#Hearing threats like that or getting harassed about kisses and stuff and the fact that they turn around and do it to Isa...AAAAAHH!! yaknow

[torchstelechos]

I love that In Stars and Time gives the nonconsensual kiss a proper horrified reaction, by the way. Most media where a character can kiss someone out of no where either make it a funny thing or the "romantic" thing, but here Siffrin kisses without permission out of no where and Isabeau reacts correctly! He pushed them away! Because thats surprising, and fucked up to do to someone with no lead up and no permission! Isabeau had no context, and at the time when the kiss happened, was under the impression that Siffrin didn't like touch which can have a variety of horrible reasons for it. Not only that but... We don't know what face Siffrin was pulling and I don't think it was a nice one. Which, again, means that we don't have all the context either! This is a horrible event that has horrible consequences and I love that it does. Because it's something that is horrible and objectively one of the worst things Siffrin did to one of the others in the loops, so I'm just!!! So excited it had bad consequences!!!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Broken Mirror: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him." - Euripides

Thinking about going on a date with Spencer is way different than actually doing it. Gideon got you two the good seats even if it is a first come first serve. However, you made sure to arrive early enough to get a seat by the exit so you didn't have to waste time just sitting around while everyone else leaves. Gideon picked a good day as well since they were playing a two special horror movies, Psycho and The Shining. Spencer hadn’t seen either of them, but you have and you knew you would have a good time.

“Okay, I got literally every sweet thing they had,” you announced, climbing into the bed of your truck. Spencer didn’t have a car since he preferred to take public transportation to work. Sometimes you would be his ride if he asked for it, so it was natural that you two take your car. It was better anyway since you had a 4x4 off road truck with a comfortable bed if you laid down blankets and pillows, which you did. Spencer leaned on the back of the truck as you sat next to him, handing him the candy he requested.

“I didn’t know you liked sweet stuff.”

“Sweetheart, my whole life revolves around sugar,” you chuckled, pausing when you realize what you just said. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For calling you sweetheart. It just came out,” you chuckled nervously.

“It’s okay. I like it,” he smiled.

“Great, okay,” you immediately felt better.

“So, what do we do here?”

“You’ve never been to a drive-in theater before?”

“Never.”

“Well, some people stay inside the car with the windows rolled down, but that’s only if they have a bench for a seat so they can sit really close to each other. I don’t have that so I chose the bed. We can sit anywhere we want,” you began to demonstrate by moving all around the trunk to show him before settling right… next… to… him, “even here.” You go to move, but he placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You can stay here if you want.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” you cleared your throat, trying to get the awkwardness out of the way. It was clear Spencer didn’t do this too often which was fine, but you wanted to move past the awkward phase.

“Aren’t these movies two hours long each?”

“Yeah, or more, which I don’t know why Gideon thought getting us tickets for this day was a smart idea. He knows I fall asleep during movies all the time.”

“How do you know Gideon?” he asked. Your intentions were to lean against the car, but you shifted too much and ended up against his side, which he didn’t seem to care. Opening the bag of candy you got, you popped one in your mouth and chewed.

“He was the lead agent on my case,” you finished once you swallowed.

“What do you mean?”

“My sister was murdered by her boss since he kept harassing her at work and she would always deny him. He was the one who helped me through losing her. I mean, she wasn’t my blood sister since my parents were fostering a bunch of kids, but she was my sister. The man killed himself before Gideon and his team could get to him, but at least we know he did it. He had the whole plan and more laid out at his apartment.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

“You couldn’t have. It’s fine. The more I talk about it, the less it hurts. I was the one who led Gideon to his apartment since I saw the whole thing after it happened. After that, Gideon and I stayed in touch and would occasionally ask me for help on cases. It’s why he wanted me to join the BAU.”

“That must have been so difficult.”

“It was, but I’m glad I have it. I get to help a lot of people because of it,” you grinned. The first movie started playing, and you and Spencer got comfortable enough to sit through four and a half hours of both movies.

“Did you know due to how repressed Americans were in the 1950s, Psycho is actually the first American film to show a toilet on screen. Consequently, it’s the first American film in which we hear the toilet flush,” you informed him.

“I didn’t know that, no,” he chuckled. 

Halfway through the movie, Spencer began to feel your weight getting heavier as you gave up holding yourself up as to not crush him. He looked over at you to see your eyes closed and your mouth parted. He didn’t want to move for fear of waking you, but he couldn’t help but give a smile at your state.

Walking into work the next day, you couldn’t help but recall the events of yours and Spencer’s date. You did fall asleep halfway in the first movie, and you didn't know why he didn’t wake you since it was supposed to be a date. Nonetheless, when it was all over, you two got some ice cream which was way better. Gideon did a good job sparking up the flame between you and Spencer, but it was now up to you two to keep it lit.

“You fell asleep?” JJ laughed as you, her, and Penelope walked down the hallway to the bullpen. 

Of course, you told your two best friends what happened on the date. You three were getting closer which is why you thought it would be good to engage in some healthy gossip.

“Yes, I did. I always do. But Spencer and I went out for ice cream afterwards which was way better,” you chuckled.

“Did he kiss you?” Penelope asked with a grin.

“No, he didn’t. Well, not on the lips. He did kiss me on my cheek, but it’s a first date and I don’t even know if it’ll happen again. I mean, he hasn’t really talked about it. We haven’t had time to really talk about what this might mean. I can tell he’s nervous and tense which can either mean he’s trying to find a reason to let me down gently, or he likes me but won’t do anything about it,” you explained as you walked into the bullpen.

Spencer was on the other end of it talking with Derek, and when you two made eye contact, you gave him a small wave. He stiffly waved back, and you looked away with a sigh.

“His emotional state is all over the place, but I don’t know what it means,” you shrugged.

“Reid, Morgan, Y/L/N,” Hotch announced when he and Elle exited his office, “document's up on the screen regarding the kidnapping of Trish Davenport.”

“That’s my cue,” Penelope left the group.

“Keep me updated,” JJ whispered.

“Have you read them yet?” Spencer asked as you three walked up the stairs to follow the duo.

“Yeah, I got a copy from the document examiner.”

“What does it say?” you wondered.

“That we've got until 8:00 tonight,” he sighed, closing the door once everyone was inside the briefing room. The note that was left for Evan Davenport, the father of the kidnapped girl, was up on the screen.

“You will follow instructions carefully. You will do this to ensure the safety of your daughter. You will wait for the call. You will answer the call at 8:00 P.M. You will write down the instructions and follow them to the letter,” Spencer read it word for word.

“That gives us less than 9 hours to get to Connecticut, work up victimology on Trish Davenport, and prepare her father for the ransom drop.”

“How do we know the letter is real?” you asked.

“The handwriting is a match for Trish's,” he explained as he showed it. “He dictated it to her, and they found saline on the paper.”

“Her tears,” Gideon muttered.

“He never says ‘I’. He doesn't say, ‘I will call’. He says, ‘you will answer the call’. He's distancing himself from the kidnapping. If he said ‘I’, he'd be taking responsibility for it,” Derek noted.

“There's also another missing element. No mention of the police.”

“Ransom notes almost always forbid police involvement,” Elle stated.

“So, is he expecting law enforcement to get involved?” you wondered.

“Well, if he's expecting us, let's not disappoint him,” Gideon smiled.

“Is everyone familiar with the father?” Hotch asked as he passed out the case files while the plane was in the air.

“Evan Davenport, U.S. Attorney, executive assistant southern district, New York, widower. He assigned U.S. Marshals three times in the past ten years due to death threats,” Spencer spit out the facts.

"Is the protective detail still current?” Derek inquired.

“Around the clock, but Trish declined protection when she turned eighteen.”

“But why kill the boyfriend?” you asked, crossing your legs in your seat.

“Well, if I'm gonna kidnap someone I know, I have to take out whoever's with them. It says here she's got a sister,” Derek stated.

“Cheryl.”

“Any problems? Were they close?”

“Yeah, they’re identical twins,” you showed everyone the picture of both sisters side by side. “Which makes me think was Trish the target or was Cheryl?”

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@averyhotchner @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @fan-girl-97 @paulaern @inkstainedwritergirl @estrela-rogers @abitchforjay​ @kwbaby24 @redsalv20 @joonie-centric @havesaltwilltravel @spencerreid-mgg @sixpencespencee​

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : Surprise?

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Alex (oc), Azazel, Detective Baker (oc), Ash, Brady (mentioned), Abby (oc) (mentioned)

Word count :   2,795

Warnings : Prison  (mentioned), interviews/interrogations, pregnancy complications due to stress, bedrest, fear, panic, house fire, guns, violence, physical abuse, threats, murder, death . Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Final part of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Weeks passed, and everything was being dragged back up. New statements, new interviews. Alex was pulled in again, but this time he had both you and Brady with him and he was treated with respect. No asshole like Baker trying to stonewall him into some kind of a confession. “We just want to be sure this statement is correct, given everything that Baker’s done. Just a formality, I promise.”

New detectives and new experts poured over every detail of Dean’s arrest and the so-called case Baker was trying to build around the idea of Dean murdering your first husband.

You were brought back in the room yourself, asked why Baker had it out for Dean, why he was so sure Dean had killed your first husband. You were honest with that fact that you had no idea but you were scared. Baker scared you. Then you opened your phone, went to a picture and slid it across the table.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday morning. Around 11. I went out to check the mail and there he was.” It had scared you to find Baker parked outside, eyes boring into you. You had kept your eyes locked on his as you brought up your phone, snapped a picture and then called Brady. “I’d like to file a police report of continued harassment despite a restraining order. This isn’t good for my pregnancy. My doctor is worried.” You then slipped them a note from your doctor about the stress.

“Can I get a copy of this picture?”

“Of course.” They handed you your phone back and you were given an email to send the photo to.

Days turned to weeks as interviews continued, evidence was questioned and each and every lie Baker told was revealed. The stress of it all had gotten to be too much, your doctor putting you on temporary bedrest. All information about the case went through Sam, and you only heard bits and pieces of the good stuff, only things that would give you hope.

You saw Azazel a few times since that day in the grocery store. You’d walked out of your last doctors appointment to find him in the waiting room, eyes on you as you hurried past, Sam's hand on your lower back to keep you calm. Dean got a picture of that, too.

But since then, nothing. No Azazel, no Baker. Sam said Baker was under surveillance, and Azazel was now being hunted for betraying the patch. Apparently, someone had dropped a video of the arrest at the garage on their doorstep and they finally listened to what Dean had been telling them. One of their top guys was working the other side. And word was getting around fast.

It was another quiet day. Alex was at school, Abby was napping and you were relaxing in bed with a book while Sam headed out on a quick errand. Something about needing to pick something up for dinner, but he’d be back by the time Abby woke up. He promised. You hadn’t minded. Sam had been stuck to you like glue for so long now you relished the time alone. Finally.

The words started to blur, your eyelids getting heavy. Letting the book fall from your hand, you rolled onto your side, pulling the pillow close and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

A piercing sound snapped you awake and panic instantly set in. A fire alarm. Your fire alarm. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Getting up, you rushed down and followed the sound to the kitchen. You expected to find Sam cooking but instead found your stove on fire.

You were confused, how could that have happened, no one else seemed to be home and unless you slept walked down and then back to bed, it hadn't been you. You ran to yank open the cupboard under the kitchen sink and pulled out the fire extinguisher, working as fast as you could to get the fire put out.

As the flames died, you noticed something on your stove. A hand towel. It was mostly burned, some blackened shreds all that remained. You looked around the kitchen, looking for anything else out of place but found nothing. Brutus was barking wildly at the back door, desperate to get inside as his claws scratched against the glass every time he jumped against it. You had forgotten he’d been let out before you laid down.

You sighed with relief despite the uncertainty. You were just glad it was out, that no one was hurt. But before you could relax, let alone let Brutus back in, another smoke detector started going off. This time, upstairs.

“Abby!” Running as fast as you could back for the front stairs, you almost fell when he stepped out in front of you, blocking you off from the stairs and the front door. “Move.” You threatened, fire extinguisher clutched tight in your hands. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just gave you that cold dead stare he seemed to always be giving you. Your eyes shot to the stairs, this time a click of his tongue grabbed your attention over the sounding alarm and Abby’s cries.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Screaming, you went to take a swing at him with the fire extinguisher, but he far too easily knocked it from your hands. Then he swung, the back of his hand hitting your cheek hard. So hard in fact, that you fell to the floor, eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything to you.. Please.. Please, just let me get to my daughter. Let me get her out. You want me, you can have me, please.. Just let me save her.”  He just stepped closer, no answer, no change in his face at all. You tried to get up anyways, and he just hit you again. “WHY!?” you screamed at him as tears ran down your cheeks.

You were scared, you were terrified, it was that day all over again in your head, but just like that day you had a child to protect. You could hear Abby’s screams and it was killing you that you couldn’t get her, protect her.

“Because Dean Winchester deserves it.”

“FUCK YOU!”  A boot came up in a kick, and you twisted yourself enough that the side of your ribs took the brunt of it instead of your stomach, but it didn’t stop you from crying out in pain.

Then he was leaning over you. “I’m going to make you hurt. I’m going to make it hurt so fucking bad you can’t move.” he smiled at you. “Then I’m going to watch your house burn down around you. Watch as that son of yours finds you. Then kill him too.” You shifted, ready to try fighting back, take a swing, anything, but he grabbed your face by the cheeks in one hand and put a gun to your head which effectively stopped any and all plans.  “Then I’m going to wait. I don’t care how long it fucking takes, I’m going to wait. I want to see the look on his fucking face when he comes home to nothing. Because that piece of shit husband of yours took everything from me.”

Your eyes shot to the stairs again, Abby’s screams louder than anything to your ears, and he pushed the gun harder against your temple bringing your attention back to him. His gaze locked on yours.

Suddenly his face changed, and there was a blur of someone running past and up the stairs. Sam. You’d know that giant frame in a plaid button up anywhere. He was going for Abby, he was going to save her. Nothing else mattered.

Until you looked up and behind the man who still held a gun to your head. You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up all over again. “Let go of my fucking wife.” he growled out, a gun of his own in his hand and pressing into Azazel's skull.

“You’re going to have to kill m-”

You flinched as the shot rang out and blood splattered onto your face. You sat there stunned for a moment, not sure he was real as the body hit the floor. “Dean?”

“Surprise?” he gave you a half smirk.

“Dean!” you got up as fast as you could, throwing yourself against him not caring about the blood. You clung to him and cried.

“It's okay, baby. I’m home.” His arms wrapped around you almost just as tight. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

Then Sam down the stairs, Abby in his arms. “Here.” he told you. “Take her outside. Your bed’s on fire.” Your eyes shot to Dean.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you grabbed Abby before heading out front.

You stood there, your forehead against hers as you cried. You had been so scared you’d lose her, so scared that you’d be stuck there listening to her die. That that would be what you died with in your head.

“Mom!?” Alex rushed over and you started crying even harder. “What the fuck happened?” He asked, ignoring Ash who hurried past and into the house. “That’s it, I’m out of school, I’m not fucking leaving you again!”

“You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Alex’s head snapped up towards the voice. “Dean!” he rushed from you to Dean, who smiled and opened his arms. There was a moment of quiet between them before Alex pulled back. “What happened!? Why does mom have blood on her?”

“Better come inside and get cleaned up, baby.” You looked over at Dean, still so afraid. “Fire’s out. You're safe now.”

“Fire!?” Alex shot  a panicked look to you and Abby, then hurried into the house and froze before getting too far. When you walked in, he was looking down at the body on the ground before he looked back up and met your eyes. “What the hell happened, mom?”

“He wanted to kill us. All of us, watch the house burn down around us so Dean would have nothing left to come home to. I thought I’d lose Abby.”

Alex turned to Sam. “I was getting Dean. Judge ruled last night he was to be released. He wanted it to be a surprise. I should have got dad to come stay with you while I was gone, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” you tried to reassure him, let him know that you didn’t blame him for this. Your voice probably wasn’t very convincing, at least not right now, not with all the pain and fear you were still processing, but you really didn’t blame Sam. “My protector showed up, right on time.” You looked up at Dean, letting him lean in and kiss you gently.

“Always, baby. I’ll always do everything in my power to keep you safe.” You gave him a small smile. “Now, get that ass up to the showers and then you’re on the couch. You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” Dean gave your ass a slap with a smirk.  “Sammy, get dad on the line, tell him to get his ass over here and not to come alone. I need this mess cleaned. Alex and I are going to head out to get a new bed. Ash, you’re on babysitting duty.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Ash mock saluted, making Dean roll his eyes.

“Baby, my jacket?”

“Where you left it.”

