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snowbellewells · 3 years

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Self-Promo Sunday: “A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

Hey there friends and shipmates! I’ve taken a couple of weeks off on the Self-Promo Sunday posts, but I was looking back through some of my older pieces and found this fluffy one shot offering from a couple years ago. (It was part of the amazing @cspupstravaganza event in 2019.) I didn’t make it any cover art before, so I’ve added that to it as well. Taking place sometime post- season six; Hope is present and a toddler, but Henry is still there as well. That makes it canon divergent future fluff, I guess? Apologies if you’ve read this one before, but maybe you’ll get a little smile from revisiting it.

Also available on both AO3 HERE and on ff.net HERE

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Kililan chuckled good naturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she exited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?”

Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if she might be playing some sort of elaborate joke at her expense.

Then, plunking her head down to rest on her arms crossed on the table, she sighed as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected. On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done. Even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son grew thoughtful for a moment, mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all? Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened - an expression Killian quickly mirrored.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now-steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie (in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart) and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again; annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question.

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place.

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few who may enjoy (or enjoy again!): @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @thisonesatellite @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @thislassishooked @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @ohmakemeahercules @scientificapricot @gingerchangeling @teamhook @revanmeetra87@resident-of-storybrooke @elizabeethan @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89

#self promo sunday #cs oneshot #ouat canon divergence #future fluff ff #a litter more than they bargained for

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jaegerboob · 3 years

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WIP ROUNDUP!!

i was tagged by @trashpocket (hey bae ;)) and since im lonely here on tumblr and have no one but the void to yell at, i won’t be tagging anyone :((

okay let’s start off with my published WIPS lol i have quite a collection and boy do i regret posting most of these, but anyway that’s here’s my hot girl shit

"i’ll figure it out with a little more time” - (if u knew me at my thai BL phase no u didn’t :)) anyways this was a supposed to be a pretty short fic that features an oblivious Sarawat not knowing how to navigate his feelings towards Tine and Tine being an equally giant dumbass. their school is hosting a school dance and Sarawat’s emotionally constipated ass doesn’t know how to SPEAK and just ASK Tine to go w/ him. i swear i might be the author of this story but i also get mad at these fuckers

“we’re boyfriends?” - ah yes another Thai BL fic, i will admit. i have NO idea where to take this story lmao. i still wanna finish it tho cuz i hate disappointing ppl. the fic starts with Ae and Pond making a dumb bet so Pond will stop jerking off in their shared room and promises that he won’t do that as long Ae dates someone random and based off of Pond’s choosing. sweet bby Pete wanders into their campus accidentally and gets picked. Ae does the deed and tells Pete they’re dating. Ae thinks that Pete and Pond are scheming to make his life a living hell but lo and behold Pete has actually fallen in love with him (heheheh)

“i wanna ruin our friendship” - hello lgbtq+ community :). we all know where this fuckin title is from don’t be sneaky. so here’s my KilluGon college fic. I initially wrote this like two years ago and uploaded it on wattpad lmaooo then i edited it and posted on ao3 and once again i have no idea where to take this (ive forgotten what my original idea for this was lol) so basically Killua and Gon are really close friends and Gon is sortof a player in this AU idk why khdkadha but anywayz all of Gon’s exes have left him bc they’re jealous of Killua but Gon would never pick his current S/O over him so HAAA. it all goes to shit tho when Retz decides to trick Gon to taking her back for the school dance and idk what path to go for T_T

AIGHT now for my UNPUBLISHED WIPS buckle up yall this is a LOT. all the titles are WIPS so that’s why theyre iffy lol

“pussy talented”- (don’t mind the title lmao i just wanted a cat pun in there somewhere) basically, Bokuto is a firefighter and Akaashi an editor. They work near each other and Bokuto often visits Kuroo, who works with Akaashi. Ofc Akaashi falls in love at first sight but then he overhears that he has a "Kenma" waiting for him at home. Akaashi assumes that he's probably Bo's boyfriend and then leaves him alone, making Bo confused as hell. Little that he knows that Kenma is actually a grumpy calico cat.

“killugon flower shop AU” - Wing owns a flower shop and Killua helps out with Zushi along with Alluka out of boredom and one day Alluka asks Killua to help out with her client then he meets Gon and is immediately smitten until Gon says that he's looking for something that he can give to a girlfriend (it was actually Ging's request lol), lots of misunderstanding, Killua being too shy to ask the handsome stranger out and Alluka and Zushi being done with his shit

“rice isn’t the only thing getting crushed here” - Osamu falls in love with one of his most loyal costumers—Akaashi and he thinks he might just have a shot at it until one day while Akaashi is ordering a bunch of riceballs, Bokuto Koutaro of Japan's National Volleyball team enters the restaurant and sweeps Akaashi of his feet, unexpected angst and a generous helping of unrequited pining :)) dw this fic can go two ways: Bokuto is just Akaashi's best friend who he hasn't seen in months or b. Bokuto is actually Akaashi's fiance maybe i’ll write both endings heehee

“killua is sad and gets lovebombed” - while staying in Whale Island, Killua thinks he that he doesn't deserve Gon and tries to leave him while he's asleep but his plan is stopped when Gon wakes up and they both end up revealing their true feelings for each other

“excuse to write charles getting fucked by two delicious men” - Erik and Charles have been in a relationship for years now and basically fell out of love so when Erik gets promoted and has to move, Charles agrees and so they break up. Charles turns to Logan (who harbors a giant crush on Charles) for companionship and sleep together once. Logan says it was an accident but Charles wants more and they establish a FWB situation of sorts since Charles isn't ready yet. But then Charles gets into an accident and can't remember what happened the past year and a half so he still thinks he's with Erik. Meanwhile, Erik is living a luxurious yet empty life and when he gets the call from Raven about Charles' situation, he immediately goes back running.

“killua in whale island” - KilluGon are like 20-ish and Killua visits Whale Island and Ging just happens to be there as well. Killua thinks about how even though Gon and Ging are near identical, Gon just looks so much more handsome. (probs just a oneshot)

“another horny cherik fic” - Charles is a demon who was accidentally summoned when Raven, Hank and Ororo uses Erik's blood to perform a demon summoning ritual (as a joke) they didn't know it would actually work so now Charles is stuck with Erik because the human absolutely refuses to sell his soul

“IwaOi overboard AU” - Oikawa is a rich pretty boy and Iwa a college dropout who works at his uncle's repair shop with his younger brother Tobio and cousin Kyoutani ( both 5 yrs old). One day he gets called over to fix one of Oikawa's cars and after a failed and disastrous encounter with a drunk Oikawa, Iwa leaves the mansion fuming. Later in the day, it's discovered that Oikawa got in a car crash that took away his memories and since Oikawa apparently lives alone, he has no one to get him. not until Iwa comes ofc and with a malicious and vengeful intent, he tells Oikawa that they're dating and live together in his crappy apartment

“dancer Akaashi” - Akaashi is a dancer, Osamu is a bartender at the bar he works at and has also been in love with Akaashi for the past two years. He doesn't confess since he knows Akaashi doesn't like romance but then enters a bright eyed cheery Bokuto who sweeps the unreachable Midnight Moon off of his feet, bokuaka but im leaning towards bokuosaaka since akaashi deserves two boyfriends

“watch me be poetically horny for Akaashi Keiji” - Akaashi is a vampire and Osamu, a skilled artist. Akaashi posing nude and delighted at how beautifully Osamu portrays him. Osamu says otherwise.

Cherik College AU - drift by great gable.... late teens cherik... Erik being a misanthropic horny bastard and Charles a snarky piece of shit.... they get paired up for 7 minutes in heaven... turns out Charles has been ogling him for a while now.. hmmmm,,,.,. ( i wrote this when i was drunk and my og draft is too long so take this instead lolz)

“ BokuAka (NSFW) ” - Bokuto pushing off a guy who tried to hit on Akaashi while they're at a club. Akaashi gets so turned on he immediately drags Bokuto to the bathroom where he gets his facefucked in one of the bathroom stalls or Akaashi getting his face fucked in a dirty alley at the back of a bar after Bokuto gets into a fistfight.

“KuroKen (NSFW) ” -Kenma does top during sex but but he's just really lazy to put in the effort

aight that’s it oh damn i just now realize how much i have T-T bruhhhhhhh and this isn’t even all of them damnnn

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cowstiandior · 4 years

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phew this rly is gonna be the first post I’ve made in like a year but. Like the others, time to pour my heart out I guess.

I’ve dealt with a lot of trauma. I’m still going through my trauma because every so often I learn things that I had no idea about whether it be because I blocked it out or just never thought about it in an abusive light. I guess, first thing’s first, to explain why a lot of this stuff impacted me in a huge way (not to say that it wouldn’t have otherwise, but.).

My biological father was emotionally and physically abusive. To me, to my sibling, to my mother and all his exe’s. He had mental illnesses that were left untreated like BPD, narcissism, and compulsive lying. When I was five, he tried to get me to believe that my mom was cheating on him with a friend of hers and that this guy was gonna steal her away. And I believed him and cried and screamed until my mom promised me that was the case. I only found out, in my late teens, that he was the one that had cheated. Constantly. Eventually they divorced and I moved with my mom to texas after the school year was finished because that gave her time to prepare a place to live for me. Unfortunately during that period where I still lived with my dad... he did a lot of things. And even though (apparently) my grandparents on my mother’s side tried to have me over as much as they could, there was still long amounts of times that I spent with my father.

He exposed me to a lot of shit I shouldn’t have been as a child. Movies with graphic violence and horror (I once had a panic attack when I lost a tooth because I thought that awful lady from darkness falls was gonna come and kill me), nudity and sex. Hell, anime that borderlined into straight up hentai. Only two years ago did I learn from my mother that she always thought my dad was sexually abusing me, but she never had the proof. And maybe she was right. Maybe he did, and I blocked some of it out. He showed me all that stuff, and I remember how he would cling to me in the bed he forced me to share with him and told me I was the only one that loved him and understood. He would buy and show me things I shouldn’t have been seeing and then told me not to tell my mother.

He once brought me over to one of his girlfriends and while I “slept” on the couch, he had sex with his gf right there in the living room just a foot away from where I was. He had only wait... what, five minutes? For me to fall asleep and didn’t even check if I had. I was facing the back of the couch so I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear all of it. I was too afraid to move or even breathe.

That on its own is a lot, but I’m sharing this to give some background into my feelings about this roleplay groups I was a part of over the years.

My first experience with rping was the alvin and the chipmunks oc community on yt. Which was a very niche thing on its own, but there were a LOT of people. It basically boiled down to us coloring over screencaps and fanart to make our ocs, make songs high-pitched and then vid our ocs using the pictures to the songs in wmm and pretending that was our ocs singing them. Some of us communicated via AIM to actually rp our ocs. At the time I was 11/12. I ended up rping with people much older than me, one of whom, the one I rped with the longest and had the greater attachment to, was 16. We rped smut with our ocs. I thought this was normal. They did it with others so why not me as well? They were popular and I was just starting out in the community, so if I did this, then I’d get more attention. And it worked. I got attention from people much older than me and I felt like I was a huge part of this community. All because one of my ocs fucked a more important person’s oc and they got together.

But eventually I fell out of it. I randomly found nondisney crossover videos on yt and began to watch them religiously. Like, really bad ones also made in wmm, but I thought they were so cool. This was way back before editors ever even dreamed of using AE to make seamless masks for their videos. I lefts the aatc group behind to try and make my own. I didn’t have much success until one of my videos blew up and I got a lot of subscribers. I still wasn’t part of what felt like a closely knit community, but I wanted to be. I made silly reaction videos of vidders getting jokingly ‘married’, I commented and liked others videos to try and get noticed by them. Because I was 13 and had no irl friends.

Then ‘video rps’ began to be a thing. I instantly was enamored, and having experience in rping before, desperately joined. It was fun, at first! I started to connect with more people, they wanted to plot these stupid stuff ideas with me. Then the group decided to move to good ol’, fresh baby-faced tumblr. And I enjoyed that because, at the time, I thought I was a better writer than I was a vidder (news flash I wasn’t good at either of these things sdfkjdns). Somehow, after this move, I became really close with the mods. Both of whom were in the 20s while I was 14 (and just starting high school). One of them called me her ‘wifey’ and I went along with it and did the same. Because I liked the attention. I thought I was important even though, really, none of my characters except two were ever part of any large plots or got attention. They also talked about sexual things with me because my main oc was dating one of the mods’ oc. I remember them solely getting together because of ‘aphrodisiac dust’ too.

And I’ll admit, I also kinda forced it on my side. The mod had her oc basically in a ‘love triangle’ between my and my friend meg’s ocs. Which is... honestly a Lot now that I think about it. She kept stringing us along, both me and meg being the same age too. So when I saw the oppurtunity of “hey my oc was forced to be really horny and if I get Jen’s oc to fuck mine, that would mean they’ll be together’! So that’s what I did. And it worked. And it was only way later once I really processed what I’d done that I felt like shit for what I did to meg. This adult had basically tried to get us to fight each other of this dumb fucking ship. Haha jokes on u jen, now they’re both lesbians and are dating.

Though before this, when my oc was dating another member’s, that ended... really badly when said member had her boyfriend raped by their other ocs. One the dash. With no warning. Not even telling me about that possibility. It made me feel sick. So I dropped them.

Anyways, yeah. In this rp group I was, once again, exposed to smut and sexual things by those that weren’t just older than me, but also adults. They tried to get me to turn on other people in the group. They were also homophobic which, at the time, had a huge impact on me since I was, even then, trying to figure out what and who I was.

Both mods were controlling, rude, and eventually, all of us decided to split off from them and move our ocs to a new but similar setting. This shift was lead by gansey, who became the new mod. I was also partially close to them, and given that at the time I thought they were a good writer and they were popular, I relished in that attention. I thought of them as an older sibling. But in the end they weren’t all that different from Jen and Usa, the previous mods.

Even back in TOW, Gansey had this strange fascination with cheating. Given that Jen’s oc and mine were dating, and gansey had this (understandable, at the time) hatred for her and Usa, they tried to get their main oc to be... really close with mine. Always close enough to cheating or being seen as romantic but never enough that they could apply plausible deniability to the situation. They even made this weird ‘au’ video of them together without talking to me about it. ...A lot of things were done without talking to me about it.

Their obsession with cheating even extended into TAR, where they kept hinting at one of their ocs being interest with another of mine despite Sonia being in a relationship with Shelly’s Archie. I thought, perhaps, that maybe they wanted it to become an open relationship or poly. And if they had talked about it with Shelly and I and we all agreed with it, that would have been fine. But such a thing was never brought up. When said character suddenly developed an evil demon personality, them trying to force their affection on Sonia became even more obvious. Only now the character had a proper ‘excuse’, being evil and whatnot.

Gansey really did have this weird thing for cheating, ruining other people’s ships, and also dubcon/noncon. And again, Gansey was an adult while I was in high school. These things Just Kept Happening. And even though I thought we were close at the time, I never really was involved in any of their big plots (or really anyone’s) unless it involved some of these concepts.

Eventually I started to talk a lot with Meg because we were the same age and had similar interests. This led to me talking with Shelly more and then Bonnie, Kyle, and Morgan. And I’m so grateful for that. People I had been so afraid of contacting on my own to talk to or be friends because of my insecurity due to everything else became huge parts of my life. For once I felt genuinely included and not just someone to be used by others. We came up with fun plots, character connections, etc. At this point I had both them and friends in high school. I had a place I felt I belonged. I still do. I love them so much. They’re basically family to me.

Anyways, as I got older, it became apparent there was this rift in the rp group. People being purposely excluded because they weren’t seen as ‘good’ rpers, or just because someone who wasn’t ever really active in the rp group didn’t like the other. AKA Roman hating kyle which resulted in him being excluded despite his attempts time and time again to include others lol. Obviously over the years, there wasn’t much left for me in that group outside of my friends. It was barely active anymore and outside of it interactions had become toxic. So it was understandable when Kyle and Meg decided to leave. Funny how once that happened, they only then decided to have an ‘open forum’, with everyone who was normally quiet coming out of the woodworks to bash my friends when they were no longer there.

Some of us called them out after that and left. Though not before we found out that they’d (gansey and their inner circle) been developing another rp setting called FAR (presumably the setting they attempted when they told everyone they were gonna have a 100 time-skip to shake things up, which ended up not happening bc a lot of the group was like wtf) and also added someone to the discord server that most of us didn’t know. This person had been there for months and Gansey never told us despite them being their friend. This was very upsetting because at that point all of in this group had been together for 8 years. We shared personal stuff in that discord server. Things that I’m sure we wouldn’t want strangers seeing. So yeah, a lot of us were upset!

Then Gansey and their friends dogpiled kyle for understandably being mad about being excluded and alienated. Then they dared to have the gall to message me saying they were terrible and sorry and that they’d always be there to listen if I wanted to talk.

So I talked. And what happened after that? Nada. Nothing. They never replied. They weren’t willing to face the hypocrisy of what they’d done.

In the end they had just been another manipulative adult that had only used me when they needed to. That tried to have our characters be sexual when I was just a teen.

All of you were adults. You should have known better. I admired you guys only to have that admiration used to control me. Fuck all of you. Fuck you for the way you treated my friends. Fuck you for having contributed to my trauma on top of everything else I’d experienced. Fuck you, gansey, for your manipulative ‘apology’. Fuck you for your dumb fucking poetry you thought we’d never see, comparing us to corpses and you to sisyphus.

Boo Fucking Hoo.

You were never really sorry at all. None of you were. You’re were just ashamed you got caught on all your bullshit.

I was boo boo the fool for thinking I actually meant anything to you guys.

#csa tw #rape tw #noncon tw #dubcon tw #manipulation tw #this ended up being all over the place I'm sorry #Don't even know if this is even coherent #they're all real #i'm not even gonna fuckin use the other walrus tag fuck you

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toshootforthestars · 4 years

Link

Yes!

Via Tom Ley, posted 10 Sept 2020:

This site exists because of the events of Oct. 29, 2019, when we all still worked at Deadspin.

That was the day that Barry Petchesky, who had been a writer and editor at the site for over 10 years, and was at that point the site’s acting editor-in-chief, was fired. He was marched back to his desk by G/O Media CFO Tom Callahan, who made Petchesky hand over his keycard and collect his things while I and a handful of my colleagues demanded to know why he had just been fired. We’d all sprung up from our chairs and started barking half-formed questions, to which Callahan responded by pointing at one of our computers and sneering, "Just look at the home page.”

At that moment, Deadspin’s home page featured stories about wedding dresses, three good dogs I recently met, a pumpkin thief—and no stories about sports. This was purposeful, the staff’s response to a memo sent by the company’s executive editor a day earlier that forbade us from covering topics not related directly to sports. Jim Spanfeller, who had been installed by the private equity firm Great Hill Partners as CEO of our company all of seven months before, responded to this act of insubordination by calling Petchesky into his office, firing him, and then telling him to “get the fuck out.”

I spent the rest of that day and most of the next huddled in an empty corner office with my colleagues 27 floors above the 45th and Broadway intersection of Times Square. The conversations we had in that room eventually led to all of us making the decision to quit in solidarity with Petchesky.

At this point the staff was used to navigating various workplace crises. We’d had similar meetings before, following resignations, sales of the company, layoffs, collective-bargaining sessions, and even a bankruptcy. We used to joke about how no new Deadspin employee ever made it through their first few months at the site without some kind of company-wide crisis.

This meeting felt different, though. Through all the other troubles we had been able to determine that no matter what was crumbling around us, Deadspin was still ours, and the ability to go to work every day and make the website we loved was worth holding onto for as long as possible. But suddenly we were confronted with a vision of Deadspin’s future—one without Petchesky and without the editorial freedom our site depended on—that we simply couldn’t accept.

One colleague, vaguely recalling all the other existential threats we’d survived through the years, summed up our situation neatly, saying through his tears, “They got us this time.”

Within 48 hours the entire remaining staff of Deadspin, 20 people, had resigned. Now, 10 months later, we are ready to start something new.

That’s the story of how we arrived at this point, but if you want to truly understand why we are doing this, you need to widen the scope a little bit. The full story is about more than just an irascible staff of writers reacting flippantly to a memo they didn’t like. It’s a story about what will and won’t be tolerated, both by those with the power to shape the present and future of the media industry, and by those who bear the consequences of how that power is wielded.

The version of Deadspin we walked away from was an immensely popular one. Every day, millions of people visited our site—by the end, a good month saw us bringing in around 20 million unique visitors—to see what we had to show them. You could log on in the morning to read analysis of a hockey game, come back a few hours later to a perfectly crafted headline about Lions fans copulating in a parking lot, and then return in the evening to find out that Manti Te’o’s dead girlfriend was a hoax, or why Greg Hardy was arrested, or what kind of person NBA All-Star Kevin Johnson really is.

Every day offered Deadspin an opportunity—to joke, to argue, to critique, and to uncover. The tenacity with which we seized that opportunity is what electrified the site.

Deadspin didn’t acquire all those readers by accident, and the skills its writers and editors needed to run the site every day didn’t spring from nothing. The site grew and became a better version of itself every day because of how seriously those who were entrusted with it guarded and improved upon the folkways and traditions that had been handed down by previous iterations.

Will Leitch launched the site in 2005, and from the very start gifted Deadspin with a clarity of purpose that persisted right up until our departure. The site’s motto from its 2005 launch until our last day: “Sports news without access, favor, or discretion.” In one of his first posts Leitch explained, “There’s a whole side of sports that, because of either corporate obligations or just plain laziness, never makes it into the public consciousness. We specialize in that side.”

