#I’m only in my 30s for Christ’s sake
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I know this should stop being surprising to me at some point, but do the people crying for us to not ship snarry (or any adult/any minor or aged up character that was once a minor) know how old these ships are? Like, I was shipping Snarry pretty aggressively after ‘The Tea Series’ came out in, IIRC, 2001. For like, the next 20 years all was good until suddenly (and it was suddenly) kids in droves decided morality should apply to all fiction. I still get whiplash from this. Like, do the kids actually think they are going to change my mind? Or are they just having a morality circle jerk with themselves?
Like, I get teen sex is down from when I was in high school. That’s great! But…some of us had great sex in high school too. Like, you can’t pretend like we weren’t screwing in high school, sometimes with college guys. It was not a small number of us either. Most adults I know were banging in high school. Some of us also may have had fantasies about our teachers (LOOK one of my substitute teachers was a Marlboro Man model ten years before he started teaching, you damn right I thought he was fucking hot).
But that’s the fantasy. That’s what we write. You can’t say our experiences are not worthy to translate to fiction. Snape is like my Marlboro Man and Harry is me. This is valid. Every adult had these kinds of fantasies when they were younger (ie: ‘Hot for Teacher’ by Van Halen). And it’s fun to revisit those fantasies in fiction…because that’s where fantasies live. In fiction. Amazing.
Snarry, Snamionie, Snaco, and whatever else, is not going anywhere.
#snarry#otp#rant#I guess#it’s just perplexing to me#I know I’m old#I don’t understand the youth#I’m only in my 30s for Christ’s sake
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⋆☀︎。Smile Back ... At Me ⏾⋆.˚
Grumpy!Vessel x Sunshine!Reader
grumpy/sunshine, sickfic, housemates, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff goes smut
a/n: there's easter eggs in here for three people 🧍🏻♀️
Taglist (that I decided I have now): @inv3ga
“No no no. Don’t do this. Please. Please!” Vessel was distraught. Panicked. Verging on crisis. He stared at himself in the mirror, white knuckling the vanity. “Get it together, Ves. Don’t…don’t.” His breath was ragged…”fuuuuuck...”
How many sneezes in a row was that? 5? Oh…oh they’re still going. You knock on the bathroom door softly. Vessel rips the door open with a scowl, his nose and eyes red from whatever irritant deigned to infect your intrepid workaholic housemate.
“What?” He asks, deadpan.
“I heard you sneeze like…8 times in a row. That’s concerning.”
“Yes. Thank you, doctor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get cleaned up and go to work.” He looks you up and down. “Think you ought to do the same?”
You look down for a second at your pjs and gasp. Work? “Oh shit! I…hey… wait a minute!” Vessel just titters as he splashes some water on his face. “It’s my day off!” Again, he chuckles and pushes past you. “You know for someone so crotchety with me you sure know a lot about my schedule!” But he’s already down the hall. Of the housemates, Ves was the one you had the least positive interactions with…and yet…you saw each other the most. It just worked out that way with your schedules. Ves could go to the studio or work from home at will, and you seemed always to be home at the same time.
“You’ve done this on purpose. To torment me.” Ves said once as his phone buzzed incessantly with notifications as you input your schedule in the shared housemate calendar. And, in your endlessly witty, carefree way, you responded “Aw Ves, finally you’re noticing all I do for you!” For the record, Vessel doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone. No. He’s just a little brusque. And short tempered. And he just likes things done a certain way, ok? You, on the other hand, seem too happy to be here. What are you plotting, he wonders sometimes.
But today those thoughts are dulled by a throbbing pain behind his eye and the annoying feeling of his nose leaking at any moment. By 2:30, he’s ready for a 20 year long nap. He rubs his face in agony as he sits at the control panel. Usually the studio is a reprieve but one of his worst nightmares is unfolding. He’s sick. He has a cold. A sinus infection? Christ…the flu? He has to push through. He has to see this day to the end and finish this…”fuck it I’m done. I’m going home.”
“Literally just asked how the cymbals sounded, man. For fuck’s sake.” Even poor ii wasn’t safe from Vessel’s sick tirade. The two share a silent look of “the hell is wrong with you/me?”
“Sorry mate,” Vessel rubs his temples and sniffs. “Uhm…yeah…there could be more…definition or whatever. I’ll see you lot later.” Vessel sulks out of the studio and towards the bus stop. If this was a comic strip, he’d be kicking a can with little fumes over his head. Vessel hates getting sick. It throws off his groove. Makes him unproductive. He’s no stranger to powering through but it doesn’t seem worth it this time around. This makes him feel weak. Like once he gets better he’ll need to work 10x harder just to make up for his time off. Make it up for who? Well…the label, for one thing. And ii. Part of his brain says “it’s only for yourself,” but he pushes that aside. Yeah he’s proud but he still needs to prove to everyone else he’s fine. He can manage. Hasn’t he always landed on his feet? Looking out the bus window at the passing houses and buildings doesn’t provide any distraction—just more fodder for his migraine. As Vessel rests his temple against the window, his phone vibrates, but he ignores it. Whatever it is couldn’t make him feel any worse...oh but he was wrong. So very wrong.
You: I’m sure you saw this on the calendar but it’s just us for the weekend. Are you still feeling sick? Want me to get some soup? Let me know. :)
You’re not surprised Vessel doesn’t reply to you. He’s at work and, well, you’re you. As you’re about to text him again, because you reaaaaalllllly want to get a jump on ordering food, he comes through the front door. “Tsk, you look miserable.”
Vessel so badly wants to be snarky. To tell you what an astute observation you’ve made. “I am…where is everyone?” You look at him a bit quizzically and tell you texted him…and that their trip was on the calendar, etc etc. Oh the defeated sigh he lets out! The misery of being cooped up with someone so chronically pleasant might do his head in if this migraine doesn’t first. And maybe it wasn’t your best idea to follow him to his room to ask if he needed or wanted anything, if he was hungry, did he have a fever, can you do— “Have you considered leaving me alone? You’re not my mum and you’re definitely not my girlfriend! Can take care of myself just fine without you flitting about trying to fix everyone’s problems…maybe you should...” He stops himself and rubs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “Fuck it. It’s not worth what little energy I have. Let me know what takeaway you’re thinking.” He shuts the door and leaves you in the hall. Was he suggesting that you spend more time on others than yourself? How dare he? How dare he be right and sound mean about it. But you don’t pout long because he opens the door again, but this time his shirt is off. Your eyes trace the curve of his shoulders…down to the ridges of his chest and abs. Close enough to touch. ‘Stop…he’s sick. And your roommate.’ He sniffs hard. He’s so stopped up. “I…should not be like that. I’m sorry. Pizza?” You look away, feeling shitty after overstepping…he must be really sick if you got an immediate apology.
“Don’t you think something like soup or…you know what? We’ll do whatever you want.” That elicits a soft smile from him...with teeth no less.. Wait…”you just smiled at me. An honest to god smile...Ves…”
“Oh, sh-shut up.”
After dinner Vessel feels…weird. His head and body hurts…he can’t even think straight. And you notice. He can barely stay awake but there’s no way he’d be comfy on the couch. His long legs…you imagine him trying to curl up and get comfortable like a big dog on a tiny bed. You take a chance and put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you get in bed.” He sighs heavily like you asked him to give up music. “Is it really this hard to accept some kindness?” Apparently that was a shit question because he huffs and takes himself to bed. Fine. Maybe you should leave it alone but damnit he needs help…and attention. You come into his room with your arms full.
“What are you…” But you cut him off by dumping a big blue quilt on him.
“I always always always sweat shit out with this quilt.”
“I don’t have a fever.”
“Oh well, it’ll make you feel better. And…alsooooooo…” you hand him a stuffed puppy with floppy ears and a dumb, goofy look stitched on his face. “Just give him a squeeze.” Vessel looks at the stuffed dog and the quilt but can’t seem to look at you. If anything he’s looking down and past your feet.
“As persistent as my cold, you know that?”
“You deserve a break. Let me know if you need something…you know where I am.”
“H-hey…wait…” You look back at him, and it’s as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. Did he ever know in the first place? All he knows is that any breath he takes after this night is for something beyond the music. Beyond himself, even though his efforts there are questionable. “Sit with me…for a bit?”
And you did. All night. Waking up next to him hugging your stuffed dog under your “sick day” quilt was such a sight. His eyebrows knit together like he was thinking. It must have been a fever dream, you think, as he groans softly and clutches the dog closer. You want to reach out, move the hair off his brow, feel if he has a fever…caress him. But you have to at least act like you know better. When he blinks awake he gives a lazy smile.
“You shouldn’t have stayed in here. What if you get sick?”
“I could deal.”
“Hm. Maybe you’d accept some kindness in return?”
After his cold finally fucks off, Vessel looks at you differently. Not necessarily because you did something for him. No. There was something different. After he snapped at you, and then later after you two had a long conversation about nothing before he drifted off, Vessel noticed something behind your eyes. God, those eyes. His walls came down. He was defenseless. It’s not like you’re best friends now or anything, but he felt moved to treat you gently. Hell, to smile back at the very least.
Late one night, long after everyone went to bed, Ves notices your bedroom light is still on. “What am I doing?” He whispers to himself, but apparently too loudly because soon you’re opening your door.
“Oh thank fuck it’s you. Thought I was hearing things.”
“Jus’ me…I…why are you up? It’s 1:30.” You shrug. There’s that look again. He has to dig. He has to pry just a little. Just like you had with him. “Can I come in?”
You nod and let him in, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He sees your laptop out and wants to ask what you were up to, but you quickly put it away. “Better question is why you’re awake, Ves.”
He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “So no one has a good excuse, hm?”
“Hm.” You tease back, gently pinching his arm. He looks down at your fingers on him and his heart flutters. Ves lets his gaze drift slowly up your body…taking in every curve and slight movement before resting on your eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“W-w-what…? What are y-?” You try to act nonchalant.
“Can just tell…something’s off with you.”
You sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. “This…” you put your hands out, “is actually my natural state. Tense. Not nearly as bubbly or…like”
“A sunshine girl?”
“Yeah or…a sunshine girl.”
Vessel looks at you with a sympathetic smile…he can see that blush dusting your pretty cheeks. He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly but then pausing. “You’re knotted up, love. Can I…?” Without even hearing your answer, he moves behind you and rubs your shoulders. It hurts a little, only because you’re so tense. His wide hands cover your shoulders and luxuriously knead into your muscles. “What’s made you so tight,” he rasps close to your ear, “Hm? What’s eating at you?”
You can’t help it. Your head lolls back to his chest and turns so you can look up at him. “All I do is run around taking care of business and other people. I don’t know how to care about myself.”
He can’t stop himself. Brain shutting down. Hands and lips have a mind of their own now. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like I did. You should care about yourself…I…I could teach you…” Vessel trails his nose up your neck and kisses your ear softly before you jump up.
“Jesus, dude, you can’t just come in here and…” but fuck it he doesn’t look precious wiping his hand down his face and hiding the strain in his pants. “Oh…fuck… actually you totally can.” Immediately you’re straddling his lap, held in place by his soft hands cupping your face…pressing you desperately into his. His kisses trail hungrily down your jaw and to your neck. He finds your pulse point and claims it with his hot, open mouthed kisses. Your hips grind against him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world…but of course, he adjusted to press his strong thigh against you...you are supposed to do this. Suddenly your thoughts are poisoned with guilt as you realize how tightly you’re squeezing his thigh and how you weren’t being exactly quiet. Vessel gently guides your head down so he can whisper to you.
“I’d take you far away from here…anywhere you wanted…just to hear it…I want to hear what I can make you say…how loud I could make you…”
“V-v-es we-...“
“Shh shh shh. It’s ok. Do you want to stop?” His voice is warm and sincere, like he’s meant to take care of you.
“No.”
“Then let me do this…for you. Some comfort…” he turns slowly to lay you on your back, “would you like that…” his fingers gently trace your breasts and tummy over your shirt… “could make you feel good…safe”…your shorts and panties are thrown off the bed…”when was the last time someone did that for you, darling? Made you cum…just to cum?”…your shirt is lifted, tits exposed to the chilly room and his starving eyes.
“Never.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs as he kisses your thighs and settles on his tummy, “no pressure for me then.” But you’re moaning softly already. You’re a live wire as the hands you’ve desperately tried to avoid fantasizing about explore your inner thighs and folds. His finger glides up and down the length of your needy pussy as he looks up at you…pure bliss etched all over his face in the dim lighting. “Atta girl, love. We’re just here to feel good. Hm?” You hear and then feel a wad of his spit hit your clit, followed by his fingers pressing against either side of it. Vessel wraps his left arm around your tummy as your body chases his touch. “Found something you like, did I?”
“Vessel,” you whisper breathlessly but it’s cut off by a strangled moan. His tongue gently darts out for little kitten licks on your clit. You don’t know if your reactions or what he’s doing is making him whimper like that, but you don’t care. Your hand caresses his hair lazily until you have to grab it and keep him in place. He’s taken your clit in his mouth…something you’ve never experienced. Forgetting every wall you placed around yourself with this man, you let your hips grind shamelessly against his perfect mouth. Vessel’s moans and hot breath nearly push you over the edge multiple times.
“I…” he exhales, trying to catch his breath and contain himself, “am really going to enjoy this.” His middle and ring finger work into your wet cunt and find your g-spot quickly. “That’s it…that’s it…you feel that? Feel my fingers rubbing you from the inside, yeah?” You can’t respond directly…you’re too busy squirming and whimpering fuck fuck fuck. It feels like you’re on fire as Vessel licks and sucks at your clit, your eyes rolling as your brain tries to compute that the same spot is being stimulated from different angles. It’s too much.
“I’m yours…I’m yours….please I’m yours.”
“Mine, yeah? Good. You sound s’perfect…haven’t even had my cock.” It’s a miracle that you aren’t screaming out loud now as he sucks at your clit. Both hands tangle in his hair when he starts thrusting his hips against your bed. He moans pathetically into your clit, his hips landing soft blows into the mattress. “I…I’m sorry.�� He stops and quickly pulls off his clothes…you swear you’re cumming a little just from the sight of his cock alone. “See what you do to me?” He breathes heavily, standing at your bedside with his cock throbbing without contact. “Seeing you…let yourself go… enjoying yourself… so fucking hard for you. Could cum just licking you out, babe.” You’re tempted to tell him to try it…but you feel empty.
“Make me yours…”
“How would you have me?”
You’re speechless for a second…he’s really into this. Into you feeling good. “Get on your back, angel.” Vessel does as he’s told and blushes at the pet name. He teasingly rubs his cock against your slit…tells you how tight you felt around his fingers…how good you are for him. You moan quietly…weakly…dreamily as you slide down each inch of Vessel’s cock. The stretch is beyond perfect…not uncomfortable…but still more than any stupid toy in your bedside drawer could do. You grind against him and bounce on his cock seemingly without much thought other than feeling good. And he doesn’t stop you, nor does he grab you and fuck up into your pussy. No…he just lays back like a good boy and takes it. Luxuriates in the feeling of the warm stickiness of your pussy…how it hugs his cock and threatens to drain him. You wince a little as your hips tense; still you weren’t fully relaxed despite your blissful state.
“I’ve got you.” Vessel pulls you close to his chest, pressing your hips down. “Just lay down on me. Let me feel you.” He moans softly as you lay out, your legs scissoring with his just enough to keep his cock buried deep. Your lips crash together. You taste yourself on him…his mouth…and your mind goes even fuzzier. “Sweet girl…you like being lovey, don’t you? Hm?” His hips snap up and press into your cunt. “Little lover girl??”