With another sweet and tender kiss, Dean headed upstairs and back into his bedroom. He ignored the blackened and burned bed at first, reaching into his closet and pulling out leather. It felt good to wear it again, to feel the weight of it and the patches stitched to it. His jaw tightened as he looked at the bed his children had been conceived in, the bed he’d made love to you in countless times, the bed you had been sleeping in just an hour ago. Azazel might be dead, but it didn’t end there.

And Dean had every intention of ending it.

He knew they were coming for him and he knew they’d be coming soon. He had to get away, he had to get out of town, out of the country. He needed to vanish for a while. Anything to stay out of prison. There was no way he’d survive it. Moving the curtain aside, he peeked out of the motel room and at the car he’d bought last night with cash parked directly outside. It was 2pm, and while the streets weren’t empty, everything was pretty quiet outside the Motel.

Perfect.

Baker grabbed his meager belongings, tucked his handgun into the back of his jeans, and rushed out to his car, eyes darting around as he hurried to the trunk and opened it, tossing his bag in. As he slammed the trunk shut, something was placed over his head that plunged him into darkness and he started to panic.

When he came to again, it was dark and he couldn’t move. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet tied together. He tried to get his bearings. He could hear the low rumble of an engine, the vibrations of a car driving down a highway. He knew he was in a trunk, now he just needed to find the tail lights and kick them out. Shifting around to give himself the space was difficult as he realized something else was in there with him, something big that smelt faintly of blood. He grunted when he hit his head and felt a small trickle of blood. “Shit.” he cursed and started kicking, hoping to meet his mark.

Suddenly, everything stopped, everything was quiet. Despite being in the dark under whatever was still over his head, his eyes frantically darted around as he tried to listen for what would come next.

Doors. Two of them, opening and closing, one on each side of the car.  Foot steps, but faint. So he wasn’t on a solid road anymore, and not on gravel either, or a floor or the foot falls would have more sound to them. A field?  Shit shit shit. A field meant open space. Even if he could get away and run, he’d be an easy enough target to shoot down.

The trunk opened, and hands reached in, yanking him out. He tried to fight them, tried to do what he could but he was put on his feet, dragged away from the vehicle and then kicked in the back of the knee forcing him to drop.

The hood was yanked off, and even though it was pitch black outside, he had to blink a few times before he could see where he was. The desert.

“You wanted to know where he was.” Baker’s head shot around and he found himself face to face with Dean Winchester. “You found him.” Dean pointed out into the desert, and Baker followed his finger. “There’s no marker, but he’s out there. He hurt her so I fucking killed him.”

Suddenly, a body was dropped down next to Baker, and he looked over to see Azazel, bullet wound to the head. Glancing up from the body, he saw Sam dusting off his hands. There was only one reason Dean would finally admit what he did. Baker wasn’t making it out of here alive.

“You hurt her.” Dean growled into his ear. “You fucking put my family in danger when I couldn’t protect them. She almost died.” Dean grabbed Baker by the hair and yanked his head back painfully. “MY DAUGHTER almost fucking died. Almost burned to death. Because of you.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did do this, Baker. You told him who they were, you knew what he would do. If I would have come home just an hour later..” Dean shook his head. “You can’t even imagine the level of hell I would have rained down on you.”

“Dean-” Dean straightened back up and put a gun to Baker's head. “Look I didn’t-” He was cut off by the bullet that ripped through his head and his body fell to the ground.

Dean was wiping down Baker’s gun that he’d just shot him with when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his back pocket, he smiled seeing your name light up his screen. “Hey, baby. You should be sleeping.”

“Woke up to pee and you weren’t back yet. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Are you going to be home soon?”

“I’ll be heading back home soon. Just finishing up something. You don’t need to worry, baby. No one’s ever going to hurt you again. Your protector is home. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean. Be careful.”

“Always am.”

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[thattimdrakeguy]

Why, uh, do ppl hate Tim so much? I just fell down a hole of anti tim and I can’t find a..valid reason for the hate besides that fact tht hes rich and white?

From my experience it’s one of those things where Tim has antagonistic relationships with other Bat-Family members like Damian, Jason, and even partially Steph. So they just crap on Tim, because it’ll make their favs look better.

Like that’s genuinely been the main reason I see, and they use the fact he’s rich and white to make it seem like it’s a social justice thing, even though in the end it really isn’t.

I sort of rant for the rest of the post going in more detail, and mentioning things I’ve been shown, and why I think a lot of it is dumb, but basically it’s just people being petty and insecure, and being unable to handle things in any other way than childishly.

For some Jason fans I’ve seen them talk about how much they hate Tim because they replaced the poor kid with a rich kid, but I’m really freaking poor myself. Obviously I’m not homeless, but there was a time in my life where I slept on the floor, and later on after I did have a bed my bed room had a hole in the floor. But, they’re just looking too deep into stuff just to find a problem anywhere they can.

I’ve also seen some say Tim bullied his way into being Robin after the poor kid died. When 1) that isn’t even an accurate description of what happened and 2) they’re obviously just trying to word it the worst way possible, because they’re pretty freaking childish.

Damian fans try to make Tim and his fans out to be racist cause Tim doesn’t like Damian, when that’s actually because Damian got so close to killing Tim I’m pretty sure Tim actually did nearly die from bleeding out. I think also because Tim once said “what about his biology” when referring to Damian, when Tim wasn’t referring to his race, he was referring to how he’s related to criminals and Damian literally had his biology messed with to make him a fierce warrior and a good body for Ra’s.

Steph fans also try to make Tim and his fans out to be sexist. But their reasoning is really weak, because it’s literally just boiled down to Tim being mean to Steph sometimes, but it’s not like that’s cause of her gender for that to make sense. It’s because in context she is an untrained citizens constantly putting herself and potentially others in-danger without any training to feel safe with her constantly being out there. Plus she flirted with him so much to the point it made him uncomfortable and fit the literal definition of sexual harassment.

And they always do that thing where they gotta make their favs sound better, and Tim sound worse. Which admittedly Tim fans do the same thing, but I’m not really here to pick a side. I’m just here pointing out how freaking annoying fandoms can be, because ultimately I don’t really care what fandom does it. At the moment though I can confidently say, that other fandoms are doing it a lot more than Tim ones lately, because I’m in the Tim tags at least twice a day most days and I’ve barely seen it lately.

It’s kind of a thing to project a lot of stuff on the Tim fandom for the same faux-social-justice kind of jargon they try to do. When you see it from a view like mine, where I’m not on any side of any fandom, even if I am a Tim fan (cause I never really been into deep fandom stuff), it just comes off as hypocritical frankly.

(If you want to hear some dumb things some Tim fans do to even it up, they make him the most frail, emo, emotionally unstable kid ever sometimes. They can focus way too much on making him sympathetic (but even then, literally every fandom does that, but the Tim fandom always does it in a very notable depressing way). They also focus so much on coffee and practically act like he’s all pilled up on anti-depressants he just acts weird that it just seems obsessive and very out of character.)

Like as some examples they’ll bring up how Tim doesn’t trust Damian and put him on a list of potential threats. But Damian literally nearly caused Tim’s death, nearly caused it again in the same story, and at the end it’s shown that Damian isn’t on there because Tim considers him a villain, it’s because he has potential to be dangerous. Wonder Woman and Red Tornado are also on the same list.

To me, I just look at that story as ridiculous, because Damian isn’t dumb, and Tim literally spoke against contingency plan stuff before. Damian’s going to need more than to be on a vague list as a potential threat, especially when he’s visibly on the hero side of it. Damian’s not that thinned skin. He’s got a temper, and obviously really doesn’t like Tim, but even when he felt Tim was insulting him or being patronizing to him before he didn’t try to kill him then immediately. He tried to kill him because he thought that’s what he was supposed to do to earn his place beside his father.

The story’s just dumb in-general.

And then they pull out the New 52 story where Tim is just being a dick to Damian for no good reason, but it’s the same kind of thing. Tim was never that much of a dick without being provoked. The only time I think Tim started a fight was in Red Robin where he was on pills that messed with his mental state, and again had everyone out of character regardless. Because 1) Dick wouldn’t just give away Robin from Tim, because he knows better than that. 2) Damian acts like he’s happy his dad is dead and just acts like a generic child and not even like Damian. And 3) I legitimately can’t see Tim just hitting a kid, even Damian, unless a fight already breaks out.

For Steph fans they point out how Tim is passive aggressive to her, constantly doesn’t want her to be Spoiler, and yada yada. Probably because her Batgirl run portrayed that as being mentally scarring to Steph. Even though one of the panels they chose of Tim being upset and not wanting her to be Spoiler, was after Steph caused Tim to be disfigured and on the pills that messed with his mental state to begin with. Which inadvertedly just makes her look self-centered and narcissistic. But again, I don’t even consider that in-character, because 1) I don’t buy that Steph would listen to Batman especially when it puts Tim in danger, because she never gave a crap about what Batman said till they needed to villainize her before she died. 2) Steph can be arrogant and self-centered, she has it in her, but she wouldn’t ever be that self-centered, to the point she just looks narcissistic. 3) I’m pretty sure at the actual time it happened, Steph is shown being aware she messed up. 4) Steph never cared what others thought. She trespassed on other people’s property to party. She’s a very confident person the majority of the time. Batman tells her to knock it off, she might as well flip him the bird because she just finds him more annoying than anything else. It’s literally in her origin that she doesn’t even like Batman.

There’s also the context for in the 90s when Tim first started doing it. Steph was portrayed as a reckless citizen that could potentially get herself and others into harm because she didn’t know what she was doing, and didn’t have the highest morals. That’s not anything any of the bats would encourage. If Tim was extra passive aggressive, he’s a literal thirteen to fifteen year old boy during that time, no duh he’s going to be immature. That still isn’t a sexism thing. Steph may had saved him twice, but that wasn’t portrayed even in-story as a sign she can handle it like a pro. It was always portrayed as “thank goodness she was with Tim at that time, and knew where he was to save him”. Not to say she was completely unskilled, because I’m not taking that far, but just speaking in generalizations.

She was originally added into Robin to be a very specific foil to Tim, and be a general pain in his side. That was their dynamic. If that makes it seem weird that they eventually had them date then I agree.

And at the same time for both of their characters they also ignore what the character they’re trying to defend has done, because Damian literally nearly killed Tim. They act like Tim should just get over it, because Damian was a kid in a cult, but that explains why Damian did it, it doesn’t excuse it. When something like that happens the person who was nearly killed is probably going to be traumatized (rather or not Tim was can be argued, I’m not saying he was or wasn’t), and not ever trust the person. Like that is the natural and most accurate response for it.

It’s just villainizing for the sake of being petty.

With Steph they ignore the fact she essentially sexually harassed Tim all the time and straight up emotionally abused him for an arc. Which her fans hate to hear, but that is stuff that happened. It was written by her creator. I don’t really care if Tim took her costume away or kissed her first, because I’m aware, and I know the contexts, and it doesn’t take away from what she’s done, because that’s not how that works. They also ignore she caused Tim to be disfigured by saying she was just doing what Batman said. But at that point she was also an adult, and would know better.

Like Steph can be reckless, that’s part of her character, but she isn’t an idiot.

In the end, from what all I’ve seen, it’s literally just fandom pettiness. There’s a lot of fans out there that act childish, treat people like idiots, blatantly lie about things, or exaggerate stuff.

It’s all very dumb, but I find it hard to take serious, because if they can’t acknowledge what their own favs have actually done, it just comes across like they genuinely don’t like the character and can’t admit it. They prefer to stay in their candy land so they gaslit others instead.

For me it’s as easy as paying attention to the story, seeing the contexts, and a lot of the time it’s not even a thing that’s in-character for any of the characters involved, or at least the very least not nearly as serious as they treat it.

Especially for around the past 15 or more years or so. By then the care in making everything is crafted and makes sense went down the drain so it’s often that a story doesn’t even make sense to begin with.

They think fandom is about making everyone else look bad apparently, or at least they sure act like it.

Like it’s comics. I think the fandom in-general that gets so worked up over stuff needs to relax, deattach yourself to look at it from the grander view, and calm down over it. Because things aren’t always what they seem. People try to convince themselves of so much stuff, or bully others for so much stuff, and it’s all so petty and unhealthy.

My personal philosophy in the fandom to avoid any toxic behavior is to just keep it real. I don’t lie to myself, I give everything the same standard, I definitely don’t bully or gaslit anyone, I don’t treat my favorite like they’re a real dang person either, and I look at it all like how it is, fiction.

It’s the reason why I get upset at writing and not fictional characters. I don’t ultimately care when a character does a bad thing, unless it’s out of character. To me the only thing I get upset with is the writing, because it’s the only thing that’s real.

Don’t be obsessed, and keep the peace essentially.

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

It’s Joyce and Hopper’s wedding. A new member is added to the household, and things get real.

(chapter one)(two) 

It’s a Wednesday in February when he returns home and plops down onto the couch. The bar shifts just seemed to get worse. In the span of three minutes, he had to break up a fight, have the bouncer kick out a guy for harassing his manager, and clean a spill a drunk party group had made.

I’m not paid nearly enough for this, he thinks.

A sneeze breaks him from his misery. 

“Bless you.” He says with his eyes closed. They shoot open when he realizes you don’t sneeze like that. 

He sits up and looks at the moving thing under the pillow. His heart races as he hears some kind of breathing. 

Please no, he thinks. We just took care of the plumbing. 

He lifts the pillow carefully, expecting to see a pile of rats or mice or worse. Instead, he’s greeted by a sneezing dog. 

It’s a Scottish Terrier with big eyes that just seem to interrogate him as to why he interrupted his sneezefest. 

“Uhhhhh, where’d you come from?” He scans the apartment, seeing a dog bed at the corner of the lazy boy across from him. 

This had to be the work of one person only.

Steve calls out for you, hearing you run out from the bathroom in a hurry and a towel haphazardly wrapped around you. 

“What’s the emergency? Oh, I see you’ve met Mickey.” 

He’s speechless, looking at you like you’re out of your mind. “Mickey?”

“Yeah, they brought him in today and I felt really bad that they were taking him to the choky tomorrow. I had to save this poor baby. And who can say no to his little eyes?” You singsong the latter half of that sentence in a baby voice, kneeling to ruffle your fingers through Mickey’s fur.

“What if Tony finds out we have a dog? What do we say? We can’t keep him.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, he’s quiet when he eats the jerky from Tom’s.”

“That’s my jerky!” Steve whines.

“Okay! I’ll get you extra then. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” 

Steve glances back to Mickey still staring at him. He puts out a cautious hand, Mickey getting close enough to sniff and then lick. 

At least it was nice to have another man in the house. 

He runs his hands through Mickey’s surprisingly soft coat, earning a low whimper from the pooch. Mickey lies on his side, clearly loving the scratches Steve is giving him. Steve catches himself smiling, suddenly forgetting the looming threat of eviction for a moment.

He’s wanted a dog since he was six, but his dad would never let him keep one. Not even a goldfish. He thinks maybe if he’d had a dog, he wouldn’t have turned out so cold in his teens. He just wanted to love something and have it love him back.

“Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad.” 

Mickey responds by kicking his tiny paws in the air, writhing on the couch.

Steve is so bewitched by the creature he doesn’t even notice when you come back into the room or even left for that matter.

“So, anything from that Sissy girl you were seeing?”

“No,” he pouts, “I mean I think she was scared off by this.” He gestures to himself.

“Oh my god, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what? I just felt like there wasn’t any long term potential there.”

“You guys went on one date, and you didn’t even kiss! You blue balled her!”

“Okay first of all, who takes their date to their family member’s birthday party and expects a whole relationship to blossom from there? And second, when you’ve been single as long as I have, you just know what you want and what to expect.”

You snicker. “But you don’t know what you want, you have like, the worst standards.”

“Uh, I like to think they’re realistic.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think it’s fair everyone has to compare to Phoebe Cates.”

“Phoebe was a great product of her time, thank you very much. And, I mean what about Tessa Grey?”

“Tessa Gr - my co-worker?”

Steve nods adamantly. “I would date her. You know if she wasn’t - engaged.” 

“Alright we have to unpack that sometime but first why do you always say their names like some sort of serial killer?”

“Because,” he thinks, “they’re firsty-lastys. The same way I’m Steve….” 

“Oh please don’t say it.” You cover Mickey’s ears. 

“Steve “The Hair” Harrington!” 

You groan in response, bringing Mickey to rest on your chest while you put your feet up on Steve’s lap. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” He mimics. 

“Oh, please. Okay, okay, let’s say for the sake of this being hypothetical, Tessa breaks off her engagement and she shows up here and says, ‘Oh my god, Steve Harrington I would love to have your babies, let’s get married! You can meet my family and eat my famous pasta, wahhhh!’” You flail your hands around for effect, seeing the amusement in his face.