After Leitch came A.J. Daulerio, who understood that the more Deadspin burrowed itself into the negative space created by traditional sports media institutions, the more vital the site became. Deadspin looked at ESPN and newspapers and other legacy publications the way raiding Vikings must have looked at the shores of Britain, dedicating an entire section to exposing workplace harassment at ESPN, revealing sports media stars like Jay Mariotti and Sean Salisbury as frauds and hacks, and routinely securing stories in ways that would make a journalism professor faint.

Those infamous pictures of Brett Favre? Exchanged for a paper bag stuffed with cash.

Tommy Craggs succeeded Daulerio, and during his tenure Deadspin’s already venomous bite was imbued with a political sensibility. The scope and ambition of the site also began to expand during Craggs’s tenure, and eventually the site that had started with a staff of one accumulated a stable of editors and writers, reporters with dedicated beats, as well as the budget and appetite needed to publish the sort of reported scoops and features that rivaled anything you’d expect to find in a prestigious newspaper or magazine. The site also established culture and lifestyle sections, which brought Deadspin’s voice and point of view to bear on all manner of topics, like Gamergate and Wile E. Coyote.

A funny thing started happening around this time: The site that had stood itself up by throwing bombs at various institutions was becoming something of an institution itself. This transformation continued under the stewardship of subsequent editors Tim Marchman and Megan Greenwell, both of whom worked to diversify the staff, further expand Deadspin’s coverage areas, and continue landing the sort of big, industry-leading stories that made the site an indispensable daily read.

After a while it was no longer accurate to describe Deadspin as just a sports site (though the vast majority of its coverage remained sports-related) or as a place to find rude headlines about sports columnists. What Deadspin became, what it was on the day its entire staff resigned, was a full-bodied publication. It married muckraking with a 27-word blog post headlined Tony Dungy Doesn’t Think Michael Vick Is Being Haunted By Dog Ghosts.

To an uncommon extent, readers wanted to know what Deadspin had to say. When other people in the industry would hear about how much of our traffic came directly through the homepage (as opposed to social media or search), they would stare in disbelief. Whenever someone left the site to go work at another outlet, they would invariably send a grim dispatch about how much they missed Deadspin’s built-in audience.

What was apparent to those of us who had spent years reading and creating Deadspin was that the site wasn’t defined by what it covered, but by its sensibility.

People liked reading a site that refused to condescend or patronize, that was comfortable telling ugly truths about sports and the world at large, that was rude, that was mean (usually in ways that were more illuminating than gratuitous), and that was whimsical in ways that were never insufferable. Readers didn’t come to Deadspin every day just to get their sports news or find out who won last night. They came because they liked reading Deadspin.

Where did it all go wrong, then?

There are perhaps too many points on the timeline to discuss. Maybe it was when infamous venture capitalist and Donald Trump confidant Peter Thiel, angered over sister site Gawker’s antagonistic coverage of him, secretly funded a lawsuit against Gawker Media from ex-wrestler Hulk Hogan and structured it to cause maximum damage to the company. (A loss at trial in Florida state court in March 2016 resulted in a $140 million judgment and Gawker Media’s bankruptcy.) Maybe it was when debt-laden broadcaster Univision bought the company at auction that August and then spent the next few years failing to figure out exactly what it wanted to do with us. (To wit, Univision seemed to be under the impression that Gawker Media’s sites would somehow be able to create television shows that would prop up their failing cable channel, Fusion.)

Even if the dominoes started falling years ago, I never felt the end was in sight until Great Hill purchased the company in April of 2019. They got to work quickly, changing our name to G/O Media, and installing Spanfeller, a veteran of Forbes.com and content mills like The Daily Meal, as CEO. During his introductory meeting with the whole staff, he revealed that though he’d spent his career on the business side of digital media, his true ambition was to publish the next great American novel.

Spanfeller moved through the office like a blunt object, always more interested in how to further monetize the G/O Media sites than in the sites themselves. In an early meeting Spanfeller had with the editorial staff, he told us that his plan was to more than double G/O Media’s annual revenue within a year.

He went about executing his plan by firing the company’s top two editorial leaders, wiping out the investigations desk, and installing a coterie of former colleagues in high-level positions across the company. As Spanfeller molded the company to fit his vision, we at Deadspin found ourselves in a heated confrontation with him.

[…]

Soon it became clear that his plan for juicing G/O Media’s revenue involved turning Deadspin into the kind of site it was never supposed to be. He liked to talk about the site’s position in the “sports category,” kvetching about how poorly our revenue and traffic numbers stacked up against those of ESPN.com and SB Nation.

It didn’t seem to matter to him that sports fans would visit ESPN.com and Deadspin for entirely different reasons, or that every site ahead of us in the “sports category” had exponentially larger staffs, or that some of those same sites relied on hundreds of underpaid and unpaid bloggers to hit their traffic numbers, or that Deadspin was one of the few sites that earned its traffic without resorting to SEO plays designed to capture clicks from people searching things like “Mayweather vs. McGregor livestream.”

None of that seemed to matter to Spanfeller, because he didn’t see Deadspin the way its staff and its readers saw it. To him it was just a valuable brand name within the sports category, and with that brand name came unlimited potential for growth and profit.

[…]

Lately I’ve been thinking of Deadspin as a strange machine. For more than a decade, the people charged with the maintenance of that machine were allowed to tinker with it according to their whims and idiosyncratic tastes. The result of all that tinkering was a machine which, for all its apparent wonkiness, worked brilliantly.

The problem with a machine like that is that it’s difficult for anyone who didn’t build it, or doesn’t respect those who did, to understand exactly how or why it works. When Deadspin’s staffers and readers looked at the machine, they saw a wonderful and whirring contraption, but all Spanfeller and Great Hill saw was an odd collection of valves and pistons. They saw parts, but not the whole.

Spanfeller’s disdain for his own newsroom, the “stick to sports” memo, Petchesky being fired, and the cascade of oppressive ads—they were all signaling the same thing: Spanfeller and Great Hill weren’t really interested in preserving what we had spent the last decade building. Maybe a few components would remain to keep up appearances, but Deadspin’s demolition was coming, and we couldn’t stop it. What we could do was refuse to participate in its destruction.

What happened at Deadspin, what’s still happening at G/O Media, isn’t unique. It’s just a particular version of the same slow-motion, industry-wide disaster that’s been unfolding for years.

[emphasis mine]

Everything’s fucked now.

Newspapers have been destroyed by raiding private equity firms, alt-weeklies and blogs are financially unsustainable relics, and Google and Facebook have spent the last decade or so hollowing out the digital ad market. What survives among all this wreckage are websites and publications that are mostly bad. There’s plenty to read, the trouble is that so much of it is undergirded by a growing disregard (and in some cases even disdain) for the people doing the actual reading.

What readers are being served when a sports blog leverages its technological innovations in order to create a legion of untrained and unpaid writers? Who benefits when a media company cripples its own user experience and launches a campaign to drive away some of its best writers and editors? Whose interests are being served when a magazine masthead is gutted and replaced by a loose collection of amateurish contractors? Who ultimately wins when publications start acting less like purpose-driven institutions and more like profit drivers, primarily tasked with achieving exponential scale at any cost? What material good is produced when private equity goons go on cashing their checks while simultaneously slashing payroll throughout their newsrooms?

Things have gotten so bad that even publications that get away with defining themselves as anti-establishment are in fact servile to authority in all forms, and exist for the sole purpose of turning their readers into a captive source of profit extraction.

The truth is that nobody who matters—the readers—ever asked for any of this shit. Every bad decision that has diminished media—every pivot to video, every injection of venture capital funds, every round of layoffs, every outright destruction of a publication—was only deemed necessary by the constraints of capitalism and dull minds.

This is an industry being run by people who, having been betrayed by the promise of exponential scale and IPOs, now see cheapening and eventually destroying their own products as the only way to escape with whatever money there is left to grab.

The ability of Defector to escape these constraints will depend not only on the quality of our work, but on our ability to avoid feebly chasing dollars through a collapsing digital ad economy. We want the freedom to provide you with a site, custom-built by our partners at Alley Interactive, that isn’t clogged with pop-up ads, banner ads, video ads, and chum boxes full of spammy headlines explaining how That One Girl From Full House Looks Like A Damn Snack Now.

Me:

Nothing lasts forever, not even tumblr, and probably not even Defector. I gave ‘em a lousy $8 this month. Hopefully I can continue to do so.

Defector’s prospects are grim, not at least because of ALL THE OTHER sporps blergs out there plus the Second Great Depression now underway. How will it end? Sued into oblivion like gawker was? Unable to find enough subscribers or advertisers to fund operations? No search traffic from google? Buried by the algorithm on facebook? The worrying starts IF defector is viable (ie: people have money to give) and churns out not just great stories and thinkpieces but also good #content to goose the Google and Facebook algorithms. Who knows where things will be in a year.

Here’s the thing IMO: The business elite, the billionaire class, social conservatives from every income bracket, GOP acolytes, and our reviled gatekeepers at facebook & google, all are in unison on the notion that what’s posted online must be controlled.

What’s posted online should never impinge upon their collective dominance. Authority, especially THEIR authority, must never be questioned. Even one’s inclination to question authority must be countered by intimidation and fear. We, you and I, can have some left-ish “capitulzm sux” schtick, as a treat, but any and all critical writings on the powers that be and the way things work, anything that raises deeply pertinent and uncomfortable questions on the people who have accumulated outsize power and control over the course of our lives, that must be clamped down upon post-haste.

Peter Thiel and crew successfully went after gawker’s survival, and its select shitty posts from shitty people were a conveniently compelling argument that the website needed to go (not just the shitty people). Later revelations made the case that much more was at play, somewhat vindicating the suspicions of Gawker’s good writers.

As Gawker has noted over the past decade:

[Thiel’s] vaunted hedge fund Clarium Capital was an abject failure, losing more than 90% of its $7 billion in assets, a decline that Valleywag assiduously chronicled.

He is an arch libertarian who believes that central mechanisms of contemporary society—including representative democracy, universal suffrage, and formalized education—are either outdated or incompatible with human freedom.

He is a loud proponent of “seasteading,” the movement to establish sovereign communities on permanent ocean vessels for the purpose of developing legal systems unencumbered by taxes or any other kind of traditional government policies.

He believes death itself can and should be cheated, and even intends to be cryogenically frozen after he passes away, in hopes that science will one day be capable of reviving him. He literally wants to live forever.

He has backed efforts to question the legitimacy of climate change science as well as political groups opposed to immigration—even though the industry that minted him as a billionaire is heavily dependent on immigrant labor.

Gizmodo’s recent coverage of Facebook, in which Thiel was an early investor and on which he has a board seat, launched a congressional investigation into the company’s news curation practices, and inspired a national conversation about the vast amount of power the company wields—with no transparency and minimal accountability—over who reads what.

These stories, which are only a small sample of those Gawker has published about Peter Thiel, largely concern his professional life: Business ventures, political positions, and public statements. But as he noted to the Times, it was concern for his “friends” that Gawker had covered that motivated his secret legal assault: “One of my friends convinced me that if I didn’t do something, nobody would.”

Hm.

The news business is indeed in dire straits right now. As noted above in the defector blerg post, it’s definitely true that:

“Every bad decision that has diminished media—every pivot to video, every injection of venture capital funds, every round of layoffs, every outright destruction of a publication—was only deemed necessary by the constraints of capitalism and dull minds. This is an industry being run by people who, having been betrayed by the promise of exponential scale and IPOs, now see cheapening and eventually destroying their own products as the only way to escape with whatever money there is left to grab.”

I contend that THIS IS THE PLAN. No news, after all, is good news. Money of course is made, “profit extraction” and/or “value extraction” happens, but these companies are one part cynical profiteers but also one part ideologues: an informed electorate is BAD. Fuck this, the public doesn’t need to know jack shit about anything.

Via The New Republic, posted Oct 2019:

This is not to further pan for lamentations over the demise of a website. Splinter and its parent company was already something of a distressed asset—its status as such, in fact, likely played no small role in attracting the attention of Great Hill in the first place. But the wider world of mass media is filled with other such distressed assets, from the websites spawned in the heyday of venture capital media mavens, to long-standing local and regional newspapers, straining to balance their journalistic mission with an ever decreasing supply of capital.

It feels increasingly like the terms of journalism—which kinds of outlets get to do it, who gets paid enough to live doing it, which communities get coverage—are set by the rich.

The best case scenario is that journalists become part of a billionaire’s patronage network.

When Splinter shuttered, former Gawker writer Brendan O’Connor wrote that “the workplace under capitalism is a dictatorship, and the dictatorship of private equity is an especially arbitrary one.” It’s a shame that journalism—something with such obvious broad societal value, and that should be wholly antagonistic to the rich and powerful—should be mostly done for private profit, with all the compromises that come with that. But the sad fact of journalism’s dependence on profit-making becomes far more grotesque and dangerous when the profiteers in question are financial sector wheeler-dealers.

This particular flavor of profiteers seek a higher yield, faster, with no regard for the long-term sustainability of the business.

Alden Global Capital, which owns Digital First Media (DFM) and its publications like The Denver Post, drained hundreds of millions of dollars from DFM for their own gain. It can be confounding to contemplate: How can a hedge fund profit from destroying the value of what it just bought? Remarkably, they can.

As The American Prospect explainedin detail last year, private equity can make big bucks off destroying local papers if it “strips staffing and siphons off cash flow.” Papers continue to make money off local advertisers who still value them, even as the quality of the journalism collapses; cutting costs by laying off staff or centralizing production can speed it up. Essentially, the long-term consequences to profits don’t catch up fast enough to prevent the hedge fund owners from stripping the assets, who then flip the carcass.

That’s how you end up with instances in which Alden executives “rewarded themselves with tens of millions of dollars’ worth of prime real estate in Florida and the Hamptons for their personal enjoyment.”

The “War on Journalism” isn’t a myth, it’s a bone fide pursuit. There has never been a “liberal media” and the corporations that own news organizations very much prefer it stay that way. Facebook and google siphoning away ad dollars helps immensely to this end.

Take Advance Publications and the Newhouse family!

Via the CJR, posted Dec 2013:

Often represented to employees as an extraordinary worker benefit, The Pledge, in fact, had its roots in the antipathy of the late Advance founder S.I. “Sam” Newhouse, Sr. toward organized labor.

“I refuse to stand by passively and allow any union to ‘bust’ me,” he wrote in A Memo to My Children, a thin, self-published memoir that is apparently the only personally penned record of his life and career.

After acrimonious and sometimes violent contract negotiations and strikes at Advance-owned newspapers in New York, Oregon, Missouri, and Ohio in the 1930s through the mid-1960s, Sam Newhouse, apparently in consultation with his son, Donald, is believed to have crafted the Pledge. (The Newhouses have declined to talk to reporters and authors about the Pledge, including me when I was researching my recently released book about the “digital first” changes at the Times-Picayune and other Advance newspapers.)

Over the years, the Pledge became “so well-known throughout the newspaper industry that it was almost considered legendary,” according to a 2009 lawsuit by former Mobile, AL, Press-Register Publisher Howard Bronson, who sued after he was dismissed from his $745,000-a-year post at the Advance paper while The Pledge was still in force. (The suit was settled for an undisclosed amount in April 2011.)

When originally instituted in the mid-1960s, The Pledge explicitly promised employees that they would not lose their jobs “because of technological changes or economic conditions so long as the newspaper continues to publish and [employees] are willing to retrain for another job, if necessary.”

It was modified in 2008 to cover only permanent, non-union employees of Advance’s daily newspapers “published in newsprint form.” The addition of this fine print set the stage for the arrival of the digital initiative, which began in 2009 at the Newhouse-owned Ann Arbor News in Michigan. Layoffs were now technically permissible under the still-in-force Pledge because that newspaper went from daily to twice-weekly. And in July 2009, 214 jobs were eliminated at the Ann Arbor News.

Advance rescinded The Pledge altogether in February 2010, when the newspaper industry was deep into its long and ugly nosedive.

“We felt that it was the right thing to communicate to people that we could no longer afford not having the flexibility to do something if the revenue challenges continue,” Steven Newhouse told The New York Times in August 2009. “I think the policy was meant for a time when the newspaper business had ups and downs, but was relatively stable. It was not meant for a time when our newspapers, like others, are struggling to survive.”

…

Deadspin, amongst its furious shitposting, and kinda like gawker (when it wasn’t fucking shitty), spoke truth to power.

There is a concerted effort to end that, online and elsewhere.

There’s a concerted effort to control what’s posted online and what information can be freely accessed.

(my bad and shitty theory: The overarching, unifying reasons are power, control & domination. Conservatives want far-left views that threaten them to be vanquished, businesses want preferential treatment to do whatever the fuck they want, the billionaire class want their wealth protected from the guillotines of the working class, the GOP wants political power in perpetuity, Facebook & Google are run by rapacious ghouls and ideologues. ALL OF THEM want control over what becomes public information and #content just for their individual safety from the rebellious unwashed masses, as recent advances in AI will mean a lot less people employed anywhere, and that + climate change = guillotines for the rich.)

TL;DR: Corporate media sucks. Check out Defector.

#long post #scroll alert #news #defector #sporps #journalismism #us press corps #news media #the media #corporate media #gawker is dead #long live gawker #deadspin #g/o media #gawker media #the news business #the way things work

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monsterywriting · 5 years

Text

Zombie Boyfriend (Adam) - pt 1

Read the Rewrite here

So, I’ve finally posted my first monster boyfriend story on here! Part 2 coming soon, but I hope y’all enjoy this. Also, this is really a kind of “Frankenstein’s monster” story, but that was too long for the title so... officially Adam’s a zombie!

word count: 2,343

Living alone in the middle of nowhere had its perks, especially considering you enjoyed the solitude of nature of the mountainside without a neighbor around for miles that was actually there for the winter.

It had already been nearly three months since you first came out to fix up your grandmother’s old cabin and you had yet to grow tired of the place. She had moved into the nearby town at the bottom of the mountain where your family lived a year ago now.

She was getting older and her eyesight had been going over the years, so your parents didn’t want her living alone in the winter up where there was no way to check in on her. So, you’d been tasked with getting the place ready to be put on the market for the next summer. Not that you minded the decision too much, though.

You were able to sleep in most days, and all the necessary work that needed to be done outside had been completed over the summer, meaning your job at the cabin consisted mostly of cleaning out the junk that had accumulated over the years and keeping the place dust free until you were able to drive into town and get supplies to actually repaint and decorate in the spring.

A week ago you finally started clearing out the three bedrooms upstairs that had been virtually untouched since you were a child, taking all the old furniture and trash that needed to be thrown out into the front yard.

Since then, every time you went outside, you’ve felt something staring at you while you worked.

At first, you assumed it was some of the wildlife that wasn’t currently hibernating, since they were probably used to getting food left behind from the summer crowd. Now, however, you weren’t sure what to feel about the constant staring and tried not to linger outside for too long.

The cabin sat on a small grassy hill overlooking the frozen lake, other cabins, all empty at this time of year, dotting the shore.

Behind the cabin was a forest, the underbrush and snow so closely packed you could barely see through it. The only break in the tree line was the dirt road, currently blocked with snow, leaving the lake back down the mountain. It was from the trees you felt the stare come from.

Shuddering as you turned away from the forest, you set back to work hauling a rather large wardrobe that had been in the room that used to be yours in the summers. It had once been a beautiful piece, one you’d been hoping to save, but a bad leak in the roof had badly damaged it beyond repair.

The roof and leak had already been fixed, but the ceilings would have to be redone because of the water damage before anything else was done to the rooms.

The wardrobe moved fairly easily at first as you pushed it downhill, and it was a miracle you even got it down the stairs in one piece.

Now, however, as you tried to keep it from falling all the way down and crashing into the lake, you were regretting not taking a sledgehammer to it inside and just bringing it out in pieces.

Now that the ground was a bit more uneven, the wardrobe kept getting stuck, forcing you to push harder against it. About halfway down, you gave it a particularly hard push, but instead of moving, the entire wardrobe tipped over and made you lose your balance as well.

Fortunately, the ground wasn’t as steep and the wardrobe stayed in place once it crashed into the dirt. Unfortunately, however, you started rolling almost as soon as you hit the ground.

Groaning as you picked yourself up off the gravel, you were horrified to find your both your hands and a scrape on your forehead were bleeding. And to make matters worse, your only pair of glasses had cracks all on the lenses, meaning you were blind and stuck as such for another month until you could go home and get another pair.

“Oh god, are you okay?!” Someone called out to you as they ran down the hill towards you, and you turned like a deer in headlights.

Even with your terrible vision you could tell whoever it was was huge, and once he reached out and picked you up onto your feet, you really saw how much he towered over you. You were incredibly nearsighted, and trying to look up at his face was like trying to look up at the top of a mountain without your glasses. All you could tell was that he was wearing dark sunglasses.

“Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but it shouldn’t need stitches. From what I can tell it’s just a scrape,” the stranger murmured almost to himself as he held your head in place and pushed your hair out of the way.

“Sorry, but who exactly are you?” You ignored him, squinting and trying to get on your tiptoes to get a better look, “I thought no one would be staying at the lake this winter.”

The stranger suddenly seemed to get nervous, craning his head back so you couldn’t make out the details of his face, though you assumed his reaction was just a matter of personal space as he relaxed as soon as you got back down.

“I actually bought the house on the other side of the lake two years ago,” he finally answered after seeming taken aback by your question, “Did something happen to the woman living here? She was always very kind to me whenever I would jog over here.”

“Ah, no,” you said quickly, easily falling into conversation with the strange man, “She’s my grandmother, she just moved closer to town. She’s still healthy as a horse. Y’know, besides her eyes.”

“Oh, okay,” he paused before continuing tentatively, “Are you… blind, too?”

“Oh, no,” you burst out, almost laughing, “my eyesight is just horrible. I have pretty severe astigmatism, but I can see fine with my glasses… they just broke in the fall, though, so I guess for right now I am until I can go and buy new ones.”

