#Dr. anthony is going to be a serious problem for sure

[clickerflight]

Fallen: Part 11 - Apple Slices

Author's notes: SUP I WRITE FOR I AM IN PAIN! This story is so fun. I'm so excited everytime I get to write in it. We're getting Ivan whump for the next few chapters for surrrre.

Masterlist - Part 10

Content: Henchman whumpee, scientist whumper, dehumanization, fighting, kick to the ribs, mentioned scars, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, brainwashed, weapon whump

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Dr. LeAnne, now free of two failed projects, could focus all of her attention on this one, and it was going very, very well. The only problem she was having with it was that she had to share. She could put up with Dr. Ortega who watched Alpha-2 with polite disinterest. He was here for the technology and processes, He didn’t care about breaking some random man into the perfect slave weapon. 

Dr. Anthony, however, watched Alpha-2 with hungry eyes and Dr. LeAnne had a suspicion that he wanted what she wanted. A perfectly loyal dog to do his bidding. She had to really keep herself in check around him, knowing this. She would win this fight, she knew it, but she needed to stay on top of the game at all times if she wanted Alpha-2 to be completely hers. 

Today was the fourth day of his training. She had missed the day before because of a lost asset, but she didn’t have time to linger on that problem, considering the fact that Dr. Anthony would take her weapon from her if she didn’t stay very involved. 

Alpha-2 was a little shaky on his feet still from how long he had been in information training, though he had taken it very well. He did what he was told, if a bit slowly and with a dazed expression, like he didn’t quite know where or who he was. Dr. LeAnne would fix that soon. He would know who he was exactly. He was hers. 

His right arm was inflamed and rashy from the dose of Alpha-1’s blood that had been given to him this morning. Hopefully he would show signs of the powers properly developing. For now, they would need to get his muscle mass up so he could fight hand to hand. 

“Alpha-2,” Dr. Anthony said into the intercom, making Dr. LeAnne grind her teeth together. Who was this guy to order her weapon around like that? She was the one who made the acquisition so she should be the one leading the project. 

Alpha-2 straightened up, facing the wall with the one way mirror, arms folded behind his back and back straight. If it weren’t for that dazed expression, Dr. LeAnne would have thought him the perfect soldier already. 

“You will not stop fighting until I say so, understand?”

Alpha-2 gave a singular nod. 

“Good.”

He pressed another button and doors opened up, revealing 4 men hired for the training. The scientists had a good idea of Alpha-2’s fight prowess as the henchman of a powerful villain, but they had been testing how much of that knowledge and power had survived the mental training. 

A good deal of it, it seemed. Dr. LeAnne couldn’t stop grinning as she watched Alpha-2 deal with the four men very well. Sure, he was too weak to actually win against them all, but he was skilled enough to keep them all at bay for long enough that it had Dr. LeAnne salivated just thinking about how well he would be fighting when he was well fed and rested again. When his feet no longer shook under him and when his body really began to accept the blood he’d been given.

And then she looked at Dr. Anthony and saw the exact same expression. She would need to kill him soon, maybe by Alpha-2’s own hands, but for now, she would have to satisfy herself with undermining him. 

She leaned forward to press her own intercom button and said, “You may stop fighting now, Alpha-2. Units, back down.”

The fight summarily stopped and Dr. Anthony’s face reddened as he realized she had completely proved that her voice could stop a fight that he commanded to continue. 

“Alpha-2, you will keep fighting and-”

“Oh, come now, Dr. Anthony. He’s unsteady on his feet and we’ve seen enough. We don’t want the project hurt before it can come to fruition, do we? I will take it from here.”

“No, I-”

But Dr. LeAnne had already left the office and entered the arena. 

Alpha-2, who had stopped and returned to his waiting position facing the mirror, slowly got to his knees, hands folded in his lap and head bowed when he saw her coming. 

“Good boy,” she crooned. “I brought you a treat.”

She loved that little tremble through his shoulders when she offered him kindness. He was still sweaty, bruised and cut up, but she ran her head over his freshly shaved head and reached into her pocket for the apple slices she’d brought along. 

She fed him by hand as the door opened and Dr. Anthony stormed in, on the verge of a full on fit. 

“You can’t do that! He is on a strict dietary plan and-”

“Oh, come now. You can’t treat him like a machine. He’s a sweet little animal. And he performed well so he gets a treat,” Dr. LeAnne cooed. “Aren’t you just, Alpha-2. If you’re lucky, we might even give you a name!”

Alpha-2 didn’t respond, but his trembling was all the confirmation she needed that he was ecstatic about the praise. 

Dr. Anthony’s voice took on a low and threatening tone as he said, “You are trying to take this project for yourself entirely. I will bring this to the board and they will have you removed. You failed once already, and-”

“Oh, hush. Alpha-1 wasn’t a good subject for the training. Not like Alpha-2 here. No. You are much better than him, aren’t you. You can take orders and still be so strong for us.”

Alpha-2 was trembling with so much excitement that Dr. LeAnne wondered if he was going to wet himself. She almost wanted him to, even if it would be a mess. 

Dr. Anthony clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “I will have you kicked off this project, LeAnne.”

“You can certainly try. And if you do, good luck synthesizing the blood substance correctly. I didn’t write everything down.” She gave him a cheeky smile, still rubbing Alpha-2’s head. 

Dr. Anthony opened and closed his mouth several times before throwing his hands in the air, clearly too angry to argue before storming off. 

“Come, Alpha-2. Let us go to the cleaning room.”

Alpha-2 stood and followed her like a dazed duckling, and when they got there, she sat on a bench and patted her lap. 

“Come lay down. You’ll be needing your rest, but I do need to speak with you before you sleep.”

He sat on the bench and slowly lowered himself down, putting his head in her lap where she could stroke his head, massaging his forehead. His eyes went even more out of focus, trembling even more fiercely now. 

“You are doing really well, and you’ll do even better for me, won’t you? There’s a task I will need you to be ready for, you know. An asset that escaped. I need him back soon. Not right now, but soon. His blood is necessary for making you powerful, you know. So you will help me when the time comes, yes? You’ll do so good, won’t you?”

Alpha-2 nodded eagerly. “Yes, Ma’am. I will.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest. You don’t even know who the asset is anymore, do you.”

His confused expression delighted the scientist and she laughed, moving her hand to cover his eyes. “Oh, don’t you worry, dear. That’s perfect. You are doing so well. And if you are very good, I will let you kill Dr. Anthony yourself.”

He tensed up at that. “I can, Ma’am? I’d be-” he yelped as she shoved him off her lap and onto the floor, kicking him in the ribs. He moved quickly to kneel for her as she’d trained him to. 

“You do not talk unless given permission,” she said sharply. 

He nodded once and froze into a perfect statue again. 

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. I will. But only if you are good. If you prove your training isn’t wasted on you.”

He nodded again, keeping his eyes on her shoes. 

“Good. Now. Did you want the rest of these apples?”

Usually, a question would be good enough to allow him to speak, but he simply nodded, not wanting to anger her again. 

“Come here, then.”

Soon, his head was laid in her lap as he knelt by her feet, slowly eating the apple slices with half closed eyes. While he did so, Dr. LeAnne looked over the freshly healing scars on his back. Most of them were markings to help identify details about him, and she traced over them. They had been made in a way so as not to stress him out, but she decided that she would make it hurt when she took him for herself and marked her name into his skin. He would always be her perfect project. 

“You must not speak a word of what I have told you to Dr. Anthony or Dr. Ortega, understand, Alpha-2?”

The project nodded faintly. 

“Even if they torture you.”

He nodded again, this time more firmly. 

Satisfied, Dr. LeAnne was quiet and content as she fed him the rest of the apple slices. 

Part 12

Fallen taglist: @looptheloup @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @snakebites-and-ink @starsick1979 @galaxyofwhump

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Part 13

I have rewrote this chapter so many times, I'm not really happy with it but I can't do any better. I really really hope you guys enjoy it. I can't even begin to express how much I appreciate and value every note and bit of feedback I get, this series has been about 1/4 as popular as my Vikings one but everytime I see a new note it gives me the motivation to keep going. Thank you, truly thank you.

Part 12

Series Masterlist

Contains: Serious angst and injury, follows the plot of the Bones episode Aliens in a Spaceship S2 E9, being buried alive, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective Jax, if I forget any please don't hesitate to comment.

3.4K Words

Comment if you want to be tagged

Buried alive

You were swamped, having to give Skeeter his private tour had taken up most of your yesterday and you were pretty sure the current remains you were looking were that of the mob boss Anthony 'Slick Tony' Barbrow.

"The beetle found in the skull is the standard carrion beetle, it gives us nothing. I'm going to try and look at the sediment again." You shook your head.

"Thanks Jack, I think I'm going to head home after I finish cataloguing these X-rays, I'm beat." He tapped the wall in sympathy and walked back to his office."

Ring ring ring

"Hello Sammy, is there a reason you're calling me in the middle of the worst work week in the year?"

You heard him take a deep breath over the line, "Are you alone?" You shook your head even though he couldn't see.

"Yes I'm alone. What's going on?" Sam didn't sound happy.

"I heard the Slick Tony might be on your slab." That was a bit of a shock.

"Yeah, what the fuck is going on Sam?" He was talking to someone else in the room with him.

"He owes the Italians a lot of money, if it's him they have a real problem." You rubbed your face with your hand.

"I'm certain it's him, we're just waiting in the DNA. Is this Cacuzza's crew or someone else?" Sam sounded exasperated.

"Another crew. Be careful y/n, these guys aren't playing and they want their money one way or another." You took a deep breath.

"Thank Sam. I'll be home soon." You packed your bag and put some files into it before walking down to the parking lot. You felt someone behind you but it was too late, there was a sharp pain on your neck and then everything faded. You never saw the two men load you into the car, nor did you see them run over Jack and take him too.

Sam was worried sick, you were late and you were never late without letting him know first. Deep down, he knew something was very wrong.

He had called you hundreds of time now with no answer, there's no way you let him worry like he was worried now, so he did the only thing he could think of and called your best friend.

"Billy, have you heard for y/n?"

There was silence across the line, "No, call the other members and tell them you think something's wrong, I'm telling my guy to ready the jet now."

He was going to run off when he got a knock on the door, it was Deputy Hale.

"Hello Sam, can I come in?" Sam's first urge was to tell him to come back with a warrant but he knew something was wrong. He settled for stepping outside and taking to Hale on the front steps.

"Three hours ago, security cameras picked up your sister being taken by two men. A few moments later Dr. Jonathan Hodgins was injured and then taken as well . "Would you know anything about this?" Sam was in shock, his world started spinning and he reached out to grab the doorframe.

"No, I knew something was wrong when she didn't return my calls. She been busy all week with a Mob case, that's all I know." Hale nodded.

"Thank you Sam, stay in reach and we'll call you when we know more. Hale left and Sam went inside, he picked up his phone and called Clay.

"Y/n and one of her colleagues have been kidnapped. Get Cacuzza on the line now, I think it's got to do with the case they've been working."

****

The whole of Samcrow showed up ten minutes later, Jax looked like his whole world was ending.

"What do we know?" Clay's tone was firm.

"Nothing, Russo will be here soon, he's more able to help." Jax bristled.

"We shouldn't be bringing outsiders in..."

Sam cut him off, "I don't want to hear it, if you have the best intelligence at your fingertips I'd love to see it." The message was heard loud and clear "shut up, civilian."

"We need to get Cacuzza up to speed, we should do the rest of this at the Clubhouse, the cops are going to be hanging around us like flys. Y/n wouldn't appreciate anyone she doesn't know in her house." They left the moment Sam was done speaking.

He was right, the cops were hanging around like flys, Unser had given them 6 hours before he called the feds. This was one problem Clay couldn't manipulate him into leaving be.

Sam had managed to keep them away from your house, and Uncer had conceived Hale to wait for the kidnappers to make contact before setting anything else up. But it was only a matter of time before the cops took over and he lost you forever.

****

You woke up to a pounding in your head and the sound of someone groaning. It was pitch black, feeling around you realised you were in a car. You reached your hand out to find the light and turned it on. The radio worked but barely, another groan pulled you away and you looked behind you.

"Oh my God, Jack." His legs were a mangled mess, he was still barely conscious. "Go slow man, your legs are pretty bad." He looked down at them, then over at you.

You had to get out of here.

You went to open the door but it was blocked shut, when you rolled down the window, dirt poured into the car. You and Jack looked at each other.

"We're buried alive. We've been buried alive." He looked at you wide-eyed and terrified.

****

Cacuzza was waiting for them at the Clubhouse when they arrived, he was with two of his men. He looked unimpressed and irritated.

Hale showed up at the Clubhouse just after they did, he had an evidence bag in his hand.

"We found this on the side of the road, it's y/n weapons and her IDs same for Hodgins. We don't know if they have their phones, we're waiting on the trace." This didn't make Sam feel any better.

"Forget it, y/n friend is on his way. He'd already have the trace, we'll give it to you when we get it from him." Hale was going to keep going but the look on Sam's face would have killed a thousand men, so he left it.

A little while later, Cacuzza received a call; it was an automated voice.

"You have two hours to get up the four million dollars that Barbrow stole from us or we let Samcro's shot doc and her friend suffocate, being buried alive is not a fun way to go. If you contact the police or get anyone else involved, you will never know their location."

****

Billy arrived on foot, making sure to be as inconspicuous as possible. He walked into the Clubhouse like a dark cloud, he only acknowledged Sam, it was like the rest of them didn't exist.

"The trace cut off on the main highway out of Charming, just inside the woods. I've got two guys out there looking for the phone."

He looked around then outside to the cops, "can the lab help?"

Sam shook his head, "they've all been escorted home, the lab was pretty clear about the conflict of interet, we're lucky were not in the same position.

Cacuzza piped up "They said not to........." An icy chill came over the room and then Billy was walking up to Cacuzza. Billy towered over him, leaning over just so to make the power difference clear.

"If I hear from you for the rest of the day I will slit your throat, as far as I'm concerned this is your fault." Even after Billy walked away from him, the mood didn't change.

****

"The car radio still has a signal so we can't be buried that far down, we need to find a way to contact the outside." Jack was still groggy.

"I'll check the trunk." He moved slowly, pulling down the back seat to reach in. He pulled out a heap of things, one of your books, a first aid kit, and a small CB radio.

"Thank god we got taken in your car." He nodded and looked down at his legs again.

"Jack, you're going to get compartment syndrome if we don't do something with them." You and went rooting around in the first aid kit, after a while, you had a handful of tools and a small pocket knife laid out in front of both of you.

"Fasciotomies aren't fun but I've done them before. It's just two long quick cuts, one down each leg. All you need to do is take some deep breath, in and out, in and out. I'm not going to give you any warning, try not to go into shock." he nodded and you put knife to skin, there was the rush of blood and fluid and the sound of pained groans.

Jack was pale but still cognizant, "You good?" He gave you another nod.

"Much better."

****

Are we closer to getting that money?" Jax had been seconds away from putting his fist through the wall since Billy arrived. Cacuzza glanced at Billy then over to Jax. Billy turned his head just enough to acknowledge that the man was still there, "Well, speak?"

"I can't get that much money that fast, it's going to be a while." Sam strode over to him and picked him up by the collar.

"We don't have the fucking long, if it's not here within the hour, I'm going to start cutting hunks of flesh off your body, do you understand me?"

The remaining Sons looked at each other, they weren't in Kansas anymore.

****

"How are your legs?"

Jack took a deep breath. "Much better, the blood loss isn't as bad as I thought it would be." You leaned over to get a closer look.

"The cuts aren't that deep and the adrenaline is keeping blood away from the surface, if you had a deeper injury you'd have bled out by now." He deflated a bit, "sorry, I realise that probably didn't help." He waved his hand.

"Nah, I find your honesty reassuring." He took another deep breath, and reached for the radio. "We need to try and reach out." You nodded.

"It can't be to just anyone, we have no idea who's monitoring the lines and we are in no shape to fend anyone off." You paused in thought.

"I can try Anvil, they usally have a radio running all the time. While I do that, try and see if you can pull oxygen out of thin air."

"Morticia calling home base, Mortica calling home base, do you read me?"

Jack laughed, "Morticia?" You shook your head.

"A term of endearment, I got it a lot at school as an insult but one of the guys used it once when we were in the middle of an op out in the desert and it stuck."

****

"Mor....calling........base.......do..re....me." The man at the radio sat up, "tica.......home....ba......read....me." He didn't stop to listen any longer, he called Billy.

Billy's phone rang twice, and something in him told him to answer it.

"LT, I think I've got a CB transmission from Dr l/n, frequency 27.395." Juice ran off to the garage to find a CB radio and returned a few minutes later.

"Will this work?" Billy nodded and yanked it from his hands, he suppressed to urge to start shaking as he tuned it.

"Morticia, this is Blackbird come in. Blackbird calling Morticia."

****

"th........blackbird.....co...n."

You and Hodgins looked at each other "There's practically no signal." your rubbed your face, "It's close enough, keep working on that O2 scrubber, I'll see if I can get something across.

"Blackbird, Blackbird so you read me?" There was a sputter and a hint of a yes.

"This is ready to go" Jack was getting ready to pour something in a container, you nodded and there was a sizzling burst and it became much easier to breathe. "That bought us an hour or two."

You were looking around the car, trying to see if anything gave away your location.

"Can you smell that?"

Jack lifted his head and took a deep breath, "It smells like trees and sawdust."

You picked up some of the dirt in the car and rubbed your fingers in it. "Where do you think we are?" Jack picked up some dirt, sniffed it then licked his finger, he looked to the side in thought.

"We're near a forest, maybe a lumber yard?" You nodded aggressively.

"That makes sense, the soil is soft and there's easy access. The only thing is there are at least ten in the area." You looked at each other, this would not be easy.

****

"Lum.....rd........lumb....y...d" The radio chirped again, more nonsense.

Sam picked it up this time, "say again" there was a pause and then the voice was a little louder.

"Lumbe......"

Sam shot up and looked over at Cacuzza "The guy who's taken them, does he own any lumber yards?"

Cacuzza shook his head, "I don't know." Sam was going to start hitting the man when Jax cut in.

"Find out shithead."

****

"We're running out of air again"

Jack closed his eyes slowly, before opening them and looking around, "the spare tire in the trunk."

He took the knife off the seat and reached into the back to puncture it, there was a rush of air and a stale smell filled the car, you shrugged, "at least it's something."

"They're not going to make it in time, are they?"

You shook your head and reached for your book, "we should write some things down, just in case." Hodgins reached over a took the bit of paper out of your hands.

"I'm sorry we're in this mess Jack."

You put pen to paper, unsure of where to start.

Dearest Jackson, if you are reading this.....

*****

They had managed to keep the cops at bay until they found Billy's men and your phones on the side of the road, after that, Hale wouldn't leave the Clubhouse.

"If you know where they are we can help." Unser was doing his best to keep Samcrow in the driver's seat, but the feds would soon be getting involved if they didn't find you both by the end of the day.

Cacuzza had been busy with a phone call, hopefully trying to find out where you both were.

"Gallo owns two lumber yards close by, only one is off the highway where the phone was found." Billy was up and moving before anyone else even registered what was going on. Sam picked up the radio to let you know that was going on, not that he knew you'd be able to understand.

****

"..n....ay.....w."

You picked up the radio, "please repeat." There was a beat of silence, then another stutter, "On....y....now." You looked over at jack, so relieved you could cry, it was short-lived.

"We have to let them know we're here, how do we do that? There's got to be miles of cleared land." You looked down, maybe you were going to die here after all.

****

"Pull in here and go down that path." It didn't take them long to get to the lumber yard, when they got off their bikes and walked to the actual grounds it was clear they wouldn't be able to just find you, Sam tried the radio one last time.

*****

"We're here, where are you?"

It was clear as day, you look over at Jack, who looked like he was about to cry, "We can hear you loud and clear."

You pressed the horn, "Can you hear that outside?"

There was silence and then a reply, "No."

"What if we use the explosive charge from the air bag, we're not that far down, it should displace some dirt."