His face screws up, “Geez, am I dating Wario now?” 

“That is exactly how she sounds! Plus, you would find something wrong with her and then you’d bail.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh but it is! It’s so true. In fact, anyone as grotesquely tall and hair-obsessed as you cannot be so picky.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I find the -”

“Don’t say it.”

“The one.” 

You groan, shoving your face into Mickey’s chest. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t see you bringing anyone home. Still not over Danny?”

Your mouth forms an O, you kick his thigh with the heel of your foot. 

“For your information, I have been seeing someone.”

This piques his interest. “Who and is he an escaped convict?”

“Okay,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t talked to him but he left his number at the desk so who knows?”

“Hmm, I may be wrong, but I don’t think that was meant for you. You are a receptionist after all.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But I just have some stuff to take care of beforehand.”

He nods.

“Personal…..maintenance.” 

“Yup.” 

“Gotta mow the lawn.” You emphasize.

“No yeah, I got you the first time. But come on, let’s be honest here. You’re stalling.”

“For what?” 

“Jumping into the unknown. Danny was a huge part of your life so I get what it’s like to lose that connection.”

You laugh sarcastically. “Okay, grandpa are these your words of wisdom? I am totally over Danny. At this point, I can say screw Danny! I have all the time in the world to find someone else!“

You weren’t completely wrong. Danny had been with you since senior year of high school. You thought it would be like one of those fairy tales where the high school sweethearts end up living together in an amazing house surrounded by all these treasures and all that jazz. Nothing could tear you down.

And then junior year of college came and he slept with one of your college friends. You transferred soon after. It was your first relationship, and you just felt like a failure. 

You don’t view California so great anymore, instead choosing to uproot yourself and finding the first place you could in New York for cheap.

It worked out fine, you think. It led you to Steve and Robin. 

Even though you clowned him for it, you also wanted that special connection. Love that movies taught you but you’d learned the hard way they weren’t going to translate into real life the same way. 

“Uh-huh. I mean there’s no shame in it, I was the same way with Nancy.”

“I wasn’t moping around and wallowing in self-pity like you, though.”

“C’mon what was that whole period of just ‘Danny!'” He mimics your voice crying and eating out of an invisible tub of ice cream. 

You feign being offended, chucking the couch pillow to him as he catches it and smothers himself with it. 

“Your dad’s crazy. Yes, he is.” You pout to Mickey. 

Joyce & Jim’s Wedding

Chincoteague, Virginia

March 1-3rd 

“I remember during ‘84, Chief Hopper had a special visitor waiting for him in his office to talk to him about the disappearance of her boy. At the time she was just the town’s nut, but I bet no one would guess the wild ride these two would go on to end up here.” The man who Steve tells you was one of Hopper’s officers back home, toasts.

It sat poorly with the guests, including a somewhat already even more pissed off looking Hopper. He seems to get the idea and ends his toast blessing the couple in their late forties. 

Jonathan goes up next, greeting the crowd. He’s dressed impeccably, his hair somewhat slicked back and his ring very prominent when the light catches it.

“I would like to thank everyone who came out to help us celebrate. I’m very proud of my mom and at first, I was a little wary about her settling down with someone. Not because I was moody about it but because she’s done so well on her own taking care of me and my siblings. She’s always been both parents to me but Jim,” Jonathan raises his glass.

“I want to thank you for helping us years ago, for believing in us. For being patient with us and sticking with us through thick and thin. My mom lights up every day like a Christmas tree and I think that’s evidence enough for me to happily welcome you into the family. To my mom and Jim!”

“To Joyce and Jim!” The crowd toasts. 

The wedding was held in a gazebo near the beach on the East Coast, with Joyce getting married in a white tea-length dress with lacing decorating her collar down to her arms and Jim in a grey suit decorated with one of Joyce’s favorite flowers in his pocket. They’d both changed for the reception, Joyce into a red sheath dress and Jim into a black dress shirt and pants and a blazer matching Joyce’s dress. 

You were seated with Jonathan and Nancy and another pair of family friends, talking and catching up with the other nuptials. They both told you the craziest stories about Steve from high school to when they last saw him, all the while he sat mere inches from you and hid behind his hand when something particularly embarrassing came up. 

You’d often erupt in fruity laughter, hearing about the time Steve got his Scoops Ahoy uniform stuck in the fridge or when he’d played Dungeons and Dragons for the first time only to lose every time. 

“So, how long has this been going on?” Nancy queries, gesturing to you and Steve.

You glance at Steve, lost for words for a moment. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends,” Steve adds right after you.

“I’ve been rooming with him for the past two years since Robin left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she concedes. “I always hear you call him Honey over the phone sometimes.”

Your eyes widen.  Curse your sarcastic nature.

“Oh no, god no,” You laugh nervously. “I just like to mess with him.”

You drown yourself out with the drink in front of you, leaving Steve to pick up the rest of the conversation.

“We got a dog.” Steve blurts out, trying to fill in for the painfully embarrassing silence.

Jonathan raises his brows, “Really?” 

“Yeah, only instead of being the dad of the group back then, I’m a dog dad now.” He reveals.

Nancy and Jonathan laugh, almost as if to help ease both of you back into not being awkward. 

“Hey, you guys heard Dustin’s getting married right?” Nancy pouts with her bottom lip drawn out. “He’s so old now.” 

“Yeah, Steve loves the little guy.” You blurt. Steve glances at you.

“Last I heard he was starting up some fund for kids with CCD in California,” Jonathan alleges.

“Oh yeah,” Nancy remembers. “The Palm Springs wedding.” 

The music begins playing for the guests and Nancy jumps, exclaiming that she loves this song and asks Jonathan to dance with her. They turn to you and Steve and urge you onto the dance floor, but you say you’ll be there in a second.

“What was that?” He whispers in a shrill tone.

“I panicked!” 

“They probably think we’re idiots now.” 

You cock your head down and glare at him. “These are your friends, Steve. They would never think that. It’s just been a while since you’ve all seen each other they probably understand.”

Steve bounces his leg in response. You put your hand on his thigh, stopping him. 

“Look, we are gonna go out onto that dance floor and we are going to find you the best damn lover you’ll ever have.”

He nods rapidly, hooked onto your every word. 

You lead him in when a couple leaves, guiding his hand to rest on your lower back and rest your left hand on the lapel of his suit. Your right-hand holds out for his, swaying until you can match the tempo of the music. 

“Okay, what about violet in glasses?” You suggest, feeling him turn you to catch a glimpse.

“Too bookish.” 

“What’s wrong with bookish?”

“I already have you, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, what about red with the pony?” 

“Where?” 

“Behind you, rotate.”

He rotates you to the left and makes a face. “Too mean.”

“What? She seems nice.”

“The red makes her seem aggressive.”

You sigh. “Okay, pink with the braid?”

He glances quickly to his right, “Yeah she’s cute.”

“I’ll go and spill my champagne on her and then you just swoop in and dry her off.” 

“Is there any way you can do this without assaulting someone?”

“It’s not assault, I’m just very hands-on with this.”

“That sounds like it’s textbook definition.”

“When have you picked up a textbook? Nevermind, you want to try this or not? I haven’t failed you yet.” 

He purses his lips, thinking back to the first wedding. 

“Don’t. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

As the song ends you retreat to your table, grab your glass, and start sipping. Steve stays behind, watching you fake stumble and fall against the woman and drench her with the drink. She gasps as the cold beverage hits her, and Steve pulls out one of the fancy napkins from the table.

“Showtime.”

"You think she hates me now?” You say, drawing circles in the sand with your feet.

“You mean because a drunken guest dumped their drink on an expensive dress she was planning on returning?" 

You stare at him, unamused. 

"I appreciate the try. She just seemed….too hostile.”

“I get it, I mean a guy like you coming up to me and trying to pat my breasts down - I would want to leave too.” You chuckle to yourself.

Steve stands, smacking off the sand on his pants. He takes hold of your shoulders and leans you close to the waves as they crash against your ankle.

“Oh my god, Steve! You know I can’t swim.”

Steve is laughing like crazy, teasing you. He takes hold of your waist in a second, carrying you as far into the ocean as he can while you’re shrieking. 

He twirls you as you grip his hands tight, digging your nails into his skin and still screaming to be put down.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He says into your ear and drops you on your ass. The overwhelming cold and seaweed cover your body as you try to stand only to be wiped out by a wave. 

Steve is howling in hysterics, clapping like a seal.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill you!” You don’t sound too threatening, if anything your wet appearance was akin to that of a wet kitten just meowing in protest. 

Steve runs and dodges you, moving in a zig-zag pattern as you try your best to chase him through the water.

“You’ll never catch me!” He fronts. 

Anticipating him to move in a pattern, you wait till he moves to the left to start running to the right and knock him down against the sand with a hmph!

“Gotcha!” You exclaim, putting your hands on his chest and completely unaware of the position you’re in. 

You’re straddling him, legs on both sides and your face is inches away from his trying to catch your breath. He smells like salt and champagne.

He’s frozen in place too, one of his hands firmly on your lower back. 

Your eyes flicker from his to the rest of his face, focusing on the moles decorating his neck. He can smell your perfume still even through the saltwater. It inundates his senses, disorienting him momentarily. Your necklace dangles and touches his chin, taunting him. 

This is the moment you’ve been looking for, the one that the movies oh so love to display over and over again. Something in you tells you to do it, to just lean down and see if he tastes like you do. 

Instead, he pushes you to the side softly, catching his breath and patting your thigh. “I guess you got me.”

You nod, taking your dress by the ends of it to walk back onto dry land and leave him sitting there. You’d see him back at the hotel anyway.

@mochminnie​, @wolfish-willow​

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Six

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: time to meet the Avengers

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 2880

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader has just found out Peter is Spiderman. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Five | Masterlist

- - - - - 

You wake up on a hospital bed in a medical lab. Your eyes flutter open and you look around, taking in your surroundings. There’s some sort of medical monitor attached to your finger and some pads stuck to your chest with wires that lead to a machine which is bleeping in sync with your heart rate. You sit up slowly, looking around you for some idea of where you are. There’s a man sitting at a desk with his back to you, studying something through a microscope. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake.

“Where am I?” You ask quietly and the man jumps up from his chair to look at you, knocking something over on the desk as he does. 

“Somewhere safe” he replies nervously, holding his hands up to show he’s not a threat “FRIDAY? Could you Tony she’s awake please?” 

You look at him confused. 

“Already alerted him, he’s on his way” a voice replies from somewhere, you look around trying to figure out where. Tony comes running into the room, sees you and looks relieved. He comes up close to you and takes your hand in his.

“y/n, you’re okay!” You can hear the relief in his voice. 

“What happened to me? It felt like my body was on fire...” you trail off reliving the pain in your memory.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out” says the man who had finished picking up the bits he’d knocked over and was now walking over to you and Tony. He handed Tony some papers but you can't see what is on them. 

“y/n, this is Dr Bruce Banner. He’s helping me work out exactly what was injected into you last night and what affect it has had in your body.” Tony explains, looking at the papers and handing them back to the man. 

“We already know it has caused you to heal quicker-“ Dr Banner says causally, as he’s removing the medical monitors that are attached to you. 

“What?” You interrupt him, you need more explanation than that.

“When I found you, you were covered in cuts and bruises from fighting. But now...” Tony lifts up your arm to show you it’s now completely bare from any marks. Even the cut on your hand you’d accidentally got a few days ago while cooking is suddenly gone. You stare at the place where it was in disbelief. 

“Who were they? Why would they do this to me?” You shake your head. 

“They were working for Professor Randall” Tony says and your eyes shoot up to to him. “He’s been developing a serum that could create advanced humans. Superheroes. That’s why he’s been harassing me, ever since the Avengers first assembled he believed he could help me make more. But I wanted no part in it. I told him, we don’t get to decide these things. We don’t get to play God!” He shouts as he turns away and runs his hand through his hair. He looks back at you with a sadness in his eyes. “That’s why he’s been following you. He wanted to prove to me that he could turn someone normal into...” he trails off, taking a deep breath to calm down.

“A superhero” you finish his sentence and he nods. You take a shaky breath. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who chased him, back at the office. When you did that you caught his attention. Thats when he chose you.”

Then you realise. He’d been planning this for weeks, watching you and planning to experiment on you. You’re just a guinea pig to him. Then you realise something else and your eyes fill up with tears. 

“That’s why you promoted me? You were keeping me close?” 

Dr Banner looks awkward and decides to quietly leave the room to give you both some space.

Tony drops his head sadly, looking at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. 

“Yes” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as a tear rolls down your cheek.

“That was part of the reason, but y/n everything else I said to you that day was true. I have never met anyone like you, and you have proved to everyone that that job was supposed to be yours.”

You open your eyes to look at him. 

“And the kiss?” You almost whisper.

“100% real” he puts his hands on your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N, it was all real” 

You take a deep breath. There’s a lot to process right now, you need some time to think. 

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Dr Banner still has some tests to run. We found the needle and thankfully they didn’t inject the whole amount into you so we have plenty to study. And whatever effects this stuff has had should be less powerful without the full dose. In the mean time, you’ll stay here at the Avengers compound. It’s the safest place for you right now.” 

You nod at him. 

“I’ve had a room prepared for you. I’ll take you there now and you can have some time to relax before dinner.” 

He gives you his hand to help you down from the bed you’ve been sitting on and walks you out the door, down the corridor and into a lift. You travel up a few floors before the doors open and your lead to your room. He opens the door for you and you both step inside. 

It’s a nice room. Plain basic decor, but there’s a big window with views across the training fields outside. You sit down on the double bed and Tony stays stood at the door. 

“There’s clothes in the closet if you want to change. If you need me or anything at all just ask FRIDAY” 

You stare at him blankly and he realises you don’t know what he’s talking about. He explains what FRIDAY is and what to do and you silently nod at him. 

“I’ll come and get you when dinner is ready” He says smiling sadly at you. You can see he feels guilty and upset so you give him a small reassuring smile back. As he’s shutting the door you hear Peter running down the corridor. 

“Mr Stark! Is she okay? Can I see her?” He’s shouting. 

“She’s okay, but she needs to rest”

“No! let him in” you say jumping up off the bed and Tony looks to you raising an eyebrow. “I want to see him”

Tony opens the door wider and Peter awkwardly steps in, looking sheepishly at you. 

“Don’t stress her out” Tony warns Peter before looking at you “don’t let him stress you out” he says then leaves, shutting the door behind him. Peter stays stood looking at you until you gesture for him to take a seat. He walks over to sit on the chair that is in front of the window, facing the bed. You sit back on the bed with your legs crossed. You can tell he feels awkward and doesn’t really know how to have this conversation with you. You decide to make the first move. 

“So, you’re Spider-Man?” 

“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you y/n. I really wanted to but I just didn’t know how to say it or how you’d react and I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t want to be my friend...” he stops rambling and looks down sadly at the floor “But I understand if you don’t want to be my friend now anyway”

“Why wouldn’t I want to be your friend?” You say smiling at him “what, because you’re a superhero?” you laugh “Peter this changes absolutely nothing, other than the fact that I know now you’re a total badass!”

Peter looks relieved “you’re not mad?” He sounds surprised 

“Of course not, no, I get why you’d want keep this a secret. You deserve to be able to live a normal life when you’re not in the suit. Plus you saved me from those guys last night.”

“Not quick enough, they still got to you” he shakes his head 

“Yes but you stopped them, that’s the important thing. Who knows what would have happened to me if they had given me the whole dose!” You stop suddenly as a thought comes into your head “hey, how did you even know I was in trouble?” You ask. 

“After that guy approached you in the coffee shop, Mr Stark asked me to keep an eye on your place whenever I could. I’ve been swinging by to check up on you every night since then”

“You’ve been watching my house? All night?” You ask in disbelief.

“Only before Mr Stark made that watch alarm for you. After that he said I didn’t have to anymore, but I still did. Not all night, just occasionally checked you were safe” he looks awkward, like he thinks you’re going to see this as some sort of invasion of privacy. Instead you stand up off the bed and go over to him, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

“thank you” you whisper.

“Just doing my duty as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man” he says, you release him and sit back on the end of the bed. 

“So, tell me everything... how did it go with MJ at the ball?” You ask, deciding to change the subjects and Peter instantly blushes. 

— — — —

You spend the next half an hour chatting normally with your best friend as if nothing weird had happened lately until FRIDAY interrupts and tells you Tony has instructed Peter to let you rest. You roll your eyes as Peter follows orders and leaves you alone. You spend some time looking out of the window at the scenery, wishing you had your sketchbook so you could draw. After a while you start to feel tired and decide to lie down on your bed. You must have drifted off because when Tony knocks the door you jump awake. He tells you it’s time for dinner and you follow him down to the main living area where some of the Avengers are sitting waiting. 

