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jjmaybanksbaby · 4 years ago

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Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 01: Pick Me Up, No Headlights

series masterlist | next part

summary: It’s your first summer in the Outer Banks.

a/n: I'm so so so excited to introduce my new obx series! This whole thing is based off the song Style by Taylor Swift (which I'm sure you've picked up on lol!) This series is going to be about Rafe during HS so Summer I = the summer before 9th grade and so on and so forth. Enjoy!!

word count: 2k

The Outer Banks was a little bit like a fantasy. The way your mom talked about growing up under the North Carolina heat with her fearless twin brother, Austin, the decades-long feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, the endless summers, it all felt like a movie. There was a specific smile that snuck onto her face when she talked about the place. Their parents had moved away from OBX to the mountains while she was still in college and she’d never been back. Last September, her father's health had taken a turn for the worse and he passed away rather unexpectedly. Your uncle had suggested to your grandmother that she should move back to the Outer Banks since she was also so happy there. To the shock of everyone and your Nonna bought a house on Figure Eight, just a street over from the home your mother been raised in, and moved back to NC.

You’d flown into the tiny Outer Banks airport two days after the Fourth of July and, so far the sky had stayed crystal blue the entire week you’ve been there. It had been great to have some time with your grandmother all to yourself. The house on Figure Eight was huge; you definitely understood why she’d asked your mother if she would spare one of her three daughters to keep her company for the summer. Having the echoing house all to herself sounded glum. Your older sister was spending the summer in Italy for a college-writing program and since you know how to weaponize your middle child charm, you talked your mom into sending you to OBX rather easily.

“Nonna,” you called down, leaning over the balcony at the top of the stairs. “I can’t find my sandals and I don’t have any other shoes to wear to the Club for lunch.”

Your grandmother walked into the foyer and looked up at you. “y/n you know I can’t understand you when you yell from upstairs.” She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. You sighed under your breath careful that she didn’t hear you since you’d gotten in trouble for doing that yesterday.

Your mother use to complain about the way that her mom always felt the need to act - and have her children act - so posh during her childhood but those stories seemed so strange to you. Like a Nonna from a past life, not the one you knew. However, it seemed the Outer Banks had reignited her need to act sophisticated all the time.

You double-check your appearance in the mirror and then resigned to searching the downstairs of the house for your shoes.

☼☼☼

Nonna was busy making small talk with some of the other ladies at the Club after lunch but you were antsy to get back to the beach while the sun was still at its peak. You had had all the polite smiling and nodding you could take in an afternoon.

“I’m gonna- ” you pointed in the direction of the Club bathrooms and your Nonna waved her hand dismissively. You turned on your heel and headed away from her and the others.

You pushed open the door and was surprised at the quietness. You double-checked under all the stalls to make sure no one else was in there before sitting on the counter and resting the back of your head against the mirror. You knew you were probably smudging the glass but you needed a minute from all it.

It wasn’t that you weren’t totally in love with the Outer Banks. It was just that your mom seemed to leave out the strenuously boring parts of her childhood - the small talk, the lunches, the emphasis on class. Plus, on top of that, it seems your grandfather’s death has rattled your Nonna deeper than she cared to admit and she’d become overly cautious about everything. She was keeping a much tighter leash on you than was really needed, or so you thought.

The door swung open and you jumped off the counter hoping whoever had just entered didn’t see you sitting atop it. The young girl stopped rummaging in her cross-body bag and glanced look to meet your gaze. She had on a green and white polka-doted dress and her dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. She looked young, maybe 13 or 14 you guessed.

“Oh. Hi!” She said.

“Hi,” you responded. She walked over to stand next to you facing the mirror. She pulled a pink lipgloss out of her purse and ran it over her top and bottom lips before recapping it.

“Hiding out in here?” She asked. She took your moment of hesitation as an answer. “Yeah, me too. It’s by far the best hiding place. Plus my dad can’t come into the ladies' restroom so it buys me a little time.” She laughed, seemingly at the thought of her dad barging into a women’s bathroom. She looked over at you. “Not to pry but I don’t think I’ve seen at the Club before. Just visiting?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying with my Nonna, my grandma, for the summer. I got in last week.”

The girl smiled big. “The Outer Banks is ah-mazing. Sarah Cameron, by the way.”

Her genuineness brought a smile to your own face. “I’m so happy to meet you, Sarah. I’m y/n. I haven’t gotten to meet a lot of other kids yet.”

“I’m not really supposed to know this but my brother talks obnoxiously loud on the phone so it’s really not my fault for eavesdropping, but there’s a beach bonfire tonight down at the cove...it’s a Kook party spot.” She clarified after seeing the confusion on my face. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you tagging along.” Sarah reached into her bag and held out her phone. “Put your number in. I’ll pass it along to him.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your heart feeling warmed by this girl's kindness.

“Yeah, of course,” she stepped forward and wrapped you in an unexpected hug before she exited, leaving the door swinging in her wake.

☼☼☼

Your phone rang with an unknown number that afternoon around five, just after you’d gotten back from the beach. You answered the call and tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you finished rinsing off your sandy feet.

Sarah’s voice filled the speaker. “Hey y/n, so I told Rafe about you and asked about the party. He said he’ll pick you at 10. Okay? Text me your address so I can give it to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay! Umm...one question Sarah. What do I wear to this bonfire?” You asked.

A friendly laughed echoed through the phone. “Put your bikini under a sweatshirt and some short. You’ll be fine.”

“Um also one more thing,” You said.

“Sure!” Sarah replied.

“I think don’t think my Nonna would be too thrilled about me going to this party so could you ask Rafe to turn off the headlights when he get’s here. She sleeps on the first floor and I’m trying not to get caught sneaking out.”

“Trust me, I know.” You wondered how much 13-year old could possibly know about sneaking out but Sarah was becoming your one friend on the island so you just went with it.

“Thank you Sarah. I owe you.”

“I think you’re gonna get along with Rafe great. Okay, talk to you later. Bye y/n!” The phone beeped as Sarah ended the call. You slipped it back into your beach bag and grabbed your towel off the ground, feeling grateful for your new friend.

☼☼☼

Rafe had shown up at 10:03, a text from another unknown number appeared on your phone announcing his arrival. You'd climbed out of your second-story window and down the attached porch with a surprising amount of ease, only slipping once.

You'd opened the door to the black car and slipped into Rafe’s passenger seat, slight of breath.

Rafe chuckled light. "Hi," he said.

You glanced over, your eyes locking with yours and words escaped you. So Sarah has forgotten to mention her brother was hot. Like the kind of hot girls always giggled about when they passed him in the school hallway. The kind of hot he could probably get away with murder if he just flashed the cops a smile.

That same deadly smile was spreading across his face now. His tongue darted out of his mouth wetting his bottom lip.

"Hi," you squeaked out.

Rafe shifted the car into drive, still refusing to break the eye contact first.

"Should we go?" You asked, your nerves no less unsettled.

Rafe raised his eyebrow conspicuously before turning his head back to focus on the road.

The tension was already killing you and you'd spent less than five minutes together. That was the first moment you realized what Rafe was going to do to your life.

☼☼☼

Your phone pinged as you say around the little bone fire listening to the others talking about the Fourth. You were slowly starting to piece together the names and faces of the other Kooks Rafe had introduced you to.

There was Cole, Milo and Sawyer, who seemed to be Rafe's best friends. Cleo and Riley who welcomed you rather warmly. And Phoebe who had kept her eyes on you all-night in a threatening way that you had tried your best to brush off.

You pulled your phone out of your shorts pocket to see a text from Rafe on the screen.

'Wanna head out?'

You glanced at Rafe to find his eyes already trained at you. You read his text again before nodding your head yes at him.

You turned to Cleo sitting next to you. "It was nice to meet you. I think Rafe and I are gonna go."

"Oh, yeah okay!" She replied. "Wait," she pulled her own phone out of her pocket. "Put your number in. I'll add you to all our group chats. Rafe made it seem like you're gonna be around this summer so you're welcome to hang with us anytime!"

"Yeah, I'm here through August!" You said, smiling at Cleo's offer, taking the phone from her hand.

While you were typing your number into Cleo's phone, Rafe had materialized behind you.

"Thank you so much," you said handing Cleo back her phone.

"Of course!" Cleo replied, her eyes shifting away from your face to look up at Rafe. "Bye Rafe."

"See you later Cleo," he said. "Ready?" He asked looking down at you.

"Hmmhmm," you said before standing up, waving bye to the rest of the group and following Rafe back to his parked car.

"I didn't have anything to drink tonight," Rafe said as you settled into the passenger seat next to him.

"Okay," you replied, thinking back on the night but not remembering Rafe with a solo cup in his hand ever.

"Okay," he repeated back. "I just want to make sure you knew. I wouldn't ever do something that could hurt you."

"Okay," you said again, trying not to read to deep into his comment.

"What you'd think of everyone?" He asked.

"They're nice," you offered. "Different from friends back home."

"Oh, well I hope you'd keep hanging out with me...with us" he paused, quickly correcting himself.

You glanced at Rafe out of the corner of your eye, "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

"Cool." Rafe said.

His hand on the gear shift twitched, moving the slightest inch closer toward you. You swore you could feel him wanting to grab your hand, to interlaced his fingers with yours but he didn't. His hand stayed in place, his eyes on the road watching as the headlights of the car on the opposite side of the two- lane road grew closer and closer.

Your eyes grew suddenly big with panic and Rafe looked at you with fear written all over his face as you both realized the car was plowing down the wrong side of the street. It was on your side of the road and it was going to hit you.

Rafe frantically spun the wheel trying to avoid the oncoming car but there wasn't enough time.

Your body flew forward on impact before the resistance of the seatbelt caused you to snap back. You felt Rafe’s hand hold onto yours as your eyelids closed and the world faded to black.

#where it leads #where it leads series #obx netflix #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks series #outer banks fic #obx fic

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discoscoob · 4 years ago

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Love’s Labours Won | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

The TARDIS arrives in The Dark Ages where the Doctor tries to solve a mystery involving witchcraft. During your stay your relationship with Loki begins to develop due to a mix of a Shakespeare, jealousy and one bed.

Part Three | Part Five | Chapter Index

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: unwanted advances, mild homophobia, death: very minor characters, jealous Loki, swearing, angst, fluff and then more angst

Read on AO3

You were sat crossed legged in front of your floor length mirror, applying eyeliner when the whole room began jerking, which caused your hand to slip and left a long black line smudged over or eyelid.

You huffed in annoyance, as you pulled out a makeup wipe and began cleaning up the mistake, you decided that there was no point in attempting to try again as the whole TARDIS continued to quiver.

You climbed to your feet, still wiping your eye, as you stormed out of your bedroom with half your sight blocked by your makeup wipe. You failed to see Loki walking down the corridor at the exact same time and with the help of the turbulence, Loki lost his balance and stumbled into you, sending you both crashing into the wall.

“Good morning.” You greeted Loki, almost sounding out of breath from the shock of your back impacting with the wall. His face was mere inches from yours, as you were trapped against the wall between both his arms, unlike the last time you found yourself in this position with the God, it was purely accidental this time.

From the proximity you realised that today a light citrusy and floral scent surrounded him and from what you could see, he was wearing a solid black suit with a matching shirt and tie. The outfit made him appear even more powerful and intimidating than he usually did and despite the fact you were meant to be trying to push away any desires you had towards the God, your mind was encouraging you to just lean forward those last few inches and close the gaps between your lips.

Before you could follow your own minds advice, Loki awkwardly cleared his throat as he took a step back away from you, while straightening out his suit jacket.

“Good morning.” He repeated.

You both continued your way towards the control room, occasionally bracing yourself against the walls whenever you felt as though you were about to lose balance.

“Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?” You asked the Doctor, who was literally sprawled across the console, with his foot pushing a leaver, while his arm stretched out to the opposite side to turn a dial.

Donna was clinging onto the rail for dear life, while you and Loki attempted to reach her side without falling flat on your backsides.

“Yes, and I failed.” The Doctor distractedly answered.

“I can tell.” You replied, as the TARDIS jerked to an abrupt stop, you instinctively grabbed onto Loki’s arm to steady yourself and he put his own hand under your elbow to ensure you were stable.

Behind Loki’s shoulder you saw Donna watching you and the God closely, you could tell that she still didn’t trust Loki. Feeling conscious of her stare you mumbled a quick thanks towards Loki before you extended the distance between the two of you, while the Doctor ran to the doors of the TARDIS.

“Beyond this door lies a brave new world.” He announced with his back against the TARDIS doors, enthusiastic as ever.

“I’m up for anything, as long as there aren’t any volcano’s and none of us get possessed.” Donna seemed happily pleased.

“Oh Donna, the chances of that are low but never zero.” The Doctor cheekily smiled, before he turned on his heel causing the tail of his long brown trench coat to fan out behind him as he ran out the door. “Come on!”

When you stepped out of the TARDIS behind Donna, the first thing you noticed was that it was night but still humid, leading you to believe it was summertime and you noticed that you were surrounded by other humans which lead you to the conclusion that you were still on Earth.

The sound of horses hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the lively street, the attire of the people who occupied it and the medieval architecture of the buildings which aligned it all informed you that you had travelled backwards in time.

If you required further more indication, the foul waste which came pouring from the sky, barely missing you before Loki pulled you back, was the final confirmation you needed. You could hardly hold back the gag that threatened to rise at the back of your throat.

“We’ve arrived somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Good to know.” The Doctor commented.

“Listen, I’m all for time travel yeah, but that’s disgusting. I’m gonna nip to the loo on the TARDIS before we explore, I don’t wanna end up shitting in a bucket.” Donna announced before she retreated back inside the blue box, the door squeaked shut behind her.

“I always knew you were a primitive species but that is truly a testament to how far you have come in your short lives, it is positively awe-inspiring.” Loki remarked and you glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as you tried to decipher whether to be offended or take it as a compliment.

“So, this is London?” You eventually asked the Doctor, while you all waited for your auntie outside the TARDIS.

“Think so,” the Doctor let his eyes wander over the street, “round about, ooh... 1599. If I’m right, we’re just down the river, by Southwark, right next to the Globe Theatre, brand new, just opened! Though strictly speaking, it’s not a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, because of its 14 sides.”

“What’s that?” Donna asked, after stepping back outside the TARDIS, having caught just the end of the Doctors sentence.

“I was just saying, the Globe Theatre isn’t technically a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, it has 14 sides.” The Doctor repeated to Donna, who pulled a face.

“You’re always so pedantic,” Donna shook her head. “Why would they ever call it the Tetra-thingy Theatre?”

“Tetradecagon.” The Doctor corrected.

“See, pedantic.” Donna pointed out, and the Doctor looked insulted.

“As I was saying,” the Doctor returned to his original point while he glared at Donna, “the man himself should be there tonight.”

“Shakespeare?” Loki’s interest peaked.

“You know who Shakespeare is?” Your eyebrows lifted with surprise as you turned to Loki.

“Believe it or not, unlike everyone on Earth, we aren’t sheltered on Asgard. What can you tell me of the Nine Realms?” Loki paused to give you a chance to answer, but your lips remained sealed as your eyes bounced around in thought. “That’s what I thought.”

***

The Doctor had lead the way to the Globe Theatre and managed to sneak all four of you inside with the use a wallet, containing a blank piece of paper, which he had explained was called psychic paper. It allowed the person who looked upon it, to see whatever the Doctor presented it as, when he had said it was tickets to the performance you were let in without any bother.

Inside the theatre was filled to the brim, the four of you were cramped near the back of the stalls. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, unfortunately deodorant and other essential hygiene products weren’t invented yet but since you were stood by Loki’s side his delicious and fresh scent performed as a buffer over the foul odour and you found yourself almost snuggling into his chest as the play went on.

Once all the cast were bowing at the end of the performance, the crowd began chanting ‘author’ commanding that Shakespeare himself make an appearance on stage.

With his arms raised above his head and a flamboyant skip, William Shakespeare entered the stage and the cheers, whistles and applause grew even louder. He blew kisses toward the crowd, as he confidently walked back and forth across the stage, occasionally he leant down to brush the hands of the audience members below, who desperately reached out their arms in the hopes they might get to touch the renowned poet.

In the flesh, Shakespeare appeared to be a lot more attractive than any of his portraits ever suggested. He had a head full of wavy golden brown locks and a beard to match.

“He’s a bit different to his portraits.” You commented to no one in particular, as you continued to enthusiastically clap along with everyone else.

“Genius. He’s a genius. The genius, the most human human there’s ever been. And now we’re gonna hear him speak! Always, he chooses the best words, new beautiful, brilliant words...” The Doctor excitedly spoke.

“He is one of the finer Midgardian poets. I have read most of his work, he is truly gifted with his language.” Loki added.

“Shut ya big fat mouths!” Shakespeare merrily exclaimed to his audience, who erupted into laughter, while the Doctors and Loki’s faces fell with disappointment and they halted their applause.

“Oh Gods, he sounds just like my brother after one too many.” Loki realised with alarm.

“I know what you’re all saying, Love’s Labours Lost, that’s a funny ending, isn’t it? It just stops!” Shakespeare clicked his fingers to put emphasis on the abrupt ending. “Will the boys get the girls? Well, don’t get your hose in a tangle, you’ll find out soon.”

“When?” The audience eagerly chanted.

“All in good time, you don’t rush a genius.” The poet lowered himself into an elegant bow before he abruptly shot back up again.

“When?” Shakespeare repeated his audiences question. “Tomorrow night!”

The theatre erupted into raucous applause.

“The premier of my brand new play! A sequel, no less! And I call it Love’s Labours Won!” You and Donna continued clapping, oblivious to the suspicious glance the Doctor and Loki shared with one another over your heads.

***

“I can’t say I have ever heard of Love’s Labours Won.” Donna announced, as you were exiting the theatre, still huddled in a large crowd.

“Me neither, is it one of his more obscure works?” You looked over your shoulder to inquire with the Doctor, who easily stood a whole head and shoulders above the crowd surrounding you, as did Loki, who was walking beside you.

“Well, the thing is, it doesn’t exist, only in rumours. It’s mentioned lists of his plays, but never, ever turns up and no one knows why.” The Doctor explained, adding a tone of mystery to his voice as he quirked his expressive eyebrows.

Your interest peaked almost instantly, you noticed Donna’s had too as you both shared an inquisitive look, eager to discover more about this missing play.