“I’m…fuck I’m yours Ves…I’m your girl…”
“Let’s make it real then…” his hips thrust back and forth again before pressing deep into you, holding his cock hard against the limit of your pussy…”I’ll fill you to the fucking brim with my cum…leave my handprints on your ass…and-“
“And I’ll leave…little love bites on your chest,” you add, trying to weigh in and stave off your climax. Vessel groans out in response and holds you in place like a toy as you suck and lick at his soft skin. So much for handprints on your ass, though; he can’t help but cradle your back and head. Neither of you have ever felt this before. The soft, warm middle of equal parts wholesome chemistry and earth shattering lust. What was that in the delicate in-between? You bury your face in his neck and forget the world…forget your name…it’s just him.
“So tight…” He gently lifts your head. “There she is…mmm. Need to see you…need you to see what you do to me.” Vessel tangles his hand in your hair to help fix your gaze on him. His throat bobs with each broken moan…god he wants to cry out for you so badly. For the way your body melts into his as he rolls his hips up and into you. For the way your slick runs out all over him, making a mess of you both. It’s all too much. You press your forehead to his and bear your hips down. Vessel grabs you and presses his hot, greedy lips to yours not just for a kiss, but to muffle the pornographic noises your pussy rips out of him. The feeling of his tongue on your lips pushes you over the edge. Your fluttering orgasm squeezes and milks Vessel’s cock for all it’s worth, causing him to fuck up into you like a rabid animal. He completely and unapologetically ruins you.
You wake up the next morning curled up against his back. He’s already awake and smiles brightly when he feels you pull him close.
“Guess what.” He whispers. You barely mumble “hm” back to him, still sleepy and fuzzy from your late night tryst. Vessel chuckles and rolls over, your stuffed whale shark from the aquarium clutched to his chest.
“Hey! That’s mine,” you grumble.
“Oh and suddenly you don’t share anymore…hm? Not my lover girl when the sun’s up,” he teases. “Anyways…it’s just us this weekend. We have some wasted time to make up for…don’t you think?”
#sleep token fanfiction#sleep token smut#vessel fanfiction#vessel x you#vessel x reader#vessel smut#vessel x reader smut#sleep token#vessel sleep token#vessel fanfic#sleep token fanfic
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alright, that’s it.
i’m sick of seeing hate against people who don’t read the project sekai stories. this fandom has a lot of problems and this collective hatred of anyone who doesn’t dedicate hours upon hours to read the stories is one of them.
first of all, the event stories are fucking long.
each episode can be anywhere from 15-30 minutes if read as the game intends (with auto on). multiply this by 8, and you’re talking possibly 2-4 hours PER EVENT. this doesn’t even account for mixed events, which have 2 extra episodes.
not to mention, there are 137 events on the japanese server (and 101 on the english server) at the time i am writing this. 3 hours average times 137 events equals a total of 411 hours. that is 2 and a half weeks of solid content. to say that’s daunting for people who started playing the game any sizable amount of time since its release is a massive understatement.
not to mention, the events, if viewed in-game, take a massive amount of storage space. not everyone’s device can handle the insane amount of space needed for this game’s events (even moreso if you plan to listen to the voices)
not everyone plays the game for the events, and they’re NOT needed to enjoy the characters.
i get it. if someone who hasn’t read the events is trying to have in-depth analyses of the characters or the groups, they’re bound to mischaracterize. the thing is, nobody’s really doing that.
not everyone downloaded the game because they wanted to read 400 hours of stories. yes, they are a fundamental part of the game. i’m not trying to deny that. however, so is the rhythm game. i don’t see any hate towards people who hardly touch the shows. because they’re not for everyone.
you should be able to talk about, write fics for, and roleplay as the characters without needing to read the stories. yes, people may mischaracterize. but reading the stories doesn’t make you exempt to that either. i’ve read fics from people who read every story for the group the fics were about that still managed to get so much wrong.
the events can be serious triggers.
i’m a HUGE niigo fan. i buy nightcord merchandise, i’ve played almost all their songs, and i love the characters. i have not read a single solely-niigo event. you know why? because they are extremely triggering for me — the most blatant example being the most recent event on ensekai; “farewell, my mask.”
project sekai’s stories are beautiful. but if one’s writing is always light-hearted, it will not touch people as dearly. (i mean, for christ’s sake, No Seek No Find revolves around this exact statement.)
and project sekai is no exception — their stories unapologetically dive into extremely heavy topics, including but not limited to emotional abuse, grief/loss, and being hospitalized. reading the nightcord stories as people have tried to genuinely harass me into doing would result in some extremely bad feelings.
and i’m not the only one — many people i know, some who have even reblogged and expressed agreement with posts hating on those who don’t read the stories, have shared my sentiment. you cannot insist people read the stories like i’ve seen many people do, because you have no clue what might trigger someone.
what should we do, then?
first of all, build up some tolerance. not everyone is going to read the stories, and some people may mischaracterize the characters. did someone make a character analysis that ignored a big aspect of a character? scroll past the post. did someone write a fic making a character say and do things they usually wouldn’t? hit the backspace button.
second of all, try to be open-minded to the opinions of people who haven’t read the stories. maybe they get their content through the commission song lyrics, or maybe they diligently read the area conversations. or maybe they don’t! maybe they just want to talk about their fave.
if someone’s misinterpretation is genuinely harmful or bigoted, call out the harm and bigotry. that person who called ena an abusive sister despite akito acting similarly? call out the misogyny. this goes for any harmful interpretation of a character or group.
and finally, try to have some fun. this is a game. we’re all fans. if you do nothing but perpetuate hatred, nobody’s gonna wanna play toys with you.
#☆ narcissus.txt#project sekai#long post#sorry i’ve seen this go on long enough. i had to say something about it#this is coming from someone who has read 3 events cover-to-cover#and has read snippets of like 5 others#watch me get so much hate for this lmao
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If you scroll back far enough you’ll see this account was mainly Umbrella Academy posting. I was OBSESSED with this show, especially when s3 came out despite the writing being objectively…iffy in some scenes. But I knew how GOOD the show could be, and hell, s3 WAS GOOD!
And then s4 happened.
And let’s just say
I’m disappointed :D
Spoilers for everything s4 here on out
Ok so watching this season was like being trapped in a burning building but you’re trying to rescue your things, but then you realize they’re also all on fire. I kept watching, thinking “oh, this is gonna lead to this” or “oh that’s a cool reference to that” and NOTHING HAPPENED???
Like in the beginning, with Alison. I thought for sure, everyone was just gonna not like her for a majority of the season, she does something really cool/saves them and then they go “ok, we aren’t gonna forgive you, because what you’ve done to all of us is not able to be forgiven, but we’re gonna try to be better and include each other in our lives”
Nope
They just forgave her off camera and she was just enjoying life with them
And so I’m like “ok, I can excuse that, besides there WAS a 6 year timeskip, maybe we’ll see something with th-“
Nope
Another thing, the sake bombs
My brother in christ Klaus THREW IT ON SOMEONE ELSE AND JUST??? THAT PERSON DIDNT GET HIS POWERS?? My partner legit turned to me and was like “oohhh he’s gonna get Klaus’ powers that’s gonna be so cool.”
But nope that guys never shown again!!
“Okay…” I say slightly nervous “but Klaus is objectively the fan favorite, they can’t fuck up his character”
But then they did. Now iirc, Vietnam wasn’t mentioned at all in s3, and if it was, it was minimum, but there were SO MANY INSTANCES TO BRING IT UP AND THEY JUST DIDNT??
And I tried to excuse it, but legit it was so obvious that they should’ve brought it up. Ignoring the fact Klaus GOT DAVES DOG TAGS BACK AND SAID/DID NOTHING BUT LOOK AT THEM?? you have the scene where everyone is shooting as each other and he’s hiding in the hallowed out part of a grave (which, idk, reminds me of TRENCHES??? Which I’m like 80% sure was used in the Vietnam war) and also, did NOTHING. He covered his ears and I’m sitting there, thinking “oh maybe a flashback”
Nope!
MY BROTHER IN CHRIST I CANT STOP EXCUSING IT, BUT I DO
Cuz when he got locked in the coffin, I’m thinking “oh perfect time to bring up the mausoleum-“
Nope
(Also the way the show tried to make it a joke that he was being used for sex to get money left such a bad taste in my mouth. Like we physically saw him get SA’d and just…it’s a joke??? Like already we had that gross SA of Luther in s3 does NO ONE UNDERSTAND HOW SENSITIVE OF A TOPIC THAT IS??)
Then, obvs there’s the fuckup with Five
At this point, I’m beaten and broken. I have a pounding headache, the dogs looking at me and my partner funny cuz we keep screaming and- HOLY FUCK FIVE IS KISSING LILA
Five, the physically-25-mentally-65 year old, whose ENTIRE CHARACTER MOTIVATION IS HIS FAMILY
Is kissing Lila, the 30 something WIFE OF HIS BROTHER
His brother. Who he saw DEAD IN A FUCKING APOCALYPSE.
I just ??? It’s so bad??? Why??? Did you think??? That was a good idea??? No one asked for that??
(+ there was no reason to include that arc, or the fact that Lila and Diego were unhappy in their marriage. Lila, maybe I can understand, but Diego had NO REASON. Get rid of those arcs, fucking nothing changes)
And I can talk about the bracelet inconsistency, or how they only made Luther a stripper for shock value, but this post is long enough so I’m just gonna mention one final grievance
The ending.
SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES
Now, I’ve enjoyed media where they permanently kill off the main characters. Like Magnus Archives (something I frequently would post here)
In the season five finale, they kill of Jon and Martin because it’s the only way to save their world. It makes sense, Jon is already the Pupil of the Ceaseless Watcher + for him and martin, it’s genuinely the only way they can have a decent ending
If they were to keep living, they’d doom the world to constantly be in the eyepocalypse. They address what could’ve been a plot hole by saying “no, living isn’t an option, as much as we want it to be.”
And it’s a satisfying ending! Ask any TMA fan, and they’ll agree that, while sad, it was a perfect ending. So when Umbrella Academy tried to do the same I was…confused? Because that truly WASNT THE ONLY OPTION??
The scene with all the Fives where they’re like “oh btw your family causes the apocalypse every time” I thought we all kinda new that by now….
But also it wasn’t. I am firm in my belief that what caused the apocalypse every time was
1) their powers
And 2) their REACTIONS to each other
S1, for example. Viktors powers inherently cause the apocalypse, but it’s the characters reaction TOWARDS VIKTOR (cough cough Luther) that REALLY seal the deal.
So, no diner Five, it wasn’t THE FAMILY, it was your POWERS. If y’all just…don’t use them and get some family therapy, you guys are FINE.
(Also my partner brought this up, but having a show that revolves around the trauma of the main cast ending with “killing yourself is the only option” is…definitely a choice!)
So yeah. This entire season was trash from start to finish. The songs were not good, the character arcs were not good, the story itself was not good. Everything done was either for shock value (ie making the astronaut a STRIPPER.), ruined characters in ways that didn’t make any narrative sense (Five kissing Lila), or were dragged on far too long (Diego and Luther in the CIA).
And I really don’t want to hate on it, because I love this show, but I really have nothing good to say. It was bad start to finish. Get me out of this burning building, ‘cause my stuffs already burnt.
#the umbrella academy#tua#tua season 4#umbrella academy rant#tua spoilers#klaus hargreeves#five hargreeves#diego hargreeves#lila hargreeves#allison hargreeves#luther hargreeves#tma#surprisingly#tma spoilers
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30 years old and constantly reposting other people's shit? go get a job
y’know, i think the thing that throws me off about anons like this is that they’re on anon. Because it puts the person in a position where if they want to respond, they have to put an insult to themselves on their blog.
i don’t know where i’ve ever claimed ownership of any of the frimages or gifs that i didn’t take or make, and of the gifs i do make i don’t even watermark half the time bc one, i forget to, and two, i honestly don’t give a shit about someone crediting me for them.
if i know who took a frimage and it’s not already watermarked then i absolutely will credit, and if i need to crop a frimage but it takes out the credit then guess what? i don’t crop it. same idea for gifs. thankfully most people do remember to watermark their gifs unlike me, and thus have their credit on the gif.
there was an instance where i posted a gif set and hadn’t credited bc i didn’t know who created them and the creator saw and rb’d the post about it and i edited the post with credit and a link to their post and encouraged people to go give notes to that post instead. then earlier it looks like someone linked credit to another gif i posted that i now see is a full gif set. of gifs that have been watermarked by the creator. a watermark that gives them credit. because they have essentially signed it.
i have absolutely no problem making a disclaimer tag for all the content that isn’t mine. i guess i shouldn’t have assumed that people were smart enough to realize/understand that the photos and gifs that i post on a frank iero fan blog aren’t taken or made by me for christ sake.
not only that, but i kind of hoped that if someone had an issue with something i do that even if they went on anon that they’d be at least respectful enough to do so without throwing insults. i’m a person who is always willing to make corrections to my actions and posts. last night someone let me know about a post that bothered them and they were on anon. they were so fucking respectful and yk what? we came to a resolution.
alternately, if someone wants to insult me i’d very much rather they have the courage and self respect to do it off anon or in my dms. because the funny thing about me? i don’t throw insults back. not even in real life. i don’t see the point in it.
finally, to address your insult? i do have a job, technically two. and i like them. there’s this fancy thing called a queue that i use during my working hours. but also, to throw an insult like that? “go get a job”? for myself that’s not hurtful, but there are people who don’t have a job and who are desperately and actively trying and can’t get one or are physically/mentally unable to hold a job. so for them, if they were to get an insult like this, which i know for a fact they do on the fucking daily, is incredibly hurtful and is something that has potential to push them over the edge.
so how about we try this again and you send me a respectful ask on or off anon or a dm about what you specifically take issue with and we can actually discuss it and see if there’s a solution to come to.~🎃
#i really don’t understand the lack of respect here.#i’m not an asshole so why come to my inbox being an asshole#but whatever#frnkiebby#anon
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Tastes of Whumptober: Day 30
Let's see what Payge and Nicolai have been up to! We met them on Day 12, which this post references and continues from! They also showed their faces on Day 16 and Day 26, should you want to see more of them <3
Content warnings for: the slightest moment of nail whump, creepy whumper, and painful wound cleaning.
Recovery
Payge had been confined to the basement bedroom for… two days now. This was the third. He awoke the same way each morning so far. The same padded cuffs kept him in bed on the mattress by his hands and feet, only mercifully allowing him to change positions.
The first day, Nicolai had sat down and trimmed his nails.
“Of course I have to, dove. I know you’ll come up with a thousand keen solutions, and it’s my job to think of each one before you do.” They gestured for his hand then, and he handed it over reluctantly.
“I wasn’t thinking of that…” They trimmed his thumb down, leaving the thinnest sliver of white at the edge.
“Of course not. But you would have.” The pointer nail was cut even closer, if there was such a possibility.
“For Christ’s sake, leave a bit of nail! They aren’t used to being so short.”
“Don’t ask my permission for your delinquency, Payge. I wouldn’t have to take such precautions if you would accept my care.”
“I am, aren’t I?” He protested, false hope in his voice.
“You should have seen yourself on the table.”
A full-body shudder shook his hand and caused them to clip too far.
“Come on!” He pulled his hand away and observed the nick as it slowly wept a single drop of blood. Nicolai snatched it back and continued their work.
“You’ve had worse. On the table, for example.” They had the foresight to grip his wrist hard before he flinched again.
“Forgive me for never wanting to remember that.”
“Well, I don’t plan on letting you forget.”
He did remember. Every night. Payge was a side sleeper now.
The second day, Nicolai changed his bandages.
“Sure you don’t want to look? You could have supervised access to a mirror.”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, then.”