Captain Rogers stands up as you enter, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table. You thank him and he sits back in his seat opposite you. Tony takes the seat next to you and you look around the room at the other people sitting at the large dining table. You make eye contact with a woman dressed all in black and she smiles at you. 

“Dinner is served” come a posh British voice and you see a red man come walking over followed by another woman who you recognise off the news as the Scarlet Witch. Both are carrying trays of food which they place down on the table. 

“Help yourselves” the red man says. 

“Where’s Bruce?” Tony asks looking around “FRIDAY please tell Dr Banner-“ he interrupted as Bruce comes running in.

“Sorry, sorry! I was working” he says taking a seat next to Tony. “I need to talk to you” you hear him say to Tony and the two of them quietly talk to each other. You cant hear what they are saying but it sounds serious. 

“Don’t be shy, we’re all friendly” Steve says, handing you a plate of food. 

“Yeah you gotta be quick when the food comes out or these walking trash cans will eat it all” the woman who smiled at you earlier says, pointing at two other men sat further down the table. 

“Rude” says one man with a smirk.

“We came all this way for a family meeting and this is how you treat us” says the other. The woman winks at him. “Speaking of, why did you call us all here?” He asks directed at Tony, stands up. 

“Right. As you can see, we have a new face with us. This is y/n” he puts his hand on your shoulder “y/n this is Vision, Wanda, Sam, Clint, Natasha, and of course you’ve met Bruce and Captain Rogers” 

You nod and give them all a smile

“Y/N has been working with me at Stark Enterprise and she is wonderful, you're gonna love her. But right now she needs somewhere safe, that’s where you all come in. Some of you may remember Professor Randall. Unfortunately he has decided y/n would be the perfect subject to test his serum on and last night he sent men to break into her apartment. Peter was able to stop them before they did too much damage, but the men got away. It’s our job now to stop them and the Professor from getting to y/n or anyone else.”

“You will be safe here y/n, you’re part of our family now” Steve says and there are mumbled of agreement from around the table. You smile shyly at everyone. 

“I’ll speak to you individually about specific tasks but for now, let’s eat and welcome y/n to the family!” 

You all tuck in to the food cooked by Vision and Wanda, and the group tell you stories about things they’ve gotten up to in the past. Steve explains to you about how he and Peter first met. About how he’d stolen Captain America’s shield and you can’t believe they’re talking about the same Peter who was so afraid to speak to a MJ. 

“Hey where is the kid? Shouldn’t he be here?” Steve asks.

“He had to head home to his aunt, she doesn’t know about the whole Spider-Man thing” Tony explains.

You don’t know how Peter has managed to keep such a massive secret from everyone, especially his Aunt May! You feel sad for him having to tell so many lies but you completely understand why he does. 

— — — —

After dinner the group splits off to do their own things and one by one you see Tony go round speaking to them. You’re in the kitchen washing dishes when Natasha joins you, picking up a towel to dry the dishes. 

“This all must be really weird for you right” she says smiling at you.

“Just a bit” you smile back.

“How are you doing? Honestly.” She asks.

“Honestly?” You pause “I’m terrified. This guy was following me for weeks, planning to use me as his guinea pig. And I had no idea. When I think about what could have happened if Peter hadn’t arrived when he did, or if they had over powered him..” 

“You have to let go of the ‘what ifs’” Natasha says “if you spend your life focusing on what could happen, you’ll get so paralysed by fear that never do anything. That’s no life.” 

“Glad to see you two are getting to know each other” Tony says coming over to stand on the other side of you. “Romanoff, I have a job for you.”

“There’s a surprise” she responds sarcastically, smirking at you 

“You’re going to be training y/n, every day. Teach her to fight and most importantly to defend herself. We need to be prepared for all circumstances”

Natasha nods. Tony picks up a dirty plate.

“you know we have a dishwasher right?” He says and you sigh, flicking water at him. Natasha bursts out laughing. Tony gives her a look and she nods before walking off to join Clint on the sofa. 

“Come with me” he says taking your hand. He leads you out onto a balcony away from everyone else. You look up at the sky, you can see how full of stars it is now you’re not in the city. It’s beautiful. 

“I have something for you” he hands you a bag, which you open and immediately recognise the item inside. 

“My sketchbook!” You gasp in delight “how did you-?”

“I went back to your apartment this afternoon to see if I could find anything about the men who broke in, and I found that under the sofa. Don’t worry, I didn’t show Steve what’s inside.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing.

“Are you ever going to stop teasing me about that?”

“I’ll think about it” he laughs, “maybe if you put my face in that book of yours..?” 

You stare up at him, studying his face. 

“I don’t think I could” 

Tony looks confused. 

“See I draw Steve’s face because it’s basically perfect” 

“Oh thanks” Tony interrupts, sarcastically offended.

“No, I mean because that makes it easy to capture him. But you...” You put your hand on his cheek, staring into his eyes “There’s something about your face, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“im old” Tony jokes.

“no! Theres a look in your eyes, I don’t know if I could get it right.”

He smiles slightly and you lean in and kiss him softly. 

When you pull away Tony smirks at you. 

“So what you’re saying is my face is too beautiful?” He jokingly asks and you laugh, using your sketchbook to hit him on the arm. 

“Ow! Hey save that for your training with Nat tomorrow. Speaking of, you better get yourself to bed, she likes to train early.” Tony says, walking with you back inside the building. You nod. 

“Thanks Tony. For everything, not just the sketchbook.”

“Goodnight y/n” 

He watches as you start walking down a corridor. 

“You’re going the wrong way” he shouts and you turn around, walking the other way.

“I’m new here! Give me a break!” 

Part Seven

Taglist: @brownbuble, @star-trek-is-my-lifesource, @shookie-shookie​, @thebuckysoldier​, @chai--chae​

[freddiesaysalright]

Defending Rami

This request actually came from my roommate, but she doesn’t have a tumblr so I’m just gonna post it like a one shot. Hope y’all like it :)

You squirmed with excitement in your seat, giving Rami’s hand a gentle squeeze. You couldn’t believe after a year of planning, decision making, and organizing, the wedding was over and you were on your way to your honeymoon on the island of San Andres, Colombia. You had the window seat because your husband knew how much you loved to watch take off.

Rami looked over at you and smiled. He leaned over and pecked your lips before saying “I love you” in Arabic into your ear. You giggled and kissed him again before the flight attendant came over to take your drink order. When she moved to the lady across the aisle from you, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“Would it be possible for me to change seats?” the woman asked.

The flight attendant looked surprised. “I’m sorry, ma’am, this fight is full. Can I ask what’s wrong with the seat you have?”

The woman turned eyes on Rami, looked him up and down, and then looked back at the flight attendant. “I guess I’ll take my chances.”

You scanned Rami’s face and you saw his jaw clench. The flight attendant moved on, and you looked at the woman, who was now angrily pulling a book out of her bag.

“Excuse me,” you said, leaning over Rami to address her. “Is there a problem? Have we done something to offend you?”

Rami’s eyes snapped to you and he tried to give a subtle shake of his head, but you ignored him as you waited for her to answer you.

“You can’t blame me for being nervous hearing people like him speak their language,” the woman said defensively. “Don’t try and make me out to be the bad guy here.”

“You’re doing a perfectly fine job of that yourself,” you snapped.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Rami said under his breath.

You continued to ignore him. “For your information, my husband was telling me that he loves me.”

“I’m sure that’s what he says to all his wives,” she said with a sneer. She addressed Rami now. “What number is she, huh?”

Your mouth fell open. The other passengers were looking on now, but you were too angry to feel embarrassed. Rami hid his face in his hands.

“I see there’s no ring on your finger,” you spat. “What, are all the ‘good’ Klan members taken?”

“Y/N!” Rami gasped.

“I’m not backing down, Rami,” you whispered to him. “She can’t treat you like that.”

The woman opened her mouth to respond when the flight attendant returned.

“Is everything okay here?” she asked. “I heard raised voices.”

“Has that man’s bag been thoroughly checked?” the woman said before you could start to explain.

“Ma’am, every passenger has been through airport security,” the flight attendant said, seeming to understand.

“If only people could be checked for racism,” you interjected.

“Oh, my God,” Rami groaned, hiding his face again.

“Speak while you can, girl,” the woman returned. “Before he puts a burqa on you and beats you like all the other terrorists.”

“Bitch, I’ll show you terror!” you yelled, unbuckling your seat belt to clamor over Rami.

“Shit, Y/N, no!” he cried, putting his arms around your waist and holding you back.

You struggled wildly against him, anger pumping through your veins at the injustice of it all. The woman started screaming and cowering in her seat, though you hadn’t gotten anywhere near her.

The flight attendant called security, and all three of you were escorted off the plane. You took a seat as Rami went to arrange a new flight for you. The woman left without saying anything else. You sat, fuming, but you could tell Rami was angrier. It made your own rage quiet down when you saw him approach. He didn’t say anything at first. He just sat down in the seat next to you, his leg bouncing with irritation.

“Rami,” you said softly.

“Why did you do that?” he snapped. “Why did you have to get involved?”

“Because she was being ridiculous!” you said indignantly. “I’m not gonna let anyone talk that way to you! Would you let it happen to me?”

“It wouldn’t -” he stopped himself.

“No, say it,” you insisted.

“It wouldn’t ever happen to you, Y/N,” he said, and your heart ached at the bitterness you heard there. “Because you’re white.”

You heaved a sigh. “You’re right, Rami, it wouldn’t happen to me. But what if it was something else, then? A man harassing me or talking about my body? Would you be able to let that slide?”

“That’s different,” he said.

“How?” you demanded.

“Because something like that is a threat to you.”

“People like her are a threat to you and everyone who looks like you!” you said. “I won’t let them sit comfortably in their bigotry, it’s not fair!”

“The world isn’t fair!” he cried. “Stuff like that is going to happen to me, okay? It’s just a fact of my life. It’s unfair and it’s not right, but I have to be the bigger person. You have to be graceful or it only makes things worse.”

“You shouldn’t have to be the bigger person!” you insisted. “Not when someone else is being so blatantly shitty!”

You glared at each other for a moment before you took his left hand, his wedding band shining in the fluorescent light. You brought your own over and put it beside his.

“You see these?” you said gently. “We made a promise. Part of that promise is to protect each other from the rest of the world. I will never sit by and let someone treat you with disrespect. I will never back down when someone calls you something that you aren’t. I will never stop fighting for you, Rami. I love you too much.”

You cupped his cheek with your hand and made him look at you. His eyes shone with tears that he blinked back.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he returned shakily. “So much.”

[prorevenge]

Racist mom tries to bribe son to dump me, I gain power over everything she cares about.

This is gonna be a LONG post lol, may have gotten exact timing sequences out of order.

Met a guy that we had mutual friends with and invited him to hang out with my friends and do fun stuff. Later learned he was not even allowed to hang out with my crowd cuz his mother was the very strict and hypocritical sort who thought everyone else was inferior to her precious kids. Guy was telling them he was doing work or something. Eventually he told them he wanted to date me and they flipped. The dad doesn’t have much say in the house and the mom (EM) was livid.

You know how Amish people don’t like rock and “sinful” music? Or females that wear shorts and tanks? Yuuup basically her. She went through my social medias and literally compiled and printed out giant lists of every country song I’d ever posted or concert I’d been to or clothing she thought was too provocative along and gave it to the pastors at both of our churches. EP called MY mom at 2am a couple times to rant and rave about “how could she let her daughter do such sinful things and flirt with boys yada yada yada”. She made racist remarks to Guy (I’m a super cute half Asian half messican, and all of his family is pale white golden haired angels) and even asked him if I’d molested him (I’m 5’ 2” and he’s literally a foot taller than me) and if that’s why he wanted to date and marry me. He was still at home and they went on a family trip to Colorado. Or as it turned out to be an exorcism style prayer meeting over Guy because EM just knows there must be a demon or something wrong with him. Oh and this was only within a span of a few months while he saved up to move the hell out.

Nope not over yet. EM then was harassing his work, his new church pastors (mine), his friends, got one of his business partners to leave him with lies that Guy is “bipolar” and “Schizophrenic”, thankfully most of the people had our back and we had some good laughs over what outrageous things they told us. Even driving an hour and a half to his apartment (I know dumb move to let them know where he moved to), in the middle of the night a couple times to harass and berate him and blubber about how everyone would judge her and how her reputation was going to suffer and church standing, she even dragged his two younger siblings into it all and told him they were heartbroken that he moved out and all the reasons he needed to move back home. Cue even more fun, one night he was just done so when they showed up to again try and bully him into moving back home or at least dumping me, he just up and left. Got in his mini and drove away. AND THEY FOLLOWED HIM. Unbelievable right? He used to race his mini so he lost them pretty quickly and booked it over to where I lived and spent the night there. I know, why not call the cops right? Well there was no physical damage or threats thereof. Yes she’s been verbally and borderline physically abusive to him growing up, think patriarchy super conservatives but it’s a matriarchy. At one point EM asked Guy what it would take for him to dump me, what amount of money could she pay him (Guys dad makes buttloads of moola, yeah those kind of people) to get me out of his life and for him to move back home. SHE TRIED TO BRIBE HIM TO LEAVE ME. She’d threatened to disown him and all the typical rich EP stuff before and knew he didn’t care. EM even called all his guy friends and asked if Guy has ever had any “homosexual” tendencies etc. Next month Guy proposed, and EM was SO MAD that she heard about it for the first time from a mutual friend congratulating her on the upcoming wedding! So of course she calls all the pastors and REEEEs about how we’ve been living in sin (kicker, we hadn’t even done the dirty dance but she didn’t bother asking) and telling everyone that they shouldn’t attend the wedding etc. Yea call us prudes :p EM also printed out all the reasons why I wasn’t good enough for her son and handed those out like candy to church leaders. Then when that had no effect she switched tactics and did the same thing with all her reasons why he was immature and shouldn’t get married and should move back home and be parented. Still no effect, except my dad at a huge meeting where she tried to distribute those, gathered them all back up and handed them to her and told her to stop slandering us and said how ungodly that was. And she stood there baffled and all the other people present agreed with my dad and told her to put those papers away. EMs exact words “but but I thought the very reason everyone is here is to show Guy why he needs to leave that girl and move back home!” I couldn’t help a giggle and a few other people couldn’t either. That meeting is a whole nother story, it was hilarious.

Where is the revenge you ask? Well all that was just the tip of the iceberg of course, but the revenge has been pretty simple. Spend a few obvious nights (SLEEPING ONLY) at his place, just to trigger her, but ofc our pastors and friends knew we’d committed to abstinence our entire lives up to the wedding (hella yea wedding night was killer) and other things like that to get under her skin but nothing that anyone else thought was bad. Very publicly plan and execute a HUGE wedding (over 500 people) and tell everyone about how our relationship is so beautiful and holy and how Gods destiny brought us together yada yada. She made a couple extra hoops for our pastors but we jumped through them with flying colors and everyone except her thought we were the cutest most Christian kosher thing. So basically to save face she had to fake smile and accept all the congratulations and be secretly embarrassed that we didn’t invite her to the wedding showers (she said she never wanted to see me and wouldn’t go to the wedding) and made excuses as to why she hadn’t gone, EM couldn’t tell her friends that we hadn’t invited her now could she? She went after the best man too and he almost decided against being the best man she was such a hassle and he was a pushover, but I told him the best passive way to deal with her is tell her that he wants to be there for his friend and how could she argue with that? She didn’t. But of course, what’s better than forcing her to attend the wedding but not allowing her to ruin it? Extremely petty I know, but I’m a drama llama and have enjoyed 98% of all this. I of course get ahold of EMs own mom and get to know her and she’s very sweet and loves me to death, along with Guys siblings and his dad, as many of EMs own friends and their families etc. So everyone loves me and when we invite them all to the wedding, they strong arm her into coming. I have my cop friends who have been having a heyday hearing about all this drama coming in for the wedding, one of them I make my MC so if she tried anything, not only would they take care of her swiftly, but she would also deeply embarrass herself because there was no denying that there were 500+ people there who loved Guy and I, including a lot of her friends. The ceremony was great, went off without a hitch, oh wait... I am not a bridezilla so if anything went wrong it was fine and the drama was cracking me up, I was a little disappointed she didn’t try anything drastic, but I could see on her face the entire time that EMs smile was sooo fake, and I got reports that she was seen crying outside later. Watching people congratulate her was priceless. When my own friends congratulated her a few of them later told me that she seemed surprised that I had any “respectable” friends (her literal words) who thought well of me. And no I’d arranged her to be only in one photo so she couldn’t ruin any others.