“But how did it disappear in the first place?” Donna asked.

“Well... I suppose we could stay a bit longer and find out.” The Doctor suggested, to which you and Donna shared excited smiles.

***

You collectively made the decision to spend the night in one of the inns, to not only get the full experience but the Doctor knew of which one Shakespeare occupied, this allowed him the opportunity to keep a vigilant eye on the poet, in the hopes of discovering what caused the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

“Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?” The Doctor asked as he knocked on the side of the doorway, “Mr Shakespeare, isn’t it?”

You followed into the room behind the Doctor with Loki close behind you and Donna entering last, to find the famous writer lounging at a desk as he drank from a tin cup, with two of the actors from his play sat in front of him.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, who let you in?” Shakespeare pinched the bridge of his nose. “No autographs. You can’t be sketched with me and please don’t ask where I get my ideas. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove...”

Shakespeare finally removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and raised his hand into a shoo motion, but as he lifted his eyes to look at the Doctor they instead landed on you and his words died on his tongue.

“Hey nonny, nonny,” the playwright addressed you, as he suddenly sat up straight and gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit right down here next to me.”

Your eyes slightly widened at the interest Shakespeare displayed in you, while behind you no one noticed the way Loki had begun looking upon the poet with a shadow cast over his eyes. The innkeeper entered the room and placed her hands on the shoulders of the two actors, who were sat before Shakespeare.

“Come on, lads, I think our William’s found his new muse.” She encouraged them to make themselves scarce, while Shakespeare rose from his seat.

“Sweet lady,” he continued to address you as he beckoned you over to the chair one of the actors previously occupied, you politely smiled at him as you lowered yourself into the chair and he sank back into his own.

The Doctor sat down in the chair beside you and Donna sat on his other side, so he was sandwiched between the two of you, while Loki lingered in the back, where no one could notice the way his gaze menacingly lingered on Shakespeare.

“I’m Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions,” the Doctor listed off your names, as he held up his wallet containing the psychic paper, which he had used to enter the Globe Theatre with, in front of William.

“Interesting. That bit of paper, it’s blank.” Shakespeare pointed out, it appeared he was immune to the papers psychic powers.

“Oh, that’s... very clever.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he let his hand holding the wallet fall limp. “That proves it. Absolute genius.”

“Who are you, exactly?” William rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward as propped his cheek upon his fist, while he returned his attention to you. “More to the point who is your delicious lady?”

Donna raised her eyebrows as she looked between you and the poet. “She’s my niece.” Your auntie stated, capturing the writers attention.

“Your niece is very captivating.” Shakespeare informed your auntie.

“And you’re very married.” Donna countered, clearly disapproving of his flirtatious manner towards you.

Near the back of the room, Loki’s lips lifted in a proud smile as he watched Donna shut down Shakespeare.

“Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!” A large, heavy and bearded man, wearing a pleated collar, black robes and an elaborate gold necklace which rested over his shoulders, invited himself into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“This is absolutely abominable behaviour, a new play, with no warning! I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me, before it can be performed!” He lectured the playwright, who stroked his beard in an idle manner.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll send it round.” The experienced writer calmly answered.

“I don’t work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!” The man demanded.

“I can’t!” Shakespeare finally raised his voice.

“Then tomorrow’s performance is cancelled. Love’s Labours Won will never be played.” The man concluded, before showing himself out the room.

“I guess that answers our questions about Love’s Labours Won. I thought it was going to be a bit more exciting than that. It usually is with you, Doctor.” Donna sighed disappointedly.

Almost as if on cue, the shrill sound of a woman’s scream was heard from the street outside and you all stood to attention.

“Sounds like I spoke to soon.” Donna remarked, before the Doctor sprung from his chair and dashed out the room with the rest of you following on his tail, including Shakespeare.

Once you were all out on the street, you saw the man who had declared the cancellation of Love’s Labours Won, stumbling around and clutching at his neck as he repeatedly threw up what appeared to be water.

“Leave it to me, I’m a doctor.” The Doctor announced, as he rushed to the man’s aid, although he barely reached him before the man collapsed to the floor with a choked groan of pain, as water continued to pour out his mouth.

The man lay motionless on the straw covered cobblestone street and it appeared to be too late for the Doctor to do anything as he checked his pulse with a grim expression.

The Doctor stood to his feet to address the innkeeper, who had come out to witness the commotion.

“Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable, have him taken away.” The Doctor instructed her, before he crouched back down by the body.

You followed Donna as she joined the Doctors side, you knelt on the opposite side of the body across from Donna and the Doctor and Loki settled beside you.

“What actually happened to him?” Donna whispered to the Doctor, understanding that what he had told the innkeeper was a lie.

“If I’m not mistaken, it looks like witchcraft.” The Doctor suspected, his tone deadly serious.

“Before anyone points their finger at me, I’m not a witch. I’m a sorcerer, there is a difference.” Loki proclaimed his innocence.

“No one is blaming you.” You assured him.

“I’m usually the first suspect when something goes wrong.” Loki explained, with a small laugh to keep it light but you still frowned, imagining how frustrating it must be to constantly be seen as the black sheep.

***

You all solemnly returned to the inn, the unexpected death of the man who had wanted to cancel Love’s Labours Won, had inspired the Doctor to stay in order to get to the bottom of it.

The innkeeper had accommodated the four of you with the last two unoccupied rooms of the inn, however almost looked ready to kick you all out onto the streets when Donna had suggested the Doctor and Loki take one room, while she and you take the other.

“Two men will not lie together under my roof.” She muttered ever so quietly, as if it were far too scandalous to be said out loud.

“The dark ages.” The Doctor sighed, while he dragged his palm down his face. “Miss Noble likes to jest,” he assured the innkeeper, who eyed the four of you suspiciously before reluctantly leaving.

“I broke that rule a long time ago.” Shakespeare spoke through a chuckle.

“Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” The Doctor muttered to himself, causing you to let out a small snort of laughter.

***

Due to the innkeepers rules surrounding sleeping arrangements, this resulted in the Doctor and Donna sharing one room, while you and Loki shared the other, the rooms were situated on opposite sides of the inn.

You and Loki stared at the double bed, both wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Inside your mind you were freaking out, but you didn’t let it show on your exterior, you were meant to be trying to forget these thoughts about Loki which occupied your mind, sharing a bed with him for the night would only make it worse.

The God wordless walked further into the room, the floor loudly creaked beneath each step he took, as did the mattress once he lowered himself onto it in a sitting position, with his back turned to you.

He removed his tie and hung it around the post at the bottom of the bed, followed by his suit jacket and then his shoes, your heartbeat was rising with every item of clothing he removed wondering how much further he would go, but luckily he stopped there rested back onto the bed, with his pillows propped against the headboard.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Loki casually commented, noticing you hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room.

You swallowed and softly moved towards the bed, noticing the floor boards didn’t creak as loudly beneath your feet and once you sat on your side of the bed, with your back turned to Loki, you copied his previous movements and began removing your shoes.

“Shakespeare seems fond of you.” Loki remarked, as he picked at some loose thread on the blanket beneath him and you paused your actions. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could sense a certain edge to his voice that made you believe that he wasn’t only making casual conversation.

“Those are words I never imagined would be said towards me.” You lightly chuckled, as you resumed your movements, before you slowly shuffled up the bed to lie beside Loki.

“It must feel nice to capture the attention of such a renowned figure of your realm.” Loki continued, and you wished instead that you could’ve captured the God’s attention in the same way.

“I suppose,” you shrugged, despite the fact that you could admit the man was far more attractive in person than he is depicted in any of his portraits, his attempts at flirting with you hadn’t so much made you swoon but rather made you feel awkward.

“He reminds me of my brother, you would like him.” Loki told you. “The same golden hair, the same confidence-”

“He’s not really my type.” You quickly admitted, causing Loki to pause for a moment.

Without looking you could tell Loki had turned on his side towards you, as you felt the uncomfortable mattress shift beneath your back. He had propped his head up on his elbow, while his other arm rested on the dip of his waist.

“What would you describe ‘your type’ as?” Loki curiously inquired.

You. You answered in your mind, while your lips remained sealed as you pretend to be giving it some thought while you focused on nervously fidgeting with your fingers over your stomach.

Eventually you lifted your eyes to Loki, his were already unapologetically focused on you. As you silently watched him from under your lashes, you willed him to read your mind from your stare alone and from the way his eyes darted over your face, you could tell he was trying.

The candlelight which luminated the room, cause his eyelashes to cast shadows over his defined cheeks when his gaze paused on your lips for a moment too long, he drew his own lips inward to moisten them as his eyes slowly rose back to yours.

You leaned towards him, ever so slightly and nervously swallowed as he moved the hand he was using to support his head, to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. His other arm made the mattress dip beside your waist, as he used it to support his weight as he leaned his upper body over you.

His long hair fell untidily around his face and you hesitantly reached out your own hand to tuck one side of it behind his ear, surprised by how silky it felt against your fingertips. You let your palm cradle his sharp jaw as he slowly lowered his own face towards yours and both your eyelids fell shut as you waited to feel the sensation of the others lips moving against your own, but just as you felt his warm breath fan against your skin, an ear piercing scream caused you to shoot up with alarm and your forehead to smack against Loki’s.

“Fuck!” You both cried in unison as you cradled your throbbing foreheads in your palms. The sound of loud footsteps running past your door from the hallway outside, reminded you of what caused you to startle in the first place and you quickly jumped from your bed, ignoring the way the pain in your head protested against it and rushed after the sound of the footsteps down the stairs.

“She died of fright.” You heard the Doctor conclude, as you turned through the doorway to the study Shakespeare was working in, to find the time lord leaning over the innkeeper’s dead body. Your auntie was stood at the open window, as if searching for something, and Shakespeare looked dazed as he sat at his desk with confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t like how this is turning into the plot of Clue.” You commented, before you jumped when you heard footsteps behind you, only to relax when you saw they belonged to Loki.

“Doctor!” Donna called from the window, and he immediately rushed over to catch what she was looking at but unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t quick enough.

“What did you see?”

“A witch.” Your auntie answered, as if she could hardly believe herself.

***

During the early hours of the morning, the innkeepers body had been removed by a coroner and the Doctor had stayed up until the crack of dawn began to peak through the inn’s windows, trying to figure out how the sudden deaths and the witchcraft all linked to the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

You and Loki provided little help, hardly listening to the Doctor as he voiced his thoughts loud. You were both to occupied with distracting one other, as you kept glancing at each other from across the room, the tension between the both of you had been building ever since your chance to share a kiss was stolen away from you.

Looking around the room, you could see everyone was caught up with trying to come up with explanations for what was happening and you realised you could probably slip out the room without anyone noticing or at least not paying it much attention.

Giving Loki a look which made a crease form between his eyebrows you rose from your chair and quietly made your way towards the door leading to the hallway, you paused once more under the arch of the doorway and gave Loki another look, which caused his eyebrows to rise with understanding, before you disappeared into the hallway.

You walked up the stairs and entered the room you and Loki were sharing, hoping he would figure out where to find you, you sat on the bottom of the bed as you waited.

It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps approaching the room, no one could ever hope to move around quietly on the floorboards of the inn. The doorway to your room was lower than the others, which meant when Loki walked through it he had to duck his head. After he gently shut the door behind him, he turned and paused with his back to the door, you were looking at him, from where you sat on the bed, with a wide smile as giggles threatened to rise from your stomach at the secrecy of it all.

“I was meant to follow after you, right?” Loki checked, as he walked further into the room.

You nodded as you rose to your feet and met him halfway.

“I’ve never done this before,” Loki bashfully admitted, as he looked down. “Sneak away with someone in secret, I mean.”

“You never had anyone to sneak away with in that big old palace on Asgard?” You asked, putting little effort into hiding your surprise. “I assume you lived in a palace, I don’t actually know…”

“Yes, I grew up in a palace,” Loki chuckled, “and no, there was no one to sneak away with in it, that was more Thor’s arena.”

“I’ve never done this either,” you confessed, “I had visions of myself waiting here and you not showing up because I didn’t make myself clear enough and then having to return to the room pretending I just took a piss in a bucket.”

Loki’s laughter grew louder and his smile wider, as crinkles appeared at the side of his eyes which lit up his entire face, you decided you would like to see this expression on him more.

You reached your hand up to his face and gently rested your palm against his cheek and in return you felt his large hands engulf your hips as they gently pulled you closer. Your other hand rose to his shoulder and brushed along it until you curled your fingers around the back of his neck to slowly pull his face towards yours.

This time you felt his lips mould against yours without any interruptions, his right hand left your hip to brush up to the small of your back, the back of your shirt slightly rode up with his hand, and he pulled you closer so your chests were flush, while your whole arm snaked around the back of his neck and you felt the tips of his soft hair tickle against your bare forearm.

Blindly Loki guided you towards the bed, never lifting his lips from yours for one second. Once he felt the back of his calves hit the bed frame, he let himself fall onto the mattress, it let out a squeak as did you, and you giggled against his mouth as you made yourself comfortable in his lap with your legs resting on either side of his hips.

His hands moved to hold you firmly around your waist as your palms rested on both his shoulders. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, and turned your head away to let out a yawn, exhausted from staying up until dawn.

“I’m that boring, huh?” Loki joked, as his hands soothed up and down the sides of your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you hummed, as you gave him a small peck, “I guess my lack of sleep finally caught up with me.”

“You should rest,” Loki suggested, as he attached his lips to the column of your neck to leave feather light kisses, you let out a throaty groan in response as the tips of your fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked with closed eyes, as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you felt his hand climb up your spine, before his fingers buried themselves into your hair as he cradled the back of your head. “I know you don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but will you stay with me while I do?”

Loki lifted his head from your neck to look at you, while his fingers which were buried in your hair, gently massaged over your scalp which sent a calming sensation running straight down your spine, relaxing you even further and making your eyelids heavier.

You couldn’t see it on his face, but Loki was shocked by the fact you trusted him enough to wish to sleep beside him. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he stared up at you through his lashes with wide eyes full of wonder. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded, which caused you to tiredly smile and give him another small kiss as thanks.

As you both moved up the bed, the mattress creaked and squeaked beneath you. Loki rested on his back and you crawled up to him and rested your head on his chest, you could feel it softly rise and fall and you could hear his heartbeat while his calming sent surrounded you, and they all worked together to help lull you off into a peaceful sleep.

Before you drifted off, you felt Loki’s arm curl around your shoulders while the tips of his fingers softly brushed against your arm, causing goosebumps to rise where they travelled.

Loki planted a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his own eyes fall shut, deciding to give sleep a try even though he wasn’t feeling particularly tired.

***

You were abruptly woken up by the sounds of screams and lightening coming from the street outside your room. Due to the fact none of the candles were lit, it was filled with darkness, the only thing luminating the room was an unsettling red glow, which shone through the windows of the inn. You shot up immediately and discovered Loki had fallen asleep, kneeling on the mattress beside him you put your hand on his shoulder and shook him awake.

“What is it?” His voice sounded croaky from his sleep, he soon heard the screams and noticed the sinister red glow of the room, he jumped from the bed and rushed to the window and you followed after him, your jaw dropped and your hand came up to your mouth at what you saw.

From your second story window of the inn, you had a perfect view of the Globe Theatre and right now storm clouds and lightening swirled around it, while luminous crimson smoke rose from the centre. On the streets below groups of people desperately rushed away from the theatre crying and screaming.

“Donna and the Doctor are probably already at the theatre, we have to go!” You rushed back to the bed to pull on your shoes and Loki did the same.

Once you were both ready, you ran out of the inn and into the chaos on the street. Loki took your hand in his as you both began running towards the Globe Theatre, so you wouldn’t get separated by the large crowds running against you.

When you reached the theatre, you saw the stage door was slightly ajar and ran straight towards it, pulling Loki along with you.

As soon as you reached the stage, and saw your auntie, the Doctor and Shakespeare all stood on it, you dropped Loki’s hand. You missed the way the God’s brows formed a crease while he looked down at your hand, as you were too distracted by the terrifying sight before you.

Your hair blew around your face wildly, as in the centre of the theatre there was what only could be described as a hurricane of scarlet mist and lightning bolts and dark horrifying figures flew around inside the swirling phenomenon.

“Donna!” You called, as you rushed to her side.

She called your name when she turned over her shoulder and saw you and pulled you towards her.

“What’s going on?” You yelled above the commotion, Loki stood closely beside you and listened to the conversation.

“They want to end the world, take over and build their new empire.” Donna explained with tears in her eyes, “we’re too late, there’s nothing we can do.”

Your lips fell slack and you looked back towards the swirling flaming red mist with terror, realising it was a portal, to unleash evil upon the world.

You looked up at Loki, his long black hair waved around his face from the gusts caused by the portal, he was staring at it with a thoughtful expression before his eyes locked with yours and he saw the fear in them.

With a determined look, Loki walked towards the edge of the stage, you noticed the luminous emerald mist already starting to form in his palms before he lifted them towards the centre of the theatre. His right foot came backwards, to support his weight, as his magic pushed against him but he leaned his upper body into it.

With one hand he focused his magic on the centre of the theatre, before he moved the other to direct a burst of magic towards the royal box, your eyes followed the green mist and widened when you saw three witches who you hadn’t noticed before. With his magic focusing on the witches who were the source of the power, the portal began to deteriorate and was easily engulfed by Loki’s magic.

The God raised both his arms into the air, and a green surge of light shot into the night sky, taking the portal with it, the force caused the doors behind the stage to fly open and hundreds of loose pages flew into the air and with a resounding boom everything vanished, the only evidence left behind was a faint green mist which slowly began to dissipate. Even the three witches who had been sat in the royal box were gone, the only thing left behind was a crystal ball which sat on the edge of the balcony.

The remaining members of the audience, who hadn’t managed to escape, began to slowly clap until they erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause.

From the side of the stage, you watched Loki glance around at the audience, as he momentarily appeared to be caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure and lowered himself into an elegant bow with both his arms spread wide and the audience began applauding him even louder.

Shakespeare appeared by your side and took your hand in his, your other hand was already holding Donna’s and he guided you both to the edge of the stage, beside Loki and the three of you bowed in unison, however the entire time your eyes were locked on Loki as he stared at your hand which was held in the poets, and that dangerous shadow cast over his eyes again as his jaw clenched.