They turned on the tap, slowly adjusting the temperature before filling a bowl. A rag was dipped in, wrung out, and pressed over the bandages to moisten them before unwrapping.
“Aren’t you grateful I’m not ripping this off with the scabs, dove?”
“...I am. Thank you,” Payge whispered.
The dressings only tugged mildly at a few stubborn parts. Probably where they cut deeper, he thought, and just as quickly shoved the idea away. A separate rag pressed against his bare skin, starting at the edge of the wound.
He caught a glimpse of it at some point: stained various shades of brown, red, and something on the yellow spectrum.
“It’s not infected, is it?” An infected wound of that size… it spelled a death sentence without medical intervention.
“No, no. Just severe.”
Each fiber of the cloth was tangible as it pressed him into the back of the chair, scratching whenever Nicolai adjusted it.
“It’s looking lovely so far. Red suits you.”
“My mom always said it clashed.” She had, really. Always said he looked better in neutrals. Burgundy or merlot, orange blossom or cream. Not red.
“Nonsense. Nothing could clash with you, dove.”
“Sweet-talking me gets you nowhere.”
“I quite enjoy it, actually. Sweet-talking you is a favorite pastime of mine.” The rag drifted over his collarbones, tracing them absentmindedly, before it returned to the bowl to soak. After they were done, Nicolai would disappear upstairs and bleach them, rinse, and fold them up like new for next time. They’d made him help before.
A brown bottle emerged from the cabinet and tipped onto a third cloth.
“Oy, you told me peroxide only makes scars worse.” Payge held up a hand and pointed at the offender, as if it could be anything else.
“Yes. Put that hand down.”
“Did you forget? You try to minimize a lot of those.” A glare told him he was pushing his luck.
“You’d be a fool to think I worked so long and hard on nothing. I wouldn’t do that to you without reason.”
He held his tongue on the truths that itched to spew forth, too aware of his current position.
He’d felt the burn of that the rest of the day, especially when Nicolai refused to rinse it with water. Even the unharmed skin around seemed inflamed.
And this morning Payge was still wearing the shirt they’d dressed him in. Breathable, flexible fabric that zipped up to his neck in the back, still tight enough to compress his torso. He could reach it if he tried, but it would be a chore. The point of the barrier, of course.
He was stuck in bed until they came down and unlocked the cuffs. But it wasn’t all bad.
The windowless room could only be lit by the switch next to the door. At all other times, a projection shone on the popcorn ceiling. A window into a fishtank, towers of kelp swaying as different species swam by. A simple night light in the nearest outlet created the illusion, shooting light out when it didn’t detect another source.
It was strangely comforting.
So long as he glanced up at it from his side.
#whumptober2024#no.30#recovery#original characters#writing#whump#emotional whump#wound cleaning#painful wound cleaning#nail whump#creepy whumper#held captive#whumptober#my writing#whump writing#tastes of whumptober#Nicolai#Payge#mmmmsleepy#i keep staying up too late finishing these lol i'm gonna have to do a morning reblog#payge and nicolai are gonna be written so out of order i can already tell#shit i've gotta link their previous days#okay all done#goodnight see you tomorrow for the last day of whumptober !!!!!!!!!#and also happy ween
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Cadybear's Reviews- My Two First Loves
Welcome to the twenty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about My Two First Loves, which I have ranked on the "Rotting Flesh Tier" at 2 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was back in April-June 2021.
Oh boy! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I could write a whole essay on everything wrong with this…
So I will.
To put it briefly: this story feels like it was adapted from a Wattpad story that was written by a 12-year-old whose only ever exposure to high school media and depictions of teenage sexuality was Glee, and then had serious queer and mature themes slapped onto it in order to make it seem better. Y’know, the equivalent of trying to polish a turd.
Or, heck, it’s probably PB’s attempt at ripping off “The Kissing Booth”, seeing as both have a MC in a love triangle between her childhood best friend and a bad boy named Noah, after all. Which, funnily enough, was also originally adapted from some tween’s Wattpad story. That’s about the equivalent to a dog eating some rotten food, shitting it out, then another dog finds it, eats it, and then shits it right out again. And THEN that second dog’s owner comes along to try to polish that double-toured turd.
Number 1: The LGBTQ+ tag is clearly an attempt to appease the queer players that they probably think are being whiny.
Ava’s arc about realizing she’s a lesbian who had been experiencing compulsory heterosexuality is pretty solid in a vacuum. But her being an LI was so blatantly only a last-minute decision PB made during the writing process, and it shows because Ava’s CG just uses her game sprite while Mason’s and Noah’s are fresh art.
MC starts to fall for Ava sometime around at least 30 chapters in, but we don’t get to officially pursue her as a romance option until about 70 chapters in. I get delaying her as a love interest a bit because of the whole thing with MC realizing she’s bi, but even then, there’s just so few opportunities for building any kind of relationship with her that it hardly feels authentic.
Speaking of, MC’s supposed bi awakening is completely rushed and treated with about as much value as a Family Guy cutaway gag, even outside of Ava being sidelined. As someone who realized I wasn’t straight three years ago and is still questioning if I’m bi or straight, I understand that people take different amounts of time to figure out their sexuality. But this MC does not spend any period of time figuring out her bisexuality. She basically just goes “Welp, guess I’m bi now”, and then it’s back to being indecisive as per usual except now there’s a female love interest in the mix too.
To add insult to injury, "discussions of sexuality" is placed in a "player discretion" warning, alongside "racial tensions" and "occasionally violence" to boot. How the fuck is discussion of sexuality even remotely on the same level as either of those? If they meant discussions or depictions of homophobia then maybe I could understand… but I don’t even recall seeing any depictions of homophobia in the book, so including this in the freaking warning tags is pointless at best and kind of insulting at worst.
Not to mention, plenty of other Choices books like MOTY, ILS, D&D, etc. have had discussions about sexuality/LGBTQ+ stuff before, and didn't have to warn us about it. Not even MAH, a later book which had discussions about freaking conversion therapy for Christ’s sake. Sure, some of those books did have content warnings, but they were generally vague and/or mainly warned for violence, and didn’t warn specifically for depictions of queerphobia or discussions of sexuality. Yet for some reason, MTFL feels the need to include a player discretion warning for sexuality discussions, even though it contains far less harsher queer themes.
Number 2: The portrayal of teen sexuality in this does not feel earnest.
Let me just say, I found it very jarring how this one was much more sexually charged compared to PB’s other high school books. PB is usually way more “safe” and PG-13 at most when writing high school characters. Even in books like ROD and WEH, where the characters are 18+ and do have smutty scenes, it’s clear that those books are a lot more restricted compared to the adult cast books.
I mean, with WEH, the safeness makes sense– it was meant to be a serious and tender story from the start, and it does actually follow through on those themes. But ROD feels like it could have easily been as horny with its writing as MTFL was, what with being about a studious “good girl” who goes rebellious. In fact, the story’s loading screen was pretty infamous at first for looking “steamier” than other covers and loading screens.
In actuality though, ROD had only, what, one smut scene? And despite a lot of MC’s outfits being revealing or arguably sensual, there are practically no moments where MC fawned over how “sexy” a revealing diamond outfit looked. Like, I’m pretty sure there were just little to no sexually charged scenes in general.
My point is, whatever compelled PB to make MTFL *this* sexualized is beyond me. My guess is the fact that PB called this one a story about “navigating sexuality” and thus wanted to focus more on the aspects of sexuality, but if that’s the case… hoo boy, did they do a terrible job at it.
I don’t really care about the hypersexualized writing of the teenage characters on its own, or how the characters were initially not confirmed 18+ when the earlier smut scenes were written. What I find far more important is the fact that this sort of cliche and formulaic hypersexualized writing is in a book that markets itself as being about “a young woman navigating love and sexuality for the first time”.
Teens do indeed have sex and can be all over the place with their hormones and sexuality. A lot of us have been there in some way, myself included. And there are ways to talk about that type of stuff in a manner that is silly and/or exaggerated, but still earnest and respectful. But the particular way that MTFL handles super-horny teen sexuality, specifically while claiming to be a coming-of-age story, is neither earnest nor respectful.
The way this story handles these sorts of topics is the writing equivalent to doing a surgery with Fisher-Price toy surgery tools. It’s genuinely difficult to take MC “navigating her sexuality for the first time” seriously when has to constantly blubber about how Mason and Noah are so muscular or how a diamond outfit has “naughty little thigh highs” or how she wants to do a “down and dirty” cheer routine with Ava for Mason and Noah.
That last one especially feels like the kind of stuff we’d see more in a campy chick flick that doesn’t take itself seriously. Honestly, if this was a more campy high school book with the tone of DLS or the 2023 movie “Bottoms”, it probably wouldn’t be as glaring. But in a book that markets itself as a coming-of-age story, the tone feels completely off and the whole book honestly felt like it couldn't decide what it wanted to be.
(Also, while we’re on this topic of MC’s premium outfits, I really fucking despise how MC gets so upset about wearing "mom clothes" if you choose to wear the free modest clothing instead of the revealing diamond outfit in Chapter 2. Ugh. Yes, the dad was being shitty about not letting MC dress how she likes, but all it does is it just makes you feel like shit for not wanting to dress in more revealing clothes. Stop making me feel bad for wanting to wear simple non-revealing clothing. Same goes for you, Chris Romantic Getaway story with your “the regular jerseys aren’t cute enough for girls to wear, we have to cut one up into a cleavage crop top in order to make it good for us girls to wear” bullshit.)
And it just slaps you in the face with these sexual moments too, placing them in frequently whenever it feels like it, and the amount of it that actually contributed to any coming-of-age navigating-sexuality are few and far between. Honestly, it felt like it was trying way too hard to look "mature" with how it handled sexuality (as well as some of the other stuff like them drinking alcohol). Like it maybe was trying to portray teens realistically, but it only does so at a very shallow level.
It's literally just "Look at the teens that talk about sex and like doing sexy things and having sex and doing grown-up stuff like drinking alcohol, see how MATUUURRREEE they are!" and they don't do anything more with it. It's just tacked on so they can pretend their book is a realistic story about maturing/being mature, when it fails at actually doing so.
I mean, I guess you could argue that the MC is meant to be seen as more messy and hormonal. And in that case, I could give it a pass. But, again, MC’s supposed arc of “navigating sexuality” never goes anywhere from that until the very last few chapters where you choose which LI she ends up with. It’s pretty much the same crap all throughout the book. MC doesn’t navigate sexuality, she just runs around aimlessly in it like a chicken with its head cut off.
Number 3: All the serious themes they try to have in the story are overshadowed by MC’s stupid indecisiveness plot.
I’ve already said MTFL tries way too hard to make its story seem “mature” with the trashy way it sexualizes its characters. I’ve said it feels like it doesn’t know what it wants to be. Honestly though, this just sums up MTFL’s writing in general.
MTFL has quite a handful of subplots, and I will admit, all of them are pretty compelling. You have Ava figuring out she’s lesbian, Mack dealing with gang drama, and Mason and Noah dealing with their past and Mason’s dad’s abusive behaviors. And an admittedly decent arc about MC discovering her love for photography instead of cheerleading.
And then you have MC going on about how she can’t decide between her love interests, which is just the bad apple of the bunch that ruins the rest. It just makes it very hard to take everything else seriously. You ever seen that one meme where the Power Rangers put their hands in a circle but then a Teletubbie tries to join in? It’s the writing-equivalent to that, and MC’s indecisiveness plot is the Teletubbie.
And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if MC’s indecisiveness wasn’t the main focus plot of the whole book. I want to take these other storylines seriously. I want to take this story as a whole seriously. But how can I when the main focus of the story is so god damn shallow? No matter how many "soft positive heartfelt" piano tracks and “so sad and tragic sad” piano tracks from WEH they try put over it, it doesn't change the fact that the focus is MC going on and on about being unable to choose between Mason, Noah, and Ava.
I get teens are shallow and can have shallow issues, but did we really need it to be that big of a focus of the story? Especially when the way it handles it is completely empty? Something like OG HSS was great because even though a lot of the issues the characters had were seemingly shallow and basic (such as the band fighting over which song to play), they do give a little more depth to it and reason to care about it (ie. Aiden starts to feel like a failure at music because of the band infighting). MTFL just throws MC’s indecisiveness at you for 95 chapters and expects you to take it seriously with nothing else surrounding it.
And they try to pull the twist on the title at the end where it’s all like “LI and photography, the two greatest loves of MC’s life”. Which is an interesting idea in concept, except it feels so artificial and non-earned when MC’s romance plot was spending 95 chapters being unable to decide between the LIs.
Number 4: It reuses way too much from HSS.
I know this is a less severe issue, but I just can’t get past it. Sprites, backgrounds, school colors… even plot points like the corrupt principal embezzling from the school, or MC and LI(s) being locked in a large school room (remember when HSS:CA MC and Ajay were locked in the auditorium?). Heck, even MC having lost her mom and having a photography passion connected to that, rings way too similar to one of Autumn’s arcs from the freaking HSS PRIME GAME! Oh yeah, and both of those characters have a love triangle with a golden boy and a bad boy. Holy hell.
Easily the most noticeable part is the sprites. In my playthrough, I counted 7 whole HSS sprites that were used in MTFL: Sydney became Iris, Payton became Toni, Frank became this random kid in a flashback for Mason and Noah's past, Morgan became a kid in Elijah's gang named Lucy, Lorenzo became Chad, Aiden's mom became Asian Noah's mom, Skye's dad became White Mason's dad (PB really said use that sprite for abusive dads huh). And there’s probably more, I’m sure.
And the worst offense? They even reuse the iconic bird's-eye view of Berry High in MTFL. Call me petty if you must, but that's just criminal. It's one thing to reuse and alter a bunch of the sprites, uniforms, and backgrounds from the series but to reuse another book series' iconic background like that? Honestly, it feels rather insulting. They couldn't even be arsed to change the "Go Tigers!" on the football field, that’s how little sense it makes to use that background outside of HSS. Fuck’s sake.
I know it’s kind of the norm for Choices to reuse assets throughout different series, but the fact that they do it so much here and majority of it is from HSS just rubs me the wrong way. At best, it’s jarring and lazy. And at worst, it comes off as trying way too hard to be a “more mature” version of HSS. When in reality, it makes HSS:CA’s side characters look like Citizen Kane in comparison. I mean, at least Clint and Natalie and MC stopped whinging about Rory ⅓rd of the way through the series.
At least when other high-school-setting books like ROD, WEH, and ILITW were made, they at least somewhat bothered to change up a few things and make it feel like an actually different school. They changed up the backgrounds a bit, used different school colors and uniforms, and didn’t reuse nearly as many sprites from HSS.
In MTFL, all they did was make new cheer uniforms for the non-reused sprites and remove the Berry High logos from everything HSS that they used. Yeah they made some changes, but it’s clear that they didn’t put nearly the same amount of effort into it as they did in the other high school setting books.
All it does is just make me miss HSS. Like, stop toying with my heart by piggybacking off of a better series (that has better queer rep too) so much. It’s to the point where it feels like they should have just used the time making this book to instead make a HSS senior year (Which, y’know, would be nice, especially since the sendoff we got in HSS:CA 3 was absolute flaming fucking garbage).
So… in all honesty, I don’t hate this book. But it had a lot of things that annoyed me to no end and it sure as fuck is disappointing wasted potential. It had a great opportunity to be a nice queer coming-of-age story. But instead it felt like a Kissing Booth rip-off with serious themes only hamfisted in order to make it seem more “mature”.