Oh and our wedding day was only the 3rd time she’d ever set eyes on me. She was against me from the start for almost a year without ever having spoken a word or ever seen me in person. Take that EM. To this day I have no idea what was her real beef with me. Happy ending: now that I provided the first grandkids, to my chagrin they’re like baby Targaryens they’re so white, and of course she’s too “young” to be a grandma so she’s called “nana”, but we laid down ground rules and she knows we will ostracize her at the drop of a hat, and she has kissed butt so hard and to her credit done her best to mend everything without ever really actually mentioning any of it. It’s great. We have holidays and fun visits in between and she showers us with super expensive gifts and will drop everything possible to help if we need anything. I think we’re friends now. One day I think she might bring it all up and try and play the victim, idk, but she’ll be hit with a carefully detailed account of everything that went down, in case her memory “fails” her. I can forgive but I’ll never forget, after all, I got my delicious revenge. Power over everything she holds dear and the evidence to expose whatever she hasn’t already done by her own dumb self and absolutely ruin her reputation and community and church standing. I feel really good right now

TLDR entitles mom wants to be petty about me dating her son so I take petty to another universe levels and crush her with epicc facts and logic and hold all the cards to ruin her life now

(source) story by (/u/cyborgurl)

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

A Memory Of The Smell of Smoke, Ch 1.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Everyone liked to pretend that Campbell had been born bad. That their fear and hatred were logical, rational, justified, because Campbell was a monster incapable of making the choice between good and evil. Because he couldn't feel the way they did. Well, fuck that. He was gonna prove them wrong. At least, that had been the plan.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Emotional Baggage, Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Substance Abuse, Animal Death, Complicated Relationships, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Implied Rape, Campbell has mild ASPD and is self aware enough to try and be better, the non-con is NOT Campbell, didn't add an official warning because it is the aftermath only, yes it is the party becca mentioned and there will be a warning in the notes of that chapter, Campbell/Harry, Campbell/Elle.

Word Count: 3121(chapter 1/5).

AO3 || CH 2 || CH 3 || CH 4 || CH 5

Disclaimer: This is part of the first book of a series, A Gamble At Terrible Odds.

Knowing what I know of personality disorders and my own personal experiences, this is an attempt to write a canon divergent storyline for Campbell, using a slightly more realistic take on conduct disorder and ASPD instead of slapping on Hollywood "psychopath" stereotypes. While young people with conduct disorder can be violent and abusive, the diagnosis does exist on a spectrum, and neither ASPD nor "psychopathy" should be diagnosed before the age of 18; this is one thing that rubbed me the wrong way on The Society. I wanted an antagonist who's threat lay in the fact that they are calculating, ambitious, and ruthless-- not just "crazy". Hopefully I can succeed in presenting a more understandable and slightly less sensationalized vision of how-and-why he behaves. Please note that I have no intention of making him a violent abuser, not in an attempt to "woobie" him, but to bring his character more in line with my experiences of how an emotionally neglected child/teen with moderately reduced empathy would behave, provided they were actively attempting to help themselves.

Tl;dr I just wanted to make Campbell less needlessly shitty, because it makes me feel better as a person, and because I wanted one (1) antagonist who isn't just an evil, horrible abuser with a scary mental illness.

Thank you for reading, and leaving kudos/comments/likes. <3

/////

Campbell could barely remember life before Sam. The few memories he had were just bits and pieces, and nothing worth remembering. His parents leaving him with his Aunt Amanda, Uncle Jim, and cousin Cassandra while they went on a business trip or to some fancy vacation. Being scolded for crying too loud in the grocery store. In the kitchen of their big fancy house, reaching for his mother to pick him up, and standing there alone as she walked away. Later, sweetie. Some other time, dear. Mommy's busy, Campbell. It was always the same thing, and it only got worse when his mother got pregnant again.

Your mother's tired, his father would say. She needs to rest. Not that his father ever made time, either. He was important, and often harassing some poor fuck in the community with Uncle Rogers. Campbell didn't know what to do, so he would cry and scream until finally one of them would pay enough attention to yell back. Sometimes they would grab his wrist and drag him to his room for time out. He just always was too much for them, too stressful for them, too demanding, too clingy, too emotional. A bitter irony, he thought when he was older and looking back, remembering what it was like to feel that deeply. He'd been robbed of that, before he'd even known how to vocalize it. When Sam was born, they gave him to Campbell to hold. Campbell looked down at his baby brother. He was so small. So fragile. Don't you love him, his parents asked. Campbell didn't reply, and his parents laughed it off and teased him for being jealous. He didn't know what that word meant, not at the time. All he knew was that he was standing at the edge of his family, watching something he wasn't allowed to be a part of, even if he didn't understand why. He did discover that if he held Sam close, if he was gentle with Sam and kissed his forehead and smiled at him, their parents would smile, too. Their parents would coo and hold Campbell, too. They would sing to them both, read to them both. At first, he thought maybe he could do it. Even if he didn't feel as warm towards Sam in the way his cousin Cassandra seemed to feel towards her little sister, Allie, Campbell liked Sam alright. Campbell knew he could be a good boy, a good brother, and his parents would love him. For the first two years of Sam's life, things did seem like they were improving. Sam gurgled at him and followed him everywhere, and babies were kinda gross but Campbell accepted that. At least he felt like maybe he had a friend. It didn't matter that Sam spent more time with their parents than him, and that their parents looked at Sam in a way they never looked at Campbell. Campbell still felt less alone. ... At first. But then one night, when Sam was three and Campbell was five, their parents shook Campbell awake in the middle of the night. He tried to ask what was happening, but his parents just shouted at him to stop asking questions. There were sirens outside. Campbell saw their mother rush by his bedroom, with Sam in her arms. He looked strange. Limp. Campbell tried to follow, but their father grabbed his arm and yanked him a different direction. Their Uncle Jim was there, and he loaded Campbell into his car and drove him to their home. Cassandra was awake when they arrived. She took Campbell's hand and led him to the room she shared with her sister. At least there, it was quiet. They sat together on Cassandra's bed, silent and staring off into space. He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, it was light outside and Cassandra was holding him in her arms. "What's goin' on?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Where's Sammy?" "It's bad," she said, in that matter-of-fact voice of hers. "Sam is in the hospital." Campbell wiggled out of her embrace and padded out to the kitchen, where Aunt Amanda and Uncle Jim stood, faces pale. "What happened?" he demanded, frowning when the adults shared a look. "What happened to Sammy?" "Sweetie," Aunt Amanda said as she clutched her coffee mug, "try to go back to bed. We don't--" "Tell me!" He was yelling, and he knew that good boys didn't yell at adults, but he didn't care. Without Sam, there was nothing and there would never be anything again; he needed Sam, more than he needed anyone. "Tell me what's goin' on!" Uncle Jim came over and crouched down in front of him. "Sam got sick, and fell asleep. The doctors are trying to wake him up and make him feel better. That's all we know right now, Campbell." Asleep. Campbell remembered that Cassandra had a hamster once, and it died. It went to sleep and never woke up again. "What if Sammy doesn't wake up?" Aunt Amanda started crying. Uncle Jim said nothing. Campbell went back to Cassandra, who was watching him with wide blue eyes. Allie woke up not long after, and they all ate pancakes in bed. At least, the girls did. Campbell gave his bacon to Cassandra and picked at his pancakes until they were cold. Allie played ball with them out in the yard; Campbell kicked it back to her a few times, but he was too busy thinking about his brother. Would he be okay? Would he come home? What made him sick? Kids didn't just die, did they? "I thought only old people died," Campbell said to Cassandra later, when Allie was getting a bath. "Sammy's too little." Cassandra was coloring in a book. She didn't look up, but she shrugged. "Kids die all the time. In war and from cancer and stuff." "How do you know?" "My parents watch the news." Campbell sucked on his lips. Jealousy. He knew that word, now, and knew it's ugly pulse. The only time he ever watched the television was when a movie or Sesame Street was put on for Sam. And he didn't even know what that word meant, cancer, but he wasn't going to ask. He didn't want to know. If he knew what it was, it made it real. That night, his father came to the house and picked Campbell up, taking him back to their own house to get some clothes. "You need to stay with your auntie and uncle for a while," his father said while snatched random things and jamming them into a backpack. "Just for a few days. Understand?" "When is Sammy coming home?" "Don't ask questions. Go get your toothbrush." Campbell slumped and wandered off to get his stuff from the bathroom. The ride back was silent. He brought his backpack in and dropped it next to Cassandra's bed; he noticed his father talking to Uncle Jim and Aunt Amanda in the study, and he slinked closer to listen. He couldn't hear much, but it was about Sam. "Meningitis. They don't know if he'll..." But then his father noticed him at the door. He walked over and shut it, just like that. Campbell felt something hot and painful stir in his chest, and without thinking, he kicked the door as hard as he could. It stayed shut. Campbell stormed back to the bedroom. His father left without saying goodbye, and that night, Campbell burrowed against Cassandra's shoulder as he cried. He didn't want to cry. He wanted to hit things, and break things, and make people hurt. He didn't understand it, but it was something he knew how to do. Sam woke up a few days later, and their parents brought him home after a week and a half in the hospital. Campbell stayed away a bit longer to give them time to take care of Sam; something had gone wrong in the hospital, but no one said what. Campbell barely ate. He didn't speak. Not to anyone besides Cassandra, anyways. She was the one who told him the news first, after she'd listened in on her parents talking. "They said Sam can't hear anymore," Cassandra whispered. "Not at all." Campbell didn't believe her, not until he finally was allowed back home and saw it for himself. Sam was crying, and wouldn't stop crying. When Campbell tried to see him, to talk to him, their parents shooed him out of the room. The days dragged on with no improvement. Take out containers piled up around the kitchen, and Campbell spent most of his time in his room. He'd try to read, or do puzzles, or kick a ball around the house. Alone. Always alone. Sometimes, he didn't see Sam for days. Even when he did, it was through the doorway of Sam's room, and Sam would just be laying in bed or screaming. Something inside Campbell snapped. Campbell remembered in vivid detail the day it happened. The day he changed. It was two weeks after Sam had come home. It had been over a month since Sam had first gotten sick. Every day had been worse than the last, with their mother sleeping at weird hours and their father growling at him at every little thing. He knew, in the way that five year olds knew, that his parents had to take care of Sam. But what about him? What about story time, or singing, or watching silly movies together? Things had just started feeling normal, and now it was all gone again. He was alone again. If Sam never got better, what would that even mean? He didn't know, and no one would explain. Campbell stood alone in the dining room, surrounded by clutter and white, dirty foam boxes that were starting to smell. That hot feeling was back, burning his chest, and Campbell had to let it out. He picked up one of the foam boxes and threw it. He threw another, and another, but it wasn't enough. That's when he picked up his toy ball, and hurled it into the living room. There was a loud crash, and his parents came running out. His mother said something, but Campbell didn't know what, because his father was already yelling at him. "What did you do that for?" his father shouted. "Your mother was trying to sleep. Don't you know how hard she has to work around here?" Campbell said nothing. "Answer me!" Silence. "Fine. Apologize to your mother and go to your room." Campbell opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wasn't sorry. He didn't feel bad. He didn't feel anything. He went to his room without a word, and he stayed there until he was called. And that was what life became, most days. Wake up, get dressed, wait to be called for breakfast, return to his room, stare at his plate at lunch and eat almost nothing, return to his room, pick at dinner, bathe and brush his teeth, and go to bed. Rinse and repeat. Some days he would go to see Cassandra, but they just sat on the swingset and stared out at the woods, without speaking. Nothing mattered anymore. What was there to talk about? When his parents caught him playing with matches, they hid them. When they caught him cutting holes in his clothes and in his bedding, they hid those, too. Forks and knives were moved to higher shelves when Campbell took to stabbing himself in the hand with them, just to see if it still hurt. It did, but he didn't cry. It just didn't matter. No one did anything, not even Aunt Amanda and Uncle Jim, not even when he yanked the heads off Allie's dolls and pushed Cassandra off a swing. Cassandra didn't cry. She just got up and kicked him in the shin, and that was the last time Campbell ever pushed her. Hurt someone, and they hurt you back. Except, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they'd let you. Once he turned six and entered kindergarten, he learned that when he got into a fight with another kid over a toy. Campbell punched the other kid in the face, and for a tiny moment, he felt happy. He felt excited. He wanted to feel that again, and so he picked fights with more kids over the span of a few days, until parents began to complain and teachers spoke to his mother and father after school. "If you keep fighting," Cassandra said when she came over to play, "they'll send you away to a special school." Campbell frowned. "You're lying." "Am not. I heard my mom say to your mom." After that, Campbell stopped fighting with the other kids. He stuck to himself, watching them while he played alone. He learned more about them that way-- their names, their likes, their dislikes. He learned what made them laugh and what made them cry. Sometimes at home, he would copy the way their faces looked when they were happy or sad. Campbell was bored. He felt itchy, like he wanted to move and keep moving but couldn't. He missed that feeling of excitement. But at least he wasn't being sent away, and the more he practiced being like the other kids, the less his parents yelled at him. It was good enough. A year passed. Sam was tutored at home, and Campbell learned from the tutor how to talk to Sam using sign language. It took about a year to be able to really have a conversation with his little brother; he didn't put as much effort into it as he knew he should have, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Sam was only four years old. Anything he really needed to say, he said to their parents. Sometimes he would ask Campbell to play, but Campbell was six years old and struggling to fit in with other first graders. He came home exhausted and frustrated, and would usually end up snapping at Sam. It wasn't a surprise when Sam began to distance himself. And it only got worse. Campbell was angry all the time and couldn't make it stop. Any time the teacher tried to make him do oral reports or work in groups with classmates, he would break down. He didn't know what was going on, and his parents simply brushed it off as him being difficult. Teachers looked the other way. Classmates began to whisper about him when they thought he couldn't hear. Campbell managed to keep himself from lashing out at Sam, but walls, plates, and other inanimate objects began to suffer worse than ever. "Why won't they listen?" Campbell asked Cassandra one day. "They never listen to me. They just spend all their time worrying about Sam." Cassandra shrugged. "Sometimes you have to make them listen." He didn't know how. He threatened to run away, to hurt himself. Nothing. Sam had become one of them-- only approaching him when their parents wanted to order Campbell to come to dinner or brush his teeth or do his chores. There was only one place in the world where Campbell felt like he could just be himself-- when he was with Cassandra, though their visits had grown fewer and farther in between as Campbell spiraled. Soon, her parents stopped letting him visit altogether. That loss of support was the finale straw. Campbell went into the living room weeks after his final visit with Cassandra. His parents had gotten Sam a bird for his birthday; they always gave Sam everything he wanted. Everything. Sam was the only one who mattered to them. Campbell stared at the little green and yellow thing, shrieking and flapping in its cage; he'd finally thought of a way to make his parents listen to him. He opened the window, then reached into the cage and grabbed the bird. Campbell threw the bird out the open window, and headed back up to his bedroom. It was about an hour before anyone noticed. He could hear Sam screaming, and their parents were at his bedroom door in minutes. "What did you do with Oliver?" his father boomed. "Do you have him?" Campbell barely blinked. "I don't have him." "Where did you put him?" "Outside." His mother stared at Campbell like he had two heads. "Why would you do that? What is wrong with you?" Those words hung in the air, and Campbell didn't know what to say. He just gazed back at her and shrugged, silent. They hauled him downstairs and shoved him out the door, demanding he take them to where he put Oliver. Campbell obeyed, hesitating when he didn't see Oliver anywhere. How far could a pet bird go? His father started yelling, like always. They kept pushing him to look harder, to tell the truth, to take them to the bird, but he couldn't. The bird wasn't where he'd left it. He was grounded, indefinitely. Sam wouldn't look at him. A few days later, their mother came inside with a shoebox, her face grim. They sat Campbell down, and showed him what was inside. Campbell stared at the dead bird, bile rising in the back of his throat. "Did you do this?" his mother asked. "No! I swear, I only let him outside." "Tell us the truth." "I am!" His parents exchanged a look. They didn't believe him. Campbell could tell. They left the room, and he could hear Sam wailing a few moments after. Campbell sat at the table, looking down at his hands as his thoughts raced. He hadn't meant this. He'd just wanted to upset Sam a little, get their parents to react. He just wanted them to talk to him, to take him to talk to someone. He wanted to feel like he mattered. Now, he just felt... empty. Lost. Sam came in. His eyes were red and swollen. He was still crying, and he was signing something at Campbell. Why. Over and over and over, just... why. Campbell didn't know how to answer. He'd never bothered to learn how to say things like because I'm angry, because mom and dad love you more, because I need help, because there's something wrong with me. So he just did what he did before, and said nothing. That was the first time Sam looked at him with hatred. Campbell stood and brushed past Sam, heading back to his room. Something twisted in his stomach, but he didn't know what. He couldn't tell, and he didn't want to. Like cancer, if it was named, it would be real. He didn't want any of it to be real.