***

Loki had avoided you for the rest of the night. When you all returned to the inn, due to the fact most of the guests had fled the town in fright when the portal opened, there were suddenly a lot more rooms going spare. Loki had vanished to one of the rooms without a word, despite the fact everyone was trying to bestow him with gratitude and praise for literally saving the world, he ignored it all.

You had stayed in the common room, with Donna, the Doctor and Shakespeare as they explained everything that had happened. The witches in the royal box had possessed Shakespeare last night as he was writing the end of Love’s Labours Won and wrote a spell into the script, the innkeeper must have witnessed this and died from the fright. They had killed the man who had tried to cancel the play as they needed it to be performed and for the actor to read the spell out loud on stage to open the portal, which would’ve allowed millions of their kind to travel through and invade Earth, the Doctor had called them the Carrionites.

The entire time you couldn’t keep Loki off your mind, the look on his face when he saw your hand in Shakespeare’s, kept appearing behind your eyes, making your heart sink deeper each time. As soon as Donna and the Doctor had finished explaining everything to you, you excused yourself and headed upstairs to the rooms and stopped in front of the door which you had seen Loki disappear behind.

“Loki?” You softly knocked on the door, but there came no response. You tried the handle, but it was firmly locked.

“Can we talk?” You tried again, and you waited, but still nothing.

You rested your forehead against the door in defeat and sighed.

“Goodnight, Loki.” You whispered before you retreated to your room.

***

The next morning the Doctor had decided to return to the theatre to see if he could help Shakespeare salvage any parts of Love’s Labours Won, but it seemed as though all traces of it vanished when Loki destroyed the portal, finally solving your mystery of how it disappeared.

Loki still hadn’t emerged from his room, even when you had knocked on his door to inform him that you were all heading to the theatre and then from there you would be returning to the TARDIS.

You were beginning to feel incredibly worried about him while you sat on a wooden box on the stage of the Globe Theatre as your concerns raced through your mind.

“What troubles you?” You startled, since you had been too distracted by your worries to even notice that Shakespeare had taken a seat beside you on the box.

You contemplated whether or not you should actually tell the poet what was troubling you or if you should dismiss him, you realised that you couldn’t really voice your worries to Donna or the Doctor since neither of them knew about what happened between you and Loki yet. At least with Shakespeare he would be out of your life for good within the hour, so you decided you could share it with him.

“It’s Loki,” you sighed sadly, “he has been avoiding me.”

You suddenly felt the weight of his hand on your lower back, as he pulled you closer and you stiffened.

“If Loki won’t give you his attention. Why not entertain a man who will?” Shakespeare proposed, before he began leaning his face towards yours.

Your eyes widened and you immediately brought your hands to his chest to push him away.

“It seems I arrived at the wrong time.” As soon as you heard Loki’s familiar deep voice, your heart plummeted in your chest.

“Loki,” you looked over your shoulder at him, guilt already filling your eyes, despite the fact you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You weren’t going to kiss Shakespeare, you had been milliseconds away from pushing him off the box.

You rose to your feet and tried to walk towards Loki but he took a step backwards to maintain the distance and you got the hint.

“Good props store, back there!” The Doctor caught your attention, you turned and saw him and Donna returning to the stage, dressed in various different props and costume pieces.

“Not sure about this, though.” He held up what appeared to be a large animals skull in his left hand, you couldn’t depict what it was, but it looked ghastly. “Reminds me of a Sycorax.”

“Sycorax.” Shakespeare repeated. “Nice word. I’ll have that one off you as well.”

“I should be on 10%.” The Doctor muttered.

“Mobius.” You heard Loki gasp from behind you, and your attention turned to his line of sight, to find a fair haired man, with a moustache and wearing a plain brown suit enter the theatre by one of the stalls entrances, followed by a group of armed officers. You instantly recognised him as the man Loki had been hiding from in Pompeii.

“It’s nice to finally see you again, Loki.” The man spoke, sounding like an old friend, but there was definitely something far more sinister hiding in his tone.

By now the exchange had captured everyone’s attention, as you all glanced between Loki and the new stranger Loki had addressed as Mobius.

“How did you find me?” Loki asked, as he stepped towards the edge of the stage.

“It wasn’t too hard, we’ve been tracking seismic activities of your magic. You lead us right to you.” Mobius smiled, it seemed that composed smile never left his face. From how uneasy Loki appeared, you decided you disliked him already.

“I’d just like to know, who would be idiotic enough to give you, of all people, free rein through all of time and space.” Mobius asked Loki, who had parted his lips to answer but before he could, the Doctor stepped up to the edge of the stage beside him.

“That would be me.” The Doctor announced, still dressed in all the props he had found back stage, including a pleated collar and an oversized beret while he still held the disturbing animal skull, he looked quite the spectacle.

Mobius was speechless for a moment, as his eyes dragged up and down the Doctor’s tall form.

“He’s a time lord.” Loki proudly lifted his head, as one might just before they lay down their cards to reveal a winning hand.

Mobius smile finally dropped, and you couldn’t help the smirk that lifted at the corner of your lips, proud to see Loki have an advantage.

“Impossible. They’re all gone.” Mobius tried to hide any traces of confusion from his face and tone and instead feigned confidence in his statement.

“All except me.” The Doctor explained, and you practically saw the realisation hit Mobius at full force.

“You’re...” The words died on Mobius’ tongue, before his eyes filled with horror.

“I’m beginning to get the feeling that they don’t honour me as much as they do the other time lords.” The Doctor whispered to Loki, who was now frowning.

Mobius commanded something you couldn’t hear to the armed officers around him and they raised their weapons.

“I think that is our cue to run.” The Doctor decided as he slowly began backing away, he threw the animals skull at Shakespeare, who quickly caught it, then took Donna’s hand in his own as he rushed past her and lead her out the stage door with you and Loki following closely behind him.

You followed the trail of the Doctors long brown trench coat, through the busy streets, glad that he seemed to memorise the way to the TARDIS because you had no idea, while you had flashbacks of running for your life through Pompeii, except this time you were running from the exact same thing Loki had been.

Once the familiar blue box caught your eye, your legs began carrying you even quicker as you made your final sprint towards it. The Doctor was already at the door, holding it open, you made it in first and then Loki closely after you.

The Doctor wasted no time and immediately rushed to the controls to get the TARDIS out of there as soon as possible, while you leant over the rail, as you tried to catch your breath. You felt the sharp pain of a stitch in your side and brought the tips of your fingers up to your abdomen and dug them into your skin where you felt the pain, in an attempt to ease it.

Just as the familiar tremors and the sound of the engine wheezing filled the control room, an outside force caused the ship to jerk harshly and sent you crashing to the floor.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath, as pain shot through your hip from the impact of hitting the hard floor.

Glancing around it seemed everyone else had managed to maintain their balance, the Doctor was still frantically working at the controls, Donna was glancing at you with concern from the other side of the control room and Loki looked lost in thought while he held on tight to the rail.

Eventually the tremors subsided and the TARDIS settled into a tranquil state and the Doctor collapsed into the seats with his feet rested up against the ships console, looking exhausted as he finally pulled the pleated collar from off his neck with a heavy sigh.

“Well… now we’re all on the run from the Time Variance Authority.” The time lord concluded.

#loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

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imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 16/?

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name

I put two days into this chapter<3 I guess the timeline may speedup a bit<3

Warnings: Jail discussion, Victim Shaming, Fighting, Mentions of Injury, Disassociation, Disconnect, Trauma, Swearing, Mentions of alcoholism and drug use, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Family game night was well underway in the Wayne Manor when Y/N got a phone call from the prison that Justine Wong, her high school friend who went to jail protecting her, was incarcerated in until her trial or the man who attempted to assault Y/N dropped the charges.

She excused herself and went outside in the Autumn weather to take the call.

“Hello.”

“This is an automated call from Gotham County Prison from Inmate ‘Justine Wong’, to accept this call please press 1.”

She did as such.

“Thank you for your cooperation. All inmate calls are recorded. Your account balance is $50.69.”

“Hello?” Justine asked into the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. Why are you calling? Are you alright?” Y/N asked.

“I need you to come here and get me a lawyer.”

“You’re up my ass right now, aren’t you? I thought he was dropping the charges?”

“He isn’t. Christopher, Thomas, Kaitlin and I seriously need your help now.”

“Are you all in the same prison?”

“Yes, they transferred over the boys yesterday because of this. We can all meet in a recorded room while you get us a lawyer.”

“Fuck, dude. Uh,” she thought about game night, but decided this was more important, “Do you need me now?”

“Yes, we can all get into the room and then you can meet us, I think the jail is 10-20 minutes of a walk away from the Manor?”

“Fuck. Okay. I’ll be there.”

Click. She thought about going back inside and asking someone to drive her to the jail, but she was also just not prepared to answer anyone’s questions about it. It was cold outside, but if she ran she could get there in 10 minutes. But that’s when Bruce joined her outside, she assumed Jason sent him because he was crushing his siblings in Monopoly at the moment.

“So, I’m friends with the commissioner of the county, Jim Gordon,” Bruce said, “And I know what your friends are dealing with.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s plastered all over the news or anything,” she said to Bruce, with a slight [massive] amount of sarcasm tinged in her voice.

“Do your parents know?”

“If they did I wouldn’t be in Gotham anymore.”

“Do you need a ride to the jail?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that, no issue.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“Anytime,” he said before leading her to one of his cars.

------------------------------------------

In the car, Y/N tried to keep up conversation with Bruce, it was a short drive but the time seemed to slow and he could tell she wasn’t talkative. This was, what he thought was likely, very, very stressful for her. He was used to this, the court dates, the police station, but he knew that her attackers’ court dates were coming up and she was going to need emotional support, since her parents weren’t in the city.

He didn’t know how to support her as the dad of her boyfriend, he’d probably just mention it in passing to Jason and Jason would deal with her. ‘Deal with’ probably was not the way to describe the girl that his son was dating, especially when she’s in as much emotional distress as Y/N clearly was in that moment, but Bruce was terrible with wording.

She didn’t even want him to bother with her emotions about it all, because she didn't know how she felt. She didn’t know anything about the situation and how it made her feel, she just froze in the sight of this confrontation and hid from it all behind a mask of seeming to know what she was doing.

They pulled up to the prison, and she got out of the car and waved off Bruce before walking to the front desk and saying who she was and why she was there, providing her ID if need be. They led her into the backrooms, and told her that the room was being recorded and that she couldn’t touch them before letting her in the room.

She looked at the 4 of her friends who were all being charged with assault and battery.

“Y/N?” Thomas asked.

“This... this is surreal. Didn’t think we’d ever end up like this,” she said, looking at the floor before crossing her arms.

“What do we do now?” Kaitlin asked.

“Do any of your parents have enough money to pay for a lawyer? I can call them for you,” Y/N said.

“You didn’t already call them?” Christopher asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been pretending this entire thing doesn’t exist, I don’t want it to exist.”

“But we need a lawyer,” Justine snapped.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well you should have gotten us a lawyer!” Justine snapped again, raising her voice.

“Now is not the time to yell at her, Justine,” Thomas interrupted.

“Shut up, Thomas! You,” she turned to Y/N, “Look at me! Look what you made us do and you can’t even look us in the eyes!”

“I didn’t make you do anything, Justine.”

“You’re the one who’s a fucking alcoholic and can’t handle her drinks so she almost got raped! You’re pathetic.”

“Now is not the time to victim shame me, Justine” Y/N sighed, “What you’re saying is very hurtful and makes me not wish to help you anymore, understood? You can lash out at me to get the anger out, but this isn’t my fault and you know it,” she said, finally locking eyes with Justine.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

They continued talking about what to do for hours, with Y/N ignoring most advances Justine made to prove the point that yes, she was pissed at Justine about what she had said to Y/N.

Y/N wasn’t taking anyone’s shit anymore. Ever since she met Jason, and pissed off the press, she stopped letting people get away with everyone, she stopped telling people what they wanted to hear.

And people were noticing, especially her 4 friends in that room. She was trying to get better, to recover so she wouldn't relapse, and it was obvious.

“Y/N?” Justine said.

“Justine?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am aware. I’ll be calling your parents when we’re done here.”

“So do you forgive me?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you.”

“You’ve changed.”

“Good,” she turned to the other 3, “Anything you 3 want before I leave?”

“Nope, that’s it,” Thomas said, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“That’s everything yeah,” Kaitlin said, “Thanks, man.”

“What they said,” Christopher joked, “Thanks.”

“Alright, I love you 3, I’ll try to arrange phone calls with you 3,” she said putting emphasis on the word 3. Oh yeah, she was pissed.

She would leave the room without even saying ‘goodbye’ to Justine. She would tell the police she was done with the meeting. They asked who would be handling getting lawyers to the 4 kids, she said she would call their parents. Commissioner Gordon walked up to her and held out his hand, “You must be Jason’s girlfriend. I’ve know that kid all his life basically, I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon,” he said.

“Y/N,” she said, shaking his hand.

“I know these last 2 weeks have been extremely stressful for you, Y/N,” he said.

“I think everyone’s caught onto that.”

“I called Bruce to come get you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

-----------------------------------

Meeting new people filled her with a lot of life after the hell she was pulled through. From stabbing, to head injuries, to friendships crumbling, to court, Y/N was being strewn through the wringer.

She knew it would calm down eventually, she was just being put through a few bad weeks for a lifetime of happiness, and she hoped that happiness was with Jason.

She couldn’t think much longer when Bruce pulled up and she got to the car.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know, Bruce?”

“I do. The justice system can be draining.”

“You could say that again,” she joked, “So, where do I start? Well, I get in there and tensions are high, obviously. I’m sure prison sucks when they shouldn’t really be there, they did the job the vigilantes here do, and we all let them do it. Anyway... my friend I guess, she comes at my throat about my attack,” she paused, trying to swallow her pain, “Starts blaming me for it, uses my alcoholic past against me, you know, the stuff you shouldn’t do. I don’t care if she’s right and I shouldn’t have drank, but she fucking led me to the bar.”

She fumbled with her hands a bit, still trying to not cry, “Anyway, I told her that she can’t talk to me like that, that I won’t let her talk to me like that and she apologized. Guess what? I said ‘You should be.’ and I know that might not mean much to you, Bruce, but I would have never stood up for myself like that had I not met your son, you did something right with that boy, Bruce, I swear,” she joked, “But that was about it, I have to call everyone’s parents to get them lawyers, but that’s it.”

“I figured you had a backbone from the start, kid,” Bruce said in response.

“You kidding? I had to ask Jason if you would hate me for flipping off the press? I’ve never, ever had a backbone.”

“Well maybe, besides the lack of protection,” he joked, “Maybe Jason and you are a good couple.”

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

“Thanks, Bruce. Really. Your kids are a hoot to hang out with and you’re not half-bad yourself, old man.”

“Are you going to start calling me that, too?”

“Maybe jokingly.”

“I’m not that old, kiddo.”

“You just called me kiddo and you think I don’t deserve to say you’re old? Really? Bruce, c’mon, you’re smarter than that.”

“You don’t deserve it. You’re just going to do it.”

She laughed, “About the protection lecture, I wouldn't have done it if I wasn’t on the pill, Bruce. I appreciate the concern, but you were so wrong about us ‘not being prepared’.”

He laughed, “Maybe you should have said something.”

“You never asked me, Bruce.”

“I wouldn't make a good detective, then.”

“That’s why Commissioner Gordon is on the cases I’m involved in, and not you.”

He paused, “Isn’t your head-butting buddy’s trial starting tomorrow?”

“It is.”

“Are you going to watch it?” he asked, off-handedly, “I think Dick might, just to see what the ‘sicko’ looks like.”

“I’m definitely going to watch it,” she laughed, “Might even make it an essay for school.”

“Well that’s one way to handle it.”

“Might as well turn the sick fuck who tried to turn me into a ransom note be turned into a 100% in my classes. Call it; Classy Revenge.”

They pulled into the driveway together, while Bruce was laughing at the comment Y/N made. She laughed, too. It helped heal some of the wounds she experienced over the 2 weeks of knowing Jason, even some of the prior wounds. Bruce told her that the kids were still playing Monopoly, none of them had apparently gone bankrupt yet, it was 12:00am.

To say she was impressed with Jason and his siblings would be an understatement, she remembered playing Monopoly with her family, and they’d all always declare bankruptcy within an hour or so, and thee was never a back-to-back winner when they all played.

Maybe they were bad at managing money, maybe thee Wanes just were too stubborn to declare bankruptcy and they bent the rules of Monopoly a little bit to suit their family, she didn’t know.

They walked into the house and sat back down, Y/N at Jason’s side where she had been the 4, or-so, hours before. Everyone seemed to acknowledge her presence and wished to ask her what happened, but no one knew how to bring it up to her. They knew she wasn’t used to the life of court and trials, the needing to talk to police, it was really one the Waynes and the kids of police officers that were used to tat stuff.

She pretended to not notice them wanting to ask her and opened her phone while Jason tried to negotiate for the 4th railroad from Tim, to see her mother texted her.

How are you, sweetheart? Her mum had asked.

I’m fine, mum. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

I should, but I can’t sleep thinking about the trial of your attacker

Same. It’s such a stressful situation.

I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling through all of this.

She couldn’t put how she felt into words. How the way that the moments she was in the alleyway made her feel. the way that man’s face was burned into her memory to be a constant reminder tat she wasn’t safe wherever she went. It was something she had never experienced before.

Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was pain.

I don’t know how I’m feeling either, Mum.

How’s your nose?

It’s healed basically. No more nosebleeds at random intervals.

You didn’t tell me about the nosebleeds.

I didn’t tell anyone about the nosebleeds, Mum.

Why not?

I don’t need people to worry about me, to feel for me, to make their times and schedules molded to fit me. Good intentions or not, I don’t need charity hand outs.

Then do we stop paying your rent?

Well, I mean you could. I wouldn’t stop you from stopping paying my rent, but the difference is that you giving me money is to keep me at the top of the school, to make myself the best I can be.

How badly would your studies be impacted if we stopped paying your bills?

Probably massively. Don’t worry, mum. It’s a two-year program and then I can get my own job and make enough money. I’ll get you a little house on a hill and you can be the Queen of the Hill.

That’s nice of you honey. We should both try to sleep if we’re trying ot catch the trial today.

Goodnight, Mum.

they were all still glued to the game, when Barbara chose she would take the risk and ask Y/N about the meeting.

“So, how was it?” she asked, innocently.

“How much time do you have?”