You clapped your hands together, "brilliant Jack, just brilliant."

You scrambled to give him some room, you felt like your head was underwater; you were running out of air again.

"If it doesn't work the force wave is going to kill us."

Jack looked at you then at the steering wheel, "at least it will be faster than running out of air."

****

"Look for changes in the dirt, overturned soil and depressions" Everyone scrambled to their own area of the space, the cops had shown up soon after everyone else had. Billy walked over to Unser and spoke in his ear, no one could hear them but Unser seemed to understand what he was saying.

It was useless, there was no indication that anything had been buried anywhere.

"We have an infrared camera on it's way, they'll have to hold out until then."

Jax rushed up to Hale, "they don't have that long asshole, don't you see how much ground we have to cover? You'd need a helicopter."

****

You had climbed into the back seat with Hodgins, you knew the blast would either get you out of kill you but you knew there was no way the people at the surface would find you without it.

"You ready?" You wrapped you in a hug and then nodded, "whatever happens here today, I want you to know that it's been an honour working with you Dr l/n."

You hugged his back, "the honour was all mine."

Bang

****

Jax saw it out of the corner of his eye, a puff of dirt, "THERE!!!" He ran over before anyone had to chance to register what he had said. Digging as fast as possible, he could feel splinters bare into his skin and then felt his fingers brush something soft. It was your hand, he didn't know where he conjured the strength from, but he managed to pull you out just by your wrist, he could vaguely sense other people around him pulling the dirt aside but all he could focus on was you.

"Jack...you need to get Jack." When he looked over, he could already see the top of the car, so he disobeyed your wishes and pulled you into an embrace.

"I knew you'd find me." He laughed, he couldn't tell whether you were being honest or just relieved you were alive.

"Of course I was going to find you, there's no way I was going to let anything happen to my favourite nerd."

You giggled and lifted a hand to stroke his face, "we really need to get Hodgins to the hospital."

*****

Much to Sam's chagrin, you checked out of the hospital against medical advice. You had just gotten out of the shower when Jax arrived, "how you doing Darlin?"

You waved him in and poured yourself more tea, "would you like some?" He nodded and you got him a cup.

"I'm ok, it's not the first time I've looked at death in the face and laughed. Hodgins will make a full recovery, I'm just pissed at myself that I didn't see it coming." he put a firm hand on your shoulder.

"You're not Wonder Woman y/n. You can't be ready for everything." Your shoulders slumped.

"It's a mob case, I should have seen this coming, I......I almost got one of my best friends and valued teammates killed. This is why I didn't want to work on active cases, it always ends like this." Jax frowned in sympathy.

"Russo said he said was going to talk to the museum about expanding the Anvil's contract, after this, he's pretty sure they'll have to say yes."

This was different from your typical dynamic, you were the one normally doing the soothing.

"Can I come and see Abel tomorrow?" Jax's heart broke at your tone, he didn't want to know what you were thinking about trapped in that car.

"Of course you can." Your resolve was crumping, there was no adrenaline left to keep you standing and you fell against Jackson's chest.

"I thought I was going to die Jax, I thought 'That's it. I've survived wars zone and mass graves only to die in some shit car in the middle of the California woods'."

You let out a pained laugh, Jax pressed you into him, "but you didn't die, you and Hodgins got yourself out and now you're home safe." He felt you nod.

"I think I better head off the bed, I'm going to need to sleep for the next week to recover." Jax huffed at you.

"Good idea, can I come by in the afternoon to check on you?" You nodded and pulled away

"Sure, I'd like that."

Jax fought the urge to fall over on your front steps, there was no doubt in his mind about his feelings for you after today. He loved you, with all his heart. He just didn't know how to tell you.

Part 14

Feedback is always welcome

[avengershumanresources]

blood 12 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 11 - part 13

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist (GUESS WHO FINALLY FIGURED OUT THE PLAYLIST ISSUE)

12 - a memory

You’d been in the tunnels hundreds, if not, thousands of times in your life. There were very few places you were positive you could navigate blindly, but these caves and tunnels? Someone could take away every sense you had and you’d still be able to find your way home. 

It was a little unsettling bringing Loki into your secret place. Very few people knew of the natural caves that fed into manmade tunnels (carved by your ancestor, Richard Stark, when he settled the land). 

In fact, you could only think of four people, including yourself, who could navigate the paths without becoming lost. 

There was you, Natalia (who’d originally shown you), James, and Stephen. 

Not even Peter was privy to the knowledge of these cavernous paths, covered in old magic and fake tunnels. 

The cave system was incredible. It was naturally occurring and if the history you’d dug up with Stephen was accurate, your ancestor had purposely selected the land for that reason. They were enhanced with this very action in mind. 

To reclaim the castle by surprise if an antagonistic force overtook it. 

Stephen once mentioned that history often repeated itself, but you liked to think it was more of a mimicry of the past. Similar, but never the same. 

King Richard Stark the First never dealt with any serious threats to his reign. He lived a long life, had many children with his beloved wife, and died a very old man with his family at his bedside. 

His son, however, King Emil Stark, faced many problems in his short reign. He was nearly murdered by his own brother, but escaped the plot using these very tunnels. 

Later, he took back the castle with regional support and a surprise caravan of soldiers marched through one of the larger sections of the cave system. 

You’d assumed and so had Stephen, when you’d read about the tale, that Richard had only told his eldest son. Why else had he been able to catch the younger brother by surprise? 

But why had Richard only told one son? 

Emil took the knowledge to his grave, but one of the soldiers had a son, who went with his father long after the battle to explore. That son had another son, and so on until one day, a red haired daughter was born. 

That daughter was caught sneaking bread from the kitchens and when you protected her and gave her extra food, she taught you. 

It was a funny thing, time. Cyclical, ever changing, but in the end, the fates would do as they pleased. How these tunnels led Nat into your life. How these tunnels have you freedom to explore and learn the land around you. How these tunnels brought the most important person into your life. 

(—)

The first time you met Stephen Strange, you were sixteen years old. 

By that point, you’d scared off almost every Master who’d passed the threshold of your castle. Some complained you asked too many questions, others tried to restrict knowledge of the dark and dastardly from you, one insisted a princess was to be simple minded and obedient.

That was the last one you’d chased off after casually bringing the fact up during dinner and letting Pepper deal with the rest. 

This was long before Morgan. This was when Peter was still a little boy and you were a girl still trying to figure out your place in a world that didn’t value or respect you.  

The first time you met Stephen Strange was ten days before he was due to arrive, officially.

You hadn’t known it was him at first. He’d been sitting in the woods on a stump, reading a book on local geography when you passed him on your way back to the tunnels that threaded their way through the forest to the castle. You and Natalia had spent the last few years wreaking havoc on the guard, slipping away without a word, only to reappear in a pub later that night. 

You noted the odd fellow, out of place in the massive woods but not entirely unexpected and paused to do a double take. 

“What are you reading?” 

He peered up from his book, a brow quirked in her direction. 

“What?” 

You took a few steps closer. He didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. Though Natalia would later reprimand you for being too trusting of strangers. 

“What are you reading?” you repeated, having read the title and still wondering why someone would spend a beautiful afternoon such as that one, in the forest, alone, reading a book on geography. 

“A book on geography,” he answered, folding the tome half shut and pointing a finger to the cover. “Geo-graph-y.”

He recited the word slowly, as if you couldn’t understand reading or letters. 

“I know what it says,” you huffed, a little indignant at his tone. Did you look like some lowly peasant who couldn’t read? Glancing at your clothes you frowned. A simple frock.

Oh. Maybe you did. 

“Why are you all the way out here?” you asked again, a little irritated when he went back to the book and ignored her. 

“It’s quiet,” he lowered the book again, staring at you over the edge of the pages. “Or rather it was.”

“No one passes through here, usually,” you hummed, glancing around. “It’s a bit depressing though, isn’t it? The trees are blocking all of the sun.”

“I don’t need sunlight,” he stated cryptically and you noted his distinct robes of blue. 

Kamar-Taj. 

“Are you a sorcerer?” you asked, settling across from him on a mossy rock and leaning forward. ��You’re a little young aren’t you?” 

“I’m eighteen,” he shot back sharply. “I’ve been training my whole life. That’s considered more than experienced at this point.”

“So you are a sorcerer,” you confirmed with a sly smirk. “They’re getting a new Master Sorcerer up at the castle soon. Maybe you know him? Master Strange?” 

If he knew the name, he made no indication and instead let out a long sigh, standing and closing his book. 

“Never heard of him,” he replied curtly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He started to move toward one of the paths in the forest, but you caught up to him and followed closely behind. 

“Why were you out here?” you asked curiously, trodding behind in the footprints he left behind. 

“I told you, for peace,” he stated, a little exasperation to his tone. 

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold a Master at the castle for very long, they frowned on questions and maybe Kamar-Taj taught them all to be sticks in the mud. 

“You’re reading a book on geography,” you repeated. “Local geography if I recall?”

Your eyes fell on the book in his hand and he immediately shoved it to his chest, blocking it from view and continuing his path. 

“You’re certainly not from around here,” you continued musing, plucking a flower from a nearby plant and twirling it between your fingers. He stopped and looked over at her. 

“How can you tell?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Your accent is a little off,” you noted with a little chuckle. “It sounds like it’s from the border, where Kamar-Taj is located.”

“I was in Asgard,” he countered and you shrugged. 

“Just to visit I’m sure,” you insisted and he didn’t reply. You twirled the flower again, giving it a small sniff. “I’m betting you were looking for the caves, weren’t you?” 

His irritated expression fell and you walked up, tucking the flower behind his ear and grabbing his wrist. 

“Here’s the thing, I’ve read that book and it’s ridiculously outdated and inaccurate,” you continued, pulling him back the direction you just came. “You see, Richard Stark, the son of Arthur Stark the Conqueror, had this whole region charted when he sought to build his fortress.”

“Yes, and this book is that report,” the boy insisted quickly and you laughed, much to his annoyance. “Why would he have built the castle if the report was inaccurate?”

“There was an accurate report at some point,” you explained, reaching and snatching the book up. You flipped through the pages until you found the section on the cave systems. “There’s a little truth to this, some of the tunnels are accurate but the entrances are all wrong.”

“But given the layout of the land-,” he protested and you shook your head.

“Just follow me,” you led the way past the stump he’d been sitting on toward the mouth of one of the well memorized tunnels into the castle. “They can go on for miles, so you have to be careful.”

“How do you know?” he challenged, sizing you over. 

You paused. The tunnels were a closely guarded secret between you and Natalia, whose late father had passed the knowledge down to her. Aside from the serious security risk, you knew nothing of this boy or his past. So you stayed vague. 

“I’ve explored them a few times,” you answered casually, hopping down into one of the smaller openings and calling for him to follow behind. 

The two of you spent a few hours exploring areas even you hadn’t been familiar with. He pointed out a few magic runes, explaining their meaning as best he could (some were completely foreign to both of you) and not looking too annoyed when you peppered him with questions. 

“Are you noble?” he finally asked when you walked him from the structure back toward the forest. “You’re very well read.”

“I like books,” you answered with a smile. “My father taught me to read at a young age and I never stopped.”

It was a half answer and a full truth, satisfying enough for him because he nodded.

“I’m in town for a few more nights,” he looked hesitant, clearing his throat nervously. “If you’d like to stop by the inn?” 

Excitement sparked in your chest. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you promised, a big grin on your face that was decidedly not very ladylike. “Who should I ask for?” 

“Stephen,” he replied. “Ask for Stephen.”

(—)

“I can feel Amora’s magic,” Loki stated, pausing in the tunnel and looking around. “How certain are you of those wards?” 

Stephen’s hand reached and lightly touched one of the intricately carved runes in the tunnel wall. He paused, his expression moving from its usual frustration in failing to recognize the pattern to surprise. 

“They never faltered when I tried experimenting,” he assured the prince. 

“And many Master Sorcerer’s before you have tried completely sealing the castle,” you added, finally lowering your hood to look between the men. “It’s impossible. The runes are very old magic.”

Loki said something, but you didn’t hear him, instead you were taken by surprise when Stephen turned and flipped the amulet around your neck around to study the runes carved into the back. 

“By the Gods,” he murmured, holding it up to the wall. “It’s seidr.”

You looked between the two symbols. Nearly identical with a few alterations, likely given a difference between the spells, but the base characters were perfect copies. 

“Impossible, seidr was eliminated before this castle was built,” Loki insisted. “My grandfather completed the task and died before Arthur Stark even dreamed of this land.”

“It’d explain why traditional magic can’t touch it,” you pointed out. 

“And why you can navigate the cave system so flawlessly,” Stephen reminded you. “We’ve found wings and sub-tunnels that defy geological principals…”

“Then it’s a promising omen,” Loki stated firmly. “We continue on with our task, remove Amora and reclaim the kingdom.”

(—)

“I can’t stay for long,” you explained a few days after your initial meeting. The ball to celebrate the new sorcerer was that evening and your maid had been nagging you all morning about getting a proper bath and dressing done for the event. 

She’d heard the sorcerer was quite the looker. 

Gods if you cared.

“I’m due to leave tonight as well,” he replied quietly. “I wanted to give you something to remember me.”

He handed you a book, “The Complete History of the Vanir Valley”.

“I might have uh, borrowed it from Kamar-Taj before I left,” he explained sheepishly. “It’s a very good book and it mentions this region and some of the more ancient history involved with it. Given your knowledge of the geography and geology…”

You clutched the book to your chest, absolutely moved by the young man’s kind gesture. Despite only knowing him a little over a week, you’d come to respect and enjoy his company on your adventures. He’d even met Nat, who admitted she enjoyed his sharp wit and jokes- a rare acknowledgment by the hardened thief.

“Do you have to go?” you asked quietly. “There’s so much more to explore…”

“I’m due to report to my next assignment,” he kicked at a nearby stick. “I’ll write. You live near the village? I’ll send a raven when I arrive.”

“I’ll miss you, Stephen,” you mumbled, trying to blink back a few tears. This stupid boy was the first person who hadn’t looked at you and completely rejected your intelligence. He listened and discussed philosophy and magic and history and science and…

He was leaving. 

“Our paths will cross again, I’m sure,” he stated with a curt nod, pausing, unsure what to do with himself. He settled on leaning in and pressing a quick peck to your cheek, his face burning bright red when he pulled away. “Goodbye.”

He murmured your name like a soft prayer before starting back down the pathway toward the village. 

The entire time you knew him, Stephen never admitted if he knew you were the princess the whole time or if it had taken him by surprise as well. 

But the moment you saw him enter the ball room, you had to hold onto a nearby table to stop yourself from tumbling forward in shock. 

Master Stephen Strange. 

“You didn’t tell me you were the new Master,” you challenged, catching him by the elbow once introductions had been made and he was mingling between rounds of dancing. You guided him toward the edge of the room, ignoring the incredulous looks and whispers being shot in your direction.

“You didn’t tell me you were the princess,” he countered, a smirk on his lips, eyes wandering toward the dancers moving across the floor. 

“You already knew, you must have,” you narrowed your gaze suspiciously at him. “‘Our paths will cross again’, that was nonsense then?” 

“Would you like to dance?” he offered an arm, already pulling you toward the dance floor. You relented, continuing to badger him while he hummed and didn’t directly acknowledge your accusations.

“Admit it, you knew!” 

“The roasted duck is incredibly tender, is that a regional recipe or how the ducks are bred?” 

“The cook marinates it for two days,” you answered briefly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Your father mentioned your last Master called you simple?” 

“In so many words.”

“Their loss is my gain, I have a phenomenal collection of books you can read if you’d like.”

“I’m not letting this go,” you started back, asking him about the collection in detail, and eventually, letting it go. 

Your new friend was now your tutor and companion within the walls of the castle, as well as outside of it. 

You weren’t one to tempt the fates too much.

(—)

The path into the castle from where you had entered had three break off points. One lead to the hall by your quarters, the second led to the throne room and the third led down to the kitchens. 

For obvious reasons, the three of you decided on the kitchens, hoping to slip in unnoticed with the general chaos outside the castle. 

Before exiting the security of the tunnel, you paused, fingers drifting over the stone walls, praying their security and strength would somehow leech into you. 

“I didn’t know it was you,” Stephen murmured, leaning into your shoulder while Loki scouted ahead. 

“What?” you blinked up at him. 

“The ball,” he explained quietly. “When I first arrived, you asked if I knew and I didn’t. I was just as surprised as you were.”

Dumbfounded you turned to face him, chests nearly pressed together from the small space. 

“You acted like you had,” you scowled at him. “I was furious for months.”

“I know,” he frowned sympathetically. “But you were so impressed, because truly, you hid it well.”

“Aside from being well read,” you challenged and he shook his head. 

“There are plenty of non-royal nobles who can read a good book,” he countered softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I was transfixed by such a stunning creature with an equally stunning mind. Would you believe me if I said it was love at first sight? I almost turned down the post.”

“Will you two quit it and get a move on?” Loki hissed back into the tunnel. “It’s clear.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Gods, I’m glad I didn’t either.”

(—)

13 - a surprise 

(--)

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[dwaynepride]

the unfortunate case of nonchalance

PART I - WHERE TO START

summary: jethro and his gang arrive to a new town, and they’re surrounded by rich folk. but then, he meets somebody unexpected.

words: 1,855

warnings: female reader

tags: @fairytale07​ @jrenn10​ @f4nboi​ @purplestarsr5​ @ladyzombiielove​ @littlemiss3ma​ @minikate--24-05​ @consultingdoctorwholock​ @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​ @ms-allenbrown​ @ikbenplant​ @dylpickles1267​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​ @pageofultron​ @stanathanxoox​

author’s note: part 1 of a new series. this is actually a part of @thranduilsperkybutt​‘s writing challenge. my prompt was cowboy au + secret relationship trope.

PART II

February 16th, 1889

Well, this is the first opportunity where I’m able to sit and write.

Moving East out of the plains has been damn hard - nobody likes being this close to civilization.

Hell, I hate it. Seen more people on the trail the past two days than we used to see in a whole week, back West. It’s necessary; we all know that. Still, I hear Anthony kickin’ up a fuss whenever we see another caravan.

It ain’t so bad, now that we got a place to settle down. For now, anyway. It’s well-hidden, at least. It’ll do the job until our problems in the West die down, and we can move back.

If we’re lucky, Anthony might take a bullet while we’re out here. Save us all the trouble of keepin’ him reigned in, this time.

Dr. Mallard told me there’s a town nearby. From what I gather, it’s mostly aristocrats and artisans and rich folk who live there. Not the kinda folk we run into often, but the law won’t think to look for us here. Not for a while, at least.

So I’m gonna head into the town tomorrow. Have a look around, see what we’re up against. Anthony wants to come along. Says he wants to start sniffing around, despite my warnings that we’ve got to act like upstanding citizens of the law. It’s too risky to start making trouble.

He says he understands, but I’ll keep my eye on him, just the same.

Tim and Abigail will go along with him. They’re much less rambunctious, so I don’t fear they’ll get into much mischief.

All in all, despite the money that no doubt comes through this town, I predict it will be a very dull place to lie low.

But maybe that’s what we need, right now. There’s been too much excitement, lately.

February 17th, 1889

Just as I thought - this town is full of men and women too concerned with stories and the arts to pay attention to much else. I counted five clothing shops on the way in. And only a single gun store.

I’m not even sure the saloon sells proper bourbon.

Though, Anthony seems to be fitting in, well enough. He can keep a pleasant conversation with any rich man he meets - a skill I scarcely care enough to learn. But I suppose it was a good choice to bring him along-

The journal is knocked from Jethro’s hands as someone slams against his shoulder from behind. It falls to the dirt, as does the bags of the person who’d knocked into Jethro. And even though his journal was knocked clean out of his hands, Jethro himself wasn’t much bothered. Because the collision barely moved him and it seems like whoever just bumped into him is suffering more of the consequences.

“I’m very sorry!” A voice says hurriedly. A womanly voice that wasn’t so prim and proper as the other women of this high-end town.