He just wanted to fade away.

[niall-is-my-dream]

You & Me - Part Twelve

2440 words

Callie's POV

You stayed in Niall's bedroom for an hour after Kim and Sam had left. Curled up with each other on his bed, kissing, talking and kissing some more. Both of you agreed that you couldn't let everything that was happening with Saskia come between you. 

Niall had done nothing wrong, they'd dated, he decided to end it and he told her straight and kindly. He didn't ghost her or behave rudely to her, in fact you thought he had been too nice to her over the last few months. When she had turned up at rehearsals and at the Dublin gig, he had been polite to her, even when she was screaming at him for ending it. He had been verbally abused by her on numerous occasions and had taken it.

To say it broke your heart at how much it was affecting him was an understatement. His album was to be released in less than a month, he had interviews and performances to do. But he was a true professional and wasn't going to let it effect the buzz he was feeling at finally sharing his 18 months of hard work.

After the stress of the meeting with Kim and Sam, the group decided to chill out at home for Bex and Willie's last day in L.A. Although Saskia wasn't a physical threat to either of you, you were still worried about him, Mully and Willie going to the grocery store to get some supplies for a bbq.

"We will be fine." He said, as he ran his hands up and down your arms reassuringly before leaning in and kissing you goodbye.

He had been warned that although the court order prevented her from being near him, that didn't mean that she hadn't tipped off other paps to follow him with the prospect of an exclusive. Niall had a strict policy of never talking about his dating life. He was here to be a musician and talk about his music and interests, not his love life.

With the lads gone and the security gate and front door securely locked, you made your way through to the kitchen.  You were desperate to talk to Bex alone, she was always the voice of reason.

Making another coffee for you both, you sat down at the kitchen table, the patio doors open letting the lunchtime sun in.

"So the shit hit the fan then!" Bex said trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah it fucking did!" You laughed. "Honestly you couldn't even make this shit up."

"Only in Hollywood hey?!"

You nodded before taking a sip of your coffee.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm actually ok. I'm obviously sad and shocked that it's happened but I'm also angry. Like how could she do this to him? I just....... He's an amazing guy and she's ruining him all because he wasn't interested in her anymore."

"I actually feel sorry for her." Bex said and your head shot up. "Hear me out ok?" And you nodded. "These models are told how to look constantly, they work out a lot, they're constantly on a diet. I doubt her mental health is good because of it."

"I guess. She was just so rude and shallow, she thought a lot of herself."

"Yeah and that's what she is use to in the world in which she lives in. It's sad really, I mean does she even have a good set of friends. You and I are lucky we have each other you know? Does she have that? Someone to rely on? I doubt it. It's all fake."

"Doesn't excuse her awful behaviour though? I mean who texts someone and says she's going to ruin them?!"

"Doesn't excuse her behaviour at all. Please don't think I'm sticking up for her or trying to justify her actions. I'm just saying her way of life is very different to ours. Being ahead of the game and ruthless is something she's use to. She probably didn't even batter an eyelid when she messaged him that. Is he doing ok?"

"He says he is but I think it's really got to him. He's worried about telling his parents, he hates worrying them. Plus I need to tell my parents, God I haven't even told them we are dating, now I have to tell them this too. They aren't going to be happy."

 "I'd be more worried about Tom." She replied.

You ran your hand down your face and let out a massive sigh at the prospect of telling your older brother that not only had you got involved with Niall, which he had told you not to do. But you also had to tell him that Niall's crazy ex was stalking you both.

 "Maybe you should make sure that Claire is with him when you tell him." She smiled.

 "Oh God yeah, Claire needs to be there. Think I'll Skype my parents now actually before it gets too late." You said looking at the clock on the wall.

"Ok, well go in the living room and I'll be just in here if you need me."

"Thanks hun."

You were shitting it if you were being honest. You set up your iPad on the coffee table and sat down on Niall's big arse sofa. What was with this boy and his massive sofas? You knew your Mum would be reading on her iPad like she always did in the evening, so would see the request for a Skype call. Within seconds of calling she had answered.

"Hi baby girl!" She said excitedly. "How are you?"

"Hi Mum, I'm good. How are you?"

"Oh you know, same old. What about you? You've got a few days break haven't you? Where are you, in LA?"

You had given your parents a schedule of where you would be while you were away, even adding the time difference for them. Your Mum had panicked one time when you were in Canada for a show with another artist and she had forgotten the time difference. She couldn't work out why it took you 5 hours to reply to her text. You had been asleep in bed, as it was night time there.

"Um is Dad there? Want to talk to you both."

"Yeah he is, hang on." She said before the screen showed the artex ceiling as she made her way over to the sofa where your Dad was sitting.

He waved and blew you a kiss. You were a Daddy's girl, even at 25 your Dad still blew you a kiss when you skyped.

"Hi Dad."

"Hey sweetheart, everything ok?"

"Yeah, I just need to talk to you about something."

You told them that you and Niall had started seeing each other and their eyes widened. They hadn't been expecting that. When you told them about what was happening with Saskia, your Dad took off his glasses and sighed. He ran his hand down his face just like you had done in the kitchen not so long ago.

"So there's a restraining order, so she can't come near you or Niall?" Your Mum asked, her voice laced with worry.

"It'll be just to prevent her from coming near him, but it'll protect me and other crew members since we are all together on tour."

"What about the break next month, when you come home?"

"I'll be with Niall for a lot of that anyway Mum. Look, she's not going to hurt us. She's just not happy that he ended things and wants to make out that he cheated on her with me."

"And did he?" Your dad asked.

"No!" You replied shocked that he had asked you outright.

"Paul!" Mum gasped.

"I had to ask, you've been working with him for what ten months and nothing has happened until recently?"

You internally cringed at having this conversation with your parents.

"Yes, we have always just been good friends. He was single for a few months before we got together."

"So she's just jealous? This is just because she got dumped?" Mum asked.

"Pretty much."

"Wow, she sounds a little bit crazy." Dad said shaking his head.

"She is." You replied.

You heard the front door open, the sound of the lads chatting as they entered the house. Looking up you could see Niall place his bag on the ground and make his way over to you.

"I'm just on Skype with my parents." You said looking at him.

He nodded and came and sat next to you.

"Hi." He said nervously. He hadn't a clue what you'd said or what their reaction had been.

"Hi Niall." Your mum said. Your Dad just nodded, but smiled.

"So I've told them what's been happening." You explained to him.

"Ah." He replied, nodding. You could tell he was nervous. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm sorry that I have put your daughter in this position. I had no idea that Saskia was capable of this behaviour. I care about Callie a lot and...... " he paused for a moment. "Hopefully my legal team will be able to prevent her from coming near us and from publishing pictures of us going about our day to day stuff."

"Niall, we are sorry to hear that you've been going through this. Callie said that this girl has been harassing you for weeks. Your family must be worried." Your Mum said, that clear protective motherly tone coming through.

"I called them while I was out actually. My Mam is coming over to London when we get back for a few days to stay with me. They both know I've got a good team who look after me."

"Maybe we could meet you in person, if you have time while you're back?"

Oh god.

"I'd love that. I'll check our schedule and maybe we could all have dinner together at mine." He replied and took your hand in his.

Your Mum was definitely won over by him, she practically swooning at his offer to cook for you all. You could see your Dad ticking everything over in his head.

You ended the call not long after. Closing the iPad and placing it flat on the coffee table, throwing yourself backwards you landed on the sofa and let out a massive sigh of relief.

"They took that pretty well. My Mam freaked out, she's insisted on coming to London."

"Yeah they weren't too bad were they? Sorry they asked to meet you."

"Why are you sorry?" He replied as he crawled up the length of your body and settled himself between your legs. 

"Just a big thing isn't it, meeting the parents?"

"Should I not have invited them to dinner to meet my Mam to?" He asked as he leaned down to kiss your neck.

"Mmmm, you know talking about our parents whilst your kissing my neck and rubbing your erection against me is weird."

He laughed against your neck, but carried on regardless. You pushed your hands up through his hair and across the nape of his neck. 

"The things you do to me." He mumbled as he rubbed himself against you again.

"For fuck sake you two!" Willie smirked as he walked in the living room. "Get a room!"

"This is a room, in my own house!" Niall said, as he turned his head towards Willie.

Willie just laughed. "Come and get the bbq going you daft twat, there's plenty of time for that later." Before he left the room and headed towards the kitchen you presumed.

"We will finish this later Petal." He said smirking, before standing up and adjusting himself in his shorts.

You all changed into swimwear and grabbed some towels. The lads had brought a pop up football net at the grocery store, along with all the food you would need for the bbq. Niall had got it lit, leaving it to warm up while yourself and Bex got some salad ready in the kitchen.

It seemed almost crazy how easily the whole Saskia fiasco was forgotten as you consumed bbq food that afternoon and played games. Willie and Bex were due to get picked up at 8:30 that night ready for an overnight flight back to London Heathrow.

You always worried about her while you were away. Yes, she had other friends that she spent time with and a busy job, but you two were close. It felt good knowing that she had started dating Willie. While the lads tried to header the ball in the goal before falling in the pool with a splash, you and Bex had a catch up about her and Willie. Things had already got quite serious in the short space of time that they'd been together, similar to you and Niall. They text everyday and saw each other as much as their work schedules would allow. You could see how smitten they were with each other.

When it came to say goodbye to her that evening, you both cried like you always did. However it would only be just over a week before you could see her again back in England.

Over the course of the next few days Niall had a number of interviews and meetings for the album release next month. You kept yourself busy by going to the gym that Mark had recommended to you. Kicking the shit out of the punch bag always made you feel better. You didn't worry about feeling unsafe, it didn't even cross your mind, but Mully insisted on coming with you wherever you went.

With the Mexico leg of the tour cancelled due to an awful earthquake, you only had the Rio show to do before a 3 week break from tour. This was going to be a busy three weeks though with the album release and various interviews and performances. 

Niall was on form in Rio, the troubles of what had happened with Saskia over the last few months were firmly locked away and forgotten.

The legal stuff went through without a hitch, she hadn't contacted him and no stories had appeared in the press. 

Flying back to london after the show had felt good. Niall had a golf event to attend in Scotland which meant you had a few free days to spend with Bex and Willie playing the third wheel. It also meant it gave you chance to catch up with your brother and sister in law. You'd asked your Mum and Dad not to mention you and Niall to him, as you wanted to tell him face to face. You were not looking forward to it.

Part Thirteen

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/183397925828/you-me-part-thirteen

[justauthoring]

No One - Newt

Requests: the maze runner yes!! can i get an angsty newt imagine where the reader has been in the glade like as long as alby has, maybe longer and she’s kinda at her breaking point bc its been so long and newt is just trying to comfort her but its like a whole mess? thanks hun

Newt request please! You were the 2nd Glader in the maze, after Alby and when Thomas gets a crush on you, Newt gets protective! Thank you xx

Newt x reader imagine where in the Scorch or sometime in the death Cure the reader gets injured and newt is all worried

Warnings: attempt at sexual assault, yelling, all that sort of stuff. this is a darker themed story, but let’s be honest - if you really were the only girl in the glade, not every boy would be chivalrous.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Requests are CLOSED!!!

-

Every since the knew Greenie had arrived, he’d given you weird vibes.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t mentally hope that just once they’d send up a girl. Being the only female in a group of boys became repeatedly annoying, and while most of the boys you were surrounded by knew there boundaries, there was always the stereotypical cat-call. Or possibly the demeaning that came with the boys always saying you weren’t as physically strong as them, therefore had to be protected.

You held up your own well enough, and by now, given that you were the second Greenie to ever arrive in this God-forsaken place, you’d earned your place. Most of the boys cared for you, but knew better than to underestimate your strength. You were a runner, along side Minho, and you had just as much authority as Newt, next to Alby.

But of course, being the only girl did come with it’s cons. Every time there was a new Greenie and he was a boy, depending on the age, there was always the worry that maybe this boy just wouldn’t understand the rules that had been put in place given your role. Or maybe he wouldn’t care. By the seventh Greenie, you’d learn to grow use to being surrounded by boys. You’d even accepted the fact that, for an indefinite amount of time, it seemed like W.C.K.D. would only ever bring boys up.

But that didn’t make the fear any lesser. Yeah, you could hold up your own. But these were boys, and you had no idea who they were each time they came up or how they’d react to see one girl in a group of guys. 

Luckily the boys, specifically Newt, made it clear to every new Greenie that you were not to be touched or harassed in anyway. It usually came along with some threat, and in that moment, you didn’t really mind being protected. You trusted some of these boys with your life, namely Alby, Minho, Fry, Winston and of course, Newt.

You knew they wouldn’t let anything hurt you, or anyone, just like you wouldn’t let anything hurt them.

But something was different this time. This new Greenie, Aaron, just seemed off. It had only been his first day there, given that he’d arrived early in the morning, and ever since he’d been given the tour by Alby, all he would do as stare at you. Even now, late at night, when everyone was taking the chance to relax, you could feel a pair of eyes on your back. 

You shrugged it off, knowing that he’d already been given the talk. Aaron could stare all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything. Wouldn’t change where your heart lied.

Nestled into Newt’s side, you let his arm fall around his shoulder, taking a sip of your water as your eyes stared at the large doors that led to the maze. After a long day of running, you were promptly exhausted. Glancing back behind you, you knew Minho was as well. But full on festivities were on tonight, given the arrival of new supplies and of course, a Greenie.

The boys cheered and chatted, taking swings of Gally’s concoction which you had politely denied. Though, Newt still allowed himself to indulge in the rather... odd tasting beverage. 

You wanted to stay awake, you really did. All day running and finally you were able to be by Newt’s side, but you found it become increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open. And there was something more you had to do in the map room. So sadly, you had to get up,

Turning your head, you pressed a soft kiss against Newt’s cheeks, an immediate smile growing on his lips as you did so. When you pulled back, the hand that had been around your shoulder delved into the ends of your hair, caressing the back of your head. Cheeks slightly flushed, Newt smiled over at you; “going to bed, love?”

“Soon,” you nodded, smiling softly back. “I have to do one finally thing, then i’ll be heading to bed. You coming?”

Newt paused, glancing back at the group of boys partying around the fire, the reflection of it dancing in his eyes. You smiled as you saw his eyes twinkle. “I think i’ll stay with the shanks for a little while,” he explained as you nodded. “Okay?”

You nodded, “of course.” Pressing another quick kiss to his cheek, you stood up, pulling the sleeves of your shirt further down your arms. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t be out there for too long,” Newt called, watching you leave. 

“I won’t.”

And you really wouldn’t be, or at least, you didn’t hope to be. You hated walking to the map room late at night, but Minho had asked you to do one last thing, something he only trusted you to do, and you’d put it off for much too longer. So, you took quick strides, willing yourself not to glance around at the deep delves of trees around you. You knew it’d only freak you out more.

You didn’t notice the figure that followed you, and somehow, neither did you notice the stare.

At least, not until there was a sudden grip on your shoulder and you were aggressively pulled, your back smacking against the trunk of a tree. You groaned out as you felt your vision blur for a second, given that your head had also been aggressively smashed against the rough bark. You blinked a few times, trying to see who was before you. You prayed it was just one of the boys, maybe Minho or Newt, playing a prank on you. But you knew they’d never hurt you.

Swallowing thickly, you felt your vision finally clear and a pair of blue eyes staring down at you. A sudden bundle of panicked welled within you when you noticed that it was the Greenie, Aaron staring at you. Not to mention, that at this point he’d trapped between his arms on either side of your head and was leaning dangerously close to you.

“Agh,” you hissed, raising your hand to touch the back of your hand. You would’ve, had Aaron not grabbed your wrist and press it against the bark behind you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Greenie?” You hissed, eyes narrowing in the darkness of the night. You let your eyes fall back the way you came, your heart plummeting when you saw just how far you were from camp. There was no way anyone would be able to hear you, and you doubted Aaron was going to let you scream.

“You know my name,” the boy hissed back in response. “Remembered it earlier, remember?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, blinking. “And I don’t care. Get off me,” you huffed, struggling within his grasp. You raised your free hand to shove him off you, but Aaron grabbed that one two. It was then that the real panicked settled in - whatever (and you had a pretty good idea of what) Aaron wanted to do, he really wanted to.

“Sorry, princess, but no can do.” Aaron smirked, and even in the middle of the night, you could see the twinkle of mischief behind it.