“We have pretty much all night, the others can go at this till the trial tomorrow,” she joked.

“I mean, challenge accepted,” Y/N laughed, “So, we pull up to the county jail, right. I wave off Bruce, no big deal, everything was going to plan, which should have honestly been my first sign that things were going to be fucked, but I digress,” she paused, “I walk in, give the lady my ID and she looks at m funny, like she knew that I had been drinking underage in that moment and was disappointed in me, as she should be.”

She fiddled with her hands, “So they lead me to the back and before they do they tell me the usual, I can’t touch any of them and my conversation with them will be recorded, then they let me in. I greet everyone like the good friend I am but tensions are high and everyone’s on edge, which is understandable, but.”

Jason perked up when she put emphasis on but, knowing the story was about to get real, really quickly.

“My friend Justine, she called me to get me there, she starts going at me about how this is my fault for being an ex-alcoholic and drinking, which, yes, i should not have been drinking. But she lead me to the bar,” she paused, “She starts blaming me for how I almost got raped and putting them all in there, whatever,” she paused again, “I basically told her that if she wanted my help she was going to have to behave and be nice to me, to which, she apologized,” she paused.

“You didn’t accept that apology, right?” Stephanie asked.

“God, no. I said I’d consider forgiving her. Everyone else was fine though. anyway, I have to call their parents and get them in contact with a lawyer soon.”

“You’re still doing that even after that whore victim-shamed you?” Jason said, he seemed in awe that Y/N would be so kind to someone who did her so wrong.

“Jay, I’m borderline legally obligated to do that,” Y/N said, “I wouldn’t do it if she hadn’t saved me.”

“I think you still shouldn’t do it,” Damien said.

“And you seem very vengeful, Damien. But that’s only sometimes me.”

“Look, thou shalt not sin or whatever, love thy neighbor or whatever, but that girl wronged you in that conversation, do you really owe it to her to call her parents?” Tim asked.

“You know, for a family who’s known for being the ‘Nice Billionaires’ you all tend to really hate my choices,” she joked.

“Don’t make dumb ones, and we wouldn’t judge,” Tim retorted.

”Okay, smartass. I hope you go bankrupt.”

-------------------------------------------

Waking up next to Jason on the day of her attacker’s trial was something to her. The comforting aura of the room seemed to be stripped away because the sun hadn’t risen, the blinds didn’t need to be closed, and Jason wasn’t cuddled up next to her.

She would find him already dressed, pacing back and forth in his room. For her 3 back-to-back days of being in Jason’s house without going home, she never saw him this actively distressed about anything. But given the situation they found themselves in, it was understandable.

Someone actively threatened her life for an attempt at a ransom on her name, because she was now tied to Bruce Wayne, and Bruce had money. Of course, for the Wayne household, the kids and Bruce were used to ransom attempts on themselves, with some of them actually being taken hostage before, but Y/N wasn’t.

She defended herself, and since it was, thankfully, caught on camera unlike the attack on her attempted-rapist, she didn’t have to appear in court, she didn’t even need to video her side of the story, she wrote it in a letter and sent it to the District Attorney's office. The District Attorney, being the prosecutor, was obligated to give her statement to the defense, so she was curious as to how her words would be spun to fit their narrative.

Jason and Y/N were both in the criminal psychology major at their college, they both knew what they were in store for, and they both had the ability to tear the defendant into pieces the minute he spoke. If, he spoke, that is.

Jason didn’t seem to notice that she was awake. He was really lost in his own thoughts, his own concerns. He stopped pacing though, and he was just staring at his laptop, possibly zoned out from the situation.

She got up as quietly as she could and went to hug him from, she could hear him let out a little chuckle, so she greeted him, “Good morning, Jay.”

“I thought you were still sleeping,” he turned to look at her.

“I was, but I woke up, that’s how that works,” she joked.

“That’s insane I would have never thought people wake up after they sleep,” he said with heavy sarcasm, “The more you know.”

“Insane, I know,” she said, “I still don’t even have clothes here,” she laughed, “I really need to go home eventually.”

“No you don’t, what?” he said with more sarcasm, “You can just wear my clothes, baby.”

“I don’t think they’ll fit, Jay, I think you forget you are literally massive.”

He laughed, “Listen, being massive is not my fault.”

“How is it not your fault?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“I am asking questions, I am curious now.”

“Shhh,” he joked, “No need to worry.”

“Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and he’s got rippling abs? But zero cause for concern? Where do you even find the time?”

“Well, when you’re not over it’s during my downtime.”

“Can’t believe you won’t work out in front of me,” she laughed, “That’s just rude.”

“You already have free entertainment here,” he joked.

----------------------------------------------

Somehow she found clothes that somewhat fit her so she could go downstairs and watch the start of the trial. She didn’t know if she could sit through the entire trial, she was victim. No one expected her to be able to sit through the entire thing. It was a lot different from studying trials to actually being a part of the trial.

There was more of an all-seeing-eye presence in the living room of the Wayne Manor that morning before the trial began. The sounds of reporters through the television while everyone sat and waited for it to begin, it was not something many would enjoy.

There would be an ending to this story, to this court case, whether it was a month from that moment on that couch or a year from that moment. There would be justice for that bullshit.

Part of her didn’t even want the trial. She wanted the man to take a plea deal. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight when murders were happening. But no one would let it go, a beautiful woman being hurt in an attack against her? It was the kind of stuff that the news sources wanted, craved, from every court case.

And that was the thing about it. She didn’t want to be the tabloids newest escapade into being more and more corrupt, broken, deceitful.

She looked to the television as Jason put his arm around her, bracing for any sort of reaction to the news. No one really knew how she was going to react. And then it started.

Cameras were being let into the courtroom and panning over to him. The man who had attacked her in the alleyway. She subconsciously brought her hand up to her nose and felt it. For a moment, it was like she was back in that alleyway, head-butting that man and then running to the Manor. But she wasn’t there and she knew that, trying to snap herself out o that state brought nothing, though. It took the Judge having to shush the entirety of the courtroom to get her attention back to the real world.

The Judge would introduce himself to the press, but mainly to the court, and then request opening statement. Or at least, Y/N thought that was what he was doing. She didn’t really know what was going on, something pulled her away from the court trial she was witnessing for the man who attacked her.

To the outside, the people surveying her to make sure she was okay, her eyes seemed to glaze over and she seemed to just disconnect from the situation. But they didn’t realize she had disconnected. She just looked to be in thought.

She saw colours fade in and out of her sight, people showing up in front of her, him showing up in her sights, the images dancing in her mind as if she was there in that courtroom.

The time began to slur in her mind. Hours became minutes to her. And before she knew it, court had ceased fro the day. She was snapped out of it by Jason letting her go. He offered to drive her home, she agreed.

-----------------------------------

“Y/N?” Jason asked while they were in the car.

“Uh huh?”

“Are you alright?”

“Good question,” she answered, flatly.

“Are you?” he asked, seeming more concerned.

“Probably not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Is that a no?”

“Mhm.”

He reached to place a hand on her thigh, attempting to comfort her, “That’s okay,” he said, “You don’t need to talk about it.”

“Mhm.”

He sighed, “I’ve decided something,” he said, “I’m going to spend the night at yours, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay.”

“You still don’t have to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“Okay, here,” he smiled, “Have I told you the full story about the time that we did chair-racing in the halls of Wayne Manor?” he asked.

“No, you haven’t.”

“Well, what happened was we ended up flying down the halls at like 4 in the morning, right? Well,” he paused, “Dick used to be an acrobat, so when he almost went flying off the stairs, he actually caught himself on a handstand on the rails. Chair still went flying,” he said.

She smiled a little bit. He knew he was doing something right.

“We ended up breaking a vase. Bruce was okay with it because it wasn’t his parents, but Alfred was pissed at us for it. Grounded us all for weeks about it.”

“As he should.”

“Look at me go, getting multiple word answers out of you, and I even got you to crack a smile,” he laughed and grabbed her hand to hold it, “I’m just so good at this boyfriend thing.”

She smiled again. The smiles wouldn’t last for long, but they did happen. He knew the trial was traumatic for her. He could tell. Just from the way she drooped after the trial ended, she could normally not shut up when it came to Jason, so this was out of character.

When they got to her house, he would walk, basically lead her, to her house. She was so far disconnected from everything, that he even just let her rest in her bed with his clothes on and her shoes still on, because she wasn’t functioning.

He would crawl into bed with her and let her rest her head on his chest.

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cosmikazie · 3 years ago

Text

PORTAL 1/2 TEST CHAMBERS RANKED ON HOW MUCH I’D LIVE IN THEM

(Note: We’re talking individual test chambers here, not just maps (with a few outliers). No escape sequence stuff, maybe excluding like a thing or two. Also we’re counting GlaDOS’s chamber(s) just because lol)

Ratings below the cut.

Chamber 00: 6/10. One of 3 rooms in the whole series with a toilet. Also there is mild enrichment with a cube and button test. Having to rely on portals to leave my little bedroom though is kinda ass.

Chamber 01: 1/10. I'm not gonna wait like 70 years to go from the kitchen to bedroom to bathroom or whatever I designate the rooms as

Chamber 02: 4/10. First chamber with a loft, but needs stairs and could benefit massively from both compartmentation and use of actual doors. It does have a nice central room, though.

Chamber 03: 3/10. Even with an envisioning of what it could look like as a living space, the architecture is just too weird to even consider. Still better than 01, though.

Chamber 04: 3/10. Same principle with this one. It's also quite small and the geometry feels strange to imagine a couch or something in there without it seeming starkly out of place.

Chamber 05: 7/10. Actually, pretty good. It's got a quasi-loft area, space for other things in the pit, and with a little bit more compartmentation and the addition of stairs, it could be the Aperture Science Quaint Beachside Cottage being envisioned.

Chamber 06: 1/10. Energy Pellets aside, it's literally a box.

Chamber 07: 4/10. Not ideal for remodeling or interior design.

Chamber 08: 1/10. I rap on 01 a lot, but waiting is better than swimming through toxic goo.

Chamber 09: 5/10. Frankly, would be on par with 05 if it was a little bit larger and didn't have the big Aperture Science Field Of Delete The Things You're Holding smack dab in the middle of it to begin with.

Chamber 10: 3/10. This one somehow managed to meet my demand for stairs, but forsake literally EVERYTHING else that made this chamber salvageable.

Chamber 11: 4/10. Somewhat livable, what with the nice beachside view, but it would be a few points higher if that "beach" wasn't a part of my home.

Chamber 12: 5/10. I see a lot of potential in this one, but it needs far more stairs, far less flinging, and a larger emphasis on safety. Otherwise, the compartmentalization is already solved for me by the vertical floor arrangement.

Chamber 13: 3/10. I will give it the room separation as a plus, but that's about it.

Chamber 14: 4/10. Not ideal. Compartmentalized, but too much space. Also the stairs that contract are cool, but not practical.

Chamber 15: 5/10. WAY too big as well for a home, but could be good for a nice morning walk.

Chamber 16: 6/10. Not bad for a hallway, removing the turrets. Well compartmentalized, but the main problem is in the square footage of each room.

Chamber 17: 9/10. This is the ideal test chamber here, minus minor renovations. Wonderful hallways, GREAT compartmentalization, dynamic rooms, two stories, and you even get a friend included. All it needs are like, two sets of stairs, and we're golden. SOLD.

Chamber 18: 2/10. This chamber isn't even that good as a CHAMBER. It's tedious, and frankly I don't want to spend more time in it than I have to.

Chamber 19: 5/10. Not great, but it does have interior heating, so that's good.

GlaDOS's Chamber P1: 2/10. Suffers from the fact that it is simply one huge, tall room. I like having space, but this is FAR too much. Plus, where the hell am I going to put the couch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Courtesy Call Chamber: 6/10. At least has an implied toilet. Not ideal for space but I once had to live in a hotel room for a month, so I'm at least familiar with it.

Overgrown 00: 3/10. Same thing, but filled with plants. If it's spring, then Christ almighty I'm down for the count.

Portal Carousel: 2/10. Somehow, it got better with the buttons. Still kinda tedious, having to walk back and forth all day to get to rooms that should be half the distance away.

Portal Gun: 1/10. No.

Smooth Jazz Chambers: 2/10. I know I had nice things to say about them initially, but over the course of 20,000 years I've had some time to think, and it seems the plants have too.

Cube Momentum: 2/10. Toxic goo, dangerous conditions, and did I mention that there have been holes in the roofs of these chambers the entire time?

Future Starter: 1/10. Also a no.

(Not counting the next 3 maps because they're not really designed to be solvable as much as they are for plot.)

Laser Intro: 1/10. HOW DID A SMALL BOX GET SMALLER.

Laser Stairs: 6/10. I think the Valve devs have been listening to me when I asked for even a little bit of compartmentalization and stairs, because they got that part right.

Double Laser: 5/10. Too small for me, but would make for a nice little fucked-up living room-hybrid or something. Put the couch on the elevated thing and watch TV up there and then head down to the kitchen embedded into the wall.

Laser Over Goo: 1/10. If a house "allows" you to swim in it within the vicinity of Aperture Labs, maybe not a good sign.

Catapult Intro: 1/10. Being realistic here, I would sooner be in a wheelchair than make it across the gap, for multiple reasons.

Trust Fling: 1/10. I could either break my legs, or dissolve them. It's a choice one has to make when living here.

"Pit Flings" (the Companion Cube Chamber): 6/10. A few renovations and stuff on the side would benefit this chamber, but it's at least salvageable compared to the other chambers in this segment of the game.

Fizzler Intro: 5/10. Suffers from the same problem as P1-09 because of the Aperture Science Household TSA Field slap-bang in the middle of the chamber. Minus that, though, and the chamber has some pleasant architecture.

Ceiling Catapult: 4/10. I ADORE the way this chamber is built, which is a real shame because the only way to get to that part of the chamber is by risking breaking VITAL bones.

Ricochet: 1/10. This is How A Man Dies

Bridge Intro: 3/10. I like the bridges made of light, but A) if I rubbed my cheek on one my hair would light on fire, and B) those bridges are there for a REASON and it's an evil one at that.

Bridge the Gap: 2/10. I try to move a couch and I immediately recreate that Terminator 2 scene

Turret Intro: 5/10. Same principle as P1-16. If you take the turrets out it's okay, but it's not as greatly compartmentalized as P1-16.

Laser Relays: 3/10. It's not very dangerous, but IT'S A BOX.

Turret Blockers: 6/10. This is one of those chambers that's rather appealing to make into a living space at first glance, but then you actually try and it's hard as all hell to design the interior. I can imagine a few living situations that are good, but overall it's very difficult to navigate if you place your furniture on the high spots and don't want to smack into a wall.

Laser vs. Turret: 8/10. A bit small, but that aside it's not really that bad. It's well compartmentalized, it's good for room design, and it's got everything you need. The only real problem is keeping the glass door open, and even then if the test is solved then you're pretty much good.

Pull the Rug: 4/10. Small and overall not dangerous, but I don't like the fact that a dude used to live in the walls here.

Column Blocker: 3/10. Too big, plus the turret is a hassle to remove. And the goo. Don't forget the goo.

Laser Chaining: 5/10. It allows for some creative room organization, maybe potential bridging from one platform to another during the renovation process(?) but overall a tedious and inconvenient one to navigate.

Triple Laser: 3/10. guys my chamber is a room with lasers and a pillar in it

Jail Break: 1/10. Idk, something seems suspicious about this one.

"The Last Test": 0/10. not this time motherfucker

P2 GlaDOS Room: 2/10. Not a room meant for interior design, nor compartmentalization. Kinda unsalvageable, especially with the gigantic, untouchable killer robot in the middle.

Repulsion Intro 1/2: 8/10. Honestly, not bad! The way the room is designed is actually quite convenient for travel. As for stairs, only one flight is needed thanks to the wonder of repulsion gel.

Repulsion Intro 2/2: 3/10. Compartmentalized alright, but overall risky and not worth it.

Bomb Flings: 8/10. It's not very organized as a potential home, but ignoring the large death pit, with some renovations it could become a great living space. Perhaps the setting for a rebellion base? Who knows?

Crazy Cube 1/2: 2/10. Small room with only a downpour of water to show for it.

Crazy Cube 2/2: 4/10. Not essential for setting up a living space, plus that giant cage in the middle is weird as hell.

Propulsion Intro: 2/10. Extremely inconvenient for navigation, as is pretty much every chamber in this set.

Propulsion Flings: 6/10. A pretty good chamber, and the best home imaginable if you're that guy from Diamond is Unbreakable.

Test: 1/10. No.

Funnel Intro: 2/10. It sure would suck to get stuck in one of those beams and get levitated to the top of the room. No getting down from there.

Ceiling Button: 1/10. You wanna See a Man Die? Is this what you want?

Wall Button: 1/10. This section of the game in general is just ridiculously dangerous to be in. I don't think I should be here.

Polarity: 1/10. All of these test chambers I'm ranking assuming I don't have a real portal gun, because who on earth does? All of these chambers COUNT on it.

Funnel Catch: 1/10. This chamber's ground is 90% air.

Stop the Cube: 6/10. This chamber is just barely inhabitable, but I will literally take this over ANY OTHER CHAMBER in this chapter.

Laser Catapult: 3/10. Another non-death barrier map, which still has some compartmentalization, but it's still awful for pretty much anything. Can't forget I'd be monitored by a mad robot bent on pretty much anything to get me to do a test.

Laser Platform: 1/10. Your death is 100% going to happen in this chamber if not anywhere else.

Propulsion Catch: 2/10. The only thing that redeems this test is the wonderful view of what could be my neighbor's house.

Repulsion Polarity: 1/10. Turrets, bottomless pit, and hell on earth.

Only 2 More Chambers: 1/10. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on the Aerial Faith Plate. Don't step on th

AND THUS, THAT CONCLUDES MY LIST. I'm gonna live outside now

#long post #portal #portal 2 #aperture laboratories

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reyescarlos · 4 years ago

Note

YES!!! 14 “Please don’t tell me you filmed that.” “Of course I filmed it.” for tarlos and maybe a little bit of that yeehaw firefam if you would be so kind thank you i love you

omg the shenanigans! thanks for getting me to branch out and attempt writing the rest of the crew! oh how i love the 126 🤠

#14 “Please don’t tell me you filmed that.” “Of course I filmed it.”