The strange man chuckled before noticing you wiping the blood falling into your eyes and turned all business.

“We have to get that cleaned. Do you have a first aid kit inside?” He asked, guiding you back up the hill by your shoulders.

“Uh, no, though I probably should have,” you said after thinking briefly.

“It’s fine, just hold a paper towel or something against it to stop the bleeding while I run back home and grab mine,” he said without hesitation, leaving you at the entrance while he started running back.

You were left speechless as you watched the blurry blob eventually disappear in the distance before you finally made your way to the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of paper towels before going back to sit on the porch while you waited for the — probably hot by the sound of his voice — apparent neighbor you didn’t even know you had.

By the time you noticed him jogging back with a white bag in hand, the bleeding on your forehead had stopped, but there was a dull ache in your hands where you’d caught yourself on the gravel.

He quickly unzipped the bag and took out what he needed before pulling up his jacket sleeves and getting to work.

Neither of you spoke while he cleaned the scrapes with antiseptic, and you couldn’t help but notice the scars all along his arms and hands while he worked, but you didn’t want to be rude and ask about them after just meeting him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you getting so close to him earlier.

“I’m [Y/N],” you finally broke the silence as he placed a large bandage on the palm of your hand, and he jumped as if he’d forgotten you were even there.

“I’m Adam,” he said once he composed himself, placing the trash back in the kit before zipping it closed.

“Well, Adam, I ought to repay you for saving my life,” you grinned as you heard him chuckle at your quip, “How about I feed you for your trouble?”

“That’s alright, it was no trouble really, and I wouldn’t want you to waste your food rations,” Adam tried to stand and decline the offer, but you grabbed his arm, pretending not to notice how he stiffened as your hand was directly on his largest scar.

“Come on, I’ve got enough canned vegetables to last the whole year,” you said gently, not wanting to come across as too pushy, “and some deer sausage in the freezer I’ve been saving for a special occasion. I think this fits the bill.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam finally agreed to come in and hang out while you made lunch. You cracked up watching the gigantic guy duck down to go in the front door and then awkwardly sit on your grandma’s tiny old lady couch.

He soon relaxed as time went on, the two of you talking about anything and everything while the food cooked.

You learned Adam was an editor, hence why he could stay up in his house all winter since he worked from home most of the time anyways. You also learned that your grandmother had been his only friend at the lake since he moved in, and while he didn’t elaborate on why, you could hazard a guess based on the scars on his arms.

You also figured out it was Adam who had been somewhat stalking you for the past week every time you went outside.

“I wasn’t stalking you, I was just scared of finding out something bad really had happened to your grandma,” Adam complained, “and I didn’t know how you’d take to seeing me while we’re both alone and trapped here for the winter.”

“Oh come on, how am I supposed to be scared of the guy who’s best friends with my grandma?” The two of you laughed and continued on talking about your various interests.

You discovered the two of you actually had a lot in common, from your senses of humor to books you both enjoyed. And you learned a lot about Adam. That he didn’t have any living relatives and, while he was currently making fairly good money as an editor, he hoped to one day write a novel of his own.

The conversation didn’t end even as you ate, and before you knew it, it was almost dark outside.

“Ah, jeez, you can’t go out in that,” you groaned once you looked out the window, “You can hurt yourself or get lost if it gets any later, and it’s a long walk back to your house.”

“It’s fine,” Adam insisted, grinning confidently, “There’s still some light, and I’ve got pretty good night vision, unlike somebody.”

You were skeptical to say the least, especially considering the fact that not once has Adam taken off his sunglasses around you. But, since he was pretty adamant about being able to walk on his own, you quickly gave in so he wouldn’t lose any more light, but not after forcing him to borrow one of your flashlights just in case.

After that, you and Adam got close pretty quickly, though he always seemed to keep some physical distance between you at all times. But, he would come help you clear out the rest of the bedrooms almost daily, so you couldn’t complain, even if the two of you mostly got distracted goofing off in between taking out the old furniture.

You’d given Adam your grandmother’s new number, so he was able to talk to her again, something she had been ecstatic about. And, you were able to have your parents pick up another pair of glasses for you so you could just drive down and get them as soon as the snow cleared.

Fortunately, you’d gotten the majority of the work done before meeting Adam, so there wasn’t really a rush to finish, not that you wanted to finish any time soon. While you had no doubt you and Adam would remain close even after the cabin was sold, you couldn’t help but hope the lazy days of hanging out every day never ended.

Your feelings for Adam had evolved over time, and you finally admitted to yourself you had a crush on the big softie when he slept over one night after you’d fallen asleep on him while he read one of the old books you’d found in one of the rooms out loud so you could listen, too.

Waking up in the morning to find that he’d gone to grab food from his house and made breakfast for the two of you was almost enough to have you get down on one knee and beg him to marry you right there.

In the blink of an eye, the worst of the snow was over and the roads were clear enough for you to finally go get your new glasses. But when you jokingly told Adam you’d finally get to have a good look at him that morning, he suddenly seemed to get distant, announcing that he had to get to work editing some manuscript somebody emailed him, so he probably wouldn’t be able to come over for a while.

You couldn’t shake how sad he had sounded as you drove down the mountainside, but you soon put the thought away as you pulled up to your parents’ house and stayed for a while to eat with them before going to pick up some paint samples and rollers from the hardware store before heading back to the cabin.

After dropping off everything you bought inside the living room, you decided to go visit Adam with your new glasses while checking to see what was wrong.

#monster boyfriend #zombie boyfriend #male monster #exophilia #reader insert

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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 5 years

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Evak Fics - Enemies to Lovers

Enemies to lovers, Enemies to friends to lovers. Hate/angry. Smut and no smut. And WIPs. Under a read more:

********** SMUT **********

The lie I didn't have to tell. by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (925 words) - Isak has an adultery kink that Even is happy to oblige.

Chapter 2 of Smutty Tumblr Prompts and Drabbles by isaksforelsket (2k words - It’s not that Even hated Isak Valtersen; he just strongly disliked him and his face, his attitude, his personality, and… okay so maybe he does hate him. Whatever.

I'm all yours by Skamtrash (2.7k words) - hate/jealous. - bad boy even+ rough sex.

Blood Rushed by folerdetdufoler (3.6k words) - Linn moved out of their flat a couple of months ago, and Isak and Eskild have been looking for someone to replace her. They were running out of money and options, so Eskild made a decision for the both of them. Isak was not happy when Even showed up in his hallway with five suitcases and his own key.

a little something (to make me sweeter) by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (4.5k words) - I wouldn't call it a feud exactly," Isak says and tries not to shift uncomfortably in his seat. It's one of his obvious tells and one that Sana has been trying to train him out of for quite some time.

lucky strike by Skamtrash (5.5k words) - Isak has hated Even the first day he met him on campus. And apparently Even is the new kid his friends are obsessed with.

New Perceptions by Skamtrash (9k words) - Isak hates frat boys. Even is in a frat and wants Isak.

A Thin Line Between Hate and… Other Stuff by TheFilthWithin (Flatfootmonster) (14k words) - Isak is studying while working at a coffee shop. His life is Ok... ish. Filled with lies, mocchiato's, and hook ups, fate storms in and lends a hand in the shape of Mr Spielberg, AKA film director Even.

I call'em as I see'em...But Sometimes I Don't See So Well by HazyCosmicJive (16k words) - Isak just wants to study, he doesn't want a new roommate who walks around naked all the time and constantly tests his patience

take my hand, take my whole life too by shadesofcool (16k words) - "Isak Valtersen?" Even snorts, shaking his head. "He's the most arrogant asshole I've ever met."

Hail Mary Pass by thekardemomme (20k words) - the term hail mary pass has become generalized to refer to any last-ditch effort with little chance of success. sleeping with isak valtersen until time starts running out is what causes even to realize just how vital these passes can be.

I Can't Fall In Love With Him, Stop Me From Falling by bashfulisak (25k words) - Prince Isak of Norway is set to be married to Princess Eva in three weeks time, with the proposal happening only days after the announcement. When Princess Eva and her family arrive with their gardener, Even, Isak can barely stand him strutting around his palace, getting in the way of the gardening work his friend Jonas has already done.

Not in the stars to hold our destiny by Stria (Asia117) (30k words) - “What the fuck,” Even murmurs, and Isak almost wants to mock him, but he refrains. He’s not 16 anymore. “Everything okay, Isak?” “Peachy.” Isak doesn’t look at him. “Go find someone else to talk to.”

An Officer And A Gentleman by Jamz24 (34k words) - Isak Valtersen and Even Bech Naesheim are the two best cadets at Oslo Military Academy - but they hate each other's guts. When they're stranded together in a snowy wilderness they have to work together to survive - but CAN they?

what i like about you by cammm (44k words) - might be mild smut. Insane infatuations turns into a short lived mutual distaste. Until that mutual distaste quickly shifts into something more.

For His Love to Flee by wyoheartsmusic (48k words) - in a world where vampires hide, two lost souls find each other.

Masquerade by Sabeley (53k words) - Isak and Even were best friends before one botched mission tore them apart. When they are assigned to go undercover as newlyweds at an oceanside resort where couples are going missing, can they put their differences aside for long enough to solve the case?

Red roses & cotton candy by dantetrieswriting (56k words) - A rose. He gave Isak a fucking red rose. Doesn't matter, Isak was still not interested. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

Legitimate Expectations by champagneleftie (57k words) - might be mild smut. It's a good time to be Isak Valtersen. The up-and-coming Norwegian authority on matters of freedom of press, several Supreme Court wins already on his resume - and still barely thirty. He's carved out a place in the world that he never thought he'd reach, but sometimes that place just feels a little too small and rigid. Enter Even.

mørketid by panshambles (61k words) - DELETED

717 Miles by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) (114k words) - Isak Valtersen has 3 weeks left of school. He has to survive 3 more weeks. Make it through 21 more days of hell. Then he is going to hide out in his room for the rest of the summer until he can figure out how to get his life back on track. Find a school far far away where he can start over. Not make mistakes. He doesn't need a fucking babysitter. He just doesn't. His life is fucked up enough as it is.

The trip to you by charlyflowers (148k words) - Isak hates Even. He hates him with all his heart. What a pity the art class is also coming to the trip to Germany.

Checking From Behind by DickAnderton (156k words) - Isak is to captain his hockey team this season which means he has to somehow learn to cooperate with the newest addition to their team: Even Bech Næsheim. This proofs to be impossible, especially when nothing about Even's mysterious transfer adds up and his moods are just too frustrating.

(WIP - Smut)

Magic Eight Ball by folerdetdufoler (22k words) - first update in Aug 2019. His cubicle is in the bullpen, but at the edge, across from the offices along one wall. When the Chief makes his announcements Isak stands near the middle, leaning against someone else's cube, reading emails on his phone instead of paying attention. This time, though, the Chief is introducing some new hires to the office: a sports editor, a city editor, and a marketing head. When Isak looks up to finally acknowledge the new team members, he gets a good look at the guy who is going to make his life a living hell.

.. to the next universe. by xoxoxo333 (27k words) - last update Sept 2019. Isak thinks Even is just a stupid bad boy until they meet more often and each of them tells the other more about his life, his secrets and fears.

The Naked Cleaner by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) (38k words) - last update July 2019. It’s always been a thing, the gag joke gift Isak’s so called friends present him with on his birthday. Not that people care much about birthdays these days, all of them being all grown up and sensible and mature and…. Adult. Isak hates that word. The not so Adult story of when Isak get's a cleaner.

I Want To Love You But I Don't Know How by Skamzombie (41k words) - 11/12 chapters posted. Isak and Even do not get along. In fact they hate each other. But when Even finds dirt on Isak, well it is almost too good to not use it to his advantage. And then somehow Isak finds himself in the drama club...with Even where drama is definitely promised.

put me in a movie by Evenbechbaesheim (42k words) - last update Jan 2018. Isak wants to be an actor, Even wants to be a director and they don’t quite get it right the first few times, but , like any good NRK drama- they can’t keep away from each other for very long. A story told through the months of the year.

If You Don't Love Me, Don't Tell Me by orphan_account (44k words) - 4/5 chapters posted. Even's two sided personality is what drives Isak's hatred towards him. An asshole frat boy at night while he parties, then a top student by day who charms everyone with his bright smile. Except, Isak doesn't believe that Even has any good intentions.

If You Love Me, If You Hate Me by MacksDramaticShenanigans (44k words) - last update March 2018. Isak could be chill. He was the chillest. He was a mature, reasonable adult that was perfectly capable of controlling his emotions. Not even Even could ruin that.

take me to the stars by iriswests (230k words) - last update Aug 2017. Isak thinks Even is pretentious and impractical. Even thinks Isak is arrogant and uptight. They’re not each other’s biggest fans, even if they do happen to have spectacular sex on a very, very drunken night. And Isak doesn’t mean to do it again, but he does, anyway, so now they’re establishing ground rules and deciding that maybe they can keep doing this, no strings attached, no commitments, no feelings, and, most importantly, no need to stop disliking each other. And then it’s not quite that simple anymore.

********** MILD or NO SMUT **********

Waking Up with Your Enemy by evak1isak (1.6k words) - Isak can't remember what he did last night, but he's woken up with a hangover, in his underwear and in the bed of the boy he loathes the most: Even Bech Næsheim.

black hearted angels sunk me (with kisses on my mouth) by traumatic (1.8k words) - A costume contest goes horribly, horribly right.

When I Kiss Your Soul by jinglebin (2.5k words) - Even's soulmate wasn't who he had expected or hoped it would be.

I like my sugar with coffee and cream by imminentinertia (4k words) - 5 times Even buys a coffee +1 time Isak buys a shirt.

Handcuff Your Way To My Heart by sugarbeat24 (4.3k words) - Isak and Even work at Buzzfeed and are roped into doing a video together. Lots of "oh my gods" and eyerolls ensue.

How Gay Culture Liberated the Modern World by panshambles (6k words) - DELETED

I'm Stuck on You by Twinklylightseverywhere (6k words) - Jonas lets out another nervous laugh. Isak wishes his best friend would shut up. “You two will take the spare room. Uh… with one bed.” “ONE BED?” Isak and Even both shout at the exact same time. “Merry Christmas!”

Hjerterum by littlemovie (Lejla) (6.3k words) - Isak cleared his throat. “Hi,” he tried again looking at who, he gathered, was the ever-elusive third roommate. Even walked to the fridge, keeping his eyes glued to his feet. He took two cans of coke from his shelve and a bag of chips from the counter before making his way down to the basement again, shutting the door behind him. Isak huffed out a breath. “Well, that’s rude,” he mumbled to himself.

thought i had you in the palm of my hand that night by hippopotamus (6.6k words) - They're roommates, and they don't get on at all. Until they do, at which point Even decides to develop a useless crush.

you call me lavender, you call me sunshine by aestheticzjm (8.4k words) - the one in which isak is forced to look over a friend's tattoo parlor and even works at the flower shop across the street.

Good Roast by lovelycarcass (9k words) - Even is a rising filmmaker and Isak is a cynical, sharp-tongued film critic.

Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (10k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him.

in the morning you'll dance with all the headache by bluesterek (19k words) - “Why do you hate me? Is it still about that kiss in first grade?” “You kissed my crush in front of me, Even.” “Yeah well, sorry about that, but that was like a century ago. Besides, you don’t even like girls.” “Excuse me, what?”

en passant by peachbombs (21k words) - The first time Isak and Even had gone up against each other at a competition, the judges had declared a tie. Newspapers covered the occurrence as an unusual feat—it was a debate competition; one side had to win over another. That was the whole point. But it kept happening. Candy jar au.

i didn't mean to kiss you (you didn't mean to fall in love) by shadesofcool (24k words) - football/cheerleader au with not much football and cheerleading because i only know the basics

Dear Friend by bri_ness (26k words) - Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other. Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal. She Loves Me AU

through these dark days by hippopotamus (29k words) - This is the world Isak lives in, half dead, half empty, half wild. A makeshift camp in a dying forest with twe- eleven other people, salvaging anything they can to make it easier, hunting any animal they can find to make it survivable.

hearts a mess by slvtherxn (31k words) - Jonas takes the new kid at school under his wing, and everyone instantly loves him... everyone but Isak. He’s cool, and older, and funny, but whenever he talks, Isak gets the weirdest nauseating feeling in his stomach. He thinks he might hate him.

Come On, Set the Tone by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug (57k words) - Isak is a recently out popstar who wants to prove that he is not just another pretty face in pop music. Even is a self contained, indie singer songwriter who takes shit from nobody. Shortly after a public feud between the two begins, they’re forced together for a nationwide tour.

Blood vs. Water by bri_ness (100k words) - Survivor au. Isak and Even become become rivals very early on and they constantly mess with each other.

You Don't Even Know Me! by cuteandtwisted (101k words) - "Let's keep our daddy issues out of work," said Even. "Excuse me?!" The one in which Isak and Even are interns who got off the wrong foot and don't like each other at all (except that they do).

(WIP - No smut)

I hate that I want you by daisysmalia (17k words) - last update Jan 2017. Isak hates Even. He hates him so much that he even wrote a list. A list of everything to hate about the idiot. From his stupid smile to his windswept hair. From his random flirting with everyone to the fact he knows his name. To that feeling Isak gets when Even is around.

i hate your face, it makes my heart skip a beat by Bellakitse (20k words) - last update Sept 2017. Isak is failing History and his friends have the great idea that their new friend Even should tutor him. It's perfect except Isak doesn't like Even or the way his stupid face makes his stomach flip.

helium hearts (we're on fire) by itjustkindahappened (27k words) - last update May 2019. 10 Things I Hate About You!AU. Eva enrolls at Hartvig Nissens VGS in Oslo and falls headfirst for the popular and pretty Vilde Lien. Vilde, however, is not allowed to date until Isak—her sarcastic, misantropic introvert of a step brother—does. Together with her new group of friends, Eva comes up with a plan to set Isak up with the school's rumor-ridden bad boy Even Bech Næsheim so she can take her crush out.

we are made up of love and hate by everythingislove (straykid), puddingandpie (42k words) - last update July 2018. the one where Isak joins his best friends on their first North American tour and definitely does not fall for Even Bech Næsheim, their infuriating(ly handsome) opening act.

a careful hypothesis of the heart by StMisery (87k words) - 12/13 chapters posted. "The boss' fucking son got the job. Out of a pool of dedicated applicants. You can't just deny nepotism like that," he said. "I'm Isak, by the way. I didn't catch your name?" Leaning against the metal banister in the elevator, the other man was the picture of calm. "I'm the boss' fucking son," he said.

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #enemies to lovers #hate/angry #alright i'm tired you guys