Snarling your lip, your struggles increased tenfold. “I swear to God, you shank! Let me go!” As your panic rose, so did your anger.

Aaron only tightened his grip and you felt your breath get caught in your throat the moment he leaned in even closer to you, the lightest touch of his lips reaching your neck. “I’m curious,” Aaron whispered and you shivered in disgust when you felt his lips press a kiss against your neck. “You’re the only girl in this entire glade...”

What you’d been trying to deny seemed to slap you in the face as you felt Aaron slide his hand under your shirt. You tried to push him off you were your now free hand but with the way he was positioned, it was practically impossible. That didn’t mean you’d stop making this difficult for him though.

“How come that little blonde shank get’s you all to himself, huh?”

You snarled at the mention of Newt’s name, narrowing your eyes dangerously. “Because, it ain’t a pig like you, you damned shank.” You spat, pressing yourself even further against the tree when Aaron’s hand just reached the cup of your breast.

Biting your lip, you felt your eyes water with water. You were trying to think of a plan, but all thought was lost the moment you felt Aaron dig his teeth into your neck. A scream immediately left your lips, it echoing across the entire forest. You were about to scream out for help, wondering why you hadn’t done that before, but then Aaron’s hand clasped around your lips, digging the back of your head into the bark.

Your eyes fell shut as a sharp pain ran through your through, breathing becomingly increasingly more difficult.

“You little bitch!” He spat, his narrowing with anger. That same familiar terror you felt when you might not make it back into the glade after a day in the maze filled your stomach, and you so desperately wished that Newt had somehow heard your scream.

Letting go of your hand, Aaron pressed his knee in-between your legs, trapping you as his hands went to the hem of your shirt, ripping it up through the middle. A cry left your lips as he did so, lips parting to call out for Newt before Aaron’s hand was on your mouth again, his face dangerously close again.

“Not another peep,” he grounded out.

You didn’t even hear, in your panic, the sounds of footsteps running your way. The only time you realized someone was there when you saw a fist clash with the side of Aaron’s head, sending him to the ground Minho appearing before you. You let out a deep gasp the moment you realized his hands were gone from your lips, the tears finally falling from your ears.

You were about to collapse against the ground before two arms wrapped around, and you were in the familiar embrace of Newt. The moment you realized it was him, you latched on to him tightly, barely noticing the crowd of boys, that consisted of Alby, Fry, Winston and more, as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, love,” Newt whispered, his hand falling on the back of your head. You shuddered against his grip, your fingers practically digging into his own skin but Newt didn’t much mind. He was too busy glaring at the slowly steadying Aaron, who groaned out in pain.

Meeting Minho’s eyes, they both shared a look before Newt gently pulled back from your grasp. Smiling at you, he helped you to a stand. “Minho’s gonna get you to a medjack, okay?”

You shook your head rapidly as Newt cupped your cheeks, “don’t leave me...” You whispered.

“I’ll be right behind you, love,” Newt smiled, “there’s something I gotta do.”

Glancing back at Aaron, you clued in pretty fast to what Newt meant. And nodding solemnly, you walked over to Minho, his hand wrapping around your waist to steady you as he begun leading you off.

Newt might not look like much, but when it came to you, that didn’t matter.

“Look,” Aaron begun, raising his hands. “I didn-”

He never got to finish his sentence before Newt delivered a sharp punch across his cheek, sending him to the ground once again. Towering over him, Newt glared down at him; “I told you, no one touch’s Y/N.” Without another word, Newt promptly turned and left, running to catch up with you.

“Bind his wrists,” Alby called after a moment, “tomorrow, he’s banished.”

-

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

[medea10]

Medea Rambles - Vic Mignogna

Fuck.

I know I’m going to regret writing this and WILL end up with backlash no matter what side I choose in the matter. So this post is the equivalency of shooting myself in the foot. No matter.

I just feel like saying something. Free speech and all that mess.

If you’re unaware of who this man is with the funny sounding last name, this man is named Vic Mignogna. For years he’s been well-known in the anime community as a very prominent voice actor. Many fans (myself included) was introduced to him when watching the English dub to Full Metal Alchemist where he plays pint-sized alchemist Edward Elric. And from then on, fell in love with his voice.

Well, I mean he was okay. Vic wasn’t really my favorite voice actor, but he was still very good. I always loved his voice in Full Metal Alchemist, Soul Eater, and Ouran High School Host Club. But others are absolute, can’t breathe without him, ride-or-die fans of Vic Mignogna and his work in anime, video games, and the Star Trek videos he does with his buddy Todd Haberkorn. In years past, he would always be seen as one of the best English voice actors of all time.

In the past ten years, I’ve seen Vic get some pretty harsh criticism from all across the board. First of all, he was seen as a homophobic. Then there were those who were SICK of hearing his voice everywhere in the anime world. Then they started attacking his Christianity. And other things like he’s mean to people around him, he’s an arrogant so-and-so, he won’t sign this thing I gave him so he’s a buttbag for life, he’s an Anti-Semite, he’s the devil, and so on and so forth. I truly felt sorry for him in some aspects. While I disagree with much of his stances on certain subjects and the homophobia thing was kind of a big driving point for me to dislike him, I wasn’t going to boycott animes that have his voice in it and call him Fuckface McFuck. But despite all that, his loyal fans would stand by his side.

But I think people started to warm up a little to him again a few years back when he attended an anime convention as a guest and got into a shouting match with some random bible-thumper. No matter what anime convention you go to, 9 times out of 10 there will always be some FuckCock holding a bible telling all of us we are going to Hell. And Vic stood up and said that is bullshit. Yeah, that was one moment where I was happy with Vic and proud that someone was ballsy enough to shutdown random Joe Jesus Jr. on the street.

I really wish I could have had the chance to meet him at a con. There was so much for him to sign for me. But alas, he never did make it to the Bay Area (excluding Sacramento, I refuse to travel all the way up there). Because after this next part, I don’t think we’ll ever be hearing from Vic again.

In January 2019, the anime community learned of several sexual harassment and assault charges filed against Vic Mignogna. Many of these claims go back to 2008 (maybe further).  More here. Yeah, the #MeToo movement has nailed a lot of sexual offenders. From Hollywood elites like Harvey Weinstein, to political figures like *too many to fucking count*, to people in the sports world like Larry Nassar. In the wake of this movement, many victims felt it was time to step out of the darkness and tell the world their story.

First of all, everyone is different. Not everyone who’s been assaulted is going to go straight to the police. Some hide this shame for years, decades, so on. When someone is sexually assaulted, a lot of things go through their minds. And the biggest thing is FEAR. Fear of what the assaulter will do if you speak up. Fear of the consequences of speaking out. Fear of what the assaulter will do next. Fear of someone else falling victim to the assaulter. Fear of losing your career. And so on. Many of us choose to stay quiet for fear of no one believing us. Many of us choose to stay quiet for fear of being labeled as a slut or being in the wrong and that we should know better.

But I feel like the wake of the #MeToo movement has encouraged victims to come forward. Especially if their assaulter is someone in a position of power and want to make sure that no one else suffers the way they did. And I’m sure Vic Mignogna’s victims felt the same way. Even though he’s a voice actor and goes to conventions. However with his popularity, it can be VERY intimidating coming out with anything of the sort.

From the looks of many of these accounts, they definitely feel ewwie due to the fact that many of them were underage. And from what I’ve seen so far is about the same level as what Al Franken did. Could there be other victims? Possibly. Could there be worse stories out there that go beyond the too-close-for-comfort kiss/hug? Possibly. And we probably will never know.

Many of Vic’s colleagues have had mixed feelings. Some have come to the defense of Vic and some have taken the side of the victims. And one even came out with her own experience with Vic. More here. As for the fans.

IT. IS. FUCKING. HELL.

I’ve seen it all in the last three weeks all over the internet. And quite frankly, it’s starting to remind me of the stupid crap that happened when R. Kelly was in trouble in the early 2000s (before what we know now). It’s either #KickVic or #IStandWithVic. If you stand with Vic, people see you as a rapist-enabling cunt and if you hate Vic, you’re seen as a lib-tard, SJW, crybaby, snowflake. I’m quite sick of seeing this getting to the magnitude it’s getting to.

The actions of Vic, again, to me they don’t seem that big. However, I’m looking at it through someone who is in her early 30′s. If I was a teenager meeting him for the first time and having him give me unwanted and unprovoked hugs and kisses, I might feel something different. Especially since this is a complete stranger. The story that was shared by Jamie Marchi however makes me think that, yeah Vic did some shady shit. But that’s just what I think.

But the fans are getting out of hand. Voice actors are being harassed for even talking about this. Victims are getting death threats. And that’s another thing I would like to go off on! Why would you do that to someone who’s clearly been through a lot? Why would you send someone who came out after years of suppressing an ugly moment in their lives a fucking death threat? What did they ever do to you personally? NOTHING. They just exposed someone who isn’t even related to you and have no connection to at all after something that felt uncomfortable to them. People like you are the reason Dr. Ford STILL TO THIS DAY can’t even go back home. So knock it off!

When other voice actors in the anime community wound up in extreme trouble, fans were not shy about dumping them like rotten potatoes. The names Scott Freeman and Illich Guardiola come to mind. Then again, both of these guys did stuff far worse than Vic, so I’ll leave it at that.

As of today (February 11th, 2019), FUNimation released a statement via Twitter stating that they have no plans to use Vic in future productions. Yeah, I’m sad on one fact. I’m sad that if any of the shows he was very prominent in, he won’t be there. Which makes me wonder what’s going to happen when Free! returns in 2020. I don’t know, maybe they can get Bryce Papenbrook to play Rin. But I digress. This was a man with a lot of talent and revered as one of the greatest voice actors of all time.

BUT THAT’S STILL NO EXCUSE! People like Vic think they can get away with anything or are invincible because of the status and power they carry. And people like that make me sick. And currently watching that in our political system and real life is just more nauseating. That’s why anime is my one outlet away from shit like this. And then Vic Mignogna reared his head in. While I am skeptical about some of the victim claims, I cannot in good conscience defend Vic.

I’m glad FUNimation isn’t shying away from this and taking the effort to cut ties from Vic. The company does have to consider the safety of the other employees that work there. I will always remember him for roles he’s done in the past (and God help the community if we ever get an Ouran sequel). And that one time fighting that one bible-thumper prick! But that’s it. I can’t support this man’s innocence. Nope. Not gonna happen.

That’s all I feel like saying.

Splash on the Hate-o-rade in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

[im-nora-ephron-bitch]

Kadena prompt where Kat is reacting on some death threats she saw in Adena’s inbox .. if you got any ideas

She’s always proud of her girlfriend.  She’s especially proud of her art work.  In fact, Kat finds Adena’s artwork to be the most inspiring stuff she has ever seen.  Kat was no art snob or anything, in fact half the time she struggled to get what she was really looking at.  But there was something about Adena’s pieces that made it all click.  They weren’t just photographs to her, they were stories, they were movements, they were reflections of life.

Adena’s latest photo series was one of Kat’s favorites.  It showed the various protests throughout the country over the past few months, and it highlighted distress: politically and socially.  It wasn’t political leaning in one direction or another, it was just an honest depiction of what was going on and Kat loved it.

Kat was so obsessed with it that she was spending most of her work day scrolling through Adena’s instagram page looking at some of the photos she had posted.  For the most part she was too busy beaming with pride that she didn’t think to look at the comments.  The first few she saw were a bunch of heart emojis, which obviously.  She then happened to see Jane and Sutton had each commented on a few, which she immediately liked and responded.  Then Kat had made the mistake of continuing to scroll through the comments and found a large patch of pretty horrific ones.

Comments telling her beautiful, thoughtful, peaceful girlfriend that she was a “dumb bitch”.  Comments mocking her girlfriends religion.  Comments telling her generous girlfriend that she should “go back to where she came from”.

The more she read the more her blood boiled.  The more enraged she became. “Are you kidding me?” She mumbled out loud. She jumped up from her desk and went to the closet to go and find Jane or Sutton.  Luckily, they were both in there already eating their lunches and gossiping about Sutton’s latest boy drama.  “Look at this!” She yelled throwing them both her phone.  

“I saw this already and I already liked it, and commented with the heart eyes emoji.  I’m basically a more supportive girlfriend than you,” Sutton remarked, dismissing Kat’s phone.

“No! The other comments!” Kat rolled her eyes as Jane continued to scroll, looking just as outraged.  

“This is awful, and so ignorant,” Jane groaned, finally putting the phone down.

“Right?” Kat grabbed her phone and began furiously replying to the offensive commenters.

“Wait, Kat.  Don’t feed the trolls, especially on Adena’s page,” Jane snatched the phone from Kat who looked even more annoyed now.

“I’m not just going to let them say this horrible crap about her,” Kat responded indignantly.  “Especially when half of it is just uninformed and completely wrong.” Kat reached to get her phone from Jane, but Sutton slapped her hand away.

“All true points, but that’s Adena’s page and maybe let her deal with her own harassers?” Sutton suggested.

Kat glared at her friends, but knew they were right.  She knew that Adena would not appreciate her intervening and causing a flame war on her Instagram page. So instead she just resolved to pout for the rest of the day until she would see Adena later.

Despite her better judgment, Kat continued to angrily scroll through Adena’s comments, resisting every urge in her to not reply to every single one or go to their Trump-loving pages and comment on their personal pictures herself.   She was so wrapped up in her rage that she didn’t hear her apartment door unlock. “Hello!” Adena called from the door and Kat immediately put her phone down.

“Hey babe,” Kat jumped up from the couch and helped Adena put her grocery bag down on the floor, and immediately pulled Adena into a kiss.  

“Mmm what a welcome,” Adena laughed and put her arms around Kat’s waist, giving her another kiss, before going to put the groceries away.

“So…how was your day?” Kat asked, helping Adena put some veggies in the fridge.

“Pretty good, just met with a gallery for the new photo series,” Adena was reaching up to put a can on a shelf, but couldn’t reach, and Kat gladly turned around and grabbed it for her. “Thank you.  How was your day?”

“Well…I was stalking your instagram all day showing all my friends my hot girlfriend’s new project,” Kat winked, but also fishing in her head to bring up the rude comments.

“How sweet.  You can tell Sutton she doesn’t need to comment on every single picture,” Adena joked.  “Not that I mind, of course.”

Kat laughed a bit but also used Adena’s reference to comments as her opportunity.  “So you read comments on your pictures?”

Adena shrugged a little bit and leaned against the counter.  “I skim them.”

Kat nodded and looked down at her feet, flashing back to all of the comments she had read before.  “Oh, okay.” She wanted Adena to mention them so she didn’t have to.  She wanted Adena to be just as mad as she was.  She wanted for her temper to not be so quick to rise, but unfortunately it was way too late for that.

“Something you want to share, Kat?”

When she met Adena’s eyes she couldn’t hide anything, because like always Adena could just see right through her.  

“Look, I know it’s not my business.  But what the hell with all of these ignorant, racist, white, Trump-loving, assholes commenting on your page?” Kat blurted it out, her blood boiling again as she started to pace around her kitchen while Adena just stood there watching her.  “I mean these people don’t even know you! Or your art! How dare they just go to your amazingly beautiful pictures and say such horrible things? And how are not more mad about this?!” Kat finally exclaimed directing her anger towards Adena unintentionally.  

“Kat, love,” Adena sighed and stepped forward, putting her hands on Kat’s shoulders to steady her and look in her eyes.  “I adore you for getting so riled up for me, and wanting to defend me.  But this is what it means to be an artist.  People from all walks of life will comment and interpret it differently. It’s not pleasant, but also part of the job.”

Adena’s calm caused Kat to calm herself, and she took a deep breath.  

“I just don’t like people saying hurtful things about you,” Kat pouted a little bit and put her hand on the small of Adena’s back, pulling her a little closer.  

“I know, it’s hard to read for me too…that’s why I skim the comments and not fully read them,” Adena stated, and brushed Kat’s cheek with her hand.

Kat took another deep breath in.

“Okay, but if anyone ever says anything like that to your face I can’t promise I won’t go off,” Kat looked at Adena fairly sternly.  “I mean I went to jail for you once before, and I hadn’t even seen you naked yet.”

Kat joked and the pair both laughed.

“Oh my, imagine what kind of damage you would do to that white supremacist now?” Adena joked back.  

Kat smiled happily, feeling her rage from earlier melt away and replaced with nothing but love and pride for her amazing talented girlfriend, and pulled Adena back into her tightly, whispering, “I’ll always keep you safe.”

[anotherimaginescollection]

Can you write a oneshot where baby Danvers (Kara and Alex's little sister) is a fashion and beauty blogger, and kara and alex are always asking her for fashion advice?