It’s become something of a custom for the 126 to gather outside of work. Where most people would be tired of seeing their co-workers constantly, the station’s team never seems to shy away from any excuse to extend their days. Even after a long shift, just the mere mention of plans gets the crew excited.

Owen affectionately calls it family time, an opportunity for the crew to get together periodically after shifts and try different activities together. TK can’t actually say he minds the opportunity to bond even further with the team. In a lot of ways, in almost no time at all, the 126 has come together and formed quite the family, one that TK is sincerely proud to be a part of.

As an only child, he’d spent a great deal of time on his own, admittedly curious about what it would have been like to have a big brother or sister looking out for him or even what it could be like to be an older brother himself. Life was funny in the way it brought the various members of the crew into his world. Now he knew precisely what it was like to be surrounded by siblings and all the highs and lows that came with that. They could bicker amongst themselves but at the end of the day, there was nothing but love between them all.

Outings like this, bowling on a Friday night after their shift, were moments that TK has quickly come to cherish. It’s made all the more special with tonight’s guest joining in on the fun. TK’s relationship with Carlos is still new, just a month and a half underway but without question the man’s presence is always a welcomed thing at any and all times.

Owen and Michelle head over to the stand to get food and drinks for everyone, the rest of the team piling into their seats. Marjan commandeers the center console, her eyes glossing over the buttons for a moment.

“I’d just like to go on record saying that bowling is not my thing,” Paul announces the second he flops into his seat.

“Josie still hasn’t managed to teach you?” Carlos asks.

Paul smiles and TK can’t help but to do the same. He was all too happy when Josie and Paul amended things, the two of them meeting up and having a serious conversation. It had been a tentative road, one that TK had worried Paul wouldn’t care to repair. He certainly wouldn’t have faulted Paul if he decided not to but TK had easily picked up on the chemistry between them and had been hopeful that one day they’d be able to reconnect.

It’d taken a few weeks for Paul to be open to the idea of putting his heart out there with Josie again and it seemed to be paying off now.

“We, uh, kinda get distracted during lessons,” Paul says with a shrug and a smirk.

“Alright, so you’re definitely not on my team then,” Marjan quips, double checking her laces on her rentals. “How about you, Carlos? Are you any good at bowling?”

“Yeah, I’ve been playing since I was a kid.”

Marjan grins. “Excellent, you’re with me then.”

TK raises a hand in protest. “Wait, wait, wait. You can’t just start stealing all the best players for your team.”

Marjan looks to the left, then the right, then back at him.

“Says who? That’s the whole point of calling dibs,” she says. “It’s not my fault you guys are just slow.”

TK jokingly narrows his eyes at her. “Alright, then we get Judd. We need at least one solid player on our team.”

Her mouth twists to one side in thought. “Fine, I’ll allow it. Judd, I wish your back well. It’s going to take a lot to carry your team.”

“What else is new?” Judd muses.

Paul places a hand over his heart. “Ice cold, Marwani. I knew you were competitive but damn, is it really like that?”

“Oh, that’s precisely how it is.”

Carlos laughs and shakes his head. “Who knew firefighters could be so vicious?”

“Marjan is the worst of all when it comes to games,” Mateo says. “But she’s pretty much undefeated so she’s doing something right.”

TK wishes he could argue the point but Marjan’s competitive nature always gives her an extra edge over the others. Sometimes he gets to bask in the warm glow of victory if they’re paired up. Other times he has to admit defeat.

“Alright, so what are the two teams looking like?” Mateo asks Marjan.

She starts typing in her name first. “So it’s me, you, Carlos, and I think we’ll snag Cap.”

“Pitting me against my father and my boyfriend? A little cruel, don’t you think?”

Marjan laughs. “Clearly I’m out to get you today.”

She continues typing in everyone’s names until all eight are on the board. “Cool, we’re good to go.”

Judd stands up first and gets his ball from the ball return. It’s a weighty all black ball that he sends flying down the lane without much buildup at all.

TK watches it streak down the lane, tipping over eight pins.

“That’s how you knock ‘em down,” he proudly boasts, turning back to the others.

Marjan rolls her eyes but TK can see she’s actually impressed with how well Judd has done right out of the gate. Mateo has his phone out, taking pictures and videos as he always does during their get togethers.

TK sits beside Carlos, placing his head on his shoulder as they all watch Judd set up his next frame. He can feel the press of Carlos’ lips against the crown of his head and he smiles to himself at the move. TK shifts and steals a kiss, a hand resting on Carlos’ chest.

“No fraternizing with the enemy,” Paul grumbles. “Don’t make me get a hose for you two. You know I can make that happen like that,” he says, snapping his fingers for emphasis.

The crew takes turns and before long, Marjan is calling TK up to take his turn. It strikes him how odd his feet feel inside of his rentals. The floor is so much smoother than he was anticipating and he glides a bit as he heads to the ball return.

“You alright there, Happy Feet?” Judd calls out, earning a few laughs from the team.

“I’ve got this,” TK assures, placing his fingers into the holes.

“Famous last words,” Marjan says at the same time as Paul who says, “Dead man walking.”

TK picks up his ball and draws in a breath as he raises in front of him. Bowling is not his forte. The last time he stepped foot in a bowling alley had to have been when he was in high school, if not junior high. He and his friends didn’t know or care to learn the rules and that suited him just fine. This was as simple a concept as any. Even little kids were capable of knocking over pins. Surely he, an adult, could do the same too without incident.

He studies the little arrows on the floor before him all pointing towards the pins as if he needed reminding on which direction to go. TK rolls his eyes at them and lowers his arm, swinging it back. As he goes to release the ball, his wrist locks a bit. His body tugs with the momentum and it dawns on TK that this is not about to end well for him.

The ball slips from his hand clumsily and in his haste to try and maintain control, his left foot slips. It happens in the blink of an eye, the time it takes for the ball to hit the wooden floor and for his butt to do the same.

Marjan’s cackle is the loudest of them all, practically filling every square inch of the bowling alley.

Carlos is beside him quickly, holding out a hand to help him up. TK’s face burns hot with embarrassment, his backside already aching. He looks to where his friends are, Mateo’s phone angled a little too perfectly at him.

There’s only one conclusion to draw from such a sight and TK, as foolish as it is, hopes against hope that he’s wrong.

“Please don’t tell me you filmed that.”

“Of course I filmed it, are you kidding me? I’m totally making this into a boomerang. That was gold,” Mateo laughs, shoving his phone towards the others and tapping the screen.

Judd is wiping away tears from his eyes, Marjan’s cheeks are flushed, and Paul is doubled over in his seat as they watch the video. To his credit, Carlos is doing his best not to join in but his cheekbones are raised so highly on his face, his lips pressed tightly together in a valiant effort to suppress a laugh.

“You too?” TK jokingly reprimands.

“I’m sorry but if you saw it go down like we did…,” he trails off, placing a kiss against TK’s temple.

TK groans and buries his face against the side of Carlos’ neck as he wraps an arm around his waist.

“What’s going on here? We leave you all for five minutes and you guys are falling to pieces,” Owen says, Michelle just a step behind him, their hands filled with packed trays of nachos and drinks.

“I got you, Cap. Look at this,” Mateo says a little too eagerly, surrendering his phone to Owen.

TK groans yet again and Carlos merely pulls him in a little closer as the team watches the two captains view the video. It’s mortifying but the crew relishes in it, watching eagerly. TK can hear the bowling ball thud and a second later himself. The laughter of the crew plays back, only this time with his own father’s laugh and Michelle’s joining the mix in real time.

“Is this online? That’s just what this station needs, another firefighter going viral.”

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #marjan marwani #paul strickland #judd ryder #mateo chavez #the 126 #pauline pocket #kimmy writes

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fangirlandiknowit101 · 3 years ago

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12, 14 and 18☺️

Thanks for asking <333

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

There's lots to be honest, but something I still can't believe I haven't written is a horse riding au. Like, that's half a lie bc I have a few thousand words written for a Simon/Baz horse rider au that I might never finish, but I'd really like to write one for Naruto. But I always decide not to because I don't know all the words and I hate googling stuff while I write. But one day! Surely!

14. If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

Honestly? Kirk and Spock. They'd find a way to get us out of there. And if not, it would at least be cool to meet them.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

You really had to pick such a difficult question... I can never decide on any particular line/scene. So I opened up The sun within me and looked at the chapters and thought I'd pick something that could be interesting to comment on. And in this case, it's a bit about how Naruto, Sasuke, and Charasuke have changed and their different relationships with each other. So! Here's a bit of commentary for a scene in chapter 40 (under the cut bc it's fairly long lol):

[For clarification, this is right after Naruto and Sasuke come back home from Sasuke's mission where he fought Menma and Menma then disappeared. I'm skipping ahead to the part where they arrive at the orphanage and Charasuke is waiting in their room (Naruto's POV). My comments will be written in bold text.]

The clone’s memories dropped into his head like a puff of smoke, and he groaned out loud, making a face. Sasuke gave him a concerned look, but Naruto sighed and shook his head.

“Let’s go,” he said, feeling very reluctant as he grabbed Sasuke’s arm.

He supposed he could have teleported them somewhere else, but Charasuke had seemed prepared to wait until they returned. Maybe Sasuke could deal with him while Naruto sort of… drifted away and hid in the kitchen.

Naruto is acting very childishly in this scene, mostly because he's still wary of Charasuke, and also because he's just spent two days in Sasuke's company but pretending to be Menma, which means no cuddles/kisses or anything. He's kind of clingy, isn't he? Haha. And also, he doesn't really want to admit to himself that Menma disappearing for Charasuke is the parallel to his worst fear, that Sasuke will disappear.

“Where is he?” Charasuke demanded the second they arrived in the bedroom.

“Ah, Sasuke, maybe you can explain?” he suggested, inching towards the door, but Sasuke nailed him to the floor with a single glare.

“He could be anywhere,” Sasuke said, continuing to glare until he was sure that Naruto wouldn’t escape. “I didn’t manage to get a good look through the portal.”

“The portal?” Charasuke seemed to waver, arms wrapped around himself as he looked between them. “Tell me what happened.”

You can tell that Sasuke has really started to care about Charasuke here. He's not entirely open with him yet, but he recognizes a lot of himself in Charasuke and he puts himself in Menma's position, thinking about when he left the village and Naruto was left behind. He doesn't want Charasuke to hurt the way he knows Naruto was hurting back then.

While Sasuke described the mission, including what he called ‘Naruto’s dumb interference’, Naruto dug through his closet for the shirt he would make Sasuke wear. He was absolutely sure that Sasuke would argue about it – especially since he’d sent a clone to Akatsuki and not himself – but if he talked fast enough and relented that it would be enough if Sasuke slept in it for one night…

“He really is gone, then,” Charasuke said, his voice toneless. “I’ll never see him again.”

“I’m sure you’ll see him again,” Naruto said, contemplating the pros and cons of a t-shirt versus long sleeves. “Whoever grabbed him and hauled him off probably just wanted to keep him out of Sasuke’s reach. He gets awfully strong when he’s irritated.”

Naruto is definitely acting a bit heartless here, again, because he doesn't want to think about his own feelings or feel forced to recognize that Charasuke is a person Sasuke cares about, that he should also care about. I think he can get a bit closed off when there's too much going on in his own life, and that makes it hard to focus on other people, especially since he still wants to leave the other dimension and doesn't want to think about Sasuke caring about his family here - meaning Sasuke might want to stay.

When he turned back from the closet, he found Sasuke giving him a disappointed look.

“What?”

“You’re taking this lightly,” he said, glancing at the shirt in Naruto’s hand and apparently deciding to ignore it.

“Well, unless we figure out how to dimension-hop after him, I don’t think there’s a lot we can do.”

Now that he was back to being himself, all Naruto really wanted was to curl up in bed with Sasuke and not think about the outside world at all. Charasuke, on the other hand, seemed on the verge of tears.

“And what would you have done if I was the one who disappeared?” Sasuke asked, an icy note to the question.

“How would I know? It hasn’t happened yet.”

A bit of foreshadowing lol. Except Sasuke is the one left reacting when Naruto leaves, but Naruto really is trying to keep a tight grip in his emotions here and absolutely not think about the fact that Sasuke could have disappeared with Menma, and he wouldn't have known what happened to him.

“You could have let me follow after him and we’d know where he went.”

Naruto straightened up, face hardening.

“No, you might have known where he went, but the rest of us wouldn’t. Besides, he was trying to kill you. I went through too much trouble to keep you alive to just let you jump into some unknown enemy territory.”

As you can see, putting a lot of emphasis on Naruto's fear of losing Sasuke again.

Silent tears now streaming down his cheeks, Charasuke sat down on the bed and clenched his fists over his lap. It was obvious that he didn’t like what they were saying, but Naruto pushed his feelings of sympathy aside. Sasuke was his top priority, and that hadn’t changed simply because there was another one of him now.

“I told him I never want to see him again,” Charasuke sniffled, and it was really disturbing to watch someone with Sasuke’s face – well, a version of Sasuke, really – crying out in heartache.

Meanwhile poor Charasuke is having a background breakdown. To Naruto, it's hard to see a version of Sasuke like this. Charasuke is coming face to face with the realization that he's A: definitely not over Menma, B: he really handled things badly and never even stopped to think about why Menma was doing things.

“If he survives, you can apologize,” Naruto told him, trying to sound comforting. “Hell knows Sasuke said a lot worse stuff to me.”

To his great surprise, Sasuke went over to sit beside Charasuke, frowning as his hand twitched to reach out to him.

“This isn’t about you and me, Naruto,” he said, settling for an awkward hand on Charasuke’s shoulder. “And it could be our fault, anyway.”

“You know, Sasuke,” Naruto said as the initial shock wore off, “that sounds scarily like you’ve started caring about other people.”

Naruto and Sasuke having a small fight about Charasuke... Naruto knew Sasuke cared about Charasuke, but this is when he realizes that Charasuke is becoming a person that Sasuke wants to protect. And for Sasuke it's a small step towards opening his heart for more people than just Naruto. Sasuke is honestly mad at Naruto for taking things so lightly, for treating this other dimension as something that doesn't affect them. Besides, I really wanted Charasuke to be comforted by Sasuke haha.

Charasuke kept crying, and the look Sasuke directed at him clearly said what he thought of Naruto right then.

“Moron. I care about other people, just not anyone in our own dimension.”

Naruto knew that to be a lie, but decided not to say anything. Having Sasuke admitting to something like having feelings was a huge enough step on its own. Instead he sighed, grabbed something to sleep in, and headed for the door.

“I’ll just sleep on a couch,” he mumbled.

Does Sasuke care about anyone back in their own dimension? Maybe, but you wouldn't really see him act like this with canon Sakura, not before they left for the RTN dimension at least. It's a big thing that Sasuke is starting to voice his feelings out loud, and acknowledge them more. Naruto is feeling jealous actually, because he wanted to finally have Sasuke to himself, and also he feels guilty for being jealous, and also he's hoping that if he pouts enough Sasuke will comfort him instead of Charasuke lol. Not always the most mature person, but who is?

Coward, Kurama accused as he headed towards the living room, but Naruto was too tired to argue with him. Something about Charasuke always rubbed him wrong, and maybe it had to do with how he displayed his emotions openly and so obviously thought of himself as weak. If Sasuke wanted to handle it, fine. Naruto didn’t have the patience for people who sat around crying, and a small part of him didn’t like that he had such problems with caring about Menma, either. Menma had everything, a loving family, a Sasuke who cared about him, but he was still feared and treated differently. Even in this world people treated the bijuu as something dangerous, and he wondered how much of the whole story of them losing consciousness and turning into beasts was true, and how much was justification to treat them badly.

It's a bit of 'my problems are worse than yours so you shouldn't be so upset'. In the movie, we really got to see how much it hurt Naruto to see this other world where he had everything he wanted, and then acknowledge that it wasn't real. Even if he can recognize that the bijuu were still treated badly here, he can't quite make peace with the way Charasuke and Menma can't appreciate what they have. It makes it really hard for him to sympathize with them.

Am I supposed to feel touched? Kurama snorted as Naruto rearranged pillows into an acceptable bed on one couch. You didn’t care much for us either before you figured out the truth.

No, but everything was supposed to be the opposite here, right? Well, this part isn’t the opposite, it’s the same.

Between one heartbeat and the next, Naruto blinked his eyes open in front of Kurama’s open cage. There was water sloshing around his ankles, and everything was clouded in some sort of yellowish haze.

“Oh, come on,” he complained, but Kurama tsk’ed at him with his head supported by one giant paw.

“I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something, kid.”

“Uh-huh, well I don’t know about you but I want to sleep.”

Kurama reached out and poked him in the stomach with a sharp claw, eyes narrowing to slits. Even if they were friends, Naruto didn’t feel like testing the limits of that friendship with those claws so close to him.

“Sometimes you say things in such a stupid voice that I miss how important it might be. Now shut up and listen,” Kurama growled, three of his tails swishing angrily behind him. “This world is supposed to be opposite, right?”

“I don’t know, but everything seems opposite.”

“Let’s pretend we know it’s true. So, everything and everybody is the opposite more or less. But, the prejudice against the bijuu is still there. And we were told that it was only recently that they became unable to control. So, where does that leave us?”

Naruto pouted, not bothering to answer. Obviously Kurama already knew what he wanted to say.

“I think it means that anything that is the same, is something that somebody has tampered with.”

I was going to do more with this, but it was also a bit of 'what sort of theories would they have for what was really going on?' and this one is accurate in a way, because Hagoromo did tamper with the bijuu which in turn made them become feared and badly treated. So it's definitely hinting at there being someone behind the scenes manipulating the bijuu.

“Huh?”

Kurama rolled his eyes, sighing so deeply that Naruto felt the wind from it tear at his clothes.

“Think, boy! If this is a mirror-world or whatever, people shouldn’t be afraid of me and my siblings. But they are, and it only started a while ago. Obviously someone made us go crazy. And Menma has me inside him, but a crazy version of me, so wouldn’t it be logical that whoever did something to the me inside Menma, could also do something to Menma?”

He thought about it, hard enough that his head started hurting. Sasuke would probably know, but he was busy with Charasuke.

“I guess,” he said eventually, huffing a little. “But even if you’re right, it doesn’t help us figuring out who’s behind it all.”

“Does it matter?” Kurama scoffed, and then his lips spread in a terribly evil grin. “We’re going to kill them anyway, aren’t we?”

“This is why you have such a bad reputation,” Naruto sighed.