Jethro bends over to collect her bags - brand new, apart from the new dirt stains received from the collision. And the woman picks up his leather-bound journal; thankfully, it had landed shut.

They both straighten up, and Jethro instantly meets your eyes for the first time. Very pretty, he notices, if a little guilty for all the trouble you’ve caused. Dainty little strands of hair fall into your face, and the dress you wear is much too expensive for Jethro to ever be able to buy. And yet, you wears it so simply. He can’t tell if you’re just so rich that this dress is meaningless, or if you purely don’t care.

You speak, and Jethro’s eyes blink once. “Pardon me?”

A small laugh comes from you; light and nervous. “I said I was sorry. For bumping into you, like I did. I suppose I wasn’t watching where I was going. I can be a real clutz, you see.”

You still hold his journal with two hands. Fingers drum against the leather. He huffs and shakes his head. “No, ma’am. The fault is mine for not anticipating your arrival,” Jethro says simply.

And he hadn’t meant it as a joke. It was a simple fact, told in his deadpan way. Still, the nervous look on your face shifts into a wide smile. You’re laughing; light and happy and in a way Jethro wasn’t quite expecting. “Perhaps you’re right,” you say. And when Jethro hands your bags over, you gives him the journal back.

“Are you a writer?”

He’s dusting off the leather, barely listening to your question. “A writer?” He echoes.

“You know, a storyteller.” When Jethro glances back up, you motion to the journal. “I do enjoy a good story. And you seemed rather lost in whatever you were writing.”

Your eyes....your eyes held a sort of enraptured curiosity that Jethro himself hasn’t had in a long time. The type of curiosity that has you questioning a stranger with a journal because they may be a fascinating person. But he was just a man; just Jethro. And your words prompts a light smirk to his face. “Do I strike you as the type to entertain others, ma’am?”

You pauses. Shrug your shoulders as your emboldened smile softens into a smirk. You must smile a lot, he thinks. “Perhaps. I’ve only known you a minute, and you’re already more interesting than many of the men in this town. That’s quite an achievement, Mr....”

Jethro hesitates. He knew coming into this town that he didn’t want to give out his name very willingly. Maybe the law will recognize it and that would cause more trouble than he wants to deal with.

And yet, what harm could this woman do? A woman so soft and sheltered, she mistakes this rough cowboy for a city-dwelling storyteller.

“Gibbs,” he finally answers.

He sticks out his hand, and you smile while taking it. Jethro hears, loud and clear, when you tells him your name. And he hasn’t the mind to notice how soft the skin of your palm is. Your last name - it’s so familiar.

Familiar, as he’s seen it printed over almost every store and shop in this town.

So he gives a slow nod, releasing your hand. “I did not realize I was talking with a celebrity,” Jethro teases. And he expects some pushback from that little jab - women always seem to dislike his brand of sarcasm. They call him rude, and they may be right.

Instead, you grips your bags tighter. Jethro catches a bit of pink in your cheeks, and it makes his stomach tight with no good reason. “My father owns many of the stores in this town. It’s not a fact I share with others, Mr. Gibbs. I feel as though it causes people to treat me different - as though my opinion of them may sway them to my father’s favor.”

Seems like a hard life, Jethro jokingly thinks to himself.

Seems easier to have fake friends than government agents following you across three states.

Jethro stuffs his journal into his coat pocket before looking back to you, bobbing his head with a smirk. “Trust me, ma’am; I will treat you no different than I would any other woman,” he vows. And he’s mostly serious.

You smile again. And even giggle, this time. It’s a nice sound and even after Jethro tells himself to be polite to the daughter of the town’s most powerful man, he finds he doesn’t have to try very hard. You’re nothing like the other people Jethro has encountered in this god-forsaken town.

Maybe because when you look at him, Jethro doesn’t feel like the dirty old cowboy he knows he looks like to everyone else.

His thoughts are cut short by your cross little sigh. “I’m afraid I must go now. I’m expected back home soon,” you tell him regretfully.

Your reluctance was painfully visible, and Jethro is determined not to show his own. Besides, he wasn’t here to make a friend or charm a lady; no matter how pretty she may be. “Then I’ll save you the burden of a long-winded goodbye. I hope you have a good day,” Jethro tells her.

After giving you a single nod, he turns away. Takes several steps toward the saloon - that’s where Jethro reckons Anthony might be, anyway. Following some poor rich bastard in there to get him drunk and pick his pockets. And he thinks he’s about to make a clean getaway.

But your voice calls out. Calls his name in a way that makes Jethro’s feet freeze in their tracks. He almost doesn’t turn, but his head is arching over his shoulder anyway. Watching as you smile and waves him goodbye. “I hope to see you around! Perhaps one day, you’ll let me read the story you’re writing.”

That makes Jethro scoff, but he says nothing as you continue on your way. That expensive dress of yours even has some mud stains from where your shoes kick it up, but your don’t really seem to care.

And as you disappear around the corner, he shakes his head. Such an unforeseen encounter in a town where Jethro only expected to find uppity, rich men and women. And for the daughter of the town’s patriarch, no less, to completely shatter his expectations - well, Jethro found himself wondering if he really would see you again.

His thoughts are broken when Jethro hears a familiar voice calling out. Shaking out of his reverie, his head swivels around until finding the voice’s owner. Anthony’s hand waves in the air, and he starts jogging over.

Jethro can’t help but glance back to where you disappeared from.

But the Italian stops beside Jethro, wearing a big grin that usually gave him a bad feeling. “Afternoon, boss,” Anthony greets.

Jethro only grunts, and as he starts walking, his friend falls into step beside him. “Have fun screwing around?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t screwing around. Just the opposite, in fact.” Anthony suddenly steps closer, shoulder to shoulder with Jethro. Aware of the prying eyes and nosy aristocrats eager for gossip. “I think I figured out a way to rustle up some money,” Anthony says lowly.

Jethro scoffs, face forming a frown that Anthony can hardly see under the brim of his hat. Though, he’s already well acquainted with his leader’s sourest faces. “This idea of yours legal, Anthony?”

“Strictly speaking? Not really.”

Great.

“That’s never stopped us before, though.”

No, Jethro answers reluctantly. It hasn’t. And that’s what pushed them away from the West and everything they’ve worked for. Because of those less-than-legal schemes.

And hearing Anthony suggest a whole new one, in a town where nobody knows their checkered past...well, Jethro has a pretty wide pit in his stomach. Deep, aching; familiar in a way that has him thinking about the past. Has him thinking about what led to Shannon’s death, all those years ago.

Glancing to Anthony, and seeing how excited he looks about his dangerous plan, Jethro just starts thinking about the girl who thought him a storyteller.

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 39: The Denial

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1205

Warnings: Intense grieving, mentions of counselling, light angst, fluff near the end.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope that you guys like it too!

“Again, baby?”

Y/N turned around at the sound of her husband’s sympathy-filled voice, quietly sighing to herself.

“‘Again’ what?” She questioned before turning back to the books that she was sorting, pulling one out of the shelf and glancing at the cover before placing it in a completely new spot.

The problem wasn’t that she was sorting some books. In fact, Steve was glad when she was productive at all these days. The problem was who the books that she was sorting belonged to.

“You’re doing it again, sweetheart.” The man stated, kneeling down on the ground next to where she was sitting cross-legged. “You’re going through A.J.’s stuff.”

Y/N gulped, eyes focused on the book shelf in front of her, not wanting to face him. She’d probably tear up if she did. “And?”

“And,” Steve placed a comforting hand on her back, “we’ve talked about this, doll. With the counsellor. Remember?”

“Y-Yeah, I remember.”

Not that they were exactly fond memories. Every single time that she and Steve had met with the counsellor, it had ended up with Y/N bawling her eyes out and the man trying to hide his own few tears in hopes to stay strong for her. If his wife needed an anchor at the moment, he was more than willing to put his own feelings aside to help her.

Steve had already felt bad enough for the girl, watching every couple weeks as she’d wander into baby Anthony’s old nursery, making an excuse of wanting to clean one thing or organize another.

This had been going on for the entire year that it had been since Thanos’ snap, and the man was running out of ways to help her. He knew that visiting A.J.’s room was a form of comfort for his wife, but the counsellor had made it very clear that it was not good for her overall mental health. Steve wasn’t just going to sit back and watch Y/N pain herself like that.

“You remember what Dr. Sawyer said?” He questioned, watching as she fiddled with her fingers. “About how you spending too much time in here is only making it harder for you to let go?”

The actress, well, former actress due to her pregnancy leave turning itself into a mental health leave, sniffled. “Steve, I-I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever let go. At least being in here numbs the pain... even if only temporarily.” She felt him wrap his arm completely around her, trying to pull her closer into his side and she complied. “Th-This room. It just sits here... useless, empty. A-And I don’t know, it just calls to me, I guess. I’m constantly feeling like I should be in here, getting things ready for him. I-It’s like my brain is trying to trick myself into believing that he’s still here or something.” Y/N sniffled again, lightly chucking with it too. “God, I just sound crazy, don’t I?”

Steve firmly shook his head. “Not crazy at all, baby. I swear.”

The girl scoffed at his words. “Oh please, I’m literally delusional.”

“No, you’re not.” He stated, taking her chin in his hand and turning her to look at him. “You’re not delusional, you’re not crazy, you’re not any of that.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, smiling internally when she leaned into his touch. “Look, sweetie, you know what I see? I see a mother who just lost her little boy and is trying to cope with it the best that she can.”

Y/N nodded, feeling tears begin to well up in her eyes. She just couldn’t help it; one mention of A.J. and she would melt down into a puddle. “I-I am trying. I really, really am. I-It’s just that it’s so hard.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Steve reassured, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You’re doing so good, my love. You’re doing so good.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling again. “I just don’t know what to do anymore; what to do next.”

“Well you know, uh,” the man cleared this throat, “there’s been this thing that I’ve been wanting to mention to you for a while. I’ve been looking for the right time to tell you, and I finally think that time is now.”

Y/N was tilted her head to the side in curiosity. “What is it?”

“I think that we should move out of here.” He stated, a smile beginning to slowly creep up on his face. “Get our own house, somewhere miles away from this Compound.”

“A-Are you serious?” Y/N questioned.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I am. I think that it would be really, really good for us. This building brings a lot of bad memories and a lot of heartache. We should distance ourselves; get you out of this room.” He motioned to the baby blue walls surrounding them.

“B-But what about the team?” The girl asked, not wanting her husband to make a decision that he would regret. “What if something happens one day and they need you?”

“Then they can give me a call.” He told her, grasping both of her hands in his own and pulling her up to stand with him. “They’ll know where to find me, and we can visit Nat here sometimes too. None of that really matters. I just want you to be happy.”

“Steve,” she gave him a grateful smile, “this is all very sweet, but I really don’t want to be your charity case. I don’t want to ask you to uproot your life just because you feel bad for me.”

“Baby, please, please know that-that’s not it.” The man insisted. “I want to do this because I love you and I care about you. I want to help you, doll. Please let me do so. It’s the least that I can do after... ya’ know.” He looked at her pleadingly. “Come on, N/N. Whattaya’ say?”

Y/N gulped, staring at her feet before slowly lifting her eyes to meet his own. “Okay.”

Steve paused, making sure that he had actually just heard her correctly. “R-Really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N gave him a small shrug, slightly beginning to grin. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. It probably would be really good for us.”

The man’s smile suddenly matched her own. “Awesome, sweetheart. I’m so glad you said yes.” He wrapped his hands around her waist, wanting her to come closer to his chest. “C’mere.”

At his request Y/N stepped farther into his arms, humming out of pure joy at the warm feeling of his hug. “We’re getting a home.” She spoke into the crook of his neck, smiling giddily to herself.

Steve, just as excited, chuckled in response. “Yeah, princess. We’re gettin’ a home.”

“A fresh start.” She stated, feeling so content in the moment that she closed her eyes, letting herself melt further and further into his embrace.

The man let out a small sigh of relief, happy that she was allowing him to help her. Even if it was only in the slightest of ways, he was thankful to have the chance to try and redeem himself. He’d make sure that he did; not matter how long it took. “A fresh start.”

Next Chapter

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[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 47

After a long day of therapy with only breaks to use the bathroom or eat and a break before lunch to work out on a cycling machine, Angel finally was allowed to go to bed.

Angel had spent the whole day pretending to watch porn.  Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been considered a good day, but since Angel had spent the whole day thinking, he was relieved to finally get to rest his brain.

Of course, Doctor Red was there to make sure Angel complied to all his rules, including what he had to wear to bed.

Just as before, Angel complied to all the rules.  Once he had brushed his teeth, dressed in his white undershirt and gray boxers, taken a sleeping pill, and used the bathroom a final time, Angel let the gargoyle demon to strap him to his bed, cover him with heavy blankets to keep him warm in the cold room, and pull up a stool next to his bed so that he could brainwash him with a final bedtime story.

Angel felt exhausted and beyond humiliated.  All day and all evening, Doctor Red had been infantilizing him in every way imaginable as a “way to make up for the attention his father never gave him.”

The spider demon had complied the best he could, but the effort it took for him to hold his tongue and keep a straight face while he planned was draining, even with the medicine inside him to keep him calm.

It was Angel could do to keep a straight face while Doctor Red read him his disturbing anti-gay propaganda.

“And the gay witch burned at the stake and all her victims lived happily ever after,” Dr. Red read, before dramatically closing his book.  “The End!”

Angel let out pretend moan of pain to gain the doctor’s sympathy.

“Oh, Anthony, what’s the matter?  Why so blue?” Dr. Red said, gently rubbing his stony fingers through Angel’s hair.  “You won’t be burned at the stake.  You’re going to be straight in no time.  You’ll see.”

Angel merely replied with another fake moan.

“Just have faith, my good boy,” Dr. Red replied just as he looked down at his watch.  “Oh, it’s getting late.  It’s almost 8:30.  It’s time for me to eat dinner with your father and time for you to go to sleep.”

The gargoyle smiled, ruffling Angel’s hair a final time before picking up his stool and carrying it out of the room.

Angel remained still and expertly maintained his catatonic expression.

“Alright, Anthony,” Dr. Red said as he pulled the blankets more evenly over Angel’s restrained body.  “Your sleeping pill should take effect in an hour.  Sleep tight.  I’ll be back for you in the morning…”

Kiss.

Dr. Red kissed Angel on his forehead.  It felt like he was a toddler getting tucked into bed.

Angel was so surprised he almost lost his composure, but the gargoyle made his way back to the door and turned out the light without missing a beat.

“Goodnight, Anthony,” Dr. Red said softly with his ruby eyes sparkling to reflect the light outside the room.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, doctor,” Angel replied as emotionlessly as he could muster.

The good doctor shut the bedroom door, made his way up the stone stairs, and exited the basement.

No sooner had Dr. Red left the basement than did Angel unleash his third pair of arms and vigorously wipe the kiss away.

Angel sighed and laid back on the bed, basking in the irony.  He was rejecting kisses from men.  Maybe he was becoming straight after all.

Angel breathed another deep sigh and settled back under his covers to enjoy a long night of sleep.

He relaxed that way for a few minutes until the air conditioner shut off.

Then Angel heard a familiar voice echoing through the vent, “You call this shit food?!  Why don’t ya let me outta here so I can really give ya something to feast on…Oh, yeah?!  If ya fuckin’ hurt Angel, I’m gonna come after ya after I finish off Sir Pentious tomorrow!”

Angel knew that sassy voice anywhere.

“Cherri!” Angel practically screamed.

In less than a minute, Angel loosened all his straps and ran over to the vent grating.

“Cherri!” Angel called through the vent with a smile of relief.  “Cherri, are you there?!”

“Angie?!” Cherri asked from the other side of the vent.  “Angie, is that you?!”

“Yeah,” Angel said with a sigh of relief.  “Thank God!  I thought they would have sent ya back to Sir Pentious already.”

“That ain’t happenin’ till tomorrow,” Cherri replied.  “I’ve been here since last night.  But never mind me, how are you?!  Are you okay?!  I thought I heard ya screamin’ earlier.  What have they done to ya?”

“They gave me electroshock therapy earlier when I was putting up a fight, but besides that, not too much,” Angel said with a slight chuckle.  “They gave me drugs and made me watch porn after that.  Then, after he strapped me into bed, Doctor Red read me a bizarre homophobic bedtime story.  They’re doing everything they can to turn me straight.

“Holy fuck, Angel,” Cherri replied anxiously.  “How can you be so calm about this?  They’re really tryin’ to mess you up.”

“Blame the anti-anxiety medication Doctor Red made me take,” Angel replied.  “What has been happening with you?  My Dad and brother told me what happened between you guys, Charlie, Alastor, and them, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened after that.”  

“After your Dad dropped off Alastor and Vaggie at his mansion, he drove to Molly’s apartment and forced her out of the car.  She was furious.  The poor thing tried to chase down the car, but your Dad drove like a bat out of hell and lost her pretty easily,” Cherri explained.  “I would have helped, but I was restrained with a straitjacket and your unconscious body…”

“Sorry about that,” Angel interrupted.

“No problem,” Cherri replied before continuing.  “Your family brought me here, removed the straitjacket, and shoved me in this stupid room with its stupid bombproof doors, windows, and walls.  They’ve kept me here all day and have only entered the room to give me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint.  Apparently, Sir Pentious isn’t going to be ready for me until tomorrow.”

“Goddammit, Cherri,” Angel said with angry tears at the corner of his eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault, Angie,” Cherri said sarcastically.  “Besides keeping me locked in an empty guest room with only a mattress on the floor and giving me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint, they’ve been pretty nice to me.  Except for your brother.  He offered me freedom in exchange for certain favors.”

Angel busted out laughing and replied, “My libido-less brother tried to get you to sleep with him?!”

“I swear to God.  I’m being completely serious, Angie,” Cherri said with a chuckle.  “After they tossed me in here, your brother showed up around an hour later wearing heavy cologne and holding a bottle of champagne and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in exchange for freedom…”

“And?” Angel asked curiously.

“I threw a smoke bomb in his face,” Cherri said with a proud smirk in her voice.  “That got him out of my hair really quick.”

Angel chuckled out loud and said, “That little shit.  I’m so sorry, Cher.”

“Don’t be, dude,” Cherri said reassuringly.  “This room ain’t all bad.  It has a bathroom with magazines in it.  I got to have a bath and wash my underwear and sock.  Your Dad said this was a guest room they had renovated and hadn’t moved the furniture into yet, but that is bullshit.  What kind of guestroom has bombproof walls, windows, and doors?”

“You’d be surprised with our line of work,” Angel replied.  “But besides that, they’ve been treating you well?”

“Yeah, but never mind about me, Angie,” Cherri said, her tone shifting back to serious.  “What about you?  They’ve been trying to brainwash you all day to turn you straight!  Jesus, man, that is really fucked up!”

“Yep, my therapist Doctor Red is a real piece of work, too,” Angel said.  “God sent him to Hell for for doing this shit to other people and he thinks it was because he failed to convert anyone.  He's gullible as hell though.”

“What do ya mean by that?” Cherri asked.

“Let me put it this way,” Angel explained.  “Doctor Red thinks he can fix me, and I’m just playing him into my hands.”

“I gotcha,” Cherri replied.

“The plan was to have a meal with my father and brother before they went to Alastor’s wedding if I behave for the week,” Angel explained.  “Then, when the end of the week comes, I take the opportunity to bust outta here and run to the wedding to save Vaggie.  That was the plan anyway.  Now, I gotta help you.”

“Aw, you don’t need to worry about me, Angie,” Cherri said.  “I can break out of Edgelord’s place easily.”

“Cherri, I ain’t leaving you with Sir Pentious,” Angel protested.

“Angie, you don’t need to worry about…” Cherri tried to protest back.

Angel quickly cut her off, “Cherri, listen to me!  Sir Pentious is an over-ambitious, incompetent simp, but you and I both know he is still strong enough, smart enough, and dangerous enough to be a threat to you and most other demons.  If Sir Pentious didn’t take you right away, that means he is setting up something special to deal with ya.  You couldn’t take him on alone before and I doubt you’d be able to this time.  I am not letting that happen and that’s final.”