#choices stories you play#choices#choices game#choices stories we play fandom#choices stories we play#choices mtfl#mtfl#my two first loves#choices my two first loves
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IT'S SPOOKY SEASON AND I COULD NOT BE MORE EXCITED FOR YOUR SPOOKY COME BACK
can I please request Hassan and 30 Days of Night? I wanna smash two of my faves together 🖤
I finally finished something!!! Yay! Also you were insane for this...but I should've seen it coming
My Hands Won't Keep You Safe
Pairing: Sheriff Hassan el-Shabbaz x Reader
Warnings/notes: blood; violence; I was overwhelmed by all the directions I could've gone with this but I ultimately wanted "soft"; it's actually pretty tame but I LOVE IT
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1368
Your hand rests in Hassan’s and you try not to think about how you can feel his blood moving under his skin. Or how you can hear every heartbeat in the room.
“What are we going to do?” you had asked.
“Whatever you want to do,” he’d replied.
The others all wanted you dead, still do probably, but you had been the only one to hear the scream, the only one to run out into the night and bring her back alive.
They’d pulled the girl away from you and tried to bring an ax down on your neck. Would have if Hassan hadn’t put himself in the way.
A wave of nausea passes over you and you rest your head against the bars. Your skin is clammy from a sickly, burning heat, the epicenter the cut on your neck. You pass your tongue over your teeth, feeling the unnatural sharpness of them. The keen tangy smell of sweat hits the back of your throat but there's something else, something richer and sweeter coming to the surface. You look over to where Hassan is sleeping uncomfortably just on the other side of the bars and all you see is fire. He's bright and warm and for a moment you think the sun has come several days early. You want to reach out to him. You want to sink your teeth into him and taste the sun. You clench your eyes shut and cover your face.
“Are you hungry?” You look up at the sound of a gentle voice. The small girl with blood crusted in her hair is standing on the other side of the bars, holding a granola bar in her hands. You give her a smile that’s more like a wince, and shake your head, even though you’re starving. She tugs awkwardly at the sleeve of her jacket and the action catches your eye. So does the small trickle of blood working its way down the back of her hand.
“Are you okay?” you ask, but you already know the answer. It comes to you through your nose. Something smells off, you don’t know any other way to describe it. The girl doesn’t answer, doesn’t get the chance to.
“Get away from there.” It’s Roberta, an older woman who always spared you a kind smile, which makes the scowl she gives you that much more painful. Roberta takes the girl by the arm, guiding her away from the cell door. You watch Cliff–the man who came at you with the ax–take their place, his brow furrowing, nostrils flaring, knuckles white around his weapon.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Cliff says. “Those things are tearing this town to pieces and we’re supposed to sit here and wait for this one to turn? No. No, I’m not gonna do it.” Hassan slowly pushes himself to his feet, towering over the agitated man.
“What are you doing, Cliff?” he asks, his tone almost conversational.
“C’mon, Sheriff, look at them!” Cliff says, as if that’s all the argument he needs–and maybe it is. “They're a ticking time bomb! For Christ’s sake–they already look just like those things!” You turn away at the feeling of eyes on you.
“I’m not interested in unnecessary bloodshed here,” Hassan simply states.
“Unnecessary?” Cliff scoffs. “Way I see it, we’re just getting ahead of things, and you’re afraid to admit I’m right.” A tighter, more threatening circle had formed around Hassan as Cliff spoke and Hassan eyes each haggard, hungry survivor carefully.
“They aren't hurting anybody, and that girl is alive because of them, or have you all forgotten?” There’s a pause as the entire room seems to let go of the breath it’s holding. You hear a sound like the scuttling of rats.
Cliff opens his mouth to speak, but you shush him, hearing something land on the roof of the building next door. Hassan crouches down, his face close to the bars.
“What is it?’ he whispers.
“They’re surrounding us,” you reply, your voice just as quiet. Hassan turns to talk to the others, his hand outstretched in a calming gesture, but before he can get a word out, Cliff strikes him in the side of the head with the ax handle. Hassan’s head bounces brutally off the metal bars and he collapses limply to the floor. You cry out before you can think better of it, and reach out to him. Cliff brings the ax down and you recoil before he can strike your arm.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says to the others, and when some hesitate: “what? You wanna stay with someone who’s gonna gamble with your safety? Who’s gonna risk your lives for one of them?” He gestures to you with the butt of his ax. “Get going, we’ll make for the general store like we planned.” You try to catch the attention of those with doubt in their eyes, those who know you, who care for Hassan, who don’t want blood on their hands. You try to tell them it’s not safe, but none listen. They all leave, one by one, wind and snow blustering in behind them. Cliff hangs behind, and you watch as he searches Hassan’s pockets and belt. He comes up with the cell keys and dangles them triumphantly before you. Without taking his eyes off you, he pockets them and leaves, not bothering to close the door.
The scent of blood is overwhelming.
“Hassan?” You lay down on your stomach and reach through the bars, giving Hassan’s body a soft shake. Your hand moves to his face, turning his head towards you. A patch of blood stains the right side of his head and face, but his heart is still beating.
Soft growls make you stop breathing, and your eyes rest on the back door Cliff left open. Snow scatters across the floor, the wind wailing like a ghost. Another threat you can do absolutely nothing about. Cliff means to make you watch Hassan die–one way or another. Your stomach sits in a tight knot and you want to throw yourself against the cell door.
You carefully drag Hassan as close to the bars as you can, his arm resting in your lap, the skin of his wrist exposed. Those creatures will not have him. The cold will not have him.
Screams shatter the night, followed by the animalistic shrieks of the creatures. Something bolts past the open door and your body tenses. Hassan still hasn’t woken, and you glance at his slack face. When your eyes return to the door a figure waits there. It stands motionless, shrouded in the thick darkness. Your grip on Hassan tightens. You run your tongue over your lips.
You bring Hassan’s wrist to your mouth, but you’re suddenly not sure if you can do it.
The figure passes over the threshold, ushered in by the wind.
"Forgive me," you whisper.
The figure moves soundlessly, taking their time. Your teeth brush at his soft skin.
You can’t break it. Your mouth is frozen, your eyes open in a wide, desperate panic, your breathing frantic. You can’t do it. You have to do it.
A hand reaches through the bars. A small hand, holding a set of keys. You let go of Hassan. You can make out the little girl in the lamplight now. Her eyes are like yours. Her mouth is bloody. You glance at Hassan, worried she’ll turn her hungry attention to him, but she doesn’t seem interested. She just shakes the keys at you, and they jingle sharply.
You let yourself out quickly and go to Hassan, taking him in your arms. His eyes open slowly, as if they’d rather stay closed.
“I have to get him somewhere safe,” you say to the girl. “I have to–” you look down at the wet, warm spot of blood on your hand, the sunlight coming from Hassan’s head wound, and your mind empties, your mouth waters, your stomach aches, your whole body seems to wake up and reach for it. You clamp down on your tongue with your needle teeth and smear the blood on your pants.
“I have to get him somewhere safe,” you repeat, hauling the semi-conscious Hassan to his feet.
#spooky season#spooky season fic#30 days of night#midnight mass#sheriff hassan#rahul kohli#acrossthesestars
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My sister and I @makemeanangelpure are going to lose
Starting tomorrow really on July 30. I have a surgery tomorrow so I don’t eat or drink anything tonight past midnight. It’ll be a good starting day. I’ll be too tired from medicine and the procedure to want anything but we need to finish what we have in the fridge. Celery, cherries, tangerines and apples. I can boil baby carrots for her. We have a premade salad that can be for when those are gone. We’re going to be mostly vegan. Been admiring the lifestyle forever. Maybe one day or not at all I’ll go 100% we’ll see. So most any snacks if at all will be vegan. I’ll allow Quaker rice cakes as a substitute for crackers as an over all healthier option. Drink almond or oat milk when we can. Get one substitute creamer and one that a more fun flavor even if it has dairy in it. I’m thinking I’ll allow meat thrice a month and it can’t be a repeat. Like it can be steak, chicken, fish. Typically this will be a special meal at home or we’ve gone out for an event. I won’t be wasting my meat omad on fucking McDonald’s or Cane’s the good shit. Not all Alchohol is vegan but I’m not gonna worry about it and just try to keep drinking as a Friday-Sunday thing if I want. Of course if there an outing that’s special mid week where they drink I’ll get one too. Drinks are fun I just won’t abuse it. Upping the water intake is going to be important so I will be bringing water in a water bottle and put lemon slice in it or some shit to make it taste nicer. No eating will be done at work. Per usual, they’re going to try and tempt and force onto me donuts and breakfast tacos, but I won’t budge and keep drinking me lemon/fruit water. When my mom died I got into a habit of putting Cajun seasoning on everything and I mean fucking everything like even salad and a white chocolate macadamia cookie for Christ’s sake. Well we still have 2-3 containers of that. We can have it on something once-thrice a month. Eventually it’ll run out. By then I’ll just not use it anymore. We’ll be doing three days of work. It’s a physical job. I’ll go to the gym Fridays with my bro and once a week with out partner. I’ll tone out nicely and get strength and a flow back after surgery. Sucks. We were only better from the flu about two weeks before this kidney stone thing happened. I want to get her those Harley Davidson shoes for $75. If they’re still there when we make progress hitting 107, I’ll get them for her. We gotta hurry alright? Before they’re gone alright? There you go, good motivation right there. I can get one of the cd’s I’ve been looking at there forever.. or a new pair of vintage jeans. We’ll be going to that con in December. No spending after those shoes, unless it’s for con supplies. Save all you can otherwise. 4 months to prepare. In 4 months we can have completely different bodies.
We can look how we do in our heads. Baby sister, don’t you want that?
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Tyler Posey- Insecurities
Being in the public eye has its positives and it’s negatives. Unfortunately some days the negatives seems to out way the positives. When I was asked to come back to film for the Teen Wolf movie I was more than excited to. I couldn’t wait to see my best friends, some who I’ve not seen for a while now and working with my boyfriend,Tyler, again I just couldn’t wait. But I know since we finished the final season I have put on weight which the media have picked up on. Tyler and I have been dating since season 4 of Teen Wolf and tonight is date night. We have both been busy today filming but knowing that it was only a day shoot for all of us we decided that today would be perfect. Weirdly Tyler has told me to get ready in my trailer.
So here I am trying on dress options I had brought with me. Trying to get ready for my date but I just can't find the right one. I'm looking at myself in my full length mirror. Sighing I sit on my couch and look at Instagram for ideas, maybe I can text Holland or Shelly to run to mine and Tyler’s hotel room and get me some more clothes. However instead I end up seeing different Instagram models. Stupidly I begin to compare myself to them. The extra skin on my stomach, my thighs, my arms. I sit there not realising that I'm crying until my trailer door opens
“Tyler wants to know if your nearly ready because…. oh my god YN what’s wrong?” In runs Holland, shutting the door behind her “Are you hurt? Feel sick? Has something happened between you and Tyler?”
“No” I shake my head
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Just in my head”
“About what?” Holland is now by my side pulling me into her
“Why does he love me?”
"What do you mean? YN Tyler loves the hell out of you, do you not realise how much he talks to the boys about you? God he doesn't shut up about you YN he loves you. What’s brought this on? You know he loves you”
“I know he loves me, but why. He could have anyone. A model for Christ sake, but he chose me” Holland then looks over at my phone and sees that I’m on Instagram
“You really need to get off social media if it’s hurting you so much. These bodies are fake, you are real and that what Tyler loves about you. So let’s get you dressed and redo your makeup because Tyler is waiting”
"I'm not in the mood to go out now. Can you tell Tyler I’m not feeling well”
“Not gonna happen because either way you have to see Tyler, you live together remember. And anyway he has something planned so come on we have got 30 minutes before the love of your life will knock on that door with a bunch of flower"
Just as Holland had said 30 minutes later, Tyler knocks on the door with a bunch of peonies, my favourite flowers.
Tyler takes us for a picnic on the lacrosse field, this is where we had our first on screen kiss together, but also where we had our first off screen kiss. Where we both fell in love
"Babe are you ok? You've been really quite"
"I don't want to ruin our date"
"Talk to me. We can have more dates but I can't help you if you don't talk to me and tell me what's wrong"
"It's just..." I sigh placing my head on his shoulder "I see these girls on Instagram and then there's me. I'm nothing special and I just don't understand how you could love me when I look like this. I know you love me, but you could have anyone, the media tell me enough that I’ve started to believe them”
"Hey, look at me” I lift up my head and look into Tyler’s eyes “you know what I see. A beautiful, caring, sexy woman who puts other people before herself. I love you YN YLN"
"Even though I'm not stick thin with huge boobs and perfect flowing hair"
"You are perfect to me. Everything about you, I'm not with those Instagram models for a reason. I will do anything to show you that it's you I want. I never what you to feel like I don't want you so that why I'm going to do this" I look at him confused then shocked as I watch him shift and keel on one knee and pull out a box "I have loved you from the moment I set eyes on you. I don't care that you don't look like those Instagram models, your beautiful and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So YN YLN will you marry me?" I begin to cry
"Yes. Yes of course I'll marry you" Tyler puts the ring on my finger and then there's loads of cheers, I look around to see all our friends running to us
"I told you he had something planned" Holland tackles me to the ground in a hug me
“Carful don’t break my fiancé”
“Ahhh your a fiancé!” Shelly squeals with Crystal. I get up and hug Tyler, gently placing a kiss on his lips
"I love you YN"
"I love you too Ty”
#teen wolf cast#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf actress#teen wolf#tyler posey x reader#tyler posey#tyler posey imagine
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Living Dangerously - Chapter 31
Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?
A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.
But would they die for it?
Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)
Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc
Warnings: some swears, graphic injury description, use of guns
Tagging: @heresthefanfiction @ocappreciation @wordspin-shares @howlingmadlady @arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @starryeyes2000 @kmc1989 (please lmk if you would like informed of my sporadic updates)
Read on Ao3
Chapter 30 | Chapter 32
Separate Ways - Journey
“Oh my God.” Lizzy’s hand went to her mouth.
“I’m fairly keen to contain the situation.” Muldoon kept his tone matter-of-fact. “You can imagine.”
Ed Regis had finally noticed something was awry and was shooting agitated glances in their direction. Lizzy chose to ignore him. “How did this happen?”
“Esteves managed to let it out.”
”What?!” It couldn’t possibly be true. “Rico knows better than that!”
”My thoughts exactly. Don’t worry, he’ll get the bollocking of his life once I’ve retrieved the blasted animal.” He turned to see her still following him. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, I think I’m coming with you!” Lizzy made to push past him so she could beat Regis to the door. “That’s my blasted animal!”
”Not a chance. Stay inside.” He blocked her escape. “You certainly aren’t going anywhere dressed like that.”
“Oh, really? Well, you clearly know best. I’m sure I’ll be just fine, left alone with all these strange, lonely men.” She deliberately adjusted the neckline of her dress. “Uh-huh, perfectly safe.”
Silence. Lizzy could practically see the cogs turning.
“I’ve changed my mind.” He decided. “Keep up, Armstrong.”
***
“Seriously, boss?” Tom despaired. “She can’t even walk in that monstrosity, never mind run if something chases her!”
“Let me just go change!” Lizzy chewed him out. “Oh, wait. We don’t have time!”
Her hair was already doing its damnedest to escape the updo Kathy had painstakingly donated her entire collection of bobby pins towards. Stray curls were popping free all over her head. Tom tossed Lizzy his bone-handled folding knife that he’d kept tucked down the side of one of his leather boots. “At least sort your dress out, would ya? You’re gonna hold us up.”
He had a point.
She fumbled, only just managing not to drop the blade in the dark, and began hacking away at the hem.
“Sorry, Ed…” The cheap material began to rip nicely, and then stopped after a few millimetres. She was no better off.