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j2reversebang · 5 years

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2018 Master Post

Word Count: 4000 - 6000 Title: Darkest Before Dawn Artist: bluefire986 Author: storyspinner70 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Some violence (not terribly explicit), use of magic and necromancy, pre-slash, hurt Jensen, little bit of hurt Jared. Summary: Jensen and Jared have been at odds for nearly a year now - the result of reality and dreams clashing violently. Jared wanted more than the normal life of the second Prince. Jensen wanted nothing more than to keep Jared with him forever. They're brought back together when Jensen's mother, long presumed dead, returns to his kingdom and calls him home. Can he leave Jared behind? And what happens when he finds out that, like usual, nothing is as it seems? Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: Slow Road to Somewhere Good Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: amypond45 Other Pairings: past Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jensen Ackles, past OCs/Jared Padalecki Rating: PG Warnings/Spoilers: past abusive relationship, friends to future lovers, cuddling without sex Summary: Fifteen years ago, Jared was the younger brother of Jensen’s best friend. Now, Jensen’s a popular online magazine editor, actor, and director, and Jared is a freelance photographer. When they meet at the launch party for Jensen’s latest project, Jensen’s instantly attracted to the gorgeous man who used to be the boy next door. Can Jensen overcome his past mistakes to take a chance on love with the man who was once like a little brother to him? Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Live Journal | Ao3 Title: In the Company of Wolves Artist: darklittleheart96 Author: storyspinner70 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Alpha/Omega, Alpha Jensen, Omega Jared, Non-Consensual Werewolf Turning, Werewolves, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rough Sex, Explicit Sexual Content Summary: Agent Jared Padalecki had spent his life as far away from werewolves as he could get. He understood they weren’t all the creatures that attacked his sister, but he could hold a grudge like the best of them. When what looks like a serial killer hits his Texas town, he finds he must work with one – Jensen Ackles. He does his best to stay civil, but how will things go when the case takes a turn no one was expecting? Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: Green or Grey Artist: junkerin Author: annie46 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: None Summary: Jared is an environmental activist trying to protect a beautiful green valley that houses many endangered species. Jensen is the building tycoon who plans to develop the valley. On the first meeting of the two, emotions fly high and not only because of the controversy at hand. Why has the other to be so stubborn and so damn attractive? Art: N/A Story: Live Journal Title: Size Does Matter (On Occasion) Artist: jdl71 Author: herminekurotowa Rating: PG-13 Warnings/Spoilers: dragon!Jared, hurt!Jensen (what a surprise) Summary: The first impression is important. Jared's a young dragon. He has been lonely for a long time, but he'd never thought he'd meet his mate stuck in a McDonald'sbag. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: Regarding Jensen Artist: amberdreams Author: hunters_retreat Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: amnesia, assassins Summary: He looked at the other man and drew a complete blank. Where his name should be, there was nothing. No name. No birthday. He didn’t know where he was or what had brought him there. He couldn’t remember being shot, or why someone would want to shoot him. There was nothing. No parents. No siblings. No childhood memories. No adult memories either. “I don’t remember anything.” Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 | Tumblr Title: Dream Painter Artist: tx_devilorangel Author: maryjo24 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Memory Loss/Amnesia from a past assault, Dream Sex Summary: Up and coming artist Jared Padalecki is brutally attacked one night and comes out of it battered, his hands crushed, and unable to recall the hours preceding the attack. The only clues for those missing hours, and of his attacker, are apparently buried deep in his subconscious, revealed only in dreams and nightmares. Obsessively, Jared spends months in therapy of his own design, strengthening and retraining his damaged hands through painting on canvas after canvas the form of a single man. Who is this man, is he real – could he be Jared’s attacker, or is he someone else? Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Live Journal | Ao3 Word Count: 6000 - 8000 Title: Christmas Invitation Artist: wondering_why_i Author: jdl71 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Kissing, Angst, Pinning, Mutual Pining, Mention of Homophobia - not by J2, College AU - Jared & Jensen are the same age Summary: It’s the Christmas break for Jared and Jensen. Jared is torn between his feeling for Jensen and maintaining their friendship and his status of roommate. Can time alone, in a cabin in the snowy woods help Jared figure things out? Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: From the Land of the Midnight Sun Artist: bluefire986 Author: amypond45 Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: post-apocalypse AU, bottom!Jensen, powers!boys Summary: Jared’s life is pretty ordinary, if a bit lonely, until the day he slides down a snowy mountainside and falls into a cave. Or is it a tomb? Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal | Ao3 Title: Until the End Artist: knowmefirst Author: hunters_retreat Rating: PG 13 Warnings/Spoilers: Post-apocalyptic Summary: Jared liked being on the Earth, scorched as it was. He didn’t care if he carried dirt in his every fiber. He didn’t care that his hair took three cleaning cycles when he got back to the station just to be truly free of it again. He didn’t care that his skin tanned darker each time he was on assignment and his once pale skin never seemed to return to the shade he had been born with, or that his sun-darkened skin was decades out of fashion. Art: N/A Story: Live Journal | Tumblr | Ao3 Word Count: 8000 - 10000 Title: A Tigrefying Tail Artist: kuwlshadow Author: alyndra Other Pairing: Background Jared/Gen Rating: G Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Jared Padalecki is transformed into a tiger on the set of Supernatural.Shenanigans ensue. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: My Barista, My Pianist My Muse Artist: jdl71 Author: i_o_r_h_a_e_l Other Pairing: Mention of past Jeff/Jensen Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: Angst, Hurt Jensen, Bottom Jensen, Top Jared, Past Abuse, Barista Jensen, Pianist Jensen, Artist Jared Summary: Jared Padalecki is an artist whose last showing was well received, but went nowhere. He’d get his big break if only he could find the perfect model. While sitting in a coffee shop, he spies the barista, an intriguing looking Jensen. Jared thinks he’d be the perfect model, now all he has to do is convince Jensen of that, and possibly that Jensen should date him. Jensen finds himself pursued by Jared Padalecki, an artist. Jensen isn’t sure what to make of this man. Is he serious about wanting him to model for him or is just another way for some guy to hit on him? He’s not too sure what to make of this artist, aside from the fact that Jared is just the man he could fall for. Then there is the case of an ex. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Word Count: 10000 - 15000 Title: I Heard the First Wave of the Rising Tide Artist: 2blueshoes Author: whispered_story Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Jensen loves the ocean—and watching the hot guy who's almost always surfing during Jensen's morning stroll along the beach. He's happy to just admire the guy from afar, but Jared is determined to become a part of Jensen's life—starting with teaching him how to surf. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Two Hearts [Are One] Artist: bluefire986 Author: non_tiembo_mala Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon Jensen Ackles, Magic, King Jared, Age Difference, Wedding Night, Predestination, First Time, Virgin Jared, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Top Jensen, Bottom Jared Summary: Jared is a prince who can only become King through marriage to one of Dragonkind, but not just any dragon. Jensen is his match, predestined by the gods, and he has waited for Jared to come along for a very, very long time.Their wedding night is one centuries in the making. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: Joker’s Wild Artist: emmatheslayer Author: crownoyami Other Pairing: Jared/Cindy (Past/Mentioned) Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Jared/Jensen, Past Jared/Cindy, Bottom Jensen, Top Jared, Top Jensen, Bottom Jared, Topping From the Bottom, Switching, Anal Fingering, Hand jobs, Anal Sex, Gender Swap Cosplay, Comic-Con, Oral Sex, Playing with the Timeline, Rimming, Barebacking, Light Angst, Fluff. Summary: Going to Comic-Con at the insistence of his girlfriend, Jared was looking to unwind for a weekend. What he found was a Joker he can’t get out of his head. When he returns the following year, they start a romance as passionate as the characters they portray. But will it last for more than a weekend a year? Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: Drop Dead Fed Artist: merakieross Author: zara_zee Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: gun violence, organised crime, top/bottom switching, FBI, Assassins, NSFW art Summary: Special Agent Jensen Ackles is working day and night to bring down the infamous Cortese Drug Cartel. His workload is so demanding that he hasn’t been laid in months, which is probably why he’s crushing hard on Jay – the hot guy who recently opened Jack of Tarts, the awesome new bakery near the office. They’ve been flirting for weeks and Jensen is sure it’s building up to something mind blowing. Someone trying to blow his brains out while he’s getting his daily cupcake fix is not exactly what he had in mind. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: Lost for You Artist: dephigravity Author: dancing_adrift Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: N/A Summary: Jensen is more than a little in love with Tristan, a go-go dancer at the club he goes to every Tuesday. He'd consider making a move, too, asking him out or something, if it weren't for the tiny scrap of material Tristan is always wearing around his neck. That collar tells Jensen that, while Tristan looks like everything he could ever want, he's the exact opposite of the sort of partner Jensen needs. Luckily for Jensen, he couldn't be more wrong in his assumptions, and Jared "Tristan" Padalecki is going to prove it to him. Art: Live Journal | Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: You'e Got Time Artist: emmatheslayer Author: tammyrenh Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: switching, cursing, panic attack, some fighting (mainly pushing) Summary: Jensen and Jared were once friends, but things didn't end well between them. After his parents' death, Jared went into a tail spin that ended with him in the prison camp that Jensen works as a guard. Things between them are tense and when their temperatures rise - well sometimes sex happens. Can they find a way to forgive each other their sins of the past (and of the present?) Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Word Count: 20000 - 40000 Title: Healing the Strong Artist: darklittleheart96 Author: crownoyami Other Pairings: Richard/Robert, Past Richard/Jared Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Bottom Jared, Top Jensen, Not Historically Accurate, Violence, Killing, Hurt Jared, Slavery, Minor Character Death, Sword Wounds, Pining, Masturbation, Implied/Referenced Rape, Past Relationships, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Anal Play, Rough Oral Sex, Facials, BDSM Undertones, Spanking, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Biting, Hair Tugging/Pulling, Virgin Jensen, Bondage, Sleep-Sex, Anal Sex, 69, Coming Untouched, Bareback, Possessive Jensen, Morning Sex, Slight Breath Play, Rough Sex, Rimming, Thoughtful Richard, Caring Robert, Bar Fight, Gambling Mentions, Mentions of Flagellation, Mentions Jared/Others. Summary: When Jared is forced to leave the Colosseum, having gotten injured in his last fight which almost cost his him life, Richard his manager has the idea of buying the gladiator a slave to help care for him. Young Jensen wasn’t like the other slaves at the market, his eyes burned with defiance and in his youth was a strength rarely shown in slaves. Having a slave in his home wasn’t what Jared wanted, but as they spend their days together it could be just what he needs. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: We Are Sick Artist: emmatheslayer Author: wincest_whore Other Pairing: Jensen/Danneel (briefly - non graphic) Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, obsessive!Jensen, self harm, violence, character death (minor), barebacking, dub-con, unrealistic depictions of a mental hospital Summary: Jensen Ackles: sick, twisted, cold-blooded killer. Jared Padalecki: broken, hopeless romatic, addicted to self harm. When their paths cross, it ignites a fire too bright to ignore. Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal Title: The Billionaire and the Bandit Artist: missyswife37 Author: twoboys2love Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: mentions cruelty to horses Summary: Jensen Ackles is a wealthy rancher who deals in race horses. When some of his horses go missing, he sets up a trap to catch the thieves. He catches...Jared Padalecki. Jared has a very low opinion of Jensen but agrees to work off his debt on the ranch. Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal | Ao3 Title: These Real and Vivid Dreams Artist: gotaprettymouth Author: wincest_whore Other Pairing: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: drug use, character death(s), suicide, no happy ending Summary: After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, Jensen spirals down a dark path. Will his friends be able to pull him back from this road? Or will he succumb to his dark impulses? Art: Live Journal Story: Live Journal Title: Head Over Feet Artist: marietwist Author: non_tiembo_mala Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Reference to past suicide attempt Summary: When Jensen's therapist suggests he do some volunteer work, he starts helping out at a soup kitchen downtown. Meeting Jared, the guy who runs it, is the first in a string of good surprises that just might change Jensen's life for the better. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: Dragon’s Heart Artist: crownoyami Author: darklittleheart96 Other Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Samantha Smith Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Minor Character Death, Blood and Injury, Dragon, Mentioned Massacre, Violence, Soulmates, Magic, Mutual Pining, Daydreams, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Top Jensen Ackles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Consensual Bondage, Injured Jared, Slavery, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Anal Play, Anal Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Barebacking, Anal Sex, Rimming, Coming Untouched, Oral Sex, Nonbinary Character Summary: Jensen is the next in line to become Chief of their clan. To earn his place, first, he must complete a quest to prove his worth. Thankfully, he is given aid in the form of the head warrior, Jared to help protect him. Perhaps with both their skills they will be able to complete the seemingly impossible task of obtaining the dragon’s heart. Jensen never thought he would find something more valuable than his title along the journey. But can Jensen return home with both the dragon’s heart and his own intact? Or will their return rip Jared away from his arms? Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3

#j2 reverse bang #j2 reverse bang 2018 #mod post #master post #master post 2018

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vgperson · 5 years

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What Did I Translate in 2018?

#vgperson

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icharchivist · 5 years

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@fairygeneral replied to your photo “outch Hoshino just announced on instagram that her right hand got...”

I have read this manga every once in a while since i was 14 (now 23), and i still don't know what is happening with her. Can anyone explain? Do you think the story can ever be completed?

@minikat006 replied to your photo “outch Hoshino just announced on instagram that her right hand got...”

How is she always damaging her hand? I never questioned it before but seriously, how? Is it from drawing? Is it from unrelated accidents? I love the series and so I love Hoshino but I am getting a little irate because it's literally been years without consistent updates

Ah you’ll excuse me, the questions are similar so i’m lurping them together.

Hoshino had had health issues she’s been talking about ever since 2009. It originally forced her to go from weekly to monthly to then in a hiatus when she couldn’t keep up with monthly, and come back after three years in a one-issue-every-three-months deal.

Officially it is a lot about serious wrist injury. Now i’m no expert, but i’m almost certain that if you force on an injury that is bone or muscle related like that, in a period it should be recovering, it actually makes it more fragile and more likely to hurt again in a similar fashion later.

And I’m pretty certain this is what she did, as she tried to look past her previous injuries in 2009. So I would suspect that by pushing the use of her wrist while she should have been recovering caused irreversible damages that makes her wrist more fragile and will eventually get strains from it.

So it’s not a question of “always damaging her hand” as more a question of, her hand is fragile and it gets easier to get hurt from there on.

in 2009 when she went in monthly, it was also rumored she had problems with her editors that took a toll on her mental health as well, which ultimately pushed to a hiatus in 2012. Let it get this straight, it would mean that she would have pushed through her wrist injury for 3 years by ignoring the pain and keep drawing. I suspect this sort of things leave marks.

(it is something that is actually observed a lot with athletes, so it’s not without precendent either; and this kind of injuries are doomed to stay and come back especially if not properly taken care of when they originally happen.)

She started up an instagram to start training herself to draw again after recovery in 2014 and later, in 2015, she was able to strike a deal with Shounen Jump to be part of the one-issue-every-three-months deal in order to ease back her transition into it. (note i do not know who’s idea it was to strike that deal, except that Hoshino had expressed having missed the series too much to let it down with her lack of parution)

Around that same time, Shounen Jump tried to bring back the interest to the series by launtching a new anime, an artbook (mainly filled with the instagram doodles) and a guidebook, which trippled Hoshino’s workload.

Hoshino originally participated in helping the animation’s promo team in order to keep on her vision, until she was unable to keep the 4 projects going on at the same time. Note that this is what resulted in her instagram deletation as well, as the promo team of the anime did some... horrendous promo choices Hoshino complained about on her instagram, and her editors pushed her to close it down. (more details here) (her instagram just reopened a few monthes ago and she publishes back a few doodles on it now.)

After the closure of her instagram was the time of the infamous “7 pages long Chapter”. If i remember my timeline correctly, Hallow had since then been an audience failure, with its Blu-Ray DVDs being cancelled at the last minute, and Hoshino had to focus on the artbook and guidebook which had to get out in the months that followed. It could be argued that it was pressure from the magazine in order to make sure to make the DGM property rentable after the commercial disaster that was Hallow. (Note though that DGM is still considered a valuable property as it is one of the major reasons people actually buy the magazine it is into, so the editor house would rather treat it well. If we keep supporting it.)

Since we had lost her instagram in the meantime, we hadn’t had any news about how she was doing. I would note however that i’m almost certain she skipped chapters only around the “7 pages long chapter”. So I would personally put the blame on the workload there. And we didn’t have any news of her.

I don’t know how she managed to barging to get on Instagram again, and i think you guys don’t realize how lucky we are to have actual news from the sources of what’s going on. when we lost her previous instagram she was obviously under a lot of stress due to the stuff coming out at that time, and we hadn’t had updates about what her health was up to.

She had however kept a regular parution those past few issues now that her workload seemed to decrease. Also note that she had also kept a close, regular look in the parution of the volume versions of the manga when she couldn’t focus on drawing it.

As for how her hand got hurt this time around, your guess is as good as mine, but i would bet it’s that it is fragile to start with.

We’re already lucky we have news about that.

She so far had said nothing about pushing back publications for the next issue either. Please note that the next chapter comes out in one week, so it’s already done and sent to the editors, she mentioned having finished it a couple of days ago on her instagram.

It means we have 3 months to know if she will recover more or less quickly and if she will be able to make another chapter in the meantime. It is also possible that she isn’t seriously hurt and is currently mostly picking up on warning signs on why she should slow down. I just cheked with a friend who talks Japanese for details and Hoshino apparently mentions in her post (which my translator didn’t translate) that it should be healed in time for an event. Meaning that it is not too serious. and will likely be better in a couple of time. It’s her past injury showing up and she took in the warning sign before it really started to seriously hurt.

It isn’t our place to be irritated over the health of the author. She’s already doing a lot to try to keep the story afloat while having issues to start with.

As of now, this injury changes nothing to the immediate plans.

We’re already lucky DGM is a passion project and that Hoshino wants to see it done. She will do her best to finish the series since it’s something that is very close to her heart.

I am pretty certain she is just as, if not much more irritated than we are to not be able to carry on a regular parution on a story she loves this much.

What is done is done. The issue comes from back in the days. There’s nothing we can do now than be patient or she risks to lose her ability to draw all together.

So I don’t know if or when the story will be completed. I’m patient. I care too much about this story to let it down and i value the health of the author. So I’ll wait and see how it evolves.

As of now, i’d say, keep an eye on her instagram. At least we’re lucky to have news.

Please consider that her health is more important than the parution of the story, no matter how much we all care about it.

Please take care.

#fairygeneral #minikat006 #ichareply #ichafantalks dgm #hoshino health #hoshino katsura #please please be nice to her #and don't be 'irate' for something she has no control over

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ruminativerabbi · 5 years

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Poway

At the end of the Yizkor Service last Saturday, I invited the congregation to join me in widening the scope of our prayerful focus as the cantor chanted the twenty-third psalm to include not just our co-religionists murdered while at prayer at the Har Nof synagogue in Jerusalem or in Pittsburgh, but also the members of other faiths who have been similarly killed in their own houses of worship. Foremost in my mind, obviously, were the dead in New Zealand and Sri Lanka. But I also had in mind those poor souls executed in Charleston in 2015 by an individual sufficiently depraved to have been capable of murdering people with whom he had just spent an hour—his victims’ last hour on earth—studying Scripture, as well as the twenty-six innocents murdered during Sunday prayers at the church in Sutherland Springs in Texas in 2017 and the six killed at the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek in Wisconsin in 2012. Little did I know that another such outrage would be perpetrated on the Pacific coast in California just a few hours after I was done addressing my own congregation as part of the same Yizkor service at which I was speaking. Or how personal it would feel to me—and neither because Poway is just an hour or so down the road from the town in California in which I used to live nor because Yom Hashoah just happened to be falling this week.

It’s hard to imagine a less likely place for an attack like that than Poway. It’s a quiet place, a suburban/rural community of fewer than 50,000 souls north of San Diego and south of Escondido off of Interstate 15. And although I’m sure many Californians—and certainly most Americans—couldn’t have said exactly where Poway was last Friday, it now joins Sutherland Springs or Oak Creek in our national roster of places people previously hadn’t heard of yet now speak about as though they’ve known where they were all their lives.

Nor was the storyline unfamiliar, at least as the police have pieced it together so far. A disaffected young man, in this case just a teenager, falls under the sway of white supremacist doctrine and concludes that his personal problems—and the problems of his fellow travelers—are being inflicted upon him and them by some identifiable group of others—in this case Jews, but the role also fillable, as we all know all too well, by black people, gay people, Hispanic people, Asian people, or any other recognizable minority. A manifesto—in this case really just a letter—detailing the specifics is composed and posted online or otherwise distributed to the media. And then the young man—almost never a woman although I’m not sure why exactly that is—gets his hands on the kind of gun that can kill a lot of people very quickly. The screed is posted. The die is cast. The killer gets into his car and drives to what he must realize could just as easily turn out to be the site of his own death as well as that of the people he is planning to make into his victims. And then he opens fire and kills none or one or some or many. (For a very interesting analysis posted on the Live Science website regarding the specific theories proposed to explain why so few women become mass killers, click here.)

The next part too feels almost scripted. The police issue a statement and open an investigation. The following day, the front page of America’s newspapers are filled with statements of outrage by public officials of various sorts. A day or a week later, there’s a follow-up piece about the victim’s funeral or the victims’ funerals. The nation shudders for a long moment, then moves on. Except for those who actually knew the victims, the matter dies down and eventually someone shoots up some other place and the cycle of outrage followed by getting over it begins anew. For most, the moving on part feels healthy. And it surely is so that the goal when someone we love or admire dies is precisely to move through the initial shock that almost inevitably comes upon us in the wake of unanticipated loss to a kind of resigned acceptance, and from there to true comfort rooted in a new reality. But can that concept rationally be applied to incidents like the murder of Lori Gilbert-Kaye in Poway last Shabbat?

What surprised me the most about the California shooting is how inevitable it all felt. Indeed, to a certain extent, it felt like we were watching yet another remake of a movie we’d all seen before. There were the expected presidential tweets lauding Rabbi Yisroel Goldstein, whom the President has surely never met, as (of all things) “a great guy.” And there was the expected tongue-clucking by the leaders of Congress and by the chief executive officers of every conceivable Jewish and non-Jewish organization, all of them decrying the fact that this kind of violence directed against houses of worship is slowly—and not that slowly either—taking its place next to school shootings and nightclub shootings and military base shootings and concert-venue shootings and movie theater shootings as part of our American mosaic, and that there doesn’t seem to be anything at all to do about it. The traditional debate about repealing the Second Amendment then ensues. Would such a move prevent this kind of incident? I doubt it—but it’s hardly worth debating, given that the chances of the Second Amendment being repealed in any of our lifetimes are exactly zero.

Last November, after the shooting in Pittsburgh, I wrote about a science experiment I recall from my tenth-grade biology class, one in which our teacher demonstrated that you can actually boil a frog alive without restraining it in any way if you only heat the water slowly enough for the rising temperature to remain unnoticed by the poor frog until it becomes paralyzed and thus unable to hop out of its petri dish to safety. (To revisit those comments, click here.) Is that where we Jewish Americans are, then, in an open-but-slowly-warming petri dish? It hardly feels that way to me…but, of course, it doesn’t feel that way to the frog either. And yet the degree to which we have all become inured to anti-Semitic slurs, including in mainstream media, makes me wonder if we shouldn’t be channeling that poor amphibian’s last thoughts a little more diligently these days.

Just last week, the New York Times published in its international edition a cartoon that could have come straight out of any Nazi newspaper in the 1930s. The cartoon, by a Portuguese cartoonist named António Moreira Antunes, was picked up by a service that the Times uses as a source for political cartoons and apparently approved for publication by a single editor whom the Times has not identified by name. Its publication too triggered a storm of outrage from all the familiar sources, but the response the whole sorry incident provoked in me personally was captured the most eloquently by Bret Stephens, himself an opinion columnist for the Times, who wrote that the cartoon—which features a Jewish dog with Benjamin Netanyahu’s face and wearing a big Star of David necklace leading a blind and obese Donald Trump whose ridiculous black kippah only underscores the extent to which he has become the unwitting slave of his wily Jewish dog-master—came to him (and to most, and surely to me personally) as “a shock but not a surprise.” To read Stephen’s piece, in which he goes on to describe in detail and to deplore his own newspaper’s “routine demonization of Netanyahu,” its “torrential criticism of Israel,” its “mainstreaming of anti-Zionism,” and its “longstanding Jewish problem, dating back to World War II,” click here. You won’t enjoy reading what he has to say. But you should read it anyway.