Cherri sighed loudly and said, “I know there’s no changing your mind, ya overprotective nut, but what are we gonna do?  Sir Pentious will be here to take me tomorrow, you’re gonna be tortured in the basement, and I’ll have to fight a legion of your family members alone.  I don’t even have a hope of breaking out of here before then with this fucking bombproof room.  God, I should have just said yes to your brother.  If your Dad thought we were a couple, I would have been allowed to stay.”

A lightbulb went off in Angel’s head.

“That’s it,” Angel said.

“What?” Cherri asked.  “What’s your plan, Angie?”

Angel sighed deeply and said, “I know you ain’t gonna like this, but how about we get married?”

“What?!” Cherri asked incredulously.

“Hear me out,” Angel explained.  “If I pretend that I’m madly in love with ya, Dr. Red and my family will be inclined to keep you around to spend time with me to aid in turning me straight.  Then when I’m finally let outta here to spend time with my family, they’ll let you out, too.  Understand?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Cherri said with a smile in her voice.

“All you gotta do is pretend to like me back,” Angel added.  “Do you think you can do that?”

“Ugh,” Cherri groaned.  “You’re like my older brother.  This is gonna be so weird.”

“Cherri…” Angel pleaded.

“Alright,” Cherri agreed with another groan.  “I ain’t no actor like you are, but I’ll try my best.”

“Just follow my lead, baby girl…” Angel said just as a sudden noise got his attention.

It was the sound of the cellar door opening.

“Shit,” Angel muttered to himself.

“Angie, what’s the matter?” Cherri asked in concern.

“The doc’s back, gotta go!” Angel replied in a rush.

Without waiting for a reply, Angel quickly hopped back into his bed and reshackled himself.  He then made his third pair of arms disappear and shut his eyes.

Thankfully, the doctor reached the bottom of the stairs without taking any notice of any noise.

As soon as Dr. Red walked past his door, Angel tossed and turned as loudly as he could while keeping his eyes shut and began calling Cherri’s name.

“Cherri!” Angel called out while dramatically tossing himself to one side of the bed and then the other.  “Cherri!”

Angel heard Doctor Red opening the door to his room and asking himself, “What in the world is this?”

Angel smiled internally and kept up his performance.

“Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!”

Angel kept his eyes shut and continued calling Cherri’s name repeatedly while Doctor Red took notes on his note pad.

“Interesting,” Doctor Red muttered in a pleased tone.

Suddenly, another voice called out from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, doc!” Arackniss’s voice called.  “Have you found your notes yet?  The Don’s waiting for ya!  What’s goin’ on?”

“An interesting development,” Dr. Red said gleefully.  “You must come and see!”

Angel didn’t hear a response over his own cries, but he heard his brother walk down the stone stairs.

“What’s going on?” Arackniss asked.  “What’s Anthony doing?”

“He’s calling a woman’s name in his sleep,” Dr. Red said excitedly.  “Please observe.”

The pair were silent while Angel continued pretending to sleep and call Cherri’s name.

Arackniss scoffed and said, “Oh, he’s calling for his gal pal, Cherri Bomb.”

“Cherri Bomb?” Dr. Red asked.  “Oh, right!  The kingpin who tried to help Anthony and Alastor’s fiancée run away.”

At this point, Angel ceased yelling Cherri’s name and pretended to settle back down so that he could listen to the conversation.

“The very one,” Arackniss replied.  “She’s locked in the guest room on the first floor.  We’re selling her to her rival Sir Pentious tomorrow in exchange for weapons.  Anthony hasn’t seen her since that night, so he’s probably just worried about her.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Red said writing more notes in his notebook.  “Have they known each other long?”

“Anthony’s helped her with her turf wars for about 40 years from what I’ve gathered,” Arackniss said.  “From what I’ve heard, they’re pretty close.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Red said.  “40 years is more than long enough to develop a romantic attraction.  It seems that the treatment is working faster than we thought.  My scientific opinion is that Anthony is developing a longing for this demoness.”

Arackniss snickered under his breath and said, “After only a day of therapy?  There’s no way.  She and Anthony are only friends.”

“Don’t be so sure, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said confidently.  “Perhaps your brother and Cherri were only friends, but I’ve found that often in pursuing homosexual relations a patient might be suppressing desire for a heterosexual partner.  Now that we’re pushing away the homosexual attractions, the suppressed attraction to his female friend.  Oh, this is so exciting.  I must get this demoness involved in the therapy.”

“How do ya plan on doing that?” Arackniss asked.

“Gradually, of course,” Dr. Red replied.  “We mustn’t throw Anthony into it.  We must ease him into the heterosexual relationship like a glove.”

“I still don’t know about your theory but easing Anthony into a heterosexual doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Arackniss said, making a puffing noise that let Angel know that he was puffing on a cigarette.  “So, what do we do first?”

“First, we must discuss this with your father,” Dr. Red replied.

Arackniss and Dr. Red then shut the door and headed upstairs.  Angel waited until the moment he heard them both shut the door to the basement before he unstrapped himself and dashed back to the vent.

Angel reached the vent and said, “Cherri?!”

“Angie?!  What happened?!” Cherri replied concernedly.

“Dr. Red came down to retrieve his notes, so I started crying out your name,” Angel said with a smirk.  “He came in to watch me, called my brother down, and now, they’re going to talk to my Dad to get you integrated into my therapy.”

“Hot damn, Angel Dust,” Cherri Bomb said with a proud scoff.  “How’d you pull it off?”

“Thank my 50 years of acting, sugar tits,” Angel bragged.  “Dr. Red is now convinced that you’re my repressed crush.  My brother ain’t convinced, but it doesn’t matter.  Either way, you ain’t going nowhere.”

“Holy shit,” Cherri said.  “You never cease to amaze me, Angel.  I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it, Cher,” Angel said.  “Now, we just gotta act our way out of here.”

“Oh, God,” Cherri said in a sudden panic.

“What’s the matter?” Angel asked.

“Do you think they’ll make us have sex while they watch?” Cherri asked.

Angel paused for a moment and said, “Oh, God.  I didn’t think of that.”

Just then, Cherri heard some hands fiddling with the locks outside her door.

“Angie, they’re here, talk to ya later,” Cherri muttered out in a hurry before she zipped back to her mattress and curled up into a fetal position, pretending to be asleep.

Arackniss pushed open the door, and Dr. Red flicked on the lights and entered the room.

“Doc, what are you doing?  You’re gonna wake her up,” Arackniss protested in a whisper.  “We put her in the bombproof room for a reason, you know.”

Dr. Red ignored Arackniss and continued to look around the room and grimace at the conditions.

“Doc,” Arackniss whispered again.

“I heard you the first time, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said.  “I know very well what Miss Cherri Bomb is capable of.  I do not intend to wake her.  I only intend to make observations...”

Dr. Red took a moment to look at Cherri and continued, “Cherri Bomb is a scrawny little thing, but she is pretty.  She looks cold and hungry though.  You must improve these conditions.  A man who falls in love must be comfortable.”

Arackniss sighed out his cigarette smoke and said, “I suppose we can add some blankets in here.”

“That’s not enough, Arackniss,” Dr. Red chided.  “You need to furnish the room, give her proper beauty products, give her books to read, and clothes to change into.  You need to feed her better as well.  Women are delicate creatures, Arackniss.  You need to take care of them.”

“If you’re sure,” Arackniss replied skeptically.

“Of course, I’m sure,” Dr. Red retorted.  “I used to give courting advice, you know.  Now, we must go speak to your father, but for tonight, fetch Miss Cherri Bomb some blankets to put her in a more pleased mood.”

Arackniss grumbled, “Very well.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Dr. Red asked.  “Hop to it.”

“Hey,” Arackniss protested.  “Watch your tone, doc.  We’re employing you.”

“And your father told you to do whatever I asked,” Dr. Red quipped.  “Now, go.”

Arackniss silently stewed for a moment before he rolled his eyes and left the room to find the blankets.

While Arackniss was looking for the blankets, Dr. Red sat down on the mattress next to Cherri’s sleeping form.  Cherri felt him sit down next to her, but she managed to maintain her relaxed composure.

That was until Dr. Red started stroking her hip.

Cherri made a yelp of dislike and twitched her leg away.

“Oh, dear,” Dr. Red said apologetically taking his hand away.  “I’m so sorry, love.  I didn’t mean to wake you.  Go back to sleep.”

Cherri turned over to the side of the mattress facing away from the doctor and pretended to try to go back to sleep.

Fortunately, just then, Arackniss entered the room with a stack of blankets and a pillow.

“I’m back,” Arackniss announced.

“Good,” Dr. Red replied taking the pillow out of his hands.  “Now, let’s get her more comfortable.”

Dr. Red gently lifted Cherri’s head and placed a pillow under it while Arackniss covered her body with the blankets.

Once the blankets covered her form, Cherri pretended to relax in her pretend sleep.

As Dr. Red shut out the lights and left the room, he said, “She’s a good one.  I can tell.  Miss Cherri Bomb is extremely sensitive to the touch of a man.”

Arackniss groaned jealously as he left the room and shut and locked the door behind him.

Once she was sure they had gone, Cherri zipped back to the vent to explain what had happened to an anxiously waiting Angel.

The pair shared a few laughs and discussed some more details of their plan before they finally parted for the night and went to sleep.

[survivingthejungle]

soft; jerome x reader

ive never written anything this fluffy in my god damn life... hopefully its not a complete flop? idk

You hadn’t committed a crime.

Regardless of whatever conclusion the jury had come to, you would always maintain that you hadn’t committed a crime. Because, what crime is there in justice?

One of the men who had tried to assault you had just been a little too lazy with his knife, and in a moment of instinctual self-defence, you had pushed it back in on himself.

Unfortunately for you, the other man—the one who hadn’t been stabbed—had managed to pay off the jury to convict you of first degree murder, and the only way you would avoid going to straight-up prison would be taking the insanity plea.

You fought it—oh, how you fought it, tooth-and-nail— but in the end, you and your family didn’t have the resources, and the corrupt rich of Gotham once again won the day. The playout of your hearing had caused outrage throughout the city, and no one believed that you deserved to go to an asylum, but the public backlash surrounding your conviction still was not enough to get the decision overturned.

Some of the staff at Arkham were sympathetic to your case and did all they could to treat you like the normal girl you were, not like one of the truly mentally-ill patients who were there for good reason. Of course, not every staff member was this accommodating— Dr. Strange had been wanting to use you as an guinea pig for a while now. The only thing keeping him from doing so was your family’s constant visits and the fact that he couldn’t be sure that the nurses and guards who knew you and your story wouldn’t rebel against him.

About a month into your incarceration— one down, two to go— there was a change in atmosphere. An unusual burst of activity came about one morning; while you were in your cell, brushing your teeth and washing your face, a handful of guards all stormed past, seemingly guiding someone along with them. You peeked out of the small window on your door, but couldn’t see much aside from the guards and a quick flash of a tuft of bright red hair.

-

To ensure that your safety was never compromised and that all of the staff knew you were no real threat, it had been decided within the Asylum that you were not to wear the same black-and-white striped garments as all of the other inmates. Instead, you had been given a handful of simple, white cotton slips, and you had been allowed to bring some of your own sweaters, shoes, and socks from home. You had been allowed your own pajamas from home, so you decided to bring two pairs of basketball shots, two t-shirts, and a big sweatshirt to sleep in. In addition, yo also brought a handful of your favorite scrunchies and hair clips, and a notebook and pen to keep track of your thoughts and write letters while you were away. To say you stood out like a sore thumb would be an understatement; you didn’t look exactly like an inmate, you certainly didn’t look like staff, and you didn’t look like a normal teenage girl either. You just looked different, and you were okay with that. You were content just keeping to yourself, minding your own business, writing and reading when you had the opportunity, and getting the hell out of this asylum.

Until recently. A new inmate had recently been admitted; around your age, tall, vivid red hair, an unnerving laugh, and arrested on a count of matricide. When they brought him in, he was strapped up in a straight jacket and being wheeled around. He caught sight of you in the rec room and winked, and you, being caught in a trance-like daze, had simply lifted your hand and waved with a straight face. It didn’t help that he was an objectively attractive guy; if you had seen him anywhere outside of an asylum, you probably would’ve heart-eyed him with your friends. But you were in an asylum, the both of you, so you decided to maintain your earlier resolve of keeping to yourself and not interacting with anyone else.

-

The next day, you saw him come into the rec room. You were sitting in an old, worn-out bean bag reading one of the old hand-me-down books from a shelf in the corner. It was Madame Bovary, a title you’d heard repeated many times but never really looked into until now. You were halfway through and so engrossed with the tragic story that you didn’t notice a presence seat itself beside you until you heard a voice speaking.

“Hi gorgeous, I’m Jerome.” It was the redhead from yesterday, grinning at you.

“Hi. That’s not my name,” you responded, pulling your eyes away from him and back to your book.

“Well then, by all means, spill! What can I call you?” His voice was deep but had a childlike lilt, like everything he said was purposefully over-theatrical. He placed his chin on his fist, staring intently at you.

“My name is (Y/N). I don’t really wanna talk to anyone right now, so can you just leave me alone?”

“Jeez, just trying to be polite… Y’know, a girl could really use some friends in a place like this.”

“No, not really. I’m fine how I am. Thanks, though.”

He paused and looked at you quizzically as though he had just noticed something that he hadn’t before. “Hey, how come you don’t wear stripes like the rest of us, huh?”

“Because I’m not like the rest of you. I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“Ugh, believe me, babe, I tried that line too. Didn’t work. C’mon, what’d you do to get in here? Now I’m curious,” he prodded.

You were silent for a moment. Some people had no problem admitting that they had done something like that; in fact, some reveled in it. But you were not the kind of girl who could just openly declare that I killed a man. “...It was self defense.”

“Oh yeah,” he lightly scoffed, “Then how’d you end up here, and not scot-free out there?”

“This is Gotham,” you shot back, “There’s no justice in this city. If a rich man wants a girl locked up, she gets locked up. End of story.”

“Ain’t that the truth, sister.” He let out a sigh and leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “Tell me something, though,” he started, staring at you. “Are you being serious?”

“You tell me… I’m already in an asylum. If I was really guilty, I would’ve admitted it by now, right?”

“Huh.” He shook his head, looking away from you. “Huh. You got me there. Well… that sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

“You’re telling me; I’m the one wrongly incarcerated.”

“Hey! That’s perfect! So you really do need a friend in this place, otherwise all the rest of these crazies are gonna eat you up…” he got closer to you before continuing. “Y’know, it’s really not safe for you here if you’re the only sane person. I think we should be friends.”

“If it gets you off my case, then sure, I guess.” A grin lit up his face and he leaned back out of your personal space; he did not, however, show any signs of leaving you alone anytime soon. “Will you leave me alone now, please?” you asked.

“What kind of a friend would I be, leaving you alone out here to fend for yourself? Nah, see, these other guys in here, they’ll do bad things to a pretty girl if she’s all alone. I’m just looking out for you.”

You considered his words for a moment. Although no one had truly tried to harm you yet, you hadn’t been here long. And some of the creepier inmates had been staring you down recently, now that you thought about it… “I’m not gonna, like… talk to you, a lot. I just read a lot. And write. And draw, sometimes. But I’m not a big conversationalist. So if that’s what you wanted from me, you got the wrong girl.”

“Hey, that’s fine by me,” he responded. “You just sit there and look pretty till you get to go home. I’ll be your silent protector.”

Not very silent, you thought. “Why… why do you even wanna be my friend, then? If you’re not looking for someone to talk to… You just wanna ‘help me out’? You’re a wannabe serial killer, you don’t really seem like the kind of guy who tries to help a girl out of the goodness of his heart.”

“What can I say?” he asked you. “I can be unpredictable. And you seemed kinda… Sad. Lonely. I dunno. But a pretty, innocent girl locked up in here shouldn’t have to fend for herself. I may be bad, alright, but I’m not completely souless!” He snickered to himself. “Heh, get it? ‘Cause I’m a ginger.” You let out a soft, breathy laugh at that; one you couldn’t contain. “Hey,” he reached out and nudged your cheek, “There’s that smile. Go on, I’m sorry, read your book. I’ll just chill here… Hangin’ out.”

-

The asylum was particularly chilly today, so you slipped an oversized, washed-out pastel sweater over your dress, as well as a pair of mismatched thick socks. You slid into a pair of plain brown ankle boots with loose laces and clipped two red barrettes into your hair, a yellow scrunchie on your wrist. According to the little red antique clock in your cell, it was nearly eight A.M.— breakfast, which Jerome would always walk down to with you. He always delayed the guards as much as possible before passing your cell, so that you could be escorted down with him.

It had been about two weeks since your first encounter, and while you were initially wary of the prospect of being chummy with a convicted murderer, there was something about him that drew you in. Maybe it was how charming he could be, or how protective he acted of you or how he definitely wasn’t the most unattractive person you’d ever seen, but you weren’t as opposed as you used to be towards being his friend. You heard the sound of struggling increase as it got closer and closer to your door, and you knew it was Jerome come to “pick you up” for the day. You waited at your door, looking out the barred slot as the guards got closer and closer.

“Excuse me? Could I be taken down to breakfast as well?” you asked them, and one with a key ring unlocked your door and let you step outside into the hall.

“Mornin’, (Y/N).” It was Anthony, a guard that you felt you had a good standing with. He was always respectful to you because he had been keeping up with your trial while it was in the news, and he firmly believed that you had done nothing to end up in this place.

“Good morning. How are you?”

“I’m just well, thanks! Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, I did! Do you know what variation of gruel they’re feeding us today?” Jerome snorted at this. “Hey, Jerome. What’s up?”

“Oh, y’know, not much.”

“Sounds fun.”

-

Breakfast was, in fact, another variation of gruel. You had been given a choice between cinnamon and apple oatmeal, lazily slopped onto a tray before being shoved into your arms with a spoon.

You took a seat at an unoccupied table and began to eat and read— you were rereading Gatsby, now—until Jerome joined you.

“Hey, J,” you greeted him, not looking up from your book.

“Hey there, girlie,” he greets, nudging you when he sits down beside you.  “What’s the plan today?”

“They have me in group today. Something about having to ‘act like we’re making progress’,” you slightly mocked.

Jerome gasped. “Well, hey! Whadaya know? I’m in group today, too!” The possibility that you were not in the same group was slim to none; your proximity in age and the fact that both of your cells were on the same floor meant that in any group setting, you were bound to end up together.

“Have they put you in it before?” you wondered.

“Oh, yeah, once or twice,” he told you, taking another spoonful of oatmeal before continuing. “Don’t be nervous about it. All they do is sit you in a circle and give you pens and paper and have you talk about your feelings and why you killed people.” That was still a touchy subject. You’d never verbally say that you ‘killed’ a person; there was a difference between murder and self-defense, and there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever be convinced they were the same. Jerome noticed a shift in your attitude. “Well, I mean, you never killed anyone. So I guess you won’t have to participate too much.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agreed. A burly looking man the approached Jerome, eyeing you all the while.

“Jerome.” He looked up and rolled his eyes at the man.

“Can I help you with something, Greenwood?”

“Yeah. Just wondering when you’re gonna share your little lady friend with the rest of us.” He sat down opposite both of you. “She looks tasty.”

In shock, you couldn’t properly formulate a response to the man’s lewd comments, so while you sat there, eyes fixated on your oatmeal, Jerome took the liberty of speaking up on your behalf. “She’s off limits, pal. Don’t touch her,” he told him, grinning all the while. “Or I’ll flay you and feed you to the rats.”

“Oh, little J’s got himself a girlfriend now, huh? What, you gonna chop her up just like you chopped up your mommy?” Greenwood inched closer and closer to Jerome while taunting him, and your friend was getting visibly aggravated.

His fist clenched and he slammed it on the table. You put your hand over his forearm to draw his attention over to you instead. “Jerome. Stop,” you requested.

“What?” he asked you. “Why me? What about him?”