“Christ’s…sake…” Lizzy struggled, grunting. What the Hell was it made from? Her palms were sweating and she couldn’t get any purchase on the material, infuriatingly it kept slipping straight through her fingers.
“Leave it.” Muldoon took pity on her, bending down.
“But-“
“Don’t read into this too much.” He told her as he took hold of her dress and tore it from mid-thigh to hip as easily as if it were made of paper.
“Steady on.” Lizzy’s heart about near stopped.
“Just get in the Jeep.”
”Right!” Lizzy hurriedly tore off her heels and flung them in the back of the vehicle, wincing as the gravel dug into her soles. It was a welcome relief, far less painful than the shoes.
“Was that good for you, Liz?” Tom muttered as Muldoon slammed his door shut. “Quick work.”
”Enough, Kennedy.”
Lizzy smacked the back of his headrest in retaliation. “Oops.”
“Hey! Watch it!” Tom protectively reached upwards.
”They even make cowboy hats large enough for your big big head?” She couldn’t resist giving him back just as hard. “Or is that a custom?”
”Stetson. Stetson. How many times?” Tom clearly took serious offence. “It’s a goddamn stetson!”
***
They were following the raptor on her journey across the island, Arnold giving directions over the comm link, trying to stay parallel to her trail using the roads. They’d been driving for a while, but were drawing ever closer as the animal tired.
The air was getting heavier, no stars to be seen that night, obscured by the black thunderclouds closing in on Isla Nublar.
Lizzy was fully invested in the raptor hunt, keeping an eye on the road ahead from the safety of the Jeep, but her mind was unhelpfully wandering to other matters.
Against what Muldoon had warned her about, she was reading into the dress-ripping situation, heavily.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Her longing wasn’t helped by the man in question shooting her glances in the rearview mirror now and again. Like he knew exactly what was rumbling around in her head.
“Bring your glasses?” Muldoon finally spoke.
”I refer you to my earlier answer, when you asked about my radio.” Lizzy reminded him. “If you can’t see it, then I don’t have it.”
“Just as well, I only brought two guns.”
“Boys hunting trip, then.”
In fact, looking at the pair of them in the front seats, it could almost be father and son setting out into the woods for a game shoot.
Lizzy nearly opened her mouth to taunt Tom about it, but thought better. She wasn’t that much of a dick, to bring up what was likely a very sore subject for him. Hell, she was one to talk, she had enough family issues of her own.
“She’s stopped.” Arnold announced to the Jeep. “Fifty feet to the south-east.”
“Radio silence then, please. Over and out.” Muldoon confirmed, putting the car in neutral and turning the ignition off. “Don’t suppose you have a plan?” Tom drawled. “Or are we free-styling this, as per usual?”
“She goes to a marker now.” Lizzy interjected. “I’ll have to get close, but let me try.”
”She does what?!” Lizzy heard Tom mutter incredulously.
“Get close?” Muldoon wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. “I don’t bloody well think so. That’s Sarah Harding levels of stupidity!” Fair enough, if Armstrong could make the raptor behave when there was a fence separating her from danger, and the dinosaur from a possible meal. But her bold proposal confirmed what Muldoon had suspected for a while.
Unless she’d made unbelievable progress in a few short weeks, the ethologist had been coming to study the raptor without him.
“Just-“
“I’m not having you do that.” He thought of the grisly photograph he’d seen of the Ruso woman’s mangled fingers. And the animal was much, much bigger now.
”Uh, guys-“ Tom tried to get their attention. “It’ll work!” Lizzy persisted.
“Still no, Ar-“
”Guys!”
“What?!” Muldoon and Lizzy replied at the same time.
”There.” Tom pointed in a whisper-yell. “Shit, she’s right there.”
Lizzy squinted, then sure enough, she saw the eyes.
All three of them got out of the vehicle, Lizzy silently passing the men the tranquilliser guns that had been propped up beside her on the back seat.
The ethologist couldn’t help herself, she was drawn in. She edged closer, marvelling at the way the dinosaur just disappeared amongst the vegetation. Seeing her without an electric fence in the way or other obstacles in the way, she was stunning. The ideal predator. As Lizzy watched, the raptor’s nostrils flared and she snorted sharply, catching a scent on the wind.
Her head jerked around, with a few irritable snaps of her jaws. Her third eyelid slipped across and then back again in a white film. Then the raptor fixed her stare on Lizzy, and the young dinosaur’s entire body stiffened.
All three humans heard a faint sound, it took Muldoon a moment to realise it was a low but constant snarl, coming from the raptor. It invoked memories of Africa deep in his bones, it sounded remarkably similar to the noise that came from the undergrowth when a big cat decided it had an issue with his limbs being firmly attached to his body, and was going to do something to rectify that.
He had no idea why the raptor had suddenly taken issue with her handler, but a more pressing issue was that Armstrong had nothing to defend herself with.
“Get in the car, now.” Muldoon pushed the ethologist behind him, blocking Lizzy from the raptor’s penetrating gaze. “Slowly.”
Thankful for her bare feet, she obeyed. She slipped like a shadow, shifting her body in reverse behind the door, then back into her seat with barely a sound. Lizzy left the door ajar. Impossible to shut it quietly.
The raptor had hunkered down in the bushes. Waiting for the humans to move first. Daring them.
Just try it. See what happens.
No such thing as a clear shot anymore.
“Damn, if she bolts, we’re back to square one.” Muldoon muttered only just loud enough for Lizzy to hear, the pair of reptilian eyes reflecting amber back at them from the darkness.
“She wants to get to me. You square up to her, draw her attention, then Tom takes the shot from the side.” Lizzy suggested.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Broadside is a bigger target.” She pressed. “Front on, she’s too narrow. And Tom can’t cover you at close range, the Jeep’s in the way.”
“I won’t miss.” Muldoon’s words were clipped, he wasn’t happy with her plan.
“Listen, the three of us have zero experience stalking this animal.” Lizzy pointed out. “Even you. We haven’t seen her hunt in the wild, I don’t have a gun to cover you. So let’s cut down the error margins.”
“Suppose.” He reluctantly agreed. “Kennedy-“
”I got it. Flanking now. Keep her engaged.”
The Texan simply disappeared, his tall form melting into the darkness without a sound, and the two of them just had to assume he was carrying out the plan as agreed.
The raptor stood like a statue, still rumbling viciously. Then she fell silent, and that was somehow more chilling. The eye of the storm. Her head cocked to one side.
Lizzy realised the velociraptor could likely hear Tom’s footsteps, even if they couldn’t. The wind caught her hair and she realised they were upwind, shit- He could be in real danger.
“Close your door.” Muldoon clearly had the same thought.
Lizzy blinked, unsure she’d heard right. ”It’ll make a noise.”
“That’s the idea.” He didn’t take his eyes off the raptor. “Draw the bugger out.”
“If you’re sure.” Her stomach flipped from the thought of the dinosaur rushing at him.
”Do it.”
Okay, you asked for it.
Lizzy slammed her door shut and the raptor snarled at the disturbance, getting more agitated as she took a few steps forward, unsure now her attention was split two ways.
Muldoon snarled back. ”Come on. Face me, you devil.”
Lizzy could practically see the crosshairs zeroing in on the side of her body, unobstructed by branches.
Now, Tom.
The raptor’s shining eyes dropped low to the ground and she was hunkering down to charge-
Take the shot take the shot taketheshot-
Her breath quickened at the incoming attack, then the pop to her side as Tom’s gun went off made Lizzy jump.
The dinosaur screamed and turned away into the undergrowth, racing off with barely a rustle.
“Stay there, Armstrong.” Muldoon was already striding forward to check.
”Honestly.”
”Do I need to lock the damn door?”
No she murmured grudgingly.
There was a muffled thump from outside the bright pool of the Jeep headlights. The raptor was down.
Tom materialised out of the darkness, grinning happily. “I got her behind the ear.”
”Good lad.” The park warden clapped him on the shoulder as they went to find where the raptor had fallen. “Risky shot.”
“My favourite kind.”
“Show-off.” Muldoon nudged the dinosaur with his boot, then finally lowered his gun, calling to Lizzy, still in the Jeep. “Suppose you want to give it a once over?”
“Yes!” Lizzy was practically hanging out of the window with desperation.
“Get out here, then.”
The ethologist piled out of the car and ran over to examine her animal. Muldoon should have been ordering the raptor loaded into the back of the Jeep as soon as possible. But he knew what she wanted. Lizzy appreciated being given a even few moments with the most intriguing creature she’d ever had the pleasure of studying.
She checked the raptor‘s pulse with two fingers under the jaw, watching her sternum rise and fall, marvelling at the animal she admired from afar but was never allowed to touch. She squinted and ran her palm over the crest of the dinosaurs neck. Were those pinfeathers coming through?
“Oh, rad.” She murmured, tempted to pull one out to show Henry Wu over breakfast the next day, but she resisted.
“We’ve discussed how clever these ones are.” Muldoon stated, standing over her.
“Many times.”
“Hm.” He nodded. ”I wouldn’t be surprised if it remembers all that.”
***
“That worked out rather nicely.” Lizzy was relieved. Situation contained.
“Could have gone worse.” Muldoon agreed, pausing. “But we need to have a word, about you coming to visit it without me.”
”Oh, someone’s in trouble…” Tom whispered gleefully.
Lizzy looked extremely guilty, but didn’t have an answer. At least, not a convincing one.
“I should have known.” Muldoon continued, trying to sound more annoyed than he felt. At this point, he wasn’t even fazed anymore. “Always forging ahead.”
“Sorry, I just-“ Lizzy ducked her head, knowing there was no point. “-I really want to give her the best chance possible. I truly believe she can be managed.”
”Well, that’s alright then.” The sarcasm was laid on thick.
”The breakout wasn’t her fault.”
“Not this time.” It was the same story with every zoo in the world, and there were always repeat offenders. The odd animal that just seemed naturally disposed to break everything. “That won’t be the last.”
Silence hung heavy in the cab of the Jeep.
“You’ve been training the raptor?” Tom asked dubiously. Was Lizzy imagining it or did he sound almost impressed?
She groaned out loud. She knew she couldn’t exactly count on the Lone Ranger to be discrete.
“I suppose it’s not the best-kept secret ever.” She grudgingly admitted. “But, yes, we-…well, I have.”
Tom started roaring with laughter. “You got a death wish, lady?! That’s insane!”
“Tell me about it.” Muldoon agreed.
“You let her do this shit?” Tom incredulously asked.
”She does what she bloody well pleases.”
”He doesn’t let me do anything!” Lizzy rolled her eyes. “You don’t own me, Muldoon.”
He glanced back at her again in the mirror. This time Lizzy was ready for him, she was chewing on her knuckle as she stared out of the window, and let slip a full-on grin.
And whose fault is that?
She could see the smile in his eyes, even in the letterbox sized rectangle of glass.
Tom was oblivious.
“I’ve heard some crazy stories on this island, but man…you gotta show me that! Sit, stay, lie down!” He started guffawing again.
“Alright, it’s not that funny.” Lizzy said moodily, quickly tiring of being laughed at.
“Play- play dead-“ Tom abruptly stopped laughing and sat up straight. “Oh my God, is that what she’s doing right now?”
He hurriedly turned around in his seat to check the raptor was still sound asleep in the back.
”I like to keep her brain busy, she’s all by herself.” Lizzy explained. “It’s gonna pay off someday…though apparently not today-“
“We are not doing a test run when it’s already up here with stress.” Muldoon tapped the roof of the Jeep. “If you’re going to do that, get your affairs in order first.”
“She’s always stressed, what difference does it make?” Lizzy countered. “Being free range for an hour probably did her a world of good.”
Muldoon scoffed. “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re just as concerned about my stress levels.”
***
“I’m going to walk the fence. Check for damage.” Muldoon nodded at the dinosaur in the back of the Jeep. “You two deal with that.” “Hurry up and help me, Liz.” Tom was already sliding the raptor forward. “Before she wakes up for real.”
“Jesus, she’s big now.” Lizzy’s voice was strained as she lifted. “And solid.”
“Come on then, Miss Raptor Expert.” Tom huffed as they carried the dinosaur with awkward, shuffling steps. “She could have attacked us at any point, why didn’t she? She rushed me, I’da been screwed.”
”She knew she was outnumbered.” Lizzy said simply. “She didn’t have back-up.”
“They ain’t stupid, then?”
“Not at all.” She grunted, adjusting her grip.
”Which begs the question-“ Tom “What happens when she gets the friends they’re so desperately trying to breed?”
Lizzy fell silent. “Better hope these fences are up to spec, that’s all I’m gonna say.” Tom muttered under his breath.
The gate was still wide open. It was unsettling, difficult not to imagine an animal charging out of the darkness and nailing them both where they stood, though the only occupant of the paddock was unconscious right in front of their eyes.
“Hey, Liz. She’s got into something while she was out.” Tom was staring at the raptor’s jaws. “Look.”
”It’s fresh.” Lizzy frowned, her upper lip curling. “Really fresh.”
The blood hadn’t yet clotted. The odd fleck of bright red dripped off and spattered on the ground, leaving a gory trail as they moved the dinosaur back into her enclosure.
”Probably just a rat. Won’t need feeding tomorrow, even with the extra running around.”
”Yes, she will.” Lizzy pointed out something that never ceased to bother her. “Tom, she’s always hungry.”
”Growing still, ain’t she?” He seemed nonplussed. “No big deal.”
”It’s more than that. I know this animal. She would eat until she burst. And then look for more. She’s constantly hunting, it’s like a compulsion.”
”You think they ever starved her, as punishment?” He suggested. “That’s why she’s obsessed with food?”
The thought honestly hadn’t occurred to Lizzy before. “That’s horrible.”
”They do things differently over on Sorna, don’t they?”
Lizzy recalled what Muldoon had told her. The production line. The mortality rate. Thousands of dead. InGen’s legacy built on the blood of infant creatures.
“So I’ve heard.” Lizzy felt fiercely protective towards the raptor. Defensive in the same way that Tom had jumped in when she herself was threatened earlier that evening.
Nobody messes with her but me.
It’s measured in rounds.
“Shit, I can see her eyes moving.” Tom complained. Sure enough, the raptor was letting out faint croaks as she slowly woke. ”Hurry up, dickmunch.”
”Huh, that’s a new one.” Lizzy grunted.
Muldoon had reappeared by then.
“Double and triple check that gate, both of you. Then check it again.”
Tom ironically saluted, rattling the gate hard once he and Lizzy were satisfied it was firmly closed.
“Hop on.” Tom turned around, offering her a piggyback to the Jeep. “Mud’s pretty deep. At least, you’d hope it was mud.”
“What a gentleman.” She hadn’t minded until then, carrying on stoically with no shoes, but her feet were starting to get cold.
”I do have my moments.”
Lizzy winced as she heard the stitching in the dress creak and pop as she clambered on, despite taking a few moments to roll it up over her thighs. She wondered how long she had before it gave up entirely.
“Shit, no-“ Tom realised his stetson was in the process of toppling off, headed straight for the sludge under his feet.
Lizzy deftly caught it before it tumbled further downwards and propped it atop her own head.
”Thanks, Liz.” Tom muttered. “Mom got me that hat.”
”Stetson.”
She heard him rumble in humour against her stomach. “Yeah, right, stetson.”
When they got back to the Jeep the park warden seemed to be in a remarkably upbeat mood. Lizzy reminded herself he considered going out and finding things in the dark to be a good time. She knew from her own experience.
“Am I dropping you two off back at the party?”
“Please, no.” Lizzy couldn’t find her heels in the pool of darkness that was the Jeep bed. She gave up and resigned herself to staying barefoot. “I’m done. Take us home.”