I’m guilty of unwarranted complacency myself, more than aware that I barely even notice untruths published online or in print about Jews or about Israel. After the Israeli election, for example, I lost track of how many opinion pieces I noticed interpreting the Netanyahu victory as a kind of death knell for the two-state solution. (One example would be the headline of the Daily, the daily New York Times podcast, for April 11: “Netanyahu Won. The Two-State Solution Lost.”) The clear implication is that the Palestinians will only have an independent state in the Middle East when Israel finally decides they can have one. But is that even remotely true? Palestine has been “recognized” by 136 out of the United Nations’ 193 member states. If the Palestinian leadership were to declare their independence today and invite the neighbors in (and not solely the Israelis, but the Jordanians and the Egyptians as well) to settle border issues, and then get down to the business of nation building, who could or would stand in their way? But the Palestinians have specifically not moved in that direction…and surely not because the Israelis haven’t permitted it. That much seems obvious to me, but how many times have I just let it go after seeing that specific notion promulgated as an obvious truth? Too many! Just as I haven’t always responded when I see other ridiculous claims intended solely to degrade Jews or Judaism or to deny historical reality. (When the Times published a piece by one of its own reporters, Eric V. Copage, a few weeks ago in which the author denied that Jesus of Nazareth had been a Jew and suggested instead that he must have been a Palestinian, presumably a Palestinian Arab, I didn’t run to my computer to point out that there were no Palestinian Arabs in the first century C.E. since the Arab invasion of Palestine only took place six centuries after Jesus lived and died, granting myself the luxury of leaving that work to others. Many did speak up and a week later the Times published a “revised” version of the piece that omitted the offensive reference. But my point is that I personally should have spoken out and now feel embarrassed by my own silence.)

It’s true that the Times published a long self-excoriating editorial about the cartoon episode just this week in which it acknowledged its own responsibility for fomenting anti-Semitism among its readers. (Click here to read it.) That was satisfying to read, but it should remind us that the only useful way to respond to Poway is to resolve to speak out more loudly and more clearly when we see calumnies, lies, or libelous untruths in print about Israel or about the Jewish people…and not to just assume that other people will do the heavy lifting while we remain silent.

#Poway #The New York Times #anti-Semitism

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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Did Trump Say Republicans Are The Dumbest

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/did-trump-say-republicans-are-the-dumbest/

Did Trump Say Republicans Are The Dumbest

Most Dictators Rig Elections To Win With His Postal Service Gambit Trump Merely Wants Everybody To Lose With Him

What would the U.S. media say if the president of another country was threatening to hobble his nation’s postal service in hopes of suppressing ballots ahead of an election?

Every once in a while, an American journalist gets this notion: to imagine how the national press would cover a particular domestic story, whether it be white nationalist violence or protests against racist policing, as if it were happening in another country. It’s a venerable and sometimes illuminating frame—a way for Americans, given to believing in their own exceptionalism, to see themselves and their country’s troubles from a different vantage.

But in the postal case, and increasingly in the age of Trump, the “if it happened there” test proves of little use. It is 2020, after all, and there is no global shortage of demagogues and authoritarians making a joke of democratic processes. They stuff ballot boxes, jail opposition leaders, harass journalists, and threaten voters. They exploit all the tools at their disposal to rig an election in their favor. They increasinglywelcome elections, in fact, with recent scholarship showing “that elections can actually prolong dictatorships in the longer term,” as three European political scientists put it.

With Universal Mail-In Voting , 2020 will be the most INACCURATE & FRAUDULENT Election in history. It will be a great embarrassment to the USA. Delay the Election until people can properly, securely and safely vote???

— Donald J. Trump July 30, 2020

This Meme About How Donald Trump Called Republicans The Dumbest Group Of Voters In The Country Is Fake

The fake quote has been floating around the internet since about the time Trump announced his presidential bid in 2015. It has been widely shared on Twitter and Facebook by people eager to expose the businessman-turned-politician as a hypocrite for leading a party he once, allegedly, mocked.

“If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican,” the fake quote reads. “They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

News 1998 People Magazine Quote Attributed To Trump Calling Republicans The Dumbest Voters Is False

Social media users shared a quote attributed to Donald Trump alleging that he said Republicans are “the dumbest group of voters in the country.”

Trump’s alleged quote to People Magazine in 1998 reads, “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

– MRS MCK ??? November 5, 2020

Speaking the truth for once. “@Lynneth1000000: Boris Johnson is our Trump. #GTTO#Elections2020pic.twitter.com/hy0rwkqvDP“

– David Rhodes November 5, 2020

“If I were to run I’d run as a republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country.” Donald Trump, 1998. @FoxNews@PressSec@DonaldJTrumpJr@realDonaldTrump@GOP@[email protected]/cHY2Mt9sWY

– KarenS November 2, 2020

Fact Check/ Verification

As expected, the run-up to the United States Presidential election results saw a number of misleading and false claims circulating online.

A relevant keyword search on Google led us to a fact check done by Reuters in May.

It quotes a magazine spokesperson as mentioned in Factcheck.org, “People looked into this exhaustively when it first surfaced back in Oct. . We combed through every Trump story in our archive. We couldn’t find anything remotely like this quote-and no interview at all in 1998.”

Result: False

Snopes: https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/1998-trump-people-quote/

Disclaimer

Trump ‘knows Republicans Are Stupid’ Jared Kushner Allegedly Said To Former Editor

Greg Price U.S.Jared KushnerDonald TrumpRepublicans

One of the strategies Donald Trump employed as he began putting his name on the U.S. political map years ago was championing “birtherism,” the long-held conspiracy theory that President Barack Obama was born outside of the U.S. and hence should never have been elected. He often chastised Obama and demanded the president produce his birth certificate, revving up an anti-Obama base that eventually helped put Trump in the White House.

Evidently, Trump may have been using the so-called birthers only as a means to an end.

His son-in-law, Jared Kushner, who is also a senior adviser to the president, allegedly told a former editor of the newspaper he once owned that the billionaire real-estate mogul didn’t believe his own “birtherism” claims, and only made them to charge up Republicans because they are “stupid,” GQ reported.

During a discussion on how to cover Trump, the former New York Observereditor, Elizabeth Spiers, claimed she told Kushner that she had serious problems with Trump’s repeated claims that Obama was not born in the U.S., to which Kushner allegedly told her: “He doesn’t really believe it, Elizabeth. He just knows Republicans are stupid and they’ll buy it.”

Spiers told her Kushner anecdote in response to a question from a conservative blogger on Facebook, and then screenshotted the response and put it up on Twitter.

Top 10 Actual Things Donald Trump Said At His 2016 Presidential Campaign Kickoff

Top 10 Actual Things Donald Trump Said At His 2016 Presidential Campaign Announcement

? — On Tuesday, real estate mogul-turned reality show star, Donald Trump, became the latest Republican to jump into the 2016 presidential race.

If he’s elected in 2016, the GOP hopeful predicated that he would be the most successful president for U.S. jobs that “God ever created,” used the recent sale of a multi-million dollar apartment he owned to someone from China as an example of his friendly ties with the country, voiced concern that people from the Middle East are “probably” sneaking into the country through the border, and revealed that rich Islamic terrorists are his competition within the hotel market in Syria.

This is all real, and it’s trademark Trump. Here are the quotes from Trump’s presidential announcement that you will never hear another presidential candidate say — ever.

Most Of Trump’s Stories Then Were About His Pending Divorce From Marla Maples

• While the quote has been debunked several times since it apparently surfaced in 2015, users have recently been resharing it on social media.

• Most of Trump’s stories were about his pending divorce from Marla Maples and appearances at various social and entertainment events.

Fact Checker

A magazine photo claiming that US President Donald Trump referred to Republican voters as ‘dumbest voters’ is false.

The photo- that has gone viral on social media platforms quotes the Peoples Magazine in 1998, where it is alleged Trump said if he were to dip his toes in politics, he would use the Republican ticket.

“If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific,” read the message purporting to be a quote from Trump.

Several Twitter users including Azeem ButtValryLeBourg and MuthuiMkenya in reference to the ongoing US election indicated that one does not have to be smart if their followers are stupid.

While the quote has been debunked several times since it apparently surfaced in 2015, users have recently been resharing it on social mediaespecially after a Democratic Candidate Joe Biden was projected as the President-Elect for the United States.

The Star’s fact-check desk established that the meme was first debunked by SNOPES in 2015, followed by other independent debunks.

‘i Just Want 11780 Votes’: Trump Pressed Georgia To Overturn Biden Victory

Trump asked secretary of state to recalculate vote in phone call

Martin PengellyRichard Luscombe

In an hour-long phone call on Saturday, Donald Trump pressed Georgia secretary of state Brad Raffensperger to “find” enough votes to overturn Joe Biden’s victory there in the election the president refuses to concede.

The Washington Post obtained a tape of the “extraordinary” conversation, which Trump acknowledged on Twitter.

Amid widespread outrage including calls for a second impeachment, Bob Bauer, a senior Biden adviser, said: “We now have irrefutable proof of a president pressuring and threatening an official of his own party to get him to rescind a state’s lawful, certified vote count and fabricate another in its place.”

The Post published the full call.

“The people of Georgia are angry, the people in the country are angry,” Trump said. “And there’s nothing wrong with saying, you know, um, that you’ve recalculated.”

Raffensperger is a Republican who has become a bête noire among Trump supporters for repeatedly saying Biden’s win in his state was fair. In one of a number of parries, he said: “Well, Mr President, the challenge that you have is, the data you have is wrong.”

Trump said: “So look. All I want to do is this. I just want to find 11,780 votes, which is one more than we have. Because we won the state.”

He insisted: “There’s no way I lost Georgia. There’s no way. We won by hundreds of thousands of votes.”

Dumb Son Of A Bitch: Trump Attacks Mcconnell In Republican Donors Speech

At Mar-a-Lago, former president also goes after Fauci and Chao … and claims party ‘can’t have these guys that like publicity’

Donald Trump devoted part of a speech to Republican donors on Saturday night to insulting the Senate minority leader, Mitch McConnell. According to multiple reports of the $400,000-a-ticket, closed-press event, the former president called the Kentucky senator “a dumb son of a bitch”.

Trump also said Mike Pence, his vice-president, should have had the “courage” to object to the certification of electoral college results at the US Capitol on 6 January. Trump claims his defeat by Joe Biden, by 306-232 in the electoral college and more than 7m votes, was the result of fraud. It was not and the lie was thrown out of court.

Earlier, the Associated Press reported that a Pentagon timeline of events on 6 January showed Pence demanding military leaders “clear the Capitol” of rioters sent by Trump.

But Trump did nothing and about six hours passed before the Capitol was cleared. Five people including a police officer died and some in the mob were recorded chanting “hang Mike Pence”. More than 400 face charges.

At his Mar-a-Lago resort on Saturday, amid a weekend of Republican events in Florida, some at Trump properties, the former president also mocked Dr Anthony Fauci.

I hired his wife. Did he ever say thank you?

Trump also said Covid-19 vaccines should be renamed “Trumpcines” in his honour.

Fact Check: Trump Did Not Call Republicans The Dumbest Group Of Voters

5 Min Read

An old quote falsely attributed to Donald Trump has recently resurfaced online. The viral meme alleges Trump told People magazine in 1998 that Republicans are “the dumbest group of voters in the country”. This is false.

While the quote has been debunked several times since it apparently surfaced in 2015, users have recently been resharing it on social media. Examples can be seen here , here , here , here

The meme reads: “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific. – Donald Trump, People Magazine, 1998”

Snopes first wrote about the false quote here in October 2015 . Since then, the quote has been debunked multiple times .

People magazine has confirmed in the past that its archive has no register of this alleged exchange.

“People looked into this exhaustively when it first surfaced back in Oct. . We combed through every Trump story in our archive. We couldn’t find anything remotely like this quote–and no interview at all in 1998.”, a magazine spokesperson told Factcheck.org that year .

In December 1987, People published a profile on Donald Trump titled “Too Darn Rich”. The article quoted him saying he was too busy to run for president .

Republicans Say Bidens Afghanistan Withdrawal Plan Is Dumber Than Dirt

President Biden’s pledge to withdraw U.S. forces from Afghanistan by Sept. 11 prompted immediate backlash Tuesday from leading congressional Republicans, who decried his plans as “outrageous,” “dumber than dirt” and “a disaster in the making.”

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“Precipitously withdrawing U.S. forces from Afghanistan is a grave mistake. It is a retreat in the face of an enemy,” Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell said on the Senate floor. “Foreign terrorists will not leave the United States alone simply because our politicians have grown tired of taking the fight to them.”

The GOP’s wholesale rejection of Biden’s planned withdrawal illustrates the political risk confronting the new administration as it seeks to bring the country’s longest war to a close — even as many Democrats greeted the news with relief.

“It took us 10 years to find and kill Osama bin Laden. We stayed an additional 10 years to help train Afghan security forces and create conditions for a more stable future in that country,” said Sen. Tim Kaine , a leading advocate for repealing the 2001 war authorization that permitted U.S. engagement in Afghanistan. “It is now time to bring our troops home.”

Biden will withdraw all U.S. forces from Afghanistan by Sept. 11, 2021

“It is insane to withdraw at this time given the conditions that exist on the ground in Afghanistan,” said Sen. Lindsey O. Graham , noting that he also thought Trump’s deadline was “very bad, ill-conceived policy.”

No Donald Trump Did Not Call Republican Voters Dumb In The 1990s

Donald Trump has made plenty of questionable claims over the years, but calling Republican voters dumb isn’t one of them.

Still, one political meme continues to spread across social media sites and claims he said just that.

The story goes that in a 1998 interview with People Magazine, Donald Trump said he was considering a run for president and would do so as a Republican because “They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

The post was flagged as part of Facebook’s efforts to combat false news and misinformation on its News Feed.

The meme features a repurposed image of a younger Trump, with the quote billed as a statement he delivered in an interview with the magazine.

So did Donald Trump actually say that – or anything like it?

No, the quote is bogus.

The fabricated quote appeared on social media sites inOctober 2015, when Trump’s campaign started to gain steam. The meme has continually resurfaced over the years, though it has repeatedlybeendebunked.

We searched People’s archives, which date back to the 1970s, and found no Trump interviews in 1998 – or any other time – that feature that quote or anything resembling it.

Most of the magazine’s articles at the time that involved Trump discussed his celebrity and high-profile divorce from Marla Maples.

Featured Fact-check

People also issued a statement rebuking the quote’s authenticity.

Trump Did Not Disparage Gop In 1998 People Magazine Interview

CLAIM: “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.” — Donald Trump in 1998 People magazine interview.

AP’S ASSESSMENT: False. The president did not make such a comment to People magazine.

THE FACTS: Singer and actress Bette Midler, who often speaks out against Trump, shared the false quote attributed to Trump on her Twitter account Sunday, with the comment that Trump “certainly knew his crowd.” Julie Farin, a People magazine spokeswoman, told The Associated Press that the magazine looked into the claim exhaustively when it first surfaced years ago but did not find anything remotely like it made by the president.

The image used with the false quote shows Trump during a 1988 appearance on “The Oprah Winfrey Show” where he discussed running for president, but made no reference to Republicans being “the dumbest group of voters.” The quote first began circulating in 2015 and has been widely shared across social media platforms, including Facebook. It has been widely debunked since that time.

Here’s more information on Facebook’s fact-checking program: https://www.facebook.com/help/1952307158131536

___

This is part of The Associated Press’ ongoing effort to fact-check misinformation that is shared widely online, including work with Facebook to identify and reduce the circulation of false stories on the platform.

Trump Gets Slap On The Wrist For Rant On ‘stupid’ Iowa Voters

‘Not good to insult Iowa voters,’ one Iowa Republican says, but the fallout is far from dramatic.

Donald Trump’s slam of Iowans as “stupid” would usually be a breathtaking gaffe for a presidential candidate, but the billionaire businessman has proved time and again that this isn’t any normal presidential race and that he isn’t any normal candidate.

Top Republicans and Republican operatives in the state on Friday disparaged Trump’s comments from his Thursday evening rally at Iowa Central Community College in which he questioned the intelligence of voters who believe rival Ben Carson’s claims of a violent past and subsequent redemption. “How stupid are the people of Iowa? How stupid are the people of the country to believe this crap?” Trump yelled.

“Not good to insult Iowa voters,” Doug Gross, the former chief of staff to Iowa Gov. Terry Branstad, told POLITICO on Friday.

Steve Grubbs, the chief Iowa strategist for rival Rand Paul, was happy to pounce on the comment. “Trump’s meltdown last night makes me worry what would happen in a stressful situation in the White House,” Grubbs said.

But many Iowa Republicans also don’t see lasting damage. They see the comments as unfortunate but not nearly enough to send Trump packing.

“I heard audible gasps from those I was sitting by, yet that had no effect in his standing in the caucuses. And I’m not trying to dodge or be cute, but we don’t know. We don’t know what impact this will have,”Strawn said.

Here Are The Top 10 Stupidest Things Trump Did As President

Salon

We’re tentatively starting to emerge from the four year-long national nightmare of Donald Trump’s presidency, but the reckoning of what the nation endured will take years to really understand. Trump was terrible in so many ways that it’s hard to catalog them all: His sociopathic lack of regard for others. His towering narcissism. His utter ease with lying. His cruelty and sadism. The glee he took in cheating and stomping on anything good and decent. His misogyny and racism. His love of encouraging violence, only equaled by his personal cowardice.

But of all the repulsive character traits in a man so wholly lacking in any redeemable qualities, perhaps the most perplexing to his opponents was Trump’s incredible stupidity. On one hand, it was maddening that a man so painfully dumb, a man who clearly could barely read — even on those rare occasions when he deigned to wear glasses — still had the low cunning necessary to take over the Republican Party and then the White House.

On the other hand, it was the one aspect of Trump’s personality that kept hope alive. Surely a man so stupid, his opponents believed, will one day blunder so badly he can’t be saved, even by his most powerful sycophants. That has proved to be the case as Trump fumbles his way through a failed coup, unable and unwilling to see that stealing the election from Joe Biden is a lost cause.

He then pointed at his head, and said, “I’m, like, a person who has a good you-know-what.”

Trumps 10 Most Hilariously Stupid Things He Said In 2019

Sarah K. Burris – Raw Story

President Donald Trump has a long history of saying some of the most bizarre things in politics. This year was one for the books as the president flailed, searching for excuses for his July 25 phone call with Ukraine President Volodymyr Zelensky.

Here are some of the most hilariously stupid things the president has said this year:

1. Windmills cause ear cancer

“If you have a windmill anywhere near your house, congratulations, your house just went down 75 percent in value,” Trump told Republicans in April. “And they say the noise causes cancer. You tell me that one.” He then made a whirring noise mimicking a turbine.

2. He wants to buy Greenland

“In meetings, at dinners and in passing conversations, Mr. Trump has asked advisers whether the U.S. can acquire Greenland, listened with interest when they discuss its abundant resources and geopolitical importance and, according to two of the people, has asked his White House counsel to look into the idea,” the Wall Street Journal reported in August.

“Denmark essentially owns it,” Trump told reporters in the days that followed. “We’re very good allies with Denmark. We protect Denmark like we protect large portions of the world. … Strategically it’s interesting.”

Trump then got into a fight with Danish leaders and had to cancel a trip he’d planned to the country.

3. Trump is the “chosen one.”

4. “Why don’t they go back and help fix the totally broken and crime-infested places from which they came.”

Fact Check: Did Trump Say In ’98 Republicans Are Dumb

Did Donald Trump tell People magazine in 1998 that if he ever ran for president, he’d do it as a Republican because “they’re the dumbest group of voters in the country” and that he “could lie and they’d still eat it up”?A: No, that’s a bogus meme.

FULL ANSWER

The meme purports to be a quote from Trump in People magazine in 1998 saying, “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

We were alerted to the meme by a reader, A. Douglas Thomas of Freeport, N.Y., among others, who saw it in his Facebook feed, along with a message from someone who said, “I just fact-checked this. Google Donald Trump, People magazine and 1998. This is an actual quote by Trump.”

We’ll save you the effort. It is not an actual quote by Trump.

We scoured the Peoplemagazine archives and found nothing like this quote in 1998 or any other year.

And a public relations representative with People told us that the magazine couldn’t find anything like that quote in its archives, either. People‘s Julie Farin said in an email: “Peoplelooked into this exhaustively when it first surfaced back in Oct. We combed through every Trump story in our archive. We couldn’t find anything remotely like this quote –and no interview at all in 1998.”

There were several stories in the late 1990s about Trump’s flirtation with a presidential run.

Trump Forced Republicans Into The Dumbest Corner

Joshua Holland

Republicans are stuck on the wrong side of public opinion on Covid-19, and that’s probably the biggest reason why they’ve struggled to make up any ground against their Democratic opponents. Back in March, I noticed a trend that was unusual in our polarized times: GOP voters were telling pollsters that they believed Donald Trump’s various claims about the origins of the pandemic and bought that the media and Democrats were exaggerating its danger, but when asked about how they themselves were responding to the outbreak, majorities made it clear that they took it very seriously. They were concerned about its impact on their families and communities, were taking precautions to avoid contracting the virus and supported most if not all public health measures to contain it.

And even as numerous prominent Republicans and White House staffers tested positive for the disease, the conservative media continued to relentlessly downplay the severity of this historic public health crisis and openly mock those who take it seriously. It’s hard to overstate how wide the divide between the movement and a significant majority of the public–voters Trump needs to win over–has become.

For a party that was once hailed for its messaging prowess, it is confounding. But it makes sense in context. Trump set the course for his party to navigate the pandemic months ago, and he simply does not have a plan B.

The Fake Donald Trump Quote That Just Wont Die

Brian Feldman

In October 2015, as Donald Trump was gaining steam in the Republican primary, a quote began circulating that, for any other GOP member, might have ended their campaign. In 1998, as the story goes, Trump told People, “If I were to run, I’d run as a Republican. They’re the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

The quote was too good to be true. Sites like Snopes and Politifact quickly debunked it as a lie, or more specifically, could not find a primary source. There is no record of Trump saying this quote in People, though he has more broadly expressed political ambitions for decades. Despite the quote’s repeated debunking, it has shown up across social media consistently throughout the campaign in an attempt to derail the Trump Train.