“Because I know you can be rational,” you told him, maintaining eye contact. “It’s not worth it. Don’t give him the reaction he wants.”

He let out a short breath and turned his attention back to Greenwood. “You know what? She’s right. You’re not worth my foot. Go back to playing with your little dolls, Greenwood,” he taunted, gesturing with his free hand. Greenwood snarled, but got up and walked away anyways. Jerome looked back to you. “Y’know, you’re starting to rub off on me. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be a goody two-shoes just like you!” he joked, snickering. You just rolled your eyes, the ghost of a soft smile on your face.

“Hey,” you warned, “Don’t start getting soft. That’s my thing,” you shot back.

“Yeah, I know,” he smirked at you, catching your hand—the one that was on his forearm—in his. “Jeez, (Y/N), why are you so cold?” he asked you. His hands were exponentially warmer than yours, and you appreciated the heat warming up your own.

“It’s the middle of January and I have terrible circulation. Plus, no one in this place cares enough to turn the heat up.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he laughed. Then he was putting his head on top of yours, so you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

“What time is it?” You yawned. He told you that it was roughly eight-thirty. “Gross.” Jerome chuckled and gave a murmur of assent. He took his hand out of yours and put his arm around your shoulders instead.

“I’ll wake you up when they make us leave,” he assured you as you closed your eyes, thanking him. Then you were off to sleep again, catching up on all of the hours you had missed since you had been incarcerated. He grabbed your book off of the table and began reading it for himself. He kept one hand lightly trailing through your hand while the other was used to flip the pages until, at 9:20, the nurses came to inform the both of you that it was time for therapy.

-

If someone would’ve asked you what had been discussed in that session, you wouldn’t’ve had a clue. You sat next to your only friend in the place, of course, latching onto the only person you’d truly felt comfortable with since you’d been brought in. The two of you had passed notes back and forth the whole time, decorated with goofy little doodles and cartoons to entertain one another. When Jerome had cracked a joke to you following one of the other inmates’ comments, you could barely suppress your giggle, and you both had ended up making a bit of a scene.

“Jerome. (Y/N). Cut it out,” the therapist had reprimanded you. Jerome just gave her a nod, but you had verbally apologized and promised that it wouldn’t happen again.

A few seconds later, another note was passed onto your lap. SORRY FOR BEING A BAD INFLUENCE, it had read. You flipped it over to respond on the other side.

we balance each other out

like a negative and a positive

-

Two months later, and you were finally free to return to the rest of the world. You were overjoyed; you couldn’t wait to get back to your friends and family. You couldn’t wait to get back to school, something you never thought you’d say to yourself. You were also surprised at how well Jerome had responded when you’d told him that you were finally going home.

“You’ll write to me, right?” he asked you.

“Of course,” you verified.

“And visit?”

“I’ll try my damndest,” you promised.

He had seemed like he was making so much progress when you were around. At least, that’s what the nurses and therapists had all noted. For his own sake, they all secretly wished that you would keep coming back to help him out.

-

After another month, the whole city was erupted into chaos.

There had been some sort of gas leak at Arkham, followed by a breakout; your friend among the escapees. The next time you saw him had been on the T.V. in the midst of attempting to blow up a school bus full of cheerleaders from Gotham High.

You felt your heart break in your chest as you sat on your bed that morning watching the news. You’d really, truly let yourself believe that he wasn’t as bad of a person as the media had portrayed him, especially during his trial. You knew him firsthand! He was such a good friend to you, and was always watching your back. It was hard for you to believe that the boy who passed you notes in therapy and made you laugh all day was the same boy who had just kidnapped and murdered seven dock workers and attempted to blow up a bus full of cheerleaders the same age as him.

But, sadly, this was the reality that you lived in. I guess he really fooled me, huh, you thought to yourself.

Around noon that same day, while watching some documentary on Netflix and sending texts back and forth with one of your best friends, you heard a loud knocking outside of your window. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed, heart nearly leaping out of your chest. When your adrenaline rush finally slowed, you looked to see what had caused the noise, and—

“Holy shit!” Lo and behold; it was none other than Jerome Valeska. He grinned at you, waving emphatically.

“Open up, wouldya?” He spoke through the window. “Let’s catch up!”

You walked over to your windowsill but didn’t open the window, instead choosing to lock it. “Why should I let you into my house, Jerome? I’d be harboring a fugitive. That’s a crime. Just like kidnapping, murder, and arson,” you glared at him. “Why would you do that, J?” you asked, hurt evident in your eyes, even through the glass separating you.

“Let me in, (Y/N), I really wanna talk. You know I’d never hurt you.” You immediately believed him, having to consciously remind yourself that you might’ve been being led into a trap. That was, until he held up a fist and extended his pinky. “I pinky swear.” Damn, the boy knows I love me a good pinky swear. You gave up your resolve and cracked the window just enough to reach your own hand through, locking your fingers together before opening it the rest of the way.

“Okay. Talk,” you told him as he climbed through and stepped into your room. You took a seat on the edge of your bed, and he followed suit.

“This guy, Theo… he’s the one who broke us all out,” Jerome began to explain. “Kinda boring dude. But also kinda cool. He’s like the weird, rich uncle I never had,” he joked, making you crack a small smile. He smiled himself at that, nudging you playfully. “Anyways, he gives this whole speech about how we all have ‘vision’ and ‘talent’ and yada yada yada… So I know he gets me.

“Says he wants us to just go crazy, right? ‘Paint the town red’, other junk like that,” he continued. “The last guy who tried to leave, Sionis… He had him stabbed to death. Right in front of us all.” Your eyes shot up to his, shocked. “I can’t very well follow in his footsteps,” he told you.

“Oh, Jerome… That’s awful. I’m sorry.” You wrapped an arm around his side, implying that you’d mostly forgiven him for what he’d been doing recently. It’s not his fault, you reasoned, he’s scared for his life. “What if I call the cops so they can keep you safe from him? You don’t have to keep hurting people,” you offered.

“No, (Y/N), please don’t,” he begged. “They’ll just send me straight back to Arkham, I don’t wanna go back there, I hate that place—”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I understand. I won’t call anyone. Be safe, though? I mean… try as much as you can to not hurt anyone if you can help it.”

“I will. You were right, y’know. About balancing each other out. I think we make a good pair,” he told you, a smile that looked genuine on his face.

“Best friends,” you offered back. Then you gave him a solid hug, burying your face in his chest.

And you’d never have seen it, but that genuine smile suddenly became cunning and devious once more.  Gotcha...

[queenieroselove]

sprace story

Anthony felt like an idiot… this was going to be a difficult semester… and it was only his second semester. Last semester was difficult too. Would every semester be like this? Was  he really actually going to be able to handle college? Or should he drop out now? For now, he would drown his sorrows in his coffee… or not. He had an assignment to turn in in twenty minutes, even if he failed his first friday quiz of the semester.

He dutifully completed the assignment, with a few minutes to spare. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to an hour of algebra. What to do with his down time…. Rest.

Anthony laid his head down on the table, absentmindedly scribbling on a napkin. He had a habit of just scribbling and jotting thoughts down without thinking about it. Absentmindedly he left the written on napkin on the table before getting up and heading to class.

Sean was tired. That would be the least of it. Why in the hell had he taken a fucking english class at eight A.M.? He couldn’t have chosen something more boring, but it was on the list of gen ed courses required to graduate and he just wanted to get it over with. Coffee. That would help. He had two hours before his next class. And he enjoyed his routine of just spending those two hours in the campus coffee shop, working. He could start the outline of the paper Dr. Brenton spent an hour talking  about. He also needed to review his notes for the biology lecture and do his daily spanish. Sean wasn’t exactly the most book smark, but he needed to keep this scholarship, that meant work.

His usual table was open, and coffee in hand (black, medium roast) he got to work. He couldn’t help but sneer in disgust when he saw the last person left a napkin. Rude. The barista wasn’t paid enough to clean up after the rich snobs who came to school here. Then he noticed the writing. “Here lies my GPA - Official COD: College Algebra.” He scoffed, but it secretly made him laugh in his head. College Algebra was pretty easy for him, but he’d heard a lot of the people in his class were worried.

He couldn’t help himself as he left a note on a sticky note and taped it down. Maybe the person would be back later. Why  the hell not? “That class isn’t too bad if you study instead of leaving notes everywhere.” Alright, now it was time for him to work.

The next day Anthony returned to his table. This time with a friend, who promptly noticed the post it note taped to the table. “Hey, what’s this?” Albert wondered allowed, pulling the note up. “Someone leave you a note? Secret admirer.” He teased, raising his eyebrows when Anthony took the post it from his hand.

“None of your business, Al.” Anthony defensively said, even though it really seemed like nothing at this point, just some better than you remark from one of the stuck up upperclassman most likely. Just in case though, He crossed off the remark, and wrote a quick reply before taping it down again.

“So you think your smart? - A”

The next day there was a reply: “I know I’m smart - S”

The notes continued like that, back and forth every weekday for the next few weeks. Slowly they began getting more personal. Nothing to identify either boy, but smaller details, such as:

“Froo Froo drinks are for fools. Try coffee. - S”

“Bold of you to assume I am not a fool. Root beer runs through my veins and Caramel Frappes are my soul. I’ll sooner have a root canal then give up good drinks.- A”

“With all that sugar the root canal may be coming soon. - S”

Despite the generally serious nature of the notes, Anthony couldn’t help but imagine S as a secretly playful person. Someone to joke with back and forth on the matter but would still  sneak a frappe when no one’s looking. Anothony also began to wonder, who S actually was.

Sean wouldn’t admit it, but he was curious too. He wanted to know who A was, despite his friends snickers and jokes. The problem was… this was Sean’s final semester. His time was running short. He did have an idea that it was someone who left the coffee shop just before he got there. How else would the note be so reliable. Surely someone else would have thrown the paper away.  

He couldn’t ask his friends to watch for him though, that would lead to never-ending jokes. Sean would just have to skip class this week. He hadn’t missed this class yet this semester. He could reasonably miss one day.

That is why Sean found himself at a different table than usual, skipping his first class of the day. He had to admit it did feel good to not listen to a dull speech from an overpaid, overpraised professor. Sean tried to be discreet as he watched from across the room. Today, no one came to the table. Disappointment filled him as he left the shop. No more notes came after that. Sean couldn’t figure out what he had done to upset A, and his friends no longer found it a topic to joke about.

Anthony felt guilty. He truly did. He saw Sean sitting there, watching the table, he suspected, and everything fell into place. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sean. Actually it was the opposite. Sean caught Anthony’s eye ages ago, but, he wasn’t the type of person Sean would like. He knew that, why bother going in to have his heart broken?

So he stopped. From then on he made do with the shitty coffee in the cafeteria. He studied in the library. “That is what it’s for, right?,” Anthony explained when Albert questioned him. “Besides, I’m running short on cash.” The coffee shop was generally the first luxury students were forced to give up when the cash ran low. No one would question it.

But then he felt regret on top of the guilt because what if he made a mistake and Sean was actual his fairy tale prince? So what if he wasn’t the type of guy Sean probably wanted, someone smart, handsome, stylish. They had been trading notes for weeks, and Sean had to tell he wasn’t that bright from the very start. So, Anthony decided to do something. He would be brave, he promised himself.

He was still telling himself that when he got dressed for coffee the next morning. Not just for coffee though. He decided to skip his usual sweat pants. Jeans would look better. And maybe not a ratty tshirt from some athletic event he attended over the years. He had collected some nicer clothes for job interviews, scholarship interviews, and things like that. He chose a plain blue sweater. Albert said it looked good on him in the store.

Anthony reminded himself to brave again as he walked across campus to the coffee house. He would stay late today, he promised himself, and if things went badly he could hurry off to class. Sean wouldn’t be there yet, but he was sure that Sean wouldn’t have stopped coming to the shop. Then he remembered he stopped going to the shop.

So that’s where Anthony stayed, looking up and around the shop every five minutes or so. He ordered a caramel frappe, his favorite, but he couldn’t seem to drink it. Or focus on the work infront of him.

After what felt like five nervous hours Sean finally came into the shop. He ordered his plain black coffee, and without even looking at the table Sean sat down across from Anthony tiredly. It only took him a second to realize he wasn’t alone, and when Sean did he quickly and politely apologized and got up.

“Wait!”Anthony quickly spoke up. “Don’t leave” Sean eyed him suspiciously and Anthony remembered Sean had no clue that he left the notes. “Those notes, they were from me.” Anthony admitted quieter.

Sean looked over him again, this time closer, as he sat down. This was him? He was an underclassman Sean had seen around before. Tall, lanky, hung out with some of the jocks and always seemed to have a joke to make instead of actually work. But… he had to admit when he was around Sean usually laughed at the jokes. Actually looking him over Sean decided the boy wasn’t bad looking.

“So,” Anthony started. “Sorry I quit leaving them. I saw you here one day when I was on my way in and figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It wasn’t anything personal or nothing, just… sorta what was going through my head. You seemed smart in the notes. And, I’m not. Oh, sorry, my name is Anthony. Guess we never did get to that.”

“So you made the choice for me,” Sean probed further, seeing the nervous energy run through Anthony. Anthony shook his head, but Sean realized he can be intimidating, and probably was then. He reached out his hand to shake Anthony’s, which Anthony took. “I’m Sean…. If I said let’s get dinner tomorrow would you ghost me?” It wasn’t the best, but it was his attempt at a joke. He had been hit by another fleeting moment of why the hell not mentality.

Anthony actually laughed, although Sean wasn’t sure if it was out of politeness or because the joke was actually funny.

Sean did however, notice a note taped to the table then. With a quiet smirk he picked up the note and read the words “Dinner instead of coffee this time? - A” Sean laughed this time, holding up the note, “Guess we’re on the same thought process.”

Anthony, gaining courage back, promised himself to be brave one more time as he calmly took the letter from Sean’s hand and wrote on it once more: “Kiss me” . He passed it back to Sean, who raised an eyebrow and laughed as he got up and put on his coat. “Maybe if you show up tonight, lover boy. Six. Right here.”

Anthony, beet red merely shook his head in agreement. He had been brave. Perhaps it didn’t end with the kiss, but at least he got the boy.

i hope enjoyed this story. thank you to @ askmidtownnewsies  for helping me write it  i really appreciate it  thank you so much 

my giftee is for @ k-woodsies

[verycleverboy]

So. Last week.

(Strap in, this is gonna be a long one, at least by my standards.)

People who follow this account may have noticed that I skipped this particular story when it was new at the end of last week. First of all, let’s recognize that if you’re getting all your news from sites like Tumblr at this point, you’re in deep, deep trouble. Or maybe you have more important things to worry about than a random voice in the darkness who doesn’t always show up when you need him. However, we should still mark this place in history.

In case you’re catching this downstream from the source, the sad undertone of a lot of what I do here is that I don’t take any delight in watching the US Presidency get debased in every possible way. I wanted him to prove my worst fears wrong, and every day in almost every way he not only lives down to those fears but outstrips them in new and horrifying ways.

So when he held a press conference which, for the first time since the pandemic declaration, had at least one toe in reality, I exhaled for the first time since 2016. Everybody needs to be on the same page to dial back the severity of the spread to avoid the type of systemic meltdown that’s happening in Italy, and if this is what it takes to make that happen. Welcome aboard. Pull up a chair...within social distancing standards.

That was the optimistic me, a week ago today. Oh what a fool.

First of all, he gave himself a ten out of ten for his “perfect” response to this crisis from the beginning, which oh my god, not even the tiniest bit close. Then, and more troubling, he started naming specific drugs which he claimed were being tested against the coronavirus, claims which were overly optimistic at best, pulled straight out of his ass at the worst, claims Dr. Anthony Fauci, director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases who was on the same stage as Trump was rattling this shit off, tried to shut down almost immediately.

And then, as it always happens, Trump lost his shit. Per NBC News:

NBC News’ Peter Alexander, a White House correspondent and a weekend anchor of "TODAY," then asked Trump whether his “positive spin” regarding the potential treatments was giving Americans false hope.

“Is it possible that your impulse to put a positive spin on things may be giving Americans a false sense of hope?” Alexander asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Trump replied.

“It may work, it may not work, Trump said. “I feel good about. That’s all it is, it’s a feeling.”

Alexander responded by asking Trump to talk directly to Americans who are scared by the pandemic, which triggered the president to reply with an insult.

"What do you say to Americans who are scared though? I guess, nearly 200 dead, 14,000 who are sick, millions, as you witnessed, who are scared right now," Alexander asked. "What do you say to Americans who are watching you right now who are scared?"

“I say that you’re a terrible reporter,” Trump said. “That’s what I say. I think that’s a very nasty question.”

"The American people are looking for answers and they’re looking for hope, and you’re doing sensationalism," Trump said.

Me again: I have several problems with this, but the main one is the usual one. In his default setting, Trump is such a flaming incompetent that he couldn’t recognize the opportunity at the core of all this:

“What do you say to Americans who are watching you right now who are scared?”

Instead of coming up with words that would do just that--you know, like every other president in the history of the Republic except this one has managed to do on a regular basis--his response was to throw yet another poor-pifitul-me tantrum in front of the American people. And the saddest part is that it’s such a go-to response for this president that under normal circumstances it would blend into the background. 

Don’t believe me? Ask the man himself:

"I’m sure there are plenty of baseball fans watching out there now. In TV terms, we call this a softball," Alexander said. "I was trying to provide the president an opportunity to reassure the millions of Americans, members of my own family and my neighbors and my community and plenty of people sitting at home right now. This was his opportunity to do that, to provide a sort of positive or uplifting message."

And Trump didn’t, and probably didn’t even recognize what was being handed to him on a silver platter. Absolutely amazing.

Of course, there were other consequences to what he was up to last week. Referring back to the untested drugs that he was pitching as a miracle cure against the advice of the actual doctors in the room, Trump added, “It may work, it may not work. I feel good about it. It’s just a feeling. I’m a smart guy … We have nothing to lose. You know the expression, ‘What the hell do you have to lose?’”

There’s an answer to that. Hydroxychloroquine, one of the drugs Trump named as part of his unfounded promise of a miracle cure, is used to treat lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. Thanks to President Empty Promises, perfectly healthy people have begun buying up and hoarding the drug, and as a result there has been a severe shortage for people who desperately need it. ProPublica: "If they were required to take stronger drugs to suppress their immune systems, it could render them susceptible to more serious consequences should they get COVID-19.“ 

What the hell do you have to lose? Anna Valdez, lupus victim, has the answer: “I was told today that my prescription cannot be filled because the suppliers are completely out. Now I do not have the meds I actually need for an incurable disease I actually have.“

A crisis like this is a leadership test. This has been the story of how Donald John Trump failed, and continues to fail.

[201844574caic1920]

Mental Health Illness Does Not Exist in Prison.

Cells are freezing, food lacks nutrition, inmates are put to work for a wage slip of an average of $13 a month, sexual abuse is not uncommon, racism is a huge problem and the lack of medical care and mental health support is the most disturbing. Its 2020 and the United States prison system is currently experiencing a huge crisis despite its huge $7 billion budget in 2019 one of the largest in the world

43-year-old Ashoor Rasho has spent the past 27 years of his life as an inmate in solitary confinement or restrictive housing units meaning he has spent most of his life with very little social interaction. Originally arrested for Burglary and robbery Rasho’s sentence has been extended several times after violent outbursts as a result of triggers caused by untreated mental health disorders.

Rasho who has been medically diagnosed with numerous mental health illnesses including borderline personality disorder, severe depression, and schizophrenia, has been serving his time in an Illinois prison cell which is so small he can touch both sides of the cell at the same time. He shares that he spends between 22 and 24 hours a day in these conditions. I’m sure we can agree that is enough to make anyone feel crazy after just one day.

Dr Stuart Grassian, a psychiatrist who has studied the harmful effects of solitary confinement for 25 years at Harvard spoke out on the treatment of the mentally ill in prison and described them not as the ‘’ worst of the worst’’ but the ‘’sickest of the sick; the wretched of the Earth. Maybe they were not even that bad before they got in and they just got worse and worse…immoral to see that happen to people’’. Rasho explained that "Even if they would label us schizophrenic or bipolar, we would still be considered behavioural problems," Rasho says. "So, the only best thing for them to do was keep us isolated. Or they heavily medicate you."