“Don’t you want to give Regis an aneurysm? I’d say this is an improvement.” Muldoon smirked at the state she was in.
Lizzy could imagine what she looked like, covered in mud, make-up smudged. Hair beyond saving.
“Enough leg for you?” She wasn’t in a terrible mood herself.
”Too much for me, in every single sense.” Tom groaned. “I already regret those oysters but I don’t think it’s them making me feel green. Gimme my stetson back.”
“No, I like it.” Lizzy ducked out of his reach.
“Then get your own. You’re gonna bend mine all out of shape with your stupid big hair.” Muldoon just shook his head, knowing it was pointless to intervene, and reached for his radio.
“Baker, we’re done, over.”
“Great job, guys.” Lizzy picked up that Kathy didn’t sound as relieved as she should have been. “Turning in.”
“Uh, Muldoon? We do have another problem, over.”
”What now?” He turned to Lizzy and Tom in disbelief. “I’m knackered.”
“Nobody can find Rico.” Kathy replied. “He’s gone.”
***
“What did you say to him?!” Lizzy was furious, she demanded to know as she stormed through the control room door at Muldoon’s heels. “Tell me!”
“I told him to stay out of the way.” He replied calmly. “Esteves, come in-”
Lizzy snatched the radio straight from his hand, taking over the transmission.
”Rico, it’s me. Please let us know you’re okay. I’ll come find you, if…if you want me to.”
”Over.” Muldoon reminded her.
”…over.” She glared up at him.
The radio crackled in response. “Shhhh!” Lizzy gasped in relief. “Guys, listen up! Rico, is that you?”
The overhead speaker was giving a constant weather report in light of the storm, it sounded like the shipping forecast, Spanish version.
“Rico?” Lizzy strained to hear before swinging around to the rest of the room in anger. “Jesus Christ, somebody turn that thing off!”
Isaac dealt with the overhead while everyone waited, collectively holding their breath. Only barely audible in the silence, the garbled words ”-izzy…help-“ finally came through.
Then nothing but static.
“Rico? Rico! Shit!”
”Folks-“ Arnold looked up from the security monitors, his face ashen. “Someone should call for Harding. I think I’ve found him.”
”Ray?” Kathy began to move around to try and see what had spooked him so badly.
”Nuh-uh, Kit.” The engineer hurriedly covered the screen with his hands. “Trust me honey, don’t look.”
Lizzy turned, searching for Muldoon in the crowd. “We’ve gotta-“
The park warden nodded at her, before turning to Arnold.
”Where?”
***
They found him quickly.
Gerry Harding took one look at Rico and demanded the helicopter pilot make ready to fly to the mainland. The investors, and Hammond, wouldn’t be leaving soon, anyway. The weather conditions were declining by the minute.
The rain was thrashing down, it looked like the pilot might be navigating through a storm, but there was no other choice.
Lizzy had ridden in the back of the Jeep to the site of the accident with Harding, tight-lipped and silent, clutching his equipment bag to his chest. Muldoon was driving right on the edge of reason, road conditions worsening by the second.
The manhunt began, following Arnold’s garbled directions, and she had been the one to find Rico, slumped face down, unmoving against a tree-trunk. He’s dead.
That was her first thought. Her breath had hitched, the rest of the world falling away.
No.
She swallowed down the bile pooling in her mouth and forced herself to move closer. She nearly cried in relief when she saw he was breathing shallowly, still clinging to life.
Then she and Harding had turned him over carefully, and the veterinarian had sworn loudly, rocking back on his heels in disbelief and denial when he saw what he was up against.
Lizzy felt like she was detached, watching events unfolding from outside her body. The state of Rico’s front, more outside than in, made her wish he was already dead, that she had never found him. A small, irrational part of her brain wished she had covered him over with a branch and left him, as if he were sleeping.
Anything would have been better than the impossible task ahead of them.
What’s that noise?
Jesus, it’s coming from him…
Sucking chest wound-
It’s flail chest, shit-
Looks like a collapsed lung too-
Internal bleeding-
Where’s the fucking chopper?!
Lizzy reached down, searching for his hands to hold-
His hands.
God, his hands. They’d been sliced to the bone, flesh ragged and chewed at the fingertips. She knew these wounds, she’d seen them before. He’d been slashed at, then grabbed and shaken as he’d tried to keep his arms up to defend himself.
Lizzy glanced up at Muldoon, he caught her eye as he urgently spoke to someone on a second radio channel.
He had considerably more experience with animal attacks, he would know better than her if the kid could possibly make it out alive.
Muldoon paused talking, and gave a her small shake of his head.
Lizzy’s insides froze solid.
“Gerry-“ She’d started sobbing and panting in desperation.
”Pick a God and start praying, Liz.” The veterinarian interrupted grimly. “Because I can’t do this alone.”
“What do you ne-“
”An operating theatre. This is too big a job for out in the field.” Harding spoke quickly. “Talk to him, keep him awake. Do not let him fall back asleep.”
“Okay.” Lizzy replied shakily.
“There’s a good girl.” “Stretcher! Now!” Kathy was yelling orders. She sounded so far away. “Isaac, help guide the chopper down!”
“Mama, mama…” Rico moaned, reaching out for Lizzy’s face, leaving a smear of fresh blood and foamy raptor saliva on her chin. She nearly retched at the rotten stench, directly under her nose.
“Si, si, niño. Esta bien.” Lizzy regained her wits and reassured him in her weak Spanish, trying to find a part of his arms she could gently rub that wasn’t cut and bloodied. She wished she could hold his hands, she so badly wanted to.
Lizzy did her to best to comfort her friend, though she was trembling from a mixture of cold and shock, having to bury her face in her elbow to stop herself heaving from the stench on him. He smelled of death, of rotting flesh. “Cariño, it’s okay, it’s okay….”
Her eyes burned, tears mixing with the rainwater battering the entire team into the ground. The hot earth was turning into a swamp all around them.
“Ready, kid? This is gonna really hurt him.” Harding warned her. “We can’t wait for the pain meds to kick in.”
”More than he’s already hurting?”
”Good point.” The vet agreed as he took a deep breath and continued.
Lizzy had done her fair share of first responding, but didn’t expect Rico to suddenly shoot upright from the pain, so fast he nearly headbutted her, his eyes flying open like a reanimated corpse, before he groaned in agony and flopped back limply on the stretcher.
She looked to Harding for guidance, whose only instruction through gritted teeth was hold him down.
“Shit-“ She whimpered.
“What do we got- woah!” Ed Regis exclaimed, coming to a standstill at the sight of the youngest animal handler torn to shreds. “Jesus, what happened?”
”Get him out of here!” Lizzy commanded without tearing her eyes away from Rico. She wanted to protect him, shield him from Ed’s prying eyes.
She knew now, whose fault this was. And it wasn’t the injured boy lying prone beneath her. Regis made it happen.
“Mama!” Rico screeched, beginning to thrash his limbs where he lay. The colour had rapidly leached from his tanned face, now he was grey and sallow. A disgusting mix of snot, blood and saliva was bubbling up with every laboured breath he took.
”I’m here, I’m here!” Lizzy cried frantically, worried she was hurting him more, regretting she hadn’t tried harder to learn his native Portuguese while she had the chance so she could comfort him better.
Harding was still working as quickly as he could to stabilise the boy. The veterinarian looked harrowed, like he was barely holding back the flood himself as they manoeuvred Rico onto the stretcher.
Lizzy moaned in fear, repeating the same words like a mantra. “…gonna be okay, gonna be okay…I’ll take you to Africa, Rico, I promise, just hang on…”
His eyes were darting around under the lids, like he was lost in a nightmare. His lips were moving. The same words, over and over. She leaned in closer, barely able to hear him over the noise of the rain.
“Velo-ci-raptor…lo-sa-raptor….lo-sa-raptor...”
“Shit, we gotta get him to stop saying that.” Regis had crept closer and was shaking his head, talking partly to himself. “Say it was a construction accident, maybe a backhoe. Yeah, that’ll work…”
“Shut the Hell up, Ed!” Kathy, normally polite even under pressure, was on her last nerve, grappling with the stretcher wobbling dangerously over her shoulder. “Make yourself useful!”
”There’s nothing more I can do.” Harding admitted defeat, slumping backwards. “I don’t have the kit. He needs a doctor.”
”Aren’t you going with him?” It was more of a request than anything. Lizzy hated the thought of Rico abandoned in the cold metal shell of the make-do air ambulance by those who knew him best.
The veterinarian looked through her, without really seeing her, helpless. “Honestly, it won’t make much difference now.”
Lizzy decided in a split second. “Then I’m going with him.”
”But Lizzy, you’re scared of flying-“ Kathy tried to reason, turning to Muldoon. “Stop her!”
Aviophobia forgotten, Lizzy was about to follow her wounded colleague into the helicopter when Regis laid a hand on her arm. She recoiled at his touch.
“I’ll take it from here, Liz.”
“He wants his mother, it’s the least I can do!” She snapped. “I’m going with him.”
“Not looking like that, you’re not. That’s gonna raise some eyebrows.” He cast a scornful eye over her ruined dress.
“Ed-“ Lizzy set her jaw and scowled at him.
“Liz-“ He mocked her. “-it’s my job to handle any dealings with the mainland. They’re gonna want to know how this happened-“
“And you’re going to lie!” She lost her temper and screamed at him.
“I have to!” Regis reached breaking point, roaring back. “You can’t lie for shit, Armstrong, so stay here!”
“There’s gonna be two casualties in a minute if you don’t let me on that damn chopper-“
“Are you threatening me right now, seriously?!” Regis looked past her to the crew standing on the ground, searching for someone to back him up. “Robert, call off your damn dog!”
“Fuck you, Ed.” Lizzy said with as much venom as she could muster.
Rico cried out weakly from his position on the stretcher. ”Lizzy get back here, please!” It was Kathy alone who was begging for her to come back.
“You don’t wanna do this.” Regis reiterated, and then the line that really got to her. “Think of him. You’re wasting precious time.”
Lizzy was still firmly grasping the safety rail of the helicopter. She and Regis, locked in a standoff, glaring at each other as the pilot yelled angrily while the blades sped up again.
For a second Regis believed she might launch herself into the body of the chopper anyway, weight limit be damned.
With a last, haunted look at wounded Rico lying prone and bloody, Lizzy backed off, stumbling away from the helicopter.
Regis slipped on a pair of headphones and spoke into the mouthpiece to the pilot. “We’re set, let’s roll!”
Seconds later, they were already clear of the tree-line.
Lizzy stomped back to the rest of her colleagues, soaked to the skin, hair slicked down flat against her scalp, and got into Muldoon’s Jeep without a word.
She sat, shivering and silent for an untold amount of time, fogging the windows up from how drenched she was while the rest of her team regrouped. The driver’s door clicked open, startling her.
“Here, you’ll catch your bloody death.” Muldoon passed her a blanket, pressing it into her hands before she had even registered it was him.
“T-thank y-you.” Lizzy’s teeth chattered, her knees knocking together as she took it from him, barely managing to cover herself. Still barefoot, her feet up to her mid-calves were caked in mud an inch thick.
“I’m s-so sorry, I’ve m-made a mess of your c-car.” Lizzy smiled maniacally from frayed nerves, focusing on something trivial to mask the pain.
”Wants hosing down, anyway.” Muldoon brushed her concerns off. “As do you.”
The other door clicked and Kathy slid into the back beside Lizzy, reaching over and tucking the blanket in where she hadn’t managed.
”I s-should be in that h-heli-he-h-“ She couldn’t manage. “D-Dammit. Up t-there.” Lizzy could barely hear her own voice over the air-con blasting.
“Lizzy, honey, he didn’t know who you were anymore-“ Kathy gently tried to reassure her.
”T-That’s not the damn p-point.” Lizzy nearly yelled, then checked herself. “It m-matters to me.”
Kathy didn’t know what else to say that would help, she seemed to be only making her friend more emotional.
“You did everything you possibly could, Armstrong, short of performing surgery.” Muldoon spoke up quietly from the driver’s seat. “Above and beyond.”
He seemed to get it right. Lizzy sniffed loudly and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, quietening down. “I t-tried. I r-really tried to f-follow.”
“I know. But I don’t want you up in that.” he pointed at the helicopter, then gestured out at grey sheets of rain still hammering down. “They’ll be lucky if they make it to Bahía Anasco in this, never mind over the mountains.”
“Son-of-a-bitch.” Lizzy was numb, freezing cold aside from the hot tears now spilling unchecked down her cheeks.
“How far is Bahía Anasco from San José?” Kathy asked quietly.
“About a hundred miles.” Muldoon answered her. “There’s a headwind.”
He was telling them in fewer words it may as well be a thousand miles. Rico was running out of time. The choice was between the fishing village with the small, understaffed clinic, or nothing.
“Gosh, this is awful.” Kathy breathed. “We need to call his folks, don’t we?”
“In the morning.” Muldoon replied sullenly. “After Regis gets back. I’ll see to it that he’s the one to tell them, since he wants to be so involved.”
“No.” Lizzy fiercely insisted. “I’ll do it. I owe him that much.”
Kathy nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have an update of how long he’s gonna be in the hospital. God, I hope he’s gonna be alright, he sounded so scared.”
Muldoon glanced at her sharply. His Team Leader could still be so naïve. To him it was obvious.
As they watched the helicopter ascend into the low clouds and finally disappear from view around the far side of the island, Muldoon wondered if Armstrong was prepared to inform the boy’s family their son had been killed. Or if, like Baker, she still believed he had a hope in Hell.
He already knew. There was no way the boy was coming back from the mainland.
Not alive, at any rate.
***
Thanks for reading!
So. Rico is the poor kid who ended up vomiting blood on Bobbie Carter and Manuel’s table in Bahía Anasco. Aaaand we’re now in line with the events of the beginning of the Jurassic Park novel. Christ, I need a lie down.
Assume that from now on, no-one is safe.
#jurassic park oc#living dangerously#welcome to jurassic park#oc: dr lizzy armstrong#jurassic park female oc#jurassic park#jurassic park fanfiction#my writing#jurassic park ocs#jurassic park novel#jurassic park fanfic#jurassic park fic#robert muldoon x female oc#robert muldoon#gerry harding#ray arnold#ed regis
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pod thoughts/quotes
I swear this took me least two hours to actually watch fully from start/stopping for quotes and going back for context and then I had to pause for a few minutes while I made dinner. But that was incredibly cathartic, I must say. I feel like I’ll be ready to do a deeper dive on the podcast in the coming days but for now here are my thoughts as I watched.
07:30, re: “Whoever you want me to be” it’s interesting that Mischa says they shot her lines so many different ways to establish tone. As if Marissa really is so into her role as lead deb/social chair/etc when Sandy mentions the fashion show. Rereading the pilot script, I can see where this was changed in the direction once it came to shooting it.
16:42, “The thing about the sports or something” made me LAUGH re: hiatus because of baseball in 2003
@ ferris wheel scene, do they know this show is avail in hd? 🥴👀
24:15, re: 2x01 lawn chair scene “I was so frustrated with some of the character writing and not knowing how to play it at that point” omg “Didn’t know what to do with some of the writing”
What kind of vapid ppl are listening to this drivel if this scene was their #1
31:57, Mischa didn’t know there was an SNL skit based off Marissa shooting Trey. IF ONLY I WERE SO LUCKY
33:28, I swear to christ 😭 Mischa has no recollection of Marissa’s various traumas (re: almost r*pe). And I don’t blame her for this, I think she had to keep this show out of sight out of mind for so so long for her own sake, but I hope being reminded of these things will help her perception of Marissa as more than a strung out angsty teen with poor decision making. She seemed so shook being reminded by Melinda that Marissa was sexually assaulted.