While all of the fact-checking has determined that the quote is most certainly fake, the origins of the fakery are shrouded in mystery.

Snopes obtained the quote via an image emailed to them, one of the type meant to go viral on Facebook, and they first wrote about it on October 16, 2015. The image they cite has a watermark from the popular liberal Facebook page the Other 98%, one of the largest of a new genre of publication that exists mainly on social media and is dedicated to preaching to the choir.

Similar comments appear on another version of the clip.

User ieathairpussy:

“They believe anything on Fox News. I could lie and they’d still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific.”

The only problem is, there’s no evidence of Trump having ever said it.

According to Snopes, a website that debunks urban legends and myths, the image began appearing around October 2015, about four months after Trump announced his candidacy for the presidency.

While the quote may seem plausible, there is no evidence that Trump even gave any interviews to People magazine in 1998, let alone uttered the now-viral phrase, and there is nothing in the magazine’s extensive online archive pointing to political profiles of the businessman.

The reference to Fox News is also suspect – while the network launched in 1996, its popularity only really took off during the 2000 presidential campaign when George W Bush was elected; in the aftermath of the September 11 terrorist attacks and during the 2002 US-led invasion of Iraq.

Trump did begin making noises about running for president in 1998, telling NBC’s Stone Phillips that he was ‘liberal on healthcare’, in favour of tax cuts and pro-choice when it came to abortion, saying: “I hate the concept of abortion. I hate anything about abortion and yet, I’m totally for choice. I think you have no alternative.”

He also told King that he was planning on forming a ‘presidential exploratory committee’, adding: “The polls came out and they said if I ran, I’d do very well.’

The Birth Of The Stupid Party

Republicans are handing their presidential nomination to a know-nothing billionaire bully, Donald Trump — the worst nominee in modern times. How did Republicans get to be so stupid?

Of course, “stupid” is subjective. But by most standards, Republicans fit the bill. In September, Public Policy Polling found that “66% of Trump’s supporters believe that Obama is a Muslim… 61% think Obama was not born in the United States.” The same poll found that 54 percent of all Republicans believed the President to be a Muslim.

In 2013, Louisiana Republican Governor Bobby Jindal warned the GOP to “stop being the stupid party.” Jindal said Republican candidates should “stop insulting the intelligence of voters… with offensive and bizarre statements.” However, Jindal didn’t listen to his own advice; on May 10th, Jindal endorsed Donald Trump. Stupid is as stupid does.

It wasn’t always like this. Fifty years ago, Republicans seemed wrongheaded but intelligent. What has happened to the Grand Old Party? Its transition to the stupid party had four stages:

In September, writing in the Daily Beast Ana Marie Cox observed, “Trump and Carson are winning a huge slice of the GOP base because of prideful ignorance, which to voters signifies not just a rejection of the establishment or elites but a release from the hard work of having to think.”

2. Republicans accepted racism. When the GOP adopted the southern strategy, they tacitly accepted racism. With Trump this racism has come out in the open.

Did They Really Say That

Thread > Trump trying to steal election” alt=”MyYESNetwork.com > Thread > Trump trying to steal election”>

It was Abraham Lincoln’s 208th birthday last weekend. The US Republican Party’s social media feeds honoured the 16th president by sharing a picture of his iconic memorial in Washington DC, with an inspiring quote laid over the top.

“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that counts, it’s the life in your years,” was the message on Twitter and Instagram, also shared by President Trump.

There was just one problem: the words have been attributed to Lincoln many times over the years, but there is no evidence he ever said them. The post has since been deleted.

It was the latest example of a growing modern phenomenon, the fake political quote.

Some have said “fake news” could have swung the outcome of November’s US presidential election. Bogus stories like “Pope Francis Shocks World, Endorses Donald Trump for President” were extensively shared online.

Made up quotes are perhaps more benign than fictitious news stories with a clear political agenda. But they still raise concerns, says James Ball of Buzzfeed News, who is writing a book about “post-truth” politics.

“If enough people share and believe these fake quotes, then they can contribute to the polarisation of politics, making each side think less of the other, especially as many partisans think fake news is a problem which affects primarily their opponents.”

These fake quotes don’t just come from right-wing politicians and activists.

It seemed too obnoxious to be true – and it was.

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emmaswanchoosesyou · 6 years

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CSBB: Part of the Narrative (16/17)

Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that’s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.

Rated E. Includes sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, mild violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.

Chapter warnings: There’s processing of neglectful parenting and a whole lot of fluff.

I can’t believe it, but this is the last real chapter! Next week is the epilogue, which I hope you’ll all enjoy. (Also, I forgot today was Monday and am thus very late with posting, oops.) Thank you so much to all of you who have been reading and commenting and waiting patiently…I just love you all a lot, okay? And of course, thanks to all of you who helped me get here. Thank you to all the wonderful ladies at @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first, sixth, and fifteenth chapters, which you can check out here and here and here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better. Just...she’s the greatest.

[Ch. 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

Chapter 16

Henry is found, and that leaves Emma and Killian to come up with some definitions, resolutions, and conclusions.

Killian

Killian watched as Emma all but ran out of the car before it stopped. There was Henry, wrapped in a blanket, and Emma flew toward him and pulled him into her arms. Henry seemed to be fine. He had a couple of scrapes and bruises, but otherwise seemed okay. And as he watched their reunion, Killian would have been lying if he tried to pretend his eyes were dry watching the woman he loved embrace her son.

He loved Emma Swan. Realistically, he had for a while. This wasn't even a new realization, but it was one he was now ready to accept. There was even a chance she might feel the same.

It had been some time since he had heard Milah’s voice in his subconscious, but he thought she would approve. They’d probably have liked each other, Emma and Milah, had they been given the opportunity to meet. Killian knew Milah would have wanted him to move on, and Emma...well, Emma was everything.

Shaking his head, he came back to the present. Emma and Henry were snuggled up, sitting on the trunk of the police cruiser. Regina stood nearby, running her fingers through his hair. Killian looked over at Robin, who was standing next to Detective Jameson, and smiled. Both returned his smile, enjoying the victory of this happy ending.

Robin's phone rang and he slumped with relief. "Thank you, Mulan. I'll let them know," he said after a moment. Turning back toward the group, Robin smiled again.

They all stared back at him.

"We have news. It seems that August has turned himself in, according to Mulan--er, Detective Fa."

"Oh my god, really?" Emma asked. Killian grabbed her hand, waiting for Robin to elaborate.

"Yes. Well, not turned himself in exactly, but he made himself easy to find, and he's very willing to cooperate with police. He also indicated that Cora Mills is indeed involved."

"Hold on," said Sheriff Jameson. He went over to the squad car and had a quick conversation with one of his deputies on the walkie talkie. He came back looking satisfied. "We have someone on their way to pick up Cora right now. Unless she's done a bunk, she should be easy enough to find."

Regina let out a sigh and put an arm around Henry. "Well, let's hope she's not making herself scarce. I hate to admit it, but she has enough contacts that she could be difficult to find if that's what she wants."

The crackle of the walkie talkie sounded, and David stepped away again. He came back, a stunned look on his face. "Seems like she's actually turned herself in. Says she's willing to cooperate completely, on the condition that she talk to Regina first. We have enough to bring her in either way. So, honestly? It's up to you, Regina."

She looked indecisive, exchanging a look with Robin before glancing down at Henry. Then she seemed to steel herself and nodded. "Okay. Yes, I'll go with you. Whatever it takes to get her for what she's done."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Killian was surprised to hear himself asking the question, and he clearly wasn't the only one, judging by the looks on the faces of some of the others.

After a beat, Regina nodded gratefully. "Yes, I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Emma squeezed his hand, and they all prepared themselves to head to the station.

&&&

The station was smaller than the BPD office Robin worked from, though Killian really should have expected that. This part of Maine wasn't exactly over-populated.

They walked in and spoke briefly, before agreeing that Robin, Regina, and Sheriff Jameson would all speak to Cora while Emma, Henry, and he waited in one of the back offices. They didn't want to seem confrontational, but they didn't want to leave Regina alone with her mother, especially if she was party to kidnapping and murder.

While they waited, Killian made a call to one of the few local eateries that delivered and arranged for a pizza for all of them. It took about forty-five minutes to arrive, and the rest of their party emerged around fifteen minutes after that. Killian, Emma, and Henry were all crowded around the table eating their pizza, though Killian had left his prosthetic hand resting at the small of Emma's back. Emma was still hugging Henry, and frankly, he was amazed that any of them were able to eat with all the affection going around. He would have scoffed had he not been so relieved.

When Regina emerged, sandwiched between Robin and David, she looked exhausted. One side of her mouth quirked up in a smile as she watched Henry eat, and Killian bit back a comment when he saw Robin place a lingering hand on Regina's arm as he whispered quietly with her. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but that was an interesting development.

After a couple more minutes, Regina made her way over to them. "Well, she confessed to...pretty much everything."

He and Emma leaned forward for the tale while the others took their seats around the table. Killian gestured to the pizza and told them all to grab a slice or two.

David sighed. "She really did. She copped to everything but the murder charges, but even there--I could see her being charged with accessory or conspiracy."

"And apparently August was terrified enough at what she'd say that he confessed literally everything else, most of which lines up with Cora's tale," Robin said.

"So...what happened? And why?" Emma asked.

"Apparently it was...me," Regina said, hesitating. "That is, my mother claims she did all of this for me. To make my life better, to get closer to me."

Henry looked up at her. "She kidnapped me for you?"

Regina put down her slice of pizza, knelt on the floor in front of Henry and took both of his hands in hers. "I pointed out how absolutely insane that was. As in, that would be the last thing I'd ever want to happen. But according to her, she missed being a part of my life, and she used that to justify...well, everything. She worked with August starting a while ago, so she's had an eye into Mills & Booth almost since the beginning.” Regina frowned. “And when I still wasn't receptive to her overtures, she started spying on me and trying to find other avenues into my life."

"Yikes," Emma said, letting out a breath. Killian silently agreed.

"She decided if there wasn't a way to get to me through business, she'd have to look closer to home. Somehow, she found out you gave birth to Henry," she continued, meeting Emma's eyes, "and she was thus responsible for making sure August brought you on, and then kept tabs on you. At least, she arranged it, even though it was apparently August's idea to use Killian to that end."

He cringed at the mention of his perfidy, but Emma reached for him. Henry raised an eyebrow, and he knew they would have to explain the tale in more depth late, but that would be a discussion to have with Emma--and probably Regina--later. Once things settled down a little.

Regina took a deep breath. "When it was clear that Emma wasn't going to try to come between me and Henry, she decided to intervene. She thought that if she drove a wedge between you and me," she said to Henry, "that I would turn to her, that I'd confide in her, ask her for advice. She even arranged for Henry to find a PI that was in her pocket and reporting to her. Since that wasn't happening, she used what she'd learned from August’s spying on Emma to--well, she came up with the kidnapping plot based on what you were writing, Emma. She was trying to frame you, or at least play us against each other."

"And it almost worked," Emma whispered and then let out a deep breath.

Swallowing, Regina agreed with a nod. "Almost. But they didn't count on Cleo. August realized Cleo was onto them, and he knew she could get them in a world of trouble. But Mother said she didn't realize Cleo was dead until the news hit the papers."

Killian cleared his throat. "So...she arranged the kidnapping? How? And to what end, if that's an appropriate question in, er, present company?" he asked, glancing at Henry quickly, his brow furrowed with concern.

Regina snorted. "Clearly, she couldn't do it herself. While she hasn't been part of my life or Henry's, he does know what she looks like. And Henry knew August. So apparently she blackmailed Mr. Jefferson, who owed her, and he took Henry and kept him at the house." Taking a breath, she continued. "I'm not sure what her endgame was in regards to Henry, but that's something the judges will be able to use against her. And obviously Sheriff Jameson has Mr. Jefferson in possession, but we're not sure how much he was involved at this point. In some ways, he was a victim as well. Apparently, my mother was influencing his custody agreement with his ex over his daughter. And I...can't fault him for wanting to hold onto his daughter," she said shakily.

Killian whistled, and Emma whispered, "Wow."

"Tell them about August," David said quietly, directing his command toward Robin, who nodded.

"As I mentioned earlier, August Booth seems to have confessed to everything. He's pretty willing to talk in exchange for leniency, and he said he'll tell us everything he has on Cora. He seems to think she's a bigger fish than he is. And we are finding that she seems to be involved in a lot of unsavory activities," Robin said.

They all sat quietly for a few minutes, absorbing all of the information. It was still sinking in, but Killian could see how knackered everyone at the table looked.

Finally, Henry broke the silence. "Is it over then? Are we safe?"

He could see the heartbreak in both Emma's and Regina's eyes as they exchanged a look, but Regina smiled at Henry as her eyes filled with tears, and she hoarsely told him, "I think so, baby."

&&&

After the emotional end to their search for Henry, all of them headed back to Boston to recover and rest. Regina and Henry had no interest in being at their home in Storybrooke, so they stayed at the apartment Regina kept in Boston. The first night back, Emma stayed with them, so Killian headed home for the first time in what felt like years, even if it had only been a few days.

The next day, Emma called Killian and asked him to come over, and to bring an overnight bag. He agreed without hesitation.

"I just...I'm glad Henry and Regina are here, but I don't particularly want to crash on their couch again tonight. We--Regina and I--want things to get back to normal for Henry as soon as they can," Emma said.

Killian laughed into the phone, not particularly amused, but always glad to hear from her. "And where do I come in?"

He could almost hear her smile through the phone. "Well, for starters, I thought of a really great ending for my book, and I guess I should talk to my editor about it, if he's game."

"Oh, he is," he purred into the phone. "For that and essentially anything else you'd ask, Swan."

She giggled. "Well, that's good, because I...I don't really want to sleep alone tonight. So I'm hoping he'll come join me."

Killian was on his feet and throwing things into a bag before he even responded. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He arrived a couple hours later. It was still early afternoon, but he stopped for takeout anyway. Even if they weren't hungry now, they could microwave their food later. As soon as he knocked at her door, Emma opened it and threw herself into Killian's arms.

He breathed in her clean scent as he hugged her, dropping his bag just inside the door. She stepped away from him after a moment and pulled him inside, glancing up at him sheepishly. "Sorry for the ambush. Is it corny to say that I missed you?"

Killian smiled, and knew he was a lucky, lucky man. "Aye, but it's probably cornier for me to say that I've missed you from the moment we parted ways. Please ambush me anytime, love."

"I really do have work things I want to talk about, but I figured we could take a few days and just relax," Emma said, half apologetically.

"What does the boss lady say about that?" he asked jokingly. "I hear she's a bit of a hard-ass."

Emma snorted. "She is, but I think she needs a vacation as much as the rest of us. So we--everyone at Mills & Booth--are officially free until after Cleo's funeral."

He sobered at that. "When is it?"

"On Saturday. You'll come, right?"

"Of course," he said. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Emma hesitated and wrapped a hand around his arm. "Just...stay with me? I wasn't kidding about not wanting to be alone."

"I meant what I said,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to her temple, “about being here for you, however you need."

"Good. Because I do, you know. Need you that is," she said, stumbling over her words, a blush rising over her cheeks.

Killian's heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would make its way out of his chest. "Is that right?"

She paused and looked up at him before dropping her hand to his and pulling him toward the couch. "Yeah. I said we would talk when this was over, when we found Henry, and I--well, I'm all in. If you are."

He brushed a soft kiss over her lips as he pulled her into his lap. "You should know, Emma, that I'm in this for the long haul."

After that, it was a long time until either of them spoke again, instead letting their bodies communicate their passion and their desires.

&&&

On Friday morning, they were sitting in bed not wearing a stitch, but finally rested. Emma lay in his arms, and Killian smiled at her. The sheen of sweat covering them was beginning to cool them, and he pulled the coverlet over them.

One of Emma’s hands was curled at the base of his skull, her fingers running through his hair, sweaty as it was. “Oh! I just remembered. I know we’ve been pretty distracted the last couple of days, but I meant to tell you about the ending I worked out for the book.”

“Do tell, love,” he said, skimming his knuckles over her bare arm.

She shivered, and pressed herself more closely to him. “I think...that Jacob and his adoptive mother live happily ever after, even if his other mom--the social worker--gets to spend a lot of time with him and be part of his life too.”

He hummed, considering. “That sounds refreshing, and...definitely like a good thing, if it can be managed. It seems like it could be, too.” He paused and drew a circle on the skin at her elbow. “And what about the social worker’s love interest?”

“Well, I think she’s definitely fallen for him,” Emma said, not meeting his eyes, but smiling and running a hand through his chest hair. “She might not be ready to admit how much she cares yet, but she probably loves him.”

“And I can tell he loves her. From the way you’ve written him, obviously,” he said, grinning at her.

She looked up and kissed him, a mere peck on the lips, but infused with affection. “So you think they can all work something out? The social worker, the mom, and Jacob? And the sexy love interest?”

“Sexy, hmm?” Killian murmured. “I think so. Both narratively and in the more, uh, meta sense we seem to be alluding to.”

“Good,” said Emma, pulling him on top of her.

&&&

Monday dawned clear and cold. Killian finally felt rested, and he was glad to be heading back to work.

He’d spent most of the weekend at Emma’s, spending time with her as well as with Henry and Regina when they were around. There had even been an outing the previous day to Granny’s, where his and Emma’s friends all finally had a chance to mingle. (And he’d never admit it out loud, but seeing Regina’s reaction to a greasy Boston diner? Priceless.)

The funeral had been Saturday. Even though he had just started to get to know Cleo and had never met her family, it was a wrenching, emotional service. Her husband and son appeared so undone and adrift, and he wondered what would become of them. Emma knew them better than most of the people there from Mills & Booth, and mentioned she wanted to make sure they stayed abreast of their goings-on.

That night and the previous, they had stayed at his apartment, whereas the rest of the time, last night included, they slept at Emma's. It was strange--in the best way--to be waking up beside her and getting ready to head into work with her. She didn't have to be in as early as he did, but Regina wanted to meet with her later, after she met with Killian.

So they took a cab, hoping it would be warm enough to walk back later. He looked away from the window, glancing at Emma out of the corner of his eye. He smiled when he saw their intertwined fingers. As awful as some parts of the preceding week had been, Killian felt they had laid a good foundation for their fledgling relationship.

When they walked into the lobby, Killian was relieved to see it seemed to have been restored to some semblance of normalcy. Ariel looked more like herself, if still a little subdued. He and Emma parted ways in the hall. She headed back down to the lobby so she could grab some coffee, and he headed to Regina’s office.

Her door was cracked, but he knocked to give her a head’s up. Making his way in, he took the seat she gestured to across the desk from her. “Regina, how’s it going this morning?”

She smiled back at him. “It’s going well. Henry is enjoying the break from school, and the nightmares haven’t been as bad.”

“That’s excellent. Oh, I’m supposed to tell you--Emma is bringing coffee, so if you want something other than your usual almond milk latte, let me know so I can text her,” he said.

“Thank you.” she said with a nod. “How are you?” She looked at him with curiosity and something he couldn’t quite decipher in her eyes.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m well. And well-rested, fortunately.”

There was a slightly awkward lull in the conversation, but after a few moments Regina cleared her throat. “That’s good. I--well, this isn’t why I asked you to the meeting, but have you heard anything from Robin lately? He asked me on a date, but hasn’t told me what we’re doing.”

“Ah, I see how it is.” He smirked and drummed his fingers against his chin. “Trying to pump me for information on my mate’s plans and see if he’s mentioned you, are you? Did you say yes?”

“I did,” she said. “With him having Roland, he just gets things from my life that most people don’t seem to. And...he smells like forest, even when we’re nowhere near the woods.”

Killian shifted in his seat. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with these emotional confidences from Regina, but he couldn’t deny he was happy that she and his friend seemed to have connected. He smiled a trifle awkwardly, but nodded in understanding. Nonetheless, he wished Emma were here so that she could reply in a more suitable fashion.

Regina seemed to sense his discomfort, and nodded brusquely. “Anyway, the reason I asked you here was two-fold. For starters, with my mother and August in custody, your immigration problems seem to have magically disappeared.” She shook her head. “Shocking, I know.”

“Imagine that,” he drawled, sarcasm dripping in every syllable.

“Yes, all of a sudden, Immigration seems to have magically ‘found’ your paperwork.”

Killian snorted. “Bureaucracy, truly there for us in our time of need.”

Regina laughed and continued, “With that out of the way, we don’t have to pay you as a contractor anymore.”

“My taxes are going to be a nightmare,” he bemoaned.

“Probably. Especially if you take my offer, which I’m hoping you will.” She tapped on her desk, a level stare directed at him.

He met her eyes. “What’s the offer?”

“I want you to take Cleo’s job as Senior Editor.”

He sat there, stunned. He was qualified, but he hadn’t been there long, and…

Regina seemed to pick up on his surprise and uncertainty. “I know you haven’t been here long, but I’m confident you can do it. And I trust you the way I trusted Cleo. I know you’ll have Mills & Booth’s best interests at heart.”

“Wow. Um, so it’s still Mills & Booth?” he asked, trying to take a few moments to consider his answer.

She sighed. “Yes, I think so. Unless I can find a way to retain brand recognition, the name stays. But...I’m thinking about making an addition to it.”

“Oh?”

“I love my company, I really do. But I don’t want the entire thing resting on my shoulders, and August did alleviate some of that. He ended up forfeiting his half when he confessed, though. So I’m also going to offer you enough shares of Mills & Booth that you’d be part owner, if you want it.”

Now Killian was speechless.

“It would be about 30%, and we could re-evaluate after a year or so. But I know from your background check that you have the assets, and I think you could do it. You’re certainly more qualified than August, and I like you a whole hell of a lot better,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said, “I might need some time to consider it, but I can have an answer for you soon.”