The American prison system seems to have become the new version of psychiatric institutions since they closed down in the 1950s, rather than replacing them with a more suitable and appropriate approach of care. America has very little provisions in place to support those who break the law because of mental illness rather they get sent into solitary confinement which escalates the issue which is what happened to Rasho.

The inadequate treatment of mentally ill inmates led to Ashoor Rasho 12,000 others in similar situations suing the Illinois Department of Corrections in 2007 for supposedly punishing inmates with mental health disorders rather than treating them appropriately. In 2016 a settlement was made that agreed to improve the care and provide better treatment of these convicts.

Ashoor Rasho was not alone in his fight. Young African American Anthony Gay entered Illinois department of corrections in 1994 after he got into a scrap  with another young boy who told the police that Gay took his hat and one dollar, he was supposed to serve three and a half years. However, a fight with another inmate led to Gays first experience in solitary confinement  which led him into a downward spiral that landed him 22 years of isolation. As a result, shortly after he entered solitary his mental health took a turn for the worst, he started cutting himself and even multiple attempts of suicide. But why did he do this? Gay knew that every time he would harm himself by cutting his legs, neck, genitals etc that he would for at least  short period of time, have human contact with nurses who would rush to his aid and psychiatrist who would support him. Gay described these experiences by explaining that “It’s kind of like being locked in the basement, and then emerging from the basement and being put on the centre stage,” he said. “It made me feel alive.”

In 2016 the American Correctional Association issued new standards which limits restricted housing and bans prisoners with mental illness from solitary confinement for an extended period. Although these standards have been put into place a study by Yale Law school in 2018 found that in fact still more than 4000 mentally unwell prisoners are still being held under these conditions and are kept in isolation for up to 22 hours a day for 15 continuous days or more. The big issue here is why are the United States throwing its inmates into tiny cells and allowing them to be driven to a point of insanity and ignoring the provisions being put int place rather than providing support for rehabilitation to learn from their mistakes and do better next time?

The US holds just five percent of the world’s population but a quarter of the worlds prison population. What is concerning to see is the statistics of those suffering with mental health. At least half of US prisoners have mental health concerns while around 10% to 25% of US prisoners suffer with serious mental health disorders such as schizophrenia. Something that s also interesting to see is how mental health is affecting people by gender in prison 55 percent of male inmates in state prisons are mentally ill, but 73 percent of female inmates are. What is the reason for this? Is there harsher discipline longer time in isolation, more sexual abuse against women than men? Craig Hany, PhD, a professor of psychology at the University of California at Santa Cruz reports that it can be difficult to offer quality mental health treatment in correction facilities as ‘’prisoners are reluctant to open up in environments where they do not feel physically or psychologically safe’’.

                 Types of Mental Issues Among State and Federal Inmates

 But surely Hanley has answered the question of how to improve this situation. By creating a safer calmer prison environment America can reduce their cost of treatment for inmates such as Anthony Gay who go to such extremes just to have some human contact? Perhaps the issue also lies within the numbers of people who are in prison. The US court system should be considering what they are locking people up for. In the case of Anthony Gay is 22 years in prison in solitary confinement necessary for someone who took a hat and a one-dollar bill?

But how can we expect a change in the treatment of those suffering with mental health issues in prison when the stigma is still strong against the people who stay on the right side of the law? Maybe there needs to be changed on the outside before change can be made on the inside. Providing better mental health facilities for people before they get into disputes with the law could save the United States a lot of time and prevent many people from re-offending.

A change needs to be made and it needs to start now.

[aion-rsa]

Halloween Kills Review: Michael Myers Movie is Filler But No Thriller

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The trouble with announcing you’re going to be making a trilogy of movies is that, well, you have to then make a trilogy of movies. And Halloween Kills, the second part of the franchise reboot, which serves as a direct sequel to John Carpenter’s 1978 classic, is a significant step down after the refreshingly respectful, competent, and creepy 2018 Halloween. “Evil dies tonight” runs the mantra of the Haddonfield residents who are suddenly confronted with the same masked menace who terrified them 40 years ago. Yeah, but it doesn’t though, does it? After all, we know there’s going to be a part three.

Picking up right after the last movie finishes, Michael Myers is on the loose in Haddonfield. Despite Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis), Karen (Judy Greer), and Allyson’s (Andi Matichak) best efforts The Shape has escaped from the burning basement where we last saw him, slaughtered 11 first response workers (none of whom appear to fight back or try to run away, strangely), and is forging a murderous path through the town. Meanwhile Laurie is in the hospital having been stabbed several times in the stomach.

When the townsfolk learn of the return of their own personal boogeyman, panic sets in. Unwilling for history to repeat itself, they plan to take on Michael themselves. With plenty of flashbacks to the incidents of 1978, Halloween Kills expands the mythology of the whole series (including Carpenter’s movie), and adds extra backstory for some familiar characters and some new ones. 

If Halloween (2018) was a movie exploring Laurie’s past trauma, Halloween Kills is about the trauma of a town. What happens to Haddonfield after Myers’ actions put it on the map? What’s it like when the place you live is forever associated with murder? It gives us a chance to check in with characters from the original, including Tommy Doyle (Anthony Michael Hall) and Lonnie Elam (Robert Longstreet) while other returning characters are even played by the same actors who embodied the roles more than 40 years ago, including Kyle Richards’ Lindsey, Charles Cyphers’ Leigh Brackett, and Nancy Stephens’ Marion, who was Dr. Loomis’s nurse. These are cool Easter Eggs, sure, but even these feel a bit like padding.

Everything is bigger in this sequel but that doesn’t mean better. Myers is a one man army, a killing machine who no longer solely relies on his signature knife for his kills. He is relentless and indiscriminate, and his victims are many. Good for lashings of gore but not so good for building tension or eliciting any level of empathy. In some ways, Halloween Kills feels more like a Friday the 13th movie than a Halloween film, with humor peppered between the slayings, and Michael indulging in serious overkill. The Shape doesn’t feel emotion—so hints at anger and cruelty in certain colorful kills are even a bit out of character. But perhaps Myers is dealing with his own internalized trauma…

The nature of exactly what Michael is, is a big part of the movie but even that may leave viewers with more questions than answers—just as well there’ll be a third film to tie up the loose ends, right? That’s the biggest problem with Halloween Kills: it’s just not in any way necessary and therefore feels very cynical. It doesn’t move the plot along; it’s essentially a series of slayings, punctuated by a series of flashbacks, and worst of all Laurie doesn’t really get anything to do. Then the one major set piece which does add a slightly new flavor to the franchise is so signposted that it feels tedious rather than dramatic.

The murders are at least inventive and numerous, so if that’s your thing, Halloween Kills delivers. But when you hear John Carpenter’s ominous score (he’s back again as composer along with Cody Carpenter and Daniel A. Davis) behind the schlocky gore-and-gags action it actually jars.

There are ideas here, and director David Gordon Green has proven he can be a safe pair of hands with this franchise, but this sequel is all filler and no thriller.

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Halloween Kills opens in theatres on October 15.

The post Halloween Kills Review: Michael Myers Movie is Filler But No Thriller appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[blu-b]

Trying again to post my Ragnarok blabbering....

Let’s try and see if tumblr still thinks it has too many paragraphs. If so, I shall split it into two. Reminder that this is just me spewing out everything that bothers me because I actually have so desperately few Thor(ki) pals on tumblr that I'm basically jumping on any opportunity to actually talk to someone about it. Which is why you precious few who commented are now getting the full broadside of my entire jumbled misery. I apologize in advance. You really don't have to read all of it. I’m also not looking for a grand discussion or anything. I just need to get it out of my system.  

​I respect that there are people who liked the movie, and I don't mean to spoil it for anyone else, so what I'm going to say here is all just a very personal, subjective impression that is by no means anything else but an opinion. Also I feel kind of stupid because the film has been out for a year and...yeah well.

On we go.

upstartpoodle replied to your post “I’ve finally seen Thor: Ragnarok (yes yes, I’m late to the party, I...”

I haven't seen it since I knew from the various spoilers I've seen that it wasn't really my cup of tea, so I can't really comment about the film as a whole, but I've seen a lot of complaints from other people about inconsistent characterisation, too many jokes, dropping the ball on plot points established in the previous films, etc. There's an increasingly long post that keeps cropping up on my dash about it. 

calicoskatts replied to your post

I enjoyed it but for me it was jsut another entertaining movie from Marvel but nothing particularly interesting. I thought I was watching Guardians of the Asgardians personally. I’ve been put off from Marvel over the last bit tbh, so maybe that’s why? Like I said, I enjoyed it but I wasn’t wowed or anything.

nelioe replied to your post

*raises hand* I agree, I too thought the movie was awful

miusmius replied to your post

I honestly loved it!

hiko73 replied to your post

What? The movie was amazing from beginning to end, imho....I feel at a loss why you hated it so much.

So, before I say anything, I need to explain that I basically knew the film's plot from gifs and Youtube clips before I watched the DVD, although I didn't know all of it. I already thought some of the scenes sucked big time from the snippets I had seen (Get help, the obedience disk), but actually there were a few that I thought were bad and that turned out rather good in the movie. I’ll come to those in a minute.

So, I think seeing the movie in its entirety for the first time was what did me in. Really, my brain hurt after the end credits rolled off the screen, and I felt like brainwashed. I mean, I knew it was different, and loud, and colourful, and that’s not what I’m having a problem with. It’s rather…a conglomerate of things that just rub me the wrong way.

I’m not mentioning the inconsistent characterisation and the many loose threads that never get cleared up sufficiently (an entire fandom has been waiting for an explanation of how Loki survived Svartalfheim! I had expected it to be a major plot point early in Ragnarok, but it wasn’t even mentioned apart from ‘I thought you were dead’. Well yes, thanks Thor, me too. I’d like to know how he managed not to be dead!).

I’ll also not mention obvious plotholes because well, it’s Marvel we’re talking about, so things like that are expected, and I’ll neither mention obvious flaws on the technical side (too many rapid cuts, weird camera angles or frames) because artistic liberty and all. What does get on my nerves is how almost any serious scene is broken up by something ‘funny’. No two characters can have a quiet talk for two seconds before some joke is cracked that does or does not fit the situation. It’s…tiresome. Especially since most of the jokes aren’t really funny.

​Here's a thing: a have a weird humour, I Hate comedy with a capital H, and I despise nothing more than random comedic slapstick elements in an otherwise serious film. Why for heaven's sake can no one make a serious movie anymore? Argh. This film is literally titled "The end of the world" and yet there's a joke at every corner, and no it isn't a black-humoured jab at fate, it's the kind of knee-slapper that's only funny for half the time it takes, and not again afterwards. It makes me angry. Comedy has to be precise and on-point to work. There's a lot of well-placed comedy in the previous Thors and the Avengers; comedic elements that are funny even when you watch the scene a second and a third time. Now, Taika Waititi takes comedy to an entirely new level that isn't necessarily one I like. I also need to say that although I don't know him personally, he comes across as a very taxing person, taxing in a sense that his constant good spirits and giddiness and sort of bouncy energy would definitely wear out my social batteries if I had to be around him all the time. It wore out Tom Hiddleston's, as we can see in several behind the scenes footages where Taika takes to fooling around in front of the camera while poor Tom would just like to get on with his work.

​Anyway, back to the movie. Of the major things that rub me wrong is that it does have a very problematic attitude towards violence.

​It is rated for a viewing age 12 and up in my country, but I sure as hell would not let my children watch it. There are scenes that come down to nothing but random violence for…well, not even the sake of anything. Hela just skewering Fandral and Volstagg like that? What for? If it’s meant to establish an emotional connection and show just how dangerous Hela is, it fails spectacularly, because it is not given enough time, or enough emotional room. It’s just ZAP and they’re dead; if you don’t look closely you don’t even realise it’s them because they've never had a moment to being reintroduced. Half of the audience has probably already forgotten who they were.The scene with Hogun is gruesome as is the slaughtering of an entire army, and it does nothing whatsoever in terms of significance. Later on, we see many other characters just resorting to brainless mass shootings and seemingly enjoying the heck out of it. Valkyrie, Skurge, you name them. There's a very problematic message in having a character stumble off an enormous spaceship, having them fall off the gangway drunk because it looks cool, and then proceed to mow down a bunch of innocent and mostly unarmed scrappers on a trash planet.

​Now, I don’t have a problem with violence in general. I just don’t like the way it is presented here.

There were a few scenes that were actually good. 

Thor and Dr. Strange for example, even though the plot could easily have done without that sideline, and Benedict Cumberbatch is also only pouring 50% of his effort into his performance - still, it’s solid, classy acting. ​

​The scenes between Thor and Loki on Midgard in the very beginning stand out because both Hemsworth and Hiddleston are given enough time to actually act out their characters' emotions without being interrupted by a joke. I really liked the dynamics here and I wish the film would have picked up on that course.

Some of Hela’s scenes where a little background on her character is revealed were good as well, but overall I thought Cate Blanchett was alternating between gross overacting and doing minimal duty as per contract. It would have been nice to have her on screen some more, and learn a bit more about her past and her motivation. Revenge for being imprisoned by Odin? Sounds familiar. Hela, darling, how about a little talk about that with Loki over tea and biscuits? I'm sure the two of you could have shared some experience. (Also major kudos to Loki for NOT tearing into Odin like "Aha, so throwing your kids into a cell seems to be your standard educational measure, dad.")

​Anthony Hopkins was awful. He has never been good in any of the previous films, one of my main reasons for my major dislike of Odin, and I don't know if he's getting senile or what, he just was really really bad in this one. It only adds to the awful characterisation of Odin altogether. The last straw was his dealing with the Hela situation: "There's this threat that is coming for Asgard, born of one of my own mistakes, there's nothing you can do about it and I don't give a shit so bye and good luck, I guess." Good thing he disappeared, or I would personally have crawled into the TV and shoved the old man off the cliff.

​So, what little else I liked was actually any scenes with Heimdall - I wasn’t a big fan of Heimdall, ever, but he seriously kicks ass here, not only because of superb acting on Idris Elba's part but also because his scenes aren’t interrupted by hectic cuts or off the mark jokes.

​Surprisingly, Skurge’s story arc was interesting as well. Now, I don’t like Karl Urban - you've probably figured out by now that there isn't an awful lot of people that I like. Basically I think his character is rather unnecessary - why not use one of the established characters? Why not let Fandral or Hogun be torn between right and wrong? Anyway, Karl does play him well and I see why a character like that would be in there (his death though? More random, unnecessary violence).

​Bruce Banner / The Hulk really went on my nerves the entire time. The fight between he and Thor is well choreographed, but the entire sequence is too long *yawns* Some of the stuff with Thor in Hulk’s room is actually funny, but that was that. 

​And then Loki. Please prepare yourself for a rant of epic proportions.

Now, I do admit I'm biased because I love Loki; I've loved him in Norse mythology ever since I was a child. I went to study Old Norse for a bit mainly because of the Edda and Loki, and I love what Hiddleston has done with the character in these films. I also get that this is Thor: Ragnarok and not Loki: Ragnarok and that he is a supporting character just like all the others.

​That said, in the few scenes that he actually has - you don't really need Loki for what he does. Any random side character could have stolen the ship's codes, or placed Surtur's crown in the flame. That last bit was a bow to the original myth (and the comics, I suppose) where it's really Loki who releases Surtur and causes Ragnarök (which is why I -love- the 'saviour' scene because it's a reference to Loki arriving at the scene of the final battle at the helm of the ship of the dead, called Naglfar, in Norse myth). But - in the film, all in all, you don't really need Loki for all that. Valkyrie could have done it, or Heimdall, or Skurge for that matter (what a heroic plot that would have made for him!).

​And there's more to it than just lamentably little of Loki in this film. The entire film, to me, seems like a deliberate attempt to ban Loki to the background, give him as little screentime as possible, and make him look ridiculous altogether. Not only is his character basically replaceable in what he does, no - 

(I've seen quite a lot of the BTS stuff in advance, so this plays into it as well.)

Let's start with the small things:

- There's hardly any close-ups of Loki in the entire film, Norway being the one great exception (consequently, he rocks the scene).You can always see him do something in the background, but the camera is never close enough to pick up clearly on any emotions or anything. Best example is the sofa scene at the Grandmasters'. If that was shown correctly, you would be able to read the entire course of the fight from Loki's face - there's glee, there's worry, there's schadenfreude, there's hope and admiration and anger and frustration and everything you can possibly imagine he goes through, but we are shown only mushed images of it. The entire dragging long battle between Hulk and Thor would have been way more interesting if more of Loki's facial expressions had been cut into it.

- Basically all he's good for is delivering cues for Thor and being there as a projection screen for Thor's heroism.

- The camera always seems slightly out of focus; Loki is there but he's not, somewhere at the back or to the side. Even when he's meant to be in the picture, the camera frame is just this little bit out of focus or he's being filmed at a weird angle.

- Weird angles. It's a signature thing for Loki in this film. He's being filmed from behind, above, below - now don't get me wrong, it's a very interesting artistic device - and the scene where he appears before the grandmaster, filmed through the transparent floor is a masterpiece in terms of camera angle - but when it's 80% of these frames and the rest is 15% hovering in the background and 5% good, clear close-ups, it conveys a message about the filmmaker's attitude towards this character - and in Loki's case, this message is not doing him any favours. 

​- More weird stuff: time frames. As I said above, you only ever see Loki doing unimportant stuff. Sitting around talking to the Grandmaster's cronies, getting "captured" on purpose, trying to get through to Thor. We don't see him doing any kind of stiff like Thor does, nothing "heroic", we don't even see him do any significant amount of magic. The only heroic moment he has, at the very end, is again botched by off-kilter dialogue ("I'm not doing get help" just sounds soooo out of place at this moment) and weird framing. Like, Thor gets all these super-cool, physical fighting scenes, full-on frontal, kicking and punching the shit out of everyone. Again, I get that this is Thor: Ragnarok, and we also have the Hulk and Valkyrie who need their hero moments. But we do know that Loki is just as good a fighter as everyone else, he fights differently, but he's very capable of defending himself and others, as seen in Dark World. In Ragnarok, he's right there in the middle of the fight, but you never see him do anything. You see him close in on someone, cut, then you see him pull out a knife of a body or juggle his helmet or whatever, but never any real action that proves how capable he is as a fighter, not like Thor gets them all the time. You see him jump, and roll, and fall on his ass, or doing a pirouette and tossing his hair back afterwards. The focus is not on him doing his share of defending Asgard, but on how he's a weak and pathetic fighter (this post explains it with great visuals). The thing is, somewhat heroic  moments  have been filmed, but have been left out in favour of more ‘funny’ sequences.

- Talking about ridiculousness: There's a total of seven scenes where Loki falls on his ass, his face, or is somehow on the ground for some reason when it's totally not necessary. In comparison, in Dark World and Avengers, he was only ever on the ground when either defeated, or due to battle  action, not just for shit and giggles.

The one at Dr Strange actually makes me wince from the sheer impact with which he hits the floor, bouncing back two feet high in the air (can’t find the gif right now, but he does), and everyone in the cinema laughs. Actually laughs, like this is some funny one-liner. Someone's dropping from the sky and hitting the floor real hard and y'all laugh? Like no, this ain't funny at all, not to me.

​- What are these scenes actually good for? Why did the previous films set him up as a master magician who - as even Dr Strange says - is a force to be reckoned with, when everyone can just shove him to the ground like that? Why is nearly everyone suddenly more powerful than him?

- Shitty lines/shitty scenes: 'Safe passage through the anus'. Boy, it makes me cringe for poor Tom who actually had to say this shit out loud, or play stuff like the (thankfully deleted) portaloo sequence. Like, wow. I mean, I know I have a different type of humour from nearly everybody else, but this shit is just so not funny, and I really hate Taika Waititi for even including such lines and scenes in the script. I mean, I get that he favours Thor over Loki, but was that really necessary? It's so cringeworthy it makes my teeth hurt.