35:40, MB seems to be saying something else behind her expression about shooting on the Mount St. Mary’s campus for 3x24. What do we think she meant by this? Just that she was uncomfortable being paraded around in that skimpy school uniform? Or something else? This location doubled for Harbor, right? She also acknowledged feeling uncomfortable in the explicit Volchok scenes.
37:54, 3x25 model home pool scene, “Oh my god her tattoo, I can’t” I really thought this was Mischa’s tattoo they wrote into the script! I’m truly surprised they even cared about continuity at this point.
38:33, same pool scene “It’s nice when you have days where you can just, like, do stuff that’s not quite so heavy” and Mischa/Marissa deserved this so much more!!!!
44:25, they’re watching the d**th scene, and I have always thought Mischa’s arms look so weird just dropped back like that. It’s probably more realistic than if they were tucked in, but it’s always taken me out of the scene
I haven’t seen this scene in years. literally
I’m tearing up but only a little. It’s too melodramatic for me this time. I know what I’m supposed to feel but it seems so detached from reality that I can easily act like Marissa survives this. There’s almost 40 min left of this pod ep what are they gonna talk about
ok going back real quick i’m supposed to believe this happened to Ryan RIGHT IN HIS LAP AND HE’S CAREFREE AND DATES SOMEONE ELSE NOT EVEN A FEW MONTHS LATER? LMFAO PLS THIS BOY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO EVEN SPEAK FOR LIKE A YEAR IF THIS RLY HAPPENED
“This is the culmination of their whole love story, it is” okay wait 🥺
“I don’t wanna see the part where he gets all emotional, I’m done now” real
49:31, Melinda: “Truth be told, there was a huuuuuge part of the audience that tuned in just for Marissa and the ratings did go down in season 4 because you weren’t there. I’m just putting that out there.” *elmo fire gif* 🫡
55:40, 1x10 Missoni dress “They got the dress and I was obsessed, like ‘she has to wear this dress.’ It’s beautiful, like my dream dress at the time. That’s the way I felt about it. It’s all sparkly in person and just very Missoni. You know, after the fact, I became quite good friends with the family but this was like my first introduction to a Missoni piece and I was like ‘Oh my god I’m obsessed with this dress’ to the point where I begged them. This was like one of the first things they let me wear off set and it was my first date dress with, like, one of my ex-boyfriends. I was so excited I got to wear it out. It was special. So that dress has a special place in my heart, that’s for sure.”
1:01:40, fan question, “What do you think is the biggest misconception about Marissa? What’s the one thing that you just wish people would understand about her?”
“That she’s a caring– a very sensitive person. That’s the main thing about her, she’s just this sensitive and– that she wants to care for people and help them. she has a big heart like that.” 🥹
1:05:36 “Originally, they wanted her to be more like Legally Blonde.”
Melinda, “Like bubbly?”
Mischa’s fucking face here lmao
1:06:00, to find Marissa’s character “They had me watch Kate Hudson in Almost Famous again and again, certain scenes.” Why is this actually making sense to me ljkhgf
1:07:04, Marissa at the party post-fashion show in the pilot was filmed many different ways drunk, “I remember I was asked to play that every way to Sunday. ‘Like now she should be fall down drunk, like she’s stumbling through the party’ and then there were takes where I was, like, completely composed. A little bit slurring my words. That was all find it as you go.”
1:08:10, “A lot of opposing types of direction” re: doug, mcg, josh
1:09:36, “Remember when they started shooting two episodes at a time and they would just hand me pages–I don’t know if you guys had as much of this– But they would be like ‘this is gonna be probably in the next episode and since we’re on this set we’re gonna give this scene a go so here’s a couple pages from what’s probably gonna happen’ and I’d be like ‘this is wild! what have you written for the next episode?’ You'd read it and be like ‘holy shit where are we going with this?’ so I remember a lot of that.” She mentioned this in the E! interview but hearing it again is super interesting.
1:10:27, fan question, “I wanted to ask you if there are any storylines you would’ve wanted to see more of for Marissa or if there’s anything you would’ve liked to have seen of Marissa explored.”
“Yeah, I feel like definitely the Alex storyline is what jumps to mind. I feel like that could’ve been explored more. Also there’s not a lot of her and her sister, really. You know? That could’ve been explored more.”
1:11:39, mentioning that the Alex storyline really was ‘her thing’ ie. something I’ve said in the past. The Alex storyline was the only one that was ever Marissa’s alone.
1:12:26, fan submission “Marissa was my favorite character. One of my favorite moments of her was midway through season 2 when Marissa shows up to the Cohen house with bagels and they take her in and comfort her.” real!!!! theeee sweetest scene of all time
1:17:20, Tacking on that fan question at the end about Marissa and mental health. Mischa has such an eloquent answer and to answer my own question from above I feel like this may change the discourse with which MB speaks about the character. At least I hope so. Love that caller for sending it in and honestly the pod for including it.
“Obviously she suffers from depression and anxiety and all sorts of things. That’s what I was saying about the overdose scene. I do not remember what we think she’s on or what we really think her biggest problem is. Ultimately it’s rooted in mental wellness, isn’t it? I mean, so much of anything is. Any kind of addiction, it’s not really about just one thing or vice that she has. It’s about being at that age and being so overwhelmed about the world around you and not really feeling like she had the tools to cope.”
MC: “The episode is called ‘The Escape’. So she’s escaping that pain that she’s living through that the parents are oblivious to.”
MB: “Right. There’s nobody. There’s never, like, a counselor there or a teacher there. It does feel like she’s always grasping in different directions. It’s not properly defined and I think, maybe in today’s terms, we would handle that differently. But I definitely think that she’s going through all of it and searching for herself.”
Whew, you guys. I need to decompress.
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我在 2022 发布了 502 次
比 2021 502 more posts!
创建了 60 个帖子(12%)
转发了 442 个帖子(88%)
我转发最多的博客是:
@anika-ann
@onsunnyside
@rogerswifesblog
@ronearoundblindly
@oh-my-damn
我在 2022 给我的 330 个帖子加了标签
我的帖子只有 34% 没有标签
#jnmreads - 150 个帖子
#jnmrambles - 75 个帖子
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#ari levinson smut - 25 个帖子
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Longest Tag: 88 character
#but i'd like to see some witty comebacks or replies from neil other than about goncharov
我在 2022 的最热帖子:
#5
Shower
Steve Rogers x You (Reader)
Warning: Swearing
College AU, Friends to Lovers, Pure Fluff
Summary: You want, no, need to shower, while waiting for Steve, your best friend.
One peek out of the window, and you squint because of the blazing sun. You have never experienced a scorching summer before, but apparently this year someone or something definitely launched ten sun-beam amplifiers to melt down the entire city. You have lived in this damn city for about two dozen years, yet this seems to be the hottest day in your life, if not tomorrow.
Not seeing a living soul by that peek, you decide to turn on the fan and wait.
You are waiting for Steve Fucking Rogers, that little shit that promised to come and fetch some homemade bakery fifteen minutes ago (as per his mother, Sarah’s request and his personal guarantee). And you were supposed to jump in a quick shower ten minutes ago.
Your house, like any other house on this street, didn’t install an air conditioner, which means you have to open all windows to cool down in the summer.
How very convenient that heat waves are blasting into your house, especially today. You are feeling icky and sticky, and above all, grumpy. Mom’s not home, that’s why you can’t jump into the shower right this moment since Steve’s coming over any second now.
HE PROMISED TO COME FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO!!!
And you are still waiting.
Steve Rogers may be your best male friend. Hell, he and Bucky both. But you are sure that you will rip both their heads off if any one of them stands in the way between you and your shower.
God, you really need that shower.
You turn the fan to the highest setting, only to frustratingly find the air slightly cooler than before. Just slightly.
Droplets of sweat dampen your forehead, some gather by your neckline. You tie your hair up as much as possible to prevent more sweat trickling down your spine - which it already is and soaking your oversized T-shirt. You didn’t even bother with a pair of shorts (damn weather) and go with your panties. You know that sweat is accumulating between your thighs and shorts would only worsen the situation.
For Christ’s sake, Steve lives fucking next door, how long will it fucking take for him to crawl under the sun and get here? You grumble under your breath and head to the kitchen for a popsicle.
Your mom and you share the same kind of sweet tooth, so you easily find the popsicle stash she prepared for this summer from the fridge. As you pop it in your mouth and half-minded wipe your wet hand on the kitchen cloth, a series of loud and impatient knocks come from the front door.
“Coming!” You yell, groaning at the sweet and icy touch that left your tongue.
You rush to the door and open it. Standing there is none other than Steve Fucking Rogers, freshly showered (duh, you can tell, or why else is his hair smell like fresh shampoo), wearing a vest and a pair of shorts.
Jerk.
“Hey, I’m here for the ... uh, bakery.” Steve scratches the back of his head.
You roll your eyes at him: "Hi Steve, nice to meet you too.” Even so, you lean against the door frame to let him in. He might be a jerk, but he doesn’t have to wait outside as a punishment. Speaking of the devil himself may have come to New York and burned it with hellfire. ‘Cause that’s the temperature outside.
Steve let out a big smile, smacking a kiss on your forehead before going in: ”Thanks, you’re the best.”
You close the door behind him and gesture your hand towards the bakery. Your other hand is busy shoving the popsicle back into your mouth.
“I thought your mom was here.” He throws himself on the couch, enjoying most of the fan, “She not around?”
You hum and shake your head. The iced pieces make it hard to speak, so you point to the door briefly: “She Out. Why?”
“Nothin’.” He muttered. His eyes light up on seeing you with that popsicle.
“Why staring?” You pronounce the two words with some difficulty.
He blinks, and then: ”Can I have one?”
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157 条热度——发布于 2022年10月23日
#4
Mr. & Mrs. Levinson
Ari Levinson x Original Female Character (Anna)
Warning: Angst and Smut, Eventual Smut, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Domestic Violence (sort of), Cursing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex.
A fusion of Mr. & Mrs. Smith.
Word count: 11k.
Summary: Being enemies saved their marriage.
3 p.m.
"How long have you been married?"
"Six years." "Seven years." They said at the same time, not forgetting to glance at each other when they heard the other's answer.
"Six or seven years." Ari chose what he thought was a compromising answer and cleared his throat, "Actually, we've been married for so long that this is just a routine checkup, you know? Similar to changing the oil, parts, or whatever for an airplane."
The marriage therapist kept his unchanging smile, gazing at the man as strong as a bear - and as hairy as a bear - and the petite woman beside him, "Sure, so let's pop the hood." He flipped open the notepad for his records and wrote something on it, "Let's start with the basics. How would you rate your marriage on a scale of one to ten?"
"Eight." "Uh, is ten is the highest score or...?"
Ari frowned and looked at his wife, who had been with him for six or seven years, sitting by his side: "He said one to ten, honey."
Anna leaned unhurriedly on the couch pillows, the very direction away from Ari: "I was just making sure. Don’t want to give the wrong answer, sweetheart."
The therapist cap the pen and snapped both of them back to attention, "That's okay, let's try again. Ten is the highest score. Are you ready? Three, two, one..."
"Eight." They both answered in unison.
"How is your sex life?" The therapist asked the next question.
Anna rubbed her fingers at the tip of her curly hair and paused for a moment upon hearing the question, "I'm sorry, is this a one to ten question or...?"
The therapist explained, "Just this week, how is your sex life? Oh, and feel free to rate it or just say how you feel about it."
Ari and Anna were uncharacteristically silent.
"Including weekends?" Ari asked, his furrowed brow not loosening.
"Including weekends."
Anna nodded thoughtfully.
They didn’t have sex this week. Neither did they last week. Nor did the week before.
How is one supposed to rate something non-existent?
She tried to remember the last time they'd had sex, which was about a month ago, and they'd both been drinking a little. She remembered they stopped midway. Why did they stop midway?
She remembered that she had gone to the training room to practice boxing before that and accidentally bruised her rear end. She asked him to turn off the lights in between kisses, and he thought it was no big deal, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked. In the end, a simple question of turning off the lights made them break up the kiss and lose the passion to continue.
Ari always ripped orgasms after orgasms from her. It was all about passion and crude rough sex and it was fun.
It was.
Until the passion faded. And he lost his interest over a little question whether to turn off the lights.
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161 条热度——发布于 2022年10月22日
#3
Overstimulation Drabble
Ari Levinson x Original Female Character (She), from Bodyguard AU
Warning: MINORS DNI, rough sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, pussy slapping, dummification, pet names (princess, kitten, baby, etc.), DD/LG vibe, Light dom/sub. Did I say bondage(?
Word count:~600
“You know what I think?” Ari slapped his dick on her puffy folds, eliciting a moan from her mouth, “I think you parade around all day, bossing everyone around, saying you don’t like being told what to do.” His cock poked at her entrance, sinking inch by inch. She withered under his touch, but his large hands on her thighs put her firmly in place.
“I think you like the exact opposite.” Ari finished his sentence with a dark grin, his heavy organ fully seated in her snuggling heat.
She pulled her wrists, too bad unsuccessful, as they were being tied to the headboard. The complicated knot showed no sign of loosening. “Can’t – not again.” She choked, teary eyes losing focus as pleasure took over her body.
Ari withdrew his dick slowly, savoring every second of her tight pussy. His hands an iron grip on her thighs, when he suddenly forced one of her ankles on his shoulders.
His dick twitched in excitement.
“I think you like exactly being told what to do.”
Oh he was far from done with her.
A hard thrust had her screaming out. Her voice broken and hoarse, her breath ragged. Her pussy so sensitive, it couldn’t take any more assault. But her body betrayed her. Her body clenching down on him like he was home. Her body cried out to him. Her body wanting to be claimed.
“Princess, by the time I’m done with you, you will be cumming so many times that your pretty pussy learns to follow orders.” Ari bottomed out. The new position had him hitting different spots in her channel. His hand lands repetitively on her throbbing clit, slapping her sensitive folds, each smack rubbing more juice on his palm.
She screamed. She struggled. She arched her waist from his ruthless abuse.
“Too much.” She whimpered, head striking the pillows underneath when her words earned her another slap.
Ari fiddled with her swollen button, keeping his thrusting at a slow and steady pace, the tip kissing her cervix each time.
Her clit was numb. When she couldn’t recognize his toying with her clit, she would receive a slap, waking her bundle of nerve, when she would cry out. Her clit was sensitive, even a single touch felt like fire. Fire swallowed her senses, fire burned through her skin, fire squeezing her abdomen. She was cumming again.
Ari laughed cruelly, speeding up his thrusts, driving her to the edge. His smacks and toying never stopped. She wanted to close her legs, she wanted to end the painful orgasm. She wanted him to leave her spent body alone. But all she could manage was a pathetic little mewl.
“C’mon kitten, haven’t told you to cum.” He tutted, as if she was disappointing him, “hold back till Daddy tells you to, hmm?”
She shook her head lightly. She couldn’t. Her body was no longer her own. He controlled it. He controlled her.
Ari wasn’t pleased. Not the slightest.
He sighed.
He sheathed himself inside her pussy again, kissing her calf and knee. His beard scratched her skin, but she didn’t notice that anymore. “Fucked dumb already? Stupid baby doesn’t say no to Daddy, 'kay? Guess we have to train on that the next time.” His voice dripped with affection and softness, as he pulled himself close to kiss her on the lips, “good job cumming. Now, Daddy will train you to cum again. This time, slutty baby has to follow orders. Or Daddy has to make you cum a couple more times to remember?”
171 条热度——发布于 2022年11月22日
#2
The Banquet
Chris Evans x You (Reader)
Warning: Smut, 18+, Semi-public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sex in Bathroom
Summary:
Banquets are always boring. You are certain of it. However, your boyfriend sitting next to you certainly makes things better. For today, you have some soup for appetizer, salmon for main course, and a quickie in the bathroom for fun.