Regina smiled. “Good. Talk to Emma about it. Especially because with how those changes will affect your working relationship with her,” she paused. “And speaking of the devil…”

Emma came through the cracked door bearing a tray of coffee and a bag of pastries. “The devil brings treats, so respect her.”

Killian laughed and stood to help, while Regina rolled her eyes and cleared a spot on her desk for the pastries. As soon as they all got settled in, Emma in the chair beside him, they began again.

“I made him the offer I told you about,” Regina told Emma.

She smiled. “Good. What did he say?”

“Excuse me, I’m still in the room,” he said, putting on an aggrieved air, but completely ruining it by winking at Emma. “I said I’d think about it. I’m leaning toward yes, depending on those changes in regards to my work with Emma.”

Regina nodded. “Indeed. I’m happy with what I know of your book, Emma, and how you two have worked together. But...I want Killian to step into a role with more responsibility, which might mean he wouldn’t have the time for as much hands-on editing.”

“That makes sense,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m not thrilled about it, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have any input.”

“Exactly, and you made it clear you can work together, even when your, er, personal involvement wasn’t...ideal. So I can’t help but think this would only be a good thing for your relationship.”

“What do you mean?” Killian interrupted. “And I wouldn’t be able to edit Emma’s work?”

“I think Emma should have an agent, for starters.” She turned her attention back to Emma. “You didn’t have one to begin with, and August kind of acted as one for you. Then Graham and now Killian have both been champions of your work. But you should have someone dedicated to that, and whom you are paying. Someone whose loyalties are never in question.”

“Well, Regina, it does help that Killian isn’t spying on me anymore,” Emma teased.

He gave her a quelling--but affectionate--look. “But I am 100% team Emma.”

“Yes, in a personal sense,” Regina said, “but you’re also focused on making her work better, while trying to do your other work, too. Besides, if you accept my offer, your loyalties to Mills & Booth might occasionally conflict with acting on Emma’s behalf. Not that I foresee any confrontations,” she raised her hands to placate him, seeing him on the verge of interrupting with objections, “but it could come up.”

Emma sat there thoughtfully before speaking. “I think you’re right, Regina. I...I really should have an agent. And I’d be happy to continue to work with Killian, but it...it might be nice not to have work and personal stuff so mixed up.”

“And, look, Emma. I believe in you. I--I know you’ve been worried about things since you found out that August brought you on at my mother’s behest, because you’re Henry’s mother too. But you’re good at what you do. The numbers speak for themselves--you’re a fantastic writer. I’d be an idiot not to want to work with you, even if we didn’t have other ties,” Regina said bluntly, her characteristic honesty kind instead of cutting this time.

Killian looked over at Emma and saw the relief and joy, shining from her, and he made up his mind. “I’ll do it. I still want to work with Emma as much as possible, but I’ll take the position.”

“Excellent,” Regina said with a smile, and he and Emma echoed it.

&&&

Later that day, after more meetings for both of them, Killian and Emma finally headed back to her apartment. As they walked down the street, she caught him up on the conversation she had had later with Regina about Henry, and how she could be more involved with his life.

“He’ll spend one weekend a month with me during the school year. Summers he’ll be able to stay for a week or two at a time, but we’re going to play that by ear,” Emma said with a bounce to her step.

Killian smiled down at her, swinging her arm with his. She looked so happy, between the news about Henry and the cold air nipping at her cheeks. “What about the holidays, love? Will you be able to see him then?”

Emma looked thoughtful. “You know, it’s weird. For most of my life, I wanted to find my parents. Or have them find me. But for the first time ever, not having them is a good thing, because there’s nothing stopping us from all getting together on the holidays. Regina doesn’t really have anyone either, so...we talked about just doing holidays together.”

“A found family,” Killian mused.

She smiled up at him. “Yeah. You would be welcome too, if you want.”

“Is there room for me? In this found family?” He knew she was inviting him to more than a holiday dinner, but he wanted the clarification, wanted to hear the words.

“Always,” she said, squeezing his hand.

He beamed down at her, and she returned his smile radiantly. Tucking her arm through his, Killian looked forward--to their path, a home, a future, and Emma.

He couldn’t wait.

#cs ff #csbb #captain swan #cs au #cs mc ff #cs crew #cs mafia #captain swan fanfic #part of the narrative #amber writes #i can't believe this is almost over!#(or is it)

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yoonia · 7 years

Text

Nocturne | 01

Character: Jungkook x OC (feat. BTS)

Type/Genre/words: Angst, Alternate Universe (Hitman!au, Assassin!au), Smut/Mature Scenes | 8,862 words

Prompts: “What would you find when you keep chasing over the ghosts of your past?”

Summary: It took only one night, one event, for the fate of two children to change. And it took another night, and another event, for Jungkook to finally met her.

Warning: mentions of violence, mentions of usage of guns and weapons, smoking and alcohol mentions, language, includes a little bit of girl x girl scene, graphic smut, mentions of cum play

Chapters: Prologue | 01 |

| Music Playlist | Characters |

a/n: Once you’ve read this chapter some of you might understand why I waited a whole damn year to publish this series after posting its preview - yes - one year ago, and then waited another month to finish doing its research. There is an event added to the plot that is written based on a real life event, but every character and the story that happens are full fiction and not written bluntly from it. I haven’t decided if I should share which event that is here in the post because of many reasons. Perhaps I will tell you about it one day― unless you can guess what it is^^ Enjoy :)

Jungkook can still feel his hand shaking as he reaches his apartment. He watches his fingers trembling in front of him as he is about to turn the keys. The sound of his rapid heartbeat fills his head, numbing his senses until the sound of the lock being turned seems so far away. Closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath, Jungkook tries his best to focus on calming his body to lax. The job he was sent to do tonight was not his first, but this is the first time anything he came encountered with have ever affected him so much. For some reason, he still can't shake off the feeling that still lingers in his body, the cold chill he felt when the masked figure returned his gaze with their eyes piercing through his lens.

It was impossible to be done, he knows that for sure. And he was supposed to be invisible. The question lingers in his head as he made his way home, wondering how they were able to see him through the dark and within that distance—if that person really did see him at all. It is that one initial thought that has been bothering him, and the other question that has him wondering how he is now able to stand in front of his apartment’s door—

Why did they let me go?

It takes him a few long seconds until the troubling thoughts disappear from his mind, until then he opens his eyes only when everything around him becomes numb. As the pounding in his chest slowly starts easing up, he turns the knob and pushes the door open, only to halt his steps at the entrance. He looks around with knitted eyebrows, completely disoriented when he is welcomed with brightness instead of coming home to find his apartment dark and empty as the way he had expected it to be.

For a minute he instantly becomes alerted, his hand already reaching out to the side of his backpack, ready to retrieve his defence. Flashes of what he had just witnessed earlier that night come back in his head and flashes of any possible scenarios allow the frightening chill to come running down his spine once again. Until he breathes in scents of food wafting in the air, which soon becomes his answer.

He releases a sigh, letting the tension in his body slowly fading, albeit his mind is still in a complete alert. Slowly entering the apartment, he starts calling out—

"Jimin, are you home?"

"Yeah," an answer comes from the kitchen, allowing Jungkook to finally loosen up and breathe out a sigh of relief. As he puts his hands down, Jungkook soon walks over to the source of his voice and finds his roommate there, grinning wide to welcome him home while stirring the boiling food in front of him. "Hey, you're home late. Got another overtime?"

Jungkook relaxes completely the moment his eyes land on his roommate, his heartbeat steadies as he savours the warmth coming from both the kitchen and the presence of another person around him, as he finally feels the sense of safety. "Uh— Yeah, I did. What—” he looks over to the contents of the pan, "What are you doing home? Why aren't you working?"

Jimin gives the younger man a smile as he answers, "I did go to work, but the pub's owner told everyone to close up early so he could use the place tonight,” he grins at Jungkook with a shrug. “The business owners are having a private meeting there with exclusive guests. They only needed one bartender to tend the guests, so I was sent home because apparently, the senior bartenders are more trustworthy of keeping secrets,” he chuckles and mutters, “Whatever they meant by it."

He turns back to focus on his cooking as the noise of the food boiling calls for his attention, "I got home to an empty apartment, so I figured I'd better cook this time while I'm free. You skipped dinner, didn't you?"

Jungkook gives out a faint smile, "I ate some hot dogs earlier—”

The older man shakes his head, "No, no, nu-uh— Good thing I'm making beef stew. Now go wash up first, the food will be ready when you're done."

"Okay," Jungkook pushes himself off the counter where he's been leaning on and starts walking away. He stops midway to speak, "You don't have to cook for me, you know. This is your first night when you are finally free from work, you could've just used it to rest, or have fun—or go on a date or something."

His roommate gave him a sarcastic laugh without looking over, "Someone needs to take care of you, kid. Now, go!"

Jungkook takes his time to wash up, deciding that keeping his head under running hot water for a few minutes longer might help calm him and refresh his mind a bit more. Jimin is already waiting for him at the dining table once Jungkook is done, the food is already set on the dining table in front of him, his eyes locked on the cell phone which he has in his hands while he waits for Jungkook to return.

Jimin still has his eyes on the device when Jungkook takes a seat across the table, only looking up at the younger man to watch him shaking his head as a way to push his wet hair away from his face. "That's much better. And now we eat," Jimin says with a smile while putting his phone aside.

The dinner starts in silence, the only noises filling the air comes from them clashing tablewares against plates as they both enjoy their meal, and the only words being exchanged between them at first are merely comments on the food. As silence occupies the rest of the dinner, Jimin raises his head, turning to take a sight of his roommate for the umpteenth time while the other seems to be lost in his own world; his eyes looking at his food as he eats absentmindedly.

"Is everything okay?" Jimin finally asks him, breaking the silence when the frown on the younger man's face becomes more apparent with each passing time. "It's been a long night for you, isn't it? Trouble at work?"

No direct reaction comes from Jungkook until a few seconds later when he blinks his eyes, only answering with a soft nod. "Yeah, just— so many things to work on," he stops to clear his throat and begins to share about his work―the one he does at the office, nothing from the one he did aside of his working hours. “—and since no one else was around the moment the confirmation of the news came in, I had to stay longer to edit the article and pick out pictures before we could publish the news online and prepare for the morning prints.”

Jimin nods his head while savouring the rest of the food on his plate. “Your company should be hiring more people. You joined them as a field journalist, not an editor,” he comments with a straight face, while Jungkook only gives him a small smile. “Yeah, well—not that many people are interested in working for printed media anymore,” he answers with a sigh, feeling a bit thankful for the light conversations he always has with his roommate, something he cherishes as one of the things in life that keeps him grounded despite his double life.

This has been their daily routine between their hectic lives. Jungkook works as a journalist on daytime, while Jimin works at night at the pub. They barely meet each other unless they cross path in between their working hours. So sitting on dinner table like tonight is such a rare event for the roommates, yet this is always the one-moment Jungkook always expects to have once in a while.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Someone left a package for you earlier," Jimin rises from his seat, grabbing a thick brown envelope over the kitchen counter and slides it over the table as he comes back to his seat. "The detective you've been meeting a lot lately, what's his name? He came right when I was about to head out to the pub, and asked me to give this to you."

"Namjoon?" Jungkook stares at Jimin before glancing at the package and reaching forward. "What is it—”

"Nu-uh," Jimin places his palm over the envelope to stop his friend from taking it. "Finish your food first. You told me to rest earlier, there's no way I'm letting you go straight to work."

Jungkook scoffs, "Alright, Dad," chuckling to himself before finishing his food.

"Are you still helping that detective?" Jimin keeps his eyes on his mate, clasping his hands over the table as he asks curiously. "What is it that you do for him, exactly?"

Jungkook rushes to clean his plate, hitting his chest a couple of times when he almost chokes on his food. He takes a few big gulps of water and sighs before answering, "We've only been exchanging some random information, nothing much," he says, clearing his throat while grabbing the envelope. He leaves his seat, placing the plate on the sink before walking away. "Okay, I should go and head to work in my room."

"Jungkook—” Jimin calls him out, stopping him when he's just about to reach his bedroom.

"Yeah?"

The older housemate is now staring at Jungkook with a dark and curious gaze in his eyes. His face never changing his expression when he speaks, "Don't get yourself hurt."

Jungkook gives him a pursed smile. "I won't, I promise."

They exchange the same knowing look in their eyes, the look they both recognise from one another after knowing each other since they were much younger. The same look they gave each other when young Jungkook came rushing for his help 15 years ago. And it is only when Jimin gives him a soft nod when Jungkook turns and continues to walk over to his room, mumbling under his breath,

"I'm going to make sure you won’t get hurt either."

Jungkook is sitting at his desk a few hours after midnight, his computer screen and the desk lamp being the only lights illuminating his dark room. The contents of the brown envelope are now left in a messy pile on his desk, some had been marked by highlights and scribbles made in red ink. But his eyes are locked on the screen, staring at the window of the messenger as messages keep coming in before his own fingers start typing on the keyboards.

BlackCrow: target was supposed to be secured

BlackCrow: there was no directive to have him killed

Waterhouse: so it wasn't any one of you guys?

BlackCrow: we don't kill

BlackCrow: we search for information

BlackCrow: how much info have you managed to get?

Waterhouse: the only ones my lenses could catch

Waterhouse: had no chance of getting closer

Waterhouse: only saw faces

Waterhouse: there was nothing left behind after cleanup

BlackCrow: we'll identify them

BlackCrow: any familiars

BlackCrow: ?

Waterhouse: _

Waterhouse: negative

BlackCrow: _

BlackCrow: we have detected more puzzles

Waterhouse: how wide is the spread

BlackCrow: not the usual

Waterhouse: _

Waterhouse: have you solved it?

BlackCrow: too easy to be theirs

BlackCrow: _

Waterhouse: send me in

BlackCrow: _

BlackCrow: too risky

Waterhouse: I can get more information

Waterhouse: no one knows who I am except for you

BlackCrow: _

BlackCrow: we’ll consider

BlackCrow: send all files to us

BlackCrow: by tonight

BlackCrow: we'll have you posted for further directives

Waterhouse: _

Waterhouse: understood

Jungkook waits to make sure that there are no more messages coming in before he closes the chat. He reaches down into his backpack to retrieve his camera, slipping its memory card into his USB device to transfer every file, every picture he had taken previously into his computer.

As each of the images appears on the screen, he recalls the event inside his head. It is as if he is taken back to that old abandoned building again, focusing through his lens and holding his forefinger from twitching as he pressed the shutter button. He can faintly hear the arguments, the yelling, and the gunshots inside his head once again, and he notices how his fingers are trembling as they hover on the keyboard.

Taking a deep breath, he starts to collect himself and focus on sorting out each picture into different folders, making sure that he would be sending the ones informative enough to the people who had sent him to the previous location. He stops the minute the last picture appears on his screen, the ones he had taken of the masked intruder—of which he still couldn't figure out on whether they were there as an assassin or a special guard—that had caught his sight.

He feels his heart beating rapidly as he recalls the moment in his mind, back to the time they stopped in their tracks and turned, until their eyes are set straight into his lens. He was so sure that he was done for. His heart skips a beat when he remembers the fear that he felt at that moment, how he couldn't let go of his camera even as his mind tried to plan out different scenarios—from how to retrieve the firearm he had prepared inside his bag as a way to protect himself, despite how much he knew the distance would hinder his shots to reach the target, to making an escape plan—neither of which he ever had a chance to finally do.

He remembers now how he had frozen on his spot instead. But he does not remember that he had managed to keep pressing the shutter button when it happened. He keeps clicking his mouse to see more and more pictures of the figure being displayed on his screen, stopping at the last picture which for some reason seems a bit different than others.

Moving his mouse to zoom in, he is finally able to see them more clearly. He is now able to identify the intruder as a female now that he is able to look into them more thoroughly, to scan his eyes on her covered figure. Zooming in on the picture, that is not the only thing that he can finally see. His eyes are focused on her face as he keeps skipping through the next picture in line, stopping at the last one he had taken before he slipped away from that hidden edge of the building.

He is now seeing how the glint in her eyes looks much different compared to her gaze in the other pictures, and as he focuses on how the light falls over her mask, the shadows are allowing him to see faint lines of her lips. He finally notices now that she was smiling under that mask.

At him.

Jungkook takes a long deep breath to bring himself back from his trance. Instantly continuing on sorting out the pictures, separating the photos he had taken of her into a different folder.

He stares straight at the screen before he types different names onto each folder, a way for him to remember each of their contents before sending them out. He waits for a little while before renaming the last folder, the one where he keeps her pictures in, as he types in the question he has in his mind at the person behind the mask—

Who are you?

The bed creaks in a steady rhythm. Two bodies—both naked and sweaty beneath the linen covers—rock under the dim light steadily with intensity, accompanied by deep grunts and soft moans. The humid air is filled with dust, remnants of alcohol and the scent of sex. The ardent lovemaking emits heat so intense until they are bathed in beads of sweat, the fire evident in their eyes as they chase for their ends.

“Oh, Jiheon— You should look at yourself,” the man huffs while tightening his hold on her skin. “You look so pretty like this.”

The man keeps his eyes on the woman beneath him to admire her sight. Her red hair is spread over the pillows like fire, and her red lips are parted, allowing her mewls to come out between her ragged breaths.

"Ah—” Jiheon releases a mewl as the man who is ramming his cock inside her core increases his pace, her fingers are now buried between the tangled sheets, holding on while keeping them away from the sweaty chest hovering above her. Her thighs are both lifted in the air, being held by a pair of strong arms as they are folded around his waist, allowing him to have more access to reach deep inside and to move his hips more fluidly.

"You like that, babe? Huh?" the man grunts between each word, and he keeps driving his cock into her, getting much harder each time he hears any sounds slipping from her lips. "Fuck, you're getting tighter."

"Oh— that's it, big guy," Jiheon cries out, "Oh! Yes! Fuck me! Hard!" Jiheon spits out the words each time he draws his cock inside her walls, hitting hard right at her sweet spot until her head starts spinning with the intense bliss. He keeps ramming, relentlessly, until he joins her, shocks of his own pleasure coursing through his body as he explodes inside her.

"Fuck—”

He goes still for a moment, giving in to the remaining spasms of his release until he lets out a deep grunt and pulls out of her, allowing his thick cream to flow out through her nether lips. His eyes are fluttering to close as he savours the feeling that is surging through his senses, only opening them wide as he catches the sight of Jiheon reaching down between her legs, capturing the drops of cum with her delicate fingers before lifting them to her lips. He watches with a dark gaze as she licks her fingers slowly, teasingly, while keeping her eyes locked on his, driving him completely mad at the scene that his still throbbing shaft twitches between his legs.

Jiheon tightens the linen covers around her bare body after settling on top of the bed with her back resting on the headboard. She looks over towards the open bathroom door to see white faint steam flowing through the gap, as she reaches to the bedside to pick up a pack of cigarette and a lighter.

She is in the midst of lighting up a cigarette when the man walks out of the bathroom while rubbing the hotel towel to dry out his soaked hair. He only has his pants on, his bare chest still a bit damp as he stops at the doorway and looks up at her.

"Judging from the looks of it, you're not going home tonight, are you?" Jiheon speaks to him before taking a long draw of her smoke. The man smirks as he stares at her, watching her exhale the smoke before she asks him, "Still chasing that ghost of yours?"

"Well, it's kind of what I'm paid to do," the man chuckles. He throws the towel away after he finishes drying up, and walks over to the bed to retrieve the rest of his clothes.

She looks up at him, watching him put his clothes on with a sarcastic chuckle, "Your official boss? Or the other?"

The man scoffs, "Both, actually—” he sits on the bed, half facing her as he speaks while putting on his tie in a sloppy knot, “—except each payroll have their own different agendas. All I could do is adjust to their commands."

"Tell me again about this ghost of yours. Why are you after them?"

He smacks his lips, while his eyes trail the wall across from him as a way to focus on sorting through the pieces of information he has kept inside his head. Jiheon looks away when she figures that perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about work tonight, but then he turns to her with a smug smirk.

"There have been random puzzles being spread all over the internet, each of them hiding intricate messages—some contains random and useless pieces of information, while others have more consequential messages. Names, locations, photos, any kind of information that is worth either a lot of money or someone else's life," he stops to take the cigarette away from her fingers, taking a draw before giving it back to her, only continuing to speak after he exhales a thick white smoke. "The one we’ve been tracking down is this ghost that has been spreading them. From the way they describe themselves on those puzzles, it looks like they form themselves as a group of people, or a whole organisation, who definitely know how to create these tricky puzzles and have ways in spreading them to specific people only. No one really knows for sure, really. And no one could ever figure out what they want.”

He sighs. “But one thing we do know is that whenever anyone gets too close to revealing their identity—either they are the ones that claimed to have succeeded in solving the puzzles, or people digging about them illegally for whatever damn reason, someone always ends up dead."

"There are victims? I thought you said once that these people are just a bunch of hackers?"

"Yeah, that’s what we thought," he sighs, leaning down to put his shoes on. “—until one of the hackers who we thought was related to them was shot to death—” he turns, reaching out to her and points a finger to her temple, “—right here."

“So what happens if anyone manages to solve the puzzle?”

The man shrugs. “Nobody knows. Some of the people that had hinted about solving them have mostly disappeared. Some of them are illegal hackers anyway, so no one really cared at first. But then students, computer tech experts, and some other known geniuses began disappearing simultaneously whether they have publicly claimed on solving the puzzles or merely showing interests on them, and that’s when everyone becomes alerted,” he rubs his chin, tilting his head until his smug face is illuminated by the light coming from the bedside lamp. “We initially figured that the missing people have probably chosen to go underground to join them, or just stopped going online publicly if they did, in fact, had really succeeded in solving them too. Now we’re not sure anymore.”