Kurama only laughed.

I really love Kurama... His and Naruto's weird friendship gives me life. His solutions to problems are always very straightforward heh.

Well, that's that :3

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kayrogers · 4 years ago

Text

sugar baby ][ r. drysdale

50 shades / CEO au

Paring(s): ceo!ransom x curator!reader

Inspo: the embarrassing amount of ransom smut I've read

Word Count: 2300+

Warning(s): cursing, implied smut, unequal power-dynamic, mention of kinks, and ransom being the hot douche he is

Part: part 1 | part ??

A/N: imma be real with y’all I saw knives out in theaters like three times and I am absolute ransom trash, I apologize

It was already a shitty day.

By the time you had reached Thrombey Selects, you were on the verge of frustrated tears and you hadn’t even gone into your interview yet.

Your day started normal enough, you prepared for your interview and organized your portfolio about ten different times before you could run out the door. Coffee was a better option than actual food for breakfast as the thing really filling your stomach was anxiety. You had only gotten your masters recently and it was a miracle that you were given an interview at Thrombey Selects, only having pulled together minimal art galleries — most of which were done as part of getting your degree in the first place.

Then there was the subway. It felt like it took forever to get to the Lower East Side, especially being sat between two men with no concept of personal space and a snot-nosed two year old giving you a stink eye across the aisle. And to make matters worse you got a coffee spilled on your dress right as you walked off the train. The woman who spilled it actually had the audacity to scream at your face, and say it was your fault, like she wasn’t nose-deep in her phone. Luckily, you had left your apartment super early and you stopped at the nearest department store you could find. A too-expensive little black dress later and you were on your way to Thrombey Selects. And then it down poured and by the time you walked into the building, every inch of you was drenched in water.

You took a deep breath, approaching the receptionist with rain droplets falling from your hair and onto the floor. She looked up at you with an unimpressed gaze, stating that you’d be meeting with a Mr. Drysdale ‘whenever he felt like showing up’. You weren’t exactly sure what that meant but you took it as a chance to dry off.

Stepping away towards an empty hallway you were quick to work, taking up residence next to a decorative plant and ringing your hair out into the pot. Taking off your cardigan was the most work, the grey material sticking to your skin like glue. You undoubtedly looked like a madman, wrestling to get the knit off and finally slicking it onto the floor to reveal the tight little number you bought.

“Quite the weather, huh?” A deep male voice said from behind you.

You jumped and nearly tripped over your heels as you turned around to find the source. That source being a very gorgeous man with piercing blue eyes. He had a confident smirk and carved features, it was almost like he was created by a sculptor in Rome.

“Oh- oh my gosh! Sorry, I um yeah... kinda got caught in the rain.” You blush with a sigh, still taking in the stranger’s appearance.

He dressed sharp, yet casual. Adorning himself in a black turtleneck and pants, accompanied by a brown trench coat and Chelsea boots. The accessory on him which drew the most attention though was a large, flowery scarf. You suddenly felt very aware of the less glamorous state of your dress and reached for the cardigan you so ungraciously plopped on the floor.

“You’re [Y/n], right? [Y/n] [Y/l/n]?” He shamelessly looked you up and down while saying that, only making you blush more.

“How do you know my-“

“Because I’m interviewing you. The name is Hugh Ransom Drysdale, but you can just call me Ransom. The help call me Hugh.” His lips curled into a wide smirk and he shook your hand as it changed into a white-toothed grin.

‘The help’ stuck in your head for a moment and nearly made you frown. Any man who talked like that came from money, lots of money. And he clearly wasn’t the type to be polite about it.

“Let’s head up to my office, Honey.” And with that the two of you were on your way.

You could help but feel his eyes on you with every step you took, each click of your heels hitting the floors like a deafening clock. He opens a door to reveal a sleek, modern office room complete with a portrait of Harlan Thrombey on the back wall. You would recognize that face anywhere after reading his novels repeatedly, his picture always located in the back. He was the reason you applied here in the first place, he was passionate and creative. Any man like him would be expected to have a taste for the arts.

Ransom took his seat behind the desk and you sat in front of him gripping your portfolio tightly while he pulled out a Manila file.

“It’s interesting that grandad picked you for the interview... from the looks of it, you’re extremely under qualified compared to the rest of the staff.” Ransom immediately listed off in a twisted tone, dismissive and intrigued all at once.

You pulled a tight-lipped smile, “and yet, here I am.”

He looked up from the file, blue eyes shooting into your own holding intent you could not read. The smirk appeared on his face once more.

“Tell me about yourself, [Y/n]. I want a better understanding.” You suddenly felt small in that moment, you knew what he was actually telling you.

‘Show me why I should give a fuck about you.’

“Uh- well I’m a hard worker. I come from a low income family so I’ve been working since I was 14, in my mom’s diner. I still serve to keep up with rent, but that’s at a classier place no offense to my mom. Art has um always been my passion though... I’m sorry, am I doing this right?” You bit your lip, staring across to see Ransom sporting a sneaky smile you didn’t understand.

“How bout I help you along? Are you prepared for a lot of physical work? How much do you exercise a week? I know you may think being one of our curators is easy work, but I like to run things differently here.” That confuses you.

You know how curation works, hell it’s why you got your degree but the only physical thing you ever did was hang paintings on a wall.

“Uh- I mean I workout when I can but I’m pretty busy. I serve so I get a lot of time on my feet. But, I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me!” You answered honestly and watched as he quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can Miss [Y/l/n]. So... any significant others?” Warmth filled your face at his question.

“No I am single- sorry I just don’t understand what this has to do with being a curator.” You finish with a smile to hide how unsure you were.

Ransom just grins back, “oh that is because I am opting you for a better position. Higher up, better pay grade, and more personal work with me. Here take a look,” He reaches into his desk and pulls out a black file, tossing it to you.

Opening the folder shows you a contract that makes your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

‘Sugar Baby’ is in bold at the top.

Reading through, you become flustered seeing the requirements and perks. The pay is definitely better, but is it worth the submissive role he intends you to play? Calling him ‘Sir’? Your cheeks burn as you keep flicking through, seeing all his kinks and desires written in ink. The particular emphasis on bondage and the sub/dom dynamic made heat pool between your legs. You run your thighs together in instinct, missing how his eyes light up at the response.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. In fact, my cell is on there, take a few days to look it over and text me. If not, I can still offer you that basic paid internship of a position.” His eyes were intense when they met yours, hiding the gears which were in overdrive behind their deep blue.

He was manipulating you and he wasn’t even shy about it. You were ashamed to think that you didn’t mind it. This was insane! Completely unethical and gross, but you found yourself considering the position all the same. Especially given the rut you found yourself in for quite a while now in the sex department. Graduating and entering your career didn’t leave much time for any sexual encounters, excluding your dominant hand.

“Yeah- uhm I’ll definitely have to get back to you. Not that I’m not interested-“ Your voice betrayed you, coming out quiet and almost naive.

“- it’s a lot. Sleep on it, Babe.” He stood up and you took that as your signal to leave which you were thankful for.

“Thank you, Mr- sorry.. Ransom.” You stood as well, closing the folder and holding it tightly in your hands.

You move to grab your sopping cardigan but he scoops it up before you can.

“I’ll have our dry cleaners handle this, don’t need a potential employee getting pneumonia today. Take my jacket, I’m sure I’ll be getting it back soon.” He matter-of-factly states and hands you his trench coat.

You sling it on, feeling small in the garment made for the clearly muscular man. Even in your heels he towered over you.

“Thank you.” There’s a small smile on your face and you head towards the door.

He walks behind you, his hand finding the small of your back as he opens the office door for you.

“Can’t wait to hear from you, Miss [Y/l/n].” Ransom’s voice is low and his breath fans on the back of your neck as you exit and the door clicks behind you.

It was about 11 PM in your apartment as you sat on your bed thinking of perhaps the longest pro-con list you could with a glass of wine in hand.

You had been surfing on your laptop, gathering as much information as you could about Ransom Drysdale and the idea of being a ‘sugar baby’.

‘Pros: He’s gorgeous. We have a lot of the same kinks. It’s a lot more money than the internship. I’ll probably get some nice clothes out of this. I can stop waitressing. He’s really really hot. I have the opportunity to live my dream and work at my dream company, and get some good sex on the side.’ You thought, biting your lip and thinking too much about what he looked like without clothes on.

‘Cons: this is a very unprofessional proposition and definitely a little demeaning. He’s clearly a douche. The ‘help’ comment. I don’t know if he even is that good in bed. I don’t really know this man at all and now I’m basically signing a portion of my life to him. If he doesn’t think I’m good in bed, am I getting fucked over??’ You took a large gulp of wine, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Ransom’s crystalline eyes stared back at you through the screen, the picture from a Ralph Lauren photo shoot.

“Fuck, he’s a model too.” You muttered with a groan.

Of all the valid negatives that filled your mind, the heat pooling below your stomach at the thought of him taking control of you and your life felt much stronger. Were you a little messed up to even be considering this so heavily?? Fuck, probably.

But even so, the idea tantalized you in such a way that had you reaching for the folder to read through his demands once again.

You didn’t quite like the demands of you working out 4 times a week and completely overhauling your diet. Sure, you probably shouldn’t have been eating the amount of microwaveable and junk foods you usually did but that's none of his business! But perhaps these things could be amenable within the contract? You decided you wouldn’t take part unless they were.

But most importantly, you wouldn’t decide on anything without a good night’s sleep.

The next morning you stared at the contract as though it were the most important thing you could sign in your life. A weight settled on your shoulders and you avoided the piece of paper for the rest of the morning. Instead you decided to run through your daily routine, taking a shower and getting dressed for the day. You made yourself a cup of coffee and stared at your small apartment with a slight frown.

Reality rushed through you as you realized the position you were in before this opportunity presented itself. You have tremendous debt from school, even with the scholarships you had received. The shoebox you lived in was already barely affordable while you practically worked yourself to death at the upscale bar-restaurant you were currently employed with. The idea that you could leave all this and live lavishly on the payroll of one of the wealthiest families in New York, was one which had been growing on you enormously.

Impulsively, you grabbed your phone and typed his phone number into your messages.

‘Hello, Mr. Drysdale. Or I guess I should say, Ransom.

This is [Y/n] [Y/l/n]. I have thought over your offer and though I have a few concerns with certain aspects of the contract... I would be glad to talk them over with you and get to an agreement we are both comfortable with. I am indeed interested in this position.

When would you like to go over the details?’

You typed out the message, writing in the most professional manner you could (despite the content of the proposal). Pressing the send button sent a series of sparks through your skin and up your spine, butterflies filling your stomach.

Within minutes though, there was a response.

‘Saturday night. Be ready at 7 PM sharp. I will send a car for you. Can’t wait ;)’

----------------------------------------------------------

taglist(s):

sugar baby -

permanent -

@ultrunning @jesseswartzwelder

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out imagine #chris evans imagine #ceo au #50 shades au #sugar daddy au

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realme-media · 6 months ago

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Prestige City Hyderabad | Offers Residential Project

Introduction

Prestige City Hyderabad is a landmark residential project positioned inside the prime place of Rajendra Nagar, Hyderabad. Helmed by the esteemed Prestige Group, this self-contained, excessive-profile residential network offers a blend of luxury villas and excessive-upward push residences. Spanning 14 blocks and soaring as much as 41 stories, the project accommodates 119 luxurious villas and 4647 residences, offering configurations of 1 BHK, 2 BHK, 3BHK, and 4 BHK. Equipped with clever home automation and modern facilities, it guarantees a lifestyle of comfort, luxurious, and elegance.

Location Advantages

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Vaastu Shastra

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The project offers a whole lot of ground plans to cater to the one-of-a-kind circles of relatives' sizes and preferences. The luxury villas are available in 4 BHK configurations, supplying spacious residing regions and private gardens. The excessive-rise flats are available in 1 BHK, 2 BHK, 3 BHK, and 4 BHK configurations, every thoughtfully designed to maximize area and comfort. The grasp plan includes properly deliberate internal roads, inexperienced areas, and recreational areas, growing a vibrant and cohesive network.

Conclusion

Prestige City Hyderabad stands as a testament to the Prestige Group's determination to develop exceptional residing areas. With its top vicinity, top-notch connectivity, cutting-edge amenities, and adherence to Vaastu ideas, the project offers a great combination of luxury, comfort, and well-being. Whether you're looking for a spacious villa or an elegant flat, it guarantees a way of life of unparalleled elegance and comfort.

#Prestige City Hyderabad #Prestige City Hyderabad Price List #Prestige City Hyderabad Location #Prestige City Hyderabad Details

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para-imperium · 3 years ago

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Horizon: Salvaged Heroes, Ch. 14

Skeletal integrity 80%

Internal organs 63%

Cyberbrain activity Muted

Magnetic Resonance field detected

Searching for Federation IFF signals

IFF NOT FOUND

Initializing wake sequence.

Horizon’s eyes shot open, she found herself surrounded on all sides by white lights and translucent curved walls. A dull droning irritated her ears, only adding to her growing feelings of claustrophobia. She reached a stiff hand out towards the nearest wall, provoking a sharp pain that caused her to cry out.

“She’s awake now?!” A high-pitched voice called out, she didn’t recognize it, but still it sounded somewhat familiar. The scuffling of feet approached her, making the raccoon all too aware of how badly she was still injured.

Despite the pain Horizon lifted a foot and found that the glowing cylinder that enclosed her was open below her knees. She started to slide out of the tube against the wishes of her aching muscles and burning bones. Whoever was out there, she was still a super soldier with the most advanced tech in the star system.

She slipped off a narrow table and slumped onto a cold tiled floor. As her eyes adjusted she blinked away tears and took in her apparent assailants. Red buttoned-up longcoats, polymer gloves and oronasal face masks, her shadow suggested a frontier biological containment team, but her own memories came up with an alternative evaluation.

“You’re Friendly Society Healers, aren’t you?” She gasped, clutching the side of the table she’d just fallen off of in an attempt to hold herself up.

The red-coated doctors nodded, one of them spoke up. “Mx. Loter, please, we’re trying to help you.”

Horizon cracked her neck to the side, she felt the burning she had come to associate with active leukosynths. “I’ll be fine, just let me rest a while longer.”

Somebody else ran up to the door. That almost familiar voice called out again. “Tanya, it’s okay!” She scanned the newcomer, phenotypically female, rodentia with stark white fur and tufted ears, hints of a long fluffy tail behind her. “It’s me,” she said, “Jenny, from school?”

Tanya’s eyes widened. “Jenyfer Ratufa? When did you change your fur?” The squirrel she remembered was maroon, brown, and yellow-furred, with several piercings in her ears.

Jenny came out from behind the FS Healers, now that she had a good look at her former classmate she could make out several patterns painted onto her fur, which was not only white but much thicker than she remembered. “Yeah, well, Surtur is a lot colder than Jord’s orbitals. We got spliced with arctic hares on the way here.” She was wearing a short black skirt and a t-shirt printed with anti-government slogans that only half-covered her rounded belly.

The raccoon grinned, Jenny might look superficially different, but clearly she was still the same rebel without a cause she’d known as a teenager. “So, what’ve you been up to all these years?” She asked, trying not to stare and failing.

“What’ve I been up to?” The arctic squirrel asked. “At the gs you were pulling we should have been draining soup out of that escape pod of yours! I mean, I’ve got some pretty extreme mods,” she slapped her stomach for emphasis. “But you’re something else.”

Horizon’s shadow took in visuals and sonographic data and calculated that whatever was making that bulge in Jenny’s waist, it wasn’t a normal fetus. A weight she hadn’t realized was gripping her heart was lifted in a millisecond. But before she asked, the cyborg raccoon tried to think of a way to deflect her suspicions. “I was a scrapper, we came across a cache of Fedtech that included some of their immortality nanobots.”

“I’ll say.” Jenny replied. “Among other things. I didn’t know they still plated skeletons.”

A twinge of paranoia arose in Horizon’s augmented brain. “What else do you know about my mods?”

One of the healers pulled out a tablet and scrolled along the screen. “We could tell just from lifting you onto a stretcher than your skeleton had been reinforced with some unidentified alloy. As we were trying to set what we thought were broken bones we encountered resistance from bent metal rods. Many of your soft tissues also felt spongy. Your post-recovery rate of healing was consistent with leukosynth activity and the blood samples we took contained metallic particles similar to deconstructed nanomachines.” He looked back up. “Though we’re wondering how your bones apparently fixed themselves.”

The posthuman raccoon considered it for a moment, there shouldn’t be too much harm letting them know about her skeleton. “Nickel-titanium, returns to a set shape after heat is applied.”

“Oh right, memory metal.” Another healer chimed in. “Would explain the fever. You have another implant in there for thermoregulation?”

Horizon gave half a nod. “It’s probably part of my BCI. I’d rather you not poke at it though, I don’t know what it would do.”

“Wait,” Jenny cut in. “You mean you put Fedtech in your brain? Don’t you know what could have happened?”

“Yes,” Tanya thought, thinking of Lift and MechRat, and everything they’d been through. “I do now, but I didn’t have much choice at the time. There were some drones in the cache we found, they activated and then…” She shrugged, she didn’t know how much more she wanted to say in front of these strangers. “Well there’s a reason I was the only one left on board that ship.”

“Oh, damn.” The white squirrel sidled up next to Tanya and carefully sat down, reaching out a comforting arm. “I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea.”

The raccoon took the proffered arm and pulled herself up. “It’s not your fault. Like you said, you didn’t know.” She sat on the table she’d just fallen off of, feeling the cold metal against her fur.

“I know.” Jenny laid her arm over Tanya’s shoulder, hesitated for a second, then placed her hand carefully on her upper arm. “Would you like a gown or something?”

Tanya glanced down and it finally registered to her that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. She’d been so preoccupied with the broken state of her body to register how exposed it was. Her bones had clearly straightened themselves out, but she could see many of them through her skin. Aside from her stomach, which protruded from under her ribs, she was practically skin and bones, she looked emaciated. “What… happened here?” She swept a hand down her front.

One of the healers approached, slowly, cautiously. “So far as we can tell your leukosynths cannibalized your muscle tissue to rebuild your vital organs. It’s not unheard of for the body to do that naturally but that usually takes weeks of starvation or coma, you’ve only been unconscious for four days.”

“Four days?” Horizon inquired. “What happened with Surt traffic control?”

