's a part of the Shroud family curse

He thinks its annoying

We still don't know exactly why, but a distaste for lighting is a definite connection.

And what happened to the Titans? They were imprisoned by Zeus.

And what do you think's gonna happen to Ortho in the next chapter?

Once the OTC finds out the truth about Ortho, and that he's actually a robot, they're gonna want answers. Why is your brother a robot? How did he manage to build something like this? It's just an AI, right?

And when they see how much damage Ortho can cause, the head of the company is going to want him contained. So the base of conflict between dorm and company? It's not just Ortho that's at stake, but the entire dorm. The OTC may be a bigger deal than Ignihyde, but the dorm is probably centuries ahead of any tech company. In a previous post, I listed off a few things I wanted to see as Ignihyde's unique feature. One of the things that I mentioned is a data archive. If the dorm has a library for all their knowledge, which probably contains lots of info for magical technically, then who wouldn't say that could be of some value to the Olympus Tech Company?

I wouldn't be surprised if the OTC took some of it's inspiration from the actual disney company in america because those guys are basically known for taking something, rewriting and rebranding it, then claiming all the credit for whatever they did. It would make perfect sense to have the company based off of the real life company who it's owned by. The whole Hercules movie was written by two people who highlighted disney's flaws of merchandising and branding and threw those into the movie. A subtle but realistic joke about Hercules's popularity and how it's used by the company.

The OTC and their possible ties to RSA

Now, it's not just going to be The Olympus Tech Company vs Ignihyde this chapter, we've still got RSA to worry about. Throwing an entire school towards an entire dorm would be a little unfair, so the rest of NRC would definitely be involved with the annual school vs school Magift tournament.

I've already covered the possibility of RSA cheating for a century in a row. I'm holding on to that theory because if these bozos win without some kinda godly trump card or rule violation and just because they're the perfect players from the perfect hero school, I'm gonna burn that prep academy to the ground, sow the ground with salt, and throw the ashes of the school into a volcano! I'll take great pleasure watching that volcano erupt, destroying the remains of that blasted, stupid institution once and for all!

Alright, you get the point. Making a perfect academy would be the worst thing you can do.

But what if it's not just the Magift tournament? What if they were cheating at the VDC as well?

How could they though? It's decided by a majority vote which is done in real time by the people. How could they tamper with the people's votes?

They messed with the voting system. And the OTC were sponsoring that, right? The Olympus tech company is responsible for NRC losing again. Now, I'm not saying that they convinced more people to vote for RSA, I'm saying they actually messed with the numbers. And since they sponsored the system, all those votes were completely at their mercy. They could've made some invalid, deleted a few, and in the end the results were the same. RSA came out on top.

But do you notice how close the match was? By just one vote. I think that originally, NRC was ahead by a few, so the OTC cut some votes off from the original winners to make it look like it was a close game, but RSA was victorious.

I think Neige's supporters were in on the secret. They knew the game was rigged in their favor, and they knew they would win. Did you really think that they were just reassuring Neige just to make him feel more confident? They were stating the fact. They were definitely in on it.

Now the question: why would the OTC go up against NRC? Why help RSA win?

There are at least two possibilities as to why. But both depends on a certain factor, the character based off of Hercules himself.

Possiblity #1: Vil Schoenheit is also based off of Hercules

Both have a similar pasts (minus the godly background) but both do have a father in a higher possition.

Vil is going up against Idia in the next chapter. The chapter might have an important element of heros and villains. And we may see where Vil tries to play the role of the hero.

So, what does this have to do with the OTC?

The Olympus tech company's reason for cheating would be in this case that they were bribed by RSA. They tampered with the voting for money.

Very dirty of them, but because of corporate greed? Why not?

Possiblity#2: there is a new character who fills the base and the role of Hercules

This one is probably the more likely one, as it would not only give us a chance to meet more RSA students, but also the head CEO of the OTC.

In this case, the CEO would be based off of Zeus, and he would have a son based off of Hercules. The Hercules character would attend RSA, and maybe have a few friends who are based off of Hercules's friends (Random thing where he's gay for Twisted!Megera, but that's just a joke.) Basically, it would follow the equivalence rule about the hero and villain counterparts. After all, Hades went up against Hercules, not Zeus. Having Idia and Twisted!Hercules competing in Magift against each other would make the most sense.

Now this would be where the OTC motive for rigging the voting system come in. Twisted!Zeus is the head of the OTC, and his son attends one of the academies with a representative from that same academy. It would make RSA look bad for losing, the same academy his son attends. Why not push the votes in RSA'a favor to ensure that the students of the academy keep their flawless reputations?

Of course, it's possible for it to be a combination of both possibilities.

And if the OTC is sponsoring the score boards for the Magift tournament, who's to say they won't do the same thing again?

But, there's something they never considered about this year's Magift tournament.

Tipping the scales

RSA students most likely have been taught to work together. This is a good thing for them. They've been taught how to function as a unit, how to help each other through hardships, and to come out victorious together. This is all fine, and I'm willing to bet that the teachers at RSA have taught this lesson to the students as a traditional one. It's always been there. And it's known for this tradition

NRC students have always been asked the question: what do you want? They persue their own goals and dreams, rarely working with others to come out on top. And when they do work together, it's usually on conditions. Crowley's probably been at the college since the start, and has not just taught the students to not rely on anyone but themselves, but also the harsh cruel reality of the world: Happy endings don't just happen on their own. You need to work for them. The students don't rely on each other, and never have.

Both academies's greatest strengths is the others greatest weakness. RSA's weakness is it's students falling apart and being separated. NRC's weakness is the students working together with no motivation, because they aren't used to working with people they hate, it's constant fighting among themselves.

But that system is about to be broken by one person: MC

MC has been teaching the students to work together and establish friendships with each other. Through the NRC students misadventures, MC has been teaching them to overcome hatred and ban together. So now, not only are the NRC students capable of working as strong individuals, but they can now function as a unit as well.

This eliminates the system of strength and weakness because now, RSA has the weakness of not being able to function as individuals. Not all students suffer from this, but most would. But the ability to work with others as well as by yourself would give NRC the advantage in a fair game. But if we count the fact that RSA has the cheats and support, this game was never ment to be fair.

So to sum it all up:

The OTC is a company full of jerks

Ortho is based off of the Titans and needs to be protected at all costs

Ignihyde must protect their entire dorm from the dark crime of plagiarism

The OTC may be helping RSA cheat due to bribery and/or family connections

We can't trust anything sponsored by the OTC

And MC is going to help our bois destroy the competition

Or, again I could be horribly wrong.

Thanks for reading!!! And....

Before i official end the post, I'd like to say two quick things. The first is a mini Theory regarding the release date for Chapter 6. It could either be with the chapters story line time in late May, or the sixth chapter is released on the sixth day of the sixth month, or more specifically, June 6.

Secondly, thank you for 50 followers!!! Even though I don't spend all of my time on tumblr, it's a great comfort to me knowing someone does read what I write ( even though most of it seems outrageous and incredibly farfetched.) You all mean the world to me! Thanks!!!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland theory #i did a thing #twst #ignihyde #Olympus Tech Company #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland idia #rsa we're doomed #rook i swear if you know what's going on but don't tell us i give you a taste of my shoe #vil schoenheit #MC #Crowley #we're doomed #disney twisted wonderland

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