Jiheon gnaws her bottom lip. "What if it was you? What if you're targeted just like that hacker?"

The man laughs. "That's what my second employers are good for. To keep me safe—” he reaches into his pocket, “—while also paying me enough money so I could pay for your service." She watches him as he takes out a rolled bill from his pocket, and places it onto her palm.

He leans over to kiss her lips. "Thanks for your time, beautiful. I'll see you next Thursday," he says with a wink, before leaving the bed and walks over towards the door.

"See you then, Detective," she hums towards the man, right before the door shuts to close.

It is a little close to an hour later when Jiheon steps out of the small hotel. In many normal events, she would have stayed longer, not leaving the rented bedroom after she is sure that she has taken a long hot bath and has finished redoing her hair and makeup perfectly since she would always have to go back to work. But this time she could not stay any longer. Not at the worn down hotel with a room that is too suffocating for her to rest well enough to regain her drained energy.

"Fuck, I still smell like him," she curses under her breath as she breathes in the remnants of his cologne that somehow manages to stay on her skin, right as she paces down the sidewalk.

She makes a quick turn after a few buildings down, taking a shortcut through the alleyways. It is dangerous for a woman like her to walk in dark places so late at night, but she has both hands inside her coat pockets, ready to pull out her folded knife and pepper spray if any danger ever comes her way.

“Jiheon—” a humming soft voice calls for her, making her stop in her tracks and looks around. She recognises the voice so well to feel secure enough to loosen her clenched fists inside her pockets. Knowing who it might be, she squints her eyes into the darker alley, until the person emerges into her sight.

“Now where are you running to so late at night?” the hum returns as a woman in black leather hooded jacket comes into the light, stepping out of the shadows to allow the nearest street light to fall over her face. Her jade-coloured eyes gleam in the darkness that is thicker than her dark hair that has fallen on her back completely uncovered.

“Mae!” Jiheon greets her with relieved before walking closer. “I just finished a job. I’m heading back to my place,” she says as she stood by the other woman that is standing slightly taller than herself beneath the shadows. Her eyes study the other thoroughly, as she is used to seeing through the dark. “—and it looks like you also just finished yours, hmm?”

Mae tilts her head, lifting her brows with a fond look in her eyes. “How did you know?”

“You smell like blood and gunpowder. And there’s some dried blood on your sleeve,” Jiheon smirks at her, earning a laughter to come out of the other.

“Clever girl. Nothing escapes your eyes, does it?”

Jiheon smiles at her as her laughter dies down. “Was it a tough one?”

“Definitely not something to worry about,” Mae answers her calmly while shaking her head. Stopping abruptly as the memory of her catching someone lurking in the shadows from the neighbouring building just as she was about to retrieve her ‘package’. The image gives her a smile, as she recalls how the mystery figure hiding behind the lens stayed still even as she glanced straight at them, expecting them to rush into hiding or run away. “I wouldn’t worry much if I were you,” she continues to speak after brushing the memory away. “I saw the detective walking out of the hotel before you did. How was it?”

Jiheon scoffs, her eyes light up with a surprised look. “How long exactly have you been following me?”

Mae shrugs. “Just enough time to know that he’s a quickie. I needed a break anyway, it’s been a long night,” she clicks her tongue. “Did you get him to talk?”

Jiheon lets out a chuckle. "Oh, that man sure does love to talk. I didn't even have to ask for much and he started talking about a huge part of his case," she muses. “He mostly talked about the ghost again, but he mentioned about the puzzles this time.”

“Hmmm, good. We’re getting there,” Mae smirks at her, nodding her head as she takes in the news delightedly. “Anything else?”

“Just the things he usually talks about. Except he mentioned about some victims this time, which is something I haven't heard about. Missing people, dead people—” Jiheon’s voice trails as she remembers every word he had given her, “—you wouldn’t be involved on those, would you?”

“Oh, I do take lives. That’s what I’m paid for. But it’s definitely not me, or us. We're not that messy,” she shakes her head, gritting her teeth as she thinks about the event that happened earlier tonight, when someone else had arrived only minutes before she did, so close into harming the ‘package’ she was sent there to grab. There were not supposed to be casualties, but someone wanted the same thing she did, in a more reckless way. “Anything close enough to a lead? A name?”

Jiheon shakes her head this time, her eyes showing defeat. “I’m not close or deep enough to get that yet. He didn’t even carry any belongings except for his dick and his thick wallet this time, so I didn’t find anything.”

Mae takes a step closer to her, the slight height difference between them allows her to brush her nose on the top of Jiheon’s head. She breathes in her scent as she starts to lean down closer to her ever so gently. “Have you taken a shower after you were done with him?”

Jiheon’s breath hitches at the sudden close proximity between them, and the slightest touch she feels as Mae’s fingers graze beneath her coat just over her waist. “I did take a quick one. I hate the place, so I just left immediately,” she answers with a soft whisper.

“You still reek of men’s cologne,” Mae hums while nuzzling her nose between the strains of Jiheon’s red hair. She catches Jiheon’s wrist, before gently pulling her to follow her as she starts walking through the dark alleyway.

“Come on. Let me help you clean up.”

Jiheon's voice echoes through the walls. The hum that keeps coming out through her lips is showing perfectly on how much her body is relaxing under the running water as she stands beneath the shower head. But the drops of hot water falling over her skin are certainly not the only reason why her strained muscles and numbed senses are unwinding with each passing seconds.

"How does this feel?" Mae hums softly from behind her, her fingers are buried within Jiheon's red hair, expertly massaging the scalp while spreading the shampoo to loosen the knots on her hair.

“Hmmm—” Jiheon lets out another hum, earning a soft chuckle to escape Mae’s lips. “I wouldn’t know if I’m doing it right if you’re not telling me anything,” she whispers with her lips brushing the nape of Jiheon’s neck.

“But it feels so good—” Jiheon hums, her hands moves to her breasts as she gently rubs soap all over her chest.

“Good,” Mae chuckles, as she moves her hands away without pulling back, her nose and lips still grazing on Jiheon’s skin. “And the way you smell is so much better now.”

Jiheon tilts her head to the back as she lets Mae help her rinse all the shampoo off of her hair, keeping her eyes closed as she relishes the moment and the warmth that engulfs her whole body. She is truly lost in her own pleasure that she forgets how close Mae is standing to her back until she feels delicate fingers touching her skin, gently spreading the liquid soap all over Jiheon’s body while her back meets a pair of supple breasts pressing from behind. A gasp escapes her lips when the fingers softly move upward, brushing and kneading gently right beneath her breasts.

She leans back, allowing her body to fall over Mae’s chest as the latter moves her fingers gently, kneading over her bosoms and pointed nubs while lathering the soap on the tender skin, not leaving any single inch as if she is trying to erase the remaining traces that Jiheon's previous customer had left behind.

Mae keeps moving her palm in circles, ever so gently, pressing down the tip of her fingers on each movement to earn the continuous soft hums from Jiheon, escaping between her short breaths. The hums become more apparent, slowly turning into light moans as she feels the soft touches keep moving lower, slowly moving closer to her center.

A light gasp slips through Jiheon's lips the minute a tip of a finger grazes an inch away from her mound. The warmth coming from both the running water and the soft palms lathering her skin have both been sending waves of sensual pleasure, teasing and tickling all over her senses, until heat starts building in her core. Jiheon squeezes both her legs together, accidentally catching Mae's hand in between, allowing the other to giggle.

"What's wrong? Do you want me to stop?" Mae whispers to her, brushing her lips over her earlobe as she does so. "You never said no before—”

Jiheon takes a deep breath before pulling her legs apart. She turns slightly to look over her shoulder until her face is closer to Mae's. Biting her lips, she whispers, "No, don't stop—” she sighs, earning a smile from the other. Jiheon shudders as the slender fingers that have been roaming around her mound slips back between her legs, brushing on either side of her folds so gently. With her eyelids fluttering to close, she catches Mae's wrist with her own, daringly guiding the hand to slide towards her core while whispering, “—just keep on going."

Jiheon wraps a towel around her body and another covering her wet hair before making her way out of the bathroom with Mae in the midst of leaving the shower behind her. Yet right the minute her sight slips out through the doorway, she lets out a loud squeal.

“Whoa— Oh, sorry, I—” a deep voice is heard from outside, catching Mae’s attention which earns her smirk to appear even before she follows Jiheon to leave the bathroom.

Meanwhile, just right outside, there is a man now standing with both of his hands up right in the middle of the living room, a few feet away from the bathroom hall. A startled look on his face as he certainly is not ready to see another person appearing before him. “—I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here. Uhm—” he keeps stuttering, looking around as if he is trying to find somewhere to hide. The sight is only causing the previously startled Jiheon to now stare at him in awe with a soft giggle slipping from her. Turning awkwardly to look at the girl in front of her, he clears his throat before asking sheepishly, “I’m here for Mae. Is she around? Is she here?”

“She’s here.” Mae's voice is heard from inside the bathroom, seconds before she appears through the doorway, stepping behind Jiheon while greeting him with her signature sly smirk, “Hello, Taehyung.”

Her body and hair are both still wet, the water still dripping off her skin yet she is standing there completely bare, without any towels to cover herself. She looks over to the other girl, nodding her head as she calmly runs her finger through the few strands of red hair that have fallen out of the towel wrapping around her head and hanging on the side of Jiheon's face. "Go on and wait for me in the bedroom. I'll be with you in a minute."

The smaller girl nods before walking away into the bedroom, deliberately sending a flirty glance over at Taehyung while passing the doorway with her hips swaying side to side, followed by both Mae's and Taehyung's gaze until she disappears from their sights. Mae has her body leaning at the bathroom's door when Taehyung turns his eyes back towards her, her eyes meeting his while she lifts both hands, squeezing the drenched hair as an effort to dry herself a little as she waits for him to speak. Her eyes light up when she notices how Taehyung's attention still lingers at her companion. “She’s my guest. You guys did say that I’m free to invite anyone in my own home," she smirks. "So, what brings you here?”

Taehyung stutters once more as he is pulled away from his reverie. His eyes are looking everywhere else but at Mae, always glancing away immediately the moment he tries to look at her face, “I was just— You’re not answering your call, and— Christ, can’t you put on a towel or something? I literally can’t speak to you seriously with you looking like— that.”

Mae only lifts her eyebrows, straightening her body instead of attempting to cover herself. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”

“Ew— No, we literally grew up together. It’s like seeing my own baby sister naked in front of me. Cover up, I can’t talk with you like that,” he scowls with furious eyes. “And dry yourself up for once? Please?”

His flustered remarks allow Mae to release an amused laugh. “Fine,” she says, before walking back into the bathroom, coming back seconds later with a towel wrapped around her body. "Better?"

Taehyung releases a sigh and nods. "Much better."

The man rolls his eyes when he sees how Mae is completely entertained by his flustered state. He turns around and makes his way to the sofa, sitting while brushing his hand over his hair in exasperation.

"Okay, what is it that you want to talk about?" Mae walks over to stand before him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He looks at her, now becoming more serious as she brings up the topic, finally, albeit the way she seems to have been trying to avoid the talk by not taking him so seriously. “Your job tonight. How did it go?”

She shrugs. “It was okay. Should’ve been a piece of cake, if it wasn’t for the leak," she scoffs. Even if she seems so careless and nonchalant for the whole night, it is still pretty obvious that she has been keeping her anger to herself for how the night has turned out to be. The mission she was sent out for was simple. She was supposed to retrieve a whole package—consisted of a witness and some files which the man is keeping safe—and to have them all sent into hiding until The Elders, the people she works for, would come and collect what they need. It was supposed to be a simple pickup and delivery, no hit or kill until that witness is no longer useful and her directive changes the moment everything is done.

But apparently, someone had decided to make their own move.

"It would've been a complete mess if I had gotten in a few seconds too late. Whoever was sent to assassinate him probably knew the target was going to arrive ahead of the designated time."

"What about the guards? He was supposed to be there alone, not surrounded by random bodyguards."

Mae stares at him, gritting her teeth. The same question filled her mind ever since she stepped into the building. "No, he wasn't supposed to be protected. So it was either he knew he was targeted, or he was setting a trap for us." Because it would be the perfect explanation for everything. For the sudden change of his arrival, the guards, the assassin. Mae lets out a curse under her breath, not only because the whole night did not completely go as planned, but the fact that someone else was so close to taking her target from her.

She is the one who was supposed to take his life when the time is due. Not some random inexperienced hitman.

"I'll try to find out who they are. In the meantime, you stay in his shadows. Find out what he is really up to," Taehyung tuts while rubbing his chin, while Mae nods her head as an answer. "Did you stay around during the cleanup?"

"Yeah, I did. I had to make sure they didn't leave anything or destroy any clues we needed," Mae hums calmly while recalling everything, reminding herself to submit everything she had found to her leaders.

"So nothing was left behind? Did you make sure of it? No scratch, no witness?"

"No," Mae answers him firmly, not even looking away despite silently recalling the whole events like a broken record in her head. The image of the man in the shadows, hiding behind the long-range lens as he was lurking from afar, flashes in her mind all of a sudden. "No witness. Every single one of the guards was already down when I chased him up. I reported everything earlier. I scanned the area to make sure there was no one around as witnesses."

"Is that so?"

Taehyung stays silent for a brief while. His eyes trail over Mae's feature as if he is trying to see through beneath her mask. Mae keeps standing there without faltering even for a second. She cannot even understand why she had left the mysterious figure that was spying on her completely untouched, even when she was trained to not leave anything behind. But she is not even worried about letting one prey go for once, because for some reason there is something deep inside her that keeps letting her know that she is meant to meet them again one day. Perhaps soon enough.

Taehyung nods his head while nibbling his lips. "Okay then. I should go check on every report now that I've heard them from you directly. I was a bit worried since I know you must be affected by—”

"I'm fine. You don't have to baby me," she cuts him off, earning a sarcastic scoff to escapes through Taehyung's lips.

Right, of course," he hums as he stands up on his feet. “Anyway, I'm also here to inform you about your next task. You are going to be sent on guarding the ‘package’ in within the next 48 hours. You'll have the details sent later, so you should rest up in the meantime," he says, while making his way towards the front door, stopping to add another instruction right before he leaves. "Oh, and another thing. You need to report straight to Big Brother in the morning.”

Mae quirks her eyebrows. "Big Brother? You mean, Yoongi?” it's been a while since she has met him, the man she had known since the very first day she joined the organisation. The name ‘Big Brother’ is relevant in so many things, him being the older member who had taken care of her for years being one of those reasons. But he had been underground for so long already, unless he is needed for a much bigger mission which requires his expertise. “Why?”

Taehyung halts as he is about to open the door, turning to look at her. “He just had a meeting with The Elders. They have a message for you. I don't know what it is, but it must be important.” He stands by the doorway as he waits for her to respond, only making his leave once Mae answers him with, "Understood."

Mae stands still even after Taehyung disappears behind the closed door. The silence that engulfs her becomes her refuge, as she takes a moment to let everything sinks in. After letting out a long breath, she turns around, making her way towards the bedroom where she is most expected.

A bright smile appears on her face instantly the moment her eyes catch the sight of the red-haired woman now lying on her bed, waiting patiently while staring at her fingers that are circling over the sheets. Jiheon looks up to her, returning Mae's smile with her own before she lifts the blanket to reveal her bare body underneath as she welcomes Mae to join her.

Jungkook had left his apartment when the sky was still dark.

He took his time and went back to the scene from the other night, scanning the area inside and out to find any clues, anything that could answer the question he had circling inside his mind on his sleepless night. But he should have known that nothing would be left behind.

Except for him.

Jungkook stood in the darkness of the room that became witness to the scene, scanning every nook and cranny to find nothing, not even a single drop of blood or tear, even though he had witnessed a mass killing only hours before. He took his time, taking pictures of the room while recalling everything he saw from start to end. The shootings, the arguments, the killings, and the assassins.

Two assassins, one who killed and one who helped the target to flee the scene, appearing to do it forcefully instead of acting as a simple bodyguard in the process.

He still could not understand what had happened. He was sent there to take pictures and find information, to stalk the subject so he could find any dirt that could be used by people who had hired him, while perhaps find any bit of clues he could use for his work since the subject was a pretty well-known man. He has been doing this job for years—chasing news, digging into people’s deepest secrets, unravelling their masks for the sake of his job and getting to publish the hottest news first while chasing his own ghost.

But now the whole thing only leads him into finding another ghost to chase.

It was hours later after the sun came up when Jungkook left the building, headed straight to his office to have an extra time for himself so he could browse through his computer and the internet before he has to start working for the day. He has not received any calls of incoming news either or the police, so he was expecting to find other sources of information online, other witnesses. But he found nothing, as if everything was wiped out completely from the surface of the earth.

They are good, he thinks to himself amusedly.

"Jungkook, you're here already?"

He turns his seat to see his head division walking towards his workstation. He has been the only one in the office for a while now since the sun had come up, and he has lost track of time completely to not realising that it's almost time for working hours to officially start. Switching his mouse to hide all the browsers from the screen, he greets the older man politely just as everything is cleared and the man is now standing by his desk. "Yes, Sir. I just had to finish something that I was working on last night and made sure there won’t be any problems with the online pages in the website."

"Wow, you're such a workaholic,” the other man chuckles. “But it's good that you're here. Do you still have a lot to do today?"

"Not really, Sir."

"Good,” his senior says, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I'm supposed to go and meet this young tycoon to interview him today. He called the company about clarifying some rumours of him joining politics. I know it's not really your field, but I think it could be a good opportunity for you to learn more. We're running out of reporters to send. Will it be okay for you to take over and join me in the interview?"

"Sure, I can do it," Jungkook nods his head immediately.

"Alright, I'll give you the details later. Try to study more about this man's background before meeting him in person," he says, giving Jungkook the name of the said tycoon before leaving him be.

"Will do, Sir."

It is later in the midday, right around the time lunch break hour has ended when Jungkook joins his head division, operating as the reporter on this occasion, and they settle in the head office which belongs to the famous tycoon whom they are about to speak to.

This will be the first time for Jungkook to be involved in such an exclusive interview, and he is doing his best to act professional, having his troubled thoughts pushed away so he can focus on the job today. He calmly sets his camera and other types of equipment while there are other staffs around him preparing the set and the man in Armani suits who is about to be the spotlight of the day. Jungkook has his eyes set on his devices, occasionally looking up at the interviewee as he is preparing himself, only to make sure that everything is set perfectly in place.

“Are we ready?” Jungkook looks up at his senior reporter who is waiting for everyone so patiently on his own seat.

Jungkook gives out a signal letting everyone know that everything is all set, and moments later he watches as the respondent, the famous tycoon and the owner of the whole building, walks over to the seat that has been set for him. It did not take Jungkook long enough to study about the man’s background before coming here, for everything he should know about the man are available everywhere and through every possible source both online and offline.

The man before him is famous for being a young tycoon, who owns numerous business lines in various region—from properties, stocks, to pubs and night clubs. He was able to find everything about the man so easily, and have also heard a lot already coming from Jimin every time the roommate comes home sharing news and gossips about the people who run the place where he works at.

Jungkook sets the camera right at the moment the man before him nods his head to give permission to the reporter in front of him to start.

“So, Mr. Kim Seokjin—” Jungkook hears his older co-worker starts the whole event, ready to throw the first question to begin the session, “—let’s talk about the news that has been spreading lately—”

“I’d say that went pretty well, didn’t it?” Jungkook’s senior speaks up proudly as they are on the elevator ride two hours later. The interview went along well, and both men had stayed a bit longer to have a more casual conversation with the tycoon they had just interviewed, Kim Seokjin.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for taking me with you,” Jungkook smiles at the man, which then responds to him with, “Thanks for helping. Looks like I’m going to ask you to assist me more often starting from now.”

As both men share the gratitude towards one another during the long elevator ride, the moment they reach the ground floor and step out towards the lobby, Jungkook feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He walks a bit slower to allow him to retrieve the phone and read the message in discreet, somehow already knowing that he should hide the information being sent to him.

[03.45 PM] From KYG: sending links to the puzzle on email

—and with it comes another chime as a sign of a mail coming into his phone.

Completely aware that he might not be able to open the links through a mobile connection, Jungkook puts his phone away and starts pacing to keep up with his senior mate, carrying his heavy devices in hand. They continue the previous conversation that was cut short earlier as they make their way through the spacious lobby towards the way out.

Just at that moment, Jungkook turns to glance at the main entrance door and nearly halts to freeze the moment his eyes land on the man who is walking past the massive glass door. His eyes trail over the bandaged hand that is carrying a brown leather duffel bag on his side, the faint cut on his lipa—which has his memory flashing back to the moment he witnessed the man receiving a big slap by the masked intruder—and the bags under his eyes.

It is his target.

The same man that he followed and spied on last night, the one he witnessed escaping death by an unidentified assassin.

His eyes follow the man unknowingly as he walks closer, everything suddenly seems so far as he has his full attention on the target which is about to pass him by. Until his eyes move to the one walking behind him. A woman is following closely behind the man; she is wearing a black on black business suit, a pair of black high heels, her hair falling on her back and nearly reaching her waist, a pair of glasses covering her face.

His breath hitches the moment he sees her, for behind those clear glasses are a pair of jade-coloured eyes, staring straight at the man in front of her while subtly glancing around in alert.

Jungkook halts his footsteps completely as the pair walk past him. He could hear the pounding in his chest surging through his head, and the chill coming back to take over his body almost completely, rushing briefly before everything goes away and he returns to his own self, remembering that he needs to walk away and follow his companion behind. Yet for some reason he does not even know why, he still manages to turn to look over his shoulder right before he is able to continue walking.

The moment his eyes find her again, however, she does just the same—looking over her shoulder slightly towards him, showing a subtle smirk before she continues to walk away and disappears between the crowd.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

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