“Not much.” Jenny replied. “They shot down a few of the big pieces of your ship that were getting too close, but they basically gave you up for dead. The Friendlies only grabbed your capsule because I asked them to.”

“Really?” Tanya was surprised. “You did that?”

“Yeah.” The squirrel nodded. “The Companyhere is pretty useless, we have to look out for each other.”

Horizon mentally reviewed what she knew about Surt’s government. Corporate structure, non-familial, tiered citizenship. At least half the population at any given time were estimated to be non-citizens from further in-system. She got the feeling there was something she was missing though. “Sounds like a long story.” She said. “Maybe we could talk about it someplace more comfortable, after I get some clothes?”

The healers nodded quickly and backed out of the doorway. One came back shortly after carrying a folded gown with floral prints, holding it out at arm’s length. Horizon accepted it and threw it on, letting her tail stick out the back. “There’s a cafeteria down the hall,” they said. “I suggest one of the high-protein shakes.” Then they left.

“Sheesh, rude.” Jenny commented. “It’s not like you’re a ghul or anything.”

Tanya staggered out into the hall, supported by her old friend. Five minutes later they made it into a room with two long tables in the middle and a row of vending machines along the wall. Jenny sat the raccoon down at one table and then grabbed a couple plastic cups from the drink dispenser, one she set under a nozzle that dispensed a thick brown fluid, the other she filled with a steaming liquid that smelled like tea with some sort of fruit. The squirrel set the two cups on the table in front of the raccoon, explaining that the thicker fluid was a protein shake, then she went over to another machine with a stylized wrap sandwich on the front panel and started entering something into the controls. As Jenny bent over Horizon’s eyes were unconsciously drawn up her tail, her mouth started to water… and then she consciously registered the smell of reheated meat and melted cheese.

Jenny walked over with a pair of wraps that were so wide they looked too large to hold in one hand. “Not sure if you can handle solid foods yet, I’ll eat the other one if you’re not up for it.”

Horizon slurped up a mouthful of the shake and cringed at the taste, chocolate with a strong metallic aftertaste. Quickly she grabbed a wrap and tore off a large chunk of it, she worked the morsel around in her mouth vigorously before swallowing. “I don’t care whether my stomach can digest it, I think I’ve suffered enough without tasting that.” She flicked the rim of the cup with her claw, then started digging into the rest of the wrap.

“Wow,” Jenny noted. “Guess you really were hungry. You remind me of myself just after I got my biocomputer seeded.”

“What?” Horizon asked, head cocked in confusion.

The squirrel leaned back and pointed down towards her abdomen. “This is not your run-of-the-mill pregnancy. There’s a cybernetic biocomputer in here, wired into my nervous system. Kind of a secondary brain.”

The raccoon’s mouth gaped open in surprise. Her sensory processing systems could tell that whatever was in her friend’s uterus wasn’t a fetus, but this was beyond thinkable. “Why would you do that?” She asked.

“It helps a lot with multi-tasking.” Jenny replied. “I’ve got a full BCI suite installed on both brains so I can do next to anything online if I want to. Though, it can take a while for me to make up my minds, it has to go through nearly double the average amount of gray matter. Honestly I’m a bit disappointed on that front.”

“Okay, but, why?” Horizon asked again. “Why would you go through the effort to do that?”

Jenny adopted a stern expression all of a sudden. “Okay,” she paused for several seconds, collecting her thoughts. “What do you know about transhumanism?”

“They’re a bunch of people who like to get as many augs as they can get their hands or mechanical digits on?” Horizon suggested. “I’ve never understood the name anyways, we’re not human.”

“We’re parahuman, nearly human.” Jenny interjected. “Even spacers share more than 98% of their DNA with ancient Terran plains apes, this fur, these ears, this tail.” She pointed out the organs in question as she spoke. “They account for little more than a few sentences worth of codons. Furthermore, we still think and act like humans. The “Federation” was just a Terran-style empire on a galactic scale, there were ancient polities on Terra that outlived itand they didn’t have leukosynths.”

“And transhumanists?” Horizon inquired.

“We seek to become not simply adjacent to humanity, but something much much more.” Jenny was starting to sound like some of the demagogues she remembered from Jord. “We seek to become smarter, faster, wiser than human so we can avoid making the same mistakes they did. We might even become posthuman someday.”

That last sentence elicited a snort from the raccoon. “Posthumans? What, like cyberliches, gestalts, and ghuls? They’re just myths.” But as the words left her lips Tanya felt her stomach tighten around the meal she’d just devoured, and the orb she’d hidden there. Jenny’s comment about the healers’ cautious approach to her, the stories she’d heard about parahumans risen from the dead with a cannibalistic appetite that drove them to terrorize their friends and families…

She directed her shadow to bring up any information her implants had on ghuls. In a split second she saw an article in her field of view.

Ghul: noun, slang. Term for a sufferer of Leukosynth Metastatic Autophagy (LMA).

Leukosynth Metastatic Autophagy: A condition resulting from a malfunction in leukosynths, usually as a result of software tampering and severe physical trauma. The patient’s leukosynths put their self-replication protocols into overdrive, replicating at an unsustainable rate and dismantling their host’s own tissues for raw materials. This often induces cravings for protein in the patient that may result in cannibalistic actions without proper memetic conditioning.

Leukosynth replication: INACTIVE.

The alert came up unprompted, but Horizon was glad of it. She let out a sigh of relief that interrupted Jenny’s ongoing spiel, she hadn’t been paying attention.

“...and after Lord Evlanche had been confirmed vaporized he, are you listening?” The squirrel paused, looking the raccoon over.

“Sorry,” Horizon started to explain. “My shadow just explained that no, I am not a ghul. It’s a real relief.”

“Oh don’t worry about the healers.” Jenny tried to reassure her. “They’re just a little wary of unknown Fedtech with miraculous properties.” She blinked as something else registered. “Wait, you’ve got an AI shadow? Is it Turing?”

“It’s kind of like an artificial subconscious.” Horizon replied. “Most of the time I don’t even notice it’s there. It just pops up information when I need it, and I suddenly have a lot of skills that I never had the time to learn the conventional way.” She snickered. “I am proficient in every martial art from Terran Kung Fu to Centauran filament fencing.”

“Oh wow!” Jenny leaned over the table, putting her snout less than a meter from Tanya’s muzzle. “That’s way more than anyone I know has accomplished. You might be the closest thing to posthuman I’ve ever seen. You’ve got to let me take a look at your augs!” She reached out for the raccoon’s face.

“No!” Horizon blurted out abruptly, reflexively grabbing the squirrel’s hand before it touched her furred cheeks. “I might not be a ghul, but they’re real. And they result from people messing with their leukosynths. Please don’t go poking around my brain.”

“Oh,” Jenny sounded quite disappointed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that. Could you at least tell me how your brain survived the deceleration from that blast? And, let go of my hand?”

Horizon realized she was gripping her old friend’s wrist a bit tightly, it was folded at an awkward angle that looked painful. “Sorry,” she released it and the squirrel pulled it back to inspect. The raccoon sent her shadow an inquiry about her brain, specifically how it was protected.

Cyberbrain composition: CLASSIFIED INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE

“Sorry, can’t tell you about my brain.” Horizon apologized again. “It looks like my implants might not know how it’s built.”

“Wow, that’s weird.” Jenny cocked a tufted ear. “Where did you say you got these augs again?”

Horizon thought about it for a minute, then decided to tell a half-truth. “Some sort of automated medical center. An autodoc installed them, I was unconscious the whole time.”

“Huh.” Jenny considered the situation her school friend presented, then after a minute she got up. “I’ll get us some more wraps.” As the machine prepared her order she abruptly perked up and turned back to Horizon. “Any idea what you’ll do now?’

The raccoon shrugged. “None. I was planning to find a new crew and go back to the Belt, but my ship exploded so that plan’s scuttled.”

Jenny pulled three more wraps out of the machine and set them on the table. “Well, I might have taken you up on the offer, but there’s precious few othershere who’ve managed to escape their employment contracts alive. And the Company doesn’t like private ship sales so I’m afraid it’s unlikely you can find a replacement ship.” She dug into one of her wraps.

Horizon chugged a mouthful of her shake and chased it with half a wrap. “So what do you do for a living?” She asked.

“Some consulting work.” Jenny replied sheepishly. “Mostly volunteer work with the Friendlies.” She smirked conspiratorially. “Some of it paid.”

Horizon thought as she chewed, it was starting to look like flying to Surt was a mistake, but it was too late for that now. Her possibilities weren’t great, it sounded like there was only one real choice. She swallowed. “Do the Friendlies need pilots by any chance?”

Almost the end of book 1. Next week will be a short epilogue followed by an interstitial story the week after. I hope you'll stick around until Book 2 is ready.

#superheroes #serial fiction #sci fi #transhumanism #fiction #short story

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infinitevariety · 4 years ago

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Firefly

It’s always hit and miss, watching TV shows with Aziraphale. Crowley lives for the thrill of the unknown. Will Aziraphale hate it and complain all the way through? Or will he love it and not shut up about all the ways in which it’s brilliant?

Aziraphale had hated Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He’d claimed all the characters were evil in one way or another and doomed to hell. Despite how many times they literally avoided that by keeping a hellmouth closed.

On the other hand, Aziraphale had loved The Umbrella Academy, finding all the characters delightful and declaring the whole show an utter delight.

It’s always all or nothing with Aziraphale. The only anomaly was The Good Place. Aziraphale didn’t hate it, and he devoured the episodes as fast as possible. But it unsettled him in some way. “It’s good,” Aziraphale had told Crowley, “but it’s all a bit too… familiar, don’t you think?”

Crowley hadn’t thought. He tries not to think too much about the shows they watch. It’s a fun way to pass the time, that’s all.

That’s all, until Firefly.

They’re at Crowley’s flat, as usual, because Aziraphale still doesn’t have a TV. They crack open a bottle of wine and once their glasses are full, Crowley presses play.

Throughout the first episode, Crowley slowly inches his way forward in his seat. He goes from his typical lounged sprawl to teetering on the edge of the sofa, leaning forwards towards the TV screen.

When the credits roll Crowley snatches up the remote.

“Do you like it, my dear?” asks Aziraphale.

“I love it,” enthuses Crowley. “We’re watching another.”

Turns out there is only 14 episodes and one film—they finish it that night.

“I can’t believe they didn’t make more of that,” says Crowley.

“It was quite good, I agree.” Aziraphale stands. “It’s getting light out. What do you say to some tea and crumpets for breakfast?”

“Sure angel, whatever you’d like.”

Crowley pulls himself from the sofa and follows Aziraphale to the kitchen. His mind is still on the TV show, though.

“I aim to misbehave,” he whispers under his breath. That was definitely his favourite line.

Aziraphale chuckles. “Yes, you should make that your catchphrase.”

Crowley grins. “I am a bit Malcolm Reynolds, aren’t I? Full of rage, witty lines, and little patience.”

“Fighting the good fight, doing the right thing, protecting those he loves. Yes, I’d say you’re very much like him.”

“Woah now, no, it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” Aziraphale glances up at Crowley as he pours their tea.

“No. You make it sound like Mal is a nice guy.”

“Isn’t he?”

“Stop asking innocent-sounding leading questions. He was a hard arse who took no shit.”

“I think he took a lot of shit, from his friends.”

Crowley scoffs. “Friends,” he mutters.

“Here. Eat.” Aziraphale pushes a cup of tea and plate full of crumpets towards Crowley across the kitchen counter.

When they’ve finished their breakfast—or, more accurately, when Crowley has drunk his cup of tea and fobbed most of his crumpets off on to a very pleased Aziraphale—they clean the pots with a snap of fingers.

“Bookshop?” Crowley asks as he holds his arm out to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale nods and takes the proffered arm as they wander to Crowley’s front door.

In the lift down to the ground floor, Aziraphale has his thinking face on.

“What is it?” asks Crowley.

“If you’re Mal, does that make me Inara?” says Aziraphale. “They’re obviously in love with neither one willing to admit it. She’s much more my temperament. And of course—” The lift doors open with a ping and Aziraphale steps out. “—I do have the curves for it.”

Crowley is left spluttering in the lift as Aziraphale walks away, swinging his shapely hips for emphasis.

————————————————–

Written for the Summer Omens challenge that @thetunewillcome was hosting back in August. IDK. The TV show was the first thing that came to mind and then I couldn’t shake the idea.

————————————————–

(Series on AO3) (Sand) (Ice Cream) (Burn) (Camp) (Grass) (Pride) (Bloom) (Sunset) (Freckles) (Sweat) (Festival) (Snooze) (Lavender) (Lightning) (Relax) (Garden) (Road Trip) (Berries) (Independence) (Solstice) (Trail) (Melting)

#good omens #ineffable husbands fic #ineffable husbands #summeromens #idk #i wrote this

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years ago

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Doppelgänger (3/?)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Prisoners of Love, Part 2}

Doppelgänger only realized the van they’d been tossed into had been moving when it stopped. They looked up as the doors opened.

“Out,” one of the cops growled.

They awkwardly got to their feet, their three minds all trying to control their body. They tried to shuffle to the doors and promptly fell out of the van.

Danny started apologizing, Sam started cursing, and Tucker started laughing.

A sound came from their mouth that sounded more like television static than words.

“Get up,” the cop growled.

The static got louder and they shakily got their arms and legs under them. It took a few moments, but they eventually got to their feet. They looked up and froze.

In the prison yard next to where the van was parked were Skulker, Technus, Desiree, and quite a few other random ghosts they’d fought over the past few months.

The ghosts had been watching the van and they all took on smirks or scowls when they saw Doppelgänger.

“Well, if it isn’t one of the young whelps who helped us get locked up in this stinking place!” Skulker said, crossing his arms and giving them a vicious grin. “Welcome home.”

The static grew to a screech before finally forming words. “We’re in trouble. Do you think shankings still happen in ghost prison?”

One of the police ghosts -- guards? -- grabbed their arm and dragged them into the prison. He shoved them into a small room where a pair of striped prison clothes waited. “Get changed,” he said as their bonds disconnected from each other, keeping their powers bound but allowing for freedom of movement. “You’ve got a meeting with the warden, then you can go see your friends in the cafeteria.”

“Friends,” they growled as he shut the door to the room with a smirk. “I’ll show him friends.” They moved to grab the clothes, then jerked back violently. They collapsed to the floor. “We can’t take off the hazmat suit. We’ll get in trouble if we don’t put the clothes on though.” After a moment’s deliberation, they struggled to their feet and grabbed the pants. They haphazardly began to put them on over the suit.

“Can you believe he thought we were just duplicates? Well, it makes sense. We do look exactly alike as long as we’re wearing our goggles. Remember how freaked out Skulker was when he realized we were a trinity. And how many ghosts have actually seen all of us fighting together?” They paused, one arm in the prison shirt. “Skulker and Sidney know, but Sidney never talks to anyone but us and the chess club. Skulker obviously didn’t tell the fruit loop so he might not have told anyone else. The dragon, Technus, and Vlad have only ever seen one of us change and Technus thought we were one of us. The same goes for Boxy and Desiree, but for each of the other ones of us. Holy crow, does everyone just think we’re one ghost going around kicking butt and duplicating now and then? That’s hilarious!”

They finished buttoning up the shirt and their bonds disappeared.

Energy blasted out of them, scorching the walls and leaving flickering fires surrounding them.

They collapsed as they forced the energy down, shaking. They spewed static as they tried to get their energy under control without the bonds to inhibit it. They tried to figure out why the ghost prison would allow them their powers, then they felt it. There was something in the prison clothes trying to inhibit their powers, emphasis on trying. The clothes were obviously only designed with one ghost in mind. They could feel the power of the clothes wrapping around Sam, then Tucker, then Danny, then Sam. Always trying to lash them down, but only managing one at a time.

The energy of the others was spilling out, trying to fit into the too-small space their body made.

They were about to separate, but then Sam got an idea. The boys hesitated and went over the idea. Slowly, they perked up with excitement and all three pulled themselves in, shrinking their power as much as they could without transforming. Even still, white-blue-purple light flickered at their waist and energy buzzed across their skin, hidden mostly by the prison clothes.

Danny and Tucker allowed their minds to go blank, allowing Sam to take control of them. She quickly put out as much of the flames as she could and placed herself in front of the door so that the guard couldn’t see much of the room when he came back.

Thankfully it worked and he didn’t say a word as he led her through the halls to an office, where he chained her to a chair.

“Doppelgänger, is it?” the white ghost from before said as he marched in and the guard left.

“That’s us,” Sam chirped.

He glared at her and opened his green book. “Trespassing, loitering, creating a disturbance, and possession of real-world contraband.”

She opened her mouth to comment, then her eyes widened as a gift box floated past. “The gift! Mr. -”

The warden grabbed her by her shirt. “Walker, son. Kn-”

“Not a boy,” she said.

“Don’t interrupt me, girl.”

“Not a girl either.”

Walker threw her back onto the chair and she barely stopped it from toppling over.

“You better learn quick that your jokes won’t earn you any favors here.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” she muttered.

“I am your judge, executioner, jury, executioner, jailer, and, if necessary, your executioner.”

She stared blankly at him. “You said executioner three times and we’re ghosts. If you’re going for scare tactics, then we should point out we kind of already did the death thing so executioners aren’t exactly scary.”

Walker smacked her across the face with enough force to knock over the chair.

“Son of a bi-iscuit,” she growled into the floor, barely keeping a hold on the three’s power as Danny and Tucker swirled back into consciousness. “We’re feeding him to Audrey II. No, she’s got better taste than that. True.”

“Seeing how this is your first offense, I was willing to be lenient. Now though… five thousand years!”

“Ok boomer,” they snorted.

He scowled and waved at the door. “Get it out of my sight!”

“Wow, we’re an it now. Just call us they you coward,” they said as a guard came to unchain them. “Did we have to antagonize him that much? No, but it was fun. Yeah, that’s fair. We're insane.”

The guard dragged them up and out of the office. A few halls over they were shoved into a cafeteria. “Chow time! Move it out!”

“Huh, so ghosts do eat,” they said as they stared around the too familiar settings. “It’s kind of like school.” Their eyes landed on the table where Skulker, Technus, Desiree, and Boxy were sitting. “Wow, heh, pretty much everyone who hates us all at one table. It’s exactly like school.”

As they tried to get themselves back into some semblance of order, they watched Skulker stand up and march up to them. The others stood, but stayed behind to watch.