- (On a minor sidenote, can we talk about how it also speaks volumes that Hiddleston was given a costume that he can barely move in and that makes him visibly uncomfortable, yet no one gives a shit?)

To sum it up, I don't like how Ragnarok treats the character of Loki and ignores all of his potential in favour of cheap jokes. It says a lot if a script needs to make fun of one character in order to let its main character appear in a better light. Taika talks about how Thor's and Loki's relationship is at the focus of the film and how they finally get to resolve their problems. I'm sorry, but I don't see any of that. I don't see any brotherly moments or reconciliation or at least an attempt to make things right. And that brings me to the one character that I have the biggest problem with: Thor.

​Now, the general consensus was that Thor grows, he learns, he takes up responsibility, he has this great character development that makes him into a better man. I don't see that. What I see is a man who uses and abuses everyone in his path to achieve his own ends. He thinks he can command Valkyrie by repeatedly reminding her of her oath to the throne (the throne being a very prominent motivation for Thor, as we shall see) even when she's made clear that she gives a shit. When that doesn't work, he keeps trying to guilt-trip her, and when that doesn't work either, he fakes concern to get her attention, and once he has it, he cruelly pushes all the buttons that he knows will make her yield (basically telling her: you can either forget everything and rot on this planet, or you can do something about it and help me).

​He manipulates Banner in the same way because he needs the Hulk for his Asgard mission. I mean, telling Bruce he prefers him over Hulk, and telling Hulk he prefers him over Bruce - I get that it's meant to be funny, but when you think about it, it isn't. It's manipulative as heck and it's exactly the kind of shit he always accused Loki of: lying to get his way.

And when it comes to Thor's interactions with Loki,  he has not learned a single thing. He still treats Loki the way he always did: a scapegoat at worst, a convenience at best. In Norway, after Odin departs, Thor doesn’t hesitate to immediately accuse Loki of both Odin’s death and bringing about Hela as a consequence - as if Loki had any inkling that this was gonna happen. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to bring destruction to Asgard on purpose, remember it’s the only home he ever truly knew, so even if he did let things slip while posing as Odin, he surely never meant for Hela and Ragnarok to happen. He was just as surprised about the Hela revelation that Thor was, and as for Odin’s death - I doubt that this was intended. Especially since we still don’t know xactly how Loki got rid of Odin, but if he’d wanted to kill him, he could certainly have done so while Odin was weak and defenseless, but he didn’t - he just wanted him out of the way, not dead. Yet Thor completely assumes Loki is to blame for all of it, and as a consequence he falls back into his abusive treatment of his brother.

Yes, all I see is an abusive sibling who purposefully manipulates his mentally unstable younger brother. He knows what Loki has been through in the past; moreover, he has heard from Odin himself just how everyone in this family was played and lied to. He has seen what that did to Loki in the past. Thor knows exactly what's at the core of his brother's mind: the ambition to gain his family's approval, a fear of being abandoned, a deep-rooted sense of worthlessness and the ever-prominent desire to impress his older brother. Of course Loki sucks at saying all this out loud, and Thor probably doesn't know the full extent of the damage, but after the events of Avengers and Dark World he must at least have an inkling of what's going on inside that mind. 

​And yet he goes ahead and uses all of Loki's greatest fears against him:

"Our paths diverged a long time ago" - no they didn't, he just never let Loki catch up to him.

"It's what you always wanted" (never seeing each other again) - have you even paid attention to your brother, you big fool?

"But you, you stay the same", "you could be so much more" etc. - and being what, exactly? Thor's thrall, tagging along behind him, helping out when shit hits the fan, and otherwise keeping his mouth shut? To Thor, Loki is only acceptable when he behaves like Thor wants him to. He fails to see that it's Loki who's forced to change more than anyone else. He was forced to change almost first thing after being born, from a Jötun baby to an Aesir one just to please his new father. He's constantly forced to change to adapt to everyone's expectations: Odin's, Frigga's, Thor's own. And when he refuses to play along, he's the one at fault.

​There are two scenes in Ragnarok in particular that I find hard to watch in respect of Thor's abusive qualities. First, the elevator scene /Get Help.

​Loki tells Thor no three times, he even gives him a reason why he doesn't want to do Get Help (which, considering Loki and his difficulties to express emotion, to Thor no less, is a big deal). I don’t know about y’all, but if my sibling told me they found something humiliating, which is several steps up the uncomfortable scale from "I just don't like it", I would never force them into it. Thor has to respect his brother's feelings and stop right there. A no is a no, even from Loki, even in this situation, especially considering how the entire move is nonsense after all - but Thor doesn't stop. He disrespects his brother's wishes, he ignores Loki's feelings, and what's worse, he even belittles him for it and laughs it off: No, for me it's not.

​Yes, well, Thor baby, guess what? It's not always about you.

Even worse is the taser/obedience disk scene. It makes me physically cringe. And I will happily fist-punch everyone who tries to tell me it's just "a joke" or "friendly sibling barter" or wasn't "meant to hurt Loki" or that Thor "didn't know". I'm sorry, but nope.

​Thor knows exactly what the obedience disc does, how it hurts. He has absolutely NO reason to use it on Loki. Loki has been playing along to his plans, he has even tried to offer Thor an explanation and a possible way out, but at that time Thor decided to throw a tantrum and sulk. Did he really think Loki would go through with that half-arsed attempt of collecting the 'reward' for Thor's capture from the Grandmaster, when just some hours before Loki has told Thor that he Grandmaster is a lunatic and that he basically wants to leave Sakaar just as bad as Thor does? Did Thor even listen??? Not to mention that there never was a 'reward' promised by the Grandmaster; instead a threat of public execution looms over Loki if he fails, so the reward he speaks of is possibly, once again, getting away with his life (while using the time this buys him to come up with a means of escape).

​There was no reason at all to place the taser disc on Loki and leave him there - besides, Thor must have planned to use the disk even before he could be sure Loki was going to betray him, so it was Thor's plan all along to leave his brother there for whatever sick reason. How could he be so sure Loki would find a way to free himself? How could he be sure the rebels would be the ones to find Loki, and not the Grandmaster, or Topaz, or any of the hundreds of guards that swarm the place? Not to mention that time passes differently on Sakaar, so who knows how long Loki lay there writhing in agony. Thor walking off telling him "Good luck, I guess" while his brother is in obvious physical pain, and at the mercy of a crazy dictator, is the ultimate cruelty. But the throne is always more important, eh?

​How could Thor be sure Loki would follow him to Asgard and come to his aid? Seriously, Loki could just have taken that ship and flown to the other end of the universe for all he cared. He's the only Asgardian on a ship full of refugees, he has no reason at all to help Thor, not after the taser disc and the general way Thor treated him, and YET he comes after his big brother because he desperately seeks Thor's approval, and Thor knew that and manipulated his brother into exactly this behaviour back there in the elevator.

​And does Loki get a thank you? Not even! All he gets is a flippant "You're late" (everyone who tells me that's 'friendly sibling banter' again must have a truly fucked up relationship with their sibling), and then he's being ordered off to the vault to basically perform an act that could cost his life, without Thor even wasting a second thought to it. Well, we've already seen in Dark World how little Thor cares for Loki, as he just leaves his dead little brother behind to rot on a foreign planet. Doesn't even send anyone to come and collect the body or something. Doesn't even seem to care in Ragnarok whether Loki has made it out of Asgard alive or not (does he check frantically if his brother is aboard as they float off into space? No...but hey look, there's a throne, and people call him majesty, so all is grand).

​Not even the "I'm here" scene does anything for their relationship. How often does Loki have to prove that he will sacrifice himself for Thor, and how often does he get nothing in return but accusations ("You faked your death!", "You killed our father!"), dubious compliments ("Maybe there's some good left in you") or at the most Thor throwing him a bone of approval: "Maybe you're not so bad after all" instead of "Thanks for saving our arses".

​So, is this 'growing'? Is this 'mature'? Has Thor learned one single thing that makes him a better character? I don't think so. He takes up right where his father left, caring only for his throne, and manipulating his brother just the way Odin has always done. Yes, he became a little less uptight, and yes there's the new Thor who's sassy, nonchalant, doesn't give a fuck, doesn't let himself be played by his brother's schemes. I love the way Chris Hemsworth is playing this new Thor as opposed to the previous films. It's fun to watch him finally fill this role with a bit of spice. I really really like this new Thor. The problem is, I like how the new Thor is, but not what he does.

​All in all, I think what happened was that Taika and Chris Hemsworth decided it was time to put the focus on Thor and make his character the center of the plot - which is fine, with it being Thor: Ragnarok and all, but why does it have to be at the expense of another great character that could have been used in so many other, different, better ways for the plot? I think they tried deliberately to shift a bit of Loki's coolness and cunning to Thor who, let's face it, has been a rather one-dimensional character in the previous films.

​What I'm going to say now is unpopular, and probably mean, but it's the vibe I'm getting from day one since I started watching any Thor movies and BTS and interviews: All of this ties in nicely with Chris Hemsworth coming across as borderline jealous of Hiddleston and the success he gained for his portrayal of the Loki character, who was never supposed to steal Thor's spotlight. It's a shame Taika Waititi rolled with it in Ragnarok and actively added to this fiasco by way of bad filmmaking.

​On a final personal note: Just yesterday before watching the film I wrote a little scene post-Ragnarok where Thor finally gets to understand everything that bothers Loki, and finds a way to comfort his brother in a very gentle, caring way, because that was what I understood Thor had finally learned: true compassion, the ability to understand, the motivation to go and make up for every time he was a shitty sibling in the past. I can't see that now, not anymore after watching this film, not after what Thor has been made into and how he treats Loki :(

I'm sorry this got so long. I'll disappear for a while now and see if I can manage to un-watch this movie. Thanks for reading/listening.

[opedguy]

FDA/CDC Halts Johnson & Johnson Vaccine

LOS ANGELES (OnlineColumnist.com), April 13, 2021.-- in a strange déjà vu with Europe’s AstraZeneca vaccine, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention [CDC] halted the Johnson & Johnson/Janssen Pharmaceuticals vaccine for creating blood clots or low platelets in at least six women under 50-year-old.  When the AstraZeneca/Oxford vaccine created similar side effects, the European Medicines Agency [EMA] paused the vaccine March 15 before resuming its use March 18, only a three-day pause of weight out the risks v. the benefits of Europe’s most popular vaccine.  It took only three days for the EMA to decide that whatever blood clots were produced from the AstraZeneca vaccine, they were within the statistical probability of error, meaning that the incidence of blood clots in vaccine recipients were about as likely as the normal population not receiving any vaccine.   Whether the CDC concludes the same with Johnson & Johnson vaccine is anyone’s guess.         

    Any bad publicity over vaccine side effects, especially serious ones like blood clots, discourage vaccine recipients from getting vaccinated.  Vaccine hesitancy has been a big problem for the EMA trying to ramp up vaccines in Europe’s 450 million population.  Whether the blood clots from vaccine use are rare or not, it gives any reason to pause its use, knowing that there are alternatives on the market, including Pfizer’s and Moderna’s two shot mRNA vaccines.  No serious side effects like blood clots or fainting spells have been reported with the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines.  U.S. Food and Drug Administration [FDA] Commissioner Janet Woodcook expected the FDA’s pause to be a matter of days, not weeks, much like the U.K.’s AstraZeneca vaccine.  Like the EMA, the FDA’s likely to conclude soon that the risk of blood clots is so infinitesimal that the benefits of the vaccine outweigh any possible side effects.    

         FDA official Peter Marks said there were very close parallels with AstraZeneca vaccine in terms of infrequent blood clots.  EMA officials didn’t take long to realize the benefits to the vaccine far outweighed any possible side effects, including possible blood clots.  Without knowing the benefits or the risks, the EMA urged vaccine recipients to receive one AstraZeneca adenovirus shot and one Pfizer or Moderna mRNA shot, even though there’s no research on the synergy or benefits of combining the two.  Vaccine makers prefer that the EMA or FDA follow strict guidelines with respect to sticking to strict manufacturer protocols based on research.  On thing’s for sure, the Pfizer and Moderna mRNA vaccines are the envy of the world, both in terms of safety and efficacy.  AztraZeneca and Janssen/J&J vaccines are based on old vaccine technology using adenovirus from the common cold.       

      Reviewing data from new blood clot and low platelet incidents, the FDA and CDC won’t find much reason to suspend the J&J vaccine for two long.  With about seven million single-dose shots given in the U.S. and only six known embolism and low platelets cases, the FDA and CDC are likely to give the green light soon to resume vaccines.  “All Six cases occurred among women between 18 and 48, and symptoms occurred six to 13 days after vaccination,” said Dr. Anne Schuchat, principal deputy director of the CDC and Dr. Peter Marks, FDA director of Biological Evaluation and Research.  Calling the blood clots Cerebral Venous Sinus Thrombosis [CVST], Schuchat and Marks recommended different types of blood thinners for treatment of CVST, mainly heparin.  Whatever the treatment, cerebral CVST can be very serious, essentially the equivalent of a infarct stroke.   

        Speaking at the White House task force today, 80-year-old Dr. Anthony Fauci, NIH chief of Allergy and Infectious Disease, said the pause would be brief, a matter of days, not weeks or months to resume J&J vaccines.  White House vaccine coordinator Jeffrey Zients said there are plenty of Pfizer and Moderna vaccines in the pipeline to vaccinate individuals scheduled for the J&J shots.  “We want to get this worked out as quickly as we possibly can,” said Zients, emphasizing the extraordinary safety of tens-of-millions of vaccines given without adverse side effects.  Marks emphasized that the CDC and FDA decision to pause the vaccines was only recommendations, allowing physicians to continue vaccinating with J&J if they see fit.  “We are not going to stop a provider from administering the vaccine,” he said, letting the public know that the benefits still outweigh the risks.     

        Johnson & Johnson confirmed today that they were “aware of an extremely rare disorder involving people with blood clots in combination with low platelets in a small number of individuals who have received our Covid-19 vaccine.”  That’s a much different response that AstraZeneca March 15, when they essentially said any blood clots or low platelets were no different that the unvaccinated population.  J&J said it would “proactively delay the rollout of our vaccine in Europe,” pending more research.  With over 6.8 million J&J shots given in the U.S., six cases of blood clots or low platelets represent an infinitesimal percentage relative to the number of vaccines given.   CDC and FDA officials sees the J&J blood clots and low platelets the same way they evalaluated the AstraZeneca vaccine March 15.  It took three days for the EMA to resume vaccinations in the European Union.

  About the Author 

  John M. Curtis writes politically neutral commentary analyzing spin in national and global news. He’s editor of OnlineColumnist.com and author of Dodging The Bullet and Operation Charisma.   

[orbemnews]

As the US races to vaccinate the country, J&J vaccine distribution will slow down 84% next week J&J would not directly answer CNN’s questions about why the supply has slowed down, but Jeff Zients, the White House Covid-19 response coordinator said at a briefing Friday, that the supply to states won’t change until its independent manufacturing plant gets a green light from the FDA. “Johnson and Johnson expects a relatively low level of weekly dose delivery, until the company secures FDA authorization,” Zients said. Since the vaccine was authorized in February, Johnson & Johnson fell short of its February goal, but it was able to meet its commitment to deliver 20 million doses in March. Thursday J&J told CNN it is on track to meet its target of producing 100 million doses of vaccine for the United States by the end of May. In a press release last week, the company said it was on track to deliver 24 million of those doses through April, but when asked by CNN on Friday, the company did not firmly stand behind that April goal and referred CNN to Zients’ comments at the Friday briefing, which stated that the company had reiterated “its commitment to provide at or near 100 million vaccine doses by the end of May.” The Biden administration has consistently said the J&J supply would be “uneven.” The states are already feeling the impact of this uneven distribution. On Thursday, Maryland’s Governor Larry Hogan confirmed at a news conference that there would be an 85% reduction in his state’s allocation of J&J vaccine doses. Hogan said this is a serious concern since it could mean that Maryland is about “a quarter million doses short.” “That’s really difficult when you got three thousand points of distribution all counting on more doses,” Hogan said. Washington State’s website also said Thursday that the federal government showed a “substantial decrease” in Johnson & Johnson’s vaccine starting next week. For the week of April 11, Washington state expected to see 12,900 doses, but by April 18 and 25, they would likely get only 4,300 doses each week. Texas’ Department of State Health Services said it too has seen a “major reduction” in J&J allocated doses, going from 500,000 doses this week to 130,000 next week. Connecticut Governor Ned Lamont said Thursday that it will receive roughly 6,000 J&J doses next week from its federal allocation instead of the initially anticipated 20,000 doses. “We had always anticipated the Johnson & Johnson deliveries to step down this week and beyond, but it’s stepped down significantly more,” said Governor Ned Lamont. J&J’s Covid-19 vaccine was expected to be a game changer, since it is a single dose vaccine, compared to the two-dose Moderna and Pfizer, and didn’t need any special refrigeration. A large supply of this vaccine would protect more people faster. With new cases at a “disturbingly high level,” as Dr. Anthony Fauci said Wednesday, vaccines can’t come fast enough, especially given the spread of more contagious variants. Production problems The problem seems to be with the company’s supply of the drug substance it uses for the vaccine. J&J has been getting its drug substance from its vaccine arm Janssen in the Netherlands, according to the Biden administration, and it then goes on to fill and finishing plants that have been doing the final stage process of the vaccines. The company has been trying to add additional manufacturing capacity in the US, but it has had problems with one of those manufacturers, Baltimore-based Emergent BioSolutions. In June, Emergent signed a $628 million contract with the Trump administration’s Operation Warp Speed to manufacture Covid-19 vaccines. It has worked with AstraZeneca and J&J. So far though, it hasn’t been authorized by the US Food and Drug Administration to produce any vaccines. Last week, Emergent told CNN there was a problem that affected a single batch of “bulk drug substance” used to make vaccine. The company’s quality control systems caught the batch that “did not meet specifications and our rigorous quality standards” before it got any further. A person who is familiar with this particular manufacturing process told CNN Thursday that “batches are lost all the time in this industry, it’s just the nature of the complexity of what we do.” Typically, a company’s safety systems will continuously monitor for problems and if there are irregularities in any of the product, the company will have to isolate it and dispose of that batch. According to a FDA inspection report obtained by CNN, Emergent has had some, what the FDA calls “observations,” the agency doesn’t call them violations, with their manufacturing processes in the past. It is not clear from the redacted report what drug or substance these observations were connected to, but the inspections happened prior to the company’s work on the J&J and AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccines. The inspection report from last April showed the company had to reject material before, but there was no “associated non-conforming material report initiated” for the material “indicating the rationale for rejection, as per written procedure.” The reports also showed that for one procedure, “there was no documented evidence the preparer has been trained on that relevant procedure(s).” Another report said that “data generated from laboratory analyses is not reviewed in a timely manner or in accordance to the written procedure.” Compliance expert, John Avellanet, the Managing Director of Cerulean Associates, LLC said the fact that Emergent got what’s known in the industry as a 483 report from the FDA is “significant.” “Only something in the neighborhood of 15% or less of FDA inspections end in non-compliance observations on a Form FDA 483, so when one gets a 483, it is significant.” Avellanet said in an email to CNN. Jesse Goodman, a former FDA Chief Scientist who now works as a Professor of Medicine at Georgetown, said it is not uncommon for a comprehensive inspection to result in a 483. He said that quality and audit systems are there to prevent problems in a final product. “I would say that there are a number of observations that raise substantial questions about the sufficiency of the procedures, processes, and systems that must be in place to help ensure robust control of product quality,” Goodman said in an email to CNN. “You will never in a very complex environment prevent 100% of all errors or mishaps, but you want strong quality systems and oversight in place to, number one, reduce those to the extent that’s humanly possible; and number two, be sure you will detect them and act on them promptly and aggressively to ensure safe, effective products,” Goodman said. According to a CNN review of public records, Emergent never received a FDA warning letter which is an additional step the agency can take in enforcing compliance. A person who is familiar with Emergent’s particular manufacturing process told CNN Thursday that the company has taken corrective action to improve performance issues related to the FDA’s report. J&J has assumed full responsibility for the manufacturing of the drug substance at the Emergent facility. It added experts for operations and quality to the operation and significantly increased the number of manufacturing, technical and quality operations staff to work with the experts it already had sent to Emergent. J&J told CNN Thursday that it is working closely with the FDA so it get the official sign off from the FDA to use the facility. “There’s a lot of vaccine in the queue if you will, to ultimately make it out to the people that need it assuming the FDA approves the EUA” a source familiar with Emergent’s manufacturing process said. As far as when that will happen, it’s unclear. The FDA said it cannot comment on any particular company or its manufacturing. “What the company has told us,” Zients said on Friday, “is once they have authorization, that they will be able to have a weekly cadence of up to 8 million doses per week by the end of the month.” Source link Orbem News #AstheUSracestovaccinatethecountry #country #distribution #Health #J&Jvaccinedistributionwillslowdown84%nextweek-CNN #Races #slow #Vaccinate #Vaccine #Week

[dipulb3]

As the US races to vaccinate the country, J&J vaccine distribution will slow down 84% next week

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/as-the-us-races-to-vaccinate-the-country-jj-vaccine-distribution-will-slow-down-84-next-week/

As the US races to vaccinate the country, J&J vaccine distribution will slow down 84% next week

J&J would not directly answer Appradab’s questions about why the supply has slowed down, but Jeff Zients, the White House Covid-19 response coordinator said at a briefing Friday, that the supply to states won’t change until its independent manufacturing plant gets a green light from the FDA.