Banquets are always boring. You are certain of it.
Certain of the fact that people would go to great lengths – neither eating nor drinking – so that their pictures won’t be hideous. Certain of the fact that the food never suiting your taste. Certain of the fact that they always exchange fake smiles, fake laughs, and fake sincerity while making a toast.
However, your boyfriend sitting next to you certainly makes things better.
Chris would shield you from cameras, secretly share his opinions regarding food, and provide you with little escapades to divert your attention.
Well, escapade might have been a strong word. But you will still call them escapades when he finds a dark corner to fuck you real quick.
For today, you have some soup for appetizer, salmon for main course, and a quickie in the bathroom for fun.
You were waiting for dessert when Chris drew a cross on your thigh, meaning you are going to excuse yourself from the table and he will catch up in a minute.
Bathroom. That’s where you are going. You went to the bathroom right before the banquet began. Not only is it a ten-minute walk away from the tables, but also it is hidden in a corner between halls, making your appearances in the same bathroom less detectable. A bonus point being there’s no camera pointing at the bathroom.
You are about to step into the lady’s room when a faint scent of your favorite cologne hits your nose. A solid chest crushes your shoulder.
“Sorry, but I think you are heading the wrong way.” The familiar voice whispers by your ear, and you almost laugh because your favorite person sneaks an arm around your waist. Chris Evans, THE Captain America, plans to fuck you in the bathroom. The media will go nuts trying to get their hands on this piece of dirt.
You almost purr at his words, turning your most seductive voice on, “but Sir, I’m waiting for my boyfriend. Have you met him?” You turn to meet his blue eyes with a speck of green in them, “he’s six foot tall,” your hand traces his arm and shoulder, feeling his muscles flex under your touch, and stopping at the base of his neck, “has a glorious beard,” you pull yourself close, nearly whispering the final sentence, “and awfully hot.”
The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. He dips his head to steal a kiss from you.
“Glorious, huh? I thought you like me clean-shaven.” Chris mutters within an inch of your lips, “wait here for me will ya?”
He takes a second to stride inside the male’s room. Luckily, there’s no one inside. Chris grabs you by your wrist and you stumble into a stall with the door closed behind you.
“This dress is a fuckin’ tease.” He growls, pressing wet hot kisses on the thin line above your breasts. “Wanna fuck you since I saw you.”
You let out a breathy moan in response. You have been doing quickies way too many times than you should, and he knows exactly how to turn you on.
He bends you over, your back arching, grinding on his hard erection.
“Can’t wait.” You whisper.
Your blue dress splits mid-thigh, giving him the perfect opportunity to finger your pussy. You know right that second that he’s going to be awe-struck by something he totally didn’t expect: what you put under your dress.
“Fuck.” He hisses by your ear, “A thong?”
In your defense, you have to. Otherwise, the tight dress will display your pantie line, and that is not some view you want others to see. But you are smart enough to rile him up just a little bit more.
“Thought it’d be convenient for you to fu-” Your sentence is cut off, as he shoves two fingers between your pussy lips and strums your clit in a fast and painful rhythm. He did not bother to take off your thong, only snapping the string – let’s face it, that thing between your thighs is quite literally a string – to the side. You simply cannot speak; your voice contorts into an audible moan. Your core tightens, threatening to snap at any second. Your poor bundle of nerves is set on fire with his skilled fingers. He toys you without mercy, and palms your ass with his other hand, spanking you till you’re red and sore.
The bathroom door flings open. Sounds of leather shoes clacking come rustling in. If you are clear-headed, you can make out two men come to use the bathroom. But you are knee-deep in pleasure and pain that you missed the sound other than your blood soaring through your ears.
“We’ve got company, babe.” Chris pulls down his zipper, his bulbous head teasing your soaking entrance. He puffs out a hot breath, his beard cutting into your sensitive skin, “better be quiet.”
One hand resting on your belly, the other holding on to your waist, Chris slams you back onto his painfully hard dick.
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277 条热度——发布于 2022年10月21日
我的 #1 关于 2022 的帖子
You Had Me Before Hello
Ari Levinson x You / Reader
Warning: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Alternate Universe - College / University, Age Difference, Size Difference, Swearing, Public Sex, Beards (Facial Hair), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, degradation if you squint, Pussy Spanking, Light Dom/sub tones, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Ari Levinson is being Meanie
Word count: 4k + Bonus~600
Summary: You are a new student on campus, and you meet a handsome librarian.
It is your first day as a freshman.
In a university. In a foreign country, no less.
You settled in your dormitory yesterday at noon, and you received notice this morning that you need a colored copy of your passport to register for your semester today.
You had your copies of your passport, yes, but all in black and white, instead of the colored version.
You had to rush to the Main Library, which, by the way, is twenty minutes away from your place of residence, and hopefully make it in time for your registration appointment with the student center.
Making sense of the signs in a foreign language is hard enough, you groan more when you actually step inside the main library.
People. Everywhere. A lot of them. Chatting or questioning or answering.
Some of them wearing bright color T-shirts, stating that they are volunteers or staff of the library, helping freshmen. As far as you can see, all of them are occupied with freshmen.
Plural.
Like, at least three or four students surrounding one staff or one volunteer.
You bite your lip and observe the first floor, not wanting to bother them.
Lucky enough for you, the library doesn’t require a student card (another card you need to collect when registering for your semester, God knows how many cards and papers have traveled to your hand within less than 24 hours) to get in. You slip through the crowd quietly, noticing the bold letters in a far corner of the first floor that say PRINTING, not in English, of course, but you know that word.
It is a little relief that the printing corner is less crowded. You huff out a breath, reading the instruction to printing that is taped to the wall.
You chew on your lip anxiously when you try to understand the instructions in the local language. To be fairly honest, you regret instantly not attending a university in your home country.
Where you can read and understand fucking printing instructions.
You don’t want a helping hand. You don’t need a helping hand. You are perfectly fine working out your shit in the last few years of your life. And you have to choose a foreign land to continue your studies.
Fucking brilliant.
You turn your head, sighing that you need someone to help you after all.
All of them seem so busy, either talking to another person that you really don’t want to interrupt, or managing their own business on their laptops and phones.
Except for one man.
He isn’t looking at his phone, his laptop, or any electronic devices. He holds his arm, with biceps big enough to strangle an ox. Or maybe three. At once. The man has a scruffy beard and slightly long hair like a lumberjack. He is also incredibly tall like a lumberjack, possibly 6ft8 or 6ft9. He wears a crappy purple T-shirt, meaning that he is also one of the staff.
You walk up to him carefully, mentally prepare yourself for an upcoming conversation, and inhale deeply to calm your nerves.
His freaking musky and woody cologne does NOT help.
In fact, it nearly melts your knees and have you trip on yourself right in front of him.
He is so frigging tall; you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.
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570 条热度——发布于 2022年11月10日
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The other woman
Part 1
A/N: this is a Karl x Tom/ Karl x Ann fiction, all are based off teachers at my school and is completely satire 😭 Not proof read!
Kissing, angst, cheating, internalised homophobia, crying, age-gap (Karl is in his 60s and Tom is in his late 30s), drama, lmk if theres anything i missed
It was a mistake. The kiss was a mistake. Karl felt so conflicted with his feelings, but one thing he knew is that it was a mistake. He and Ann had been having a secret relationship for almost a year now, and everything was going great! i mean imagine working as a teacher in the same building as your partner who is also a teacher? sounds great, right? it isn’t, it was, but not anymore.
When Karl first met Tom everything seemed 100% platonic, they were just friends! not only that, but they were both men! and had a rather big age gap. But then a few weeks ago, Tom started being more touchy. Karl ignored it at first, thinking it was just Tom getting more comfortable around him, like they were becoming better friends even though Karl knew Tom was gay and had a thing for older men, but then the small comments happened, small compliments about his hair or how strong he was and even sometimes Tommy would be full on flirting with him! Karl knew he should’ve just ignored him, he was with Ann for christ’s sake! but that didn’t seem to stop Tommy from kissing him in his office, didn’t stop Ann from walking in either.
At first, neither Karl or Tom noticed Ann walking in and standing in the door way. “no, we shouldn’t.” Karl said, pulling away from the kiss. “Come on, i’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me… i know you like me too” Tom replied with confidence. “No, i’m with Ann!” Karl said. “Yeah but when you’re with her you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” Tom replied, getting all smug. “We’re both men! we shouldn’t be together… i’ve never even thought about being with another man before i met you!” Karl said, oblivious to his girlfriend listening to everything he was saying. “so you admit you think of me that way?” Tom said with a smirk. “No i-“ Karl sighed, stressed and tired from work and whatever the hell was going on now. “just- just leave me alone for now.. i need some space to think about this” Karl said, turning towards the door only to see his girlfriend standing there with tears in her eyes. “A-Ann…?” he whispered softly before getting interrupted by Ann turning around and smelling the door closed.
She wanted to cry, all she wanted to do was cry. She opened the bathroom door and started at herself in the mirror. Tom? really? why did he have to cheat on her and why did it have to be Tom? he promised he wouldn’t do anything like this, let alone with her co-worker who she’d even call her friend! Well at least before, they were definitely not friends now. She had to pull herself together, she had a class to teach soon so crying wasn’t really an option.
Wiping away her tears with toilet paper she opened up the bathroom door and walked over to her classroom. She was teaching two classes today at once as they both were learning the same thing and the other classes teacher wasn’t available to teach at the moment. She braised herself before entering the classroom, hearing all the kids go quiet and stand up from their seats, greeting her. She starter talking about god knows what and told them to work at skole studio so she wouldn’t have to talk in front of them anymore, afraid of having a break down knowing that if she did the person she’d have to talk to would be Tom considering its part of his job.
She couldn’t think straight but was taken out of her thoughts from two students in front if her, Amaris and Max. “Ann, my chrome book won’t work so i can’t exactly work at skole studio, could you take it down to Tom for me?” Amaris asked, Max besides her as emotional support or something, Ann could care less at the moment. “Yeah of course, ill be right back you and Max can just share their chrome book until i figure out a solution with.. Tom” She said, her demeanour changing at the thought of talking to Tom after what she just saw. “Okie, thanks” They both said as they walked away. Ann got Amaris’s chrome book and got up, quickly mentioning that Max was in control of making sure the class was quiet and if anyone messed around they would have their name written down before walking out of the classroom, closing the door behind her.
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MAY 3, 2024
Imitators
Joy Margetts (Wales, United Kingdom)
"Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." - Ephesians 5:1-2 (NRSVUE)
"A few weeks ago my daughter returned to work after the birth of her baby, and I started my new job: caring for my grandson. It’s only one day a week and leaves me physically exhausted, but I’m loving it. My grandson is not yet verbal or mobile, but he is alert and always learning. He watches, listens, and imitates. He smiles when I smile, and he tries to clap when I clap.
Children learn so much by imitation. Even as adults, we can easily begin speaking, behaving, and thinking like the people we associate with most. Spending time with people who speak and act in encouraging and edifying ways will help us to speak and act in similar ways.
Likewise, if we want to imitate Christ in our speech, actions, and attitudes, we need to spend time with him. We can do this by learning about his life through the Gospels, by sitting quietly in his presence, or by talking to him in prayer. Doing so is good for us and the people who spend time with us. The more we imitate Christ, the better examples we will be for others." Remain in the presence of Jesus and learn everything you can from Him. He is your best example for word choices, possible next steps and an optimistic attitude. Stay on His radar and learn everything you can.
TODAY'S PRAYER
"Thank you, Jesus, for living out an example of how to glorify God. Help us to imitate you in all things as we spend time with you and better learn your ways." Amen.
1 Corinthians 10:23-33
"23 Everything is permitted, but everything isn’t beneficial. Everything is permitted, but everything doesn’t build others up. 24 No one should look out for their own advantage, but they should look out for each other. 25 Eat everything that is sold in the marketplace, without asking questions about it because of your conscience. 26 The earth and all that is in it belong to the Lord. 27 If an unbeliever invites you to eat with them and you want to go, eat whatever is served, without asking questions because of your conscience. 28 But if someone says to you, “This meat was sacrificed in a temple,” then don’t eat it for the sake of the one who told you and for the sake of conscience. 29 Now when I say “conscience” I don’t mean yours but the other person’s. Why should my freedom be judged by someone else’s conscience? 30 If I participate with gratitude, why should I be blamed for food I thank God for? 31 So, whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, you should do it all for God’s glory. 32 Don’t offend either Jews or Greeks, or God’s church. 33 This is the same thing that I do. I please everyone in everything I do. I don’t look out for my own advantage, but I look out for many people so that they can be saved. 1 Corinthians 11:1 1 Follow my example, just like I follow Christ’s. Follow the guidelines of lifting others up. Do not bring conflict between you and someone who does not believe exactly as you do. Everything you do should glorify your God and not offend anyone. Let Christ always be your example. You cannot go wrong. Blessings abound, make sure to get your share. Joe
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Hey! Just something i wanted to seek advice about… there this guy i like, and i feel its not a good idea to fall for this guy, not because he’s bad or smt, he is very smart and a good person but he is older than me, a little bit too old maybe? I’m 21 he probably in his early 30’s and I’m doing an internship where he works, he’s not the boss but very important to the place. I just started this internship and i cant quit because its allotted to me by our professors in uni. So I’m pretty much stuck till 1st week of December🤦🏻♀️ He’s also someone I report to and literally stop functioning when i see him. Even when i say “good morning”, dude its not even audible to ants for Christ sake🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️ No guy, i mean literally no one has made me feel this way🤦🏻♀️ how the hell will i survive the next 2 months… -intern anon
Hey there, lovely!
Wow, this is my first "life advice" question. I'm by no means a relationship expert, but since I'm a bit older than you (27), maybe I can help you out here.
First of all, congrats on getting an internship through your school! This sounds like a great opportunity. And this is your time to be a sponge, learning as much as you can and getting as much experience as you can in your desired field before you leave the threshold of university/college, and head into the working world.
Now, I won't say too much about the age gap, only because you're over 18 and you can do whatever you want with anyone you want...
However, I do have thoughts about the work dynamic. This man is your superior (as in, you report to him for work). You're just getting started in your career.
The balance of power is inherently unequal here. Even if he makes advances toward you, if I was in your shoes, I would professionally shut it down.
(Or let him know that you want to focus on the work for now, and if he's still interested after your internship is done, then you'll give him your number. I wouldn't give him your number before that point, even if he asks. Keep your work channels at work: through email, Slack, Skype, Microsoft Teams, what have you.)
Why? Because while he may seem charming, attractive, nice, etc., unfortunately, you never know someone's true intentions. The work/romance boundaries could blur very quickly.
And in this situation, he holds all the cards: he's more established in the company, he has authority over you in the workplace, he's probably more experienced in corporate bullshit, he's much older than you, (and he's a man 🙃).
Were the relationship to be exposed (I'm not sure what dating policies are at this company), he could even use that power to cover his own ass and throw you under the bus. Or, I hate to say it, even to try and manipulate you.
As I said, if I was in your shoes, I would take this internship opportunity to learn as much as I can about my desired career! Be friendly, but professional with this guy. Count to ten in your mind when you see him. Call him a "basic bitch" in your head. Whatever you need to do to just treat him like you'd treat anyone else. 😂
And if he hits you up after the internship is done in December, feel free to let him buy you dinner. 😘
(Thus ends my unlicensed dating advice. ❤️❤️)
#ask me stuff#I hope this helps hun!#relationship advice#internships and work babes#real life stuff#zepskies answers
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