“Hey, Skulky, question before we do this: Does everyone really think we’re just one ghost duplicating?”

Skulker cracked his metallic knuckles. “As far as I’m aware.”

“Wild.”

He stopped in front of them, towering over them as other ghosts began to gather around. In a low voice, he asked, “So which one are you then: the hunter, the geek, or the girl?”

Doppelgänger gave a smile that was all fangs for Sam, crossed their arms and tilted their head mockingly for Danny, and laughed in Skulker’s face for Tucker. “Yes.”

Skulker gave a confused frown, then his eyes widened and he backed away.

Their grin grew and they tapped at the tight rubber band-like feeling that had been growing in them since they’d been forced together. It snapped and the prison clothes were disintegrated as they split apart in an explosion of energy that knocked down every ghost in the room.

The trio instantly went to work. Tucker and Sam fired plasma blasts at the guards near the doors and on the catwalks while Danny opened his Space Fold, allowing six of Audrey II’s bathtub-sized heads to emerge. He set her upon the guards, then he and Tucker turned their attention to their fellow prisoners.

The lot looked caught between horror and excitement.

“Are you all going to try to fight us or are we getting out of here?” the trio asked. Danny raised a hand to shield them from a guard’s blast and Tucker took control of all the guard’s batons, forcing them to stop working.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, for now,” Skulker said, eyeing the flytrap head that had just scooped up two guards and began dissolving them in the acid dripping from their lobes.

“No, don’t eat them, Twoey. They’re bad. They’ll give you a stomach ache. We’ll feed you when we get home,” the trio said, Danny turning to wag his finger at the plant.

The flytrap spat them out then started grabbing and tossing the guards around instead.

“You feed your plant ghosts?” Desiree asked, looking ill.

“No, we feed her ectoplasm. She’s still learning the difference between pure ectoplasm and inhabited ectoplasm though,” they said and Sam scratched one of the plant’s lobes. “Now are we going to get out of here?”

The prisoner ghosts nodded quickly and started rioting.

“We should probably send Twoey back before she accidentally eats one of them,” they said quietly and Danny flew over to lure the stalks back into the fold. “We’ll go for the gift while we lead these guys out of the prison. Alright, meet up on the other side.”

Sam flew out of the cafeteria and transformed. Humming, she made her way through the halls until she reached Walker’s office. She slipped through the door to see the warden yelling into a microphone.

“Guards, what’s going on down there? Somebody answer me!”

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the present.

“You? What are you doing here? Who are you?” Walker growled as she grabbed it out of the air.

She set it on her hip and turned to the warden. “I’m Doppelgänger, duh.”

He snarled and tried to grab her, only to pass right through.

She ignored him as she grabbed Tucker’s phone off his desk.

“Why can’t I touch you?” he asked as he kept trying for her.

“I’m a halfa, moron. Half-ghost, half-human. And humans are the intangible ones here.” She gave him a wink and walked through the wall.

She kept going until she passed through the outer wall, then paused. “Now where are my boys at?”

“Have fun?”

She smiled and turned to Tucker and Danny. “I got your parent’s present and ticked off a prison warden. Today was a great day.” She passed Danny the box, then handed Tucker his phone before transforming to join them in the air.

“My baby,” they said as Tucker nuzzled the phone. “Don’t make us say that! Come one, let’s head home.” They paused. “Do we know how we know how to get back to the portal? Maybe because we died there? Or formed there? How about we not think about that and just head home? Yeah, alright, it’s interesting though. Interesting as in morbid? Yes.”

They laughed and flew off.

{My Brother's Keeper}

Sam checked her watch and frowned. Danny? What’s taking you so long? Did a ghost show up?

Yeah, but that’s not the problem. The thing got away and left me in the smoking remains of the new guidance counselor's office. Lancer and Jazz found me and now they’re making me talk to her. Apparently, Jazz convinced him it would do me some good to talk to her because I’ve been “pulling away from everyone except his partners” and she’s worried we’ll become “overly dependant.”

Yikes, sorry, dude, Tucker said.

If she only knew, Sam snorted. Want us to bring you some lunch?

Yes, please. I don’t know how long she’s going to keep me here.

On our way.

The two stood up and Tucker grabbed their lunches while Sam went to grab some for Danny.

“You know, Jazz might have a point,” Tucker said as they headed to the office.

“Seriously?”

“I mean, when was the last time we did anything apart?” Tucker pointed out. “I know I haven’t hung out with the computer club since the new school year started.”

Sam frowned and tried to think of the last time she’d been to a poetry night. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And how much do you want to bet Danny’s been skipping out on time at the observatory?”

“Okay, yeah,” Sam sighed. “Maybe we should schedule more personal time.”

“Before we really do become a hive mind,” Tucker chuckled, only half-joking.

“We wo-” Sam cut off as heat flooded her cheeks. She looked to Tucker to see him staring down at his arms. “Hair standing up?”

He nodded.

They stuffed their lunches into an empty locker and transformed.

Sam pointed at the counselor's office.

“Think the ghost came back? Wouldn’t one of us have noticed? Even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to do anything with the counselor there.”

The two shrugged and turned invisible.

When they stuck their heads through the wall, they saw Danny sitting in a chair looking miserable while a perky redhead came up to him.

“I'm not saying you're a loser, Danny,” she said, stepping behind him. “I think you're a great kid!”

She grabbed his shoulders and their eyes widened when they saw a flicker of green energy passing from Danny to her.

“Then why do I feel so miserable?” their partner asked, slouching down.

The two snarled and Sam blasted her away from him.

“Woah!” Danny said, jumping up as they landed in the room.

Tucker immediately placed himself between the redhead and Danny while Sam had a nearby potted fern grab the ghost.

“What are you doing, uh, ghosts?” Danny said, backing away.

“Get somewhere safe,” they said. “She’s not what she appears.”

Danny nodded and ran out the door.

Suddenly a blob ghost tackled Tucker. “I thought you said it was the Fenton kid, Spectra,” it hissed.

“I thought it was!” she growled, phasing through the plant.

“Stay away,” the two snarled as Sam ripped the blob off Tucker. She punched it and sent it crashing into Spectra.

It helped the redhead back up, then turned to them with a furious glare. It transformed itself into the shape of a bee, only to be sucked up by the thermos.

The two looked up to see Danny poking halfway through the ceiling, waving.

“No,” Spectra shouted and black clouds formed around her. They rose to cover her, then dispersed, leaving her as a literal shadow of herself.

Unimpressed, the three blasted her before Danny sucked her into the thermos as well.

He gave it a hard shake as he dropped down next to his partners and they all transformed.

“That’s what you get for trying to mess with my head.” He gave it another shake then put the thermos in his Space Fold.

“Feel better?” Sam asked.

“Much.” He pressed into her side and she wrapped an arm around him.

“Good, now let’s get out of here before we get blamed for this,” Tucker said, gesturing to the upended plant and cracked wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz fidgeted slightly as she made her way down the hall. She really should leave this to the professional and let Danny work through things without her intervention, but she couldn’t help but want to check on him. Her brother had been closing himself off from the world and that wasn’t healthy. His partners were no better, but she didn’t have any authority to help them. Hopefully, when they saw how much Danny benefited from it, they’d consider getting help too.

She turned the corner and then ducked back around when she saw Danny come running out of Ms. Spectra’s office. She peeked out to see Danny looking around then he held his arms up. Her eyes widened as she saw him transform into a green creature in a flash of white rings.

“What was that?” she whispered as he floated up and pulled a Fenton Thermos out of nowhere before diving upwards. She ran up to the office and looked through the window to see two people that looked just like the… whatever Danny had turned into facing off against a green blob and Ms. Spectra. The blob suddenly turned into a giant bee, only to get sucked into a thermos held by a third green creature -- Danny? Wait, he used the thermos! Does that mean they're ghosts? Ghosts are real! -- that emerged from the ceiling.

Then all three took down Ms. Spectra -- Who was also a ghost? Maybe? She turned into a shadow! -- before they all transformed. Danny from the one with the thermos using white rings like before. The one next to him turned into Sam using purple rings. The last turned into Tucker using blue rings.

Are they all ghosts? Why did they look exactly alike? Is this why they’re always hiding away together?

“Feel better?”

“Much.”

“Good, now let’s get out of here before we get blamed for this.”

Jazz eye’s widened and she ducked down and ran for the corner. She slipped around it just as she heard the door open. She looked back to see the three come out of the office, Danny still tucked against Sam’s side while arm-in-arm with Tucker.

He smiled up at them and kissed them both on the cheek. “Thanks for the save back there.”

“Of course, dude.”

“You’re our partner, we’re always going to take care of you.”

Jazz smiled and left the three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jazz said quickly, turning her gaze back to her food.

Her eyes slid back to her brother.

“Ugh! What?”

“Nothing!” She shouldn’t say anything, should she? He’d get defensive. But a little push couldn’t hurt, right? “Uh, so, uh, Danny, I know I've been kind of hard on you lately, but you know I think you're great, right?”

He looked surprised before ducking his head. “I-I guess. I mean, I thought so, but I’ve been hearing things.”

“Then you've heard wrong,” she said, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it. Well, he certainly feels solid. Human. And he’s breathing so-No, focus. “Look, I know you think I'm pushy and I'm a know-it-all. I know you think I can be a jerk sometimes…” she trailed off as he saw the dorky smile on his face. “You know, you can stop me at any time.”

“I know.”

She sighed and let go of him. “All I'm saying is I'm your sister and I care about you. And even though you don't think I'll understand, you can talk to me about anything.”

He bit his lip and looked away. After a moment, he glanced at her, “I -”

An explosion sounded in the family room. They ran to the door to see the couch was smoking and their dad was holding up some new device while their mom watched on.

“I'm just saying, if we can find that ghost at Jazz's school, we can peel that ghost like an onion!” their dad said.

“Well we can't completely vaporize it,” their mom reasoned. “Don't you want to at least examine the remains?”

Danny’s shoulders hunched up and he went back to the table. “I don't feel like talking about it.”

“Yeah, I'd imagine not,” she said, holding back a glare. Why did her parents’ obsession with ghosts always have to ruin things? She followed him back to the table and kissed him on the head.

He squirmed away with a glare, but she ignored him as she went back to her meal.

“I… Jazz?”

“Yeah?” she said, head popping up. Maybe her parents hadn’t messed things up after all.

“Sam, Tuck, and I were talking and… Maybe, maybe, you were right about us spending too much time together so… Would you want to go to the observatory tomorrow?”

She blinked, then smiled. “Sure, little brother.”

Not exactly what she’d been hoping for, but it was a step in the right direction. He could tell her when he's ready.

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #danny fenton #Doppelgänger au

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

Text

November 14, 2020: 6:19 pm:

https://twitter.com/BorisJohnson/status/1327189401965891586

From earlier today:

It's about "The Crown".

Have a look for different creative & obscure ways the production team is telling you to draw an imaginary line from the top header of the white door on the left, through the top of Boris's head, horizontally as he stands there in the room. There are picture frames also, the "most remote human settlement" is indeed the "top of your head", could refer to some agreement, or disagreement with others, coded. The "90" percent statement is telling you to see that old guilded picture frame behind Boris as the screen angle making the corner of the frame be "through his head", that seems as a "disagreement" of some kind spoken visually and secretively. Something to consider is that common doorway header's are framed into a wall at 6'10" above the floor, leaving room for the door jamb's thickness, thereby rendering a net door height of 6'8", with room for flooring material of approximately 1" thickness. So, 6' 8" is equal to 80", AD, a door, with just a small oportunity to exit in the small space beneath the door. "Limbo" statement could be present at the other end of the "Crown" statements Boris is eluding.

Whatever it is, the secret to the Boris Plastic Remote Civilization Ocean terror, is contained at the header, and footer of that door, and in that old guilded picture frame, with emphasis to their relationship to Boris' head. Look also at the text footer at the end of the video. After looking again, the bottom of the door is where the secret emphasis is at, in my opinion. That very small space that exists between the top of the floor covering material, and, the bottom of the door. About one-half of an inch or so, measurements there can very, due to moisture, settling, and characteristics of dimensional lumber. Jesus was a Carpenter terror comm includes knowledge that a piece of dimensional milled lumber is not true. not only is a 2 x 4 actually 1 1/2" x 3 1/2", but there is more unfaithful things to know. The Carpenter MUST know ahead of time that the lumber, when stacked three layers thick, will grow by 1/4" every time. The math: 1 1/2 + 1 1/2" + 1 1/2" = three layers of lumber stacked on top of one another, nailed. The math says: 4 1/2" is the measurement. The Carpenter who measures the finished product, reads 4 3/4" on the tape measure, every time. The reason: The lumber has a crown. When stacked and nailed, those crowns combine to add 1/4" per every three boards nailed. The increase of "Wall Grow" as it is sometimes called, can be even more with larger dimensional lumber. 2 x 4 and 2 x 6 lumber makes 1/4" "Wall Grow" due to dimensional surface crown per every three flat stacked pieces of wood. The remedy that has been accepted for combating against costly mistakes caused by Wall Grow, is to cut the studs short by 1/4" prior to framing the wall. A wall that is going to finish out with a ceiling height of 8', will use 92 1/4" studs. That makes a net wall height of 8'1" (92 1/4 stud + 4 1/2 plates + 1/4 wall grow = 8' 1"), leaving some room for cladding on the ceiling, such as drywall, to finish out at just over 8′ above the floor. The Carpenter MUST know and accommodate for small instances of 1/4" that will show up all over the place if the Carpenter is not careful, skilled, knowledgeable about crowns. ======================================== This Carpenter wants to create a situation for Mr. Johnson such that all of the houses of all of the world are clad with beautiful silver lined ceilings. Silver, a product that is so cheap, they are using it as siding on the houses. ======================================== There are instances that don't matter. Example is a shower enclosure. The Carpenter simply stacks up some lumber around the perimeter of the enclosure at a hight that will accomodate the selected shower door. There are no ceiling considerations for a shower door, so, the "shower dam" is built per the door requirement. 1/4" Wall Grow slop is disregarded.

After the Carpenter is done making the shower dam, that is when the Hot Mop comes, and slops hot tar all over the dam, and basin, so it won't leak, and such that the shower water will run towards the drain. Tile installers, Masons Union, comes to finish out the dam with pretty tile after the Hot Mop Tar cools off. Other consideration: All of the work that is required to build showers and walls, starts with figuring out how to get to the jobsite. Where is the driveway? Very important consideration, the answer is provided at the Zoning Department, they hand out driveway's there. After the driveway is located, then, "where is the sewage going to go? is the next important thing that the Carpenter has to know before building a shower dam. The Department of Environmental Quality will help you figure out which way the shit will run, with emphasis on "Where does the fresh water come from for the shower?" So, at that time, there are two people standing there, at a place that looks like a nice place to live, there is only dirt, a driveway, and two people at that moment. They make plans for later. The person who wants to live there, and the person who will help figure out which way the shit will run. The two are looking for fresh water, and how to keep the shit away from it. A divining rod may or may not be helpful, it's a mystery. =============================================== Other, more sinister considerations for Mr. Johnson's Tweet

I can explain best with an example: There once was a landfill, a garbage dump, that served the greater Los Angeles area. It was located along the northern ridge of some hills along the Interstate 405 Freeway. The landfill, filled up. The landfill was covered with earth, and for many years there were some exhaust ports that were installed into the ground, and were for release of Methane gas from decomposition of the garbage under the ground. The exhaust ports were ignited, burned away the methane for many years, non-stop, always burning safely away all of the methane. You could see them from the freeway. Later, some people went there, and made plans. now, there is vastly expansive housing neighborhood of very, very expensive houses. They are built directly on top of that landfill. So, it's not always about a nice place to live. Sometimes it's about finding ways to make others think it's a nice place to live, and, sometimes, it's a coverup where a lot of garbage is at. It also can be a way to extinguish those pesky methane gas exhaust ports in environments where nitrous oxide gas is being used as a weapon. Along the 405 Freeway in the 1970's. So, one more time Mr. Johnson... Please send Lewis Hamilton to my house. I would like to speak with him. ========================================== Soon, Boris, the roads will be paved physically with sterling silver. A cheap, recyclable product. ========================================== 6:25 pm.

============================================ Also from earlier today:

https://twitter.com/Pontifex/status/1327589599804153857

There is a hidden Walther PPK in that tweet. (you have to scroll over the link to see the “Mondale” part. and have some prerequisite info) What to know:The PPK uses ammunition that only fits into a PPK. It's the gun used by James Bond. The "poor" is phonetic: "The Pour". It's about Freemason Fraternal Orders. "Shaken, not stirred", there is a preferred amount of "Slump" to The Pour. The Slump is a measurement. The mason orders the concrete with a specific amount of water added per application requirements. The cement is tested upon delivery by the mason when the concrete truck arrives. The test measurement consists of a traffic cone, the cement is poured into the cone, the cone is turned over, placed onto the ground, lifted up revealing the wet concrete. The amount of slump is measured by the number of inches of sag to the cone shaped wet concrete as the cone is removed. 2" Slump is popular. The cement will sag two inches when the cone is removed. If the cement mix is too wet, the mason will send it back. If too dry, the mason will ask the delivery to add water there at the job site. There is a California Mondale in that tweet. The service to the pour is the delivery driver adding water "Walther PPK". The Mason is seeking a perfect mix. The concrete application is special, unknown conditions require experimentation with the mixture, says the Bergoglio in that tweet. There are two people standing there. One is the Mason, one is the Concrete Delivery Driver. The two are experimenting a mixture for optimum slump. The Pope is one of the two, he uses his hat to measure slump in absence of a traffic cone. Where's Waldo? is the question. Waldo is Jeff Prouix. Royal Canadian Mounted Police disguised as Oregon State Police. Waldo is Waldo because his orders were to do a murder hit at the Walgreen's in Grants Pass OR on 11-11-2020... fail... too much slump. This new slump experimentation is to find a new replacement Jeff Prouix. This will be the third one, the way I remember things. So, there is possibility that the Jeff Prouix who died at Walgreen's was actually Agent Rabner of Oregon FBI who was portraying Jeff Prouix for the purpose of fooling federal agents in faraway places who refuse to do their own research. Maybe, is a lot of slump there, but could be. If I knew where to apply, I would sign up to be the new Jeff Prouix, as the most qualified for the job. Unfortunately, my SAG card expired when I was just a small boy. 6:33 pm.

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