“Johnson and Johnson expects a relatively low level of weekly dose delivery, until the company secures FDA authorization,” Zients said.

Since the vaccine was authorized in February, Johnson & Johnson fell short of its February goal, but it was able to meet its commitment to deliver 20 million doses in March. Thursday J&J told Appradab it is on track to meet its target of producing 100 million doses of vaccine for the United States by the end of May. In a press release last week, the company said it was on track to deliver 24 million of those doses through April, but when asked by Appradab on Friday, the company did not firmly stand behind that April goal and referred Appradab to Zients’ comments at the Friday briefing, which stated that the company had reiterated “its commitment to provide at or near 100 million vaccine doses by the end of May.”

The Biden administration has consistently said the J&J supply would be “uneven.”

The states are already feeling the impact of this uneven distribution. On Thursday, Maryland’s Governor Larry Hogan confirmed at a news conference that there would be an 85% reduction in his state’s allocation of J&J vaccine doses.

Hogan said this is a serious concern since it could mean that Maryland is about “a quarter million doses short.”

“That’s really difficult when you got three thousand points of distribution all counting on more doses,” Hogan said.

Washington State’s website also said Thursday that the federal government showed a “substantial decrease” in Johnson & Johnson’s vaccine starting next week.

For the week of April 11, Washington state expected to see 12,900 doses, but by April 18 and 25, they would likely get only 4,300 doses each week.

Texas’ Department of State Health Services said it too has seen a “major reduction” in J&J allocated doses, going from 500,000 doses this week to 130,000 next week.

Connecticut Governor Ned Lamont said Thursday that it will receive roughly 6,000 J&J doses next week from its federal allocation instead of the initially anticipated 20,000 doses.

“We had always anticipated the Johnson & Johnson deliveries to step down this week and beyond, but it’s stepped down significantly more,” said Governor Ned Lamont.

J&J’s Covid-19 vaccine was expected to be a game changer, since it is a single dose vaccine, compared to the two-dose Moderna and Pfizer, and didn’t need any special refrigeration. A large supply of this vaccine would protect more people faster.

With new cases at a “disturbingly high level,” as Dr. Anthony Fauci said Wednesday, vaccines can’t come fast enough, especially given the spread of more contagious variants.

Production problems

The problem seems to be with the company’s supply of the drug substance it uses for the vaccine. J&J has been getting its drug substance from its vaccine arm Janssen in the Netherlands, according to the Biden administration, and it then goes on to fill and finishing plants that have been doing the final stage process of the vaccines.

The company has been trying to add additional manufacturing capacity in the US, but it has had problems with one of those manufacturers, Baltimore-based Emergent BioSolutions. In June, Emergent signed a $628 million contract with the Trump administration’s Operation Warp Speed to manufacture Covid-19 vaccines. It has worked with AstraZeneca and J&J. So far though, it hasn’t been authorized by the US Food and Drug Administration to produce any vaccines.

Last week, Emergent told Appradab there was a problem that affected a single batch of “bulk drug substance” used to make vaccine. The company’s quality control systems caught the batch that “did not meet specifications and our rigorous quality standards” before it got any further.

A person who is familiar with this particular manufacturing process told Appradab Thursday that “batches are lost all the time in this industry, it’s just the nature of the complexity of what we do.”

Typically, a company’s safety systems will continuously monitor for problems and if there are irregularities in any of the product, the company will have to isolate it and dispose of that batch.

According to a FDA inspection report obtained by Appradab, Emergent has had some, what the FDA calls “observations,” the agency doesn’t call them violations, with their manufacturing processes in the past.

It is not clear from the redacted report what drug or substance these observations were connected to, but the inspections happened prior to the company’s work on the J&J and AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccines.

The inspection report from last April showed the company had to reject material before, but there was no “associated non-conforming material report initiated” for the material “indicating the rationale for rejection, as per written procedure.” The reports also showed that for one procedure, “there was no documented evidence the preparer has been trained on that relevant procedure(s).” Another report said that “data generated from laboratory analyses is not reviewed in a timely manner or in accordance to the written procedure.”

Compliance expert, John Avellanet, the Managing Director of Cerulean Associates, LLC said the fact that Emergent got what’s known in the industry as a 483 report from the FDA is “significant.”

“Only something in the neighborhood of 15% or less of FDA inspections end in non-compliance observations on a Form FDA 483, so when one gets a 483, it is significant.” Avellanet said in an email to Appradab.

Jesse Goodman, a former FDA Chief Scientist who now works as a Professor of Medicine at Georgetown, said it is not uncommon for a comprehensive inspection to result in a 483. He said that quality and audit systems are there to prevent problems in a final product.

“I would say that there are a number of observations that raise substantial questions about the sufficiency of the procedures, processes, and systems that must be in place to help ensure robust control of product quality,” Goodman said in an email to Appradab.

“You will never in a very complex environment prevent 100% of all errors or mishaps, but you want strong quality systems and oversight in place to, number one, reduce those to the extent that’s humanly possible; and number two, be sure you will detect them and act on them promptly and aggressively to ensure safe, effective products,” Goodman said.

According to a Appradab review of public records, Emergent never received a FDA warning letter which is an additional step the agency can take in enforcing compliance.

A person who is familiar with Emergent’s particular manufacturing process told Appradab Thursday that the company has taken corrective action to improve performance issues related to the FDA’s report.

J&J has assumed full responsibility for the manufacturing of the drug substance at the Emergent facility. It added experts for operations and quality to the operation and significantly increased the number of manufacturing, technical and quality operations staff to work with the experts it already had sent to Emergent. J&J told Appradab Thursday that it is working closely with the FDA so it get the official sign off from the FDA to use the facility.

“There’s a lot of vaccine in the queue if you will, to ultimately make it out to the people that need it assuming the FDA approves the EUA” a source familiar with Emergent’s manufacturing process said.

As far as when that will happen, it’s unclear. The FDA said it cannot comment on any particular company or its manufacturing.

“What the company has told us,” Zients said on Friday, “is once they have authorization, that they will be able to have a weekly cadence of up to 8 million doses per week by the end of the month.”

[arrow-guy]

Urgent Care 3/(??)

A/N: Alrighty, it took me almost five months, but part three is finally done!! I think that this series might end up being at least four parts, but until we know for sure, I hope you guys enjoy this part!!

Paring: AvengersxReader

Word Count: 2794

Warnings: A little bit of angst, but nothing too serious, mild language

Part 2

“You fucking brought him back with you?” Peggy’s voice carries through the corridor.

“I couldn’t just leave him sitting that apartment, Peg!” Steve counters.

“He tried to control your best friend! He’s dangerous, Steve. That man shouldn’t be here, I don’t care how secure Tony says his holding cells are.”

“They were built to contain the Hulk, they’ll keep a normal man contained just fine.”

Bucky sits stiffly on the barstool beside mine, listening to the rising volume of Steve and Peggy's voices.

“I had no idea bringing Zemo back with us would be such a bad thing.” He says, his voice soft.

“It's not, it just wasn't part of the plan.” I slide off the stool and slip behind the bar before rummaging around in the mini-fridge. Stark keeps bottles of water and sodas in it, but the door is disguised to match the stonework of the bar, so no one knows it's here. “You want anything? Stark keeps Dr. Pepper back here.”

“Any water in there?”

“Of course,” I answer, tossing a bottle of water in his direction and grabbing one for myself. I place my bottle on the marble countertop before maneuvering around the bar and sitting down again.

Bucky and I sip at our water for a while, trying to tune out Steve and Peggy’s bickering.

“So, you work here?”

“Not anymore.” I spin around once on the stool before stopping myself on the edge of the bar.

“Wait, what? I thought you said you worked with Steve.”

“I did. I worked with Steve and the entire team up until just after the Sokovia incident.” I slide the water bottle between my hands on the countertop. “They brought Pietro to me after he had been gunned down. They wanted me to heal him because that's what I do. When I told the team I couldn't do it and wouldn't try, things took a turn for the worst. No one kicked me out or anything. I just left.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Figured it would be better for everyone that way. The only reason I'm back now is that I brought Ms. Carter back from the brink of death and Natasha won't let me leave.” I scrunch up my eyebrows and focus on the condensation running down the water bottle in front of me. “At least not until the accords business is sorted out. Then I might be able to leave.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why would you want to leave? The way you talk about them, they all seem to care about you, and you care about them.”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

He looks me dead in the eye and tilts his head to the side, brow furrowing. “I don’t think you mean that.”

“Oh?”

“You brought Peggy back because you wanted to stop the Accords-”

“Yeah, because I don’t want to be thrown in prison.”

“And you don’t want any other innocents locked up either, right?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “You not only made her young again, you brought her here and made sure Stark and Steve would listen to her, and you stuck around to make sure something actually got done.”

“That’s because those three wouldn’t do anything but bicker if I left them to their own devices.”

“You gave Steve information on where to find me and then helped him track me down yourself, even though you didn’t want to.” He points out. “Admit it. You like helping people.”

“Yeah sure, I like helping people.” He smirks at me. “That doesn’t mean I like being a glorified babysitter.”

“I never said you were a babysitter. All I’m saying is that you have the kind of skills these people need, and you’re the only one who knows them well enough to get the job done.”

“Y’know, I liked it better when you didn’t talk so much.”

Bucky snorts loudly and takes a swig from his bottle of water.

“What do you two think you’re doing, partaking of my refreshments?” Tony demands, though there’s no anger in his voice.

“We’re waiting for Patriot one and Patriot two to quit bickering and calm down a little bit,” I answer, gesturing toward the room where Peggy and Steve are still sharing words. “Care to join us?”

“Have a drink with you? Absolutely not.”

“Suit yourself, this water is fancy as hell.”

Bucky just stares at Tony, like he wants to say something, but can’t quite find the right words.

“So, you and Rogers actually managed to find Barnes?” Tony asks, stepping behind the bar and leaning on the counter.

I nod. “You say that like you didn’t think we would.”

“Well, I was half hoping you wouldn’t come back so...” I reach across the bar and shove him lightly, succeeding only in making him laugh.

“You doing alright, Tony?” I ask. “You’re not as bright as you were the last time I saw you.”

“Excuse you, I am just as smart, if not smarter than the last time you saw me.”

“Your energy, man. Your energy isn’t as bright as it was.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you feeling alright?”

Bucky looks between Tony and me in anticipation of an answer. Tony’ shoulders slump and he hangs his head for a moment before lifting his eyes to look at me.

“All this business with the Accords combined with trying to keep up with the compound, coordinating schedules, maintaining tech, and going on missions.” He scrubs a hand down his face and sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of drained.”

I wipe the condensation off my hand before offering it to him. He cocks an eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes. “Come on, you know I won’t hurt you.”

“Oh do I now?. We’ve been squabbling since you came back, and you expect me to believe you?”

“Yeah, well you’ve got a job to do and you won’t be able to make it to the end of the day without a jump start.” I wiggle my fingers. “Besides, this is healthier than coffee anyway.”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes and takes my hand. “But only a little. I’d rather not be up past my bedtime.”

“Yeah, keep lying to yourself, Stark.” He barks out a laugh and I focus on moving some of the energy I’ve got left over from Draining Zemo the other day into Tony’s body. I watch as his eyes brighten and his posture improves.

“Much better,” I say, nodding once in satisfaction.

“Honestly, that's the only thing I've missed since you left.” He confesses, a sly smile stuck on his face.

“Oh, and my witty remarks don't garner any merit at all?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“I want you to know that I didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice.” He looks at me quizzically and I roll my eyes. “Come on. You acted like it was my fault Maximoff got himself shot. What he did was incredibly brave, but I couldn’t bring him back without harming him.”

“I… I don’t think any of us thought of it like that at the time.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m back for the time being, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll be staying, so try to keep yourselves alive.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “Just make sure you’re honest with Wanda when she wants to talk to you.”

“Am I ever dishonest, Anthony?” He rolls his eyes at me. “If you’ll excuse me, I do believe I have to show Mr. Barnes to the guest quarters.”

“Fine, avoid the problem forever. See what good that does.”

“Thanks,” I smirk at him and slip off my stool. “I think I will.”

Bucky stays frozen in place on the barstool, staring at his bottle of water.

“You alright there, Barnes?” Tony asks.

“I… there’s something I need to tell you. Not entirely sure how you’ll react, but you should know.”

“Okay,” Tony folds his arms across his chest. “What is it?”

“When I was in Hydra, they had me doing a lot of things that I wouldn’t have done, had I been in control.”

“Spit it out, man, we haven’t got all day,” Tony says, his tone slightly teasing.

“Thing is, it’s about your parent’s.”

“I already know about that,” Tony says quietly. “Steve knew and thought it was important that I know as well. He told me just after he started digging around looking for you.”

“He did?” Bucky’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“He did,” Tony nods. “I’m not going to say that I’m not upset, because I definitely am, but I know that you didn't have a choice. We all do things that we regret. Just something else I have to work on with my therapist.”

“You’re seeing a therapist?” I ask. He nods. “Good for you. I’m glad you’re getting some help.”

“Yeah, you and about twenty other people.” He steps out from behind the bar and heads toward the room where Peggy and Steve are bickering. “Go show him to his room, but I expect both of you to be in the conference room at five for a debriefing.”

I stare at him incredulously. “Who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark?”

He smirks. “Weird, right?” He nods once to Bucky and I. “I'll see you two later.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Did that actually just happen?” Bucky asks.

“I honestly have no idea.” I shake my head. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I think I just need a second to process the fact that Stark didn't immediately try to take me out for murdering his parents.”

I snort in amusement. “Give it about six hours. He might make an attempt while you're asleep.” Bucky chuckles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Follow me. I'll show you your room and then you can meet my merry band of misfits.”

“So you've got your own gang then?” He asks, following me as I lead him down the hallway to the elevators.

“More or less.” I jab at the elevator call button several times before stepping back. “I think we're all the odd man out in our departments so we kind of migrated towards each other in the commissary. We just stuck together and the team hasn't been able to pull us apart since.”

“That sounds nice.” Bucky muses.

“It is.” I agree. The elevator doors slide open and I step in, turning to face him. “Shall we?”

--

“This is your room,” I spin in a circle, arms outstretched. “You’ve got a fantastic bed and a bathroom there through that door. If there’s anything you need during the night, I’m just three doors down and F.R.I.D.A.Y. is always here to help.”

“Wow,” His brow furrows. “Isn’t this a bit much?”

“Nah, everyone’s got a room similar to this. Admittedly, they have made some changes, but people who’ve been here longer have definitely personalized theirs. You’re welcome to do the same if you want.”

“This is crazy,” Bucky shakes his head and runs a hand along the table sitting against the wall.

“Can’t really be any weirder than the past seventy years of your life though, right?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, not really. It's mostly just, I don't know…”

“Different?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.” He sinks down into the chair closest to the bed. “I've spent so much time controlled by someone else and then on the run that I haven't had much time to just relax and let things happen the way they're supposed to. It's been a long time since things have been normal, y’know? There hasn't been enough time to just find the calm.”

“I understand.” I nod and offer a small smile. “The thing is, this isn't normal.” I laugh softly, taking a moment to look around the room. “Superheroes and aliens and bringing people back from the brink of death with my own bare hands aren't supposed to be commonplace. But, it is. This life is entirely too aggravating, but it's my normal. Maybe you'll find your normal here too.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a tired smile. “Maybe I will.”

I shoot him a grin.

“I’m gonna let you familiarize yourself with your room. There should be some clothing in the closet and the drawers, but I can’t be one hundred percent sure of what sizes there might be. Hopefully, something will fit.”

“Where are you going?”

I shrug. “Trouble has a way of finding me. Something tells me that I have to go looking for it this time though.”

His brows pull together. “Hopefully it’ll be hard to find.”

I offer him a small smile. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. if you need anything.”

He nods. “Alright see you soon.”

I leave Bucky in his room and turn back the way we had come earlier.

I walk quietly, hands shoved in my pockets, head down. I can feel someone searching me out and, while I know that I have to face her, it doesn’t make any part of this easier for me. Or her, for that matter.

“(Y/N)?”

I jerk my head up at the sound of my name. Wanda stands at the end of the hallway, eyes wide. I can feel the surprise flowing off of her, and I can’t help the tears that well up in my eyes.

I smile weakly. “Hey,”

She runs at me and flings her arms around my neck, pulling me against her in a tight hug. “You're here.” She breathes. I open my mouth to answer but she pushes me away from her before I can say anything, hitting and punching my chest and shoulders. “You left, you complete asshole.”

I just stand there and take the blows, unable to bring myself to say anything.

“SAY SOMETHING.” She yells, shoving me hard enough to make me stumble backward several paces.

“What do you want me to say?” I ask. “Yes, I left. I didn’t tell you I was leaving and I just disappeared because I didn’t want to be here. Is that what you want to hear?!”

“I want the truth, (Y/N). Not what you think will make me feel better. Why did you leave and why are you suddenly back?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and sigh. “I left because of Pietro. Because I couldn’t bring him back. I didn’t want to stay when you all knew I was a failure. I’m not the sort of person to stick around when I’m not of use.” I look her in the eye, unblinking. “Happy?”

“You left because of that?”

“I’m sorry, would you want to stay in a compound you can’t escape where your teammate's negative energy is directed right at you?” I lift my eyebrows and widen my eyes incredulously. “See, I’m not like you, Wanda. I have to feel and absorb the energy around me. I don’t have any choice. I felt the darkness inside of you, but it was yours that you chose to carry. When it was you and Steve and Tony and Clint and everyone else projecting everything you felt, I just couldn’t take it. So don’t fucking lecture me about leaving.”

Her brow furrows and she takes a cautious step towards me. She raises her hand to cup my cheek and I have to close my eyes to keep from flinching. When she runs her thumb over my cheekbone, something inside me breaks. I can't keep myself from leaning into her touch and a couple of tears roll down my cheeks.

“I didn't know,” she whispers.

“I didn't want to leave any of you guys. Least of all you, Wanda. I just didn't know what else to do.” I feel the angry energy that was coming off of her in waves not even a minute ago subside and she gently wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her chest. I wind my arms around her middle and press my forehead against her shoulder, trying and failing to hide my tears. “I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't want to leave you. All of you are like my family.”

I feel her nodding against the side of my head, one of her hands reaching up to stroke my hair. “I understand.” She presses a gentle kiss to my temple and pushes me away from her, framing my face with her hands. “I understand, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers. “I don't want to let you down again.”

“You won't.” She shakes her head. “You can't.”

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