Fashion was one ofthose things that I had always loved. I’d dreamed of getting into the businessas a kid, and done almost everything in my power to get there. I had made thedesigns, I had gone to the different shows and kept up to date with everythingfrom fashion to beauty, from the newest things on the high-street to anythingthat harked back to the history of the stuff, just to get a betterunderstanding of where the new fashion might be coming from.

Initially the blogshad been a little side project, a collage of ideas that I’d found, a way ofkeeping tabs on things, of sorts. But soon they gathered a following, peoplelooked to them for advice, and I was getting questions from people, requests onwhat they wanted to see at some point in the future. All this lead to the thingbecoming my job, something that I loved, something that was a constant source ofjoy for me.

A knock on the doorstartled me. I glanced up from the latest blog entry that I was writing andfurrowed my brow. There wasn’t anyone I could think of that might come see meat the moment. Most people I knew were at work, and I’d soon be heading off tothe café for a change of scenery.

With a sigh Iquickly saved my work and moved to open the door. Kara all but bundled herselfinto the room, looking a little more harassed than even I was used to.

‘Hey, Kara,’ Isaid, moving aside to give her room, worry flaring inside my chest.

‘Hi,’ she said,rounding on me. Despite her worry there was something about the fact thefamiliar crinkle had formed between her eyebrows that told me this wasn’t lifeor death. This was, thankfully, something far more mundane than needing helpwith the latest alien threat. ‘I was wondering, could you help me pick out anoutfit for my date?’ The words came out in a string of rambling, as if on asingle breath.

I chuckled, shakingmy head slightly as I motioned for the table. ‘Of course I can, silly,’ Iassured her, shifting to get my usual folder out. I might not know every outfitthat Kara had in her wardrobe, despite what she and Alex seemed to thinksometimes, but I had a very good idea of what made Kara look and feel her best.

Not ten minuteslater I had sorted out the right thing for her, suggested a hairstyle that wentwith it, and ensured that there was a way for her to be ready for anythingSupergirl related if it unfortunately reared its ugly head.

‘Just enjoy it,’ Itold her, hugging her at the door.

‘I dunno what I’ddo without you sometimes,’ murmured Kara before pulling away.

‘Go out in ahessian sack,’ I teased, smirking at her. ‘Though, I’m pretty sure you couldpull that off, annoyingly.’

She laughed, placeda quick kiss on my forehead, murmured thanks and then was gone.

I sighed, gentlyshutting the door. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, for either of mysisters. Turning up in a panic about something or another fashion wise. Alex’squestions tended to err on the side of skincare as well, one issue that Karanever had to deal –

My thought was cutoff by the sound of my phone, the ringtone assuring me that it was Alex.

‘Do you two planthis or something?’ I teased, grinning as I sat down on the sofa.

‘Kara just come becauseof the date?’ asked Alex, she sounded calm about the whole thing, I could hearthe slight smile.

‘Of course. I thinkhe should appreciate the little number she’s got. And if not he has no taste.’

Alex laughed. ‘Anyway,I’m sorry –’

‘No you’re not, youlove these conversations.’

‘– but I waswondering,’ she continued, and I could practically see the eye-roll that came withthe interruption, ‘I’ve got an undercover thing to do. I need the makeup to be elegant–’

‘But not streamdown your face if it rains or you get sweaty or whatever?’ I finished, alreadymoving to flick through some of the products that might help. ‘I’ll send youover the design, and I think you already have the makeup in question.’

‘You are alifesaver,’ she breathed, causing me to shrug modestly.

‘Isn’t that justthe Danvers way?’ I asked, beaming, glad that I could help them both withsomething like this, that nothing had ever changed between us on that front.

[queenofcats17]

Guess who~ More prompts! -"you said you wouldn't laugh" -"it's definitely safe here... probably" - "gosh darn friendo imma diddly darn snap your neck" (basically bendy trying to find ways to be menacing and avoid swearing, cause sound effects, and freak someone out) (bonus points if someone cries!)

The last one gets kinda dark, so…sorry

“Sammy, I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” Susie said, knocking on Sammy’s office door.

“I look ridiculous.” Sammy’s said. Somehow, Sammy had gotten turned into a toon again. It was honestly becoming a bit of a problem. Wally had suffered the same fate as well, although he was handling it quite a bit better than Sammy. Perhaps that was due to the fact that Joey had given him the day off due to his toonification, allowing the janitor to go mess around and pull gags with the toons. Sammy was not taking it so well. He’d thrown a blanket over himself and made a beeline for his office. Susie had been sent after him.

“Sammy, I won’t laugh at you, I promise,” Susie said. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You promise?” Sammy’s voice was small.

“Yes, Sammy. I promise.”

The door opened a crack, then fully. Sammy had the blanket draped around his shoulders, but Sammy could clearly see how his body had been simplified. He was smaller, thinner, his appendages more like noodles than actual body parts. Pie cut eyes stared nervously out from under a fringe of what used to be dirty blond hair. He looked a lot younger without those frown lines and bags under his eyes.

“Are those…wings?” Susie asked, trying to stifle laughter.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Sammy said, stamping his foot. His little wings bristled and his halo shone.

“I’m sorry.” Susie bit her lip. “You just look so adorable.”

“I don’t want to be adorable!” Sammy groaned, retrieving his blanket and throwing it over himself as he retreated back into his office.

“It’s not that bad.” Susie closed the door behind her. “I mean, it’s happened enough times that I’m sure Joey has a way to fix it.”

“The fact that it keeps happening is worrying enough,” Sammy muttered.

“So…” Sammy slid in next to him on the cot. “How does it feel?”

“What?”

“How does it feel?” Susie repeated. “To be a toon, I mean.”

“I feel a heck of a lot grumpier,” Sammy said after thinking for a moment. “Like I want to go nag everyone about everything.”

“Well, I suppose if you were a supporting character, you would be a bit of a grump.” Susie rested her head on his shoulder. “But that can’t be all. Have you tried playing music?”

“Didn’t seem worth it.” Sammy held up his hands. “I don’t know how to play with only four fingers.”

“Have you tried pulling something out of hammerspace?”

Sammy opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Huh.”

“You haven’t, have you?” Susie laughed, sitting up. “Why don’t you try? Toon instruments will work for you.” Sammy shrugged off his blanket and screwed up his face. It took a few tries for him to finally get something out. Sammy kept getting too into his head. Susie wasn’t surprised when he finally pulled out an animated banjo.

“What do you want to hear?” He asked, grinning at Susie. She made a big show of thinking about it before answering.

“Willow Weep For Me.” She said.

“You got it.” Sammy closed his eyes and began playing. He knew the song so well he didn’t even have to think to play anymore. Susie listened happily. Sammy’s voice was normally very nice, but now it was downright angelic. She couldn’t help but swoon a little, sighing dreamily and leaning against him. Sammy paused.

“What?” He asked.

“Keep singing.” She said, kissing his cheek.

“Well, alright.” And so he did.

.

.

“FRANKS!” Murray Hill’s voice boomed throughout the studio as Wally Franks, Boris, Bendy, and Alice skidded around a corner and into the depths of the studio, all grinning and laughing uncontrollably.

“Golly, he’s really mad,” Boris said.

“He’ll get over it,” Wally said, pressing the button for the lift. “Let’s go see Shawn next.”

“Oh no,” Bendy said. “Flynn’ll kill us if we mess with his stuff. You know he will.” Wally turned to them, a grim comparable to Bendy’s gracing his toonified face.

“So?” He asked. “Plus, we can just hide in Alice’s area if things get bad.”

As it turned out, things did get bad. The quartet streaked into Alice’s meet and greet area, trying to ignore Shawn’s rather colourful threats.

“It’s definitely safe here,” Wally whispered. “….Probably.”

“I told you he’d try to kill us.” Bendy hissed.

“Hows was I supposed to know the coffee machine broke?!”

“Y’know kid, sometimes you gotta think through your gags.” Bendy continued. “Decide who’ll be most receptive to the gag.”

“Who will give you the best payoff and all that.” Alice made a vague hand gesture.

“I KNOW YOU’RE IN HERE!” The door slammed open and Shawn came storming in, covered head to toe in ink and absolutely seething. He was followed by Thomas, who was making half-hearted attempts to stop him.

“You can’t kill them.” He said.

“I CAN DAMN WELL TRY!” Shawn snapped. “NOW WHERE ARE YOU LITTLE BASTARDS?!”

“No use running now, huh?” Wally’s shoulders slumped. It was then that Bendy got a mischievous look in his eyes. He glanced at Boris, who grinned.

“Whoever said anything about giving up?” Bendy said. As Shawn approached the back of the room, the quartet popped up, all grinning.

“Heya Shawn,” Bendy said. “How’s it going?”

“You know damn well how it’s going!” Shawn stalked forward, pointing an accusing finger at the four toons. The toons continued to smile innocently.

“What? A little ink getting you down?” Wally asked. “It’s just another day at Joey Drew Studios, right?”

“Why you little-” Shawn grabbed for Wally, only for the toon to slip out of his grasp, making a break for it along with the other three. Thomas just stood in the doorway, smoking.

“That’s toon logic for ya.” He said. Shawn muttered some very unsavoury words and went to go get cleaned up.

.

.

So, they’d gotten Wally and Sammy all fixed up, although Boris was sad to lose a mischief partner. Now they had to get back to work. It was a bit of a letdown after how exciting the previous few days had been for Bendy. But oh well. Life went on. And as long as Joey wasn’t doing weird black magic stuff, everything was fine. Although, Bendy had run into a new problem. One of the new interns was being an asshole to everyone. Now, Bendy absolutely could not let this stand. No one made the people in his studio feel unsafe. Especially not some snot-nosed brat! So he was going to talk to the kid.

“This is a bad idea.” Allison trailed after him, fidgeting quite a bit. “He’s going to blow up at you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Relax, Alli,” Bendy said. “It’ll be fine.” He went straight to the animation department and tracked the kid down. He was in the middle of slacking off and throwing crumpled up paper balls at other interns.

“Hey. Kid. I need to talk to you.” Bendy said, folding his arms.

“Hello, sir.” The intern immediately tried to look like he was busy. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve gotten reports that you’ve been harassing other employees and I’ve got half a mind to talk to Joey about it,” Bendy said. The intern’s eyes widened, then narrowed.

“Don’t you dare.” He said, picking up a bottle of acetone. “I won’t let you.” He kept his voice low, but nonetheless, Allison shrieked and ran off to get Joey. No one looked up since Allison screaming and panicking wasn’t exactly commonplace.

“So you’re just gonna kill me. In front of everyone.” Bendy said, coolly.

“I’ll say it’s an accident.” The intern smiled. “It’s not like you can do anything, right?”

“Gosh darn friendo, Imma diddly darn snap your neck.” Bendy’s form began to change, shifting from that of the friendly toon everyone loved to the monster Joey had summoned. By the time Allison returned with Joey, the intern was on the floor crying, while Bendy stood over him with a proud look on his face. The intern was swiftly fired, and everyone scrambled to get things back to normal.

[wtfallonauthor-blog]

Obviously, this is satire. I am not using the White House microwave to eavesdrop on the president scrawling his speech in crayon.

Congratulations to all of you who get to hear the best State of the Union address ever…since last year. I know those of you at home are enjoying it too, because your TV is spying on you. And if not your TV, then your microwave.

First, I want to tell you the state of the Union is great, because I am making America great again! BUT, we still have much to fear, because there are caravans of people from all over the world and maybe even Mars… and a couple parallel universes, see why we need Space Force…  everywhere coming to take what’s ours!

There are so many people to fear, I don’t know where to start—oh wait, yes, I do, yes I do. The gravest threat facing our country today is poor people! You know they’re all out to take your hard-earned money. Not mine, because I store mine offshore, but definitely all of yours. Do you know most poor people work multiple jobs? Where do you think those jobs come from? They come from you, and then you don’t have any money!

State of the Union Leaked Draft

And then those nasty poor people want welfare, folks, they want welfare, even though they’ve taken jobs from the good, hardworking people like you, they still want welfare. Can you believe that? They want free healthcare, free college, a free place to live—who do they think they are, my family?

Then, once they’ve taken all your money, they want to raise the minimum wage. Don’t they know how hard life is for CEOs and shareholders these days? Don’t they know raising the minimum wage to fifteen dollars an hour will force big companies to blame their regular price increases on a higher minimum wage? Don’t they know the damage to our economy when a CEO is forced to limit himself to only five summer homes in the Hamptons? It’s an absolute disaster!

And you know what’s an even bigger disaster than our own citizens robbing the rich? Foreigners. Foreigners who are out to take those high-paying jobs available to everyone with a first grade education in this great country! Foreigners who want to take welfare from the poor mooches who were lucky enough to be born in this great country. Let me tell you, those illegals will rob our poor of every dime they just fleeced from the rich, before they can even spend it on beer and cigarettes. Then they’ll start committing serious crimes—coming after the rich!

There’s another big threat facing this country too: Women. It’s a scary time to be a man, guys, because these days you can’t harass women anymore without them getting all sensitive and snowflakey about it. Can you believe it, now women you don’t even know want you to ask permission before you grab ’em by the pussy? Why do they hate men?

Getting back to pussies, have I mentioned I’m taller than Obama? And I had a bigger crowd at my inauguration? You wouldn’t believe the crowd size! Everyone wanted to see me make America great again.

And I have, but we can’t forget all the threats facing us. We can’t forget the threat of the well-educated. The well-educated are scary because they’re always trying to confuse good, honest, Americans with annoying things like “facts”‘, and I don’t mean the good, safe, alternative kind. The scientists are especially dangerous. Do you know they’ve formed a cabal and created the hoax of global warming? Well, the Chinese helped, but mostly, it was the scientists, folks. It was the scientists. If those people have their way, they’re going to put solar panels on everything, and then how will I get a tan after we use up all the sun running our electricity? Fortunately, my Secretary of Donation Education, Betsy DeVos, is working tirelessly to ensure American students are educated properly on the scourge of environmental hoaxes like climate change. She’s asked me to remind our young viewers to think logically: How can the globe be warming up when the Earth is flat?

As if the scientists aren’t bad enough, then we have LGBT people. Make no mistake, they have an agenda to convert everyone to their sexual preferences. Remember back when America was great, you could turn on the TV and see only straight people kissing each other. Back then, we didn’t have gay people or transgender people or arguments about who used what bathroom. There were no gay people until the gays invaded the media!

It gets worse, it gets worse. Then there are the foreign threats. Mexico is sending rapists and murderers, and Canada is trying to steal our citizens by dangling the carrot of free healthcare. And Norway refuses to send us any more limmigrants because they claim most of their citizens don’t want to move here—even though I’m making America great again! And don’t even get me started on all the people from shithole countries who want to come here and get on welfare, shaking our poor billionaires down worse than our own poor, lazy citizens already have. It’s a disgrace, an absolute disgrace.

And don’t forget, there are the young liberals, like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who want to turn America into a shithole country like Venezuela. First of all, our oil reserve is bigger than Venezuela’s, much bigger. Second…has anybody seen her birth certificate? Where was she born? How about that Robert Mueller guy, anyone seen his birth certificate? Just curious…and fourth, liberals are all communists, and they want us all standing in line for toilet paper and vodka, and don’t you forget it!

You know why the liberals are doing this? Because they want to give everyone free stuff. It’s like on Oprah. You know I have better ratings than Oprah? I have better ratings. And I never gave away free stuff on my TV show. Better ratings than Swarzennager too. Anyway, free stuff. You get a car, and you get healthcare, and what do the rich get? They get all their tax breaks mercilessly ripped away, and that’s just not right. It’s not right, folks, it’s not right. Billionaires should not have to pay taxes, because they earned their money. Me, for example. I earned my money the day I was born into it, and I’ve been earning it ever since. And I’ve never stopped working for other billionaires like myself, good, hardworking people who only want to preserve the fortunes they earned by being born into the right family, growing up, going bankrupt going to bed with hot supermodels to Wharton, and hosting the most popular TV show that even got better ratings than Oprah, Swarzennager, and Hillary Clinton!

But don’t worry folks, there is a solution here. There’s a way I can protect you from all this pain and misery. Simply donate to my reelection campaign! You can pay online by credit card, or mail a check directly to the Kremlin. Thank you for hearing the greatest speech in history, until next year.

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V. R. Craft is the author of Stupid Humans, a science fiction book series that asks the question, “What if all the intelligent humans abandoned Earth—and we’re what’s left? She is also the author of the political satire, Fail to the Chief, in which she envisioned the presidential election as a reality show. More of a reality show….

  State of the Union Leaked Draft Obviously, this is satire. I am not using the White House microwave to eavesdrop on the president scrawling his speech in crayon.